Without a word more he turned, and spurred his horse at the Saracens.
So sudden and fierce was his attack that the foremost riders fell back
on those behind, who were thrown into confusion, while William's sword
swept him a path to the centre, where the prisoners stood bound. The
Saracens expected the city gates to open and a body of Franks to come
forth to destroy them, and without waiting another moment they turned
and fled.
[Illustration: The Captives--William Short-nose rides to the rescue]
"Oh, fair lord," called Gibourc, who from the battlements had watched
the fight, "come back, come back, for now indeed you may enter." And
William heard her voice, and left the Saracens to go where they would
while he struck the chains off the prisoners, and led them to the gates
of Orange, when he himself rode back to the Saracens.
Not again would the Lady Gibourc have reason to call him coward.
And Gibourc saw, and her heart swelled within her, and she repented her
of her words. "It is my fault if he is slain,", she wept. "Oh, come
back, come back!"
And William came.
Now the drawbridge was let down, and he entered the city followed by
the Christians whom he had delivered, and the Countess unlaced his
helmet, and bathed his wounds, and then stopped, doubting.
"You cannot be William after all," said she, "for William would have
brought back the young kinsmen who went with him; and would have been
encircled by minstrels singing the great deeds he had done."
"Ah, noble Countess, you speak truth," answered he. "Henceforth my
life will be spent in mourning, for my friends and comrades who went to
war with me are lying dead at the Aliscan."
Great was the sorrow in the city of Orange and in the palace of her
lord, where the ladies of the Countess mourned for their husbands. But
it was Gibourc who first roused herself from her grief for Vivian and
others whom she had loved well. "Noble Count," she said, "do not lose
your courage. Remember it is not near Orleans, in safety, that your
lands lie, but in the very midst of the Saracens. Orange never will
have peace till they are subdued. So send messengers to King Louis,
and to your father, Aimeri, asking for aid."
"Heavens!" cried William, "has the world ever seen so wise a lady?"
"Let no one turn you from your road," she went on. "At the news of
your distress all the Barons that are your kin will fly to your help.
Their numbers are as the sands of the sea."
"But how shall I make them believe in what has befallen us?" answered
William. "If I do not go myself I will send nobody, and go myself I
will not, for I will not leave you alone again for all the gold in
Pavia."
"Sir, you must go," said Gibourc, weeping. "I will stay here with my
ladies, and each will place a helmet on her head, and hang a shield
round her neck, and buckle a sword to her side, and with the help of
the Knights whom you have delivered, we shall know how to defend
ourselves."
William's heart bounded at her words; he took her in his arms, and
promised that he himself would go, and that he would never lie soft
till he returned again to Orange.