Shouts of applause greeted the words. An excited individual near the speaker levelled a pistol and fired point-blank at Tom, narrowly missing his head. Then once more there was silence. The crowd, in fact, seemed to have realized their own power now, and knew well that the church was surrounded. Eager though they were to slaughter the troopers, they did not grudge a few moments' delay. "Who are you?" they shouted hoarsely. "I am English," answered Tom at once, "and so are four others amongst us. We were being carried as prisoners." "A lie!" came fiercely from someone in the crowd. "If he and the four beside were prisoners, why then were they armed? Why did they fight us at the entrance to the village?" The argument was greeted with roars of applause again, which silenced all Tom's efforts. Then the blacksmith held his hammer aloft to command silence, and, having obtained it, seized a torch and held it high up toward our hero. "Listen, friends and brothers," he called in hoarse tones. "There is one above who speaks our tongue and tells us that he and four others are English and therefore friends. Good! Let us say that this is no lie. There are four, while we are four hundred. Let these four, with the one who speaks to us, come out from the church. If their tale is true they shall live and we will feed and house them. If they lie----" The sentence was broken by discordant shouts of glee at the blacksmith's wit, shouts that boded ill for anyone foolhardy enough to place himself in the hands of such people, so roused by events, and mad for slaughter, that they were incapable of recognizing friend from foe. "Let the five come out to us," shouted the blacksmith, "leaving the others to be dealt with as we will." Tom waited for the noise which followed to die down, and then bent over the crowd. "What you ask is impossible," he said firmly. "I and my English friends will not desert the troopers. But we are ready to hand ourselves over to a body of English troops when you bring them to us. To you we will not trust ourselves, and I warn you that efforts on your part will lead to the death of many. Now, be wise; reflect on the consequences and leave us alone." Had he wished to stir the rage of the peasants Tom could not have done it more effectually. Screams of rage filled the air, while a torrent of bullets sped toward him. He stepped back from the ledge, clambered down the stairs, and seized a carbine and ammunition. "My friends," he said in French, "those wolves outside ask for our lives. We will sell them dearly. Let each man fire the moment the attack begins, remembering to make each shot tell, for ammunition is very scarce. Ah, is that you, Andrews?"