Also tumult broke out
among the hundreds who watched, some of them taking one side and some
the other, so that they fell upon each other with sticks and stones
and fists, even the women joining in the fray, biting and tearing like
bagged cats. The scene was hideous and the sounds those of a sacked
city, for many were hurt and all gave tongue, while shrill and clear
above this hateful music rose the yells of Bridget, who had awakened
from her faint and imagined all was over and that she fathomed hell.

Thrice the attackers were rolled back, but of those who defended a third
were down, and now the Abbot took another counsel.

"Bring bows," he cried, "and shoot them, for they have none!" and men
ran off to do his bidding.

Then it was that Emlyn's wit came to their aid, for when Bolle shook his
red head and gasped out that he feared they were lost, since how could
they fight against arrows, she answered--

"If so, why stand here to be spitted, fool? Come, let us cut our way
through ere the shafts begin to fly, and take refuge among the trees or
in the Nunnery."

"Women's counsel is good sometimes," said Bolle. "Form up, Foterells,
and march."

"Nay," broke in Cicely, "loose Bridget first, lest they should burn her
after all; I'll not stir else."

So Bridget was hacked free, and together with the wounded men, of whom
there were several, dragged and supported thence. Then began a running
fight, but one in which they still held their own. Yet they would have
been overwhelmed at last, for the women and the wounded hampered them,
had not help come. For as they hewed their path towards the belt of
trees with the Abbot's fierce fellows, some of whom were French or
Spanish, hanging on their flanks, suddenly, in the gap where the roadway
ran, appeared a horse galloping and on it a woman, who clung to its mane
with both hands, and after her many armed men.

"Look, Emlyn, look!" exclaimed Cicely. "Who is that?" for she could not
believe her eyes.

"Who but Mother Matilda," answered Emlyn; "and by the saints, she is a
strange sight!"

A strange sight she was indeed, for her hood was gone, her hair, that
was ever so neat, flew loose, her robe was ruckled up about her knees,
the rosary and crucifix she wore streamed on the air behind her and beat
against her back, and her garb had burst open at the front; in short,
never was holy, aged Prioress seen in such a state before. Down she
came on them like a whirlwind, for her fr