A Gentleman-at-Arms: Being Passages in the Life of Sir Christopher Rudd, KnightStrang, Herbert
History
A Gentleman-at-Arms: Being Passages in the Life of Sir Christopher Rudd, Knight
Strang, Herbert
Adventure stories; Great Britain -- History -- Elizabeth, 1558-1603 -- Juvenile fiction
We waited there at the foot of the stair, holding our weapons in
readiness; but when, after some time, no assault was made upon the door,
I began to be uneasy, and wished I might contrive to see what was
a-doing. We were in utter darkness, and such poor candles as were
commonly used would not suffice to cast an effectual light a yard length
beyond the wall; but a thought coming into my head, I bade Stubbs take
command of the men, and running upstairs to the lady, asked her if she
had any means of making torches or flares. Instantly she led me by a
back stair to a lower room where was a quantity of tow, and while I
shredded this and fashioned it to my purpose, she fetched me a pot of
swine’s lard and two long and slender chains. Then returning to the
upper room, we kindled these flares, and let them down over the
window-sill into the courtyard, amid a great outcry from the enemy. By
their light we saw the courtyard swarming with men, and our people were
able to take surer aim with their missiles; but we had little good of
them, as you shall see.
I observed that the penthouse of rafts was still about the door, and was
much perplexed as to what was a-doing there. On a sudden the rafts fell
with a clatter upon the ground, and the men whom they had sheltered ran
swiftly towards the wall, whither their comrades had retreated so as
they might be the farthest possible from our missiles. The meaning of
their behaviour flashed upon my mind, and in my haste letting fall the
chain I held, I caught Mistress Sheila about the waist, and carried her
swiftly into her inner room. I had but just set her down, she still
grasping her chain, when from below there burst a shattering din, and
the keep seemed to rock upon its base. Springing down the stairs, I
rushed into the bitter smother of gunpowder smoke, and saw by the light
of my dropped flare, that shone through a rent in the door, the men I
had left thrown down in a heap upon the floor. One of them was dead,
but the rest, though bruised and shaken, recovered from their benumbment
in time to stand with me upon the lowest stairs, before the enemy,
leaping across the courtyard, came with fierce shouts to enter by the
breach they had made.
Happily it was so narrow as that only two men could come through
abreast, and the stair wound in such sort that we had free play for our
right arms, while the enemy were impeded by the round of the wall. So
close cramped were we that there was no place for the subtleties of
fence, in which we might have had some superiority over our less skilled
adversaries. Stubbs and I, standing the lowest, plied our swords, made
for nicer work, with mere vehemency, beating aside the weapons of our
assailants, and using our points whenever we could. Behind us were two
Irishmen armed with pikes, which they thrust between us, with no small
risk to ourselves; and yet higher, a man hurled stones over our heads
upon the thickening crowd.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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