Chapter 8

'Twas when ye raised,' mid sap and siege,
The banner of your rightful liege
At your she captain's call,
Who, miracle of womankind,
Lent mettle to the meanest hind
That mann'd her castle wall.
WILLIAM STEWART ROSE.

The morning light was scarce fully spread abroad, when Eveline
Berenger, in compliance with her confessor's advice, commenced her
progress around the walls and battlements of the beleaguered
castle, to confirm, by her personal entreaties, the minds of the
valiant, and to rouse the more timid to hope and to exertion. She
wore a rich collar and bracelets, as ornaments which indicated her
rank--and high descent; and her under tunic, in the manner of the
times, was gathered around her slender waist by a girdle,
embroidered with precious stones, and secured by a large buckle of
gold. From one side of the girdle was suspended a pouch or purse,
splendidly adorned with needle-work, and on the left side it
sustained a small dagger of exquisite workmanship. A dark-coloured
mantle, chosen as emblematic of her clouded fortunes, was flung
loosely around her; and its hood was brought forward, so as to
shadow, but not hide, her beautiful countenance. Her looks had
lost the high and ecstatic expression which had been inspired by
supposed revelation, but they retained a sorrowful and mild, yet
determined character--and, in addressing the soldiers, she used a
mixture of entreaty and command--now throwing herself upon their
protection--now demanding in her aid the just tribute of their
allegiance.

The garrison was divided, as military skill dictated, in groups,
on the points most liable to attack, or from which an assailing
enemy might be best annoyed; and it was this unavoidable
separation of their force into small detachments, which showed to
disadvantage the extent of walls, compared with the number of the
defenders; and though Wilkin Flammock had contrived several means
of concealing this deficiency of force from the enemy, he could
not disguise it from the defenders of the castle, who cast
mournful glances on the length of battlements which were
unoccupied save by sentinels, and then looked out to the fatal
field of battle, loaded with the bodies of those who ought to have
been their comrades in this hour of peril.

The presence of Eveline did much to rouse the garrison from this
state of discouragement. She glided from post to post, from tower
to tower of the old gray fortress, as a gleam of light passes over
a clouded landscape, and touching its various points in
succession, calls them out to beauty and effect. Sorrow and fear
sometimes make sufferers eloquent. She addressed the various
nations who composed her little garrison, each in appropriate
language.