nd barelegged, clad only in their shirts, and with halters
around their necks, with the keys of the tower and castle in their
hands. These must yield themselves fully to my will. The others I will
take to mercy."

Sir Walter returned with this message, saying that no hope of better
terms could be had of the king.

"Then I beg you to wait here," said Sir John, "till I can take your
message to the townsmen, who sent me here, and bring you their reply."

Into the town went the governor, where he sought the market-place, and
soon the town-bell was ringing its mustering peal. Quickly the people
gathered, eager, says Jehan le Bel, "to hear their good news, for they
were all mad with hunger." Sir John told them his message, saying,--

"No other terms are to be had, and you must decide quickly, for our foes
ask a speedy answer."

His words were followed by weeping and much lamentation among the
people. Some of them must die. Who should it be? Sir John himself shed
tears for their extremity. It was not in his heart to name the victims
to the wrath of the English king.

At length the richest burgess of the town, Eustace de St. Pierre,
stepped forward and said, in tones of devoted resolution,--

"My friends and fellows, it would be great grief to let you all die by
famine or otherwise, when there is a means given to save you. Great
grace would he win from our Lord who could keep this people from dying.
For myself, I have trust in God that if I save this people by my death I
shall have pardon for my faults. Therefore, I offer myself as the first
of the six, and am willing to put myself at the mercy of King Edward."

He was followed by another rich burgess, Jehan D'Aire by name, who said,
"I will keep company with my gossip Eustace."

Jacques de Wisant and his brother, Peter de Wisant, both rich citizens,
next offered themselves, and two others quickly made up the tale. Word
was taken to Sir Walter of what had been done, and the victims
apparelled themselves as the king had commanded.

It was a sad procession that made its way to the gate of the town. Sir
John led the way, the devoted six followed, while the remainder of the
towns-people made their progress woful with tears and cries of grief.
Months of suffering had not caused them deeper sorrow than to see these
their brave hostages marching to death.

The gate opened. Sir John and the six burgesses passed through. It
closed behind them. Sir Walter stood waiting.

"I