CHAPTER XX. HOW THE ENGLISH ATTEMPTED THE CASTLE OF LA BROHINIERE
For some minutes Nigel remained motionless upon the crest of the hill, his heart, like lead within him, and his eyes fixed upon the huge gray walls which contained his unhappy henchman. He was roused by a sympathetic hand upon his shoulder and the voice of his young prisoner in his ear.
“ Peste!” said he. “They have some of your birds in their cage, have they not? What then, my friend? Keep your heart high! Is it not the chance of war, to-day to them, to-morrow to thee, and death at last for us all? And yet I had rather they were in any hands than those of Oliver the Butcher.”
“ By Saint Paul, we cannot suffer it!” cried Nigel distractedly. “This man has come with me from my own home. He has stood between me and dea
