Yet, as they waited there on the wet road, a confused sense of movement came to them from somewhere out of the darkness, like the sound of the sea galloping in the distance over a mile of midnight sand. Aymery swept round, pulled off his glove with his teeth, and threw it at the man’s feet. “Look to yourself, my friend,” he said. “They are coming through the night yonder. Bring that glove to the Earl, and you shall have your due.” Aymery clapped in the spurs, and went away at a gallop. He did not doubt that it was the King’s arms behind him, pouring upon Southwark to surprise De Montfort’s weak force there, and take him or slay him before the Londoners could gather to his aid. As Aymery galloped through the night, the lights of Southwark and of the city beyond the river came to him in a blur through the mist of rain. He did not slacken even when he came to the outskirts of the place, but rode straight for the Earl’s lodging, shouting to those whom he passed in the street. “Arm, arm,” was his cry as he galloped through. “The King’s men are on us.” And so he brought the news to Simon the Earl. De Montfort and his knights and gentlemen were at supper, but they left the wine cups unemptied, and made haste to arm. The Earl sent his son Simon to ride across the bridge and rouse the train-bands in the city. The narrow streets and alleys of Southwark were soon in a great uproar with the running to and fro of men, the tossing of torches, and all the tumult of a hurried call to arms. A bell began to clash somewhere up in the darkness. The narrow ways were full of movement, of an infinite confusion that struggled and chafed like waters meeting and beating against one another. Trumpets blared. Leaders sought their men, men their leaders. From beyond the river also bells began to peal, the city was bestirring itself, and humming like a hive of bees. Aymery, rushing out from the Earl’s presence, ran against a man with a fiery tangle of bright-red hair. It was Waleran de Monceaux, that rebel of rebels, driven by Gaillard out of Sussex. He caught Aymery by the shoulder, and blessed God fiercely because the Sussex men were the first to show their shields. “Brother,” he shouted, “I have thirty spears for a charge home. I heard you were here. Come. We shall have the van.” They went out together into the street where some of the Earl’s men were already under arms. None the less there was a dire tangle everywhere, the place choked with disorder that promised well for the King’s men if they lost no time. Aymery and Waleran found their bunch of Sussex spears standing steady and stiff for the night’s need. They were soon joined by other knights and their men who gathered out of the wet gloom. De Montfort himself came out, and ordered his archers forward into the outskirts of the suburb, to scout and discover what was happening in the darkness yonder.