VIII

The Friar's Report of His Observations—The Mine Discovered—Edgar Suggests a Plan—The Miners Driven Out—Meeting the Siege-Tower—An Error of Judgment—A Triple Attack against the Castle—A General Advance—David against Goliath—A Secret Attack—The Careless Sentinel—The Lady Amabel on the Alert—Flight of the Daring Climbers.

CHAPTER VIII

After the Friar had finished the story of his sojourn in the enemies' camp, he proceeded to prove that he had not thought only of the rabbit-stew and of his own misfortunes while absent. He spread out upon the table Hugh's map, and taking a pen, jotted down the positions of the besiegers' forces, placing here and there figures to show the number of men, and also noting other points of interest, such as the Count's headquarters, the place and direction of the covered trench leading toward the front of the castle, the station of each military machine, and the barracks and stables. Hugh's eyes sparkled with pleasure as he saw how complete a map he had of the Count's campaign, and Edgar and the two ladies began to appreciate fully the cleverness of the Franciscan, who had been cool enough, even when his life was in danger, to observe everything that could be of use in the defense of the castle. When the map was completed to his satisfaction, the Friar flung down his pen, and said with some pride: "There—if I was captured, I nevertheless made good use of my eyes. Yet, Master Hugh, confess that I have told you nothing which you had not well-nigh guessed already. Is it not so?"

Hugh hesitated, and the Friar laughed. "Do not fear to hurt my pride, man! After what I have been through to-day, I have little enough of pride left. I know well there is nothing new to you in what I have noted upon your chart. But there is something more I have learned—something that cannot well be put upon your chart, since that pictures only the surface of the ground."

"A mine?" Edgar asked.

"A mine!" said the Friar. "And that is more than Luke bargained for. You may be sure he never meant me to know that his sappers were at work beneath the walls. I should not have known it except that as we passed the front of that ugly shed of theirs, I heard the stroke of picks far below. The shed collected the sound as a sea-shell gives back the sound of the sea, and I am sure that sappers are at work not far from the great gate of the castle. They have not gone deep enough to have passed under the moat itself, and so they must have tunneled the mound beneath the cat, and thus have gained entrance to the foundations. But which way they have turned, and where they will make their chief excavation—that is more than I can tell."

"I can answer there," Edgar said, "for I know that under the eastern side of the castle is only solid rock. They would, therefore, be compelled to work toward the west tower."

"There, then," Hugh exclaimed "we must countermine and drive them back. I will set men to work at once."

"And why so?" the Friar inquired. "It seems to me that the fools will be doing our work for us, if they undermine the southwest tower. That is the tower we shall be forced to abandon if the siege continues long. Is it not so, Captain Hugh?"

"Yes," the old campaigner replied, "unless relief comes, they cannot fail to gain possession of the outer court, and probably the whole southwest corner of the castle. But that is only if worse comes to worst. I believe in fighting every advance, if only to gain time; but I do not believe in sacrificing the lives of defenders where no object demands it. What do you say. Lord Edgar,—shall we not contest every foot?"

"Every inch, I would say," the younger man answered; "but I yield to the wisdom and experience of you older men. Until we shall come to hand-to-hand fighting, I shall follow you; when the clash of steel begins, the van belongs of right to me. Is there no way, Friar Bacon, whereby we can drive the men from the Count's mine? Do you not know of some noisome drugs or stifling fumes we could send through tubes to their mine?"

"An excellent notion," said the Friar admiringly. "If we knew just where their tunnel ran, we might thrust a tube of wood or metal downward into their burrow, and smoke them out as if they were rats! We have, so Hugh tells me, a good store of sulphur in the castle stores; and no living thing can breathe its fumes. Come, let us try. They will be at work to-night. Rouse up the cooper or the smiths, and let them make us a tube, and then by means of the bellows from the forge we will pump their mines full of a smoke that will send them scampering!"

The workmen were aroused, and soon knocked together a long wooden tube, strongly bound with iron and furnished with an iron point. This was constructed in the inner court, and then carried into the outer court, just behind the front wall. The party used no torches, and walked silently. Every now and then one of the party would put his ear against the earth to listen for sounds below. At last, about half a hundred feet westward of the gate-towers, the sounds of pick and shovel could be heard faintly whenever one of the steel tools struck a stone. To make sure that they would not bore too far ahead, the party then walked back a few paces, and began to dig down toward where the tunnel ran, as near as they could judge from the sounds. Using a long-handled shovel, a hole or trench was made slanting outward, and sunk about twenty feet. Then the wooden tube was inserted and worked down into the earth. They were lucky enough to strike the tunnel, or mine, at their first attempt, and they felt the tube slide forward into the opening.

