he sought,
covering the retreat of his men, who were bearing Sir Christopher
Seaton, desperately wounded, to the castle. Sir Nigel stood well-nigh
alone on the bridge; his bright armor, his foaming charger bore evident
marks of the fray, but still he rode his steed firmly and unbent, his
plume yet waved untouched by the foeman's sword. Nearer and nearer
pressed forward the English earl, signing to his men to secure without
wounding his gallant foe; round him they closely gathered, but Nigel
evinced no sign either of trepidation or anger, fearlessly, gallantly,
he returned the earl's impetuous charge, backing his steed slowly as he
did so, and keeping his full front to his foe. On, on pressed Lancaster,
even to the postern; a bound, a shout, and scarcely was he aware that
his sword had ceased to cross with Nigel's, before he was startled by
the heavy fall of the portcullis, effectually dividing them, and utterly
frustrating further pursuit. A cry of rage, of disappointment broke from
the English, as they were compelled to turn and rejoin their friends.

The strife still continued within and without the barbacan, and ended
without much advantage on either side. The palisades and outward
barriers had indeed fallen into the hands of the English, which was the
first serious loss yet sustained by the besieged; from the barbacan they
had gallantly and successfully driven their foe, but that trifling
success was so counterbalanced by the serious loss of life amid the
garrison which it included, that both Nigel and Sir Christopher felt the
next attack must deliver it into the hands of the besiegers. Their loss
of men was in reality scarcely a third of the number which had fallen
among the English, yet to them that loss was of infinitely more
consequence than to the foe. Bitter and painful emotions filled the
noble spirit of Nigel, as he gazed on the diminished number of his men,
and met the ill-suppressed groans and lamentations of those who had, at
the first alarm of the English, sought shelter and protection in the
castle; their ill-suppressed entreaties that he would struggle no longer
against such odds grated harshly and ominously on his ear; but sternly
he turned from them to the men-at-arms, and in their steadfast bravery
and joyous acclamations found some degree of hope.

Yet ere the day closed the besieged felt too truly their dreams of
triumph, of final success, little short of a miracle would realize.
Their fancy that