They rose to their feet, and looked from the moving shapes amid the brushwood towards the still sleeping, silent town.
"The Lord of hosts is with us," spoke Charles, in a solemn voice; "He will deliver the enemy into our hands.

Let us quit ourselves like men and be strong.

Let us do unto them even as they have done.
Let not the wicked escape us.

The Lord do so to me, and more also, if I reward not unto yon cruel chieftain his wickedness and his cruelties.

If he leave this place alive, let my life pay the forfeit!" A murmur ran through the little group about him.