The White Company

by Arthur Conan Doyle

  CHAPTER XXXI. HOW FIVE MEN HELD THE KEEP OF VILLEFRANCHE

  Under the guidance of the French squire the party passed down two narrowcorridors. The first was empty, but at the head of the second stood apeasant sentry, who started off at the sight of them, yelling loudly tohis comrades. "Stop him, or we are undone!" cried Du Guesclin, and hadstarted to run, when Aylward's great war-bow twanged like a harp-string,and the man fell forward upon his face, with twitching limbs andclutching fingers. Within five paces of where he lay a narrow andlittle-used door led out into the bailey. From beyond it came such aBabel of hooting and screaming, horrible oaths and yet more horriblelaughter, that the stoutest heart might have shrunk from casting downthe frail barrier which faced them.

  "Make straight for the keep!" said Du Guesclin, in a sharp, sternwhisper. "The two archers in front, the lady in the centre, a squireon either side, while we three knights shall bide behind and beat backthose who press upon us. So! Now open the door, and God have us in hisholy keeping!"

  For a few moments it seemed that their object would be attained withoutdanger, so swift and so silent had been their movements. They werehalf-way across the bailey ere the frantic, howling peasants made amovement to stop them. The few who threw themselves in their way wereoverpowered or brushed aside, while the pursuers were beaten back by theready weapons of the three cavaliers. Unscathed they fought their way tothe door of the keep, and faced round upon the swarming mob, while thesquire thrust the great key into the lock.

  "My God!" he cried, "it is the wrong key."

  "The wrong key!"

  "Dolt, fool that I am! This is the key of the castle gate; the otheropens the keep. I must back for it!" He turned, with some wild intentionof retracing his steps, but at the instant a great jagged rock, hurledby a brawny peasant, struck him full upon the ear, and he droppedsenseless to the ground.

  "This is key enough for me!" quoth Hordle John, picking up the hugestone, and hurling it against the door with all the strength of hisenormous body. The lock shivered, the wood smashed, the stone flew intofive pieces, but the iron clamps still held the door in its position.Bending down, he thrust his great fingers under it, and with a heaveraised the whole mass of wood and iron from its hinges. For a moment ittottered and swayed, and then, falling outward, buried him in its ruin,while his comrades rushed into the dark archway which led to safety.

  "Up the steps, Tiphaine!" cried Du Guesclin. "Now round, friends, andbeat them back!" The mob of peasants had surged in upon their heels, butthe two trustiest blades in Europe gleamed upon that narrow stair, andfour of their number dropped upon the threshold. The others gave back,and gathered in a half circle round the open door, gnashing their teethand shaking their clenched hands at the defenders. The body of theFrench squire had been dragged out by them and hacked to pieces. Threeor four others had pulled John from under the door, when he suddenlybounded to his feet, and clutching one in either hand dashed themtogether with such force that they fell senseless across each other uponthe ground. With a kick and a blow he freed himself from two otherswho clung to him, and in a moment he was within the portal with hiscomrades.

  Yet their position was a desperate one. The peasants from far and nearhad been assembled for this deed of vengeance, and not less than sixthousand were within or around the walls of the Chateau of Villefranche.Ill armed and half starved, they were still desperate men, to whomdanger had lost all fears: for what was death that they should shunit to cling to such a life as theirs? The castle was theirs, and theroaring flames were spurting through the windows and flickering highabove the turrets on two sides of the quadrangle. From either side theywere sweeping down from room to room and from bastion to bastion in thedirection of the keep. Faced by an army, and girt in by fire, were sixmen and one woman; but some of them were men so trained to danger andso wise in war that even now the combat was less unequal than it seemed.Courage and resource were penned in by desperation and numbers, whilethe great yellow sheets of flame threw their lurid glare over the sceneof death.

  "There is but space for two upon a step to give free play to oursword-arms," said Du Guesclin. "Do you stand with me, Nigel, upon thelowest. France and England will fight together this night. Sir Otto, Ipray you to stand behind us with this young squire. The archers may gohigher yet and shoot over our heads. I would that we had our harness,Nigel."

  "Often have I heard my dear Sir John Chandos say that a knight shouldnever, even when a guest, be parted from it. Yet it will be more honorto us if we come well out of it. We have a vantage, since we see themagainst the light and they can scarce see us. It seems to me that theymuster for an onslaught."

  "If we can but keep them in play," said the Bohemian, "it is likelythat these flames may bring us succor if there be any true men in thecountry."

