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diff --git a/old/2845.txt b/old/2845.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..55e59f8 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/2845.txt @@ -0,0 +1,13685 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Sir Nigel, by Arthur Conan Doyle + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Sir Nigel + +Author: Arthur Conan Doyle + +Posting Date: December 27, 2008 [EBook #2845] +Release Date: October, 2001 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SIR NIGEL *** + + + + +Produced by An Anonymous Project Gutenberg Volunteer + + + + + +SIR NIGEL + +By Sir Arthur Conan Doyle + + + + +CONTENT + + + + I. THE HOUSE OF LORING + + II. HOW THE DEVIL CAME TO WAVERLEY + + III. THE YELLOW HORSE OF CROOKSBURY + + IV. HOW THE SUMMONER CAME TO THE MANOR HOUSE OF TILFORD + + V. HOW NIGEL WAS TRIED BY THE ABBOT OF WAVERLEY + + VI. IN WHICH LADY ERMYNTRUDE OPENS THE IRON COFFER + + VII. HOW NIGEL WENT MARKETING TO GUILFORD + + VIII. HOW THE KING HAWKED ON CROOKSBURY HEATH + + IX. HOW NIGEL HELD THE BRIDGE AT TILFORD + + X. HOW THE KING GREETED HIS SENESCHAL OF CALAIS + + XI. IN THE HALL OF THE KNIGHT OF DUPLIN + + XII. HOW NIGEL FOUGHT THE TWISTED MAN OF SHALFORD + + XIII. HOW THE COMRADES JOURNEYED DOWN THE OLD, OLD ROAD + + XIV. HOW NIGEL CHASED THE RED FERRET + + XV. HOW THE RED FERRET CAME TO COSFORD + + XVI. HOW THE KING'S COURT FEASTED IN CALAIS CASTLE + + XVII. THE SPANIARDS ON THE SEA + + XVIII. HOW BLACK SIMON CLAIMED FORFEIT FROM THE KING OF SARK + + XIX. HOW A SQUIRE OF ENGLAND MET A SQUIRE OF FRANCE + + XX. HOW THE ENGLISH ATTEMPTED THE CASTLE OF LA BROHINIERE + + XXI. HOW THE SECOND MESSENGER WENT TO COSFORD + + XXII. HOW ROBERT OF BEAUMANOIR CAME TO FLOERMEL + + XXIII. HOW THIRTY OF JOSSELIN ENCOUNTERED THIRTY OF FLOERMEL + + XXIV. HOW NIGEL WAS CALLED TO HIS MASTER + + XXV. HOW THE KING OF FRANCE HELD COUNSEL AT MAUPERTUIS + + XXVI. HOW NIGEL FOUND HIS THIRD DEED + + XXVII. HOW THE THIRD MESSENGER CAME TO COSFORD + + + + +INTRODUCTION + + +Dame History is so austere a lady that if one, has been so ill-advised +as to take a liberty with her, one should hasten to make amends by +repentance and confession. Events have been transposed to the extent of +some few months in this narrative in order to preserve the continuity +and evenness of the story. I hope so small a divergence may seem a +venial error after so many centuries. For the rest, it is as accurate as +a good deal of research and hard work could make it. + +The matter of diction is always a question of taste and discretion in a +historical reproduction. In the year 1350 the upper classes still spoke +Norman-French, though they were just beginning to condescend to English. +The lower classes spoke the English of the original Piers Plowman text, +which would be considerably more obscure than their superiors' French if +the two were now reproduced or imitated. The most which the chronicles +can do is to catch the cadence and style of their talk, and to infuse +here and there such a dash of the archaic as may indicate their fashion +of speech. + +I am aware that there are incidents which may strike the modern reader +as brutal and repellent. It is useless, however, to draw the Twentieth +Century and label it the Fourteenth. It was a sterner age, and men's +code of morality, especially in matters of cruelty, was very different. +There is no incident in the text for which very good warrant may not be +given. The fantastic graces of Chivalry lay upon the surface of life, +but beneath it was a half-savage population, fierce and animal, with +little ruth or mercy. It was a raw, rude England, full of elemental +passions, and redeemed only by elemental virtues. Such I have tried to +draw it. + +For good or bad, many books have gone to the building of this one. I +look round my study table and I survey those which lie with me at the +moment, before I happily disperse them forever. I see La Croix's +"Middle Ages," Oman's "Art of War," Rietstap's "Armorial General," De la +Borderie's "Histoire de Bretagne," Dame Berner's "Boke of St. Albans," +"The Chronicle of Jocelyn of Brokeland," "The Old Road," Hewitt's +"Ancient Armour," Coussan's "Heraldry," Boutell's "Arms," Browne's +"Chaucer's England," Cust's "Scenes of the Middle Ages," Husserand's +"Wayfaring Life," Ward's "Canterbury Pilgrims;" Cornish's "Chivalry," +Hastings' "British Archer," Strutt's "Sports," Johnes Froissart, +Hargrove's "Archery," Longman's "Edward III," Wright's "Domestic +Manners." With these and many others I have lived for months. If I have +been unable to combine and transfer their effect, the fault is mine. + +ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE. + +"UNDERSHAW," November 30, 1905. + + + + +I. THE HOUSE OF LORING + + +In the month of July of the year 1348, between the feasts of St. +Benedict and of St. Swithin, a strange thing came upon England, for out +of the east there drifted a monstrous cloud, purple and piled, heavy +with evil, climbing slowly up the hushed heaven. In the shadow of that +strange cloud the leaves drooped in the trees, the birds ceased their +calling, and the cattle and the sheep gathered cowering under the +hedges. A gloom fell upon all the land, and men stood with their eyes +upon the strange cloud and a heaviness upon their hearts. They crept +into the churches where the trembling people were blessed and shriven by +the trembling priests. Outside no bird flew, and there came no rustling +from the woods, nor any of the homely sounds of Nature. All was still, +and nothing moved, save only the great cloud which rolled up and onward, +with fold on fold from the black horizon. To the west was the light +summer sky, to the east this brooding cloud-bank, creeping ever slowly +across, until the last thin blue gleam faded away and the whole vast +sweep of the heavens was one great leaden arch. + +Then the rain began to fall. All day it rained, and all the night +and all the week and all the month, until folk had forgotten the blue +heavens and the gleam of the sunshine. It was not heavy, but it was +steady and cold and unceasing, so that the people were weary of its +hissing and its splashing, with the slow drip from the eaves. Always the +same thick evil cloud flowed from east to west with the rain beneath +it. None could see for more than a bow-shot from their dwellings for the +drifting veil of the rain-storms. Every morning the folk looked upward +for a break, but their eyes rested always upon the same endless cloud, +until at last they ceased to look up, and their hearts despaired of +ever seeing the change. It was raining at Lammas-tide and raining at the +Feast of the Assumption and still raining at Michaelmas. The crops and +the hay, sodden and black, had rotted in the fields, for they were not +worth the garnering. The sheep had died, and the calves also, so there +was little to kill when Martinmas came and it was time to salt the meat +for the winter. They feared a famine, but it was worse than famine which +was in store for them. + +For the rain had ceased at last, and a sickly autumn sun shone upon +a land which was soaked and sodden with water. Wet and rotten leaves +reeked and festered under the foul haze which rose from the woods. +The fields were spotted with monstrous fungi of a size and color never +matched before--scarlet and mauve and liver and black. It was as though +the sick earth had burst into foul pustules; mildew and lichen mottled +the walls, and with that filthy crop Death sprang also from the +water-soaked earth. Men died, and women and children, the baron of the +castle, the franklin on the farm, the monk in the abbey and the villein +in his wattle-and-daub cottage. All breathed the same polluted reek and +all died the same death of corruption. Of those who were stricken none +recovered, and the illness was ever the same--gross boils, raving, and +the black blotches which gave its name to the disease. All through the +winter the dead rotted by the wayside for want of some one to bury them. +In many a village no single man was left alive. Then at last the spring +came with sunshine and health and lightness and laughter--the greenest, +sweetest, tenderest spring that England had ever known--but only half +of England could know it. The other half had passed away with the great +purple cloud. + +Yet it was there in that stream of death, in that reek of corruption, +that the brighter and freer England was born. There in that dark hour +the first streak of the new dawn was seen. For in no way save by a great +upheaval and change could the nation break away from that iron feudal +system which held her limbs. But now it was a new country which came out +from that year of death. The barons were dead in swaths. No high turret +nor cunning moat could keep out that black commoner who struck them +down. + +Oppressive laws slackened for want of those who could enforce them, and +once slackened could never be enforced again. The laborer would be a +slave no longer. The bondsman snapped his shackles. There was much to do +and few left to do it. Therefore the few should be freemen, name their +own price, and work where and for whom they would. It was the black +death which cleared the way for that great rising thirty years later +which left the English peasant the freest of his class in Europe. + +But there were few so far-sighted that they could see that here, as +ever, good was coming out of evil. At the moment misery and ruin were +brought into every family. The dead cattle, the ungarnered crops, the +untilled lands--every spring of wealth had dried up at the same moment. +Those who were rich became poor; but those who were poor already, and +especially those who were poor with the burden of gentility upon their +shoulders, found themselves in a perilous state. All through England +the smaller gentry were ruined, for they had no trade save war, and they +drew their living from the work of others. On many a manor-house there +came evil times, and on none more than on the Manor of Tilford, where +for many generations the noble family of the Lorings had held their +home. + +There was a time when the Lorings had held the country from the North +Downs to the Lakes of Frensham, and when their grim castle-keep +rising above the green meadows which border the River Wey had been the +strongest fortalice betwixt Guildford Castle in the east and Winchester +in the west. But there came that Barons' War, in which the King used his +Saxon subjects as a whip with which to scourge his Norman barons, and +Castle Loring, like so many other great strongholds, was swept from +the face of the land. From that time the Lorings, with estates sadly +curtailed, lived in what had been the dower-house, with enough for +splendor. + +And then came their lawsuit with Waverley Abbey, and the Cistercians +laid claim to their richest land, with peccary, turbary and feudal +rights over the remainder. It lingered on for years, this great lawsuit, +and when it was finished the men of the Church and the men of the Law +had divided all that was richest of the estate between them. There was +still left the old manor-house from which with each generation there +came a soldier to uphold the credit of the name and to show the five +scarlet roses on the silver shield where it had always been shown--in +the van. There were twelve bronzes in the little chapel where Matthew +the priest said mass every morning, all of men of the house of Loring. +Two lay with their legs crossed, as being from the Crusades. Six others +rested their feet upon lions, as having died in war. Four only lay with +the effigy of their hounds to show that they had passed in peace. + +Of this famous but impoverished family, doubly impoverished by law and +by pestilence, two members were living in the year of grace 1349--Lady +Ermyntrude Loring and her grandson Nigel. Lady Ermyntrude's husband had +fallen before the Scottish spearsmen at Stirling, and her son Eustace, +Nigel's father, had found a glorious death nine years before this +chronicle opens upon the poop of a Norman galley at the sea-fight of +Sluys. The lonely old woman, fierce and brooding like the falcon mewed +in her chamber, was soft only toward the lad whom she had brought up. +All the tenderness and love of her nature, so hidden from others that +they could not imagine their existence, were lavished upon him. +She could not bear him away from her, and he, with that respect for +authority which the age demanded, would not go without her blessing and +consent. + +So it came about that Nigel, with his lion heart and with the blood of +a hundred soldiers thrilling in his veins, still at the age of two and +twenty, wasted the weary days reclaiming his hawks with leash and lure +or training the alans and spaniels who shared with the family the big +earthen-floored hall of the manor-house. + +Day by day the aged Lady Ermyntrude had seen him wax in strength and in +manhood, small of stature, it is true, but with muscles of steel--and a +soul of fire. From all parts, from the warden of Guildford Castle, from +the tilt-yard of Farnham, tales of his prowess were brought back to her, +of his daring as a rider, of his debonair courage, of his skill with all +weapons; but still she, who had both husband and son torn from her by +a bloody death, could not bear that this, the last of the Lorings, the +final bud of so famous an old tree, should share the same fate. With a +weary heart, but with a smiling face, he bore with his uneventful days, +while she would ever put off the evil time until the harvest was better, +until the monks of Waverley should give up what they had taken, until +his uncle should die and leave money for his outfit, or any other excuse +with which she could hold him to her side. + +And indeed, there was need for a man at Tilford, for the strife betwixt +the Abbey and the manor-house had never been appeased, and still on one +pretext or another the monks would clip off yet one more slice of their +neighbor's land. Over the winding river, across the green meadows, rose +the short square tower and the high gray walls of the grim Abbey, with +its bell tolling by day and night, a voice of menace and of dread to the +little household. + +It is in the heart of the great Cistercian monastery that this chronicle +of old days must take its start, as we trace the feud betwixt the monks +and the house of Loring, with those events to which it gave birth, +ending with the coming of Chandos, the strange spear-running of Tilford +Bridge and the deeds with which Nigel won fame in the wars. Elsewhere, +in the chronicle of the White Company, it has been set forth what manner +of man was Nigel Loring. Those who love him may read herein those things +which went to his making. Let us go back together and gaze upon this +green stage of England, the scenery, hill, plain and river even as now, +the actors in much our very selves, in much also so changed in thought +and act that they might be dwellers in another world to ours. + + + + +II. HOW THE DEVIL CAME TO WAVERLEY + + +The day was the first of May, which was the Festival of the Blessed +Apostles Philip and James. The year was the 1,349th from man's +salvation. + +From tierce to sext, and then again from sext to nones, Abbot John of +the House of Waverley had been seated in his study while he conducted +the many high duties of his office. All around for many a mile on every +side stretched the fertile and flourishing estate of which he was the +master. In the center lay the broad Abbey buildings, with church and +cloisters, hospitium, chapter-house and frater-house, all buzzing with a +busy life. Through the open window came the low hum of the voices of the +brethren as they walked in pious converse in the ambulatory below. +From across the cloister there rolled the distant rise and fall of a +Gregorian chant, where the precentor was hard at work upon the choir, +while down in the chapter-house sounded the strident voice of Brother +Peter, expounding the rule of Saint Bernard to the novices. + +Abbot John rose to stretch his cramped limbs. He looked out at the +greensward of the cloister, and at the graceful line of open Gothic +arches which skirted a covered walk for the brethren within. Two and two +in their black-and-white garb with slow step and heads inclined, they +paced round and round. Several of the more studious had brought their +illuminating work from the scriptorium, and sat in the warm sunshine +with their little platters of pigments and packets of gold-leaf before +them, their shoulders rounded and their faces sunk low over the white +sheets of vellum. There too was the copper-worker with his burin and +graver. Learning and art were not traditions with the Cistercians +as with the parent Order of the Benedictines, and yet the library +of Waverley was well filled both with precious books and with pious +students. + +But the true glory of the Cistercian lay in his outdoor work, and so +ever and anon there passed through the cloister some sunburned monk, +soiled mattock or shovel in hand, with his gown looped to his knee, +fresh from the fields or the garden. The lush green water-meadows +speckled with the heavy-fleeced sheep, the acres of corn-land reclaimed +from heather and bracken, the vineyards on the southern slope of +Crooksbury Hill, the rows of Hankley fish-ponds, the Frensham marshes +drained and sown with vegetables, the spacious pigeon-cotes, all circled +the great Abbey round with the visible labors of the Order. + +The Abbot's full and florid face shone with a quiet content as he +looked out at his huge but well-ordered household. Like every head of +a prosperous Abbey, Abbot John, the fourth of the name, was a man of +various accomplishments. Through his own chosen instruments he had to +minister a great estate and to keep order and decorum among a large body +of men living a celibate life. He was a rigid disciplinarian toward all +beneath him, a supple diplomatist to all above. He held high debate with +neighboring abbots and lords, with bishops, with papal legates, and even +on occasion with the King's majesty himself. Many were the subjects +with which he must be conversant. Questions of doctrine, questions of +building, points of forestry, of agriculture, of drainage, of feudal +law, all came to the Abbot for settlement. He held the scales of justice +in all the Abbey banlieue which stretched over many a mile of Hampshire +and of Surrey. To the monks his displeasure might mean fasting, exile to +some sterner community, or even imprisonment in chains. Over the layman +also he could hold any punishment save only corporeal death, instead +of which he had in hand the far more dreadful weapon of spiritual +excommunication. + +Such were the powers of the Abbot, and it is no wonder that there +were masterful lines in the ruddy features of Abbot John, or that the +brethren, glancing up, should put on an even meeker carriage and more +demure expression as they saw the watchful face in the window above +them. + +A knock at the door of his studio recalled the Abbot to his immediate +duties, and he returned to his desk. Already he had spoken with his +cellarer and prior, almoner, chaplain and lector, but now in the tall +and gaunt monk who obeyed his summons to enter he recognized the most +important and also the most importunate of his agents, Brother Samuel +the sacrist, whose office, corresponding to that of the layman's +bailiff, placed the material interests of the monastery and its dealings +with the outer world entirely under his control, subject only to the +check of the Abbot. Brother Samuel was a gnarled and stringy old monk +whose stern and sharp-featured face reflected no light from above but +only that sordid workaday world toward which it was forever turned. A +huge book of accounts was tucked under one of his arms, while a great +bunch of keys hung from the other hand, a badge of his office, and also +on occasion of impatience a weapon of offense, as many a scarred head +among rustics and lay brothers could testify. + +The Abbot sighed wearily, for he suffered much at the hands of his +strenuous agent. "Well, Brother Samuel, what is your will?" he asked. + +"Holy father, I have to report that I have sold the wool to Master +Baldwin of Winchester at two shillings a bale more than it fetched last +year, for the murrain among the sheep has raised the price." + +"You have done well, brother." + +"I have also to tell you that I have distrained Wat the warrener from +his cottage, for his Christmas rent is still unpaid, nor the hen-rents +of last year." + +"He has a wife and four children, brother." He was a good, easy man, the +Abbot, though liable to be overborne by his sterner subordinate. + +"It is true, holy father; but if I should pass him, then how am I to +ask the rent of the foresters of Puttenham, or the hinds in the village? +Such a thing spreads from house to house, and where then is the wealth +of Waverley?" + +"What else, Brother Samuel?" + +"There is the matter of the fish-ponds." + +The Abbot's face brightened. It was a subject upon which he was an +authority. If the rule of his Order had robbed him of the softer joys of +life, he had the keener zest for those which remained. + +"How have the char prospered, brother?" + +"They have done well, holy father, but the carp have died in the Abbot's +pond." + +"Carp prosper only upon a gravel bottom. They must be put in also in +their due proportion, three milters to one spawner, brother sacrist, +and the spot must be free from wind, stony and sandy, an ell deep, with +willows and grass upon the banks. Mud for tench, brother, gravel for +carp." + +The sacrist leaned forward with the face of one who bears tidings of +woe. "There are pike in the Abbot's pond," said he. + +"Pike!" cried the Abbot in horror. "As well shut up a wolf in our +sheepfold. How came a pike in the pond? There were no pike last year, +and a pike does not fall with the rain nor rise in the springs. The pond +must be drained, or we shall spend next Lent upon stockfish, and have +the brethren down with the great sickness ere Easter Sunday has come to +absolve us from our abstinence." + +"The pond shall be drained, holy father; I have already ordered it. Then +we shall plant pot-herbs on the mud bottom, and after we have gathered +them in, return the fish and water once more from the lower pond, so +that they may fatten among the rich stubble." + +"Good!" cried the Abbot. "I would have three fish-stews in every +well-ordered house--one dry for herbs, one shallow for the fry and the +yearlings, and one deep for the breeders and the tablefish. But still, I +have not heard you say how the pike came in the Abbot's pond." + +A spasm of anger passed over the fierce face of the sacrist, and his +keys rattled as his bony hand clasped them more tightly. "Young Nigel +Loring!" said he. "He swore that he would do us scathe, and in this way +he has done it." + +"How know you this?" + +"Six weeks ago he was seen day by day fishing for pike at the great Lake +of Frensham. Twice at night he has been met with a bundle of straw under +his arm on the Hankley Down. Well, I wot that the straw was wet and that +a live pike lay within it." + +The Abbot shook his head. "I have heard much of this youth's wild ways; +but now indeed he has passed all bounds if what you say be truth. It +was bad enough when it was said that he slew the King's deer in Woolmer +Chase, or broke the head of Hobbs the chapman, so that he lay for seven +days betwixt life and death in our infirmary, saved only by Brother +Peter's skill in the pharmacies of herbs; but to put pike in the Abbot's +pond--why should he play such a devil's prank?" + +"Because he hates the House of Waverley, holy father; because he swears +that we hold his father's land." + +"In which there is surely some truth." + +"But, holy father, we hold no more than the law has allowed." + +"True, brother, and yet between ourselves, we may admit that the heavier +purse may weigh down the scales of Justice. When I have passed the old +house and have seen that aged woman with her ruddled cheeks and her +baleful eyes look the curses she dare not speak, I have many a time +wished that we had other neighbors." + +"That we can soon bring about, holy father. Indeed, it is of it that I +wished to speak to you. Surely it is not hard for us to drive them from +the country-side. There are thirty years' claims of escuage unsettled, +and there is Sergeant Wilkins, the lawyer of Guildford, whom I will +warrant to draw up such arrears of dues and rents and issues of hidage +and fodder-corn that these folk, who are as beggarly as they are proud, +will have to sell the roof-tree over them ere they can meet them. Within +three days I will have them at our mercy." + +"They are an ancient family and of good repute. I would not treat them +too harshly, brother." + +"Bethink you of the pike in the carp pond!" + +The Abbot hardened his heart at the thought. "It was indeed a devil's +deed--when we had but newly stocked it with char and with carp. Well, +well, the law is the law, and if you can use it to hurt, it is still +lawful to do so. Have these claims been advanced?" + +"Deacon the bailiff with his two varlets went down to the Hall +yesternight on the matter of the escuage, and came screaming back with +this young hothead raging at their heels. He is small and slight, yet +he has the strength of many men in the hour of his wrath. The bailiff +swears that he will go no more, save with half a score of archers to +uphold him." + +The Abbot was red with anger at this new offense. "I will teach him that +the servants of Holy Church, even though we of the rule of Saint Bernard +be the lowliest and humblest of her children, can still defend their own +against the froward and the violent! Go, cite this man before the Abbey +court. Let him appear in the chapter-house after tierce to-morrow." + +But the wary sacrist shook his head: "Nay, holy father, the times are +not yet ripe. Give me three days, I pray you, that my case against him +may be complete. Bear in mind that the father and the grandfather of +this unruly squire were both famous men of their day and the foremost +knights in the King's own service, living in high honor and dying in +their knightly duty. The Lady Ermyntrude Loring was first lady to +the King's mother. Roger FitzAlan of Farnham and Sir Hugh Walcott of +Guildford Castle were each old comrades-in-arms of Nigel's father, and +sib to him on the distaff side. Already there has been talk that we have +dealt harshly with them. Therefore, my rede is that we be wise and wary +and wait until his cup be indeed full." + +The Abbot had opened his mouth to reply, when the consultation was +interrupted by a most unwonted buzz of excitement from among the monks +in the cloister below. Questions and answers in excited voices sounded +from one side of the ambulatory to the other. Sacrist and Abbot were +gazing at each other in amazement at such a breach of the discipline and +decorum of their well-trained flock, when there came a swift step upon +the stair, and a white-faced brother flung open the door and rushed into +the room. + +"Father Abbot!" he cried. "Alas, alas! Brother John is dead, and the +holy subprior is dead, and the Devil is loose in the five-virgate +field!" + + + + +III. THE YELLOW HORSE OF CROOKSBURY + + +In those simple times there was a great wonder and mystery in life. Man +walked in fear and solemnity, with Heaven very close above his head, +and Hell below his very feet. God's visible hand was everywhere, in the +rainbow and the comet, in the thunder and the wind. The Devil too raged +openly upon the earth; he skulked behind the hedge-rows in the gloaming; +he laughed loudly in the night-time; he clawed the dying sinner, pounced +on the unbaptized babe, and twisted the limbs of the epileptic. A foul +fiend slunk ever by a man's side and whispered villainies in his ear, +while above him there hovered an angel of grace who pointed to the steep +and narrow track. How could one doubt these things, when Pope and priest +and scholar and King were all united in believing them, with no single +voice of question in the whole wide world? + +Every book read, every picture seen, every tale heard from nurse or +mother, all taught the same lesson. And as a man traveled through the +world his faith would grow the firmer, for go where he would there +were the endless shrines of the saints, each with its holy relic in the +center, and around it the tradition of incessant miracles, with stacks +of deserted crutches and silver votive hearts to prove them. At every +turn he was made to feel how thin was the veil, and how easily rent, +which screened him from the awful denizens of the unseen world. + +Hence the wild announcement of the frightened monk seemed terrible +rather than incredible to those whom he addressed. The Abbot's ruddy +face paled for a moment, it is true, but he plucked the crucifix from +his desk and rose valiantly to his feet. + +"Lead me to him!" said he. "Show me the foul fiend who dares to lay his +grip upon brethren of the holy house of Saint Bernard! Run down to my +chaplain, brother! Bid him bring the exorcist with him, and also the +blessed box of relics, and the bones of Saint James from under the +altar! With these and a contrite and humble heart we may show front to +all the powers of darkness." + +But the sacrist was of a more critical turn of mind. He clutched the +monk's arm with a grip which left its five purple spots for many a day +to come. + +"Is this the way to enter the Abbot's own chamber, without knock or +reverence, or so much as a 'Pax vobiscum'?" said he sternly. "You were +wont to be our gentlest novice, of lowly carriage in chapter, devout in +psalmody and strict in the cloister. Pull your wits together and answer +me straightly. In what form has the foul fiend appeared, and how has he +done this grievous scathe to our brethren? Have you seen him with your +own eyes, or do you repeat from hearsay? Speak, man, or you stand on the +penance-stool in the chapter-house this very hour!" + +Thus adjured, the frightened monk grew calmer in his bearing, though his +white lips and his startled eyes, with the gasping of his breath, told +of his inward tremors. + +"If it please you, holy father, and you, reverend sacrist, it came about +in this way. James the subprior, and Brother John and I had spent our +day from sext onward on Hankley, cutting bracken for the cow-houses. We +were coming back over the five-virgate field, and the holy subprior was +telling us a saintly tale from the life of Saint Gregory, when there +came a sudden sound like a rushing torrent, and the foul fiend sprang +over the high wall which skirts the water-meadow and rushed upon us +with the speed of the wind. The lay brother he struck to the ground and +trampled into the mire. Then, seizing the good subprior in his teeth, he +rushed round the field, swinging him as though he were a fardel of old +clothes. + +"Amazed at such a sight, I stood without movement and had said a credo +and three aves, when the Devil dropped the subprior and sprang upon me. +With the help of Saint Bernard I clambered over the wall, but not before +his teeth had found my leg, and he had torn away the whole back skirt of +my gown." As he spoke he turned and gave corroboration to his story by +the hanging ruins of his long trailing garment. + +"In what shape then did Satan appear?" the Abbot demanded. + +"As a great yellow horse, holy father--a monster horse, with eyes of +fire and the teeth of a griffin." + +"A yellow horse!" The sacrist glared at the scared monk. "You foolish +brother! How will you behave when you have indeed to face the King of +Terrors himself if you can be so frightened by the sight of a yellow +horse? It is the horse of Franklin Aylward, my father, which has been +distrained by us because he owes the Abbey fifty good shillings and can +never hope to pay it. Such a horse, they say, is not to be found betwixt +this and the King's stables at Windsor, for his sire was a Spanish +destrier, and his dam an Arab mare of the very breed which Saladin, +whose soul now reeks in Hell, kept for his own use, and even it has been +said under the shelter of his own tent. I took him in discharge of the +debt, and I ordered the varlets who had haltered him to leave him alone +in the water-meadow, for I have heard that the beast has indeed a most +evil spirit, and has killed more men than one." + +"It was an ill day for Waverley that you brought such a monster within +its bounds," said the Abbot. "If the subprior and Brother John be indeed +dead, then it would seem that if the horse be not the Devil he is at +least the Devil's instrument." + +"Horse or Devil, holy father, I heard him shout with joy as he trampled +upon Brother John, and had you seen him tossing the subprior as a dog +shakes a rat you would perchance have felt even as I did." + +"Come then," cried the Abbot, "let us see with our own eyes what evil +has been done." + +And the three monks hurried down the stair which led to the cloisters. + +They had no sooner descended than their more pressing fears were set at +rest, for at that very moment, limping, disheveled and mud-stained, the +two sufferers were being led in amid a crowd of sympathizing brethren. +Shouts and cries from outside showed, however, that some further drama +was in progress, and both Abbot and sacrist hastened onward as fast +as the dignity of their office would permit, until they had passed the +gates and gained the wall of the meadow. Looking over it, a remarkable +sight presented itself to their eyes. + +Fetlock deep in the lush grass there stood a magnificent horse, such a +horse as a sculptor or a soldier might thrill to see. His color was a +light chestnut, with mane and tail of a more tawny tint. Seventeen hands +high, with a barrel and haunches which bespoke tremendous strength, he +fined down to the most delicate lines of dainty breed in neck and crest +and shoulder. He was indeed a glorious sight as he stood there, his +beautiful body leaning back from his wide-spread and propped fore +legs, his head craned high, his ears erect, his mane bristling, his red +nostrils opening and shutting with wrath, and his flashing eyes turning +from side to side in haughty menace and defiance. + +Scattered round in a respectful circle, six of the Abbey lay servants +and foresters, each holding a halter, were creeping toward him. Every +now and then, with a beautiful toss and swerve and plunge, the +great creature would turn upon one of his would-be captors, and with +outstretched head, flying mane and flashing teeth, would chase him +screaming to the safety of the wall, while the others would close +swiftly in behind and cast their ropes in the hope of catching neck or +leg, but only in their turn to be chased to the nearest refuge. + +Had two of these ropes settled upon the horse, and had their throwers +found some purchase of stump or boulder by which they could hold them, +then the man's brain might have won its wonted victory over swiftness +and strength. But the brains were themselves at fault which imagined +that one such rope would serve any purpose save to endanger the thrower. + +Yet so it was, and what might have been foreseen occurred at the very +moment of the arrival of the monks. The horse, having chased one of his +enemies to the wall, remained so long snorting his contempt over the +coping that the others were able to creep upon him from behind. Several +ropes were flung, and one noose settled over the proud crest and lost +itself in the waving mane. In an instant the creature had turned and the +men were flying for their lives; but he who had cast the rope lingered, +uncertain what use to make of his own success. That moment of doubt was +fatal. With a yell of dismay, the man saw the great creature rear above +him. Then with a crash the fore feet fell upon him and dashed him to +the ground. He rose screaming, was hurled over once more, and lay a +quivering, bleeding heap, while the savage horse, the most cruel and +terrible in its anger of all creatures on earth, bit and shook and +trampled the writhing body. + +A loud wail of horror rose from the lines of tonsured heads which +skirted the high wall--a wail which suddenly died away into a long +hushed silence, broken at last by a rapturous cry of thanksgiving and of +joy. + +On the road which led to the old dark manor-house upon the side of +the hill a youth had been riding. His mount was a sorry one, a weedy, +shambling, long-haired colt, and his patched tunic of faded purple with +stained leather belt presented no very smart appearance; yet in the +bearing of the man, in the poise of his head, in his easy graceful +carriage, and in the bold glance of his large blue eyes, there was that +stamp of distinction and of breed which would have given him a place +of his own in any assembly. He was of small stature, but his frame +was singularly elegant and graceful. His face, though tanned with +the weather, was delicate in features and most eager and alert in +expression. A thick fringe of crisp yellow curls broke from under the +dark flat cap which he was wearing, and a short golden beard hid the +outline of his strong square chin. One white osprey feather thrust +through a gold brooch in the front of his cap gave a touch of grace to +his somber garb. This and other points of his attire, the short hanging +mantle, the leather-sheathed hunting-knife, the cross belt which +sustained a brazen horn, the soft doe-skin boots and the prick spurs, +would all disclose themselves to an observer; but at the first glance +the brown face set in gold and the dancing light of the quick, reckless, +laughing eyes, were the one strong memory left behind. + +Such was the youth who, cracking his whip joyously, and followed by half +a score of dogs, cantered on his rude pony down the Tilford Lane, and +thence it was that with a smile of amused contempt upon his face +he observed the comedy in the field and the impotent efforts of the +servants of Waverley. + +Suddenly, however, as the comedy turned swiftly to black tragedy, this +passive spectator leaped into quick strenuous life. With a spring he +was off his pony, and with another he was over the stone wall and flying +swiftly across the field. Looking up from his victim, the great yellow +horse saw this other enemy approach, and spurning the prostrate, but +still writhing body with its heels, dashed at the newcomer. + +But this time there was no hasty flight, no rapturous pursuit to the +wall. The little man braced himself straight, flung up his metal-headed +whip, and met the horse with a crashing blow upon the head, repeated +again and again with every attack. In vain the horse reared and tried +to overthrow its enemy with swooping shoulders and pawing hoofs. Cool, +swift and alert, the man sprang swiftly aside from under the very shadow +of death, and then again came the swish and thud of the unerring blow +from the heavy handle. + +The horse drew off, glared with wonder and fury at this masterful man, +and then trotted round in a circle, with mane bristling, tail streaming +and ears on end, snorting in its rage and pain. The man, hardly deigning +to glance at his fell neighbor, passed on to the wounded forester, +raised him in his arms with a strength which could not have been +expected in so slight a body, and carried him, groaning, to the wall, +where a dozen hands were outstretched to help him over. Then, at his +leisure, the young man also climbed the wall, smiling back with cool +contempt at the yellow horse, which had come raging after him once more. + +As he sprang down, a dozen monks surrounded him to thank him or to +praise him; but he would have turned sullenly away without a word had he +not been stopped by Abbot John in person. + +"Nay, Squire Loring," said he, "if you be a bad friend to our Abbey, yet +we must needs own that you have played the part of a good Christian this +day, for if there is breath left in our servant's body it is to you next +to our blessed patron Saint Bernard that we owe it." + +"By Saint Paul! I owe you no good-will, Abbot John," said the young man. +"The shadow of your Abbey has ever fallen across the house of Loring. As +to any small deed that I may have done this day, I ask no thanks for +it. It is not for you nor for your house that I have done it, but only +because it was my pleasure so to do." + +The Abbot flushed at the bold words, and bit his lip with vexation. + +It was the sacrist, however, who answered: "It would be more fitting and +more gracious," said he, "if you were to speak to the holy Father Abbot +in a manner suited to his high rank and to the respect which is due to a +Prince of the Church." + +The youth turned his bold blue eyes upon the monk, and his sunburned +face darkened with anger. "Were it not for the gown upon your back, and +for your silvering hair, I would answer you in another fashion," said +he. "You are the lean wolf which growls ever at our door, greedy for the +little which hath been left to us. Say and do what you will with me, but +by Saint Paul! if I find that Dame Ermyntrude is baited by your ravenous +pack