In a very short time ten armed men and the two hinds from Spalding town were safe on the roof; and the brother of Wybert said, “Now Saxons!” and as he heard the signal, Lord Hereward said, “Now Saxons, your horns!” And three stout Saxons, well skilled in the art of noise-making, put each his horn to his mouth and sounded a challenge, as loud as they could blow. Startled and wrathful, but not much alarmed, was the intrusive prior from Angers when he heard this noise, and bade his Angevin sacrist go to the window, and see what the Saxon slaves wanted at this time of night with their rascaille cow-horns! But when the sacrist reported that he saw a great bark lying in the river, and many armed men standing at the edge of the moat (in the darkness the sacrist took sundry stumps of willow-trees for warriors), the man of Angers became alarmed, and all Ivo Taille-Bois’ kindred became alarmed, and quitting the blazing fire and their good wine, they all ran to the windows of the hall to see what was toward. As they were a ruleless, lawless, unconsecrated rabble, who knew not what was meant by monastic discipline, and respect, and obedience, they all talked and shouted together, and shouted and talked so loud and so fast that it was impossible for any Christian man to be heard in answer to them. But at length the pseudo-prior silenced the gabble for a minute, and said, “Saxons, who are you, and what do you want at this hour, disturbing the repose of holy men at a holy season?” Even this was said in Norman-French, which no man understood or could speak, except Hereward and the dark stranger who had attended him hither. But the Lord of Brunn gave out in good round French, “We are Saxons true, and true men to King Harold, and we be come to pull you out of this good nest which ye have defiled too long!” “Get ye gone, traitors and slaves!” cried the false prior from Angers; “ye cannot cross our moat nor force our gates, and fifty Norman lances are lying hard by.” “False monk, we will see,” quoth the Lord of Brunn. “Now, Saxons, your blast-horns again; blow ye our second signal!” The hornmen blew might and main; and before their last blast had ceased echoing from an angle of the walls, another horn was heard blowing inside the house, and then was heard a rushing and stamping of heavy feet, and a clanging of swords in the hall, and a voice roaring, “Let me cleave the skull of two of these shavelings for the sake of Wybert the wright!” “Thou art cold and shivering, Girolamo,” said Hereward; “but step out of that quagmire where thou art standing, and follow me. We will presently warm ourselves at the fireside of these Frenchmen.” Girolamo followed the Lord of Brunn to the front of the house; and they were scarcely there ere the drawbridge was down, and the gate thrown open.