This time the blow was expected, and the charge met a wall of spears. Arrows hissed and stung. Sling-stones rapped on helms. Holes gaped in the charging ranks. But still the Crusaders won through, and the Greeks, threatened with disintegration, closed around them in one swirling, milling medley of death and agony. The column was split asunder, disintegrated in its turn, and became a series of independent groups, each fighting to save itself or clear the press. Hugh, with Matteo and Ralph, was completely separated from the rest. So desperate was their onset that they plunged beyond the enemy ranks and were caught up in the stream of retreating Greeks and carried with them toward the gate of Galata. Enemies surrounded them, but the comrades struggled on. Hugh's lance had been shivered early in the fray. He fought now with his sword and Beosund's high-flung heels, for the good horse loved the combat as did his master. "On, comrades!" he cried hoarsely. "They must not bar the gate!" "On!" croaked Matteo and Ralph behind him. They slashed their way through the intervening ranks of fugitive Greeks, cut down the warders who were endeavouring hastily to swing the ponderous doors in place, and then rested on their arms for one precious minute. Within Galata all was disorder, and few knew that the enemy was actually across the threshold. Outside, the remaining Greeks were hotly engaged with the men of Hugh's company. "Hugh," said Matteo. "This has been a brave venture. But we three cannot hope to stand for long by ourselves." "Nay, then, Matteo, we will perish as must be." "We need not perish," returned the jongleur. "Let us two bide here and hold the gate, whilst Ralph rides at speed to summon aid. Our people are fighting with the Greeks outside, unwitting where we are. But let them know, and we shall soon have aid in plenty." "You speak sooth," agreed Hugh. "Ralph, off with you, and be swift, if you would see us alive again." "But, Messer Hugh----" "Off with you! 'Tis our one chance." Ralph shot out of the archway like one of his own arrows from its bow. And the vaulted roof still resounded with the thunder of his departure when a flight of real arrows tinkled on the stones and the comrades' armour. Hugh looked along the arch of the gateway. At the farther end he saw a squad of Greeks, who dodged this way and that, seeking to get a good shot at him. "We shall never live to see our friends," he exclaimed, leaping from his horse, "if we bide here in the open. We must have cover." Matteo pointed to a doorway, scarce wide enough to permit of the horses' passage. "Ay, that will do," said Hugh, and led in Beosund.