I will beat them off with this whip from the little patch which +still remains of all the acres of my fathers." + +"Have a care, Nigel Loring, have a care!" cried the Abbot, with finger +upraised. "Have you no fears of the law of England?" + +"A just law I fear and obey." + +"Have you no respect for Holy Church?" + +"I respect all that is holy in her. I do not respect those who grind the +poor or steal their neighbor's land." + +"Rash man, many a one has been blighted by her ban for less than you +have now said! And yet it is not for us to judge you harshly this day. +You are young and hot words come easily to your lips. How fares the +forester?" + +"His hurt is grievous, Father Abbot, but he will live," said a brother, +looking up from the prostrate form. "With a blood-letting and an +electuary, I will warrant him sound within a month." + +"Then bear him to the hospital. And now, brother, about this terrible +beast who still gazes and snorts at us over the top of the wall as +though his thoughts of Holy Church were as uncouth as those of Squire +Nigel himself, what are we to do with him?" + +"Here is Franklin Aylward," said one of the brethren. "The horse was +his, and doubtless he will take it back to his farm." + +But the stout red-faced farmer shook his head at the proposal. "Not I, +in faith!" said he. "The beast hath chased me twice round the paddock; +it has nigh slain my boy Samkin. He would never be happy till he had +ridden it, nor has he ever been happy since. There is not a hind in my +employ who will enter his stall. Ill fare the day that ever I took the +beast from the Castle stud at Guildford, where they could do nothing +with it and no rider could be found bold enough to mount it! When the +sacrist here took it for a fifty-shilling debt he made his own bargain +and must abide by it. He comes no more to the Crooksbury farm." + +"And he stays no more here," said the Abbot. "Brother sacrist, you have +raised the Devil, and it is for you to lay it again." + +"That I will most readily," cried the sacrist. "The pittance-master can +stop the fifty shillings from my very own weekly dole, and so the Abbey +be none the poorer. In the meantime here is Wat with his arbalist and +a bolt in his girdle. Let him drive it to the head through this cursed +creature, for his hide and his hoofs are of more value than his wicked +self." + +A hard brown old woodman who had been shooting vermin in the Abbey +groves stepped forward with a grin of pleasure. After a lifetime of +stoats and foxes, this was indeed a noble quarry which was to fall +before him. Fitting a bolt on the nut of his taut crossbow, he +had raised it to his shoulder and leveled it at the fierce, proud, +disheveled head which tossed in savage freedom at the other side of +the wall. His finger was crooked on the spring, when a blow from a whip +struck the bow upward and the bolt flew harmless over the Abbey orchard, +while the woodman shrank abashed from Nigel Loring's angry eyes. + +"Keep your bolts for your weasels!" said he. "Would you take life from a +creature whose only fault is that its spirit is so high that it has +met none yet who dare control it? You would slay such a horse as a king +might be proud to mount, and all because a country franklin, or a monk, +or a monk's varlet, has not the wit nor the hands to master him?" + +The sacrist turned swiftly on the Squire. "The Abbey owes you an +offering for this day's work, however rude your words may be," said he. +"If you think so much of the horse, you may desire to own it. If I am to +pay for it, then with the holy Abbot's permission it is in my gift and I +bestow it freely upon you." + +The Abbot plucked at his subordinate's sleeve. "Bethink you, brother +sacrist," he whispered, "shall we not have this man's blood upon our +heads?" + +"His pride is as stubborn as the horse's, holy father," the sacrist +answered, his gaunt fact breaking into a malicious smile. "Man or beast, +one will break the other and the world will be the better for it. If you +forbid me--" + +"Nay, brother, you have bought the horse, and you may have the bestowal +of it." + +"Then I give it--hide and hoofs, tail and temper--to Nigel Loring, and +may it be as sweet and as gentle to him as he hath been to the Abbot of +Waverley!" + +The sacrist spoke aloud amid the tittering of the monks, for the man +concerned was out of earshot. At the first words which had shown him the +turn which affairs had taken he had run swiftly to the spot where he had +left his pony. From its mouth he removed the bit and the stout bridle +which held it. Then leaving the creature to nibble the grass by the +wayside he sped back whence he came. + +"I take your gift, monk," said he, "though I know well why it is that +you give it. Yet I thank you, for there are two things upon earth for +which I have ever yearned, and which my thin purse could never buy. +The one is a noble horse, such a horse as my father's son should have +betwixt his thighs, and here is the one of all others which I would have +chosen, since some small deed is to be done in the winning of him, and +some honorable advancement to be gained. How is the horse called?" + +"Its name," said the franklin, "is Pommers. I warn you, young sir, that +none may ride him, for many have tried, and the luckiest is he who has +only a staved rib to show for it." + +"I thank you for your rede," said Nigel, "and now I see that this +is indeed a horse which I would journey far to meet. I am your man, +Pommers, and you are my horse, and this night you shall own it or I will +never need horse again. My spirit against thine, and God hold thy spirit +high, Pommers, so that the greater be the adventure, and the more hope +of honor gained!" + +While he spoke the young Squire had climbed on to the top of the +wall and stood there balanced, the very image of grace and spirit and +gallantry, his bridle hanging from one hand and his whip grasped in the +other. With a fierce snort, the horse made for him instantly, and his +white teeth flashed as he snapped; but again a heavy blow from the +loaded whip caused him to swerve, and even at the instant of the swerve, +measuring the distance with steady eyes, and bending his supple body for +the spring, Nigel bounded into the air and fell with his legs astride +the broad back of the yellow horse. For a minute, with neither saddle +nor stirrups to help him, and the beast ramping and rearing like a mad +thing beneath him, he was hard pressed to hold his own. His legs were +like two bands of steel welded on to the swelling arches of the great +horse's ribs, and his left hand was buried deep in the tawny mane. + +Never had the dull round of the lives of the gentle brethren of Waverley +been broken by so fiery a scene. Springing to right and swooping to +left, now with its tangled wicked head betwixt its forefeet, and now +pawing eight feet high in the air, with scarlet, furious nostrils and +maddened eyes, the yellow horse was a thing of terror and of beauty. But +the lithe figure on his back, bending like a reed in the wind to every +movement, firm below, pliant above, with calm inexorable face, and +eyes which danced and gleamed with the joy of contest, still held its +masterful place for all that the fiery heart and the iron muscles of the +great beast could do. + +Once a long drone of dismay rose from the monks, as rearing higher and +higher yet a last mad effort sent the creature toppling over backward +upon its rider. But, swift and cool, he had writhed from under it ere +it fell, spurned it with his foot as it rolled upon the earth, and then +seizing its mane as it rose swung himself lightly on to its back once +more. Even the grim sacrist could not but join the cheer, as Pommers, +amazed to find the rider still upon his back, plunged and curveted down +the field. + +But the wild horse only swelled into a greater fury. In the sullen gloom +of its untamed heart there rose the furious resolve to dash the life +from this clinging rider, even if it meant destruction to beast and man. +With red, blazing eyes it looked round for death. On three sides the +five-virgate field was bounded by a high wall, broken only at one spot +by a heavy four-foot wooden gate. But on the fourth side was a low +gray building, one of the granges of the Abbey, presenting a long flank +unbroken by door or window. The horse stretched itself into a gallop, +and headed straight for that craggy thirty-foot wall. He would break in +red ruin at the base of it if he could but dash forever the life of this +man, who claimed mastery over that which had never found its master yet. + +The great haunches gathered under it, the eager hoofs drummed the grass, +as faster and still more fast the frantic horse bore himself and his +rider toward the wall. Would Nigel spring off? To do so would be to bend +his will to that of the beast beneath him. There was a better way than +that. Cool, quick and decided, the man swiftly passed both whip and +bridle into the left hand which still held the mane. Then with the right +he slipped his short mantle from his shoulders and lying forward along +the creature's strenuous, rippling back he cast the flapping cloth over +the horse's eyes. + +The result was but too successful, for it nearly brought about the +downfall of the rider. When those red eyes straining for death were +suddenly shrouded in unexpected darkness the amazed horse propped on its +forefeet and came to so dead a stop that Nigel was shot forward on to +its neck and hardly held himself by his hair-entwined hand. Ere he had +slid back into position the moment of danger had passed, for the horse, +its purpose all blurred in its mind by this strange thing which had +befallen, wheeled round once more, trembling in every fiber, and tossing +its petulant head until at last the mantle had been slipped from its +eyes and the chilling darkness had melted into the homely circle of +sunlit grass once more. + +But what was this new outrage which had been inflicted upon it? What was +this defiling bar of iron which was locked hard against its mouth? What +were these straps which galled the tossing neck, this band which spanned +its chest? In those instants of stillness ere the mantle had been +plucked away Nigel had lain forward, had slipped the snaffle between the +champing teeth, and had deftly secured it. + +Blind, frantic fury surged in the yellow horse's heart once more at this +new degradation, this badge of serfdom and infamy. His spirit rose high +and menacing at the touch. He loathed this place, these people, all and +everything which threatened his freedom. He would have done with them +forever; he would see them no more. Let him away to the uttermost parts +of the earth, to the great plains where freedom is. Anywhere over +the far horizon where he could get away from the defiling bit and the +insufferable mastery of man. + +He turned with a rush, and one magnificent deer-like bound carried him +over the four-foot gate. Nigel's hat had flown off, and his yellow curls +streamed behind him as he rose and fell in the leap. They were in the +water-meadow now, and the rippling stream twenty feet wide gleamed in +front of them running down to the main current of the Wey. The yellow +horse gathered his haunches under him and flew over like an arrow. He +took off from behind a boulder and cleared a furze-bush on the farther +side. Two stones still mark the leap from hoof-mark to hoof-mark, and +they are eleven good paces apart. Under the hanging branch of the great +oak-tree on the farther side (that Quercus Tilfordiensis ordiensis is +still shown as the bound of the Abby's immediate precincts) the great +horse passed. He had hoped to sweep off his rider, but Nigel sank low +on the heaving back with his face buried in the flying mane. The rough +bough rasped him rudely, but never shook his spirit nor his grip. +Rearing, plunging and struggling, Pommers broke through the sapling +grove and was out on the broad stretch of Hankley Down. + +And now came such a ride as still lingers in the gossip of the lowly +country folk and forms the rude jingle of that old Surrey ballad, now +nearly forgotten, save for the refrain: + + The Doe that sped on Hinde Head, + The Kestril on the winde, + And Nigel on the Yellow Horse + Can leave the world behinde. + +Before them lay a rolling ocean of dark heather, knee-deep, swelling in +billow on billow up to the clear-cut hill before them. Above stretched +one unbroken arch of peaceful blue, with a sun which was sinking down +toward the Hampshire hills. Through the deep heather, down the gullies, +over the watercourses, up the broken slopes, Pommers flew, his great +heart bursting with rage, and every fiber quivering at the indignities +which he had endured. + +And still, do what he would, the man clung fast to his heaving sides and +to his flying mane, silent, motionless, inexorable, letting him do what +he would, but fixed as Fate upon his purpose. Over Hankley Down, through +Thursley Marsh, with the reeds up to his mud-splashed withers, onward up +the long slope of the Headland of the Hinds, down by the Nutcombe Gorge, +slipping, blundering, bounding, but never slackening his fearful speed, +on went the great yellow horse. The villagers of Shottermill heard the +wild clatter of hoofs, but ere they could swing the ox-hide curtains of +their cottage doors horse and rider were lost amid the high bracken of +the Haslemere Valley. On he went, and on, tossing the miles behind his +flying hoofs. No marsh-land could clog him, no hill could hold him back. +Up the slope of Linchmere and the long ascent of Fernhurst he thundered +as on the level, and it was not until he had flown down the incline of +Henley Hill, and the gray castle tower of Midhurst rose over the coppice +in front, that at last the eager outstretched neck sank a little on +the breast, and the breath came quick and fast. Look where he would in +woodland and on down, his straining eyes could catch no sign of those +plains of freedom which he sought. + +And yet another outrage! It was bad that this creature should +still cling so tight upon his back, but now he would even go to the +intolerable length of checking him and guiding him on the way that he +would have him go. There was a sharp pluck at his mouth, and his head +was turned north once more. As well go that way as another, but the man +was mad indeed if he thought that such a horse as Pommers was at the +end of his spirit or his strength. He would soon show him that he was +unconquered, if it strained his sinews or broke his heart to do so. Back +then he flew up the long, long ascent. Would he ever get to the end of +it? Yet he would not own that he could go no farther while the man still +kept his grip. He was white with foam and caked with mud. His eyes were +gorged with blood, his mouth open and gasping, his nostrils expanded, +his coat stark and reeking. On he flew down the long Sunday Hill until +he reached the deep Kingsley Marsh at the bottom. No, it was too much! +Flesh and blood could go no farther. As he struggled out from the reedy +slime with the heavy black mud still clinging to his fetlocks, he at +last eased down with sobbing breath and slowed the tumultuous gallop to +a canter. + +Oh, crowning infamy! Was there no limit to these degradations? He was no +longer even to choose his own pace. Since he had chosen to gallop so far +at his own will he must now gallop farther still at the will of another. +A spur struck home on either flank. A stinging whip-lash fell across his +shoulder. He bounded his own height in the air at the pain and the shame +of it. Then, forgetting his weary limbs, forgetting his panting, reeking +sides, forgetting everything save this intolerable insult and the +burning spirit within, he plunged off once more upon his furious gallop. +He was out on the heather slopes again and heading for Weydown Common. +On he flew and on. But again his brain failed him and again his limbs +trembled beneath him, and yet again he strove to ease his pace, only to +be driven onward by the cruel spur and the falling lash. He was blind +and giddy with fatigue. + +He saw no longer where he placed his feet, he cared no longer whither he +went, but his one mad longing was to get away from this dreadful thing, +this torture which clung to him and would not let him go. Through +Thursley village he passed, his eyes straining in his agony, his heart +bursting within him, and he had won his way to the crest of Thursley +Down, still stung forward by stab and blow, when his spirit weakened, +his giant strength ebbed out of him, and with one deep sob of agony the +yellow horse sank among the heather. So sudden was the fall that Nigel +flew forward over his shoulder, and beast and man lay prostrate and +gasping while the last red rim of the sun sank behind Butser and the +first stars gleamed in a violet sky. + +The young Squire was the first to recover, and kneeling by the panting, +overwrought horse he passed his hand gently over the tangled mane and +down the foam-flecked face. The red eye rolled up at him; but it was +wonder not hatred, a prayer and not a threat, which he could read in it. +As he stroked the reeking muzzle, the horse whinnied gently and thrust +his nose into the hollow of his hand. It was enough. It was the end of +the contest, the acceptance of new conditions by a chivalrous foe from a +chivalrous victor. + +"You are my horse, Pommers," Nigel whispered, and he laid his cheek +against the craning head. "I know you, Pommers, and you know me, and +with the help of Saint Paul we shall teach some other folk to know us +both. Now let us walk together as far as this moorland pond, for indeed +I wot not whether it is you or I who need the water most." + +And so it was that some belated monks of Waverley passing homeward from +the outer farms saw a strange sight which they carried on with them so +that it reached that very night the ears both of sacrist and of Abbot. +For, as they passed through Tilford they had seen horse and man walking +side by side and head by head up the manor-house lane. And when they +had raised their lanterns on the pair it was none other than the young +Squire himself who was leading home, as a shepherd leads a lamb, the +fearsome yellow horse of Crooksbury. + + + + +IV. HOW THE SUMMONER CAME TO THE MANOR HOUSE OF TILFORD + + +By the date of this chronicle the ascetic sternness of the old Norman +castles had been humanized and refined so that the new dwellings of the +nobility, if less imposing in appearance, were much more comfortable +as places of residence. A gentle race had built their houses rather for +peace than for war. He who compares the savage bareness of Pevensey or +Guildford with the piled grandeur of Bodmin or Windsor cannot fail to +understand the change in manners which they represent. + +The earlier castles had a set purpose, for they were built that the +invaders might hold down the country; but when the Conquest was once +firmly established a castle had lost its meaning save as a refuge from +justice or as a center for civil strife. On the marches of Wales and of +Scotland the castle might continue to be a bulwark to the kingdom, +and there still grew and flourished; but in all other places they were +rather a menace to the King's majesty, and as such were discouraged and +destroyed. By the reign of the third Edward the greater part of the old +fighting castles had been converted into dwelling-houses or had been +ruined in the civil wars, and left where their grim gray bones are still +littered upon the brows of our hills. The new buildings were either +great country-houses, capable of defense, but mainly residential, or +they were manor-houses with no military significance at all. + +Such was the Tilford Manor-house where the last survivors of the old and +magnificent house of Loring still struggled hard to keep a footing and +to hold off the monks and the lawyers from the few acres which were left +to them. The mansion was a two-storied one, framed in heavy beams of +wood, the interstices filled with rude blocks of stone. An outside +staircase led up to several sleeping-rooms above. Below there were only +two apartments, the smaller of which was the bower of the aged Lady +Ermyntrude. The other was the hall, a very large room, which served +as the living room of the family and as the common dining-room of +themselves and of their little group of servants and retainers. The +dwellings of these servants, the kitchens, the offices and the stables +were all represented by a row of penthouses and sheds behind the main +building. Here lived Charles the page, Peter the old falconer, Red Swire +who had followed Nigel's grandfather to the Scottish wars, Weathercote +the broken minstrel, John the cook, and other survivors of more +prosperous days, who still clung to the old house as the barnacles to +some wrecked and stranded vessel. + +One evening about a week after the breaking of the yellow horse, Nigel +and his grandmother sat on either side of the large empty fireplace in +this spacious apartment. The supper had been removed, and so had the +trestle tables upon which it had been served, so that the room seemed +bare and empty. The stone floor was strewed with a thick layer of green +rushes, which was swept out every Saturday and carried with it all the +dirt and debris of the week. Several dogs were now crouched among these +rushes, gnawing and cracking the bones which had been thrown from the +table. A long wooden buffet loaded with plates and dishes filled one +end of the room, but there was little other furniture save some benches +against the walls, two dorseret chairs, one small table littered with +chessmen, and a great iron coffer. In one corner was a high wickerwork +stand, and on it two stately falcons were perched, silent and +motionless, save for an occasional twinkle of their fierce yellow eyes. + +But if the actual fittings of the room would have appeared scanty to one +who had lived in a more luxurious age, he would have been surprised on +looking up to see the multitude of objects which were suspended above +his head. Over the fireplace were the coats-of-arms of a number +of houses allied by blood or by marriage to the Lorings. The two +cresset-lights which flared upon each side gleamed upon the blue lion of +the Percies, the red birds of de Valence, the black engrailed cross of +de Mohun, the silver star of de Vere, and the ruddy bars of FitzAlan, +all grouped round the famous red roses on the silver shield which the +Lorings had borne to glory upon many a bloody field. Then from side to +side the room was spanned by heavy oaken beams from which a great number +of objects were hanging. There were mail-shirts of obsolete pattern, +several shields, one or two rusted and battered helmets, bowstaves, +lances, otter-spears, harness, fishing-rods, and other implements of war +or of the chase, while higher still amid the black shadows of the peaked +roof could be seen rows of hams, flitches of bacon, salted geese, and +those other forms of preserved meat which played so great a part in the +housekeeping of the Middle Ages. + +Dame Ermyntrude Loring, daughter, wife, and mother of warriors, was +herself a formidable figure. Tall and gaunt, with hard craggy features +and intolerant dark eyes, even her snow-white hair and stooping back +could not entirely remove the sense of fear which she inspired in those +around her. Her thoughts and memories went back to harsher times, and +she looked upon the England around her as a degenerate and effeminate +land which had fallen away from the old standard of knightly courtesy +and valor. + +The rising power of the people, the growing wealth of the Church, the +increasing luxury in life and manners, and the gentler tone of the age +were all equally abhorrent to her, so that the dread of her fierce face, +and even of the heavy oak staff with which she supported her failing +limbs, was widespread through all the country round. + +Yet if she was feared she was also respected, for in days when books +were few and readers scarce, a long memory and a ready tongue were of +the more value; and where, save from Dame Ermyntrude, could the young +unlettered Squires of Surrey and Hampshire hear of their grandfathers +and their battles, or learn that lore of heraldry and chivalry which she +handed down from a ruder but a more martial age? Poor as she was, there +was no one in Surrey whose guidance would be more readily sought upon a +question of precedence or of conduct than the Dame Ermyntrude Loring. + +She sat now with bowed back by the empty fireplace, and looked across +at Nigel with all the harsh lines of her old ruddled face softening into +love and pride. The young Squire was busy cutting bird-bolts for his +crossbow, and whistling softly as he worked. Suddenly he looked up and +caught the dark eyes which were fixed upon him. He leaned forward and +patted the bony hand. + +"What hath pleased you, dear dame? I read pleasure in your eyes." + +"I have heard to-day, Nigel, how you came to win that great war-horse +which stamps in our stable." + +"Nay, dame; I had told you that the monks had given it to me." + +"You said so, fair son, but never a word more. Yet the horse which you +brought home was a very different horse I wot, to that which was given +you. Why did you not tell me?" + +"I should think it shame to talk of such a thing." + +"So would your father before you, and his father no less. They would sit +silent among the knights when the wine went round and listen to every +man's deeds; but if perchance there was anyone who spoke louder than the +rest and seemed to be eager for honor, then afterwards your father would +pluck him softly by the sleeve and whisper in his ear to learn if there +was any small vow of which he could relieve him, or if he would deign to +perform some noble deed of arms upon his person. And if the man were a +braggart and would go no further, your father would be silent and none +would know it. But if he bore himself well, your father would spread his +fame far and wide, but never make mention of himself." + +Nigel looked at the old woman with shining eyes. "I love to hear you +speak of him," said he. "I pray you to tell me once more of the manner +of his death." + +"He died as he had lived, a very courtly gentleman. It was at the great +sea-battle upon the Norman coast, and your father was in command of the +after-guard in the King's own ship. Now the French had taken a great +English ship the year before when they came over and held the narrow +seas and burned the town of Southampton. + +"This ship was the Christopher, and they placed it in the front of their +battle; but the English closed upon it and stormed over its side, and +slew all who were upon it. + +"But your father and Sir Lorredan of Genoa, who commanded the +Christopher, fought upon the high poop, so that all the fleet stopped +to watch it, and the King himself cried aloud at the sight, for Sir +Lorredan was a famous man-at-arms and bore himself very stoutly that +day, and many a knight envied your father that he should have chanced +upon so excellent a person. But your father bore him back and struck +him such a blow with a mace that he turned the helmet half round on +his head, so that he could no longer see through the eye holes, and +Sir Lorredan threw down his sword and gave himself to ransom. But your +father took him by the helmet and twisted it until he had it straight +upon his head. Then, when he could see once again, he handed him his +sword, and prayed him that he would rest himself and then continue, for +it was great profit and joy to see any gentleman carry himself so well. +So they sat together and rested by the rail of the poop; but even as +they raised their hands again your father was struck by a stone from a +mangonel and so died." + +"And this Sir Lorredan," cried Nigel, "he died also, as I understand?" + +"I fear that he was slain by the archers, for they loved your father, +and they do not see these things with our eyes." + +"It was a pity," said Nigel; "for it is clear that he was a good knight +and bore himself very bravely." + +"Time was, when I was young, when commoners dared not have laid their +grimy hands upon such a man. Men of gentle blood and coat-armor made +war upon each other, and the others, spearmen or archers, could scramble +amongst themselves. But now all are of a level, and only here and there +one like yourself, fair son, who reminds me of the men who are gone." + +Nigel leaned forward and took her hands in his. "What I am you have made +me," said he. + +"It is true, Nigel. I have indeed watched over you as the gardener +watches his most precious blossom, for in you alone are all the hopes of +our ancient house, and soon--very soon--you will be alone." + +"Nay, dear lady, say not that." + +"I am very old, Nigel, and I feel the shadow closing in upon me. My +heart yearns to go, for all whom I have known and loved have gone before +me. And you--it will be a blessed day for you, since I have held you +back from that world into which your brave spirit longs to plunge." + +"Nay, nay, I have been happy here with you at Tilford." + +"We are very poor, Nigel. I do not know where we may find the money +to fit you for the wars. Yet we have good friends. There is Sir John +Chandos, who has won such credit in the French wars and who rides ever +by the King's bridle-arm. He was your father's friend and they were +Squires together. If I sent you to court with a message to him he would +do what he could." + +Nigel's fair face flushed. "Nay, Dame Ermyntrude, I must find my own +gear, even as I have found my own horse, for I had rather ride into +battle in this tunic than owe my suit to another." + +"I feared that you would say so, Nigel; but indeed I know not how else +we may get the money," said the old woman sadly. "It was different in +the days of my father. I can remember that a suit of mail was but a +small matter in those days, for in every English town such things could +be made. But year by year since men have come to take more care of their +bodies, there have been added a plate of proof here and a cunning joint +there, and all must be from Toledo or Milan, so that a knight must have +much metal in his purse ere he puts any on his limbs." + +Nigel looked up wistfully at the old armor which was slung on the beams +above him. "The ash spear is good," said he, "and so is the oaken shield +with facings of steel. Sir Roger FitzAlan handled them and said that he +had never seen better. But the armor--" + +Lady Ermyntrude shook her old head and laughed. "You have your father's +great soul, Nigel, but you have not his mighty breadth of shoulder and +length of limb. There was not in all the King's great host a taller or +a stronger man. His harness would be little use to you. No, fair son, I +rede you that when the time comes you sell this crumbling house and the +few acres which are still left, and so go forth to the wars in the hope +that with your own right hand you will plant the fortunes of a new house +of Loring." + +A shadow of anger passed over Nigel's fresh young face. "I know not if +we may hold off these monks and their lawyers much longer. This very +day there came a man from Guildford with claims from the Abbey extending +back before my father's death." + +"Where are they, fair son?" + +"They are flapping on the furze-bushes of Hankley, for I sent his papers +and parchments down wind as fast as ever falcon flew." + +"Nay! you were mad to do that, Nigel. And the man, where is he?" + +"Red Swire and old George the archer threw him into the Thursley bog." + +"Alas! I fear me such things cannot be done in these days, though +my father or my husband would have sent the rascal back to Guildford +without his ears. But the Church and the Law are too strong now for us +who are of gentler blood. Trouble will come of it, Nigel, for the Abbot +of Waverley is not one who will hold back the shield of the Church from +those who are her servants." + +"The Abbot would not hurt us. It is that gray lean wolf of a sacrist who +hungers for our land. Let him do his worst. I fear him not." + +"He has such an engine at his back, Nigel, that even the bravest must +fear him. The ban which blasts a man's soul is in the keeping of his +church, and what have we to place against it? I pray you to speak him +fair, Nigel." + +"Nay, dear lady, it is both my duty and my pleasure to do what you bid +me; but I would die ere I ask as a favor that which we can claim as a +right. Never can I cast my eyes from yonder window that I do not see the +swelling down-lands and the rich meadows, glade and dingle, copse and +wood, which have been ours since Norman-William gave them to that Loring +who bore his shield at Senlac. Now, by trick and fraud, they have passed +away from us, and many a franklin is a richer man than I; but never +shall it be said that I saved the rest by bending my neck to their yoke. +Let them do their worst, and let me endure it or fight it as best I +may." + +The old lady sighed and shook her head. "You speak as a Loring should, +and yet I fear that some great trouble will befall us. But let us +talk no more of such matters, since we cannot mend them. Where is your +citole, Nigel? Will you not play and sing to me?" + +The gentleman of those days could scarce read and write; but he spoke +in two languages, played at least one musical instrument as a matter of +course, and possessed a number of other accomplishments, from the imping +of hawk's feathers, to the mystery of venery, with knowledge of every +beast and bird, its time of grace and when it was seasonable. As far as +physical feats went, to vault barebacked upon a horse, to hit a running +hare with a crossbow-bolt, or to climb the angle of a castle courtyard, +were feats which had come by nature to the young Squire; but it was very +different with music, which had called for many a weary hour of irksome +work. Now at last he could master the strings, but both his ear and his +voice were not of the best, so that it was well perhaps that there was +so small and so unprejudiced an audience to the Norman-French chanson, +which he sang in a high reedy voice with great earnestness of feeling, +but with many a slip and quaver, waving his yellow head in cadence to +the music: + + + A sword! A sword! Ah, give me a sword! + For the world is all to win. + Though the way be hard and the door be barred, + The strong man enters in. + If Chance and Fate still hold the gate, + Give me the iron key, + And turret high my plume shall fly, + Or you may weep for me! + + A horse! A horse! Ah, give me a horse! + To bear me out afar, + Where blackest need and grimmest deed + And sweetest perils are. + Hold thou my ways from glutted days + Where poisoned leisure lies, + And point the path of tears and wrath + Which mounts to high emprise! + + A heart! A heart! Ah, give me a heart + To rise to circumstance! + Serene and high and bold to try + The hazard of the chance, + With strength to wait, but fixed as fate + To plan and dare and do, + The peer of all, and only thrall, + Sweet lady mine, to you! + +It may have been that the sentiment went for more than the music, or it +may have been the nicety of her own ears had been dulled by age, but old +Dame Ermyntrude clapped her lean hands together and cried out in shrill +applause. + +"Weathercote has indeed had an apt pupil!" she said. "I pray you that +you will sing again." + +"Nay, dear dame, it is turn and turn betwixt you and me. I beg that you +will recite a romance, you who know them all. For all the years that I +have listened I have never yet come to the end of them, and I dare swear +that there are more in your head than in all the great books which they +showed me at Guildford Castle. I would fain hear 'Doon of Mayence,' or +'The Song of Roland,' or 'Sir Isumbras.'" + +So the old dame broke into a long poem, slow and dull in the inception, +but quickening as the interest grew, until with darting hands and +glowing face she poured forth the verses which told of the emptiness of +sordid life, the beauty of heroic death, the high sacredness of love and +the bondage of honor. Nigel, with set, still features and brooding eyes, +drank in the fiery words, until at last they died upon the old woman's +lips and she sank back weary in her chair. + +Nigel stooped over her and kissed her brow. "Your words will ever be as +a star upon my path," said he. Then, carrying over the small table and +the chessmen, he proposed that they should play their usual game before +they sought their rooms for the night. + +But a sudden and rude interruption broke in upon their gentle contest. +A dog pricked its ears and barked. The others ran growling to the door. +And then there came a sharp clash of arms, a dull heavy blow as from +a club or sword-pommel, and a deep voice from without summoned them to +open in the King's name. The old dame and Nigel had both sprung to their +feet, their table overturned and their chessmen scattered among the +rushes. Nigel's hand had sought his crossbow, but the Lady Ermyntrude +grasped his arm. + +"Nay, fair son! Have you not heard that it is in the King's name?" said +she. "Down, Talbot! Down, Bayard! Open the door and let his messenger +in!" + +Nigel undid the bolt, and the heavy wooden door swung outward upon its +hinges. The light from the flaring cressets beat upon steel caps and +fierce bearded faces, with the glimmer of drawn swords and the yellow +gleam of bowstaves. A dozen armed archers forced their way into the +room. At their head were the gaunt sacrist of Waverley and a stout +elderly man clad in a red velvet doublet and breeches much stained and +mottled with mud and clay. He bore a great sheet of parchment with a +fringe of dangling seals, which he held aloft as he entered. + +"I call on Nigel Loring!" he cried. "I, the officer of the King's law +and the lay summoner of Waverley, call upon the man named Nigel Loring!" + +"I am he." + +"Yes, it is he!" cried the sacrist. "Archers, do as you were ordered!" + +In an instant the band threw themselves upon him like the hounds on a +stag. Desperately Nigel strove to gain his sword which lay upon the iron +coffer. With the convulsive strength which comes from the spirit rather +than from the body, he bore them all in that direction, but the sacrist +snatched the weapon from its place, and the rest dragged the writhing +Squire to the ground and swathed him in a cord. + +"Hold him fast, good archers! Keep a stout grip on him!" cried the +summoner. "I pray you, one of you, prick off these great dogs which +snarl at my heels. Stand off, I say, in the name of the King! Watkin, +come betwixt me and these creatures who have as little regard for the +law as their master." + +One of the archers kicked off the faithful dogs. But there were others +of the household who were equally ready to show their teeth in defense +of the old house of Loring. From the door which led to their quarters +there emerged the pitiful muster of Nigel's threadbare retainers. There +was a time when ten knights, forty men-at-arms and two hundred archers +would march behind the scarlet roses. Now at this last rally when the +young head of the house lay bound in his own hall, there mustered at +his call the page Charles with a cudgel, John the cook with his longest +spit, Red Swire the aged man-at-arms with a formidable ax swung over +his snowy head, and Weathercote the minstrel with a boar-spear. Yet this +motley array was fired with the spirit of the house, and under the lead +of the fierce old soldier they would certainly have flung themselves +upon the ready swords of the archers, had the Lady Ermyntrude not swept +between them: + +"Stand back, Swire!" she cried. "Back, Weathercote Charles, put a +leash on Talbot, and hold Bayard back!" Her black eyes blazed upon the +invaders until they shrank from that baleful gaze. "Who are you, you +rascal robbers, who dare to misuse the King's name and to lay hands upon +one whose smallest drop of blood has more worth than all your thrall and +caitiff bodies?" + +"Nay, not so fast, dame, not so fast, I pray you!" cried the stout +summoner, whose face had resumed its natural color, now that he had a +woman to deal with. "There is a law of England, mark you, and there are +those who serve and uphold it, who are the true men and the King's own +lieges. Such a one am I. Then again, there are those who take such as +me and transfer, carry or convey us into a bog or morass. Such a one is +this graceless old man with the ax, whom I have seen already this day. +There are also those who tear, destroy or scatter the papers of the law, +of which this young man is the chief. Therefore, I would rede you, dame, +not to rail against us, but to understand that we are the King's men on +the King's own service." + +"What then is your errand in this house at this hour of the night?" + +The summoner cleared his throat pompously, and turning his parchment to +the light of the cressets he read out a long document in Norman-French, +couched in such a style and such a language that the most involved and +foolish of our forms were simplicity itself compared to those by which +the men of the long gown made a mystery of that which of all