At the first note it was as though a magic wand had touched every house in La Roque. Each window was illumined. Every door was opened, and forth burst men with torches, all fully armed. In a moment the three companions of the Captain on the platform and the two by the postern were surrounded, disarmed, bound or cut down. In a moment, also, from orchards, vineyards, from out of barns, from behind hedgerows, rose a multitude of men, peasants, fishermen, soldiers of the Bishop, serving-men, all with what weapons they could most readily handle, and closed in on the men of Guillem who had come forward at the note of the bell with purpose to enter by the postern. Then ensued on all sides a wild hubbub of cries, shrieks, shouts of triumph, curses, prayers for mercy. Le Gros Guillem, hanging in mid-air, heard the uproar, saw the upward glow of light, and knew that he and his had been drawn into a cleverly contrived trap, and that he was lost irretrievably. He writhed, he turned, he looked above--there he saw but the face of Ogier remorseless as fate. He looked below--there he saw his men, making desperate battle for life, and falling one by one. He could not distinguish each individual, but he saw knots of men forming whence issued cries and the clash of steel, then the knot broke up and its members dispersed seeking other clusters which they swelled, and whence issued the same cries and din of strife. Presently a great flare of fire rose from below and illumined the whole rock of Gageac. A torch had been applied to a bonfire of faggots ready stacked on the platform. By that glare those below saw the suspended Captain, and uttered a roar of hate and savage delight. In Guillem's ears was a singing, and the growl of voices came in throbs like waves beating on his brain. From those below rose cries of, "Cut the rope! Cast him down! We will receive him on our pikes. He shall fall into the fire!" Slowly the cable was let out, and Guillem felt himself descending. He was glad that it was so. He desired to be in the midst of men, though these were his enemies; for he had his sword at his side and he would die fighting, wounding others, killing those who sought his life. So to perish were a death befitting a soldier--this such a death as he would hail. He put his hand to his sword and grasped the hilt. His blood that had curdled in his arteries began to pulsate, the film that had formed over his eyes was dissipated, and a flash of eager anticipation came into them. But again the rope ceased to be let out. He was suspended just half-way between the castle and the platform below, in full view of the townsmen who had gathered there, standing at a sufficient distance not to be struck by his falling body; he was in view also of the little garrison of the castle who had clambered to the battlements and were looking over at him.