It was the shout of valiant but despairing men. Yet, as the danger rose, and as hope became less and less, so rose the determination of the countess. She was present to animate at every place of assault. She distributed gold amongst them; her very jewels she gave in presents to the bravest; but, though they had shed much of the best blood in the Scottish army, their defence was hopeless, and their courage could not save them. Almost their last arrow was expended, and they were repelling their assailants from the inner wall with their spears, when _Want_, the most formidable enemy of the besieged, began to assail them from within. It was now that the gentle Madeline, when Sir William endeavoured to inspire her with hope, replied, "I fear not to die--to die with you!--but tell me not of hope--it is not to be found in the courage of the brave garrison, whom famine is depriving of their strength. There is one hope for us--only one; but it is a desperate hope, and I would rather die than risk the life of another." "Nay, name it, dearest," said Sir William, eagerly; "and if the heart or hand of man can accomplish it, it shall be attempted." Madeline hesitated. "Speak, silly one," said the countess, who had overheard them--"where lies your hope? Could true knight die in nobler cause? Name it: for I wot ye have a wiser head than a bold heart." "Name it, do, dear Madeline," entreated Sir William. "King Edward is now in Yorkshire," she replied; "could a messenger be despatched to him, the castle might hold out until he hastened to our assistance." "St George! and 'tis a happy thought!" replied the countess. "I have not seen my cousin Edward since we were children together; but how know ye that he is in Yorkshire? I expected that, ere now, he was conquering the hearts of the dark-eyed dames of Brittany, while his arms conquered the country." "In dressing the wounds of the aged Scottish nobleman," answered Madeline, "who was yesterday brought into the castle, he informed me." "What think _ye_ of _your_ fair ladye's plan for our deliverance, good brother?" inquired the countess, addressing the governor. "Madeline said it would be a desperate attempt," replied he, thoughtfully--"and it would, indeed, be desperate--it is impossible." "Out on thy knighthood, man!" rejoined the countess. "Is this the far-famed chivalry of Sir William Montague? Why, it is the proposition of your own fair ladye, whom, verily, ye cannot believe chivalrous to a fault. But is it to Joan Plantagenet that ye talk of impossibilities? I will stake thee my dowery against fair Madeline's, I find a hundred men in this poor garrison ready to dare and do what you declare impossible." "You find not _two_, fair sister," said Sir William, proudly. "Oh, say not _one_--not _one_!" whispered Madeline, earnestly.