things on +earth should be the plainest and the most simple. Despair fell cold upon +Nigel's heart and blanched the face of the old dame as they listened to +the dread catalogue of claims and suits and issues, questions of peccary +and turbary, of house-bote and fire-bote, which ended by a demand for +all the lands, hereditaments, tenements, messuages and curtilages, which +made up their worldly all. + +Nigel, still bound, had been placed with his back against the iron +coffer, whence he heard with dry lips and moist brow this doom of his +house. Now he broke in on the recital with a vehemence which made the +summoner jump: + +"You shall rue what you have done this night!" he cried. "Poor as we +are, we have our friends who will not see us wronged, and I will plead +my cause before the King's own majesty at Windsor, that he, who saw the +father die, may know what things are done in his royal name against the +son. But these matters are to be settled in course of law in the King's +courts, and how will you excuse yourself for this assault upon my house +and person?" + +"Nay, that is another matter," said the sacrist. "The question of debt +may indeed be an affair of a civil court. But it is a crime against the +law and an act of the Devil, which comes within the jurisdiction of the +Abbey Court of Waverley when you dare to lay hands upon the summoner or +his papers." + +"Indeed, he speaks truth," cried the official. "I know no blacker sin." + +"Therefore," said the stern monk, "it is the order of the holy father +Abbot that you sleep this night in the Abbey cell, and that to-morrow +you be brought before him at the court held in the chapter-house so that +you receive the fit punishment for this and the many other violent and +froward deeds which you have wrought upon the servants of Holy Church. +Enough is now said, worthy master summoner. Archers, remove your +prisoner!" + +As Nigel was lifted up by four stout archers, the Dame Ermyntrude would +have rushed to his aid, but the sacrist thrust her back. + +"Stand off, proud woman! Let the law take its course, and learn to +humble your heart before the power of Holy Church. Has your life not +taught its lesson, you, whose horn was exalted among the highest and +will soon not have a roof above your gray hairs? Stand back, I say, lest +I lay a curse upon you!" + +The old dame flamed suddenly into white wrath as she stood before the +angry monk: "Listen to me while I lay a curse upon you and yours!" +she cried as she raised her shriveled arms and blighted him with her +flashing eyes-- + +"As you have done to the house of Loring, so may God do to you, until +your power is swept from the land of England, and of your great Abbey +of Waverley there is nothing left but a pile of gray stones in a green +meadow! I see it! I see it! With my old eyes I see it! From scullion to +Abbot and from cellar to tower, may Waverley and all within it droop and +wither from this night on!" + +The monk, hard as he was, quailed before the frantic figure and the +bitter, burning words. Already the summoner and the archers with their +prisoner were clear of the house. He turned and with a clang he shut the +heavy door behind him. + + + +V. HOW NIGEL WAS TRIED BY THE ABBOT OF WAVERLEY + + +The law of the Middle Ages, shrouded as it was in old Norman-French +dialect, and abounding in uncouth and incomprehensible terms, in +deodands and heriots, in infang and outfang, was a fearsome weapon in +the hands of those who knew how to use it. It was not for nothing that +the first act of the rebel commoners was to hew off the head of the +Lord Chancellor. In an age when few knew how to read or to write, these +mystic phrases and intricate forms, with the parchments and seals which +were their outward expression, struck cold terror into hearts which were +steeled against mere physical danger. + +Even young Nigel Loring's blithe and elastic spirit was chilled as +he lay that night in the penal cell of Waverley and pondered over the +absolute ruin which threatened his house from a source against which all +his courage was of no avail. As well take up sword and shield to defend +himself against the black death, as against this blight of Holy Church. +He was powerless in the grip of the Abbey. Already they had shorn off +a field here and a grove there, and now in one sweep they would take in +the rest, and where then was the home of the Lorings, and where should +Lady Ermyntrude lay her aged head, or his old retainers, broken and +spent, eke out the balance of their days? He shivered as he thought of +it. + +It was very well for him to threaten to carry the matter before the +King, but it was years since royal Edward had heard the name of Loring, +and Nigel knew that the memory of princes was a short one. Besides, the +Church was the ruling power in the palace as well as in the cottage, and +it was only for very good cause that a King could be expected to cross +the purposes of so high a prelate as the Abbot of Waverley, as long as +they came within the scope of the law. Where then was he to look for +help? With the simple and practical piety of the age, he prayed for the +aid of his own particular saints: of Saint Paul, whose adventures by +land and sea had always endeared him; of Saint George, who had gained +much honorable advancement from the Dragon; and of Saint Thomas, who +was a gentleman of coat-armor, who would understand and help a person of +gentle blood. Then, much comforted by his naive orisons he enjoyed the +sleep of youth and health until the entrance of the lay brother with the +bread and small beer, which served as breakfast, in the morning. + +The Abbey court sat in the chapter-house at the canonical hour of +tierce, which was nine in the forenoon. At all times the function was +a solemn one, even when the culprit might be a villain who was taken +poaching on the Abbey estate, or a chapman who had given false measure +from his biased scales. But now, when a man of noble birth was to be +tried, the whole legal and ecclesiastical ceremony was carried out with +every detail, grotesque or impressive, which the full ritual prescribed. +The distant roll of church music and the slow tolling of the Abbey bell; +the white-robed brethren, two and two, walked thrice round the hall +singing the "Benedicite" and the "Veni, Creator" before they settled in +their places at the desks on either side. Then in turn each high officer +of the Abbey from below upward, the almoner, the lector, the chaplain, +the subprior and the prior, swept to their wonted places. + +Finally there came the grim sacrist, with demure triumph upon his +downcast features, and at his heels Abbot John himself, slow and +dignified, with pompous walk and solemn, composed face, his iron-beaded +rosary swinging from his waist, his breviary in his hand, and his lips +muttering as he hurried through his office for the day. He knelt at his +high prie-dieu; the brethren, at a signal from the prior, prostrated +themselves upon the floor, and the low deep voices rolled in prayer, +echoed back from the arched and vaulted roof like the wash of waves from +an ocean cavern. Finally the monks resumed their seats; there entered +clerks in seemly black with pens and parchment; the red-velveted +summoner appeared to tell his tale; Nigel was led in with archers +pressing close around him; and then, with much calling of old French and +much legal incantation and mystery, the court of the Abbey was open for +business. + +It was the sacrist who first advanced to the oaken desk reserved for the +witnesses and expounded in hard, dry, mechanical fashion the many claims +which the House, of Waverley had against the family of Loring. Some +generations back in return for money advanced or for spiritual favor +received the Loring of the day had admitted that his estate had certain +feudal duties toward the Abbey. The sacrist held up the crackling yellow +parchment with swinging leaden seals on which the claim was based. Amid +the obligations was that of escuage, by which the price of a knight's +fee should be paid every year. No such price had been paid, nor had any +service been done. The accumulated years came now to a greater sum than +the fee simple of the estate. There were other claims also. The sacrist +called for his books, and with thin, eager forefinger he tracked them +down: dues for this, and tailage for that, so many shillings this year, +and so many marks that one. Some of it occurred before Nigel was born; +some of it when he was but a child. The accounts had been checked and +certified by the sergeant of the law. + +Nigel listened to the dread recital, and felt like some young stag who +stands at bay with brave pose and heart of fire, but who sees himself +compassed round and knows clearly that there is no escape. With his bold +young face, his steady blue eyes, and the proud poise of his head, he +was a worthy scion of the old house, and the sun, shining through the +high oriel window, and showing up the stained and threadbare condition +of his once rich doublet, seemed to illuminate the fallen fortunes of +his family. + +The sacrist had finished his exposition, and the sergeant-at-law was +about to conclude a case which Nigel could in no way controvert, when +help came to him from an unexpected quarter. It may have been a certain +malignity with which the sacrist urged his suit, it may have been a +diplomatic dislike to driving matters to extremes, or it may have been +some genuine impulse of kindliness, for Abbot John was choleric but +easily appeased. Whatever the cause, the result was that a white plump +hand, raised in the air with a gesture of authority, showed that the +case was at an end. + +"Our brother sacrist hath done his duty in urging this suit," said he, +"for the worldly wealth of this Abbey is placed in his pious keeping, +and it is to him that we should look if we suffered in such ways, for we +are but the trustees of those who come after us. But to my keeping has +been consigned that which is more precious still, the inner spirit and +high repute of those who follow the rule of Saint Bernard. Now it has +ever been our endeavor, since first our saintly founder went down into +the valley of Clairvaux and built himself a cell there, that we should +set an example to all men in gentleness and humility. For this reason +it is that we built our houses in lowly places, that we have no tower to +our Abbey churches, and that no finery and no metal, save only iron or +lead, come within our walls. A brother shall eat from a wooden platter, +drink from an iron cup, and light himself from a leaden sconce. Surely +it is not for such an order who await the exaltation which is promised +to the humble, to judge their own case and so acquire the lands of their +neighbor! If our cause be just, as indeed I believe that it is, then it +were better that it be judged at the King's assizes at Guildford, and so +I decree that the case be now dismissed from the Abbey court so that it +can be heard elsewhere." + +Nigel breathed a prayer to the three sturdy saints who had stood by him +so manfully and well in the hour of his need. "Abbot John," said he, "I +never thought that any man of my name would utter thanks to a Cistercian +of Waverley; but by Saint Paul! you have spoken like a man this day, for +it would indeed be to play with cogged dice if the Abbey's case is to be +tried in the Abbey court." + +The eighty white-clad brethren looked with half resentful, half amused +eyes as they listened to this frank address to one who, in their small +lives, seemed to be the direct vice-regent of Heaven. The archers had +stood back from Nigel, as though he was at liberty to go, when the loud +voice of the summoner broke in upon the silence-- + +"If it please you, holy father Abbot," cried the voice, "this decision +of yours is indeed secundum legem and intra vires so far as the civil +suit is concerned which lies between this person and the Abbey. That is +your affair; but it is I, Joseph the summoner, who have been grievously +and criminally mishandled, my writs, papers and indentures destroyed, +my authority flouted, and my person dragged through a bog, quagmire or +morass, so that my velvet gabardine and silver badge of office were +lost and are, as I verily believe, in the morass, quagmire or bog +aforementioned, which is the same bog, morass--" + +"Enough!" cried the Abbot sternly. "Lay aside this foolish fashion of +speech and say straitly what you desire." + +"Holy father, I have been the officer of the King's law no less than the +servant of Holy Church, and I have been let, hindered and assaulted in +the performance of my lawful and proper duties, whilst my papers, drawn +in the King's name, have been shended and rended and cast to the wind. +Therefore, I demand justice upon this man in the Abbey court, the +said assault having been committed within the banlieue of the Abbey's +jurisdiction." + +"What have you to say to this, brother sacrist?" asked the Abbot in some +perplexity. + +"I would say, father, that it is within our power to deal gently and +charitably with all that concerns ourselves, but that where a the King's +officer is concerned we are wanting in our duty if we give him less than +the protection that he demands. I would remind you also, holy father, +that this is not the first of this man's violence, but that he has +before now beaten our servants, defied our authority, and put pike in +the Abbot's own fish-pond." + +The prelate's heavy cheeks flushed with anger as this old grievance came +fresh into his mind. His eyes hardened as he looked at the prisoner. +"Tell me, Squire Nigel, did you indeed put pike in the pond?" + +The young man drew himself proudly up. "Ere I answer such a question, +father Abbot, do you answer one from me, and tell me what the monks of +Waverley have ever done for me that I should hold my hand when I could +injure them?" + +A low murmur ran round the room, partly wonder at his frankness, and +partly anger at his boldness. + +The Abbot settled down in his seat as one who has made up his mind. "Let +the case of the summoner be laid before me," said he. "Justice shall be +done, and the offender shall be punished, be he noble or simple. Let the +plaint be brought before the court." + +The tale of the summoner, though rambling and filled with endless legal +reiteration, was only too clear in its essence. Red Swire, with his +angry face framed in white bristles, was led in, and confessed to his +ill treatment of the official. A second culprit, a little wiry nut-brown +archer from Churt, had aided and abetted in the deed. Both of them were +ready to declare that young Squire Nigel Loring knew nothing of the +matter. But then there was the awkward incident of the tearing of the +writs. Nigel, to whom a lie was an impossibility, had to admit that with +his own hands he had shredded those august documents. As to an excuse or +an explanation, he was too proud to advance any. A cloud gathered over +the brow of the Abbot, and the sacrist gazed with an ironical smile at +the prisoner, while a solemn hush fell over the chapter-house as the +case ended and only, judgment remained. + +"Squire Nigel," said the Abbot, "it was for you, who are, as all men +know, of ancient lineage in this land, to give a fair example by which +others should set their conduct. Instead of this, your manor house has +ever been a center for the stirring up of strife, and now not content +with your harsh showing toward us, the Cistercian monks of Waverley, +you have even marked your contempt for the King's law, and through your +servants have mishandled the person of his messenger. For such offenses +it is in my power to call the spiritual terrors of the Church upon your +head, and yet I would not be harsh with you, seeing that you are young, +and that even last week you saved the life of a servant of the Abbey +when in peril. Therefore, it is by temporal and carnal means that I +will use my power to tame your overbold spirit, and to chasten that +headstrong and violent humor which has caused such scandal in your +dealings with our Abbey. Bread and water for six weeks from now to the +Feast of Saint Benedict, with a daily exhortation from our chaplain, +the pious Father Ambrose, may still avail to bend the stiff neck and to +soften the hard heart." + +At this ignominious sentence by which the proud heir of the house of +Loring would share the fate of the meanest village poacher, the hot +blood of Nigel rushed to his face, and his eye glanced round him with +a gleam which said more plainly than words that there could be no tame +acceptance of such a doom. Twice he tried to speak, and twice his anger +and his shame held the words in his throat. + +"I am no subject of yours, proud Abbot!" he cried at last. "My house has +ever been vavasor to the King. I deny the power of you and your court to +lay sentence upon me. Punish these your own monks, who whimper at your +frown, but do not dare to lay your hand upon him who fears you not, for +he is a free man, and the peer of any save only the King himself." + +The Abbot seemed for an instant taken aback by these bold words, and by +the high and strenuous voice in which they were uttered. But the sterner +sacrist came as ever to stiffen his will. He held up the old parchment +in his hand. + +"The Lorings were indeed vavasors to the King," said he; "but here is +the very seal of Eustace Loring which shows that he made himself vassal +to the Abbey and held his land from it." + +"Because he was gentle," cried Nigel, "because he had no thought of +trick or guile." + +"Nay!" said the summoner. "If my voice may be heard, father Abbot, upon +a point of the law, it is of no weight what the causes may have been why +a deed is subscribed, signed or confirmed, but a court is concerned only +with the terms, articles, covenants and contracts of the said deed." + +"Besides," said the sacrist, "sentence is passed by the Abbey court, and +there is an end of its honor and good name if it be not upheld." + +"Brother sacrist," said the Abbot angrily, "methinks you show overmuch +zeal in this case, and certes, we are well able to uphold the dignity +and honor of the Abbey court without any rede of thine. As to you, +worthy summoner, you will give your opinion when we crave for it, and +not before, or you may yourself get some touch of the power of our +tribunal. But your case hath been tried, Squire Loring, and judgment +given. I have no more to say." + +He motioned with his hand, and an archer laid his grip upon the shoulder +of the prisoner. But that rough plebeian touch woke every passion of +revolt in Nigel's spirit. Of all his high line of ancestors, was there +one who had been subjected to such ignominy as this? Would they not have +preferred death? And should he be the first to lower their spirit or +their traditions? With a quick, lithe movement, he slipped under the arm +of the archer, and plucked the short, straight sword from the soldier's +side as he did so. The next instant he had wedged himself into the +recess of one of the narrow windows, and there were his pale set face, +his burning eyes, and his ready blade turned upon the assembly. + +"By Saint Paul!" said he, "I never thought to find honorable advancement +under the roof of an abbey, but perchance there may, be some room for it +ere you hale me to your prison." + +The chapter-house was in an uproar. Never in the long and decorous +history of the Abbey had such a scene been witnessed within its walls. +The monks themselves seemed for an instant to be infected by this spirit +of daring revolt. Their own lifelong fetters hung more loosely as they +viewed this unheard-of defiance of authority. They broke from their +seats on either side and huddled half-scared, half-fascinated, in a +large half-circle round the defiant captive, chattering, pointing, +grimacing, a scandal for all time. Scourges should fall and penance be +done for many a long week before the shadow of that day should pass from +Waverley. But meanwhile there was no effort to bring them back to their +rule. Everything was chaos and disorder. The Abbot had left his seat of +justice and hurried angrily forward, to be engulfed and hustled in the +crowd of his own monks like a sheep-dog who finds himself entangled amid +a flock. + +Only the sacrist stood clear. He had taken shelter behind the half-dozen +archers, who looked with some approval and a good deal of indecision at +this bold fugitive from justice. + +"On him!" cried the sacrist. "Shall he defy the authority of the court, +or shall one man hold six of you at bay? Close in upon him and seize +him. You, Baddlesmere, why do you hold back?" + +The man in question, a tall bushy-bearded fellow, clad like the others +in green jerkin and breeches with high brown boots, advanced slowly, +sword in hand, against Nigel. His heart was not in the business, for +these clerical courts were not popular, and everyone had a tender heart +for the fallen fortunes of the house of Loring and wished well to its +young heir. + +"Come, young sir, you have caused scathe enough," said he. "Stand forth +and give yourself up!" + +"Come and fetch me, good fellow," said Nigel, with a dangerous smile. + +The archer ran in. There was a rasp of steel, a blade flickered like a +swift dart of flame, and the man staggered back, with blood running down +his forearm and dripping from his fingers. He wrung them and growled a +Saxon oath. + +"By the black rood of Bromeholm!" he cried, "I had as soon put my hand +down a fox's earth to drag up a vixen from her cubs." + +"Standoff!" said Nigel curtly. "I would not hurt you; but by Saint Paul! +I will not be handled, or some one will be hurt in the handling." + +So fierce was his eye and so menacing his blade as he crouched in the +narrow bay of the window that the little knot of archers were at a loss +what to do. The Abbot had forced his way through the crowd and stood, +purple with outraged dignity, at their side. + +"He is outside the law," said he. "He hath shed blood in a court of +justice, and for such a sin there is no forgiveness. I will not have my +court so flouted and set at naught. He who draws the sword, by the sword +also let him perish. Forester Hugh lay a shaft to your bow!" + +The man, who was one of the Abbey's lay servants, put his weight upon +his long bow and slipped the loose end of the string into the upper +notch. Then, drawing one of the terrible three-foot arrows, steel-tipped +and gaudily winged, from his waist, he laid it to the string. + +"Now draw your bow and hold it ready!" cried the furious Abbot. "Squire +Nigel, it is not for Holy Church to shed blood, but there is naught but +violence which will prevail against the violent, and on your head be the +sin. Cast down the sword which you hold in your hand!" + +"Will you give me freedom to leave your Abbey?" + +"When you have abided your sentence and purged your sin." + +"Then I had rather die where I stand than give up my sword." + +A dangerous flame lit in the Abbot's eyes. He came of a fighting Norman +stock, like so many of those fierce prelates who, bearing a mace lest +they should be guilty of effusion of blood, led their troops into +battle, ever remembering that it was one of their own cloth and dignity +who, crosier in hand, had turned the long-drawn bloody day of Hastings. +The soft accent of the churchman was gone and it was the hard voice of a +soldier which said-- + +"One minute I give you, and no more. Then when I cry 'Loose!' drive me +an arrow through his body." + +The shaft was fitted, the bow was bent, and the stern eyes of the +woodman were fixed on his mark. Slowly the minute passed, while Nigel +breathed a prayer to his three soldier saints, not that they should save +his body in this life, but that they should have a kindly care for his +soul in the next. Some thought of a fierce wildcat sally crossed his +mind, but once out of his corner he was lost indeed. Yet at the last +he would have rushed among his enemies, and his body was bent for the +spring, when with a deep sonorous hum, like a breaking harp-string, +the cord of the bow was cloven in twain, and the arrow tinkled upon the +tiled floor. At the same moment a young curly-headed bowman, whose broad +shoulders and deep chest told of immense strength, as clearly as +his frank, laughing face and honest hazel eyes did of good humor and +courage, sprang forward sword in hand and took his place by Nigel's +side. + +"Nay, comrades!" said he. "Samkin Aylward cannot stand by and see a +gallant man shot down like a bull at the end of a baiting. Five +against one is long odds; but two against four is better, and by my +finger-bones! Squire Nigel and I leave this room together, be it on our +feet or no." + +The formidable appearance of this ally and his high reputation among +his fellows gave a further chill to the lukewarm ardor of the attack. +Aylward's left arm was passed through his strung bow, and he was known +from Woolmer Forest to the Weald as the quickest, surest archer that +ever dropped a running deer at tenscore paces. + +"Nay, Baddlesmere, hold your fingers from your string-case, or I may +chance to give your drawing hand a two months' rest," said Aylward. +"Swords, if you will, comrades, but no man strings his bow till I have +loosed mine." + +Yet the angry hearts of both Abbot and sacrist rose higher with a fresh +obstacle. + +"This is an ill day for your father, Franklin Aylward, who holds the +tenancy of Crooksbury," said the sacrist. "He will rue it that ever he +begot a son who will lose him his acres and his steading." + +"My father is a bold yeoman, and would rue it evermore that ever his son +should stand by while foul work was afoot," said Aylward stoutly. "Fall +on, comrades! We are waiting." + +Encouraged by promises of reward if they should fall in the service of +the Abbey, and by threats of penalties if they should hold back, the +four archers were about to close, when a singular interruption gave an +entirely new turn to the proceedings. + +At the door of the chapter-house, while these fiery doings had been +afoot, there had assembled a mixed crowd of lay brothers, servants and +varlets who had watched the development of the drama with the interest +and delight with which men hail a sudden break in a dull routine. +Suddenly there was an agitation at the back of this group, then a swirl +in the center, and finally the front rank was violently thrust aside, +and through the gap there emerged a strange and whimsical figure, who +from the instant of his appearance dominated both chapter-house and +Abbey, monks, prelates and archers, as if he were their owner and their +master. + +He was a man somewhat above middle age, with thin lemon-colored hair, a +curling mustache, a tufted chin of the same hue, and a high craggy face, +all running to a great hook of the nose, like the beak of an eagle. His +skin was tanned a brown-red by much exposure to the wind and sun. In +height he was tall, and his figure was thin and loose-jointed, but +stringy and hard-bitten. One eye was entirely covered by its lid, which +lay flat over an empty socket, but the other danced and sparkled with a +most roguish light, darting here and there with a twinkle of humor and +criticism and intelligence, the whole fire of his soul bursting through +that one narrow cranny. + +His dress was as noteworthy as his person. A rich purple doublet and +cloak was marked on the lapels with a strange scarlet device shaped like +a wedge. Costly lace hung round his shoulders, and amid its soft folds +there smoldered the dull red of a heavy golden chain. A knight's belt +at his waist and a knight's golden spurs twinkling from his doeskin +riding-boots proclaimed his rank, and on the wrist of his left gauntlet +there sat a demure little hooded falcon of a breed which in itself was a +mark of the dignity of the owner. Of weapons he had none, but a mandolin +was slung by a black silken band over his back, and the high brown +end projected above his shoulder. Such was the man, quaint, critical, +masterful, with a touch of what is formidable behind it, who now +surveyed the opposing groups of armed men and angry monks with an eye +which commanded their attention. + +"Excusez!" said he, in a lisping French. "Excusez, mes amis! I had +thought to arouse from prayer or meditation, but never have I seen +such a holy exercise as this under an abbey's roof, with swords for +breviaries and archers for acolytes. I fear that I have come amiss, and +yet I ride on an errand from one who permits no delay." + +The Abbot, and possibly the sacrist also, had begun to realize that +events had gone a great deal farther than they had intended, and that +without an extreme scandal it was no easy matter for them to save +their dignity and the good name of Waverley. Therefore, in spite of +the debonair, not to say disrespectful, bearing of the newcomer, they +rejoiced at his appearance and intervention. + +"I am the Abbot of Waverley, fair son," said the prelate. "If your +message deal with a public matter it may be fitly repeated in the +chapter-house; if not I will give you audience in my own chamber; for +it is clear to me that you are a gentle man of blood and coat-armor who +would not lightly break in upon the business of our court--a business +which, as you have remarked, is little welcome to men of peace like +myself and the brethren of the rule of Saint Bernard." + +"Pardieu! Father Abbot," said the stranger. "One had but to glance at +you and your men to see that the business was indeed little to your +taste, and it may be even less so when I say that rather than see this +young person in the window, who hath a noble bearing, further molested +by these archers, I will myself adventure my person on his behalf." + +The Abbot's smile turned to a frown at these frank words. "It would +become you better, sir, to deliver the message of which you say that you +are the bearer, than to uphold a prisoner against the rightful judgment +of a court." + +The stranger swept the court with his questioning eye. "The message is +not for you, good father Abbot. It is for one whom I know not. I have +been to his house, and they have sent me hither. The name is Nigel +Loring." + +"It is for me, fair sir." + +"I had thought as much. I knew your father, Eustace Loring, and though +he would have made two of you, yet he has left his stamp plain enough +upon your face." + +"You know not the truth of this matter," said the Abbot. "If you are +a loyal man, you will stand aside, for this young man hath grievously +offended against the law, and it is for the King's lieges to give us +their support." + +"And you have haled him up for judgment," cried the stranger with much +amusement. "It is as though a rookery sat in judgment upon a falcon. I +warrant that you have found it easier to judge than to punish. Let me +tell you, father Abbot, that this standeth not aright. When powers such +as these were given to the like of you, they were given that you might +check a brawling underling or correct a drunken woodman, and not that +you might drag the best blood in England to your bar and set your +archers on him if he questioned your findings." + +The Abbot was little used to hear such words of reproof uttered in so +stern a voice under his own abbey roof and before his listening monks. +"You may perchance find that an Abbey court has more powers than you +wot of, Sir Knight," said he, "if knight indeed you be who are so +uncourteous and short in your speech. Ere we go further, I would ask +your name and style?" + +The stranger laughed. "It is easy to see that you are indeed men of +peace," said he proudly. "Had I shown this sign," and he touched the +token upon his lapels, "whether on shield or pennon, in the marches of +France or Scotland, there is not a cavalier but would have known the red +pile of Chandos." + +Chandos, John Chandos, the flower of English chivalry, the pink of +knight-errantry, the hero already of fifty desperate enterprises, a man +known and honored from end to end of Europe! Nigel gazed at him as +one who sees a vision. The archers stood back abashed, while the monks +crowded closer to stare at the famous soldier of the French wars. The +Abbot abated his tone, and a smile came to his angry face. + +"We are indeed men of peace, Sir John, and little skilled in warlike +blazonry," said he; "yet stout as are our Abbey walls, they are not so +thick that the fame of your exploits has not passed through them and +reached our ears. If it be your pleasure to take an interest in this +young and misguided Squire, it is not for us to thwart your kind +intention or to withhold such grace as you request. I am glad indeed +that he hath one who can set him so fair an example for a friend." + +"I thank you for your courtesy, good father Abbot," said Chandos +carelessly. "This young Squire has, however, a better friend than +myself, one who is kinder to those he loves and more terrible to those +he hates. It is from him I bear a message." + +"I pray you, fair and honored sir," said Nigel, "that you will tell me +what is the message that you bear." + +"The message, mon ami, is that your friend comes into these parts and +would have a night's lodging at the manor house of Tilford for the love +and respect that he bears your family." + +"Nay, he is most welcome," said Nigel, "and yet I hope that he is one +who can relish a soldier's fare and sleep under a humble roof, for +indeed we can but give our best, poor as it is." + +"He is indeed a soldier and a good one," Chandos answered, laughing, +"and I warrant he has slept in rougher quarters than Tilford +Manor-house." + +"I have few friends, fair sir," said Nigel, with a puzzled face. "I pray +you give me this gentleman's name." + +"His name is Edward." + +"Sir Edward Mortimer of Kent, perchance, or is it Sir Edward Brocas of +whom the Lady Ermyntrude talks?" + +"Nay, he is known as Edward only, and if you ask a second name it is +Plantagenet, for he who comes to seek the shelter of your roof is your +liege lord and mine, the King's high majesty, Edward of England." + + + + +VI. IN WHICH LADY ERMYNTRUDE OPENS THE IRON COFFER + + +AS in a dream Nigel heard these stupendous and incredible words. As in +a dream also he had a vision of a smiling and conciliatory Abbot, of an +obsequious sacrist, and of a band of archers who cleared a path for him +and for the King's messenger through the motley crowd who had choked the +entrance of the Abbey court. A minute later he was walking by the side +of Chandos through the peaceful cloister, and in front in the open +archway of the great gate was the broad yellow road between its borders +of green meadow-land. The spring air was the sweeter and the more +fragrant for that chill dread of dishonor and captivity which had so +recently frozen his ardent heart. He had already passed the portal when +a hand plucked at his sleeve and he turned to find himself confronted by +the brown honest face and hazel eyes of the archer who had interfered in +his behalf. + +"Well," said Aylward, "what have you to say to me, young sir?" + +"What can I say, my good fellow, save that I thank you with all my +heart? By Saint Paul! if you had been my blood brother you could not +have stood by me more stoutly." + +"Nay! but this is not enough." + +Nigel colored with vexation, and the more so as Chandos was listening +with his critical smile to their conversation. "If you had heard what +was said in the court," said he, "you would understand that I am not +blessed at this moment with much of this world's gear. The black death +and the monks have between them been heavy upon our estate. Willingly +would I give you a handful of gold for your assistance, since that is +what you seem to crave; but indeed I have it not, and so once more I say +that you must be satisfied with my thanks." + +"Your gold is nothing to me," said Aylward shortly, "nor would you buy +my loyalty if you filled my wallet with rose nobles, so long as you were +not a man after my own heart. But I have seen you back the yellow horse, +and I have seen you face the Abbot of Waverley, and you are such a +master as I would very gladly serve if you have by chance a place for +such a man. I have seen your following, and I doubt not that they were +stout fellows in your grandfather's time; but which of them now would +draw a bow-string to his ear? Through you I have left the service of the +Abbey of Waverley, and where can I look now for a post? If I stay here I +am all undone like a fretted bow-string." + +"Nay, there can be no difficulty there," said Chandos. "Pardieu! a +roistering, swaggering dare-devil archer is worth his price on the +French border. There are two hundred such who march behind my own +person, and I would ask nothing better than to see you among them." + +"I thank you, noble sir, for your offer," said Aylward, "and I had +rather follow your banner than many another one, for it is well known +that it goes ever forward, and I have heard enough of the wars to know +that there are small pickings for the man who lags behind. Yet, if the +Squire will have me, I would choose to fight under the five roses of +Loring, for though I was born in the hundred of Easebourne and the rape +of Chichester, yet I have grown up and learned to use the longbow in +these parts, and as the free son of a free franklin I had rather serve +my own neighbor than a stranger." + +"My good fellow," said Nigel, "I have told you that I could in no wise +reward you for such service." + +"If you will but take me to the wars I will see to my own reward," said +Aylward. "Till then I ask for none, save a corner of your table and six +feet of your floor, for it is certain that the only reward I would get +from the Abbey for this day's work would be the scourge for my back and +the stocks for my ankles. Samkin Aylward is your man, Squire Nigel, from +this hour on, and by these ten finger-bones he trusts the Devil will +fly away with him if ever he gives you cause to regret it!" So saying he +raised his hand to his steel cap in salute, slung his great yellow bow +over his back, and followed on some paces in the rear of his new master. + +"Pardieu! I have arrived a la bonne heure," said Chandos. "I rode from +Windsor and came to your manor house, to find it empty save for a fine +old dame, who told me of your troubles. From her I walked across to the +Abbey, and none too soon, for what with cloth-yard shafts for your +body, and bell, book and candle for your soul, it was no very cheerful +outlook. But here is the very dame herself, if I mistake not." + +It was indeed the formidable figure of the Lady Ermyntrude, gaunt, +bowed and leaning on her staff, which had emerged from the door of the +manor-house and advanced to greet them. She croaked with laughter, and +shook her stick at the great building as she heard of the discomfiture +of the Abbey court. Then she led the way into the hall where the best +which she could provide had been laid out for their illustrious guest. +There was Chandos blood in her own veins, traceable back through the de +Greys, de Multons, de Valences, de Montagues and other high and noble +strains, so that the meal had been eaten and cleared before she had done +tracing the network of intermarriages and connections, with quarterings, +impalements, lozenges and augmentations by which the blazonry of the two +families might be made to show a common origin. Back to the Conquest and +before it there was not a noble family-tree every twig and bud of which +was not familiar to the Dame Ermyntrude. + +And now when the trestles were cleared and the three were left alone in +the hall, Chandos broke his message to the lady. "King Edward hath ever +borne in mind that noble knight your son Sir Eustace," said he. "He will +journey to Southampton next week, and I am his harbinger. He bade me +say, noble and honored lady, that he would come from Guildford in any +easy stage so that he might spend one night under your roof." + +The old dame flushed with pleasure, and then turned white with vexation +at the words. "It is in truth great honor to the house of Loring," said +she, "yet our roof is now humble and, as you have seen, our fare is +plain. The King knows not that we are so poor. I fear lest we seem +churlish and niggard in his eyes." + +But Chandos reasoned away her fears. The King's retinue would journey +on to Farnham Castle. There were no ladies in his party. Though he was +King, still he was a hardy soldier, and cared little for his ease. In +any case, since he had declared his coming, they must make the best +of it. Finally, with all delicacy, Chandos offered his own purse if it +would help in the matter. But already the Lady Ermyntrude had recovered +her composure. + +"Nay, fair kinsman, that may not be," said she. "I will make such +preparation as I may for the King. He will bear in mind that if the +house of Loring can give nothing else, they have always held their blood +and their lives at his disposal." + +Chandos was to ride on to Farnham Castle and beyond, but he expressed +his desire to have a warm bath ere he left Tilford, for like most of his +fellow-knights, he was much addicted to simmering in the hottest +water that he could possibly endure. The