sprang to his feet and drew his sword, but Luke had slipped from the tent, and was gone, laughing in his turn.
Following him out, the Count gave orders that an assaulting column should be formed and march at once upon the castle. The men obeyed with good will, for their successes of the night before had made them full of confidence and eager to complete their triumph. They were angry over the losses they had suffered, and longed especially to punish the practicers of the Black Art whom they blamed for the death of their comrades in arms.
Mounting his horse, the Count led them briskly over the plateau, and only dismounted when they had come to the northwest tower—the last that had fallen into their hands. They entered this tower, passed through it, and marched five or six abreast along the rampart, carrying with them long beams or logs with which to bridge the gap between the rampart and the western door oi the keep.
As all this movement was carried out openly in broad daylight, the sentries of the garrison at once carried word of the attack to their commanders, and Hugh, Edgar, and the Friar all brought every available man to resist the advance. The Friar set up two catapults on top of the keep,
