I
have great pity for your soul. Yield you, and all shall be well."
But he would not listen; his face was black like a thundercloud,
and with his picked bodyguard of men, he retreated backwards, sword
in hand, upon the bridge, seeking to gain the other tower, not
knowing its desperate condition, and hoping there to make a last
stand.
But he was not destined to achieve his end. Suddenly the bridge
gave way beneath his feet, and he and his men were all precipitated
into the water. It looked to us as though a miracle had been
wrought before our eyes; as though the gaze of the Maid had done
it. But the truth was afterwards told us, that a fire ship from the
city had been sent across and had burned the bridge, cutting off
the retreat of the English that way.
And now we heard the din of battle going on within Les Tourelles;
for La Hire had crossed the repaired bridge with a gallant band of
soldiers, and our men, hearing the shouts of their comrades, and
the cries of the trapped English, flung themselves into boats, or
swam over, sword in mouth, anything to get to the scene of the
fray; whilst others set to work with planks, and whatever they
could lay hands upon, to mend the broken drawbridge that they might
swarm across into Les Tourelles and join in the final act of
victory, that should free Orleans from the iron grip in which she
had been held so long.
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