bath therefore, a high hooped +arrangement like a broader but shorter churn, was carried into the +privacy of the guest-chamber, and thither it was that Nigel was summoned +to hold him company while he stewed and sweltered in his tub. + +Nigel perched himself upon the side of the high bed, swinging his legs +over the edge and gazing with wonder and amusement at the quaint face, +the ruffled yellow hair, and the sinewy shoulders of the famous warrior, +dimly seen amid a pillar of steam. He was in a mood for talk; so Nigel +with eager lips plied him with a thousand questions about the wars, +hanging upon every word which came back to him, like those of the +ancient oracles, out of the mist and the cloud. To Chandos himself, the +old soldier for whom war had lost its freshness, it was a renewal of his +own ardent youth to listen to Nigel's rapid questions and to mark the +rapt attention with which he listened. + +"Tell me of the Welsh, honored sir," asked the Squire. "What manner of +soldiers are the Welsh?" + +"They are very valiant men of war," said Chandos, splashing about in his +tub. "There is good skirmishing to be had in their valleys if you ride +with a small following. They flare up like a furzebush in the flames, +but if for a short space you may abide the heat of it, then there is a +chance that it may be cooler." + +"And the Scotch?" asked Nigel. "You have made war upon them also, as I +understand." + +"The Scotch knights have no masters in the world, and he who can hold +his own with the best of them, be it a Douglas, a Murray or a Seaton, +has nothing more to learn. Though you be a hard man, you will always +meet as hard a one if you ride northward. If the Welsh be like the furze +fire, then, pardieu! the Scotch are the peat, for they will smolder and +you will never come to the end of them. I have had many happy hours +on the marches of Scotland, for even if there be no war the Percies of +Alnwick or the Governor of Carlisle can still raise a little bickering +with the border clans." + +"I bear in mind that my father was wont to say that they were very stout +spearmen." + +"No better in the world, for the spears are twelve foot long and they +hold them in very thick array; but their archers are weak, save only the +men of Ettrick and Selkirk who come from the forest. I pray you to open +the lattice, Nigel, for the steam is overthick. Now in Wales it is the +spearmen who are weak, and there are no archers in these islands like +the men of Gwent with their bows of elm, which shoot with such power +that I have known a cavalier to have his horse killed when the shaft +had passed through his mail breeches, his thigh and his saddle. And yet, +what is the most strongly shot arrow to these new balls of iron driven +by the fire-powder which will crush a man's armor as an egg is crushed +by a stone? Our fathers knew them not." + +"Then the better for us," cried Nigel, "since there is at least one +honorable venture which is all our own." + +Chandos chuckled and turned upon the flushed youth a twinkling and +sympathetic eye. "You have a fashion of speech which carries me back to +the old men whom I met in my boyhood," said he. "There were some of the +real old knight-errants left in those days, and they spoke as you do. +Young as you are, you belong to another age. Where got you that trick of +thought and word?" + +"I have had only one to teach me, the Lady Ermyntrude." + +"Pardieu! she has trained a proper young hawk ready to stoop at a lordly +quarry," said Chandos. "I would that I had the first unhooding of you. +Will you not ride with me to the wars?" + +The tears brimmed over from Nigel's eyes, and he wrung the gaunt hand +extended from the bath. "By Saint Paul! what could I ask better in the +world? I fear to leave her, for she has none other to care for her. But +if it can in any way be arranged--" + +"The King's hand may smooth it out. Say no more until he is here. But if +you wish to ride with me--" + +"What could man wish for more? Is there a Squire in England who would +not serve under the banner of Chandos! Whither do you go, fair sir? And +when do you go? Is it to Scotland? Is it to Ireland? Is it to France? +But alas, alas!" + +The eager face had clouded. For the instant he had forgotten that a suit +of armor was as much beyond his means as a service of gold plate. Down +in a twinkling came all his high hopes to the ground. Oh, these sordid +material things, which come between our dreams and their fulfilment! The +Squire of such a knight must dress with the best. Yet all the fee simple +of Tilford would scarce suffice for one suit of plate. + +Chandos, with his quick wit and knowledge of the world, had guessed the +cause of this sudden change. "If you fight under my banner it is for me +to find the weapons," said he. "Nay, I will not be denied." + +But Nigel shook his head sadly. "It may not be. The Lady Ermyntrude +would sell this old house and every acre round it, ere she would permit +me to accept this gracious bounty which you offer. Yet I do not despair, +for only last week I won for myself a noble war-horse for which I paid +not a penny, so perchance a suit of armor may also come my way." + +"And how won you the horse?" + +"It was given me by the monks of Waverley." + +"This is wonderful. Pardieu! I should have expected, from what I had +seen, that they would have given you little save their malediction." + +"They had no use for the horse, and they gave it to me." + +"Then we have only to find some one who has no use for a suit of armor +and will give it to you. Yet I trust that you will think better of it +and let me, since that good lady proves that I am your kinsman, fit you +for the wars." + +"I thank you, noble sir, and if I should turn to anyone it would indeed +be to you; but there are other ways which I would try first. But I pray +you, good Sir John, to tell me of some of your noble spear-runnings +against the French, for the whole land rings with the tale of your deeds +and I have heard that in one morning three champions have fallen before +your lance. Was it not so?" + +"That it was indeed so these scars upon my body will prove; but these +were the follies of my youth." + +"How can you call them follies? Are they not the means by which +honorable advancement may be gained and one's lady exalted?" + +"It is right that you should think so, Nigel. At your age a man should +have a hot head and a high heart. I also had both and fought for my +lady's glove or for my vow or for the love of fighting. But as one grows +older and commands men one has other things to think of. One thinks less +of one's own honor and more of the safety of the army. It is not your +own spear, your own sword, your own arm, which will turn the tide of +fight; but a cool head may save a stricken field. He who knows when his +horsemen should charge and when they should fight on foot, he who can +mix his archers with his men-at-arms in such a fashion that each can +support the other, he who can hold up his reserve and pour it into the +battle when it may turn the tide, he who has a quick eye for boggy land +and broken ground--that is the man who is of more worth to an army than +Roland, Oliver and all the paladins." + +"Yet if his knights fail him, honored sir, all his head-work will not +prevail." + +"True enough, Nigel; so may every Squire ride to the wars with his soul +on fire, as yours is now. But I must linger no longer, for the King's +service must be done. I will dress, and when I have bid farewell to the +noble Dame Ermyntrude I will on to Farnham; but you will see me here +again on the day that the King comes." + +So Chandos went his way that evening, walking his horse through the +peaceful lanes and twanging his citole as he went, for he loved music +and was famous for his merry songs. The cottagers came from their huts +and laughed and clapped as the rich full voice swelled and sank to the +cheery tinkling of the strings. There were few who saw him pass that +would have guessed that the quaint one-eyed man with the yellow hair was +the toughest fighter and craftiest man of war in Europe. Once only, as +he entered Farnham, an old broken man-at-arms ran out in his rags and +clutched at his horse as a dog gambols round his master. Chandos threw +him a kind word and a gold coin as he passed on to the castle. + +In the meanwhile young Nigel and the Lady Ermyntrude, left alone with +their difficulties, looked blankly in each other's faces. + +"The cellar is well nigh empty," said Nigel. "There are two firkins of +small beer and a tun of canary. How can we set such drink before the +King and his court?" + +"We must have some wine of Bordeaux. With that and the mottled cow's +calf and the fowls and a goose, we can set forth a sufficient repast if +he stays only for the one night. How many will be with him?" + +"A dozen, at the least." + +The old dame wrung her hands in despair. "Nay, take it not to heart, +dear lady!" said Nigel. "We have but to say the word and the King would +stop at Waverley, where he and his court would find all that they could +wish." + +"Never!" cried the Lady Ermyntrude. "It would be shame and disgrace to +us forever if the King were to pass our door when he has graciously said +that he was fain to enter in. Nay, I will do it. Never did I think that +I would be forced to this, but I know that he would wish it, and I will +do it." + +She went to the old iron coffer, and taking a small key from her girdle +she unlocked it. The rusty hinges, screaming shrilly as she threw back +the lid, proclaimed how seldom it was that she had penetrated into the +sacred recesses of her treasure-chest. At the top were some relics of +old finery: a silken cloak spangled with golden stars, a coif of silver +filigree, a roll of Venetian lace. Beneath were little packets tied in +silk which the old lady handled with tender care: a man's hunting-glove, +a child's shoe, a love-knot done in faded green ribbon, some letters in +rude rough script, and a vernicle of Saint Thomas. Then from the very +bottom of the box she drew three objects, swathed in silken cloth, which +she uncovered and laid upon the table. The one was a bracelet of rough +gold studded with uncut rubies, the second was a gold salver, and the +third was a high goblet of the same metal. + +"You have heard me speak of these, Nigel, but never before have you seen +them, for indeed I have not opened the hutch for fear that we might be +tempted in our great need to turn them into money. I have kept them out +of my sight and even out of my thoughts. But now it is the honor of the +house which calls, and even these must go. This goblet was that which my +husband, Sir Nele Loring, won after the intaking of Belgrade when he and +his comrades held the lists from matins to vespers against the flower of +the French chivalry. The salver was given him by the Earl of Pembroke in +memory of his valor upon the field of Falkirk." + +"And the bracelet, dear lady?" + +"You will not laugh, Nigel?" + +"Nay, why should I laugh?" + +"The bracelet was the prize for the Queen of Beauty which was given to +me before all the high-born ladies of England by Sir Nele Loring a month +before our marriage--the Queen of Beauty, Nigel--I, old and twisted, as +you see me. Five strong men went down before his lance ere he won that +trinket for me. And now in my last years--" + +"Nay, dear and honored lady, we will not part with it." + +"Yes, Nigel, he would have it so. I can hear his whisper in my ear. +Honor to him was everything--the rest nothing. Take it from me, Nigel, +ere my heart weakens. To-morrow you will ride with it to Guildford; you +will see Thorold the goldsmith; and you will raise enough money to pay +for all that we shall need for the King's coming." She turned her face +away to hide the quivering of her wrinkled features, and the crash of +the iron lid covered the sob which burst from her overwrought soul. + + + + +VII. HOW NIGEL WENT MARKETING TO GUILDFORD + + +It was on a bright June morning that young Nigel, with youth and +springtime to make his heart light, rode upon his errand from Tilford +to Guildford town. Beneath him was his great yellow warhorse, caracoling +and curveting as he went, as blithe and free of spirit as his master. +In all England one would scarce have found upon that morning so +high-mettled and so debonair a pair. The sandy road wound through groves +of fir, where the breeze came soft and fragrant with resinous gums, or +over heathery downs, which rolled away to north and to south, vast and +untenanted, for on the uplands the soil was poor and water scarce. +Over Crooksbury Common he passed, and then across the great Heath of +Puttenham, following a sandy path which wound amid the bracken and +the heather, for he meant to strike the Pilgrims' Way where it turned +eastward from Farnham and from Seale. As he rode he continually felt his +saddle-bag with his hand, for in it, securely strapped, he had placed +the precious treasures of the Lady Ermyntrude. As he saw the grand tawny +neck tossing before him, and felt the easy heave of the great horse and +heard the muffled drumming of his hoofs, he could have sung and shouted +with the joy of living. + +Behind him, upon the little brown pony which had been Nigel's former +mount, rode Samkin Aylward the bowman, who had taken upon himself the +duties of personal attendant and body-guard. His great shoulders and +breadth of frame seemed dangerously top-heavy upon the tiny steed, +but he ambled along, whistling a merry lilt and as lighthearted as his +master. There was no countryman who had not a nod and no woman who had +not a smile for the jovial bowman, who rode for the most part with his +face over his shoulder, staring at the last petticoat which had passed +him. Once only he met with a harsher greeting. It was from a tall, +white-headed, red-faced man whom they met upon the moor. + +"Good-morrow, dear father!" cried Aylward. "How is it with you at +Crooksbury? And how are the new black cow and the ewes from Alton and +Mary the dairymaid and all your gear?" + +"It ill becomes you to ask, you ne'er-do-weel," said the old man. "You +have angered the monks of Waverley, whose tenant I am, and they would +drive me out of my farm. Yet there are three more years to run, and +do what they may I will bide till then. But little did I think that I +should lose my homestead through you, Samkin, and big as you are I would +knock the dust out of that green jerkin with a good hazel switch if I +had you at Crooksbury." + +"Then you shall do it to-morrow morning, good father, for I will come +and see you then. But indeed I did not do more at Waverley than you +would have done yourself. Look me in the eye, old hothead, and tell +me if you would have stood by while the last Loring--look at him as he +rides with his head in the air and his soul in the clouds--was shot down +before your very eyes at the bidding of that fat monk! If you would, +then I disown you as my father." + +"Nay, Samkin, if it was like that, then perhaps what you did was not so +far amiss. But it is hard to lose the old farm when my heart is buried +deep in the good brown soil." + +"Tut, man! there are three years to run, and what may not happen in +three years? Before that time I shall have gone to the wars, and when I +have opened a French strong box or two you can buy the good brown soil +and snap your fingers at Abbot John and his bailiffs. Am I not as proper +a man as Tom Withstaff of Churt? And yet he came back after six months +with his pockets full of rose nobles and a French wench on either arm." + +"God preserve us from the wenches, Samkin! But indeed I think that if +there is money to be gathered you are as likely to get your fist full as +any man who goes to the war. But hasten, lad, hasten! Already your young +master is over the brow." + +Thus admonished, the archer waved his gauntleted hand to his father, and +digging his heels into the sides of his little pony soon drew up with +the Squire. Nigel glanced over his shoulder and slackened speed until +the pony's head was up to his saddle. + +"Have I not heard, archer," said he, "that an outlaw has been loose in +these parts?" + +"It is true, fair sir. He was villain to Sir Peter Mandeville, but he +broke his bonds and fled into the forests. Men call him the 'Wild Man of +Puttenham.'" + +"How comes it that he has not been hunted down? If the man be a +draw-latch and a robber it would be an honorable deed to clear the +country of such an evil." + +"Twice the sergeants-at-arms from Guildford have come out against him, +but the fox has many earths, and it would puzzle you to get him out of +them." + +"By Saint Paul! were my errand not a pressing one I would be tempted to +turn aside and seek him. Where lives he, then?" + +"There is a great morass beyond Puttenham, and across it there are caves +in which he and his people lurk." + +"His people? He hath a band?" + +"There are several with him." + +"It sounds a most honorable enterprise," said Nigel. "When the King hath +come and gone we will spare a day for the outlaws of Puttenham. I fear +there is little chance for us to see them on this journey." + +"They prey upon the pilgrims who pass along the Winchester Road, and +they are well loved by the folk in these parts, for they rob none of +them and have an open hand for all who will help them." + +"It is right easy to have an open hand with the money that you have +stolen," said Nigel; "but I fear that they will not try to rob two men +with swords at their girdles like you and me, so we shall have no profit +from them." + +They had passed over the wild moors and had come down now into the main +road by which the pilgrims from the west of England made their way to +the national shrine at Canterbury. It passed from Winchester, and up the +beautiful valley of the Itchen until it reached Farnham, where it forked +into two branches, one of which ran along the Hog's Back, while the +second wound to the south and came out at Saint Catherine's Hill where +stands the Pilgrim shrine, a gray old ruin now, but once so august, so +crowded and so affluent. It was this second branch upon which Nigel and +Aylward found themselves as they rode to Guildford. + +No one, as it chanced, was going the same way as themselves, but they +met one large drove of pilgrims returning from their journey with +pictures of Saint Thomas and snails' shells or little leaden ampullae +in their hats and bundles of purchases over their shoulders. They were a +grimy, ragged, travel-stained crew, the men walking, the women borne +on asses. Man and beast, they limped along as if it would be a glad +day when they saw their homes once more. These and a few beggars or +minstrels, who crouched among the heather on either side of the track +in the hope of receiving an occasional farthing from the passer-by, were +the only folk they met until they had reached the village of Puttenham. +Already there, was a hot sun and just breeze enough to send the dust +flying down the road, so they were glad to clear their throats with a +glass of beer at the ale-stake in the village, where the fair alewife +gave Nigel a cold farewell because he had no attentions for her, and +Aylward a box on the ear because he had too many. + +On the farther side of Puttenham the road runs through thick woods of +oak and beech, with a tangled undergrowth of fern and bramble. Here they +met a patrol of sergeants-at-arms, tall fellows, well-mounted, clad in +studded-leather caps and tunics, with lances and swords. They walked +their horses slowly on the shady side of the road, and stopped as the +travelers came up, to ask if they had been molested on the way. + +"Have a care," they added, "for the 'Wild Man' and his wife are out. +Only yesterday they slew a merchant from the west and took a hundred +crowns." + +"His wife, you say?" + +"Yes, she is ever at his side, and has saved him many a time, for if he +has the strength it is she who has the wit. I hope to see their heads +together upon the green grass one of these mornings." + +The patrol passed downward toward Farnham, and so, as it proved, away +from the robbers, who had doubtless watched them closely from the +dense brushwood which skirted the road. Coming round a curve, Nigel and +Aylward were aware of a tall and graceful woman who sat, wringing her +hands and weeping bitterly, upon the bank by the side of the track. At +such a sight of beauty in distress Nigel pricked Pommers with the spur +and in three bounds was at the side of the unhappy lady. + +"What ails you, fair dame?" he asked. "Is there any small matter in +which I may stand your friend, or is it possible that anyone hath so +hard a heart as to do you an injury." + +She rose and turned upon him a face full of hope and entreaty. "Oh, +save my poor, poor father!" she cried. "Have you perchance seen the +way-wardens? They passed us, and I fear they are beyond reach." + +"Yes, they have ridden onward, but we may serve as well." + +"Then hasten, hasten, I pray you! Even now they may be doing him to +death. They have dragged him into yonder grove and I have heard his +voice growing ever weaker in the distance. Hasten, I implore you!" + +Nigel sprang from his horse and tossed the rein to Aylward. + +"Nay, let us go together. How many robbers were there, lady?" + +"Two stout fellows." + +"Then I come also." + +"Nay, it is not possible," said Nigel. "The wood is too thick for +horses, and we cannot leave them in the road." + +"I will guard them," cried the lady. + +"Pommers is not so easily held. Do you bide here, Aylward, until you +hear from me. Stir not, I command you!" So saying, Nigel, with the +light, of adventure gleaming in his joyous eyes, drew his sword and +plunged swiftly into the forest. + +Far and fast he ran, from glade to glade, breaking through the bushes, +springing over the brambles, light as a young deer, peering this way and +that, straining his ears for a sound, and catching only the cry of the +wood-pigeons. Still on he went, with the constant thought of the weeping +woman behind and of the captured man in front. It was not until he was +footsore and out of breath that he stopped with his hand to his side, +and considered that his own business had still to be done, and that it +was time once more that he should seek the road to Guildford. + +Meantime Aylward had found his own rough means of consoling the woman in +the road, who stood sobbing with her face against the side of Pommers' +saddle. + +"Nay, weep not, my pretty one," said he. "It brings the tears to my own +eyes to see them stream from thine." + +"Alas! good archer, he was the best of fathers, so gentle and so kind! +Had you but known him, you must have loved him." + +"Tut, tut! he will suffer no scathe. Squire Nigel will bring him back to +you anon." + +"No, no, I shall never see him more. Hold me, archer, or I fall!" + +Aylward pressed his ready arm round the supple waist. The fainting woman +leaned with her hand upon his shoulder. Her pale face looked past +him, and it was some new light in her eyes, a flash of expectancy, of +triumph, of wicked joy, which gave him sudden warning of his danger. + +He shook her off and sprang to one side, but only just in time to avoid +a crashing blow from a great club in the hands of a man even taller +and stronger than himself. He had one quick vision of great white teeth +clenched in grim ferocity, a wild flying beard and blazing wild-beast +eyes. The next instant he had closed, ducking his head beneath another +swing of that murderous cudgel. + +With his arms round the robber's burly body and his face buried in his +bushy beard, Aylward gasped and strained and heaved. Back and forward +in the dusty road the two men stamped and staggered, a grim +wrestling-match, with life for the prize. Twice the great strength of +the outlaw had Aylward nearly down, and twice with his greater youth +and skill the archer restored his grip and his balance. Then at last +his turn came. He slipped his leg behind the other's knee, and, giving +a mighty wrench, tore him across it. With a hoarse shout the outlaw +toppled backward and had hardly reached the ground before Aylward +had his knee upon his chest and his short sword deep in his beard and +pointed to his throat. + +"By these ten finger-bones!" he gasped, "one more struggle and it is +your last!" + +The man lay still enough, for he was half-stunned by the crashing fall. +Aylward looked round him, but the woman had disappeared. At the first +blow struck she had vanished into the forest. He began to have fears for +his master, thinking that he perhaps had been lured into some deathtrap; +but his forebodings were soon at rest, for Nigel himself came hastening +down the road, which he had struck some distance from the spot where he +left it. + +"By Saint Paul!" he cried, "who is this man on whom you are perched, and +where is the lady who has honored us so far as to crave our help? Alas, +that I have been unable to find her father!" + +"As well for you, fair sir," said Aylward, "for I am of opinion that her +father was the Devil. This woman is, as I believe, the wife of the 'Wild +Man of Puttenham,' and this is the 'Wild Man' himself who set upon me +and tried to brain me with his club." + +The outlaw, who had opened his eyes, looked with a scowl from his captor +to the new-comer. "You are in luck, archer," said he, "for I have come +to grips with many a man, but I cannot call to mind any who have had the +better of me." + +"You have indeed the grip of a bear," said Aylward; "but it was a coward +deed that your wife should hold me while you dashed out my brains with +a stick. It is also a most villainous thing to lay a snare for wayfarers +by asking for their pity and assistance, so that it was our own soft +hearts which brought us into such danger. The next who hath real need of +our help may suffer for your sins." + +"When the hand of the whole world is against you," said the outlaw in a +surly voice, "you must fight as best you can." + +"You well deserve to be hanged, if only because you have brought this +woman, who is fair and gentle-spoken, to such a life," said Nigel. "Let +us tie him by the wrist to my stirrup leather, Aylward, and we will lead +him into Guildford." + +The archer drew a spare bowstring from his case and had bound the +prisoner as directed, when Nigel gave a sudden start and cry of alarm. + +"Holy Mary!" he cried. "Where is the saddle-bag?" + +It had been cut away by a sharp knife. Only the two ends of strap +remained. Aylward and Nigel stared at each other in blank dismay. Then +the young Squire shook his clenched hands and pulled at his yellow curls +in his despair. + +"The Lady Ermyntrude's bracelet! My grandfather's cup!" he cried. "I +would have died ere I lost them! What can I say to her? I dare not +return until I have found them. Oh, Aylward, Aylward! how came you to +let them be taken?" + +The honest archer had pushed back his steel cap and was scratching his +tangled head. "Nay, I know nothing of it. You never said that there was +aught of price in the bag, else had I kept a better eye upon it. Certes! +it was not this fellow who took it, since I have never had my hands from +him. It can only be the woman who fled with it while we fought." + +Nigel stamped about the road in his perplexity. "I would follow her to +the world's end if I knew where I could find her, but to search these +woods for her is to look for a mouse in a wheat-field. Good Saint +George, thou who didst overcome the Dragon, I pray you by that most +honorable and knightly achievement that you will be with me now! And +you also, great Saint Julian, patron of all wayfarers in distress! Two +candles shall burn before your shrine at Godalming, if you will but +bring me back my saddle-bag. What would I not give to have it back?" + +"Will you give me my life?" asked the outlaw. "Promise that I go free, +and you shall have it back, if it be indeed true that my wife has taken +it." + +"Nay, I cannot do that," said Nigel. "My honor would surely be +concerned, since my loss is a private one; but it would be to the public +scathe that you should go free. By Saint Paul! it would be an ungentle +deed if in order to save my own I let you loose upon the gear of a +hundred others." + +"I will not ask you to let me loose," said the "Wild Man." "If you will +promise that my life be spared I will restore your bag." + +"I cannot give such a promise, for it will lie with the Sheriff and +reeves of Guildford." + +"Shall I have your word in my favor?" + +"That I could promise you, if you will give back the bag, though I know +not how far my word may avail. But your words are vain, for you cannot +think that we will be so fond as to let you go in the hope that you +return?" + +"I would not ask it," said the "Wild Man," "for I can get your bag and +yet never stir from the spot where I stand. Have I your promise upon +your honor and all that you hold dear that you will ask for grace?" + +"You have." + +"And that my wife shall be unharmed?" + +"I promise it." + +The outlaw laid back his head and uttered a long shrill cry like the +howl of a wolf. There was a silent pause, and then, clear and shrill, +there rose the same cry no great distance away in the forest. Again the +"Wild Man" called, and again his mate replied. A third time he summoned, +as the deer bells to the doe in the greenwood. Then with a rustle of +brushwood and snapping of twigs the woman was before them once more, +tall, pale, graceful, wonderful. She glanced neither at Aylward nor +Nigel, but ran to the side of her husband. + +"Dear and sweet lord," she cried, "I trust they have done you no hurt. I +waited by the old ash, and my heart sank when you came not." + +"I have been taken at last, wife." + +"Oh, cursed, cursed day! Let him go, kind, gentle sirs; do not take him +from me!" + +"They will speak for me at Guildford," said the "Wild Man." "They have +sworn it. But hand them first the bag that you have taken." + +She drew it out from under her loose cloak. "Here it is, gentle sir. +Indeed it went to my heart to take it, for you had mercy upon me in my +trouble. But now I am, as you see, in real and very sore distress. Will +you not have mercy now? Take ruth on us, fair sir! On my knees I beg it +of you, most gentle and kindly Squire!" + +Nigel had clutched his bag, and right glad he was to feel that the +treasures were all safe within it. "My proffer is given," said he. "I +will say what I can; but the issue rests with others. I pray you to +stand up, for indeed I cannot promise more." + +"Then I must be content," said she, rising, with a composed face. "I +have prayed you to take ruth, and indeed I can do no more; but ere I go +back to the forest I would rede you to be on your guard lest you lose +your bag once more. Wot you how I took it, archer? Nay, it was simple +enough, and may happen again, so I make it clear to you. I had this +knife in my sleeve, and though it is small it is very sharp. I slipped +it down like this. Then when I seemed to weep with my face against the +saddle, I cut down like this--" + +In an instant she had shorn through the stirrup leather which bound her +man, and he, diving under the belly of the horse, had slipped like a +snake into the brushwood. In passing he had struck Pommers from beneath, +and the great horse, enraged and insulted, was rearing high, with two +men hanging to his bridle. When at last he had calmed there was no sign +left of the "Wild Man" or of his wife. In vain did Aylward, an arrow on +his string, run here and there among the great trees and peer down the +shadowy glades. When he returned he and his master cast a shamefaced +glance at each other. + +"I trust that we are better soldiers than jailers," said Aylward, as he +climbed on his pony. + +But Nigel's frown relaxed into a smile. "At least we have gained back +what we lost," said he. "Here I place it on the pommel of my saddle, and +I shall not take my eyes from it until we are safe in Guildford town." + +So they jogged on together until passing Saint Catherine's shrine they +crossed the winding Wey once more, and so found themselves in the steep +high street with its heavy-caved gabled houses, its monkish hospitium +upon the left, where good ale may still be quaffed, and its great +square-keeped castle upon the right, no gray and grim skeleton of ruin, +but very quick and alert, with blazoned banner flying free, and steel +caps twinkling from the battlement. A row of booths extended from the +castle gate to the high street, and two doors from the Church of the +Trinity was that of Thorold the goldsmith, a rich burgess and Mayor of +the town. + +He looked long and lovingly at the rich rubies and at the fine work +upon the goblet. Then he stroked his flowing gray beard as he pondered +whether he should offer fifty nobles or sixty, for he knew well that he +could sell them again for two hundred. If he offered too much his profit +would be reduced. If he offered too little the youth might go as far as +London with them, for they were rare and of great worth. The young man +was ill-clad, and his eyes were anxious. Perchance he was hard pressed +and was ignorant of the value of what he bore. He would sound him. + +"These things are old and out of fashion, fair sir," said he. "Of the +stones I can scarce say if they are of good quality or not, but they are +dull and rough. Yet, if your price be low I may add them to my stock, +though indeed this booth was made to sell and not to buy. What do you +ask?" + +Nigel bent his brows in perplexity. Here was a game in which neither +his bold heart nor his active limbs could help him. It was the new +force mastering the old: the man of commerce conquering the man of +war--wearing him down and weakening him through the centuries until he +had him as his bond-servant and his thrall. + +"I know not what to ask, good sir," said Nigel. "It is not for me, nor +for any man who bears my name, to chaffer and to haggle. You know +the worth of these things, for it is your trade to do so. The Lady +Ermyntrude lacks money, and we must have it against the King's coming, +so give me that which is right and just, and we will say no more." + +The goldsmith smiled. The business was growing more simple and more +profitable. He had intended to offer fifty, but surely it would be +sinful waste to give more than twenty-five. + +"I shall scarce know what to do with them when I have them," said he. +"Yet I should not grudge twenty nobles if it is a matter in which the +King is concerned." + +Nigel's heart turned to lead. This sum would not buy one-half what +was needful. It was clear that the Lady Ermyntrude had overvalued her +treasures. Yet he could not return empty-handed, so if twenty nobles +was the real worth, as this good old man assured him, then he must be +thankful and take it. + +"I am concerned by what you say," said he. "You know more of these +things than I can do. However, I will take--" + +"A hundred and fifty," whispered Aylward's voice in his ear. + +"A hundred and fifty," said Nigel, only too relieved to have found the +humblest guide upon these unwonted paths. + +The goldsmith started. This youth was not the simple soldier that he +had seemed. That frank face, those blue eyes, were traps for the unwary. +Never had he been more taken aback in a bargain. + +"This is fond talk and can lead to nothing, fair sir," said he, turning +away and fiddling with the keys of his strong boxes. "Yet I have no wish +to be hard on you. Take my outside price, which is fifty nobles." + +"And a hundred," whispered Aylward. + +"And a hundred," said Nigel, blushing at his own greed. + +"Well, well, take a hundred!" cried the merchant. "Fleece me, skin me, +leave me a loser, and take for your wares the full hundred!" + +"I should be shamed forever if I were to treat you so badly," said +Nigel. "You have spoken me fair, and I would not grind you down. +Therefore, I will gladly take one hundred--" + +"And fifty," whispered Aylward. + +"And fifty," said Nigel. + +"By Saint John of Beverley!" cried the merchant. "I came hither from the +North Country, and they are said to be shrewd at a deal in those parts; +but I had rather bargain with a synagogue full of Jews than with you, +for all your gentle ways. Will you indeed take no less than a hundred +and fifty? Alas! you pluck from me my profits of a month. It is a fell +morning's work for me. I would I had never seen you!" With groans and +lamentations he paid the gold pieces across the counter, and Nigel, +hardly able to credit his own good fortune, gathered them into the +leather saddle-bag. + +A moment later with flushed face he was in the street and pouring out +his thanks to Aylward. + +"Alas, my fair lord! the man has robbed us now," said the archer. "We +could have had another twenty had we stood fast." + +"How know you that, good Aylward?" + +"By his eyes, Squire Loring. I wot I have little store of reading where +the parchment of a book or the pinching of a blazon is concerned, but I +can read men's eyes, and I never doubted that he would give what he has +given." + +The two travelers had dinner at the monk's hospitium, Nigel at the high +table and Aylward among the commonalty. Then again they roamed the high +street on business intent. Nigel bought taffeta for hangings, wine, +preserves, fruit, damask table linen and many other articles of need. At +last he halted before the armorer's shop at the castle-yard, staring at +the fine suits of plate, the engraved pectorals, the plumed helmets, the +cunningly jointed gorgets, as a child at a sweet-shop. + +"Well, Squire Loring," said Wat the armorer, looking sidewise from the +furnace where he was tempering a sword blade, "what can I sell you this +morning? I swear to you by Tubal Cain, the father of all workers in +metal, that you might go from end to end of Cheapside and never see a +better suit than that which hangs from yonder hook!" + +"And the price, armorer?" + +"To anyone else, two hundred and fifty rose nobles. To you two hundred." + +"And why cheaper to me, good fellow?" + +"Because I fitted your father also for the wars, and a finer suit never +went out of my shop. I warrant that it turned many an edge before he +laid it aside. We worked in mail in those days, and I had as soon have a +well-made thick-meshed mail as any plates; but a young knight will be +in the fashion like any dame of the court, and so it must be plate now, +even though the price be trebled." + +"Your rede is that the mail is as good?" + +"I am well sure of it." + +"Hearken then, armorer! I cannot at this moment buy a suit of plate, and +yet I sorely need steel harness on account of a small deed which it is +in my mind to do. Now I have at my home at Tilford that very suit of +mail of which you speak, with which my father first rode to the wars. +Could you not so alter it that it should guard my limbs also?" + +The armorer looked at Nigel's small upright figure and burst out +laughing. "You jest, Squire Loring! The suit was made for one who was +far above the common stature of man." + +"Nay, I jest not. If it will but carry me through one spear-running it +will have served its purpose." + +The armorer leaned back on his anvil and pondered while Nigel stared +anxiously at his sooty face. + +"Right gladly would I lend you a suit of plate for this one venture, +Squire Loring, but I know well that if you should be overthrown your +harness becomes prize to the victor. I am a poor man with many children, +and I dare not risk the loss of it. But as to what you say of the old +suit of mail, is it indeed in good condition?" + +"Most excellent, save only at the neck, which is much frayed." + +"To shorten the limbs is easy. It is but to cut out a length of the mail +and then loop up the links. But to shorten the body--nay, that is beyond +the armorer's art." + +"It was my last hope. Nay, good armorer, if you have indeed served and +loved my gallant father, then I beg you by his memory that you will help +me now." + +The armorer threw down his heavy hammer with a crash upon the floor. "It +is not only that I loved your father, Squire Loring, but it is that I +have seen you, half armed as you were, ride against the best of them at +the Castle tiltyard. Last Martinmas my heart bled for you when I saw how +sorry was your harness, and yet you held your own against the stout Sir +Oliver with his Milan suit: When go you to Tilford?" + +"Even now." + +"Heh, Jenkin, fetch out the cob!" cried the worthy Wat. "May my right +hand lose its cunning if I do not send you into battle in your father's +suit! To-morrow I must be back in my booth, but to-day I give to you +without fee and for the sake of the good-will which I bear to your +house. I will ride with you to Tilford, and before night you shall see +what Wat can do." + +So it came about that there was a busy evening at the old Tilford +Manor-house, where the Lady Ermyntrude planned and cut and hung the +curtains for the hall, and stocked her cupboards with the good things +which Nigel had brought from Guildford. + +Meanwhile the Squire and the armorer sat with their heads touching and +the old suit of mail with its gorget of overlapping plates laid out +across their knees. Again and again old Wat shrugged his shoulders, as +one who has been