They listened intently, but could not hear anything from the miners, who had probably stopped their work because of the noise that had been made in digging the trench, and were waiting to learn its cause. The Friar and Hugh now set fire to a large pot of pitch and sulphur they had brought with them, and placing this near the mouth of the tube, covered both with a barrel which had been cut to fit over the end of the tube. At the other end of the barrel a hole had been cut for the nozzle of the great bellows, and three or four of the party now pumped air into the barrel as fast as they could work the handles.

After a few minutes they could hear muffled cries from below, and then came the sound of running feet, softened, but still audible. Thereupon they redoubled their work at the bellows, and kept at it so long as they could see that the sulphur was burning.

Satisfied at last that the miners were driven from their work, they withdrew the tube, and filled up the trench again, knowing that it would be some time before the tunnel would clear itself of the sulphurous smoke. Then the whole party retired into the castle, after Edgar and Hugh had seen that the guards were alert and ready to give the alarm if the attempt to breach the wall were resumed. A strong body of men slept that night upon the battlements just opposite the weakened point, ready to defend it if it were opened. But the night passed away without an alarm, probably because the Count preferred to make his attack upon several points at the same time, and thus compel the garrison to divide its forces. Besides, the Count's dismissal of the Friar showed that he had no fear of interference from without, and was confident of his ability to capture the castle whenever all was ready to make a vigorous attack upon it; but he felt it a waste of force to press upon a single point at a time.

That night the Friar slept soundly enough, being wearied by all his exertions from early morning until after midnight; but Hugh, expecting a renewal of the tower's advance, and of the blows from the battering-ram, was racking his brains for the best way of replying to the besiegers. The tower was his chief anxiety, for he feared lest it would enable the Count to bring his large force of trained soldiers against the garrison in a hand-to-hand fight, that would be sure to result in a defeat for the side weaker in numbers. He felt sure that the drawbridge would be in working order again by the next day, and he could hardly hope for a second shot that would again disable the tower. He wondered whether there was no means of burning the great structure. There was a chance that this might be done by a sortie from the castle, but it would be certain to cost the lives of some of his bravest men, and would be a doubtful enterprise at the best. He was sure from the ability Luke the Lurdane had displayed already, that the tower would be watchfully guarded all night by a stronger force than could be brought against it.

Regretfully, Hugh decided that a sortie was out of the question, and again began to consider other plans. He recalled the appearance of the great tower, and remembering that it had a flat top, concluded that the best method of attack would be to train his mangonels upon it, and fling barrels of flaming pitch so that they would fall on its roof. No doubt the besiegers would be ready to extinguish the flames, but Hugh could think of no better plan, and toward morning fell asleep, with the resolve to consult the ingenious Franciscan upon waking; and this resolve he carried out.

The first gleams of daylight found him at the Friar's door. He had to pound vigorously before he could arouse that tired man, and even after he was admitted, it took a long time before the Friar could collect his senses enough to clearly understand what was required of him. But, once awake, the Friar entered heartily into his plans, and discussed them with all the zeal of an inventive spirit. The arguments Hugh had prepared overnight were admitted to be sound, and the importance of destroying the tower needed no discussion. The Friar's objections were made to the plan of attacking the tower at a distance. He urged that it was likely most of the burning missiles would go wide, and the few that struck would be quickly extinguished. But by waiting until the tower had approached within thirty or forty feet of the walls, they would be able to make every shot tell, provided they wasted no shots upon the side of the structure, which was sure to be guarded by fresh hides.

Hugh did not like the idea of letting the tower come so near, for fear they might fail at the last minute, when the Count's men would have lowered their drawbridge, and could then march out upon the ramparts and sweep them clear of the defenders. This danger the Friar admitted, but did not believe it could be avoided. Hugh was compelled to admit, in his turn, that he saw no way of keeping the tower at a distance, and that the close attack offered the best chance of destroying it.

