trings to your ears and
quell with your shot whoever shall appear upon the rampant. Noble
Cedric, wilt thou take the direction of those that remain?"

"Not so," answered the Saxon. "Lead I cannot, but my posterity curse me
in my grave if I follow not with the foremost wherever thou shalt point
the way!"

"Yet, bethink thee, noble Saxon," said the knight, "thou hast neither
hauberk nor corslet, nor aught but that light helmet, [v]target, and
sword."

"The better," replied Cedric; "I shall be the lighter to climb these
walls. And--forgive the boast, sir knight--thou shalt this day see the
naked breast of a Saxon as boldly presented to the battle as ever you
beheld the steel corslet of a Norman warrior."

"In the name of God, then," said the knight, "fling open the door and
launch the floating bridge!"

The portal which led from the inner wall of the barbican, now held by
the besiegers, to the moat and corresponded with a sally-port in the
main wall of the castle was suddenly opened. The temporary bridge was
immediately thrust forward and extended its length between the castle
and outwork, forming a slippery and precarious passage for two men
abreast to cross the moat. Well aware of the importance of taking the
foe by surprise, the Black Knight, closely followed by Cedric, threw
himself upon the bridge and reached the opposite shore. Here he began to
thunder with his ax on the gate of the castle, protected in part from
the shot and stones cast by the defenders by the ruins of the former
drawbridge, which the Templar had demolished in his retreat from the
barbican, leaving the [v]counterpoise still attached to the upper part
of the portal. The followers of the knight had no such shelter; two were
instantly shot with cross-bow bolts, and two more fell into the moat.
The others retreated back into the barbican.

[Illustration: [See page 323]

He Began to Thunder on the Gate]

The situation of Cedric and the Black Knight was now truly dangerous and
would have been still more so but for the constancy of the archers in
the barbican, who ceased not to shower their arrows on the battlements,
distracting the attention of those by whom they were manned and thus
affording a respite to their two chiefs from the storm of missiles,
which must otherwise have overwhelmed them. But their situation was
eminently perilous, and was becoming more so with every moment.

"Shame on ye all!" cried De Bracy to the soldiers around him; "d