Soon we saw the army break into three, and come forth to assault us at different points.  Of the southeastern bastion, where I was stationed, I can only tell.  What happened otherwhere I only know by hearsay.  There we had some forty of our complement of men to relieve one another with the stones, and shoot their arrows, and be prepared for service with the broadsword should need come.  And great prongs we had very swiftly to dislodge the ladders, which with sore effort they strove to thrust into the thick cement ’twixt stone and stone.  And once or twice when the ladder held, there was quick work pouring hot pitch on their heads.  Hour by hour they strove on, caring not for defeat, for when men fell wounded and hurt, others more like devil-cats took their place; but we thought, for our part, the attack was slacker, when sudden, from the northern rampart, that was steeper than the rest, and therefore less defended, rang deadly, heartrending shrieks and clamour for aid, and we knew that at that post the Moors had gained a footing, and “Haste ye, left rank with me,” said Brother Hugo; “you, Bertram, and you, Alain, keep up the defence here.”

So by Brother Hugo’s side I rushed to the northern rampart, and saw him, with his bright blade sweeping like lightning through the air, deal death amid that Sarrasin crowd, that in face of pitch and stones had worked their way up the well-nigh upright wall.

There were with us at that moment some twenty on the rampart, and this was well-nigh enough, had there been no surprise in the attack.  For the Sarrasins could but come up slowly, and one, discomfited at the summit, would roll back and carry with him many that were clambering up below him.  But already some thirty were on the rampart, or in preparation to spring.  And our men had been affrighted and fled, had not Hugo, with his “Rou!  Rou!” loud upraised, relighted their failing courage.  And, indeed, who would not follow bravely such a one, in such peril fearless, and himself tackling already a knot of five or six of the foe with his invincible sword that was named “Roland”?  The white blade swept down sharp and swift, and in a moment two Sarrasins lay helpless, for they were surprised by the swift onset.  Up the blade rose again, and met ready parry and defence from a tall, sinewy fellow, that bore in his address the signs of nobility.  And then began a sharp tussle ’twixt the twain, sword against sword with ready guard of shield, that I saw not, for a passion that I knew not possessed me—­the fever of war, a sad thing, but a glad thing yet when it doth sweep into a youth’s heart in his first assay of arms.  This new thing in me, raging like a fire, bore me to bar the way of two that rushed to clear the path that ran down beside me to the open lawn within, and so to shun the onset of our men who were driving back with good success already those that were in act to spring over the wall.  ’Gainst one I struck, and he, despising my stroke, or but half seeing ’neath the stairway, parried but carelessly, and my blade slipped through, and wounded his sword-arm at the wrist, that it fell slack, and the blade dropped clattering on the paving-stones.  Then the other knave pinned me against the bastion, and I for five good minutes stuck at sword-play with him, he waxing each moment more wild and fierce, I striving to remember and show forth in act all that I had learned of defence.