The Saxons, too, find it necessary to let go their bows, and grasp their javelins and spears to deal with foes in close contact, who by this time have begun to scale the wall. The foremost Normans were met with a merciless slaughter, and it is probable that never a Norman that day would have kept a foothold on the wall had it not been for the support of their archers. These, being now at close quarters, pour their arrows in pitiless showers into the ranks of the defenders, and many a stout Saxon falls with dozens of these barbed messengers of death in his body. Where the attack is hottest, the Saxons reel and stagger, a foothold on the wall is gained, and the Normans are swarming upon it. Oswald immediately dashes to the spot and his battle-axe descends in thunder strokes. Right and left the Normans are beaten down before him; and, with a shout, the Saxons signal the wall clear again. But the respite is brief, for quickly Oswald's attention is directed elsewhere by the loud shouts of the Normans. He turns a hurried glance thitherward, only to see that the Normans there have gained a foothold on the wall, and are rapidly overbearing his handful of men, though Wulfhere manfully stems the tide, and deals out to the Normans many a deadly blow. In a moment, Oswald also is on the spot to the rescue, and once more the tide of victory smiles upon the Saxon cause. Again it is only for a brief span, for like an oncoming and resistless tide the Normans surge upon the wall, and beat back the slender ranks of the Saxons. One advantage, however, the Saxons now reap; the combatants are so mingled in one deadly hand-to-hand struggle, that the Norman archers dare not let fly their shafts, and can only stand, and, with bated breath, watch the sanguinary struggle. In the distance yonder, and at the entrance to the tent, there stand Alice and her maid Jeannette, who shudderingly watch the carnage proceed. Oswald and Wulfhere are now fighting back to back, with shield on arm, and having exchanged their axes for their broadswords. Together they cleave down the ranks of the enemy, until like sheep they quail before these stalwart Saxons. "What matchless valour this pair of Saxon chieftains display, Jeannette! If ever heroism and valour deserved to win a battle, surely this is the time!" "How frightened our men-at-arms seem to be!" said Jeannette. "Do you see how frantically the Baron raves there at the foot of the wall, and shouts at the men? He boasts him of his valour. Why does he not mount the wall and face this Saxon?" "What human lives are being sacrificed! 'Tis most dreadful! May God send us peace quickly!" murmured Alice, shading her eyes at the spectacle before her. "These are our people, Jeannette, but I must confess my sympathies are with the Saxons. This leader, too, defends his home with the courage of a hero. God grant he may not fall into the hands of our men alive, or he will be tortured with fiendish brutality for this day's work!"