I will look after the postern doors, and see that the planks across the moats are removed, and the bolts and bars in place." Francois nodded and, bidding the men-at-arms, who had already returned, stable their horses and follow him, he proceeded to the walls.
"This is enough to make one weep," Pierre said, as the oxen poured into the courtyard, and then through the archway that led to the countess's garden.
"What is enough, Pierre?
To see all these poor women and children, who are likely to behold their homesteads in flames, before many hours ?" "Well, I did not mean that, master; though I don't say that is not sad enough, in its way; but that is the fortune of war, as it were.
I meant the countess's garden being destroyed.

The beasts will trample down all the shrubs and, in a week, it will be no better than a farmyard." Philip laughed.
"That is of very little consequence, Pierre.

A week's work, with plenty of hands, will set that right again.

Still, no doubt it will vex the countess, who is very fond of her garden." "A week!" Pierre said.

"Why, sir, it will take years and years before those yew hedges grow again." "Ah well, Pierre, if the countess keeps a roof over her head she may be well content, in these stormy times.