"'Dex Aie?'" quoth William, with a sneer. "'Debbles Aie!' would fit
better."
"If, Sire, the powers above would have helped us, we should have been
happy enough to----But if they would not, it is not our fault if we try
below," said Ivo Taillebois.
William laughed. "It is well to have two strings to one's bow, sir.
Forward, men! forward!" shouted he, riding out to the bridge-end, under
the tower.
"Forward!" shouted Ivo Taillebois.
"Forward!" shouted the hideous hag overhead. "The spirit of the well
fights for you."
"Fight for yourselves," said William.
There was twenty yards of deep clear water between Frenchman and
Englishman. Only twenty yards. Not only the arrows and arblast quarrels,
but heavy hand-javelins, flew across every moment; every now and then a
man toppled forward, and plunged into the blue depth among the eels and
pike, to find his comrades of the summer before; then the stream was still
once more. The coots and water-hens swam in and out of the reeds, and
wondered what it was all about. The water-lilies flapped upon the ripple,
as lonely as in the loneliest mere. But their floats were soon broken,
their white cups stained with human gore. Twenty yards of deep clear
water. And treasure inestimable to win by crossing it.
They thrust out baulks, canoes, pontoons; they crawled upon them like
ants, and thrust out more yet beyond, heedless of their comrades, who
slipped, and splashed, and sank, holding out vain hands to hands too busy
to seize them.
Pages:
467
468
469
470
471
472
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491