"He had time to draw his sword, and posting himself on the half-way landing, where a turn protected him from pistol shots till his assailants were within a sword's length, received their onset. One or two were quickly slain, and the rest came on more cautiously. The Princess, who behaved with extraordinary courage, hearing the clash of steel, flew to him with his pistols, but seeing him engaged, knew that to take off his attention by handing them to him meant certain death. So with true Norman courage she stood at the head of the stair, waiting to do her part. The stair was so narrow that she could not fire past him without the danger of hitting him, though she did fire one of them over his head to show him that she was there, and in the hope of frightening the villains and rousing the servants. But the servants, sleeping in the basement, were divided from them by the brigands, and either did not hear or were too cowardly to move--most likely the latter. "So she retreated up the stairs again, to stand at the head and watch her brother killed unless some miracle should save him. "To rouse me was her first impulse. But here a woman's devotion and instinct interfered. She had heard the men shouting to her brother: 'Give up the Admiral and you shall go unharmed--our quarrel is not with you. We want his ransom.' With a woman's swift wit she divined that to call me was to play into their hands. I had only one arm, and she knew that I should not have brought pistols. She knew, too, that if she roused me I could not be so cowardly as to make my escape while my host was being killed for me; and she had hopes that, even if they killed her and her brother, they might either not find me, or that I might hear them tramping about for me and be able to barricade myself, until assistance arrived, summoned by the cowardly servants, who could be relied on to creep out and run to the city gate, though they would not fight.