  "Bethink you, my fair lord," said Alleyne to Sir Nigel, "that we havenever injured these men, nor have we cause of quarrel against them.Would it not be well, if but for the lady's sake, to speak them fair andsee if we may not come to honorable terms with them?"

  "Not so, by St. Paul!" cried Sir Nigel. "It does not accord with minehonor, nor shall it ever be said that I, a knight of England, was readyto hold parley with men who have slain a fair lady and a holy priest."

  "As well hold parley with a pack of ravening wolves," said the Frenchcaptain. "Ha! Notre Dame Du Guesclin! Saint Ives! Saint Ives!"

  As he thundered forth his war-cry, the Jacks who had been gatheringbefore the black arch of the gateway rushed in madly in a desperateeffort to carry the staircase. Their leaders were a small man, dark inthe face, with his beard done up in two plaits, and another larger man,very bowed in the shoulders, with a huge club studded with sharp nailsin his hand. The first had not taken three steps ere an arrow fromAylward's bow struck him full in the chest, and he fell coughing andspluttering across the threshold. The other rushed onwards, and breakingbetween Du Guesclin and Sir Nigel he dashed out the brains of theBohemian with a single blow of his clumsy weapon. With three swordsthrough him he still struggled on, and had almost won his way throughthem ere he fell dead upon the stair. Close at his heels came a hundredfurious peasants, who flung themselves again and again against the fiveswords which confronted them. It was cut and parry and stab as quick aseye could see or hand act. The door was piled with bodies, and the stonefloor was slippery with blood. The deep shout of Du Guesclin, the hard,hissing breath of the pressing multitude, the clatter of steel, thethud of falling bodies, and the screams of the stricken, made up sucha medley as came often in after years to break upon Alleyne's sleep.Slowly and sullenly at last the throng drew off, with many a fiercebackward glance, while eleven of their number lay huddled in front ofthe stair which they had failed to win.

  "The dogs have had enough," said Du Guesclin.

  "By Saint Paul! there appear to be some very worthy and valiant personsamong them," observed Sir Nigel. "They are men from whom, had they beenof better birth, much honor and advancement might be gained. Even as itis, it is a great pleasure to have seen them. But what is this that theyare bringing forward?"

  "It is as I feared," growled Du Guesclin. "They will burn us out, sincethey cannot win their way past us. Shoot straight and hard, archers;for, by St. Ives! our good swords are of little use to us."

  As he spoke, a dozen men rushed forward, each screening himself behind ahuge fardel of brushwood. Hurling their burdens in one vast heap withinthe portal, they threw burning torches upon the top of it. The woodhad been soaked in oil, for in an instant it was ablaze, and a long,hissing, yellow flame licked over the heads of the defenders, and drovethem further up to the first floor of the keep. They had scarce reachedit, however, ere they found that the wooden joists and planks of theflooring were already on fire. Dry and worm-eaten, a spark upon thembecame a smoulder, and a smoulder a blaze. A choking smoke filled theair, and the five could scarce grope their way to the staircase whichled up to the very summit of the square tower.

  Strange was the scene which met their eyes from this eminence.
Beneaththem on every side stretched the long sweep of peaceful country,rolling plain, and tangled wood, all softened and mellowed in the silvermoonshine. No light, nor movement, nor any sign of human aid could beseen, but far away the hoarse clangor of a heavy bell rose and fell uponthe wintry air. Beneath and around them blazed the huge fire, roaringand crackling on every side of the bailey, and even as they looked thetwo corner turrets fell in with a deafening crash, and the whole castlewas but a shapeless mass, spouting flames and smoke from every windowand embrasure. The great black tower upon which they stood rose like alast island of refuge amid this sea of fire but the ominous cracklingand roaring below showed that it would not be long ere it was engulfedalso in the common ruin. At their very feet was the square courtyard,crowded with the howling and dancing peasants, their fierce facesupturned, their clenched hands waving, all drunk with bloodshed and withvengeance. A yell of execration and a scream of hideous laughter burstfrom the vast throng, as they saw the faces of the last survivors oftheir enemies peering down at them from the height of the keep. Theystill piled the brushwood round the base of the tower, and gambolledhand in hand around the blaze, screaming out the doggerel lines whichhad long been the watchword of the Jacquerie:

  Cessez, cessez, gens d'armes et pietons, De piller et manger le bonhomme Qui de longtemps Jacques Bonhomme Se nomme.

  Their thin, shrill voices rose high above the roar of the flames and thecrash of the masonry, like the yelping of a pack of wolves who see theirquarry before them and know that they have well-nigh run him down.

