can mine beneath our feet. Heard you
any new noise of war this day?"

"I heard such a roar and clatter as never was in my ears, whether at
Orleans or Paris."

"And well you might! This convent is in the very line of the fire. They
have four great bombards placed, every one of them with a devilish
Netherland name of its own. There is Houpembiere,--that means the beer-
barrel, I take it,--and La Rouge Bombarde, and Remeswalle and Quincequin,
every one shooting stone balls thirty inches in girth. The houses on the
bridge are a heap of stones, the mills are battered down, and we must
grind our meal in the city, in a cellar, for what I can tell. Nom Dieu!
when they take the boulevard we lose the river, and if once they bar our
gates to the east, whence shall viands come?"

"Is there no good tidings from the messenger?"

"The King answers ever like a drawer in a tavern, 'Anon, anon, sir!' He
will come himself presently, always presently, with all his host."

"He will never come," I said. "He is a . . . "

"He is my King," said Barthelemy. "Curse your own King of Scots, if you
will. Scots, by the blood of Iscariot, traitors are they; well, I crave
your pardon, I spake in haste and anger. Know you Nichole Cammet?"

"I have heard of the man," I said. "A town's messenger, is he not?"

"The same. But a week agone, Cammet was sent on a swift horse to Chateau
Thierry. The good town craved of Pothon de Xaintrailles, who commands
there, to send them what saltpetre he could spare for making gunpowder.
The saltpetre came in this day by the Pierrefonds Gate, and Cammet with
it, but on another horse, a jade."

"Well, and what have the Scots to do with that?"

"No more than this. A parcel of them, routiers and brigands, have crept
into an old castle on the road, and hold it for their own hands. Thence
they sallied forth after Cammet, and so chased him that his horse fell
down dead under him in the gateway of Chateau Thierry."

"They would be men of the Land Debatable," I cried: "Elliots and
Armstrongs, they never do a better deed, being corrupted by dwelling nigh
our enemies of England. Fain would I pay for that horse; see here," and
I took forth my purse from under my pillow, "take that to the attournes,
and say a Scot atones for what Scots have done."

"Norman, I take back my word; I crave your pardon, and I am shamed to
have spoken so to a sick man of his own country-folk. But for your
purse, I am ill at c