had gone home, filling the streets and the quays. The enemy thronged in, at first meeting no opposition; they killed every one that they could find, and supposing that the garrison had not dared to encounter them, and had fled, they dispersed in search of pillage. Meantime the English had collected under the fortress; the alarm was given; arms were thrown out to them by the troops, and they swung back down the hill into the press. The French in turn were now surprised. They were scattered in small parties, and cut in pieces in all directions. M. de Fougerolles, who had led the attack, was killed, and they were unable to make an effective rally before Poynings, with the regular troops, was upon them. There was then a general rush for the walls and gates. Eight hundred fell before they could extricate themselves in the darkness, and the rest made their way to the Dauphin's camp, complaining that they had been betrayed. The Dauphin was furious at their carelessness. De Monluc, one of the French generals, accused the Dauphin of cowardice. The night passed in recrimination. In the morning they determined to repair their failure by a general assault.
But though the fortifications were still unrepaired, the English had not been idle in their three weeks of possession. The heavy guns which they had used in the siege had been mounted on the ramparts. Fresh cannon had been landed, which had been sent from Dover; and when the French army, which had come down in haste, with only their arms and horses, and were wholly without Artillery, saw in the daylight the
