The Forest Lovers

"Ten, Messire. We brought off the wounded."

"Ten is enough. You shall lose no more. Call off that scaling party."

The Bailiff repeated the order.

"Your men know their work," said Prosper; "but why do they cry for

Saint James?"

The High Bailiff coloured.

"Well, Messire," he said, "there is undoubtedly a Saint James, an

Apostle and a great Saint."

"Of the greatest," said Prosper. "But, pardon. I thought your burgh

was devoted to Saint Crispin?"

"Messire, it is so. But there were reasons. First, your battle-cry

should be familiar----"

"As Saint Crispin to Wanmeeting?"

"As the name of James, Messire. For it is my own poor name."

"Ah," said Prosper, "I begin to see."

"Then," said the Bailiff, pursuing his reasons, "a battle-cry should

be short, of one syllable----"

"Like Saint Dennis?" Prosper asked.

"Like Saint George, Messire."

"Or Saint Andrew?" said Prosper sweetly.

"Or--"

Or Montjoy, or Bide the Time, eh, Bailiff?"

"Messire, you have me at a disadvantage for the moment. The name is,

however, that of a Saint."

"Say no more, Bailiff, but listen. There need be no more bloodshed

over this place. Get your men together, to advance at a signal from

within. I will go alone into the town. Now, do you notice that little

square window in the citadel? When you see the Saltire hang there you

will march in and meet me at the Bishop's Gate."

"Oh, Messire, what will you do?"

"Leave that to me," Prosper said, as he rode off.

He rode close to the moat and kept by it, making a half circuit of the

walls. He had calculated on Galors' armour, and calculated well, for

nobody molested him from the defenders' side. At the Bishop's Gate he

reined up, and stood with his spear erect at the length of his arm.

"Who comes?" cried the sentry.

"Entra per me," growled Prosper, with a shot for Galors' sulky

note.

The gate swung apart, the bridge fell, the portcullis was drawn up.

Prosper rode through the streets of Hauterive amid the silence of the

inhabitants and the cheers of the garrison--two very different sets of

persons. He went into the citadel, displayed the appointed signal,

then returned on horseback to the Bishop's Gate. He had not a word to

say, but this was quite in character. So he stood waiting.