The men exchanged glances, and visibly wavered.  They compared their coarse and stained garments, their rusty arms and battered accoutrements, with the brilliant appearance of the little band of soldiers standing on the opposite side of the moat, their armour shining in the sunlight, their steeds well fed and well groomed, arching their necks and pawing the ground, every man and every horse showing plainly that they came from a region of abundance of good things; whilst the military precision of their aspect showed equally well that they would be antagonists of no insignificant calibre, if the moment should come when they were transformed from friends to foes.

Constanza saw the wavering and hesitation amongst her uncle’s men.  She well knew their discontent at their own lot, their fearful distrust of their lord.  She knew, too, that it was probably some fear of treachery alone that withheld them from making cause at once with the De Brocas —­ treachery having been only too much practised amongst them by their own fierce master —­ and again her voice rang out clear and sweet.

“Men, listen again to me.  I speak to counsel you for your good; for fierce and cruel as ye have been to your foes, ye have ever been kind and gentle to me when I was with you in these walls.  What think ye to gain by defying the great King of England?  Think ye that he will spare you if ye arouse him to anger by impotent resistance?  What more could King have done for you than send to be your lord a noble Gascon knight; one of your own race and language; one who, as ye all must know, has a far better right to hold these lands than any of the race of Navailles?  Here before you stands Sir Gaston de Brocas, offering you place in his service if ye will but swear to him that allegiance he has the right to claim.  The offer is made in clemency and mercy, because he would not that any should perish in futile resistance.  Men, ye know that he comes to this place with the King’s mandate that Saut be given up to him.  If it be not peaceably surrendered, what think ye will happen next?

“I will tell you.  Ye have heard of the Prince of Wales, son of the Roy Outremer; doubtless even to these walls has come the news of that triumphal march of his, where cities have surrendered or ransomed themselves to him, and nothing has been able to stay the might of his conquering arm.  That noble Prince and valiant soldier is now not far away.  We have come from his presence, and are here with his knowledge and sanction.  If we win you over, and gain peaceable possession of these walls, good; no harm will befall any living creature within them.  But if ye prove obdurate; if ye will not listen to the voice of reason; if ye still hold with rebellious defiance to the lord ye have served, and who has shown himself so little worthy of your service, then will the Prince and his warriors come with all their wrath and might to inflict chastisement upon you, and take vengeance upon you, as enemies of the King.