On, however, the Normans pressed, like their routed compatriots, never dreaming that the Saxons would be prepared for them; and, as a matter of fact, despising them, in any case. Right into the ambush they marched, recklessly and unheeding. Instantly the Saxon war-cry rends the air, and the wood is alive with men who frantically hurl themselves upon the astonished foe. The Normans stagger and reel at the fierce onset, and some fly, coward-like, without striking a blow. But the presence of mind and personal bravery of Pierre stands them in good stead at this juncture. In stentorian tones he shouted, "Notre Dame! Have at the dogs! Follow me!" And whipping out his sword he headed the onset, laying about him lustily and encouraging his men. But the burly Viking, Sigurd, finds none to withstand him, and he makes sad havoc amongst the men-at-arms, who quail and cower before him; whilst his followers, like mountain goats, dart from behind trees and boulders, dealing stealthy and effective strokes, completely nonplussing the Normans with their organised methods. Pierre quickly perceives, however, that they number five to one of the Saxons; and, if the burly Viking's arm can be arrested for ten minutes, victory will come speedily. There is none but he to do it. So boldly he dashes off on the instant and confronts the giant. No mean foeman is Pierre in point of physical strength and courage; but, when to that was added his superb skill in handling his weapon, he is not to be trifled with, even by so doughty a foe as Sigurd. "Ha, ha!" roared the Viking chief, as he witnessed the temerity of this Norman in courting battle with him, and with reckless vigour he smites at Pierre. But the Norman plies shield and sword in defence, and dexterously shifts his ground to get an advantage. In swift succession the thunder-strokes fall, and gleams of fire dart from Pierre's shield and sword as he parries the blows. Scathless, however, he endures the ordeal. "Bravo, Pierre!" his comrades shouted. "Hold _him_ in play a little while, and we will make short work of these churls." Truly everything points to this conclusion, for the Normans have gathered courage wonderfully, and by sheer numbers the Saxons are being rapidly overborne. At the instant, however, the Saxon battle-cry, Ahoi! Ahoi! Ahoi! wakes the echoes in the hills, and Oswald and his men dash into the flanks of the Normans. The effect is electrical. Panic-stricken, they fly before the onrush of the avenging Saxons. The retreat was a regular stampede; and Pierre and his men, along with the stragglers from the first company, rushed into the castle yard breathless with haste, never having made attempt to rally. De Montfort and Vigneau, who had received the former troop with rage and dismay, were little less than frantic at this double disaster and ignoble defeat.