Peter received a stunning blow upon the helmet, and, dizzy and sick, was forced to cling to the wall to save himself from falling. Wielding a battleaxe he had snatched from a stricken man-at-arms, Edgar beat off those who assailed him, and the horsemen, unable to stop their impetuous charge, swept heavily onwards past him. Some thundered through the gateway hot upon the track of the fleeing peasants, whilst others, after careering a dozen yards along the courtyard, checked their steeds and prepared to charge back again upon the only two of their enemies yet remaining on their feet within the four walls of the castle. To Edgar all seemed lost. The peasants were in hopeless flight, and the way to safety through the castle gates was barred by the horsemen already spurring through. De Maupas was one of the horsemen who had refrained from following up the fleeing peasantry, and seeing the hopeless plight of the young esquire, he gave a cry of savage joy and shouted to his companions to spur down upon him and beat him into the dust. To rush for the gateway, and to strive to escape that way, meant being caught in the rear by the charging horsemen. This was obvious, and, with the speed of thought, Edgar seized upon another opening so bold and desperate that it appeared the counsel of sheer despair. "Quick, Peter!" he cried in sentences short and sharp, like the jab of a sword. "To the donjon--we must take refuge there! Rouse thyself, or we are sped!" Shaking off his dizziness as best he could, Peter tottered towards the open door of the keep a yard or two away. It was guarded by two men-at-arms, but Edgar had already attacked them with the energy born of despair and of the ruin of all his plans. Swinging his axe with a strength that crushed down all his opposition, he clove his way through the doorway, seized the great iron-plated door, and, as Peter sprang through, flung it violently to behind him. "A hand here, Peter, if thou canst!" he cried rapidly, indicating a number of great blocks of stone piled against the wall to halfway up the stairs. Dropping his axe and seizing one with both hands, he swung it against the door. Another and another followed, until in a few seconds the strength of the door was doubled and trebled by the weight of a solid mass of great stones piled behind. Peter was now almost himself again, and seeing that entry by the main gateway was effectually barred for a time, cried excitedly: "But what of the door from the courtyard to the dungeons, Master Edgar? Will they not enter there? If ’tis only to sell our lives dearly that thou hast fought thy way in here, let us climb upwards and defend ourselves upon the summit of the keep."