great beam and even began to retire slowly along the rampart.
Thereupon the Friar, waiting for a few moments, kept watch upon the besiegers, as well as he could make them out through the darkness. The Count, seeing nothing had followed, ordered the attack to be renewed, crying out:
"Are ye to be frightened from your work by the blast of a whistle, ye cowards? Down with the door!"
Then the Friar, slipping down the stairway, ordered the fuse to be lighted, and then with the soldier ran along the ramparts to the keep. Here were two ropes with loops at the ends, and the Friar and his companion, putting their feet through the loops and clinching to the ropes, were hauled quickly to the top of the keep and there lifted over the battlements.
Hardly were they upon the keep than the explosion took place, throwing dozens of the besiegers from the wall, splitting it in two and opening a great gap between the tower and the assaulting-party. The Count, having been near the ram, was thrown backward and almost stunned by the shock. But in spite of all the damage that was done, the moral effect of the second explosion was far less than that of the first. Although there was the same smell of sulphur, this time the
