CHAPTER XIX.

How we set forth to attack _Le Château du Grand Sarrasin_. Of the _Normans_' valour, and of the flight of our foes.

Now, for the next two days Samson had under review our islanders, and the brethren, who in martial accoutrements, and restored moreover already by good store of food, would fain take part in the great matter of executing Heaven's vengeance on Le Grand Sarrasin and his troop. These were bound together in a second regiment auxiliary to the men-at-arms, and set by Samson of his deep wisdom under Hugo's leading.

Now, all this time the Sarrasin sat still awaiting our assault, like a sick lion in his cave, and the only sign of life up at his castle was the green flag on the pole that fluttered in the wind.

And on the third day all was in preparation for the attack. And Samson had it in mind that he and his Normans would bear the brunt of the assault, and have our contingent in reserve to fight on the level when entrance had been made. Now he determined not to attack the Castle on the side towards Vale, but from the south, where the height was not great, and there was good cover of brushwood to hide our strength, and to protect from arrows and balls. We, in a close body, were to lie quiet to the east within a run, and we were told to await his signal to enter in the breach to do our share, or, if need were, to swoop on the pirate swarms unexpectedly, if they essayed to escape to their ships.

And thus once more I found myself by Hugo's side, prepared for sharp fighting.

"See, Nigel," whispered he, as he stood fuming and craving to be himself in the thick of the fighting that soon must chance. "Yonder tree shoots up clean and straight, and, as I fancy, there is clear vision downward to the Castle, and an easy drop and scamper hither again at the signal."

"Let us mount," I said.

So, careless of rules of war and obedience, like two school-lads we swarmed up the smooth trunk, and sat soon in the joinings of the branches. Thence could we see, so far as leaves allowed, the Sarrasin camp within the walls of the château.

They were not to be taken by surprise. For a great array--far greater, I thought, than came down to the Vale Castle--was collected on the green, and being divided into companies, had charge of the engines of defence, or tried the temper of their blades. And I saw others on the wall ready to roll stones and hot pitch upon their assailants, as is the manner of defending castles. And amid the companies stalked heavily the Grand Geoffroy himself in full armour. Could any mistake that great form, and not feel his presence amid those wild men of so many nations, that his spirit alone united into one.

"Heigho!" thought I. "Ill knight that seest without being seen; now without being seen we see thy camp and thee."

As I thought that, his great helm turned our way, and a strange shudder took my limbs, as he seemed to look upward to our roost, and know us to be there.

"He sees us," I said to Hugo.

"That were not possible with mortal eyes," said Hugo; "but even evil beasts are oft aware of the near presence of their foes."

But he had soon to turn his eyes elsewhere, for the Norman assault came sharp and swift, like the rush of great wild creatures through the forest. Indeed it was a rare sight--that sweeping mass of chivalry that seemed to reck naught of the walls, or the arrows, or the balls, or the pitch that a hundred hands rained down on them. Over the wall they went, and through the gate that withstood not their charge. O Heaven! they were not men those Normans, they were storms and floods, they were fire and mad waves of ocean, that scorn with wild gleefulness the granite rock and scarped boulder!

I have seen the sea, swept in by a fierce north wind, so triumph over man's poor defences. I have seen the mad fire catch hold of mart and dwelling in a blazing town that met Duke William's anger. I saw in the north the great eygre rush through Lindis' bed, and swamp the peaceful plain with doom and ruin. Not less resistless, not less vehement was the first assault of Samson's Normans. And I knew now, as I looked, how, by fire and spirit more than by numbers, William won the famous day of Val-ès-dunes, and I might have guessed, had I known what was to hap ere ten years had run away, what would come to pass below Hastings in England on the crown of Senlac.

They recked not of death or wounds--where one line fell, another took its place. Like a river that ceaselessly flows, they swarmed into the Castle, and closed with the Moors. So it seemed that, overcome by the ferocity of the onslaught, the Moors soon gave up all effort to defend the wall, but reinforced the troop that held the crest of the hill, that contended in a mighty struggle with the invading Normans. This way and that way the battle surged. Now it seemed they would drive them back after all, now they themselves were carried backward. Norman and pirate were mixed strangely together in this fierce conflict. We expected each moment that the signal for us to join the fray would ring out, but it came not. It seemed to us that Samson, greedy of honour for his men, desired to claim the total glory of the victory. But we knew not his great sagacity, nor what a strength we were to him lying there in ambush.

But what of Le Grand Geoffroy? We saw him bear the first brunt of the onset. He rushed then like a flame from line to line. And where he was, the Moors seemed to rush on to victory. Once Samson and he had met, but supported by two smart swordsmen, the Sarrasin had retired and left Samson to them. And now we espied him not, and hoped some hand had struck him that we saw not. Meanwhile, the Normans made great way, and drave the enemy back step by step, killing as they went.

Le Grand Geoffroy was neither wounded nor dead! With a great shout he came forth from the very womb of the earth with another swarm of warriors at his heels, and we saw that this last reserve had been kept back to surprise us in the rear. Then, as the great monster rushed in upon the Normans, while still they poured into the Castle, rang out the signal on the trumpet, and from our ward of trees we lusty islanders and zealous monks sprang in to do our share. Here was Hugo, and I his esquire, in the front rank of them all; here was poor distraught Ralf clutching his hilt like a man frenzied. Monk, gentleman, farmer, miller, serf--we all rushed with gladness, that the time at last had come for us to join the battle, in a great wave of fury on the contingent of relief that was headed by Geoffroy himself. And well we did our part. For we, who knew so well the cruelties of the man we fought with, were lifted up by a great spirit of vengeance that seemed not our own, but Heaven's. His men reeled at our charge, and left their attack to face us. We charged, recoiled, and charged again. And this time Hugo and I together swung grandly face to face with the great monster Geoffroy; and Hugo slashed nobly at him, and for the space of full four minutes there was sharp sword-play between them, and I hoped each moment that Hugo would best him.

But the duel was not fought out, for (as I heard after) so well had the Normans fought, and so many pirates lay in heaps on the green, that a great panic at this moment fell upon the pirates, and already, like kine affrighted by a wild beast, they were rushing headlong through the northern gate, that some one had unfastened, and pouring down full-tilt to the Grand Havre, where their ships were, and the Normans were after them like hounds on the scent, slaying as they went.

Now, this Geoffroy saw, and rushing in strove manfully to stay the flight. But they were too frantic to hear him or obey. In a moment he made up his mind.

"Follow my lead, then," I heard him cry to his own reserve; "we will not stay to be cut down here. To the sea! To the sea!"

He jumped into the saddle of his steed, that stood ready caparisoned, and was through the southern gate with the pirates on his heels, and we on theirs, before we were well aware what had happed.

Le Grand Sarrasin was making for his other fleet in Moulin Huet.

And of the Normans and of many of us the pirates had the advantage, for they wore not much armour. With the wings of desperation they fled before us seaward over mile on mile of forest and lane. And like a terrible storm we sped behind. Never again may such a storm rage in Guernsey lanes and hills.

Some that were ill runners were smitten down by us as they lagged behind; some that had been wounded before, and were weak from loss of blood, dropped heavily into the brake on this side or on that; the more part, as they neared the sea, pressed on faster, cheered now and again by the voice of their leader far ahead on his horse, as he shouted, "To the ships! to the ships!"