Hark! they charge us.

Back to the Towers--there is no other way." So they turned and fled, followed by shouts and the thunder of many horses galloping.

In two minutes they were there and across the bridge--the women, Christopher, and the three men who were left.
"Up with the bridge!" cried Christopher, and they leapt from their saddles and fumbled for the cranks; too late, for already the Abbot's horsemen pressed it down.
Then a fight began.

The horses of the enemy shrank back from the trembling bridge, so their riders, dismounting, rushed forward, to be met by Christopher and his three remaining men, who in that narrow place were as good as a hundred.

Wild, random blows were struck in the darkness, and, as it chanced, two of the Abbot's people fell, whereon a deep voice cried-- "Come back and wait for light." When they had gone, dragging off their wounded with them, Christopher and his servants again strove to wind up the bridge, only to find that it would not stir.
"Some traitor has fouled the chains," he said in the quiet voice of despair.