"The tower," said the Friar, "will be put in motion early in the day. At the same time, the battering-ram will finish the front wall; the mangonels will be all trained upon us; and it may be that a storming party with ladders will come against some new portion of the wall. So be it. We must take our chances with the other attacks, and give every effort to repelling the tower. A few crossbowmen wall be enough to defend the breach, since that is only a feigned attack, and will not be closely followed up. Lord Edgar, with a chosen body of men, must be ready to repulse any storming-party wherever they may present themselves. And our main force must be gathered to repulse the tower. We will place the mangonels where they will best command it, and hurl barrels of flaming pitch upon its roof. Then, too, if they succeed in lowering the drawbridge, the catapults must be ready to sweep the besiegers from the bridge, while we do our best to prevent them from reaching the ramparts. We can do no more."

After their midnight expedition against the miners who were burrowing through the earth like moles, Edgar and his two allies slept so soundly that, be fort they had risen, they were wakened and summoned to the ramparts, being assured that the besiegers were evidently preparing for a more serious assault than any they had yet delivered. All three dressed hastily, and ascended to the top of the keep, whence there was a broad view. Then it could be seen that the reports of their enemies' activity were not exaggerated. From the eastward could be seen the high siege-tower, once more advancing toward them, so slowly that one had to look most closely in order to be sure that it made progress; and yet so steadily that if the attention of an observer was for a moment diverted, it could be seen, when the tower was again noticed, that several yards had been gained.

On the south the Count's men were seen to be clustering about their three mangonels, preparing them for action, as soon as the signal should be given; while nearer the castle, there were signs of activity also about the intrenchment and the great cat that hid the battering-ram. Now and then one of the soldiers or workmen would show him- self outside the defenses, but would instantly dive back again, for fear of an arrow from a loophole or embrasure of the castle. And this fear was well founded, for Hugh had insisted that his marksmen should be constantly on the alert, and ever ready to discharge their weapons at anyone of the besiegers who' exposed himself. In consequence, whenever one of the Count's soldiers let an arm or a leg protrude, a bowstring would twang, and a bolt would fall—seldom hitting its mark, it is true, but still serving the purpose of making the besiegers cautious and prudent about their work, and hence making their work slower. This was in accordance with Hugh's principle throughout the siege—he thought everything worth while that made the siege longer or more difficult, believing a day lost or a day gained might make all the difference between victory and defeat.

Behind the besiegers' mangonels, and just at the edge of the wood, could be seen a number of the Count's men drawn up in regular formation, and Hugh, pointing these out to Edgar, remarked:

"To-day we shall have not a man too much. Besides the tower and the ram, the Count means to send a force against the walls to see if he cannot storm them. I wish I could tell the strength of that body of men; but my eyes are not what they were, and the soldiers move in and out of the shade of the woods so that they are confused, and I cannot make out their number. What do you make of them—are they many or few?"

Edgar shaded his eyes with both hands, gazing long and earnestly, and trying to arrive at some certainty. But the men were in motion, and passed in and out among the trees in so confusing a manner that he was compelled to give up the attempt.

"I cannot tell," said he. "There are more than a few companies; but there is nothing by which to determine their exact strength. We must take our chances."

"No matter," Hugh declared; "we have the walls against them, at least, but if the tower be not opposed we shall have a hand-to-hand battle on the very ramparts. In a few minutes more the tower will be once more within range, and then we will send them a few reminders that we are not asleep. Load up the mangonels, my men, and put in the heaviest stones you have. Let us see if there be another man who can earn a handful of shining bezants. My lord will not grudge them for as good a shot as the one which last sent that Goliath of wood back to the Count for repairs! Come—who will be our David, to slay this Philistine with a sling?"

The men sprang to their work gayly, and wound up the strong tackles that drew the levers downward. Then dropping the jagged rocks into the slings, they released the triggers, and the mangonels sent their loads through the air toward the enemy—the swaying, threatening tower which seemed to be walking toward them.

The shots directed upon the siege-tower, were the first sign of life from the garrison, and it seemed as if their discharge was taken as a signal for a general advance. The troops at the edge of the wood came at a rapid rate across the level ground and then up the plateau toward the front of the castle. The great ram, which was unseen, made known its presence by beginning to beat loudly for admittance through the cracking wall, and the three mangonels the besiegers had set up now hurled their great missiles against the front of the castle as fast as they could be loaded and discharged. Thus there were three attacks to be met at the same time, and it was necessary to divide the garrison of about one hundred men in the most effective manner to repel the three advances.

