orner of the yard, and standing in the centre out of the
reach of arrows, set light to it. Martin lay down watching them through
a crack in the floor. Then he signed to Foy, and whispered, and going
to the iron baths, Foy drew from them two large buckets of molten lead,
each as much as a man could carry. Again Martin looked through the
crack, waiting till several of the burners were gathered beneath. Then,
with a swift motion he lifted up the trap-door, and as those below
stared upwards wondering, full into their faces came the buckets of
molten lead. Down went two of them never to speak more, while others ran
out shrieking and aflame, tearing at their hair and garments.

After this the Spaniards grew more wary, and built their fires round
the oak piers till the flames eating up them fired the building, and the
room above grew full of little curling wreaths of smoke.

"Now we must choose," said Martin, "whether we will be roasted like
fowls in an oven, or go down and have our throats cut like pigs in the
open."

"For my part, I prefer to die in the air," coughed Foy.

"So say I, master. Listen. We can't get down the stair, for they are
watching for us there, so we must drop from the trap-door and charge
through the fire. Then, if we are lucky, back to back and fight it out."

Half a minute later two men bearing naked swords in their hands might be
seen bursting through the barrier of flaming wood. Out they came safely
enough, and there in an open space not far from the gateway, halted
back to back, rubbing the water from their smarting eyes. On them, a
few seconds later, like hounds on a wounded boar, dashed the mob of
soldiers, while from every throat of the hundreds who were watching went
up shrill cries of encouragement, grief, and fear. Men fell before them,
but others rushed in. They were down, they were up again, once more they
were down, and this time only one of them rose, the great man Martin. He
staggered to his feet, shaking off the soldiers who tried to hold him,
as a dog in the game-pit shakes off rats. He was up, he stood across
the body of his companion, and once more that fearful sword was sweeping
round, bringing death to all it touched. They drew back, but a soldier,
old in war, creeping behind him suddenly threw a cloak over his head.
Then the end came, and slowly, very slowly, they overmatched his
strength, and bore him down and bound him, while the watching mob
groaned and wept with grief.