s!"

And indeed the air was full of a strange droning sound that rose and
fell unceasing, a drowsy, ominous hum.

"Ah, Benedict," said Beltane, frowning a little, "I like not that
sound! Summon we our wisest heads, for here is matter for thought and
sudden action methinks!"

Hereupon Sir Benedict beckoned to his five chiefest knights and they
together followed Ulf's broad back up the slope until they were come
within the little wood; and ever as they advanced the strange hum grew
louder, hoarser--a distant roar, pierced, ever and anon, by sharper
sound, a confused din that was the voice of desperate conflict.
Presently Ulf brought them to the edge of the little wood and, parting
twig and leaf, they looked forth and down. And what they saw was this:

A little valley, wondrous green but very desolate-seeming, for here and
there stood ruined walls and charred timbers that once had been fair
dwellings; and in the midst of this small and ruined hamlet, a mighty
tower uprose, hoary and weather-beaten, yet stark and grim against the
sunset. All about this tower a great camp lay, set well out of bow-shot,
and 'twixt camp and tower were many men whose armour flashed,
rank on rank, and archers who, kneeling behind mantlets, shot amain at
battlement and loophole. Against the tower were two great ladders,
roughly fashioned and a-swarm with men; but ever as they strove to
reach the battlement a mighty axe whirled and swung and a long sword
flashed, and ever as they fell, so fell one of the besiegers.

"There stand Walkyn and Tall Orson!" quoth Ulf, biting his nails. "Ha!--
they be dour fighters--would I stood with them!"

"We come in due season, methinks!" said Sir Benedict, stroking his
square chin, "what is your counsel, my lords?"

Quoth young Sir John of Griswold:

"Let us to horse and sally out on them, the hill is with us and we
shall--"

"Slay and be slain!" quoth Sir Benedict.

"Verily!" nodded grim Sir Bertrand, "dost speak like a very youth,
John!"

"Here, methinks," said Sir Benedict, "is work for pike and bow-string.
First break we their charge, then down on them in flank with shock and
might of all our lances."

"Ha! 'tis well be-thought, Benedict!" growled old Hubert of Erdington,
"so let me march with the pikes."

"Art silent, lord Beltane," quoth Sir Hacon, "dost agree?"

"Aye, truly," answered Beltane, rising, "but let our pikes march in V
formation, our mightiest men at the point of the V, and wit