ake post at the point
where the road crossed the hill. Their orders were to lie still
till all had passed, and then to make their way back along the
hill, at full speed, to inform the garrison of the strength and
composition of the attacking force.

When they returned to the chateau, people were already pouring in
from the neighbouring farms; the women staggering under heavy
burdens, and the men driving their cattle before them, or leading
strings of horses. The seneschal and the retainers were at work,
trying to keep some sort of order; directing the men to drive the
cattle into the countess's garden, and the women to put down their
belongings in the courtyard, where they would be out of the way;
while the countess saw that her maids spread rushes, thickly, along
by the walls of the rooms that were to be given up to the use of
the women and children.

Cressets had been lighted in the courtyard, but the bonfire was now
extinguished so that the enemy, on reaching the top of the hill,
should see nothing to lead them to suppose that their coming was
known. The alarm bell had ceased sending its loud summons into the
air; but there was still a variety of noises that were almost
deafening: the lowing of cattle, disturbed and angered at the
unaccustomed movement; mingled with the shouts of men, the barking
of dogs, and the crying of frightened children.

"I will aid the seneschal in getting things into order down here,
Francois," Philip said, "while you see to the defence of the walls,
posting the men, and getting everything in readiness to give them a
reception. I will look after the postern doors, and see that the
planks across the moats are removed, and the bolts and bars in
place."

Francois nodded and, bidding the men-at-arms, who had already
returned, stable their horses and follow him, he proceeded to the
walls.

"This is enough to make one weep," Pierre said, as the oxen poured
into the courtyard, and then through the archway that led to the
countess's garden.

"What is enough, Pierre? To see all these poor women and children,
who are likely to behold their homesteads in flames, before many
hours?"

"Well, I did not mean that, master; though I don't say that is not
sad enough, in its way; but that is the fortune of war, as it were.
I meant the countess's garden being destroyed. The beasts will
trample down all the shrubs and, in a week, it will be no better
than a farmyard."

Philip laughed.

"That is o