Thrice they shouted, and my heart sank within me.

Had they slain the Maid?
I knew not, but for torment of soul there is scarce any greater than so to lie, bound and alone, seeing nought, but guessing at what is befalling.
After these shouts it was easy to know that the fighting waned, and was less fierce.

The day, moreover, turned to thunder, and waxed lowering and of a stifling heat.

Yet my worst fears were ended, for I heard, now and again, the clear voice of the Maid, bidding her men "fight on, for all was theirs." But the voice was weaker now, and other than it had been.

So the day darkened, only once and again a shot was fired, and in the dusk the shouts of the English told me over clearly that for to-day our chance and hope were lost.