As had been previously agreed, Hugh took command of those who hoped to defeat the enemies in the tower. Edgar was in charge of the men drawn up opposite the breaking wall, and the Friar, upon the higher battlement gave his attention to answering the fire of the mangonels by making a vigorous attack of the same kind in return.

There was also a fourth attempt made against the castle, but of this its commanders did not learn until the great part—nearly the whole—of their men had been assigned to their stations. Luke the Lurdane had spent some of his spare hours, during the lull in the siege, upon the ground westward of the castle, reconnoitering. He had even, early one morning, swum out into the river, thinking he would thus attract less attention than if he took a boat or raft, and had carefully noted the ground upon which the castle stood. He had not failed to see the steep path down which the Friar had come upon his unlucky expedition, and Luke wondered whether it might not be possible for a few resolute men, aided by their poleaxes or pikes, to climb this path and thus gain an entrance to the castle from the rear. Luke believed that when the general attack was made it would be worth while to try this surprise; and so he had selected some of his most agile men to make the attempt.

Therefore, during the delivery of the three more evident attacks, a half-dozen men who had been hidden the night before in the underbrush near the bank of the river, pushed a light raft out into the river and poled it along as noiselessly as they could until they had come to the foot of the steep path Luke had described to them.

It was true that a guard had been always kept on the wall above this precipitous wall of rock, but since no attempt had been made to climb up its face, the sentinel had become careless. When all the force of the castle was summoned, this sentinel believed that he might go as far as the top of the keep, reasoning that he could watch the rear wall from there, while at the same time he would be within view of the battle with the tower.

His reasoning was sound enough. He could have watched both. But unfortunately, he became so absorbed in the threatening aspect of the lofty siege-tower that he quite forgot to turn his head, to say nothing of remaining on the west of the keep, whence alone he could properly guard the rear wall. But Amabel Manners also was upon the keep, and seeing the sentinel, was aware that the man was not at his post of duty. Not knowing whether he had permission to leave his station, she did not speak to the soldier, but went herself to the northwest corner of the great keep, and leaning over the battlements looked along the cliff, to see whether there was anything stirring below. She had hardly begun her examination when she saw something moving far down in the pathway. She was not certain what it was, but concluded she would take no risks. So she ran as fast as she could go along the ramparts until she came to where the Friar was in command of his battery.

"Friar Bacon," she cried, "there is something moving on the pathway at the back of the castle—the path that leads up from the river. Can you come, or send some of your men there? I'm afraid——"

The Friar at once dropped the great iron-tipped lever with which he had been moving the frame of the mangonel to adjust his aim, and in spite of his age went so rapidly along the ramparts that the young girl had much difficulty in keeping by his side. They passed through the tower, then along the eastward wall, through the keep, and thus reached the rear of the castle directly above the path.

One glance was enough for the keen eyes of the old Franciscan, since the men had climbed higher during Amabel's absence. The Friar turned to her saying, "My girl, your bright wits and sharp eyes have saved us all," and then stooping he picked up an enormous rock, as heavy as he could lift, from a pile that was just behind the ramparts.

"Oh, don't kill them!" cried Amabel.

"There will be no need," answered the Friar, and he tumbled the rock over the battlements. It went crashing through the bushes, bounded against a point of rock, dislodging a shower of earth and smaller stones, then shot downward, cutting its way through everything that opposed it until it fell with a great splash into the water, sending up a fountain of spray from the river.

"That will be enough, I think," the Friar remarked coolly, as he leaned to watch the result of his work. "If they come on in spite of that, I shall have no mercy. But they will not dare. It would be senseless folly. You alone could defend this path against an army, so long as there were stones here to roll down upon their heads."

Amabel, looking over, could see that the Friar was right, for the men were so eager to escape from their perilous position that they hardly were able to get out of one another's way. Indeed, just as they had succeeded in descending to within a few feet of the water, one of them lost his footing and tumbled on top of the man below him, so that both went rolling down the hill, and went souse! into the river below. There was no fear of that attack being followed up at once, and the Friar, bidding Amabel to kept on the watch against a surprise, went running back to his mangonel, where the loss of his marksmanship was seriously felt.

It had occupied only a few minutes to repel this attempt to scale the precipice, but when the Friar was once again upon the front wall he found he had arrived in the very nick of time, for the Count's forces were coming up the plateau in battle array, and in an instant more would be within range. The Friar ordered that the mangonels should be loaded with light baskets filled with small stones, so that they would do more execution upon the infantry, and then he waited.