Here before you stands Sir Gaston de Brocas, offering you place in his
service if ye will but swear to him that allegiance he has the right to
claim. The offer is made in clemency and mercy, because he would not
that any should perish in futile resistance. Men, ye know that he comes
to this place with the King's mandate that Saut be given up to him. If
it be not peaceably surrendered, what think ye will happen next?

"I will tell you. Ye have heard of the Prince of Wales, son of the Roy
Outremer; doubtless even to these walls has come the news of that
triumphal march of his, where cities have surrendered or ransomed
themselves to him, and nothing has been able to stay the might of his
conquering arm. That noble Prince and valiant soldier is now not far
away. We have come from his presence, and are here with his knowledge
and sanction. If we win you over, and gain peaceable possession of these
walls, good; no harm will befall any living creature within them. But if
ye prove obdurate; if ye will not listen to the voice of reason; if ye
still hold with rebellious defiance to the lord ye have served, and who
has shown himself so little worthy of your service, then will the Prince
and his warriors come with all their wrath and might to inflict
chastisement upon you, and take vengeance upon you, as enemies of the King.

"Say, men, how can ye hope to resist the might of the Prince's arm? Say,
which will ye do -- be the free servants of Gaston de Brocas, or die
like rats in a hole for the sake of yon wicked madman, whose slaves ye
have long been? Which shall it be -- a De Brocas or a Navailles?"

Something in this last appeal stirred the hearts of the men. It seemed
as though a veil were torn from their eyes. They seemed to see all in a
moment the hopelessness of their position as vassals of Navailles, and
the folly of attempting resistance to one so infinitely more worthy to
be called their lord. It was no stranger coming amongst them -- it was
one of the ancient lords of the soil; and the sight of the youthful
knight, sitting there on his fine horse, with his fair lady beside him,
was enough to stir the pulses and awaken the enthusiasm of an ardent
race, even though the nobler instincts had been long sleeping in the
breasts of these men. They hated and distrusted their old lord with a
hatred he had well merited; and degraded as they had become in his
service, they had not yet sunk so low but that they could feel with the
ke