d water-mills on the
bridge were crowded with men and women, gazing, and it came into my mind
that Flavy had done ill to leave these mills and houses standing. They
wrought otherwise at Orleans. This was but a passing thought, for my
heart was in my eyes, straining towards Margny. Thence now arose a great
din, and clamour of trumpets and cries of men-at-arms, and we could see
tumult, blown dust, and stir of men, and so it went for it may be half of
an hour. Then that dusty cloud of men and horses drove, forward ever,
out of our sight.

The sun was now red and sinking above the low wall of the western hills,
and the air was thicker than it had been, and confused with a yellow
light. Despite the great multitude of men and women on the city walls,
there came scarcely a sound of a voice to us across the wide river, so
still they kept, and the archers in the boats beneath us were silent:
nay, though the chamber wherein I lay was thronged with the people of the
house pressing to see through the open casement, yet there was silence
here, save when the father prayed.

A stronger wind rising out of the west now blew towards us with a sweet
burden of scent from flowers and grass, fragrant upon our faces. So we
waited, our hearts beating with hope and fear.

Then I, whose eyes were keen, saw, blown usward from Margny, a cloud of
flying dust, that in Scotland we call stour. The dust rolled white along
the causeway towards Compiegne, and then, alas! forth from it broke
little knots of our men, foot-soldiers, all running for their lives.
Behind them came more of our men, and more, all running, and then mounted
men-at-arms, spurring hard, and still more and more of these; and ever
the footmen ran, till many riders and some runners had crossed the
drawbridge, and were within the boulevard of the bridge. There they
stayed, sobbing and panting, and a few were bleeding. But though the
foremost runaways thus won their lives, we saw others roll over and fall
as they ran, tumbling down the sides of the causeway, and why they fell I
knew not.

But now, in the midst of the causeway, between us and Margny, our flying
horsemen rallied under the Maiden's banner, and for the last time of all,
I heard that clear girl's voice crying, "Tirez en avant! en avant!"

Anon her horsemen charged back furiously, and drove the Picards and
Burgundians, who pursued, over a third part of the raised roadway.

But now, forth from Margny, trooped Bur