  "By my hilt!" said Aylward to John, "it is in my mind that we shall notsee Spain this journey. It is a great joy to me that I have placedmy feather-bed and other things of price with that worthy woman atLyndhurst, who will now have the use of them. I have thirteen arrowsyet, and if one of them fly unfleshed, then, by the twang of string! Ishall deserve my doom. First at him who flaunts with my lady's silkenfrock. Clap in the clout, by God! though a hand's-breadth lower thanI had meant. Now for the rogue with the head upon his pike. Ha! tothe inch, John. When my eye is true, I am better at rovers than atlong-butts or hoyles. A good shoot for you also, John! The villain hathfallen forward into the fire. But I pray you, John, to loose gently, andnot to pluck with the drawing-hand, for it is a trick that hath marredmany a fine bowman."

  Whilst the two archers were keeping up a brisk fire upon the mob beneaththem, Du Guesclin and his lady were consulting with Sir Nigel upon theirdesperate situation.

  "'Tis a strange end for one who has seen so many stricken fields," saidthe French chieftain. "For me one death is as another, but it is thethought of my sweet lady which goes to my heart."

  "Nay, Bertrand, I fear it as little as you," said she. "Had I my dearestwish, it would be that we should go together."

  "Well answered, fair lady!" cried Sir Nigel. "And very sure I am that myown sweet wife would have said the same. If the end be now come, I havehad great good fortune in having lived in times when so much glory wasto be won, and in knowing so many valiant gentlemen and knights. But whydo you pluck my sleeve, Alleyne?"

  "If it please you, my fair lord, there are in this corner two greattubes of iron, with many heavy balls, which may perchance be thosebombards and shot of which I have heard."

  "By Saint Ives! it is true," cried Sir Bertrand, striding across tothe recess where the ungainly, funnel-shaped, thick-ribbed engines werestanding. "Bombards they are, and of good size. We may shoot down uponthem."

  "Shoot with them, quotha?" cried Aylward in high disdain, for pressingdanger is the great leveller of classes. "How is a man to take aim withthese fool's toys, and how can he hope to do scath with them?"

  "I will show you," answered Sir Nigel; "for here is the great box ofpowder, and if you will raise it for me, John, I will show you how itmay be used. Come hither, where the folk are thickest round the fire.Now, Aylward, crane thy neck and see what would have been deemed an oldwife's tale when we first turned our faces to the wars. Throw back thelid, John, and drop the box into the fire!"

  A deafening roar, a fluff of bluish light, and the great square towerrocked and trembled from its very foundations, swaying this way and thatlike a reed in the wind. Amazed and dizzy, the defenders, clutching atthe cracking parapets for support, saw great stones, burning beams ofwood, and mangled bodies hurtling past them through the air. When theystaggered to their feet once more, the whole keep had settled down uponone side, so that they could scarce keep their footing upon the slopingplatform. Gazing over the edge, they looked down upon the horribledestruction which had been caused by the explosion. For forty yardsround the portal the ground was black with writhing, screaming figures,who struggled up and hurled themselves down again, tossing this wayand that, sightless, scorched, with fire bursting from their tatteredclothing. Beyond this circle of death their comrades, bewildered andamazed, cowered away from this black tower and from these invinciblemen, who were most to be dreaded when hope was furthest from theirhearts.

  "A sally, Du Guesclin, a sally!" cried Sir Nigel. "By Saint Paul! theyare in two minds, and a bold rush may turn them." He drew his sword ashe spoke and darted down the winding stairs, closely followed by hisfour comrades. Ere he was at the first floor, however, he threw up hisarms and stopped. "Mon Dieu!" he said, "we are lost men!"

  "What then?" cried those behind him.

  "The wall hath fallen in, the stair is blocked, and the fire still ragesbelow. By Saint Paul! friends, we have fought a very honorable fight,and may say in all humbleness that we have done our devoir, but I thinkthat we may now go back to the Lady Tiphaine and say our orisons, for wehave played our parts in this world, and it is time that we made readyfor another."

  The narrow pass was blocked by huge stones littered in wild confusionover each other, with the blue choking smoke reeking up through thecrevices. The explosion had blown in the wall and cut off the only pathby which they could descend. Pent in, a hundred feet from earth, witha furnace raging under them and a ravening multitude all round whothirsted for their blood, it seemed indeed as though no men had evercome through such peril with their lives. Slowly they made their wayback to the summit, but as they came out upon it the Lady Tiphainedarted forward and caught her husband by the wrist.

  "Bertrand," said she, "hush and listen! I have heard the voices of menall singing together in a strange tongue."

