"
"Oh, for my Company!" cried Sir Nigel. "But where is Ford,
Alleyne?"
"He is foully murdered, my fair lord."
"The saints receive him! May he rest in peace! But here come
some at last who may give us counsel, for amid these passages it
is ill to stir without a guide."
As he spoke, a French squire and the Bohemian knight came rushing
down the steps, the latter bleeding from a slash across his
forehead.
"All is lost!" he cried. "The castle is taken and on fire, the
seneschal is slain, and there is nought left for us."
"On the contrary," quoth Sir Nigel, "there is much left to us,
for there is a very honorable contention before us, and a fair
lady for whom to give our lives. There are many ways in which a
man might die, but none better than this."
"You can tell us, Godfrey," said Du Guesclin to the French
squire: "how came these men into the castle, and what succors can
we count upon? By St. Ives! if we come not quickly to some
counsel we shall be burned like young rooks in a nest."
The squire, a dark, slender stripling, spoke firmly and quickly,
as one who was trained to swift action.
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