BUTLER.  Not yet, sir!

HUGH TALBOT.  Hereafter, then.  God speed you, lads!

JOHN TALBOT.  Speed you, sir! (All five stand at salute as HUGH
TALBOT goes out.  In the moment’s silence upon his exit, JOHN
TALBOT bars the door and turns to his comrades.) You have—­Hugh
Talbot’s orders.  Take your pieces!  Driscoll!  Newcombe!

(Obediently the two join FENTON at windows.) Butler!

BUTLER.  Aye!  We have Hugh Talbot’s orders.

(Points to powder-keg.)

JOHN TALBOT.  Are you meaning—­

BUTLER.  It’s not I will be failing him now!

FENTON (at window).  God!  They waste no time.

JOHN TALBOT.  Already—­they have dared—­

FENTON.  Here—­this moment—­under our very eyes!

DRISCOLL.  Christ Jesus!

(Goes back from the window, with his arm across his eyes, and falls on his knees in headlong prayer.)

JOHN TALBOT.  Kit!  Kit Newcombe!

(Motions him to window.)

NEWCOMBE.  I cannot!  I—­

JOHN TALBOT.  Look forth!  Look!  And remember—­when you meet them—­remember! (NEWCOMBE stands swaying, clutching at the grating of the window, as he looks forth.) Lads! (Motions to BUTLER and FENTON to carry the powder to the stairhead.) The time is short.  His orders!

(DRISCOLL raises his head and gazes fixedly toward the centre of the room.)

FENTON.  Yonder, at the stairhead.

BUTLER.  Aye.

(FENTON and BUTLER carry the keg to the door.)

NEWCOMBE.  Not that!  Not that death!  No!  No!

JOHN TALBOT.  Be silent!  And look yonder!  Driscoll!  Fetch the light!  Newcombe!  Come!  You have your places, all.

DRISCOLL.  But, Captain!  The sixth man—­where will the sixth man be standing?

(There is a blank silence, in which the men look questioningly at DRISCOLL’S rapt face and at one another.)

JOHN TALBOT.  Sixth?

FENTON.  What sixth?

DRISCOLL.  The blind eyes of ye!  Yonder!

(Comes to the salute, even as, a few moments before, he has saluted HUGH TALBOT, living.

NEWCOMBE gives a smothered cry, as one who half sees, and takes courage. FENTON dazedly starts to salute.  Outside a bugle sounds, and a voice, almost at the door, is heard to speak.)

VOICE OUTSIDE.  For the last time:  will you surrender you?

JOHN TALBOT (in a loud and confident voice).  No!  Not while our commander stands with us!

VOICE OUTSIDE.  And who might your commander be?

JOHN TALBOT.  Hugh Talbot, the Captain of the Gate!  The light here, Phelimy.

(JOHN TALBOT bends to set the candle to the powder that shall destroy Cashala Gatehouse, and all within it.  His mates are gathered round him, with steady, bright faces, for in the little space left vacant in their midst they know in that minute that HUGH TALBOT stands.)