asked to do more than can be demanded from mortal man. +At last, at a suggestion from the Squire, he leaned back in his +chair and laughed long and loudly in his bushy beard, while the Lady +Ermyntrude glared her black displeasure at such plebeian merriment. +Then taking his fine chisel and his hammer from his pouch of tools, +the armorer, still chuckling at his own thoughts, began to drive a hole +through the center of the steel tunic. + + + + +VIII. HOW THE KING HAWKED ON CROOKSBURY HEATH + + +The King and his attendants had shaken off the crowd who had followed +them from Guildford along the Pilgrims' Way and now, the mounted archers +having beaten off the more persistent of the spectators, they rode +at their ease in a long, straggling, glittering train over the dark +undulating plain of heather. + +In the van was the King himself, for his hawks were with him and he had +some hope of sport. Edward at that time was a well-grown, vigorous man +in the very prime of his years, a keen sportsman, an ardent gallant +and a chivalrous soldier. He was a scholar too, speaking Latin, French, +German, Spanish, and even a little English. + +So much had long been patent to the world, but only of recent years had +he shown other and more formidable characteristics: a restless ambition +which coveted his neighbor's throne, and a wise foresight in matters +of commerce, which engaged him now in transplanting Flemish weavers and +sowing the seeds of what for many years was the staple trade of England. +Each of these varied qualities might have been read upon his face. The +brow, shaded by a crimson cap of maintenance, was broad and lofty. The +large brown eyes were ardent and bold. His chin was clean-shaven, and +the close-cropped dark mustache did not conceal the strong mouth, firm, +proud and kindly, but capable of setting tight in merciless ferocity. +His complexion was tanned to copper by a life spent in field sports or +in war, and he rode his magnificent black horse carelessly and easily, +as one who has grown up in the saddle. His own color was black also, for +his active; sinewy figure was set off by close-fitting velvet of that +hue, broken only by a belt of gold, and by a golden border of open pods +of the broom-plant. + +With his high and noble bearing, his simple yet rich attire and his +splendid mount, he looked every inch a King. + +The picture of gallant man on gallant horse was completed by the noble +Falcon of the Isles which fluttered along some twelve feet above his +head, "waiting on," as it was termed, for any quarry which might arise. +The second bird of the cast was borne upon the gauntleted wrist of Raoul +the chief falconer in the rear. + +At the right side of the monarch and a little behind him rode a youth +some twenty years of age, tall, slim and dark, with noble aquiline +features and keen penetrating eyes which sparkled with vivacity and +affection as he answered the remarks of the King. He was clad in deep +crimson diapered with gold, and the trappings of his white palfrey were +of a magnificence which proclaimed the rank of its rider. On his face, +still free from mustache or beard, there sat a certain gravity and +majesty of expression which showed that young as he was great affairs +had been in his keeping and that his thoughts and interests were those +of the statesman and the warrior. That great day when, little more +than a school-boy, he had led the van of the victorious army which had +crushed the power of France and Crecy, had left this stamp upon his +features; but stern as they were they had not assumed that tinge of +fierceness which in after years was to make "The Black Prince" a name +of terror on the marches of France. Not yet had the first shadow of fell +disease come to poison his nature ere it struck at his life, as he rode +that spring day, light and debonair, upon the heath of Crooksbury. + +On the left of the King, and so near to him that great intimacy +was implied, rode a man about his own age, with the broad face, the +projecting jaw and the flattish nose which are often the outward +indications of a pugnacious nature. + +His complexion was crimson, his large blue eyes somewhat prominent, +and his whole appearance full-blooded and choleric. He was short, but +massively built, and evidently possessed of immense strength. His voice, +however, when he spoke was gentle and lisping, while his manner was +quiet and courteous. Unlike the King or the Prince, he was clad in light +armor and carried a sword by his side and a mace at his saddle-bow, for +he was acting as Captain of the King's Guard, and a dozen other knights +in steel followed in the escort. No hardier soldier could Edward have +at his side, if, as was always possible in those lawless times, sudden +danger was to threaten, for this was the famous knight of Hainault, +now naturalized as an Englishman, Sir Walter Manny, who bore as high +a reputation for chivalrous valor and for gallant temerity as Chandos +himself. + +Behind the knights, who were forbidden to scatter and must always follow +the King's person, there was a body of twenty or thirty hobblers or +mounted bowmen, together with several squires, unarmed themselves but +leading spare horses upon which the heavier part of their knights' +equipment was carried. A straggling tail of falconers, harbingers, +varlets, body-servants and huntsmen holding hounds in leash completed +the long and many-colored train which rose and dipped on the low +undulations of the moor. + +Many weighty things were on the mind of Edward the King. There was truce +for the moment with France, but it was a truce broken by many small +deeds of arms, raids, surprises and ambushes upon either side, and it +was certain that it would soon dissolve again into open war. Money must +be raised, and it was no light matter to raise it, now that the Commons +had once already voted the tenth lamb and the tenth sheaf. Besides, the +Black Death had ruined the country, the arable land was all turned +to pasture, the laborer, laughing at statutes, would not work under +fourpence a day, and all society was chaos. In addition, the Scotch +were growling over the border, there was the perennial trouble in +half-conquered Ireland, and his allies abroad in Flanders and in Brabant +were clamoring for the arrears of their subsidies. + +All this was enough to make even a victorious monarch full of care; but +now Edward had thrown it all to the winds and was as light-hearted as +a boy upon a holiday. No thought had he for the dunning of Florentine +bankers or the vexatious conditions of those busybodies at Westminster. +He was out with his hawks, and his thoughts and his talk should be of +nothing else. The varlets beat the heather and bushes as they passed, +and whooped loudly as the birds flew out. + +"A magpie! A magpie!" cried the falconer. + +"Nay, nay, it is not worthy of your talons, my brown-eyed queen," said +the King, looking up at the great bird which flapped from side to +side above his head, waiting for the whistle which should give her the +signal. "The tercels, falconer--a cast of tercels! Quick, man, quick! +Ha! the rascal makes for wood! He puts in! Well flown, brave peregrine! +He makes his point. Drive him out to thy comrade. Serve him, varlets! +Beat the bushes! He breaks! He breaks! Nay, come away then! You will see +Master Magpie no more." + +The bird had indeed, with the cunning of its race, flapped its way +through brushwood and bushes to the thicker woods beyond, so that +neither the hawk amid the cover nor its partner above nor the clamorous +beaters could harm it. The King laughed at the mischance and rode on. +Continually birds of various sorts were flushed, and each was pursued +by the appropriate hawk, the snipe by the tercel, the partridge by the +goshawk, even the lark by the little merlin. But the King soon tired of +this petty sport and went slowly on his way, still with the magnificent +silent attendant flapping above his head. + +"Is she not a noble bird, fair son?" he asked, glancing up as her shadow +fell upon him. + +"She is indeed, sire. Surely no finer ever came from the isles of the +north." + +"Perhaps not, and yet I have had a hawk from Barbary as good a footer +and a swifter flyer. An Eastern bird in yarak has no peer." + +"I had one once from the Holy Land," said de Manny. "It was fierce and +keen and swift as the Saracens themselves. They say of old Saladin that +in his day his breed of birds, of hounds and of horses had no equal on +earth." + +"I trust, dear father, that the day may come when we shall lay our hands +on all three," said the Prince, looking with shining eyes upon the +King. "Is the Holy Land to lie forever in the grasp of these unbelieving +savages, or the Holy Temple to be defiled by their foul presence? Ah! my +dear and most sweet lord, give to me a thousand lances with ten thousand +bowmen like those I led at Crecy, and I swear to you by God's soul +that within a year I will have done homage to you for the Kingdom of +Jerusalem!" + +The King laughed as he turned to Walter Manny. "Boys will still be +boys," said he. + +"The French do not count me such!" cried the young Prince, flushing with +anger. + +"Nay, fair son, there is no one sets you at a higher rate than your +father. But you have the nimble mind and quick fancy of youth, turning +over from the thing that is half done to a further task beyond. How +would we fare in Brittany and Normandy while my young paladin with his +lances and his bowmen was besieging Ascalon or battering at Jerusalem?" + +"Heaven would help in Heaven's work." + +"From what I have heard of the past," said the King dryly, "I cannot see +that Heaven has counted for much as an ally in these wars of the East. I +speak with reverence, and yet it is but sooth to say that Richard of +the Lion Heart or Louis of France might have found the smallest earthly +principality of greater service to him than all the celestial hosts. How +say you to that, my Lord Bishop?" + +A stout churchman who had ridden behind the King on a solid bay cob, +well-suited to his weight and dignity, jogged up to the monarch's elbow. +"How say you, sire? I was watching the goshawk on the partridge and +heard you not." + +"Had I said that I would add two manors to the See of Chichester, I +warrant that you would have heard me, my Lord Bishop." + +"Nay, fair lord, test the matter by saying so," cried the jovial Bishop. + +The King laughed aloud. "A fair counter, your reverence. By the rood! +you broke your lance that passage. But the question I debated was this: +How is it that since the Crusades have manifestly been fought in God's +quarrel, we Christians have had so little comfort or support in fighting +them. After all our efforts and the loss of more men than could be +counted, we are at last driven from the country, and even the military +orders which were formed only for that one purpose can scarce hold a +footing in the islands of the Greek sea. There is not one seaport nor +one fortress in Palestine over which the flag of the Cross still waves. +Where then was our ally?" + +"Nay, sire, you open a great debate which extends far beyond this +question of the Holy Land, though that may indeed be chosen as a +fair example. It is the question of all sin, of all suffering, of +all injustice--why it should pass without the rain of fire and the +lightnings of Sinai. The wisdom of God is beyond our understanding." + +The King shrugged his shoulders. "This is an easy answer, my Lord +Bishop. You are a prince of the Church. It would fare ill with an +earthly prince who could give no better answer to the affairs which +concerned his realm." + +"There are other considerations which might be urged, most gracious +sire. It is true that the Crusades were a holy enterprise which might +well expect the immediate blessing of God; but the Crusaders--is it +certain that they deserved such a blessing? Have I not heard that their +camp was the most dissolute ever seen?" + +"Camps are camps all the world over, and you cannot in a moment change +a bowman into a saint. But the holy Louis was a crusader after your own +heart. Yet his men perished at Mansurah and he himself at Tunis." + +"Bethink you also that this world is but the antechamber of the next," +said the prelate. "By suffering and tribulation the soul is cleansed, +and the true victor may be he who by the patient endurance of misfortune +merits the happiness to come." + +"If that be the true meaning of the Church's blessing, then I hope that +it will be long before it rests upon our banners in France," said the +King. "But methinks that when one is out with a brave horse and a good +hawk one might find some other subject than theology. Back to the +birds, Bishop, or Raoul the falconer will come to interrupt thee in thy +cathedral." + +Straightway the conversation came back to the mystery of the woods and +the mystery of the rivers, to the dark-eyed hawks and the yellow-eyed, +to hawks of the lure and hawks of the fist. The Bishop was as steeped +in the lore of falconry as the King, and the others smiled as the two +wrangled hard over disputed and technical questions: if an eyas trained +in the mews can ever emulate the passage hawk taken wild, or how long +the young hawks should be placed at hack, and how long weathered before +they are fully reclaimed. + +Monarch and prelate were still deep in this learned discussion, the +Bishop speaking with a freedom and assurance which he would never have +dared to use in affairs of Church and State, for in all ages there is +no such leveler as sport. Suddenly, however, the Prince, whose keen +eyes had swept from time to time over the great blue heaven, uttered a +peculiar call and reined up his palfrey, pointing at the same time into +the air. + +"A heron!" he cried. "A heron on passage!" + +To gain the full sport of hawking a heron must not be put up from its +feeding-ground, where it is heavy with its meal, and has no time to get +its pace on before it is pounced upon by the more active hawk, but +it must be aloft, traveling from point to point, probably from the +fish-stream to the heronry. Thus to catch the bird on passage was the +prelude of all good sport. The object to which the Prince had pointed +was but a black dot in the southern sky, but his strained eyes had +not deceived him, and both Bishop and King agreed that it was indeed a +heron, which grew larger every instant as it flew in their direction. + +"Whistle him off, sire! Whistle off the gerfalcon!" cried the Bishop. + +"Nay, nay, he is overfar. She would fly at check." + +"Now, sire, now!" cried the Prince, as the great bird with the breeze +behind him came sweeping down the sky. + +The King gave the shrill whistle, and the well-trained hawk raked out to +the right and to the left to make sure which quarry she was to follow. +Then, spying the heron, she shot up in a swift ascending curve to meet +him. + +"Well flown, Margot! Good bird!" cried the King, clapping his hands +to encourage the hawk, while the falconers broke into the shrill whoop +peculiar to the sport. + +Going on her curve, the hawk would soon have crossed the path of the +heron; but the latter, seeing the danger in his front and confident in +his own great strength of wing and lightness of body, proceeded to mount +higher in the air, flying in such small rings that to the spectators it +almost seemed as if the bird was going perpendicularly upward. + +"He takes the air!" cried the King. "But strong as he flies, he cannot +out fly Margot. Bishop, I lay you ten gold pieces to one that the heron +is mine." + +"I cover your wager, sire," said the Bishop. "I may not take gold so +won, and yet I warrant that there is an altar-cloth somewhere in need of +repairs." + +"You have good store of altar-cloths, Bishop, if all the gold I have +seen you win at tables goes to the mending of them," said the King. "Ah! +by the rood, rascal, rascal! See how she flies at check!" + +The quick eyes of the Bishop had perceived a drift of rooks when on +their evening flight to the rookery were passing along the very line +which divided the hawk from the heron. A rook is a hard temptation for +a hawk to resist. In an instant the inconstant bird had forgotten all +about the great heron above her and was circling over the rooks, flying +westward with them as she singled out the plumpest for her stoop. + +"There is yet time, sire! Shall I cast off her mate?" cried the +falconer. + +"Or shall I show you, sire, how a peregrine may win where a gerfalcon +fails?" said the Bishop. "Ten golden pieces to one upon my bird." + +"Done with you, Bishop!" cried the King, his brow dark with vexation. +"By the rood! if you were as learned in the fathers as you are in hawks +you would win to the throne of Saint Peter! Cast off your peregrine and +make your boasting good." + +Smaller than the royal gerfalcon, the Bishop's bird was none the less +a swift and beautiful creature. From her perch upon his wrist she had +watched with fierce, keen eyes the birds in the heaven, mantling herself +from time to time in her eagerness. Now when the button was undone +and the leash uncast the peregrine dashed off with a whir of her +sharp-pointed wings, whizzing round in a great ascending circle which +mounted swiftly upward, growing ever smaller as she approached that +lofty point where, a mere speck in the sky, the heron sought escape from +its enemies. Still higher and higher the two birds mounted, while the +horsemen, their faces upturned, strained their eyes in their efforts to +follow them. + +"She rings! She still rings!" cried the Bishop. "She is above him! She +has gained her pitch." + +"Nay, nay, she is far below," said the King. + +"By my soul, my Lord Bishop is right!" cried the Prince. "I believe she +is above. See! See! She swoops!" + +"She binds! She binds!" cried a dozen voices as the two dots blended +suddenly into one. + +There could be no doubt that they were falling rapidly. Already they +grew larger to the eye. Presently the heron disengaged himself and +flapped heavily away, the worse for that deadly embrace, while the +peregrine, shaking her plumage, ringed once more so as to get high above +the quarry and deal it a second and more fatal blow. The Bishop smiled, +for nothing, as it seemed, could hinder his victory. + +"Thy gold pieces shall be well spent, sire," said he. "What is lost to +the Church is gained by the loser." + +But a most unlooked-for chance deprived the Bishop's altar cloth of +its costly mending. The King's gerfalcon having struck down a rook, and +finding the sport but tame, bethought herself suddenly of that noble +heron, which she still perceived fluttering over Crooksbury Heath. How +could she have been so weak as to allow these silly, chattering rooks to +entice her away from that lordly bird? Even now it was not too late to +atone for her mistake. In a great spiral she shot upward until she was +over the heron. But what was this? Every fiber of her, from her crest to +her deck feathers, quivered with jealousy and rage at the sight of +this creature, a mere peregrine, who had dared to come between a royal +gerfalcon and her quarry. With one sweep of her great wings she shot up +until she was above her rival. The next instant-- + +"They crab! They crab!" cried the King, with a roar of laughter, +following them with his eyes as they bustled down through the air. "Mend +thy own altar-cloths, Bishop. Not a groat shall you have from me this +journey. Pull them apart, falconer, lest they do each other an injury. +And now, masters, let us on, for the sun sinks toward the west." + +The two hawks, which had come to the ground interlocked with clutching +talons and ruffled plumes, were torn apart and brought back bleeding and +panting to their perches, while the heron after its perilous adventure +flapped its way heavily onward to settle safely in the heronry of +Waverley. The cortege, who had scattered in the excitement of the chase, +came together again, and the journey was once more resumed. + +A horseman who had been riding toward them across the moor now quickened +his pace and closed swiftly upon them. As he came nearer, the King and +the Prince cried out joyously and waved their hands in greeting. + +"It is good John Chandos!!" cried the King. "By the rood, John, I have +missed your merry songs this week or more! Glad I am to see that you +have your citole slung to your back. Whence come you then?" + +"I come from Tilford, sire, in the hope that I should meet your +majesty." + +"It was well thought of. Come, ride here between the Prince and me, and +we will believe that we are back in France with our war harness on our +backs once more. What is your news, Master John?" + +Chandos' quaint face quivered with suppressed amusement and his one eye +twinkled like a star. "Have you had sport, my liege?" + +"Poor sport, John. We flew two hawks on the same heron. They crabbed, +and the bird got free. But why do you smile so?" + +"Because I hope to show you better sport ere you come to Tilford." + +"For the hawk? For the hound?" + +"A nobler sport than either." + +"Is this a riddle, John? What mean you?" + +"Nay, to tell all would be to spoil all. I say again that there is rare +sport betwixt here and Tilford, and I beg you, dear lord, to mend your +pace that we make the most of the daylight." + +Thus adjured, the King set spurs to his horse, and the whole cavalcade +cantered over the heath in the direction which Chandos showed. Presently +as they came over a slope they saw beneath them a winding river with +an old high-backed bridge across it. On the farther side was a village +green with a fringe of cottages and one dark manor house upon the side +of the hill. + +"This is Tilford," said Chandos. "Yonder is the house of the Lorings." + +The King's expectations had been aroused and his face showed his +disappointment. + +"Is this the sport that you have promised us, Sir John? How can you make +good your words?" + +"I will make them good, my liege." + +"Where then is the sport?" + +On the high crown of the bridge a rider in armor was seated, lance in +hand, upon a great yellow steed. Chandos touched the King's arm and +pointed. "That is the sport," said he. + + + + +IX. HOW NIGEL HELD THE BRIDGE AT TILFORD + + +The King looked at the motionless figure, at the little crowd of hushed +expectant rustics beyond the bridge, and finally at the face of Chandos, +which shone with amusement. + +"What is this, John?" he asked. + +"You remember Sir Eustace Loring, sire?" + +"Indeed I could never forget him nor the manner of his death." + +"He was a knight errant in his day." + +"That indeed he was--none better have I known." + +"So is his son Nigel, as fierce a young war-hawk as ever yearned to use +beak and claws; but held fast in the mews up to now. This is his trial +fight. There he stands at the bridge-head, as was the wont in our +fathers' time, ready to measure himself against all comers." + +Of all Englishmen there was no greater knight errant than the King +himself, and none so steeped in every quaint usage of chivalry; so that +the situation was after his own heart. + +"He is not yet a knight?" + +"No, sire, only a Squire." + +"Then he must bear himself bravely this day if he is to make good what +he has done. Is it fitting that a young untried Squire should venture to +couch his lance against the best in England?" + +"He hath given me his cartel and challenge," said Chandos, drawing a +paper from his tunic. "Have I your permission, sire, to issue it?" + +"Surely, John, we have no cavalier more versed in the laws of chivalry +than yourself. You know this young man, and you are aware how far he is +worthy of the high honor which he asks. Let us hear his defiance." + +The knights and squires of the escort, most of whom were veterans of +the French war, had been gazing with interest and some surprise at the +steel-clad figure in front of them. Now at a call from Sir Walter Manny +they assembled round the spot where the King and Chandos had halted. +Chandos cleared his throat and read from his paper-- + +"'A tous seigneurs, chevaliers et escuyers,' so it is headed, gentlemen. +It is a message from the good Squire Nigel Loring of Tilford, son of Sir +Eustace Loring, of honorable memory. Squire Loring awaits you in arms, +gentlemen, yonder upon the crown of the old bridge. Thus says he: 'For +the great desire that I, a most humble and unworthy Squire, entertain, +that I may come to the knowledge of the noble gentlemen who ride with my +royal master, I now wait on the Bridge of the Way in the hope that some +of them may condescend to do some small deed of arms upon me, or that I +may deliver them from any vow which they may have taken. This I say out +of no esteem for myself, but solely that I may witness the noble bearing +of these famous cavaliers and admire their skill in the handling of +arms. Therefore, with the help of Saint George, I will hold the bridge +with sharpened lances against any or all who may deign to present +themselves while daylight lasts." + +"What say you to this, gentlemen?" asked the King, looking round with +laughing eyes. + +"Truly it is issued in very good form," said the Prince. "Neither +Claricieux nor Red Dragon nor any herald that ever wore tabard could +better it. Did he draw it of his own hand?" + +"He hath a grim old grandmother who is one of the ancient breed," said +Chandos. "I doubt not that the Dame Ermyntrude hath drawn a challenge or +two before now. But hark ye, sire, I would have a word in your ear--and +yours too, most noble Prince." + +Leading them aside, Chandos whispered some explanations, which ended by +them all three bursting into a shout of laughter. + +"By the rood! no honorable gentleman should be reduced to such straits," +said the King. "It behooves me to look to it. But how now, gentlemen? +This worthy cavalier still waits his answer." + +The soldiers had all been buzzing together; but now Walter Manny turned +to the King with the result of their counsel. + +"If it please your majesty," said he, "we are of opinion that this +Squire hath exceeded all bounds in desiring to break a spear with a +belted knight ere he has given his proofs. We do him sufficient honor +if a Squire ride against him, and with your consent I have chosen my +own body-squire, John Widdicombe, to clear the path for us across the +bridge." + +"What you say, Walter, is right and fair," said the King. "Master +Chandos, you will tell our champion yonder what hath been arranged. You +will advise him also that it is our royal will that this contest be not +fought upon the bridge, since it is very clear that it must end in one +or both going over into the river, but that he advance to the end of the +bridge and fight upon the plain. You will tell him also that a blunted +lance is sufficient for such an encounter, but that a hand-stroke or +two with sword or mace may well be exchanged, if both riders should keep +their saddles. A blast upon Raoul's horn shall be the signal to close." + +Such ventures as these where an aspirant for fame would wait for days at +a cross-road, a ford, or a bridge, until some worthy antagonist should +ride that way, were very common in the old days of adventurous knight +erranty, and were still familiar to the minds of all men because the +stories of the romancers and the songs of the trouveres were full of +such incidents. Their actual occurrence however had become rare. There +was the more curiosity, not unmixed with amusement, in the thoughts +of the courtiers as they watched Chandos ride down to the bridge and +commented upon the somewhat singular figure of the challenger. His build +was strange, and so also was his figure, for the limbs were short for so +tall a man. His head also was sunk forward as if he were lost in thought +or overcome with deep dejection. + +"This is surely the Cavalier of the Heavy Heart," said Manny. "What +trouble has he, that he should hang his head?" + +"Perchance he hath a weak neck," said the King. + +"At least he hath no weak voice," the Prince remarked, as Nigel's answer +to Chandos came to their ears. "By our lady, he booms like a bittern." + +As Chandos rode back again to the King, Nigel exchanged the old ash +spear which had been his father's for one of the blunted tournament +lances which he took from the hands of a stout archer in attendance. He +then rode down to the end of the bridge where a hundred-yard stretch +of greensward lay in front of him. At the same moment the Squire of +Sir Walter Manny, who had been hastily armed by his comrades, spurred +forward and took up his position. + +The King raised his hand; there was a clang from the falconer's horn, +and the two riders, with a thrust of their heels and a shake of their +bridles, dashed furiously at each other. In the center the green strip +of marshy meadowland, with the water squirting from the galloping hoofs, +and the two crouching men, gleaming bright in the evening sun, on one +side the half circle of motionless horsemen, some in steel, some in +velvet, silent and attentive, dogs, hawks, and horses all turned to +stone; on the other the old peaked bridge, the blue lazy river, the +group of openmouthed rustics, and the dark old manor-house with one grim +face which peered from the upper window. + +A good man was John Widdicombe, but he had met a better that day. Before +that yellow whirlwind of a horse and that rider who was welded and +riveted to his saddle his knees could not hold their grip. Nigel and +Pommers were one flying missile, with all their weight and strength +and energy centered on the steady end of the lance. Had Widdicombe been +struck by a thunderbolt he could not have flown faster or farther from +his saddle. Two full somersaults did he make, his plates clanging like +cymbals, ere he lay prone upon his back. + +For a moment the King looked grave at that prodigious fall. Then smiling +once more as Widdicombe staggered to his feet, he clapped his hands +loudly in applause. "A fair course and fairly run!" he cried. "The five +scarlet roses bear themselves in peace even as I have seen them in war. +How now, my good Walter? Have you another Squire or will you clear a +path for us yourself?" + +Manny's choleric face had turned darker as he observed the mischance of +his representative. He beckoned now to a tall knight, whose gaunt and +savage face looked out from his open bassinet as an eagle might from a +cage of steel. + +"Sir Hubert," said he, "I bear in mind the day when you overbore the +Frenchman at Caen. Will you not be our champion now?" + +"When I fought the Frenchman, Walter, it was with naked weapons," said +the knight sternly. "I am a soldier and I love a soldier's work, but I +care not for these tiltyard tricks which were invented for nothing but +to tickle the fancies of foolish women." + +"Oh, most ungallant speech!" cried the King. "Had my good-consort heard +you she would have arraigned you to appear at a Court of Love with +a jury of virgins to answer for your sins. But I pray you to take a +tilting spear, good Sir Hubert!" + +"I had as soon take a peacock's feather, my fair lord; but I will do it, +if you ask me. Here, page, hand me one of those sticks, and let me see +what I can do." + +But Sir Hubert de Burgh was not destined to test either his skill or his +luck. The great bay horse which he rode was as unused to this warlike +play as was its master, and had none of its master's stoutness of heart; +so that when it saw the leveled lance, the gleaming figure and the +frenzied yellow horse rushing down upon it, it swerved, turned and +galloped furiously down the river-bank. Amid roars of laughter from the +rustics on the one side and from the courtiers on the other, Sir Hubert +was seen, tugging vainly at his bridle, and bounding onward, clearing +gorse-bushes and heather-clumps, until he was but a shimmering, +quivering gleam upon the dark hillside. Nigel, who had pulled Pommers +on to his very haunches at the instant that his opponent turned, saluted +with his lance and trotted back to the bridge-head, where he awaited his +next assailant. + +"The ladies would say that a judgment hath fallen upon our good Sir +Hubert for his impious words," said the King. + +"Let us hope that his charger may be broken in ere they venture to ride +out between two armies," remarked the Prince. "They might mistake the +hardness of his horse's mouth for a softness of the rider's heart. See +where he rides, still clearing every bush upon his path." + +"By the rood!" said the King, "if the bold Hubert has not increased his +repute as a jouster he has gained great honor as a horseman. But the +bridge is still closed, Walter. How say you now? Is this young Squire +never to be unhorsed, or is your King himself to lay lance in rest ere +his way can be cleared? By the head of Saint Thomas! I am in the very +mood to run a course with this gentle youth." + +"Nay, nay, sire, too much honor hath already been done him!" said Manny, +looking angrily at the motionless horseman. "That this untried boy +should be able to say that in one evening he has unhorsed my Squire, and +seen the back of one of the bravest knights in England is surely enough +to turn his foolish head. Fetch me a spear, Robert! I will see what I +can make of him." + +The famous knight took the spear when it was brought to him as a +master-workman takes a tool. He balanced it, shook it once or twice in +the air, ran his eyes down it for a flaw in the wood, and then finally +having made sure of its poise and weight laid it carefully in rest under +his arm. Then gathering up his bridle so as to have his horse under +perfect command, and covering himself with the shield, which was slung +round his neck, he rode out to do battle. + +Now, Nigel, young and inexperienced, all Nature's aid will not help you +against the mixed craft and strength of such a warrior. The day will +come when neither Manny nor even Chandos could sweep you from your +saddle; but now, even had you some less cumbrous armor, your chance were +small. Your downfall is near; but as you see the famous black chevrons +on a golden ground your gallant heart which never knew fear is only +filled with joy and amazement at the honor done you. Your downfall is +near, and yet in your wildest dreams you would never guess how strange +your downfall is to be. + +Again with a dull thunder of hoofs the horses gallop over the soft +water-meadow. Again with a clash of metal the two riders meet. It is +Nigel now, taken clean in the face of his helmet with the blunted spear, +who flies backward off his horse and falls clanging on the grass. + +But good heavens! what is this? Manny has thrown up his hands in horror +and the lance has dropped from his nerveless fingers. From all sides, +with cries of dismay, with oaths and shouts and ejaculations to the +saints, the horsemen ride wildly in. Was ever so dreadful, so sudden, so +complete, an end to a gentle passage at arms? Surely their eyes must be +at fault? Some wizard's trick has been played upon them to deceive their +senses. But no, it was only too clear. There on the greensward lay the +trunk of the stricken cavalier, and there, a good dozen yards beyond, +lay his helmeted head. + +"By the Virgin!" cried Manny wildly, as he jumped from his horse, "I +would give my last gold piece that the work of this evening should be +undone! How came it? What does it mean? Hither, my Lord Bishop, for +surely it smacks of witchcraft and the Devil." + +With a white face the Bishop had sprung down beside the prostrate body, +pushing through the knot of horrified knights and squires. + +"I fear that the last offices of the Holy Church come too late," said he +in a quivering voice. "Most unfortunate young man! How sudden an end! +In medio vitae, as the Holy Book has it--one moment in the pride of his +youth, the next his head torn from his body. Now God and his saints have +mercy upon me and guard me from evil!" + +The last prayer was shot out of the Bishop with an energy and +earnestness unusual in his orisons. It was caused by the sudden outcry +of one of the Squires who, having lifted the helmet from the ground, +cast it down again with a scream of horror. + +"It is empty!" he cried. "It weighs as light as a feather." + +"'Fore God, it is true!" cried Manny, laying his hand on it. "There +is no one in it. With what have I fought, father Bishop? Is it of this +world or of the next?" + +The Bishop had clambered on his horse the better to consider the point. +"If the foul fiend is abroad," said he, "my place is over yonder by +the King's side. Certes that sulphur-colored horse hath a very devilish +look. I could have sworn that I saw both smoke and flame from its +nostrils. The beast is fit to bear a suit of armor which rides and +fights and yet hath no man within it." + +"Nay, not too fast, father Bishop," said one of the knights. "It may +be all that you say and yet come from a human workshop. When I made a +campaign in South Germany I have seen at Nuremberg a cunning figure, +devised by an armorer, which could both ride and wield a sword. If this +be such a one--" + +"I thank you all for your very gentle courtesy," said a booming voice +from the figure upon the ground. + +At the words even the valiant Manny sprang into his saddle. Some rode +madly away from the horrid trunk. A few of the boldest lingered. + +"Most of all," said the voice, "would I thank the most noble knight, +Sir Walter Manny, that he should deign to lay aside his greatness and +condescend to do a deed of arms upon so humble a Squire." + +"'Fore God!" said Manny, "if this be the Devil, then the Devil hath a +very courtly tongue. I will have him out of his armor, if he blast me!" + +So saying he sprang once more from his horse and plunging his hand down +the slit in the collapsed gorget he closed it tightly upon a fistful of +Nigel's yellow curls. The groan that came forth was enough to convince +him that it was indeed a man who lurked within. At the same time his +eyes fell upon the hole in the mail corselet which had served the Squire +as a visor, and he burst into deep-chested mirth. The King, the Prince +and Chandos, who had watched the scene from a distance, too much amused +by it to explain or interfere, rode up weary with laughter, now that all +was discovered. + +"Let him out!" said the King, with his hand to his side. "I pray you to +unlace him and let him out! I have shared in many a spear-running, but +never have I been nearer falling from my horse than as I watched this +one. I feared the fall had struck him senseless, since he lay so still." + +Nigel had indeed lain with all the breath shaken from his body, and +as he was unaware that his helmet had been carried off, he had not +understood either the alarm or the amusement that he had caused. Now +freed from the great hauberk in which he had been shut like a pea in a +pod, he stood blinking in the light, blushing deeply with shame that +the shifts to which his poverty had reduced him should be exposed to all +these laughing courtiers. It was the King who brought him comfort. + +"You have shown that you can use your father's weapons," said he, "and +you have proved also that you are the worthy bearer of his name and his +arms, for you have within you that spirit for which he was famous. But I +wot that neither he nor you would suffer a train of hungry men to starve +before your door; so lead on, I pray you, and if the meat be as good as +this grace before it, then it will be a feast indeed." + + + + +X. HOW THE KING GREETED HIS SENESCHAL OF CALAIS + + +It would have fared ill with the good name of Tilford Manor house and +with the housekeeping of the aged Dame Ermyntrude had the King's +whole retinue, with his outer and inner marshal, his justiciar, his +chamberlain and his guard, all gathered under the one roof. But by +the foresight and the gentle management of Chandos this calamity was +avoided, so that some were quartered at the great Abbey and others +passed on to enjoy the hospitality of Sir Roger FitzAlan at Farnham +Castle. Only the King himself, the Prince, Manny, Chandos, Sir Hubert de +Burgh, the Bishop and two or three more remained behind as the guests of +the Lorings. + +But small as was the party and humble the surroundings, the King in no +way relaxed that love of ceremony, of elaborate form and of brilliant +coloring which was one of his characteristics. The sumpter-mules +were unpacked, squires ran hither and thither, baths smoked in the +bed-chambers, silks and satins were unfolded, gold chains gleamed +and clinked, so that when at last, to the long blast of two court +trumpeters, the company took their seats at the board, it was the +brightest, fairest scene which those old black rafters had ever spanned. + +The great influx of foreign knights who had come in their splendor from +all parts of Christendom to take part in the opening of the Round Tower +of Windsor six years before, and to try their luck and their skill +at the tournament connected with it, had deeply modified the English +fashions of dress. The old tunic, over-tunic and cyclas were too sad and +simple for the new fashions, so now strange and brilliant cote-hardies, +pourpoints, courtepies, paltocks, hanselines and many other wondrous +garments, parti-colored or diapered, with