  Breathless they stood and silent, but no sound came up to them, save theroar of the flames and the clamor of their enemies.

  "It cannot be, lady," said Du Guesclin. "This night hath over wroughtyou, and your senses play you false. What men are there in this countrywho would sing in a strange tongue?"

  "Hola!" yelled Aylward, leaping suddenly into the air with waving handsand joyous face. "I thought I heard it ere we went down, and now I hearit again. We are saved, comrades! By these ten finger-bones, we aresaved! It is the marching song of the White Company. Hush!"

  With upraised forefinger and slanting head, he stood listening. Suddenlythere came swelling up a deep-voiced, rollicking chorus from somewhereout of the darkness. Never did choice or dainty ditty of Provence orLanguedoc sound more sweetly in the ears than did the rough-tonguedSaxon to the six who strained their ears from the blazing keep:

  We'll drink all together To the gray goose feather And the land where the gray goose flew.

  "Ha, by my hilt!" shouted Aylward, "it is the dear old bow song of theCompany. Here come two hundred as tight lads as ever twirled a shaftover their thumbnails. Hark to the dogs, how lustily they sing!"

  Nearer and clearer, swelling up out of the night, came the gay marchinglilt:

  What of the bow? The bow was made in England. Of true wood, of yew wood, The wood of English bows; For men who are free Love the old yew-tree And the land where the yew tree grows.

  What of the men? The men were bred in England, The bowmen, the yeomen, The lads of the
dale and fell, Here's to you and to you, To the hearts that are true, And the land where the true hearts dwell.

  "They sing very joyfully," said Du Guesclin, "as though they were goingto a festival."

  "It is their wont when there is work to be done."

  "By Saint Paul!" quoth Sir Nigel, "it is in my mind that they come toolate, for I cannot see how we are to come down from this tower."

  "There they come, the hearts of gold!" cried Aylward. "See, they moveout from the shadow. Now they cross the meadow. They are on the furtherside of the moat. Hola camarades, hola! Johnston, Eccles, Cooke,Harward, Bligh! Would ye see a fair lady and two gallant knights donefoully to death?"

  "Who is there?" shouted a deep voice from below. "Who is this who speakswith an English tongue?"

  "It is I, old lad. It is Sam Aylward of the Company; and here is yourcaptain, Sir Nigel Loring, and four others, all laid out to be grilledlike an Easterling's herrings."

  "Curse me if I did not think that it was the style of speech of oldSamkin Aylward," said the voice, amid a buzz from the ranks. "Whereverthere are knocks going there is Sammy in the heart of it. But who arethese ill-faced rogues who block the path? To your kennels, canaille!What! you dare look us in the eyes? Out swords, lads, and give them theflat of them! Waste not your shafts upon such runagate knaves."

  There was little fight left in the peasants, however, still dazed by theexplosion, amazed at their own losses and disheartened by the arrival ofthe disciplined archers. In a very few minutes they were in full flightfor their brushwood homes, leaving the morning sun to rise upon ablackened and blood-stained ruin, where it had left the night before themagnificent castle of the Seneschal of Auvergne. Already the white linesin the east were deepening into pink as the archers gathered round thekeep and took counsel how to rescue the survivors.

  "Had we a rope," said Alleyne, "there is one side which is not yet onfire, down which we might slip."

  "But how to get a rope?"

  "It is an old trick," quoth Aylward. "Hola! Johnston, cast me up a rope,even as you did at Maupertuis in the war time."

  The grizzled archer thus addressed took several lengths of rope from hiscomrades, and knotting them firmly together, he stretched them out inthe long shadow which the rising sun threw from the frowning keep. Thenhe fixed the yew-stave of his bow upon end and measured the long, thin,black line which it threw upon the turf.

  "A six-foot stave throws a twelve-foot shadow," he muttered. "The keepthrows a shadow of sixty paces. Thirty paces of rope will be enow and tospare. Another strand, Watkin! Now pull at the end that all may be safe.So! It is ready for them."

  "But how are they to reach it?" asked the young archer beside him.

  "Watch and see, young fool's-head," growled the old bowman. He took along string from his pouch and fastened one end to an arrow.

  "All ready, Samkin?"

  "Ready, camarade."

  "Close to your hand then." With an easy pull he sent the shaftflickering gently up, falling upon the stonework within a foot of whereAylward was standing. The other end was secured to the rope, so that ina minute a good strong cord was dangling from the only sound side of theblazing and shattered tower. The Lady Tiphaine was lowered with a noosedrawn fast under the arms, and the other five slid swiftly down, amidthe cheers and joyous outcry of their rescuers.