Another blow and another! the lower
part was staving inward, but the great central bar still held
firm. Surely another minute would beat it from its sockets.
But suddenly from above there came a great deluge of liquid. A
hogshead of it had been tilted from the battlement until soldiers,
bridge, and ram were equally drenched in yellow slime. Knolles
rubbed his gauntlet in it, held it to his visor, and smelled it.
"Back, back!" he cried. "Back before it is too late!"
There was a small barred window above their heads at the side of
the gate. A ruddy glare shone through it, and then a blazing
torch was tossed down upon them. In a moment the oil had caught
and the whole place was a sheet of flame. The fir-tree that they
carried, the fagots beneath them, their very weapons, were all in
a blaze.
To right and left the men sprang down into the dry ditch, rolling
with screams upon the ground in their endeavor to extinguish the
flames. The knights and squires protected by their armor strove
hard, stamping and slapping, to help those who had but leather
jacks to shield their bodies. From above a ceaseless shower of
darts and of stones were poured down upon them, while on the other
hand the archers, seeing the greatness of the danger, ran up to
the edge of the ditch, and shot fast and true at every face which
showed above the wall.
Scorched, wearied and bedraggled, the remains of the storming
party clambered out of the ditch as best they could, clutching at
the friendly hands held down to them, and so limped their way back
amid the taunts and howls of their enemies.
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