looped, embroidered or +escalloped edges, flamed and glittered round the King. He himself, in +black velvet and gold, formed a dark rich center to the finery around +him. On his right sat the Prince, on his left the Bishop, while Dame +Ermyntrude marshaled the forces of the household outside, alert and +watchful, pouring in her dishes and her flagons at the right moment, +rallying her tired servants, encouraging the van, hurrying the rear, +hastening up her reserves, the tapping of her oak stick heard everywhere +the pressure was the greatest. + +Behind the King, clad in his best, but looking drab and sorry amid the +brilliant costumes round him, Nigel himself, regardless of an aching +body and a twisted knee, waited upon his royal guests, who threw many +a merry jest at him over their shoulders as they still chuckled at the +adventure of the bridge. + +"By the rood!" said King Edward, leaning back, with a chicken bone held +daintily between the courtesy fingers of his left hand, "the play is +too good for this country stage. You must to Windsor with me, Nigel, and +bring with you this great suit of harness in which you lurk. There you +shall hold the lists with your eyes in your midriff, and unless some +one cleave you to the waist I see not how any harm can befall you. Never +have I seen so small a nut in so great a shell." + +The Prince, looking back with laughing eyes, saw by Nigel's flushed and +embarrassed face that his poverty hung heavily upon him. "Nay," said he +kindly, "such a workman is surely worthy of better tools." + +"And it is for his master to see that he has them," added the King. "The +court armorer will look to it that the next time your helmet is carried +away, Nigel, your head shall be inside it." + +Nigel, red to the roots of his flaxen hair, stammered out some words of +thanks. + +John Chandos, however, had a fresh suggestion, and he cocked a roguish +eye as he made it: "Surely, my liege, your bounty is little needed in +this case. It is the ancient law of arms that if two cavaliers start +to joust, and one either by maladdress or misadventure fail to meet +the shock, then his arms become the property of him who still holds +the lists. This being so, methinks, Sir Hubert de Burgh, that the fine +hauberk of Milan and the helmet of Bordeaux steel in which you rode to +Tilford should remain with our young host as some small remembrance of +your visit." + +The suggestion raised a general chorus of approval and laughter, in +which all joined, save only Sir Hubert himself, who, flushed with anger, +fixed his baleful eyes upon Chandos' mischievous and smiling face. + +"I said that I did not play that foolish game, and I know nothing of its +laws," said he; "but you know well, John, that if you would have a bout +with sharpened spear or sword, where two ride to the ground, and only +one away from it, you have not far to go to find it." + +"Nay, nay, would you ride to the ground? Surely you had best walk, +Hubert," said Chandos. "On your feet I know well that I should not see +your back as we have seen it to-day. Say what you will, your horse has +played you false, and I claim your suit of harness for Nigel Loring." + +"Your tongue is overlong, John, and I am weary of its endless clack!" +said Sir Hubert, his yellow mustache bristling from a scarlet face. "If +you claim my harness, do you yourself come and take it. If there is a +moon in the sky you may try this very night when the board is cleared." + +"Nay, fair sirs," cried the King, smiling from one to the other, "this +matter must be followed no further. Do you fill a bumper of Gascony, +John, and you also, Hubert. Now pledge each other, I pray you, as good +and loyal comrades who would scorn to fight save in your King's quarrel. +We can spare neither of you while there is so much work for brave hearts +over the sea. As to this matter of the harness, John Chandos speaks +truly where it concerns a joust in the lists, but we hold that such a +law is scarce binding in this, which was but a wayside passage and a +gentle trial of arms. On the other hand, in the case of your Squire, +Master Manny, there can be no doubt that his suit is forfeit." + +"It is a grievous hearing for him, my liege," said Walter Manny; "for he +is a poor man and hath been at sore pains to fit himself for the wars. +Yet what you say shall be done, fair sire. So, if you will come to me in +the morning, Squire Loring, John Widdicombe's suit will be handed over +to you." + +"Then with the King's leave, I will hand it back to him," said Nigel, +troubled and stammering; "for indeed I had rather never ride to the wars +than take from a brave man his only suit of plate." + +"There spoke your father's spirit!" cried the King. "By the rood! Nigel, +I like you full well. Let the matter bide in my hands. But I marvel much +that Sir Aymery the Lombard hath not come to us yet from Windsor." + +From the moment of his arrival at Tilford, again and again King Edward +had asked most eagerly whether Sir Aymery had come, and whether there +was any news of him, so that the courtiers glanced at each other in +wonder. For Aymery was known to all of them as a famous mercenary of +Italy, lately appointed Governor of Calais, and this sudden and urgent +summons from the King might well mean some renewal of the war with +France, which was the dearest wish of every soldier. Twice the King had +stopped his meal and sat with sidelong head; his wine-cup in his hand, +listening attentively when some sound like the clatter of hoofs was +heard from outside; but the third time there could be no mistake. The +tramp and jingle of the horses broke loud upon the ear, and ended in +hoarse voices calling out of the darkness, which were answered by the +archers posted as sentries without the door. + +"Some traveler has indeed arrived, my liege," said Nigel. "What is your +royal will?" + +"It can be but Aymery," the King answered, "for it was only to him that +I left the message that he should follow me hither. Bid him come in, I +pray you, and make him very welcome at your board." + +Nigel cast open the door, plucking a torch from its bracket as he did +so. Half a dozen men-at-arms sat on their horses outside, but one had +dismounted, a short, squat, swarthy man with a rat face and quick, +restless brown eyes which peered eagerly past Nigel into the red glare +of the well-lit hall. + +"I am Sir Aymery of Pavia," he whispered. "For God's sake, tell me! is +the King within?" + +"He is at table, fair sir, and he bids you to enter." + +"One moment, young man, one moment, and a secret word in your ear. Wot +you why it is that the King has sent for me?" + +Nigel read terror in the dark cunning eyes which glanced in sidelong +fashion into his. "Nay, I know not." + +"I would I knew--I would I was sure ere I sought his presence." + +"You have but to cross the threshold, fair sir, and doubtless you will +learn from the King's own lips." + +Sir Aymery seemed to gather himself as one who braces for a spring into +ice-cold water. Then he crossed with a quick stride from the darkness +into the light. The King stood up and held out his hand with a smile +upon his long handsome face, and yet it seemed to the Italian that it +was the lips which smiled but not the eyes. + +"Welcome!" cried Edward. "Welcome to our worthy and faithful Seneschal +of Calais! Come, sit here before me at the board, for I have sent for +you that I may hear your news from over the sea, and thank you for +the care that you have taken of that which is as dear to me as wife or +child. Set a place for Sir Aymery there, and give him food and drink, +for he has ridden fast and far in our service to-day." + +Throughout the long feast which the skill of the Lady Ermyntrude had +arranged, Edward chatted lightly with the Italian as well as with +the barons near him. Finally, when the last dish was removed and the +gravy-soaked rounds of coarse bread which served as plates had been cast +to the dogs, the wine-flagons were passed round; and old Weathercote +the minstrel entered timidly with his harp in the hope that he might be +allowed to play before the King's majesty. But Edward had other sport +afoot. + +"I pray you, Nigel, to send out the servants, so that we may be alone. +I would have two men-at-arms at every door lest we be disturbed in our +debate, for it is a matter of privacy. And now, Sir Aymery, these noble +lords as well as I, your master, would fain hear from your own lips how +all goes forward in France." + +The Italian's face was calm; but he looked restlessly from one to +another along the line of his listeners. + +"So far as I know, my liege, all is quiet on the French marches," said +he. + +"You have not heard then that they have mustered or gathered to a head +with the intention of breaking the truce and making some attempt upon +our dominions?" + +"Nay, sire, I have heard nothing of it." + +"You set my mind much at ease, Aymery," said the King; "for if nothing +has come to your ears, then surely it cannot be. It was said that the +wild Knight de Chargny had come down to St. Omer with his eyes upon my +precious jewel and his mailed hands ready to grasp it." + +"Nay, sire, let him come. He will find the jewel safe in its strong box, +with a goodly guard over it." + +"You are the guard over my jewel, Aymery." + +"Yes, sire, I am the guard." + +"And you are a faithful guard and one whom I can trust, are you not? You +would not barter away that which is so dear to me when I have chosen you +out of all my army to hold it for me?" + +"Nay, sire, what reasons can there be for such questions? They touch my +honor very nearly. You know that I would part with Calais only when I +parted with my soul." + +"Then you know nothing of de Chargny's attempt?" + +"Nothing sire." + +"Liar and villain!" yelled the King, springing to his feet and dashing +his fist upon the table until the glasses rattled again. "Seize him, +archers! Seize him this instant! Stand close by either elbow, lest he do +himself a mischief! Now do you dare to tell me to my face, you perjured +Lombard, that you know nothing of de Chargny and his plans?" + +"As God is my witness I know nothing of him!" The man's lips were white, +and he spoke in a thin, sighing, reedy voice, his eyes wincing away from +the fell gaze of the angry King. + +Edward laughed bitterly, and drew a paper from his breast. "You are the +judges in this case, you, my fair son, and you, Chandos, and you, Manny, +and you, Sir Hubert, and you also, my Lord Bishop. By my sovereign power +I make you a court that you may deal justice upon this man, for by God's +eyes I will not stir from this room until I have sifted the matter to +the bottom. And first I would read you this letter. It is superscribed +to Sir Aymery of Pavia, nomme Le Lombard, Chateau de Calais. Is not that +your name and style, you rogue?" + +"It is my name, sire; but no such letter has come to me." + +"Else had your villainy never been disclosed. It is signed 'Isidore de +Chargny'. What says my enemy de Chargny to my trusted servant? Listen! +'We could not come with the last moon, for we have not gathered +sufficient strength, nor have we been able to collect the twenty +thousand crowns which are your price. But with the next turn of the moon +in the darkest hour we will come and you will be paid your money at the +small postern gate with the rowan-bush beside it.' Well, rogue, what say +you now?" + +"It is a forgery!" gasped the Italian. + +"I pray you that you will let me see it, sire," said Chandos. "De +Chargny was my prisoner, and so many letters passed ere his ransom was +paid that his script is well-known to me. Yes, yes, I will swear that +this is indeed his. If my salvation were at stake I could swear it." + +"If it were indeed written by de Chargny it was to dishonor me," cried +Sir Aymery. + +"Nay, nay!" said the young Prince. "We all know de Chargny and have +fought against him. Many faults he has, a boaster and a brawler, but a +braver man and one of greater heart and higher of enterprise does not +ride beneath the lilies of France. Such a man would never stoop to write +a letter for the sake of putting dishonor upon one of knightly rank. I, +for one, will never believe it." + +A gruff murmur from the others showed that they were of one mind with +the Prince. The light of the torches from the walls beat upon the line +of stern faces at the high table. They had sat like flint, and the +Italian shrank from their inexorable eyes. He looked swiftly round, but +armed men choked every entrance. The shadow of death had fallen athwart +his soul. + +"This letter," said the King, "was given by de Chargny to one Dom +Beauvais, a priest of St. Omer, to carry into Calais. The said priest, +smelling a reward, brought it to one who is my faithful servant, and so +it came to me. Straightway I sent for this man that he should come to +me. Meanwhile the priest has returned so that de Chargny may think that +his message is indeed delivered." + +"I know nothing of it," said the Italian doggedly, licking his dry lips. + +A dark flush mounted to the King's forehead, and his eyes were gorged +with his wrath. "No more of this, for God's dignity!" he cried. "Had +we this fellow at the Tower, a few turns of the rack would tear a +confession from his craven soul. But why should we need his word for his +own guilt? You have seen, my lords, you have heard! How say you, fair +son? Is the man guilty?" + +"Sire, he is guilty." + +"And you, John? And you, Walter? And you, Hubert? And you, my Lord +Bishop? You are all of one mind, then. He is guilty of the betrayal of +his trust. And the punishment?" + +"It can only be death," said the Prince, and each in turn the others +nodded their agreement. + +"Aymery of Pavia, you have heard your doom," said Edward, leaning his +chin upon his hand and glooming at the cowering Italian. "Step forward, +you archer at the door, you with the black beard. Draw your sword! +Nay, you white-faced rogue, I would not dishonor this roof-tree by your +blood. It is your heels, not your head, that we want. Hack off these +golden spurs of knighthood with your sword, archer! 'Twas I who gave +them, and I who take them back. Ha! they fly across the hall, and with +them every bond betwixt you and the worshipful order whose sign and +badge they are! Now lead him out on the heath afar from the house where +his carrion can best lie, and hew his scheming head from his body as a +warning to all such traitors!" + +The Italian, who had slipped from his chair to his knees, uttered a cry +of despair, as an archer seized him by either shoulder. Writhing out of +their grip, he threw himself upon the floor and clutched at the King's +feet. + +"Spare me, my most dread lord, spare me, I beseech you! In the name of +Christ's passion, I implore your grace and pardon! Bethink you, my good +and dear lord, how many years I have served under your banners and how +many services I have rendered. Was it not I who found the ford upon the +Seine two days before the great battle? Was it not I also who marshaled +the attack at the intaking of Calais? I have a wife and four children in +Italy, great King; and it was the thought of them which led me to fall +from my duty, for this money would have allowed me to leave the wars and +to see them once again. Mercy, my liege, mercy, I implore!" + +The English are a rough race, but not a cruel one. The King sat with a +face of doom; but the others looked askance and fidgeted in their seats. + +"Indeed, my fair liege," said Chandos, "I pray you that you will abate +somewhat of your anger." + +Edward shook his head curtly. "Be silent, John. It shall be as I have +said." + +"I pray you, my dear and honored liege, not to act with overmuch haste +in the matter," said Manny. "Bind him and hold him until the morning, +for other counsels may prevail." + +"Nay, I have spoken. Lead him out!" + +But the trembling man clung to the King's knees in such a fashion that +the archers could not disengage his convulsive grip. "Listen to me a +moment, I implore you! Give me but one minute to plead with you, and +then do what you will." + +The King leaned back in his chair. "Speak and have done," said he. + +"You must spare me, my noble liege. For your own sake I say that you +must spare me, for I can set you in the way of such a knightly adventure +as will gladden your heart. Bethink you, sire, that this de Chargny and +his comrades know nothing of their plans having gone awry. If I do but +send them a message they will surely come to the postern gate. Then, if +we have placed our bushment with skill we shall have such a capture and +such a ransom as will fill your coffers. He and his comrades should be +worth a good hundred thousand crowns." + +Edward spurned the Italian away from him with his foot until he sprawled +among the rushes, but even as he lay there like a wounded snake his dark +eyes never left the King's face. + +"You double traitor! You would sell Calais to de Chargny, and then in +turn you would sell de Chargny to me. How dare you suppose that I or +any noble knight had such a huckster's soul as to think only of ransoms +where honor is to be won? Could I or any true man be so caitiff and so +thrall? You have sealed your own doom. Lead him out!" + +"One instant, I pray you, my fair and most sweet lord," cried the +Prince. "Assuage your wrath yet a little while, for this man's rede +deserves perhaps more thought than we have given it. He has turned your +noble soul sick with his talk of ransoms; but look at it, I pray +you, from the side of honor, and where could we find such hope of +worshipfully winning worship? I pray you to let me put my body in +this adventure, for it is one from which, if rightly handled, much +advancement is to be gained." + +Edward looked with sparkling eyes at the noble youth at his side. "Never +was hound more keen on the track of a stricken hart than you on the hope +of honor, fair son," said he. "How do you conceive the matter in your +mind?" + +"De Chargny and his men will be such as are worth going far to meet, for +he will have the pick of France under his banner that night. If we did +as this man says and awaited him with the same number of lances, then +I cannot think that there is any spot in Christendom where one would +rather be than in Calais that night." + +"By the rood, fair son, you are right!" cried the King, his face shining +with the thought. "Now which of you, John Chandos or Walter Manny, will +take the thing in charge?" He looked mischievously from one to the other +like a master who dangles a bone betwixt two fierce old hounds. All they +had to say was in their burning, longing eyes. "Nay, John, you must not +take it amiss; but it is Walter's turn, and he shall have it." + +"Shall we not all go under your banner, sire, or that of the Prince?" + +"Nay, it is not fitting that the royal banners of England should be +advanced in so small an adventure. And yet, if you have space in your +ranks for two more cavaliers, both the Prince and I would ride with you +that night." + +The young man stooped and kissed his father's hand. + +"Take this man in your charge, Walter, and do with him as you will. +Guard well lest he betray us once again. Take him from my sight, for +his breath poisons the room. And now, Nigel, if that worthy graybeard +of thine would fain twang his harp or sing to us--but what in God's name +would you have?" + +He had turned, to find his young host upon his knee and his flaxen head +bent in entreaty. + +"What is it, man? What do you crave?" + +"A boon, fair liege!" + +"Well, well, am I to have no peace to-night, with a traitor kneeling +to me in front, and a true man on his knees behind? Out with it, Nigel. +What would you have?" + +"To come with you to Calais." + +"By the rood! your request is fair enough, seeing that our plot is +hatched beneath your very roof. How say you, Walter? Will you take him, +armor and all?" asked King Edward. + +"Say rather will you take me?" said Chandos. "We two are rivals in +honor, Walter, but I am very sure that you would not hold me back." + +"Nay, John, I will be proud to have the best lance in Christendom +beneath my banner." + +"And I to follow so knightly a leader. But Nigel Loring is my Squire, +and so he comes with us also." + +"Then that is settled," said the King, "and now there is no need for +hurry, since there can be no move until the moon has changed. So I pray +you to pass the flagon once again, and to drink with me to the good +knights of France. May they be of great heart and high of enterprise +when we all meet once more within the castle wall of Calais!" + + + + +XI. IN THE HALL OF THE KNIGHT OF DUPLIN + + +The King had come and had gone. Tilford Manor house stood once more dark +and silent, but joy and contentment reigned within its walls. In one +night every trouble had fallen away like some dark curtain which had +shut out the sun. A princely sum of money had come from the King's +treasurer, given in such fashion that there could be no refusal. With +a bag of gold pieces at his saddle-bow Nigel rode once more into +Guildford, and not a beggar on the way who had not cause to bless his +name. + +There he had gone first to the goldsmith and had bought back cup and +salver and bracelet, mourning with the merchant over the evil chance +that gold and gold-work had for certain reasons which only those in the +trade could fully understand gone up in value during the last week, so +that already fifty gold pieces had to be paid more than the price which +Nigel had received. In vain the faithful Aylward fretted and fumed and +muttered a prayer that the day would come when he might feather a shaft +in the merchant's portly paunch. The money had to be paid. + +Thence Nigel hurried to Wat the armorer's and there he bought that very +suit for which he had yearned so short a time before. Then and there he +tried it on in the booth, Wat and his boy walking round him with spanner +and wrench, fixing bolts and twisting rivets. + +"How is that, my fair sir?" cried the armorer as he drew the bassinet +over the head and fastened it to the camail which extended to the +shoulders. "I swear by Tubal Cain that it fits you as the shell fits the +crab! A finer suit never came from Italy or Spain." + +Nigel stood in front of a burnished shield which served as a mirror, +and he turned this way and that, preening himself like a little shining +bird. His smooth breastplate, his wondrous joints with their deft +protection by the disks at knee and elbow and shoulder, the +beautifully flexible gauntlets and sollerets, the shirt of mail and the +close-fitting greave-plates were all things of joy and of beauty in his +eyes. He sprang about the shop to show his lightness, and then running +out he placed his hand on the pommel and vaulted into Pommers' saddle, +while Wat and his boy applauded in the doorway. + +Then springing off and running into the shop again he clanked down upon +his knees before the image of the Virgin upon the smithy wall. There +from his heart he prayed that no shadow or stain should come upon his +soul or his honor whilst these arms incased his body, and that he might +be strengthened to use them for noble and godly ends. A strange turn +this to a religion of peace, and yet for many a century the sword and +the faith had upheld each other and in a darkened world the best ideal +of the soldier had turned in some dim groping fashion toward the light. +"Benedictus dominus deus meus qui docet manus meas ad Praelium et +digitos meos ad bellum!" There spoke the soul of the knightly soldier. + +So the armor was trussed upon the armorer's mule and went back with them +to Tilford, where Nigel put it on once more for the pleasure of the Lady +Ermyntrude, who clapped her skinny hands and shed tears of mingled pain +and joy--pain that she should lose him, joy that he should go so bravely +to the wars. As to her own future, it had been made easy for her, since +it was arranged that a steward should look to the Tilford estate whilst +she had at her disposal a suite of rooms in royal Windsor, where with +other venerable dames of her own age and standing she could spend the +twilight of her days discussing long-forgotten scandals and whispering +sad things about the grandfathers and the grandmothers of the young +courtiers all around them. There Nigel might leave her with an easy mind +when he turned his face to France. + +But there was one more visit to be paid and one more farewell to be +spoken ere Nigel could leave the moorlands where he had dwelled so long. +That evening he donned his brightest tunic, dark purple velvet of Genoa, +with trimming of miniver, his hat with the snow-white feather curling +round the front, and his belt of embossed silver round his loins. +Mounted on lordly Pommers, with his hawk upon wrist and his sword by +his side, never did fairer young gallant or one more modest in mind set +forth upon such an errand. It was but the old Knight of Duplin to whom +he would say farewell; but the Knight of Duplin had two daughters, Edith +and Mary, and Edith was the fairest maid in all the heather-country. + +Sir John Buttesthorn, the Knight of Duplin, was so called because he had +been present at that strange battle, some eighteen years before, when +the full power of Scotland had been for a moment beaten to the ground by +a handful of adventurers and mercenaries, marching under the banner +of no nation, but fighting in their own private quarrel. Their exploit +fills no pages of history, for it is to the interest of no nation to +record it, and yet the rumor and fame of the great fight bulked large in +those times, for it was on that day when the flower of Scotland was left +dead upon the field, that the world first understood that a new force +had arisen in war, and that the English archer, with his robust courage +and his skill with the weapon which he had wielded from his boyhood, was +a power with which even the mailed chivalry of Europe had seriously to +reckon. + +Sir John after his return from Scotland had become the King's own head +huntsman, famous through all England for his knowledge of venery, until +at last, getting overheavy for his horses, he had settled in modest +comfort into the old house of Cosford upon the eastern slope of the +Hindhead hill. Here, as his face grew redder and his beard more white, +he spent the evening of his days, amid hawks and hounds, a flagon of +spiced wine ever at his elbow, and his swollen foot perched upon a stool +before him. There it was that many an old comrade broke his journey as +he passed down the rude road which led from London to Portsmouth, and +thither also came the young gallants of the country to hear the stout +knight's tales of old wars, or to learn, from him that lore of the +forest and the chase which none could teach so well as he. + +But sooth to say, whatever the old knight might think, it was not merely +his old tales and older wine which drew the young men to Cosford, but +rather the fair face of his younger daughter, or the strong soul and +wise counsel of the elder. Never had two more different branches sprung +from the same trunk. Both were tall and of a queenly graceful figure. +But there all resemblance began and ended. + +Edith was yellow as the ripe corn, blue-eyed, winning, mischievous, with +a chattering tongue, a merry laugh, and a smile which a dozen of young +gallants, Nigel of Tilford at their head, could share equally amongst +them. Like a young kitten she played with all things that she found in +life, and some there were who thought that already the claws could be +felt amid the patting of her velvet touch. + +Mary was dark as night, grave-featured, plain-visaged, with steady brown +eyes looking bravely at the world from under a strong black arch of +brows. None could call her beautiful, and when her fair sister cast her +arm round her and placed her cheek against hers, as was her habit when +company was there, the fairness of the one and the plainness of the +other leaped visibly to the eyes of all, each the clearer for that hard +contrast. And yet, here and there, there was one who, looking at her +strange, strong face, and at the passing gleams far down in her dark +eyes, felt that this silent woman with her proud bearing and her queenly +grace had in her something of strength, of reserve and of mystery which +was more to them than all the dainty glitter of her sister. + +Such were the ladies of Cosford toward whom Nigel Loring rode that night +with doublet of Genoan velvet and the new white feather in his cap. + +He had ridden over Thursley Ridge past that old stone where in days gone +by at the place of Thor the wild Saxons worshiped their war-god. Nigel +looked at it with a wary eye and spurred Pommers onward as he passed it, +for still it was said that wild fires danced round it on the moonless +nights, and they who had ears for such things could hear the scream and +sob of those whose lives had been ripped from them that the fiend might +be honored. Thor's stone, Thor's jumps, Thor's punch-bowl--the whole +country-side was one grim monument to the God of Battles, though the +pious monks had changed his uncouth name for that of the Devil his +father, so that it was the Devil's jumps and the Devil's punch-bowl of +which they spoke. Nigel glanced back at the old gray boulder, and he +felt for an instant a shudder pass through his stout heart. Was it the +chill of the evening air, or was it that some inner voice had whispered +to him of the day when he also might lie bound on such a rock and have +such a blood-stained pagan crew howling around him. + +An instant later the rock and his vague fear and all things else had +passed from his mind, for there, down the yellow sandy path, the setting +sun gleaming on her golden hair, her lithe figure bending and swaying +with every heave of the cantering horse, was none other than the same +fair Edith, whose face had come so often betwixt him and his sleep. His +blood rushed hot to his face at the sight, for fearless of all else, his +spirit was attracted and yet daunted by the delicate mystery of woman. +To his pure and knightly soul not Edith alone, but every woman, sat high +and aloof, enthroned and exalted, with a thousand mystic excellencies +and virtues which raised her far above the rude world of man. There +was joy in contact with them; and yet there was fear, fear lest his own +unworthiness, his untrained tongue or rougher ways should in some way +break rudely upon this delicate and tender thing. Such was his thought +as the white horse cantered toward him; but a moment later his vague +doubts were set at rest by the frank voice of the young girl, who waved +her whip in merry greeting. + +"Hail and well met, Nigel!" she cried. "Whither away this evening? Sure +I am that it is not to see your friends of Cosford, for when did you +ever don so brave a doublet for us? Come, Nigel, her name, that I may +hate her for ever." + +"Nay, Edith," said the young Squire, laughing back at the laughing girl. +"I was indeed coming to Cosford." + +"Then we shall ride back together, for I will go no farther. How think +you that I am looking?" + +Nigel's answer was in his eyes as he glanced at the fair flushed face, +the golden hair, the sparkling eyes and the daintily graceful figure +set off in a scarlet-and-black riding-dress. "You are as fair as ever, +Edith." + +"Oh, cold of speech! Surely you were bred for the cloisters, and not for +a lady's bower, Nigel. Had I asked such a question from young Sir George +Brocas or the Squire of Fernhurst, he would have raved from here to +Cosford. They are both more to my taste than you are, Nigel." + +"It is the worse for me, Edith," said Nigel ruefully. + +"Nay, but you must not lose heart." + +"Have I not already lost it?" said he. + +"That is better," she cried, laughing. "You can be quick enough when you +choose, Master Malapert. But you are more fit to speak of high and +weary matters with my sister Mary. She will have none of the prattle and +courtesy of Sir George, and yet I love them well. But tell me, Nigel, +why do you come to Cosford to-night?" + +"To bid you farewell." + +"Me alone?" + +"Nay, Edith, you and your sister Mary and the good knight your father." + +"Sir George would have said that he had come for me alone. Indeed you +are but a poor courtier beside him. But is it true, Nigel, that you go +to France?" + +"Yes, Edith." + +"It was so rumored after the King had been to Tilford. The story goes +that the King goes to France and you in his train. Is that true?" + +"Yes, Edith, it is true." + +"Tell me, then, to what part you go, and when?" + +"That, alas! I may not say." + +"Oh, in sooth!" She tossed her fair head and rode onward in silence, +with compressed lips and angry eyes. + +Nigel glanced at her in surprise and dismay. "Surely, Edith," said he at +last, "you have overmuch regard for my honor that you should wish me to +break the word that I have given?" + +"Your honor belongs to you, and my likings belong to me," said she. "You +hold fast to the one, and I will do the same by the other." + +They rode in silence through Thursley village. Then a thought came to +her mind and in an instant her anger was forgotten and she was hot on a +new scent. + +"What would you do if I were injured, Nigel? I have heard my father say +that small as you are there is no man in these parts could stand against +you. Would you be my champion if I suffered wrong?" + +"Surely I or any man of gentle blood would be the champion of any woman +who had suffered wrong." + +"You or any and I or any--what sort of speech is that? Is it a +compliment, think you, to be mixed with a drove in that fashion? My +question was of you and me. If I were wronged would you be my man?" + +"Try me and see, Edith!" + +"Then I will do so, Nigel. Either Sir George Brocas or the Squire of +Fernhurst would gladly do what I ask, and yet I am of a mind, Nigel, to +turn to you." + +"I pray you to tell me what it is." + +"You know Paul de la Fosse of Shalford?" + +"You mean the small man with the twisted back?" + +"He is no smaller than yourself, Nigel, and as to his back there are +many folk that I know who would be glad to have his face." + +"Nay, I am no judge of that, and I spoke out of no discourtesy. What of +the man?" + +"He has flouted me, Nigel, and I would have revenge." + +"What--on that poor twisted creature?" + +"I tell you that he has flouted me!" + +"But how?" + +"I should have thought that a true cavalier would have flown to my aid, +withouten all these questions. But I will tell you, since I needs must. +Know then that he was one of those who came around me and professed to +be my own. Then, merely because he thought that there were others who +were as dear to me as himself he left me, and now he pays court to Maude +Twynham, the little freckle-faced hussy in his village." + +"But how has this hurt you, since he was no man of thine?" + +"He was one of my men, was he not? And he has made game of me to his +wench. He has told her things about me. He has made me foolish in her +eyes. Yes, yes, I can read it in her saffron face and in her watery eyes +when we meet at the church door on Sundays. She smiles--yes, smiles at +me! Nigel, go to him! Do not slay him, nor even wound him, but lay his +face open with thy riding-whip, and then come back to me and tell me how +I can serve you." + +Nigel's face was haggard with the strife within, for desire ran hot in +every vein, and yet reason shrank with horror. "By Saint Paul! Edith," +he cried, "I see no honor nor advancement of any sort in this thing +which you have asked me to do. Is it for me to strike one who is no +better than a cripple? For my manhood I could not do such a deed, and I +pray you, dear lady, that you will set me some other task." + +Her eyes flashed at him in contempt. "And you are a man-at-arms!" she +cried, laughing in bitter scorn. "You are afraid of a little man who can +scarce walk. Yes, yes, say what you will, I shall ever believe that you +have heard of his skill at fence and of his great spirit, and that your +heart has failed you! You are right, Nigel. He is indeed a perilous man. +Had you done what I asked he would have slain you, and so you have shown +your wisdom." + +Nigel flushed and winced under the words, but he said no more, for his +mind was fighting hard within him, striving to keep that high image +of woman which seemed for a moment to totter on the edge of a fall. +Together in silence, side by side, the little man and the stately woman, +the yellow charger and the white jennet, passed up the sandy winding +track with the gorse and the bracken head-high on either side. Soon a +path branched off through a gateway marked with the boar-heads of the +Buttesthorns, and there was the low widespread house heavily timbered, +loud with the barking of dogs. The ruddy Knight limped forth with +outstretched hand and roaring voice-- + +"What how, Nigel! Good welcome and all hail! I had thought that you had +given over poor friends like us, now that the King had made so much +of you. The horses, varlets, or my crutch will be across you! Hush, +Lydiard! Down, Pelamon! I can scarce hear my voice for your yelping. +Mary, a cup of wine for young Squire Loring!" + +She stood framed in the doorway, tall, mystic, silent, with strange, +wistful face and deep soul shining in her dark, questioning eyes. Nigel +kissed the hand that she held out, and all his faith in woman and his +reverence came back to him as he looked at her. Her sister had slipped +behind her and her fair elfish face smiled her forgiveness of Nigel over +Mary's shoulder. + +The Knight of Duplin leaned his weight upon the young man's arm and +limped his way across the great high-roofed hall to his capacious oaken +chair. "Come, come, the stool, Edith!" he cried. "As God is my help, +that girl's mind swarms with gallants as a granary with rats. Well, +Nigel, I hear strange tales of your spear-running at Tilford and of the +visit of the King. How seemed he? And my old friend Chandos--many happy +hours in the woodlands have we had together--and Manny too, he was ever +a bold and a hard rider--what news of them all?" + +Nigel told to the old Knight all that had occurred, saying little of his +own success and much of his own failure, yet the eyes of the dark woman +burned the brighter as she sat at her tapestry and listened. + +Sir John followed the story with a running fire of oaths, prayers, +thumps with his great fist and flourishes of his crutch. "Well, well, +lad, you could scarce expect to hold your saddle against Manny, and you +have carried yourself well. We are proud of you, Nigel, for you are our +own man, reared in the heather country. But indeed I take shame that you +are not more skilled in the mystery of the woods, seeing that I have had +the teaching of you, and that no one in broad England is my master at +the craft. I pray you to fill your cup again whilst I make use of the +little time that is left to us." + +And straightway the old Knight began a long and weary lecture upon the +times of grace and when each beast and bird was seasonable, with many +anecdotes, illustrations, warnings and exceptions, drawn from his own +great experience. He spoke also of the several ranks and grades of the +chase: how the hare, hart and boar must ever take precedence over +the buck, the doe, the fox, the marten and the roe, even as a knight +banneret does over a knight, while these in turn are of a higher class +to the badger, the wildcat or the otter, who are but the common populace +of the world of beasts. Of blood-stains also he spoke--how the skilled +hunter may see at a glance if blood be dark and frothy, which means a +mortal hurt, or thin and clear, which means that the arrow has struck a +bone. + +"By such signs," said he, "you will surely know whether to lay on the +hounds and cast down the blinks which hinder the stricken deer in its +flight. But above all I pray you, Nigel, to have a care in the use of +the terms of the craft, lest you should make some blunder at table, so +that those who are wiser may have the laugh of you, and we who love you +may be shamed." + +"Nay, Sir John," said Nigel. "I think that after your teaching I can +hold my place with the others." + +The old Knight shook his white head doubtfully. "There is so much to be +learned that there is no one who can be said to know all," said he. "For +example, Nigel, it is sooth that for every collection of beasts of the +forest, and for every gathering of birds of the air, there is their own +private name so that none may be confused with another." + +"I know it, fair sir." + +"You know it, Nigel, but you do not know each separate name, else are +you a wiser man than I had thought you. In truth--none can say that they +know all, though I have myself picked off eighty, and six for a wager +at court, and it is said that the chief huntsman of the Duke of Burgundy +has counted over a hundred--but it is in my mind that he may have found +them as he went, for there was none to say him nay. Answer me now, lad, +how would you say if you saw ten badgers together in the forest?" + +"A cete of badgers, fair sir." + +"Good, Nigel--good, by my faith! And if you walk in Woolmer Forest and +see a swarm of foxes, how would you call it?" + +"A