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Updated: June 18, 2025
"Say, men, how can ye hope to resist the might of the Prince's arm? Say, which will ye do be the free servants of Gaston de Brocas, or die like rats in a hole for the sake of yon wicked madman, whose slaves ye have long been? Which shall it be a De Brocas or a Navailles?" Something in this last appeal stirred the hearts of the men. It seemed as though a veil were torn from their eyes.
Small wonder was it, then, when Gaston de Brocas stood forth in the sunshine, the King's warrant in his hand, words of good augury upon his lips, and a compact little body of armed men at his back, proclaiming himself the Lord of Saut, and inviting to his service the men who were now trembling before the caprices and cruel cunning of a madman, that they exchanged wondering glances, and spoke in eager whispers together, fearful lest the Navailles should approach from behind ere they were aware of it, and feeling that there was here such a chance of escape from miserable bondage as might never occur again.
Thus equipped, need we fear these human wild beasts? Methinks we shall sweep this day from the face of the earth a fouler scourge than ever beasts of the forest prove." "Hist!" whispered Oliver de Brocas cautiously; "methinks I hear a sound approaching. It is our fellows joining us." Oliver was right.
Giving his arm to Joan, who was looking absolutely radiant in her stately beauty, he led her down into the hall below, where the Prince was seated with some knights and nobles round him Master Bernard de Brocas occupying a seat upon his right hand examining witnesses and looking at the papers respecting the ownership of Basildene which were now laid before him.
There was one long minute's pause, whilst looks and whispered words were exchanged, and then a shout arose: "De Brocas! De Brocas!
It almost seemed as though he bore a charmed life in that grim scene of bloodshed and confusion, though perhaps he owed his safety more to the faithful support of the two Gascon brothers, who together with John de Brocas followed the Prince wherever he went, and averted from his head many a furious stroke that else might have settled his mortal career for ever.
Master Bernard de Brocas turned his kindly face towards Gaston with a look of shrewd inquiry in his eyes.
All I for certainty know is that your father, Arnald, brought hither his wife, flying from some menaced peril, fearful of capture and discovery; and that here in this lonely mill, amongst those who had ever loved the name of De Brocas, the sweet lady was able to hide her head, and to find a place of safe refuge.
I trow ye will none of you lament the day ye transferred your allegiance from yon miscreant to Gaston de Brocas!" Another cheer, heartier than the last, broke from the lips of all the men. They had been joined now by their comrades within the Castle, and in the sense of freedom from the hateful tyranny of their old master all were rejoicing and filled with enthusiasm.
The Sieur de Navailles in the south, who by joining the French King's standard had already made himself a mark for Edward's just displeasure when the time should come for revenging himself upon those treacherous subjects in Gascony, would be certain to hold in especial abhorrence any De Brocas who would be like to cast longing eyes upon the domain he had so long ruled over; whilst in England the fierce and revengeful Sanghursts would have small scruple in seeking the destruction of any persons who would rise to dispute their hold on Basildene.
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