Looking from a window he beheld the walls armed with cannon; the towers vanishing into pinnacles or with terraces on their flat roofs; the battlements dry and grey; the suburbs adorned for a few days longer with the fine stone-work of their churches and monasteries; the vineyards and the woods yellow with autumn tints; the Loire and its oval-shaped islands,--all slumbering in the evening calm.

He was looking for the weak point in the ramparts, the place where he might make a breach and put up his scaling ladders.

For his plan was to take Orleans by assault.

William Glasdale said to him, "My Lord, look well at your city.

You have a good bird's-eye view of it from here." At this moment a cannon-ball breaks off a corner of the window recess, a stone from the wall strikes Salisbury, carrying away one eye and one side of his face.