skulk of foxes." + +"And if they be lions?" + +"Nay, fair sir, I am not like to meet several lions in Woolmer Forest." + +"Aye, lad, but there are other forests besides Woolmer, and other lands +besides England, and who can tell how far afield such a knight errant +as Nigel of Tilford may go, when he sees worship to be won? We will say +that you were in the deserts of Nubia, and that afterward at the court +of the great Sultan you wished to say that you had seen several lions, +which is the first beast of the chase, being the king of all animals. +How then would you say it?" + +Nigel scratched his head. "Surely, fair sir, I would be content to say +that I had seen a number of lions, if indeed I could say aught after so +wondrous an adventure." + +"Nay, Nigel, a huntsman would have said that he had seen a pride of +lions, and so proved that he knew the language of the chase. Now had it +been boars instead of lions?" + +"One says a singular of boars." + +"And if they be swine?" + +"Surely it is a herd of swine." + +"Nay, nay, lad, it is indeed sad to see how little you know. Your hands, +Nigel, were always better than your head. No man of gentle birth would +speak of a herd of swine; that is the peasant speech. If you drive them +it is a herd. If you hunt them it is other. What call you them, then, +Edith?" + +"Nay, I know not," said the girl listlessly. A crumpled note brought in +by a varlet was clinched in her right hand and her blue eyes looked afar +into the deep shadows of the roof. + +"But you can tell us, Mary?" + +"Surely, sweet sir, one talks of a sounder of swine." + +The old Knight laughed exultantly. "Here is a pupil who never brings me +shame!" he cried. "Be it lore--of chivalry or heraldry or woodcraft or +what you will, I can always turn to Mary. Many a man can she put to the +blush." + +"Myself among them," said Nigel. + +"Ah, lad, you are a Solomon to some of them. Hark ye! only last week +that jack-fool, the young Lord of Brocas, was here talking of having +seen a covey of pheasants in the wood. One such speech would have been +the ruin of a young Squire at the court. How would you have said it, +Nigel?" + +"Surely, fair sir, it should be a nye of pheasants." + +"Good, Nigel--a nye of pheasants, even as it is a gaggle of geese or a +badling of ducks, a fall of woodcock or a wisp of snipe. But a covey of +pheasants! What sort of talk is that? I made him sit even where you are +sitting, Nigel, and I saw the bottom of two pots of Rhenish ere I let +him up. Even then I fear that he had no great profit from his lesson, +for he was casting his foolish eyes at Edith when he should have been +turning his ears to her father. But where is the wench?" + +"She hath gone forth, father." + +"She ever doth go forth when there is a chance of learning aught that is +useful indoors. But supper will soon be ready, and there is a boar's +ham fresh from the forest with which I would ask your help, Nigel, and +a side of venison from the King's own chase. The tinemen and verderers +have not forgotten me yet, and my larder is ever full. Blow three moots +on the horn, Mary, that the varlets may set the table, for the growing +shadow and my loosening belt warn me that it is time." + + + + +XII. HOW NIGEL FOUGHT THE TWISTED MAN OF SHALFORD + + +In the days of which you read all classes, save perhaps the very poor, +fared better in meat and in drink than they have ever done since. The +country was covered with woodlands--there were seventy separate forests +in England alone, some of them covering half a shire. Within these +forests the great beasts of the chase were strictly preserved, but the +smaller game, the hares, the rabbits, the birds, which swarmed round the +coverts, found their way readily into the poor man's pot. Ale was very +cheap, and cheaper still was the mead which every peasant could make +for himself out of the wild honey in the tree-trunks. There were many +tea-like drinks also, which were brewed by the poor at no expense: +mallow tea, tansy tea, and others the secret of which has passed. + +Amid the richer classes there was rude profusion, great joints ever on +the sideboard, huge pies, beasts of the field and beasts of the chase, +with ale and rough French or Rhenish wines to wash them down. But the +very rich had attained to a high pitch of luxury in their food, and +cookery was a science in which the ornamentation of the dish was +almost as important as the dressing of the food. It was gilded, it was +silvered, it was painted, it was surrounded with flame. From the boar +and the peacock down to such strange food as the porpoise and the +hedgehog, every dish had its own setting and its own sauce, very strange +and very complex, with flavorings of dates, currants, cloves, vinegar, +sugar and honey, of cinnamon, ground ginger, sandalwood, saffron, brawn +and pines. It was the Norman tradition to eat in moderation, but to have +a great profusion of the best and of the most delicate from which to +choose. From them came this complex cookery, so unlike the rude and +often gluttonous simplicity of the old Teutonic stock. + +Sir John Buttesthorn was of that middle class who fared in the old +fashion, and his great oak supper-table groaned beneath the generous +pastries, the mighty joints and the great flagons. Below were the +household, above on a raised dais the family table, with places ever +ready for those frequent guests who dropped in from the high road +outside. Such a one had just come, an old priest, journeying from the +Abbey of Chertsey to the Priory of Saint John at Midhurst. He passed +often that way, and never without breaking his journey at the hospitable +board of Cosford. + +"Welcome again, good Father Athanasius!" cried the burly Knight. "Come +sit here on my right and give me the news of the country-side, for there +is never a scandal but the priests are the first to know it." + +The priest, a kindly, quiet man, glanced at an empty place upon the +farther side of his host. "Mistress Edith?" said he. + +"Aye, aye, where is the hussy?" cried her father impatiently. "Mary, I +beg you to have the horn blown again, that she may know that the supper +is on the table. What can the little owlet do abroad at this hour of the +night?" + +There was trouble in the priest's gentle eyes as he touched the Knight +upon the sleeve. "I have seen Mistress Edith within this hour," said he. +"I fear that she will hear no horn that you may blow, for she must be at +Milford ere now." + +"At Milford? What does she there?" + +"I pray you, good Sir John, to abate your voice somewhat, for indeed +this matter is for our private discourse, since it touches the honor of +a lady." + +"Her honor?" Sir John's ruddy face had turned redder still, as he stared +at the troubled features of the priest. "Her honor, say you--the honor +of my daughter? Make good those words, or never set your foot over the +threshold of Cosford again!" + +"I trust that I have done no wrong, Sir John, but indeed I must say what +I have seen, else would I be a false friend and an unworthy priest." + +"Haste man, haste! What in the Devil's name have you seen?" + +"Know you a little man, partly misshapen, named Paul de la Fosse?" + +"I know him well. He is a man of noble family and coat-armor, being the +younger brother of Sir Eustace de la Fosse of Shalford. Time was when I +had thought that I might call him son, for there was never a day that +he did not pass with my girls, but I fear that his crooked back sped him +ill in his wooing." + +"Alas, Sir John! It is his mind that is more crooked than his back. He +is a perilous man with women, for the Devil hath given him such a tongue +and such an eye that he charms them even as the basilisk. Marriage may +be in their mind, but never in his, so that I could count a dozen and +more whom he has led to their undoing. It is his pride and his boast +over the whole countryside." + +"Well, well, and what is this to me or mine?" + +"Even now, Sir John, as I rode my mule up the road I met this man +speeding toward his home. A woman rode by his side, and though her face +was hooded I heard her laugh as she passed me. That laugh I have heard +before, and it was under this very roof, from the lips of Mistress +Edith." + +The Knight's knife dropped from his hand. But the debate had been such +that neither Mary nor Nigel could fail to have heard it. Mid the rough +laughter and clatter of voices from below the little group at the high +table had a privacy of their own. + +"Fear not, father," said the girl--"indeed, the good Father Athanasius +hath fallen into error, and Edith will be with us anon. I have heard her +speak of this man many times of late, and always with bitter words." + +"It is true, sir," cried Nigel eagerly. "It was only this very evening +as we rode over Thursley Moor that Mistress Edith told me that she +counted him not a fly, and that she would be glad if he were beaten for +his evil deeds." + +But the wise priest shook his silvery locks. "Nay, there is ever danger +when a woman speaks like that. Hot hate is twin brother to hot love. Why +should she speak so if there were not some bond between them?" + +"And yet," said Nigel, "what can have changed her thoughts in three +short hours? She was here in the hall with us since I came. By Saint +Paul, I will not believe it!" + +Mary's face darkened. "I call to mind," said she, "that a note was +brought her by Hannekin the stable varlet when you were talking to us, +fair sir, of the terms of the chase. She read it and went forth." + +Sir John sprang to his feet, but sank into his chair again with a groan. +"Would that I were dead," he cried, "ere I saw dishonor come upon my +house, and am so tied with this accursed foot that I can neither examine +if it be true, nor yet avenge it! If my son Oliver were here, then all +would be well. Send me this stable varlet that I may question him." + +"I pray you, fair and honored sir," said Nigel, "that you will take me +for your son this night, that I may handle this matter in the way which +seems best. On jeopardy of my honor I will do all that a man may." + +"Nigel, I thank you. There is no man in Christendom to whom I would +sooner turn." + +"But I would lean your mind in one matter, fair sir. This man, Paul de +la Fosse, owns broad acres, as I understand, and comes of noble blood. +There is no reason if things be as we fear that he should not marry your +daughter?" + +"Nay, she could not wish for better." + +"It is well. And first I would question this Hannekin; but it shall +be done in such a fashion that none shall know, for indeed it is not +a matter for the gossip of servants. But if you will show me the man, +Mistress Mary, I will take him out to tend my own horse, and so I shall +learn all that he has to tell." + +Nigel was absent for some time, and when he returned the shadow upon +his face brought little hope to the anxious hearts at the high table. +"I have locked him in the stable loft, lest he talk too much," said +he, "for my questions must have shown him whence the wind blew. It was +indeed from this man that the note came, and he had brought with him a +spare horse for the lady." + +The old Knight groaned, and his face sank upon his hands. + +"Nay, father, they watch you!" whispered Mary. "For the honor of our +house let us keep a bold face to all." Then, raising her young clear +voice, so that it sounded through the room: "If you ride eastward, +Nigel, I would fain go with you, that my sister may not come back +alone." + +"We will ride together, Mary," said Nigel, rising; then in a lower +voice: "But we cannot go alone, and if we take a servant all is known. I +pray you to stay at home and leave the matter with me." + +"Nay, Nigel, she may sorely need a woman's aid, and what woman should it +be save her own sister? I can take my tire-woman with us." + +"Nay, I shall ride with you myself if your impatience can keep within +the powers of my mule," said the old priest. + +"But it is not your road, father?" + +"The only road of a true priest is that which leads to the good of +others. Come, my children, and we will go together." + +And so it was that stout Sir John Buttesthorn, the aged Knight of +Duplin, was left alone at his own high table, pretending to eat, +pretending to drink, fidgeting in his seat, trying hard to seem +unconcerned with his mind and body in a fever, while below him his +varlets and handmaids laughed and jested, clattering their cups and +clearing their trenchers, all unconscious of the dark shadow which threw +its gloom over the lonely man upon the dais above. + +Meantime the Lady Mary upon the white jennet which her sister had ridden +on the same evening, Nigel on his war-horse, and the priest on the mule, +clattered down the rude winding road which led to London. The country on +either side was a wilderness of heather moors and of morasses from which +came the strange crying of night-fowl. A half-moon shone in the sky +between the rifts of hurrying clouds. The lady rode in silence, absorbed +in the thought of the task before them, the danger and the shame. + +Nigel chatted in a low tone with the priest. From him he learned more of +the evil name of this man whom they followed. His house at Shalford was +a den of profligacy and vice. No woman could cross that threshold and +depart unstained. In some strange fashion, inexplicable and yet common, +the man, with all his evil soul and his twisted body, had yet some +strange fascination for women, some mastery over them which compelled +them to his will. Again and again he had brought ruin to a household, +again and again his adroit tongue and his cunning wit had in some +fashion saved him from the punishment of his deeds. His family was great +in the county, and his kinsmen held favor with the King, so that his +neighbors feared to push things too far against him. Such was the man, +malignant and ravenous, who had stooped like some foul night-hawk and +borne away to his evil nest the golden beauty of Cosford. Nigel said +little as he listened, but he raised his hunting-dagger to his tightened +lips, and thrice he kissed the cross of its handle. + +They had passed over the moors and through the village of Milford and +the little township of Godalming, until their path turned southward over +the Pease marsh and crossed the meadows of Shalford. There on the dark +hillside glowed the red points of light which marked the windows of the +house which they sought. A somber arched avenue of oak-trees led up to +it, and then they were in the moon-silvered clearing in front. + +From the shadow of the arched door there sprang two rough serving-men, +bearded and gruff, great cudgels in their hands, to ask them who they +were and what their errand. The Lady Mary had slipped from her horse and +was advancing to the door, but they rudely barred her way. + +"Nay, nay, our master needs no more!" cried one, with a hoarse laugh. +"Stand back, mistress, whoever you be! The house is shut, and our lord +sees no guests to-night." + +"Fellow," said Nigel, speaking low and clear, "stand back from us! Our +errand is with your master." + +"Bethink you, my children," cried the old priest, "would it not be best +perchance, that I go in to him and see whether the voice of the Church +may not soften this hard heart? I fear bloodshed if you enter." + +"Nay, father, I pray you to stay here for the nonce," said Nigel. "And +you, Mary, do you bide with the good priest, for we know not what may be +within." + +Again he turned to the door, and again the two men barred his passage. + +"Stand back, I say, back for your lives!" said Nigel. "By Saint Paul! I +should think it shame to soil my sword with such as you, but my soul is +set, and no man shall bar my path this night." + +The men shrank from the deadly menace of that gentle voice. + +"Hold!" said one of them, peering through the darkness, "is it not +Squire Loring of Tilford?" + +"That is indeed my name." + +"Had you spoken it I for one would not have stopped your way. Put down +your staff, Wat, for this is no stranger, but the Squire of Tilford." + +"As well for him," grumbled the other, lowering his cudgel with an +inward prayer of thanksgiving. "Had it been otherwise I should have had +blood upon my soul to-night. But our master said nothing of neighbors +when he ordered us to hold the door. I will enter and ask him what is +his will." + +But already Nigel was past them and had pushed open the outer door. +Swift as he was, the Lady Mary was at his very heels, and the two passed +together into the hall beyond. + +It was a great room, draped and curtained with black shadows, with one +vivid circle of light in the center, where two oil lamps shone upon a +small table. A meal was laid upon the table, but only two were seated at +it, and there were no servants in the room. At the near end was Edith, +her golden hair loose and streaming down over the scarlet and black of +her riding-dress. + +At the farther end the light beat strongly upon the harsh face and the +high-drawn misshapen shoulders of the lord of the house. A tangle +of black hair surmounted a high rounded forehead, the forehead of a +thinker, with two deep-set cold gray eyes twinkling sharply from under +tufted brows. His nose was curved and sharp, like the beak of some cruel +bird, but below the whole of his clean-shaven powerful face was marred +by the loose slabbing mouth and the round folds of the heavy chin. +His knife in one hand and a half-gnawed bone in the other, he looked +fiercely up, like some beast disturbed in his den, as the two intruders +broke in upon his hall. + +Nigel stopped midway between the door and the table. His eyes and those +of Paul de la Fosse were riveted upon each other. But Mary, with her +woman's soul flooded over with love and pity, had rushed forward and +cast her arms round her younger sister. Edith had sprung up from her +chair, and with averted face tried to push the other away from her. + +"Edith, Edith! By the Virgin, I implore you to come back with us, and +to leave this wicked man!" cried Mary. "Dear sister, you would not break +our father's heart, nor bring his gray head in dishonor to the grave! +Come back Edith, come back and all is well." + +But Edith pushed her away, and her fair cheeks were flushed with her +anger. "What right have you over me, Mary, you who are but two years +older, that you should follow me over the country-side as though I were +a runagate villain and you my mistress? Do you yourself go back, and +leave me to do that which seems best in my own eyes." + +But Mary still held her in her arms, and still strove to soften the hard +and angry heart. "Our mother is dead, Edith. I thank God that she died +ere she saw you under this roof! But I stand for her, as I have done all +my life, since I am indeed your elder. It is with her voice that I beg +and pray you that you will not trust this man further, and that you will +come back ere it be too late!" + +Edith writhed from her grasp, and stood flushed and defiant, with +gleaming, angry eyes fixed upon her sister. "You may speak evil of him +now," said she, "but there was a time when Paul de la Fosse came to +Cosford, and who so gentle and soft-spoken to him then as wise, grave, +sister Mary? But he has learned to love another; so now he is the wicked +man, and it is shame to be seen under his roof! From what I see of my +good pious sister and her cavalier it is sin for another to ride at +night with a man at your side, but it comes easy enough to you. Look +at your own eye, good sister, ere you would take the speck from that of +another." + +Mary stood irresolute and greatly troubled, holding down her pride +and her anger, but uncertain how best to deal with this strong wayward +spirit. + +"It is not a time for bitter words, dear sister," said she, and again +she laid her hand upon her sister's sleeve. "All that you say may be +true. There was indeed a time when this man was friend to us both, and I +know even as you do the power which he may have to win a woman's heart. +But I know him now, and you do not. I know the evil that he has wrought, +the dishonor that he has brought, the perjury that lies upon his soul, +the confidence betrayed, the promise unfulfilled--all this I know. Am I +to see my own sister caught in the same well-used trap? Has it shut +upon you, child? Am I indeed already too late? For God's sake, tell me, +Edith, that it is not so?" + +Edith plucked her sleeve from her sister and made two swift steps to the +head of the table. Paul de la Fosse still sat silent with his eyes upon +Nigel. Edith laid her hand upon his shoulder: "This is the man I love, +and the only man that I have ever loved. This is my husband," said she. + +At the word Mary gave a cry of joy. + +"And is it so?" she cried. "Nay, then all is in honor, and God will see +to the rest. If you are man and wife before the altar, then indeed why +should I, or any other, stand between you? Tell me that it is indeed so, +and I return this moment to make your father a happy man." + +Edith pouted like a naughty child. "We are man and wife in the eyes of +God. Soon also we shall be wedded before all the world. We do but wait +until next Monday when Paul's brother, who is a priest at St. Albans, +will come to wed us. Already a messenger has sped for him, and he will +come, will he not, dear love?" + +"He will come," said the master of Shalford, still with his eyes fixed +upon the silent Nigel. + +"It is a lie; he will not come," said a voice from the door. + +It was the old priest, who had followed the others as far as the +threshold. + +"He will not come," he repeated as he advanced into the room. "Daughter, +my daughter, hearken to the words of one who is indeed old enough to be +your earthly father. This lie has served before. He has ruined others +before you with it. The man has no brother at Saint Albans. I know his +brothers well, and there is no priest among them. Before Monday, when +it is all too late, you will have found the truth as others have done +before you. Trust him not, but come with us!" + +Paul de la Fosse looked up at her with a quick smile and patted the hand +upon his shoulder. + +"Do you speak to them, Edith," said he. + +Her eyes flashed with scorn as she surveyed them each in turn, the +woman, the youth and the priest. + +"I have but one word to say to them," said she. "It is that they go +hence and trouble us no more. Am I not a free woman? Have I not said +that this is the only man I ever loved? I have loved him long. He did +not know it, and in despair he turned to another. Now he knows all and +never again can doubt come between us. Therefore I will stay here at +Shalford and come to Cosford no more save upon the arm of my husband. +Am I so weak that I would believe the tales you tell against him? Is it +hard for a jealous woman and a wandering priest to agree upon a lie? No, +no, Mary, you can go hence and take your cavalier and your priest with +you, for here I stay, true to my love and safe in my trust upon his +honor!" + +"Well spoken, on my faith, my golden bird!" said the little master of +Shalford. "Let me add my own word to that which has been said. You would +not grant me any virtue in your unkindly speech, good Lady Mary, and +yet you must needs confess that at least I have good store of patience, +since I have not set my dogs upon your friends who have come between me +and my ease. But even to the most virtuous there comes at last a time +when poor human frailty may prevail, and so I pray you to remove both +yourself, your priest and your valiant knight errant, lest perhaps there +be more haste and less dignity when at last you do take your leave. +Sit down, my fair love, and let us turn once more to our supper." He +motioned her to her chair, and he filled her wine-cup as well as his +own. + +Nigel had said no word since he had entered the room, but his look had +never lost its set purpose, nor had his brooding eyes ever wandered from +the sneering face of the deformed master of Shalford. Now he turned with +swift decision to Mary and to the priest. + +"That is over," said he in a low voice. "You have done all that you +could, and now it is for me to play my part as well as I am able. I pray +you, Mary, and you, good father, that you will await me outside." + +"Nay, Nigel, if there is danger--" + +"It is easier for me, Mary, if you are not there. I pray you to go. I +can speak to this man more at my ease." + +She looked at him with questioning eyes and then obeyed. + +Nigel plucked at the priest's gown. + +"I pray you, father, have you your book of offices with you?" + +"Surely, Nigel, it is ever in my breast." + +"Have it ready, father!" + +"For what, my son?" + +"There are two places you may mark; there is the service of marriage and +there is the prayer for the dying. Go with her, father, and be ready at +my call." + +He closed the door behind them and was alone with this ill-matched +couple. They both turned in their chairs to look at him, Edith with a +defiant face, the man with a bitter smile upon his lips and malignant +hatred in his eyes. + +"What," said he, "the knight errant still lingers? Have we not heard of +his thirst for glory? What new venture does he see that he should tarry +here?" + +Nigel walked to the table. + +"There is no glory and little venture," said he; "but I have come for +a purpose and I must do it. I learn from your own lips, Edith, that you +will not leave this man." + +"If you have ears you have heard it." + +"You are, as you have said, a free woman, and who can gainsay you? But +I have known you, Edith, since we played as boy and girl on the +heather-hills together. I will save you from this man's cunning and from +your own foolish weakness." + +"What would you do?" + +"There is a priest without. He will marry you now. I will see you +married ere I leave this hall." + +"Or else?" sneered the man. + +"Or else you never leave this hall alive. Nay, call not for your +servants or your dogs! By Saint Paul! I swear to you that this matter +lies between us three, and that if any fourth comes at your call you, +at least, shall never live to see what comes of it! Speak then, Paul of +Shalford! Will you wed this woman now, or will you not?" + +Edith was on her feet with outstretched arms between them. "Stand back, +Nigel! He is small and weak. You would not do him a hurt! Did you not +say so this very day? For God's sake, Nigel, do not look at him so! +There is death in your eyes." + +"A snake may be small and weak, Edith, yet every honest man would place +his heel upon it. Do you stand back yourself, for my purpose is set." + +"Paul!" she turned her eyes to the pale sneering face. "Bethink you, +Paul! Why should you not do what he asks? What matter to you whether it +be now or on Monday? I pray you, dear Paul, for my sake let him have his +way! Your brother can read the service again if it so please him. Let us +wed now, Paul, and then all is well." + +He had risen from his chair, and he dashed aside her appealing hands. +"You foolish woman," he snarled, "and you, my savior of fair damsels, +who are so bold against a cripple, you have both to learn that if my +body be weak there is the soul of my breed within it! To marry because +a boasting, ranting, country Squire would have me do so--no, by the soul +of God, I will die first! On Monday I will marry, and no day sooner, so +let that be your answer." + +"It is the answer that I wished," said Nigel, "for indeed I see no +happiness in this marriage, and the other may well be the better way. +Stand aside, Edith!" He gently forced her to one side and drew his +sword. + +De la Fosse cried aloud at the sight. "I have no sword. You would not +murder me?" said he, leaning back with haggard-face and burning eyes +against his chair. The bright steel shone in the lamp-light. Edith +shrank back, her hand over her face. + +"Take this sword!" said Nigel, and he turned the hilt to the cripple. +"Now!" he added, as he drew his hunting knife. "Kill me if you can, Paul +de la Fosse, for as God is my help I will do as much for you!" + +The woman, half swooning and yet spellbound and fascinated, looked on +at that strange combat. For a moment the cripple stood with an air of +doubt, the sword grasped in his nerveless fingers. Then as he saw the +tiny blade in Nigel's hand the greatness of the advantage came home to +him, and a cruel smile tightened his loose lips. Slowly, step by step he +advanced, his chin sunk upon his chest, his eyes glaring from under the +thick tangle of his brows like fires through the brushwood. Nigel waited +for him, his left hand forward, his knife down by his hip, his face +grave, still and watchful. + +Nearer and nearer yet, with stealthy step, and then with a bound and a +cry of hatred and rage Paul de la Fosse had sped his blow. It was well +judged and well swung, but point would have been wiser than edge against +that supple body and those active feet. Quick as a flash, Nigel had +sprung inside the sweep of the blade, taking a flesh wound on his left +forearm, as he pressed it under the hilt. The next instant the cripple +was on the ground and Nigel's dagger was at his throat. + +"You dog!" he whispered. "I have you at my mercy! Quick ere I strike, +and for the last time! Will you marry or no?" + +The crash of the fall and the sharp point upon his throat had cowed the +man's spirit. He looked up with a white face and the sweat gleamed upon +his forehead. There was terror in his eyes. + +"Nay, take your knife from me!" he cried. "I cannot die like a calf in +the shambles." + +"Will you marry?" + +"Yes, yes, I will wed her! After all she is a good wench and I might +do worse. Let me up! I tell you I will marry her! What more would you +have?" + +Nigel stood above him with his foot upon his misshapen body. He had +picked up his sword, and the point rested upon the cripple's breast. + +"Nay, you will bide where you are! If you are to live--and my conscience +cries loud against it--at least your wedding will be such as your sins +have deserved. Lie there, like the crushed worm that you are!" Then +he raised his voice. "Father Athanasius!" he cried. "What ho! Father +Athanasius!" + +The old priest ran to the cry, and so did the Lady Mary. A strange sight +it was that met them now in the circle of light, the frightened girl, +half-unconscious against the table, the prostrate cripple, and Nigel +with foot and sword upon his body. + +"Your book, father!" cried Nigel. "I know not if what we do is good or +ill; but we must wed them, for there is no way out." + +But the girl by the table had given a great cry, and she was clinging +and sobbing with her arms round her sister's neck. + +"Oh, Mary, I thank the Virgin that you have come! I thank the Virgin +that it is not too late! What did he say? He said that he was a de la +Fosse and that he would not be married at the sword-point. My heart went +out to him when he said it. But I, am I not a Buttesthorn, and shall it +be said that I would marry a man who could be led to the altar with a +knife at his throat? No, no, I see him as he is! I know him now, the +mean spirit, the lying tongue! Can I not read in his eyes that he has +indeed deceived me, that he would have left me as you say that he has +left others? Take me home, Mary, my sister, for you have plucked me back +this night from the very mouth of Hell!" + +And so it was that the master of Shalford, livid and brooding, was left +with his wine at his lonely table, while the golden beauty of Cosford, +hot with shame and anger, her fair face wet with tears, passed out safe +from the house of infamy into the great calm and peace of the starry +night. + + + + +XIII. HOW THE COMRADES JOURNEYED DOWN THE OLD, OLD ROAD + + +And now the season of the moonless nights was drawing nigh and the +King's design was ripe. Very secretly his preparations were made. +Already the garrison of Calais, which consisted of five hundred archers +and two hundred men-at-arms, could, if forewarned, resist any attack +made upon it. But it was the King's design not merely to resist the +attack, but to capture the attackers. Above all it was his wish to find +the occasion for one of those adventurous passages of arms which had +made his name famous throughout Christendom as the very pattern and +leader of knight-errant chivalry. + +But the affair wanted careful handling. The arrival of any, +reinforcements, or even the crossing of any famous soldier, would have +alarmed the French and warned them that their plot had been discovered. +Therefore it was in twos and threes in the creyers and provision ships +which were continually passing from shore to shore that the chosen +warriors and their squires were brought to Calais. There they were +passed at night through the water-gate into the castle where they could +lie hidden, unknown to the townsfolk, until the hour for action had +come. + +Nigel had received word from Chandos to join him at "The Sign of the +Broom-Pod" in Winchelsea. Three days beforehand he and Aylward rode from +Tilford all armed and ready for the wars. Nigel was in hunting-costume, +blithe and gay, with his precious armor and his small baggage trussed +upon the back of a spare horse which Aylward led by the bridle. The +archer had himself a good black mare, heavy and slow, but strong enough +to be fit to carry his powerful frame. In his brigandine of chain mail +and his steel cap, with straight strong sword by his side, his yellow +long-bow jutting over his shoulder, and his quiver of arrows supported +by a scarlet baldric, he was such a warrior as any knight might well +be proud to have in his train. All Tilford trailed behind them, as they +rode slowly over the long slope of heath land which skirts the flank of +Crooksbury Hill. + +At the summit of the rise Nigel reined in Pommers and looked back at the +little village behind him. There was the old dark manor house, with one +bent figure leaning upon a stick and gazing dimly after him from beside +the door. He looked at the high-pitched roof, the timbered walls, the +long trail of swirling blue smoke which rose from the single chimney, +and the group of downcast old servants who lingered at the gate, John +the cook, Weathercote the minstrel, and Red Swire the broken soldier. +Over the river amid the trees he could see the grim, gray tower of +Waverley, and even as he looked, the iron bell, which had so often +seemed to be the hoarse threatening cry of an enemy, clanged out its +call to prayer. Nigel doffed his velvet cap and prayed also--prayed that +peace might remain at home, and good warfare, in which honor and fame +should await him, might still be found abroad. Then, waving his hand +to the people, he turned his horse's head and rode slowly eastward. A +moment later Aylward broke from the group of archers and laughing girls +who clung to his bridle and his stirrup straps, and rode on, blowing +kisses over his shoulder. So at last the two comrades, gentle and +simple, were fairly started on their venture. + +There are two seasons of color in those parts: the yellow, when the +country-side is flaming with the gorse-blossoms, and the crimson, when +all the long slopes are smoldering with the heather. So it was now. +Nigel looked back from time to time, as he rode along the narrow track +where the ferns and the ling brushed his feet on either side, and as he +looked it seemed to him that wander where he might he would never see a +fairer scene than that of his own home. Far to the westward, glowing +in the morning light, rolled billow after billow of ruddy heather land, +until they merged into the dark shadows of Woolmer Forest and the pale +clear green of the Butser chalk downs. Never in his life had Nigel +wandered far beyond these limits, and the woodlands, the down and the +heather were dear to his soul. It gave him a pang in his heart now as +he turned his face away from them; but if home lay to the westward, out +there to the eastward was the great world of adventure, the noble stage +where each of his kinsmen in turn had played his manly part and left a +proud name behind. + +How often he had longed for this day! And now it had come with no shadow +cast behind it. Dame Ermyntrude was under the King's protection. The old +servants had their future assured. The strife with the monks of Waverley +had been assuaged. He had a noble horse under him, the best of weapons, +and a stout follower at his back. Above all he was bound on a gallant +errand with the bravest knight in England as his leader. All these +thoughts surged together in his mind, and he whistled and sang, as he +rode, out of the joy of his heart, while Pommers sidled and curveted in +sympathy with the mood of his master. Presently, glancing back, he +saw from Aylward's downcast eyes and Puckered brow that the archer was +clouded with trouble. He reined his horse to let him come abreast of +him. + +"How now, Aylward?" said he. "Surely of all men in England you and I +should be the most blithe this morning, since we ride forward with all +hopes of honorable advancement. By Saint Paul! ere we see these heather +hills once more we shall either worshipfully win worship, or we shall +venture our persons in the attempt. These be glad thoughts, and why +should you be downcast?" + +Aylward shrugged his broad shoulders, and a wry smile dawned upon his +rugged face. "I am indeed as limp as a wetted bowstring," said he. "It +is the nature of a man that he should be sad when he leaves the woman he +loves." + +"In truth, yes!" cried Nigel, and in a flash the dark eyes of Mary +Buttesthorn rose before him, and he heard her low, sweet, earnest voice +as he had heard it that night when they brought her frailer sister back +from Shalford Manor, a voice which made all that was best and noblest +in a man thrill within his soul. "Yet, bethink you, archer, that what +a woman loves in man is not his gross body, but rather his soul, his +honor, his fame, the deeds with which he has made his life beautiful. +Therefore you are winning love as well as glory when you turn to the +wars." + +"It may be so," said Aylward; "but indeed it goes to my heart to see the +pretty dears weep, and I would fain weep as well to keep them company. +When Mary--or was it Dolly?--nay, it was Martha, the red-headed girl +from the mill--when she held tight to my baldric it was like snapping my +heart-string to pluck myself loose." + +"You speak of one name and then of another," said Nigel. "How is she +called then, this maid whom you love?" + +Aylward pushed back his steel cap and scratched his bristling head with +some embarrassment. "Her name," said he, "is Mary Dolly Martha Susan +Jane Cicely Theodosia Agnes Johanna Kate." + +Nigel laughed as Aylward rolled out this prodigious title. "I had no +right to take you to the wars," said he; "for by Saint Paul! it is very +clear that I have widowed half the parish. But I saw your aged father +the franklin. Bethink you of the joy that will fill his heart when he +hears that you have done some small deed in France, and so won honor in +the eyes of all." + +"I fear that honor will not help him to pay his arrears of rent to the +sacrist of Waverley," said Aylward. "Out he will go on the roadside, +honor and all, if he does not find ten nobles by next Epiphany. But if I +could win a ransom or be at the storming of a rich city, then indeed the +old man would be proud of me. 