With that he bent his good bow, and sent a shaft right through the breast of one of the men-at-arms, who, under De Bracy's direction, was loosening a fragment from one of the battlements to precipitate on the heads of Cedric and the Black Knight. A second soldier caught from the hands of the dying man the iron crow with which he heaved at and had loosened the stone pinnacle, when, receiving an arrow through his headpiece, he dropped from the battlements into the moat a dead man. The men-at-arms were daunted, for no armor seemed proof against the shot of this tremendous archer. "Do you give ground, base knaves!" said De Bracy. "Give me the lever!" And, snatching it up, he again assailed the loosened pinnacle, which was of weight enough, if thrown down, not only to have destroyed the remnant of the drawbridge which sheltered the two foremost assailants, but also to have sunk the rude float of planks over which they had crossed. All saw the danger, and the boldest avoided setting foot on the raft. Thrice did Locksley bend his shaft against De Bracy, and thrice did his arrow bound back from the knight's armor of proof. "Curse on thy Spanish steel-coat!" said Locksley, "had English smith forged it, these arrows had gone through, as if it had been silk or sendal." He then began to call out. "Comrades! friends! noble Cedric! bear back and let the ruin fall." His warning voice was unheard, for the din which the knight himself occasioned by his strokes upon the postern would have drowned twenty war-trumpets. The faithful Gurth indeed sprung forward on the planked bridge, to warn Cedric of his impending fate, or to share it with him. But his warning would have come too late; the massive pinnacle already tottered, and De Bracy, who still heaved at his task, would have accomplished it had not the voice of the Templar sounded close in his ear: "All is lost, De Bracy; the castle burns." "Thou art mad to say so!" replied the knight. "It is all in a light flame on the western side. I have striven in vain to extinguish it." With the stern coolness which formed the basis of his character, Brian de Bois-Guilbert communicated this hideous intelligence, which was not so calmly received by his astonished comrade. "Saints of Paradise!" said De Bracy; "what is to be done?" "Lead thy men down," said the Templar, "as if to a sally; throw the postern gate open. There are but two men who occupy the float, fling them into the moat, push across for the barbican. I will charge from the main gate, and attack the barbican on the outside; and if we can regain that post, be assured we shall defend ourselves until we are relieved, or at least till they grant us fair quarter." "It is well thought upon," said De Bracy; "I will play my part. Templar, thou wilt not fail me?" "Hand and glove, I will not!" said Bois-Guilbert. "But haste thee, in the name of God!"