By the time they came in sight of the monastery, he was exasperated
beyond measure to be so held behind and was in no mood to wait the
mob's leisure. He leapt from his horse and threw rein to his man.
No light was to be seen. It appeared the monks had either deserted
their dwelling or fortified it by fastening with boards the windows
and doors. The latter was the case. The besiegers with all sorts of
sticks, stones and bludgeons began at once to bombard the building
that stood dark and seemingly impregnable. Buckingham stood some
distance from them, as if indeed he were of different mould and could
not mingle with their steaming, smoking, foul-smelling bodies, that
reeked of gin and poor tobacco. He waited only for an entrance to be
made, that he might pass in without the labour of making an opening
for himself. Indeed, his arm, unused to such rough strength, would
become unfit to handle the sword of a gentleman.
He was leant upon one knee behind a strip of iris that bordered a
forest path, when suddenly he heard the crash of glass and heard a
triumphant yell from the mob.
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