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Page 54
This thrilling announcement called forth more than one cry from the lips
of the trembling listeners. To increase the panic, a groom burst into
the room, and whispered something into the Lady Margaret's ear that made
her start and turn pale as marble. Awhile she sat motionless and
apparently sinking. But it was not long before her weakness disappeared,
and her face assumed a serene, undaunted expression that imparted new
hope to those who were sobbing about her. The wailing was hushed as she
rose and said, calmly and without faltering:
"We shall probably be attacked in a few hours by an inferior force. Let
us pray to God that we may be able to defeat their malice."
In uttering this she had fallen upon her knees, and the rest of the
group, imitating her example, knelt beside her. When that solemn and
fervent prayer was over, the voice of the gray palmer was again heard,
as he cried:
"If any man here can still hurl stone, or thrust spear, let him follow
me to the walls!"
About six, in whom age had not quenched the fire or strength of youth,
and as many beardless youths, sprang up at the call, and accompanied the
speaker out of the room.
Exclusive of this new force, the defenders of the castle were not more
than twenty, yet so admirable were its defences that they might hold in
check an attacking party of more than a hundred. The warder and his men
were grouped together at the main gate, straining their eyes against the
horizon, where the smoke of some cottages indicated the presence of the
foe, when the palmer advanced and asked permission to assist them. This
was readily granted, and the recruits were soon supplied with defensive
armor and the usual weapons. The palmer wore his headpiece over his
hood, and, with his breast-plate over his gown, which, tucked up with
more than John Chandos' prudence, but half revealed the thigh-pieces
beneath it, he was equally conspicuous and grotesque.
A body of mounted men could now be plainly seen rapidly advancing. They
no longer stayed to desolate the humble dwellings in their path, but
swept on against the stately castle which seemed to bid them defiance.
The Lady Margaret was now among the soldiers, animating them to
resistance. Guided by the palmer, to whom the command had been tacitly
yielded, the men were busily engaged in carrying large stones up to the
battlements over the archway.
"Who are our assailants?" asked the maiden, as with a firm step she
mounted the wall.
The advancing troops rode up to the raised drawbridge, displaying as
they came the picturesque costume and swarthy face of the Bohemian
marauder. The Lady Margaret's cheek was now deeply flushed, and the
haughty spirit of her race flashed within her eyes and curled her lip in
scorn.
"They are not a hundred," she said to the palmer, who stood at her side.
In reply, the palmer pointed to a body of men-at-arms, then emerging
from a clump of trees in which they had been hitherto concealed. Her
color fell at the sight of this new force--yet only for a moment: the
next instant her cheek resumed its glow. This column, about a hundred
strong, approached slowly and cautiously, as if expecting a sally, until
they too had reached the moat.
"We call upon you to open your gates!" exclaimed a knight, who rode a
little in advance.
"To whom?" replied the Lady Margaret, in a loud voice.
"To your rightful king and master, Henry of Austria!"
"We do not own a monarch," she returned, "who has forfeited the crown,
and our gates shall be closed against all who come in his name."
"You refuse to surrender?"
"Yes!"
"Prepare then, for we will force a passage!"
"We are ready, and invite you to begin!"
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