They expected the others to follow their
example, but one of their leaders placed himself in their way and
threatened to cut them down if they did not first assault the stairs.
"Fools!" he shouted, "do you think that the old fox has wasted the time we
have given him? You may be sure that the richest prizes have been carried
above."
There was an angry altercation, which was continued until those who had
first run into the shop returned with the news that it had been completely
stripped of its contents. There was now no longer any hesitation in
obeying their leader, and the men poured up the stairs in a mass. Suddenly
some torches appeared above, and those in front saw with consternation the
obstacle that stood between them and their prey. They had little time for
consideration, however, for the arrows from the archer now smote them, and
that with a force and rapidity that bewildered them. Five or six of those
in front fell shot through the brain.
"Heads down!" a voice shouted. There was no retreat for those in front,
for the mass behind pressed them forward, and, instinctively obeying the
order, they ran up. But neither helm nor breast-plate availed to keep out
the terrible English arrows, which clove their way through the iron as if
it had been pasteboard. Stumbling over the bodies of those who had fallen,
the front rank of the assailants at last reached the barricade, but here
their progress was arrested.
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