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De la Tour followed and attacked, and, though he failed to dislodge his enemy, with the assistance of the Boston men he killed several of D'Aulnay's soldiers, burned his mill, and did much other damage.
The silent cry was mighty behind Edelwald's lips; the cry which he intrusted not even to his human breath "My love my love! My royal lady! God, thou who alone knowest my secret, make me a giant to hold it down!" At daybreak a signal on the wall where it could be seen from D'Aulnay's camp brought an officer and his men to receive Madame La Tour's dispatches.
"You had best move in silence," said the officer, turning his head toward them, and no further words broke the march into camp. D'Aulnay's camp was well above the reach of high tide, yet so near the river that soft and regular splashings seemed encroaching on the tents.
Even as my lord if I were dead would be free to marry any one; not excepting D'Aulnay's widow." Marie smiled at that improbable union. "No, I do not feel free." Antonia shivered close to her friend's knees. "Madame, I cannot tell you. But I will show you the token." "Show me the token, therefore. And a sound token it must be, to hold you wedded to a dead man whom in life you regarded as a father."
The soldier saw his escape was cut off, and desperately casting back his monk's hood, he shouted upwards, "La Tour! La Tour! Put down the ladder it is Edelwald!" At that name, down came a ladder as if shot from a catapult. Edelwald sprung up the rounds and both of D'Aulnay's officers seized him. He had drawn one of his long pistols and he clubbed it on their heads so that they staggered back.
The discharge of firearms, the clash of opposing metals, the thuds of falling bodies, cries, breathless struggling, clubbed weapons sweeping the battlements filled one vast minute. Ladders were thrown back to the stones, and D'Aulnay's repulsed men were obliged to take once more to their trench, carrying the stunned and wounded. A cannon was trained on their breastworks, and St.
D'Aulnay's followers have just hanged him below the fort." "Hanged him! Hanged poor Klussman? Edelwald, I cannot have Klussman hanged!" Le Rossignol had stopped her mandolin, and the children clustered near Edelwald waiting for his notice. One of them now ran with the news to her. "Klussman is hanged," she repeated, changing her position on the table and laying the mandolin down.
Word was brought in that two priests from Montreal were wandering above the falls and trying to cross the St. John in order to make their way to D'Aulnay's fort at Penobscot. So I set after them and brought them in, and they are now in the keep, waiting your pleasure." "Doubtless you did right," hesitated Madame La Tour. "Even priests may be working us harm, so hated are we of Papists.
Father Vincent, lying helpless in the trench, and feeling the chill of lately opened earth through his shaven head and partly nude body, wondered if he also had met D'Aulnay's gratitude for his recent inquiry into D'Aulnay's fitness to receive the sacraments.
Above the mass of D'Aulnay's busy soldiery timber uprights were reared, and hammers and spikes set to work on the likeness of a scaffold. The preparations of the morning made the completion of this task swift and easy. D'Aulnay de Charnisay intended to hang her garrison when he set his name to the paper securing their lives. The ringing of hammers sounded far off to Marie.
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