Leaving half a score of his best men in the house, and commanding all that were in the house to be silent and without fear, the Lord of Brunn sallied forth with all the rest of his merry men: and as soon as he and they were beyond the moat, the little garrison drew up the draw-bridge and made fast the gate. When he counted his troop, he found it to be not more than fifty strong; but every man of them was vigorous and well equipped; and there was truth in the Saxon song which said that every true Saxon in arms was equal to three Frenchmen, and that the Lord of Brunn never turned his back even upon six Frenchmen. Warned by Elfric, that best of all scouts, when Ivo was crossing the stream, and calculating his only time to a nicety, Hereward marched through a corner of the wood and took post on some broken ground near the end of the little bridge. His people were all as silent as the grave, and so they continued; nor could they be seen any more than they could be heard, for they lay in the hollows of the ground with their faces prone to the earth, and their bows and weapons under them: and the night was now rather dark, and the trees which grew close behind the broken ground cast a deep shadow over it. The Saxons had not been long in this their ambuscade when they heard a loud shouting of “A Taille-Bois! A Taille-Bois!” which came from the side of the manor-house; and the next instant they heard another loud shouting in their front of “Torauld! Torauld!” “So so!” said Hereward, “the twain have timed their marches well! The monk will be here anon; but let every Saxon among us remain on his face until he cross the narrow bridge, and then up and fall on!” And as the Lord of Brunn said, so was it done. Eager to get possession of the bridge, the monk from Fescamp avoided the little township, and came straight to the stream[181] which flowed between it and the manor-house, and crossed over the bridge with all his people: and no sooner were they all over than the Saxons started up like armed men springing from the bowels of the earth, and shouting “Hereward for England!” they fell upon their amazed and confounded enemy, who could neither discover their strength nor form themselves into any order of battle. Instanter some of the Normans screamed that these were the devils of Crowland risen again; and so, screaming, they made a rush back to the bridge. Now the bridge was very narrow, and walled on either side with a parapet wall of brickwork; and when the whole of Torauld’s force began to follow the first fuyards,[182] with a mad rushing and confusion, they got jammed together upon that narrow bridge, or falling one over the other they obstructed the passage. Torauld, that big monk, could not get upon the bridge at all, or near to it. And as he stood crowded and squeezed by his disordered men, and heard the Saxon battle-axe ringing upon their mailed armour and plated shields, he set up his big voice and cried “Quarter! Quarter! Mercy, O Lord of Brunn!”