'Thy sword must help my spade, Samkin,' +said he as he kissed me goodby. Ah! it would indeed be a happy day for +him and for all if I could ride back with a saddle-bag full of gold +pieces, and please God, I shall dip my hand in somebody's pocket before +I see Crooksbury Hill once more!" + +Nigel shook his head, for indeed it seemed hopeless to try to bridge the +gulf between them. Already they had made such good progress along the +bridle-path through the heather that the little hill of Saint Catharine +and the ancient shrine upon its summit loomed up before them. Here +they crossed the road from the south to London, and at the crossing +two wayfarers were waiting who waved their hands in greeting, the one +a tall, slender, dark woman upon a white jennet, the other a very thick +and red-faced old man, whose weight seemed to curve the back of the +stout gray cob which he bestrode. + +"What how, Nigel!" he cried. "Mary has told me that you make a start +this morning, and we have waited here this hour and more on the chance +of seeing you pass. Come, lad, and have a last stoup of English ale, for +many a time amid the sour French wines you will long for the white foam +under your nose, and the good homely twang of it." + +Nigel had to decline the draft, for it meant riding into Guildford town, +a mile out of his course, but very gladly he agreed with Mary that +they should climb the path to the old shrine and offer a last orison +together. The knight and Aylward waited below with the horses; and so it +came about that Nigel and Mary found themselves alone under the solemn +old Gothic arches, in front of the dark shadowed recess in which gleamed +the golden reliquary of the saint. In silence they knelt side by side +in prayer, and then came forth once more out of the gloom and the shadow +into the fresh sunlit summer morning. They stopped ere they descended +the path, and looked to right and left at the fair meadows and the blue +Wey curling down the valley. + +"What have you prayed for, Nigel?" said she. + +"I have prayed that God and His saints will hold my spirit high and will +send me back from France in such a fashion that I may dare to come to +you and to claim you for my own." + +"Bethink you well what it is that you say, Nigel," said she. "What you +are to me only my own heart can tell; but I would never set eyes upon +your face again rather than abate by one inch that height of honor and +worshipful achievement to which you may attain." + +"Nay, my dear and most sweet lady, how should you abate it, since it is +the thought of you which will nerve my arm and uphold my heart?" + +"Think once more, my fair lord, and hold yourself bound by no word which +you have said. Let it be as the breeze which blows past our faces and +is heard of no more. Your soul yearns for honor. To that has it ever +turned. Is there room in it for love also? or is it possible that both +shall live at their highest in one mind? Do you not call to mind that +Galahad and other great knights of old have put women out of their lives +that they might ever give their whole soul and strength to the winning +of honor? May it not be that I shall be a drag upon you, that your heart +may shrink from some honorable task, lest it should bring risk and pain +to me? Think well before you answer, my fair lord, for indeed my very +heart would break if it should ever happen that through love of me your +high hopes and great promise should miss fulfilment." + +Nigel looked at her with sparkling eyes. The soul which shone through +her dark face had transformed it for the moment into a beauty more +lofty and more rare than that of her shallow sister. He bowed before the +majesty of the woman, and pressed his lips to her hand. "You are like +a star upon my path which guides me on the upward way," said he. "Our +souls are set together upon the finding of honor, and how shall we hold +each other back when our purpose is the same?" + +She shook her proud head. "So it seems to you now, fair lord, but it may +be otherwise as the years pass. How shall you prove that I am indeed a +help and not a hindrance?" + +"I will prove it by my deeds, fair and dear lady," said Nigel. "Here at +the shrine of the holy Catharine, on this, the Feast of Saint Margaret, +I take my oath that I will do three deeds in your honor as a proof of my +high love before I set eyes upon your face again, and these three deeds +shall stand as a proof to you that if I love you dearly, still I will +not let the thought of you stand betwixt me and honorable achievement!" + +Her face shone with her love and her pride. "I also make my oath," said +she, "and I do it in the name of the holy Catharine whose shrine is hard +by. I swear that I will hold myself for you until these three deeds be +done and we meet once more; also that if--which may dear Christ forfend! +you fall in doing them then I shall take the veil in Shalford nunnery +and look upon no man's face again! Give me your hand, Nigel." + +She had taken a little bangle of gold filigree work from her arm and +fastened it upon his sunburnt wrist, reading aloud to him the engraved +motto in old French: "Fais ce que dois, adviegne que pourra--c'est +commande au chevalier." Then for one moment they fell into each other's +arms and with kiss upon kiss, a loving man and a tender woman, they +swore their troth to each other. But the old knight was calling +impatiently from below and together they hurried down the winding path +to where the horses waited under the sandy bluff. + +As far as the Shalford crossing Sir John rode by Nigel's arm, and many +were the last injunctions which he gave him concerning woodcraft, and +great his anxiety lest he confuse a spay with a brocket, or either with +a hind. At last when they came to the reedy edge of the Wey the old +knight and his daughter reined up their horses. Nigel looked back at +them ere he entered the dark Chantry woods, and saw them still gazing +after him and waving their hands. Then the path wound amongst the trees +and they were lost to sight; but long afterwards when a clearing exposed +once more the Shalford meadows Nigel saw that the old man upon the gray +cob was riding slowly toward Saint Catharine's Hill, but that the girl +was still where he had seen her last, leaning forward in her saddle and +straining her eyes to pierce the dark forest which screened her lover +from her view. It was but a fleeting glance through a break in the +foliage, and yet in after days of stress and toil in far distant lands +it was that one little picture--the green meadow, the reeds, the slow +blue-winding river, and the eager bending graceful figure upon the white +horse--which was the clearest and the dearest image of that England +which he had left behind him. + +But if Nigel's friends had learned that this was the morning of his +leaving, his enemies too were on the alert. The two comrades had just +emerged from the Chantry woods and were beginning the ascent of that +curving path which leads upward to the old Chapel of the Martyr when +with a hiss like an angry snake a long white arrow streaked under +Pommers and struck quivering in the grassy turf. A second whizzed past +Nigel's ear, as he tried to turn; but Aylward struck the great war-horse +a sharp blow over the haunches, and it had galloped some hundreds of +yards before its rider could pull it up. Aylward followed as hard as he +could ride, bending low over his horse's neck, while arrows whizzed all +around him. + +"By Saint Paul!" said Nigel, tugging at his bridle and white with anger, +"they shall not chase me across the country as though I was a frighted +doe. Archer, how dare you to lash my horse when I would have turned and +ridden in upon them?" + +"It is well that I did so," said Aylward, "or by these ten finger-bones! +our journey would have begun and ended on the same day. As I glanced +round I saw a dozen of them at the least amongst the brushwood. See now +how the light glimmers upon their steel caps yonder in the bracken +under the great beech-tree. Nay, I pray you, my fair lord, do not ride +forward. What chance has a man in the open against all these who lie +at their ease in the underwood? If you will not think of yourself, then +consider your horse, which would have a cloth-yard shaft feathered in +its hide ere it could reach the wood." + +Nigel chafed in impotent anger. "Am I to be shot at like a popinjay at a +fair, by any reaver or outlaw that seeks a mark for his bow?" he cried. +"By Saint Paul! Aylward, I will put on my harness and go further into +the matter. Help me to untruss, I pray you!" + +"Nay, my fair lord, I will not help you to your own downfall. It is a +match with cogged dice betwixt a horseman on the moor and archers amid +the forest. But these men are no outlaws, or they would not dare to draw +their bows within a league of the sheriff of Guildford." + +"Indeed, Aylward, I think that you speak truth," said Nigel. "It may +be that these are the men of Paul de la Fosse of Shalford, whom I +have given little cause to love me. Ah! there is indeed the very man +himself." + +They sat their horses with their backs to the long slope which leads up +to the old chapel on the hill. In front of them was the dark ragged edge +of the wood, with a sharp twinkle of steel here and there in its shadows +which spoke of these lurking foes. But now there was a long moot upon +a horn, and at once a score of russet-clad bowmen ran forward from amid +the trees, spreading out into a scattered line and closing swiftly in +upon the travelers. In the midst of them, upon a great gray horse, sat a +small misshapen man, waving and cheering as one sets hounds on a badger, +turning his head this way and that as he whooped and pointed, urging his +bowmen onward up the slope. + +"Draw them on, my fair lord! Draw them on until we have them out on the +down!" cried Aylward, his eyes shining with joy. "Five hundred paces +more, and then we may be on terms with them. Nay, linger not, but keep +them always just clear of arrowshot until our turn has come." + +Nigel shook and trembled with eagerness, as with his hand on his +sword-hilt he looked at the line of eager hurrying men. But it flashed +through his mind what Chandos had said of the cool head which is better +for the warrior than the hot heart. Aylward's words were true and wise. +He turned Pommers' head therefore, and amid a cry of derision from +behind them the comrades trotted over the down. The bowmen broke into +a run, while their leader screamed and waved more madly than before. +Aylward cast many a glance at them over his shoulder. + +"Yet a little farther! Yet a little farther still!" he muttered. "The +wind is towards them and the fools have forgot that I can overshoot them +by fifty paces. Now, my good lord, I pray you for one instant to hold +the horses, for my weapon is of more avail this day, than thine can be. +They may make sorry cheer ere they gain the shelter of the wood once +more." + +He had sprung from his horse, and with a downward wrench of his arm and +a push with his knee he slipped the string into the upper nock of his +mighty war-bow. Then in a flash he notched his shaft and drew it to +the pile, his keen blue eyes glowing fiercely behind it from under his +knotted brows. With thick legs planted sturdily apart, his body laid +to the bow, his left arm motionless as wood, his right bunched into a +double curve of swelling muscles as he stretched the white well-waxed +string, he looked so keen and fierce a fighter that the advancing line +stopped for an instant at the sight of him. Two or three loosed off +their arrows, but the shafts flew heavily against the head wind, and +snaked along the hard turf some score of paces short of the mark. One +only, a short bandy-legged man, whose squat figure spoke of enormous +muscular strength, ran swiftly in and then drew so strong a bow that the +arrow quivered in the ground at Aylward's very feet. + +"It is Black Will of Lynchmere," said the bowman. "Many a match have I +shot with him, and I know well that no other man on the Surrey marches +could have sped such a shaft. I trust that you are houseled and shriven, +Will, for I have known you so long that I would not have your damnation +upon my soul." + +He raised his bow as he spoke, and the string twanged with a rich deep +musical note. Aylward leaned upon his bow-stave as he keenly watched the +long swift flight of his shaft, skimming smoothly down the wind. + +"On him, on him! No, over him, by my hilt!" he cried. "There is more +wind than I had thought. Nay, nay, friend, now that I have the length of +you, you can scarce hope to loose again." + +Black Will had notched an arrow and was raising his bow when Aylward's +second shaft passed through the shoulder of his drawing arm. With a +shout of anger and pain he dropped his weapon, and dancing in his fury +he shook his fist and roared curses at his rival. + +"I could slay him; but I will not, for good bowmen are not so common," +said Aylward. "And now, fair sir, we must on, for they are spreading +round on either side, and if once they get behind us, then indeed our +journey has come to a sudden end. But ere we go I would send a shaft +through yonder horseman who leads them on." + +"Nay, Aylward, I pray you to leave him," said Nigel. "Villain as he is, +he is none the less a gentleman of coat-armor, and should die by some +other weapon than thine." + +"As you will," said Aylward, with a clouded brow. "I have been told that +in the late wars many a French prince and baron has not been too proud +to take his death wound from an English yeoman's shaft, and that nobles +of England have been glad enough to stand by and see it done." + +Nigel shook his head sadly. "It is sooth you say, archer, and indeed it +is no new thing, for that good knight Richard of the Lion Heart met his +end in such a lowly fashion, and so also did Harold the Saxon. But this +is a private matter, and I would not have you draw your bow against +him. Neither can I ride at him myself, for he is weak in body, though +dangerous in spirit. Therefore, we will go upon our way, since there is +neither profit nor honor to be gained, nor any hope of advancement." + +Aylward, having unstrung his bow, had remounted his horse during this +conversation, and the two rode swiftly past the little squat Chapel of +the Martyr and over the brow of the hill. From the summit they looked +back. The injured archer lay upon the ground, with several of his +comrades gathered in a knot around him. Others ran aimlessly up the +hill, but were already far behind. The leader sat motionless upon his +horse, and as he saw them look back he raised his hand and shrieked his +curses at them. An instant later the curve of the ground had hid them +from view. So, amid love and hate, Nigel bade adieu to the home of his +youth. + +And now the comrades were journeying upon that old, old road which runs +across the south of England and yet never turns toward London, for the +good reason that the place was a poor hamlet when first the road was +laid. From Winchester, the Saxon capital, to Canterbury, the holy city +of Kent, ran that ancient highway, and on from Canterbury to the narrow +straits where, on a clear day, the farther shore can be seen. Along this +track as far back as history can trace the metals of the west have been +carried and passed the pack-horses which bore the goods which Gaul sent +in exchange. Older than the Christian faith and older than the Romans, +is the old road. North and south are the woods and the marshes, so +that only on the high dry turf of the chalk land could a clear track be +found. The Pilgrim's Way, it still is called; but the pilgrims were the +last who ever trod it, for it was already of immemorial age before the +death of Thomas a Becket gave a new reason why folk should journey to +the scene of his murder. + +From the hill of Weston Wood the travelers could see the long white band +which dipped and curved and rose over the green downland, its course +marked even in the hollows by the line of the old yew-trees which +flanked it. Neither Nigel nor Aylward had wandered far from their own +country, and now they rode with light hearts and eager eyes taking note +of all the varied pictures of nature and of man which passed before +them. To their left was a hilly country, a land of rolling heaths and +woods, broken here and there into open spaces round the occasional +farm-house of a franklin. Hackhurst Down, Dunley Hill, and Ranmore +Common swelled and sank, each merging into the other. But on the right, +after passing the village of Shere and the old church of Gomshall, the +whole south country lay like a map at their feet. There was the huge +wood of the Weald, one unbroken forest of oak-trees stretching away to +the South Downs, which rose olive-green against the deep blue sky. Under +this great canopy of trees strange folk lived and evil deeds were done. +In its recesses were wild tribes, little changed from their heathen +ancestors, who danced round the altar of Thor, and well was it for the +peaceful traveler that he could tread the high open road of the chalk +land with no need to wander into so dangerous a tract, where soft clay, +tangled forest and wild men all barred his progress. + +But apart from the rolling country upon the left and the great +forest-hidden plain upon the right, there was much upon the road itself +to engage the attention of the wayfarers. It was crowded with people. +As far as their eyes could carry they could see the black dots scattered +thickly upon the thin white band, sometimes single, sometimes several +abreast, sometimes in moving crowds, where a drove of pilgrims held +together for mutual protection, or a nobleman showed his greatness by +the number of retainers who trailed at his heels. At that time the main +roads were very crowded, for there were many wandering people in the +land. Of all sorts and kinds, they passed in an unbroken stream before +the eyes of Nigel and of Aylward, alike only in the fact that one and +all were powdered from their hair to their shoes with the gray dust of +the chalk. + +There were monks journeying from one cell to another, Benedictines with +their black gowns looped up to show their white skirts, Carthusians +in white, and pied Cistercians. Friars also of the three wandering +orders--Dominicans in black, Carmelites in white and Franciscans in +gray. There was no love lost between the cloistered monks and the free +friars, each looking on the other as a rival who took from him the +oblations of the faithful; so they passed on the high road as cat passes +dog, with eyes askance and angry faces. + +Then besides the men of the church there were the men of trade, the +merchant in dusty broadcloth and Flanders hat riding at the head of +his line of pack-horses. He carried Cornish tin, Welt-country wool, +or Sussex iron if he traded eastward, or if his head should be turned +westward then he bore with him the velvets of Genoa, the ware of Venice, +the wine of France, or the armor of Italy and Spain. Pilgrims were +everywhere, poor people for the most part, plodding wearily along with +trailing feet and bowed heads, thick staves in their hands and bundles +over their shoulders. Here and there on a gaily caparisoned palfrey, or +in the greater luxury of a horse-litter, some West-country lady might be +seen making her easy way to the shrine of Saint Thomas. + +Besides all these a constant stream of strange vagabonds drifted along +the road: minstrels who wandered from fair to fair, a foul and pestilent +crew; jugglers and acrobats, quack doctors and tooth-drawers, students +and beggars, free workmen in search of better wages, and escaped +bondsmen who would welcome any wages at all. Such was the throng which +set the old road smoking in a haze of white dust from Winchester to the +narrow sea. + +But of all the wayfarers those which interested Nigel most were +the soldiers. Several times they passed little knots of archers or +men-at-arms, veterans from France, who had received their discharge and +were now making their way to their southland homes. They were half drunk +all of them, for the wayfarers treated them to beer at the frequent +inns and ale-stakes which lined the road, so that they cheered and sang +lustily as they passed. They roared rude pleasantries at Aylward, who +turned in his saddle and shouted his opinion of them until they were out +of hearing. + +Once, late in the afternoon, they overtook a body of a hundred archers +all marching together with two knights riding at their head. They were +passing from Guildford Castle to Reigate Castle, where they were in +garrison. Nigel rode with the knights for some distance, and hinted that +if either was in search of honorable advancement, or wished to do some +small deed, or to relieve himself of any vow, it might be possible to +find some means of achieving it. They were both, however, grave and +elderly men, intent upon their business and with no mind for fond +wayside adventures, so Nigel quickened his pace and left them behind. + +They had left Boxhill and Headley Heath upon the left, and the towers of +Reigate were rising amid the trees in front of them, when they overtook +a large, cheery, red-faced man, with a forked beard, riding upon a good +horse and exchanging a nod or a merry word with all who passed him. With +him they rode nearly as far as Bletchingley, and Nigel laughed much to +hear him talk; but always under the raillery there was much earnestness +and much wisdom in all his words. He rode at his ease about the country, +he said, having sufficient money to keep him from want and to furnish +him for the road. He could speak all the three languages of England, the +north, the middle and the south, so that he was at home with the people +of every shire and could hear their troubles and their joys. In all +parts in town and in country there was unrest, he said; for the poor +folk were weary of their masters both of the Church and State, and soon +there would be such doings in England as had never been seen before. + +But above all this man was earnest against the Church its enormous +wealth, its possession of nearly one-third of the whole land of the +country, its insatiable greed for more at the very time when it claimed +to be poor and lowly. The monks and friars, too, he lashed with his +tongue: their roguish ways, their laziness and their cunning. He showed +how their wealth and that of the haughty lord must always be founded +upon the toil of poor humble Peter the Plowman, who worked and strove +in rain and cold out in the fields, the butt and laughing-stock of +everyone, and still bearing up the whole world upon his weary shoulders. +He had set it all out in a fair parable; so now as he rode he repeated +some of the verses, chanting them and marking time with his forefinger, +while Nigel and Aylward on either side of him with their heads inclined +inward listened with the same attention, but with very different +feelings--Nigel shocked at such an attack upon authority, and Aylward +chuckling as he heard the sentiments of his class so shrewdly expressed. +At last the stranger halted his horse outside the "Five Angels" at +Gatton. + +"It is a good inn, and I know the ale of old," said he. "When I had +finished that 'Dream of Piers the Plowman' from which I have recited to +you, the last verses were thus: + + "'Now have I brought my little booke to an ende + God's blessing be on him who a drinke will me sende'-- + +"I pray you come in with me and share it." + +"Nay," said Nigel, "we must on our way, for we have far to go. But +give me your name, my friend, for indeed we have passed a merry hour +listening to your words." + +"Have a care!" the stranger answered, shaking his head. "You and your +class will not spend a merry hour when these words are turned into deeds +and Peter the Plowman grows weary of swinking in the fields and takes up +his bow and his staff in order to set this land in order." + +"By Saint Paul! I expect that we shall bring Peter to reason and also +those who have put such evil thoughts into his head," said Nigel. "So +once more I ask your name, that I may know it if ever I chance to hear +that you have been hanged?" + +The stranger laughed good-humoredly. "You can call me Thomas Lackland," +said he. "I should be Thomas Lack-brain if I were indeed to give my true +name, since a good many robbers, some in black gowns and some in steel, +would be glad to help me upwards in the way you speak of. So good-day +to you, Squire, and to you also, archer, and may you find your way back +with whole bones from the wars!" + +That night the comrades slept in Godstone Priory, and early next morning +they were well upon their road down the Pilgrim's Way. At Titsey it was +said that a band of villeins were out in Westerham Wood and had murdered +three men the day before; so that Nigel had high hopes of an encounter; +but the brigands showed no sign, though the travelers went out of their +way to ride their horses along the edges of the forest. Farther on they +found traces of their work, for the path ran along the hillside at the +base of a chalk quarry, and there in the cutting a man was lying dead. +From his twisted limbs and shattered frame it was easy to see that he +had been thrown over from above, while his pockets turned outward showed +the reason for his murder. The comrades rode past without too close +a survey, for dead men were no very uncommon objects on the King's +highway, and if sheriff or bailiff should chance upon you near the body +you might find yourself caught in the meshes of the law. + +Near Sevenoaks their road turned out of the old Canterbury way and +pointed south toward the coast, leaving the chalk lands and coming down +into the clay of the Weald. It was a wretched, rutted mule-track running +through thick forests with occasional clearings in which lay the small +Kentish villages, where rude shock-headed peasants with smocks and +galligaskins stared with bold, greedy eyes at the travelers. Once on the +right they caught a distant view of the Towers of Penshurst, and once +they heard the deep tolling of the bells of Bayham Abbey, but for the +rest of their day's journey savage peasants and squalid cottages were +all that met their eyes, with endless droves of pigs who fed upon the +litter of acorns. The throng of travelers who crowded the old road +were all gone, and only here and there did they meet or overtake some +occasional merchant or messenger bound for Battle Abbey, Pevensey Castle +or the towns of the south. + +That night they slept in a sordid inn, overrun with rats and with fleas, +one mile south of the hamlet of Mayfield. Aylward scratched vigorously +and cursed with fervor. Nigel lay without movement or sound. To the man +who had learned the old rule of chivalry there were no small ills in +life. It was beneath the dignity of his soul to stoop to observe them. +Cold and heat, hunger and thirst, such things did not exist for the +gentleman. The armor of his soul was so complete that it was proof not +only against the great ills of life but even against the small ones; so +the flea-bitten Nigel lay grimly still while Aylward writhed upon his +couch. + +They were now but a short distance from their destination; but they had +hardly started on their journey through the forest next morning, when an +adventure befell them which filled Nigel with the wildest hopes. + +Along the narrow winding path between the great oak trees there rode +a dark sallow man in a scarlet tabard who blew so loudly upon a silver +trumpet that they heard the clanging call long before they set eyes on +him. Slowly he advanced, pulling up every fifty paces to make the forest +ring with another warlike blast. The comrades rode forward to meet him. + +"I pray you," said Nigel, "to tell me who you are and why you blow upon +this trumpet." + +The fellow shook his head, so Nigel repeated the question in French, the +common language of chivalry, spoken at that age by every gentleman in +Western Europe. + +The man put his lips to the trumpet and blew another long note before he +answered. "I am Gaston de Castrier," said he, "the humble Squire of +the most worthy and valiant knight Raoul de Tubiers, de Pestels, de +Grimsard, de Mersac, de Leoy, de Bastanac, who also writes himself Lord +of Pons. It is his order that I ride always a mile in front of him to +prepare all to receive him, and he desires me to blow upon a trumpet not +out of vainglory, but out of greatness of spirit, so that none may be +ignorant of his coming should they desire to encounter him." + +Nigel sprang from his horse with a cry of joy, and began to unbutton his +doublet. "Quick, Aylward, quick!" he said. "He comes, a knight errant +comes! Was there ever such a chance of worshipfully winning worship? +Untruss the harness whilst I loose my clothes! Good sir, I beg you to +warn your noble and valiant master that a poor Squire of England would +implore him to take notice of him and to do some small deed upon him as +he passes." + +But already the Lord of Pons had come in sight. He was a huge man upon +an enormous horse, so that together they seemed to fill up the whole +long dark archway under the oaks. He was clad in full armor of a brazen +hue with only his face exposed, and of this face there was little +visible save a pair of arrogant eyes and a great black beard, which +flowed through the open visor and down over his breastplate. To the +crest of his helmet was tied a small brown glove, nodding and swinging +above him. He bore a long lance with a red square banner at the end, +charged with a black boar's head, and the same symbol was engraved upon +his shield. Slowly he rode through the forest, ponderous, menacing, with +dull thudding of his charger's hoofs and constant clank of metal, while +always in front of him came the distant peal of the silver trumpet +calling all men to admit his majesty and to clear his path ere they be +cleared from it. + +Never in his dreams had so perfect a vision come to cheer Nigel's heart, +and as he struggled with his clothes, glancing up continually at this +wondrous traveler, he pattered forth prayers of thanksgiving to the good +Saint Paul who had shown such loving-kindness to his unworthy servant +and thrown him in the path of so excellent and debonair a gentleman. + +But alas! how often at the last instant the cup is dashed from the lips! +This joyful chance was destined to change suddenly to unexpected and +grotesque disaster--disaster so strange and so complete that through +all his life Nigel flushed crimson when he thought of it. He was busily +stripping his hunting-costume, and with feverish haste he had doffed +boots, hat, hose, doublet and cloak, so that nothing remained save a +pink jupon and pair of silken drawers. At the same time Aylward was +hastily unbuckling the load with the intention of handing his master +his armor piece by piece, when the Squire gave one last challenging peal +from his silver trumpet into the very ear of the spare horse. + +In an instant it had taken to its heels, the precious armor upon its +back, and thundered away down the road which they had traversed. Aylward +jumped upon his mare, drove his prick spurs into her sides and galloped +after the runaway as hard as he could ride. Thus it came about that in +an instant Nigel was shorn of all his little dignity, had lost his two +horses, his attendant and his outfit, and found himself a lonely and +unarmed man standing in his shirt and drawers upon the pathway down +which the burly figure of the Lord of Pons was slowly advancing. + +The knight errant, whose mind had been filled by the thought of the +maiden whom he had left behind at St. Jean--the same whose glove dangled +from his helmet--had observed nothing that had occurred. Hence, all that +met his eyes was a noble yellow horse, which was tethered by the +track, and a small young man, who appeared to be a lunatic since he +had undressed hastily in the heart of the forest, and stood now with an +eager anxious face clad in his underlinen amid the scattered debris +of his garments. Of such a person the high Lord of Pons could take no +notice, and so he pursued his inexorable way, his arrogant eyes looking +out into the distance and his thoughts set intently upon the maiden of +St. Jean. He was dimly aware that the little crazy man in the undershirt +ran a long way beside him in his stockings, begging, imploring and +arguing. + +"Just one hour, most fair sir, just one hour at the longest, and a poor +Squire of England shall ever hold himself your debtor! Do but condescend +to rein your horse until my harness comes back to me! Will you not stoop +to show me some small deed of arms? I implore you, fair sir, to spare me +a little of your time and a handstroke or two ere you go upon your way!" + +Lord de Pons motioned impatiently with his gauntleted hand, as one might +brush away an importunate fly, but when at last Nigel became desperate +in his clamor he thrust his spurs into his great war-horse, and clashing +like a pair of cymbals he thundered off through the forest. So he +rode upon his majestic way, until two days later he was slain by Lord +Reginald Cobham in a field near Weybridge. + +When after a long chase Aylward secured the spare horse and brought it +back, he found his master seated upon a fallen tree, his face buried in +his hands and his mind clouded with humiliation and grief. Nothing was +said, for the matter was beyond words, and so in moody silence they rode +upon their way. + +But soon they came upon a scene which drew Nigel's thoughts away from +his bitter trouble, for in front of them there rose the towers of a +great building with a small gray sloping village around it, and they +learned from a passing hind that this was the hamlet and Abbey of +Battle. Together they drew rein upon the low ridge and looked down into +that valley of death from which even now the reek of blood seems to +rise. Down beside that sinister lake and amid those scattered bushes +sprinkled over the naked flank of the long ridge was fought that +long-drawn struggle betwixt two most noble foes with broad England as +the prize of victory. Here, up and down the low hill, hour by hour the +grim struggle had waxed and waned, until the Saxon army had died where +it stood, King, court, house-carl and fyrdsman, each in their ranks even +as they had fought. And now, after all the stress and toil, the tyranny, +the savage revolt, the fierce suppression, God had made His purpose +complete, for here were Nigel the Norman and Aylward the Saxon with +good-fellowship in their hearts and a common respect in their minds, +with the same banner and the same cause, riding forth to do battle for +their old mother England. + +And now the long ride drew to an end. In front of them was the blue sea, +flecked with the white sails of ships. Once more the road passed upward +from the heavy-wooded plain to the springy turf of the chalk downs. Far +to the right rose the grim fortalice of Pevensey, squat and powerful, +like one great block of rugged stone, the parapet twinkling with steel +caps and crowned by the royal banner of England. A flat expanse of +reeded marshland lay before them, out of which rose a single wooded +hill, crowned with towers, with a bristle of masts rising out of the +green plain some distance to the south of it. Nigel looked at it with +his hand shading his eyes, and then urged Pommers to a trot. The town +was Winchelsea, and there amid that cluster of houses on the hill the +gallant Chandos must be awaiting him. + + + + +XIV. HOW NIGEL CHASED THE RED FERRET + + +They passed a ferry, wound upward by a curving path, and then, having +satisfied a guard of men-at-arms, were admitted through the frowning +arch of the Pipewell Gate. There waiting for them, in the middle of +the east street, the sun gleaming upon his lemon-colored beard, and +puckering his single eye, stood Chandos himself, his legs apart, his +hands behind his back, and a welcoming smile upon his quaint high-nosed +face. Behind him a crowd of little boys were gazing with reverent eyes +at the famous soldier. + +"Welcome, Nigel!" said he, "and you also, good archer! I chanced to be +walking on the city wall, and I thought from the color of your horse +that it was indeed you upon the Udimore Road. How have you fared, +young squire errant? Have you held bridges or rescued damsels or slain +oppressors on your way from Tilford?" + +"Nay, my fair lord, I have accomplished nothing; but I once had hopes--" +Nigel flushed at the remembrance. + +"I will give you more than hopes, Nigel. I will put you where you can +dip both arms to the elbow into danger and honor, where peril will sleep +with you at night and rise with you in the morning and the very air you +breathe be laden with it. Are you ready for that, young sir?" + +"I can but pray, fair lord, that my spirit will rise to it." + +Chandos smiled his approval and laid his thin brown hand on the youth's +shoulder. "Good!" said he. "It is the mute hound which bites the +hardest. The babbler is ever the hang-back. Bide with me here, Nigel, +and walk upon the ramparts. Archer, do you lead the horses to the 'Sign +of the Broom Pod' in the high street, and tell my varlets to see them +aboard the cog Thomas before nightfall. We sail at the second hour after +curfew. Come hither, Nigel, to the crest of the corner turret, for from +it I will show you what you have never seen." + +It was but a dim and distant white cloud upon the blue water seen far +off over the Dungeness Point, and yet the sight of it flushed the young +Squire's cheeks and sent the blood hot through his veins. It was the +fringe of France, that land of chivalry and glory, the stage where name +and fame were to be won. With burning eyes he gazed across at it, his +heart rejoicing to think that the hour was at hand when he might tread +that sacred soil. Then his gaze crossed the immense stretch of the blue +sea, dotted over with the sails of fishing-boats, until it rested upon +the double harbor beneath packed with vessels of every size and shape, +from the pessoners and creyers which plied up and down the coast to +the great cogs and galleys which were used either as war-ships or +merchantmen as the occasion served. One of them was at that instant +passing out to sea, a huge galleass, with trumpets blowing and nakers +banging, the flag of Saint George flaunting over the broad purple sail, +and the decks sparkling from end to end with steel. Nigel gave a cry of +pleasure at the splendor of the sight. + +"Aye, lad," said Chandos, "it is the Trinity of Rye, the very ship on +which I fought at Sluys. Her deck ran blood from stem to stern that day. +But turn your eyes this way, I beg you, and tell me if you see aught +strange about this town." + +Nigel looked down at the noble straight street, at the Roundel Tower, +at the fine church of Saint Thomas, and the other fair buildings of +Winchelsea. "It is all new," said he--"church, castle, houses, all are +new." + +"You are right, fair son. My grandfather can call to mind the time when +only the conies lived upon this rock. The town was down yonder by the +sea, until one night the waves rose upon it and not a house was left. +See, yonder is Rye, huddling also on a hill, the two towns like poor +sheep when the waters are out. But down there under the blue water and +below the Camber Sand lies the true Winchelsea--tower, cathedral, walls +and all, even as my grandfather knew it, when the first Edward was young +upon the throne." + +For an hour or more Chandos paced upon the ramparts with his young +Squire at his elbow and talked to him of his duties and of the secrets +and craft of warfare, Nigel drinking in and storing in his memory every +word from so revered a teacher. Many a time in after life, in stress and +in danger, he strengthened himself by the memory of that slow walk with +the blue sea on one side and the fair town on the other, when the wise +soldier and noble-hearted knight poured forth his precept and advice as +the master workman to the apprentice. + +"Perhaps, fair son," said he, "you are like so many other lads who ride +to the wars, and know so much already that it is waste of breath to +advise them?" + +"Nay, my fair lord, I know nothing save that I would fain do my duty and +either win honorable advancement or die worshipful on the field." + +"You are wise to be humble," said Chandos; "for indeed he who knows most +of war knows best that there is much to learn. As there is a mystery +of the rivers and a mystery of woodcraft, even so there is a mystery +of warfare by which battles may be lost and gained; for all nations are +brave, and where the brave meets the brave it is he who is crafty and +war-wise who will win the day. The best hound will run at fault if he be +ill laid on, and the best hawk will fly at check if he be badly loosed, +and even so the bravest army may go awry if it be ill handled. There are +not in Christendom better knights and squires than those of the French, +and yet we have had the better of them, for in our Scottish Wars and +elsewhere we have learned more of this same mystery of which I speak." + +"And wherein lies our wisdom, honored sir?" asked Nigel. "I also would +fain be war-wise and learn to fight with my wits as well as with my +sword." + +Chandos shook his head and smiled. "It is in the forest and on the down +that you learn to fly the hawk and loose the hound," said he. "So also +it is in camp and on the field that the mystery of war can be learned. +There only has every great captain come to be its master. To start he +must have a cool head, quick to think, soft as wax before his purpose +is formed, hard as steel when once he sees it before him. Ever alert he +must be, and cautious also, but with judgment to turn his caution into +rashness where a large gain may be put against a small stake. An eye for +country also, for the trend of the rivers, the slope of the hills, the +cover of the woods, and the light green of the bog-land." + +Poor Nigel, who had trusted to his lance and to Pommers to break his +path to glory, stood aghast at this list of needs. "Alas!" he cried. +"How am I to gain all this?--I, who could scarce learn to read or write +though the good Father Matthew broke a hazel stick a day across my +shoulders?" + +"You will gain it, fair son, where others have gained it before you. You +have that which is the first thing of all, a heart of fire from which +other colder hearts may catch a spark. But you must have knowledge +also of that which warfare has taught us in olden times. We know, +par exemple, that horsemen alone cannot hope to win against good +foot-soldiers. Has it not been tried at Courtrai, at Stirling, and +again under my own eyes at Crecy, where the chivalry of France went down +before our bowmen?" + +Nigel stared at him, with a perplexed brow. "Fair sir, my heart grows +heavy as I hear you. Do you then say that our chivalry can make no head +against archers, billmen and the like?" + +"Nay, Nigel, for it has also been very clearly shown that the best +foot-soldiers unsupported cannot hold their own against the mailed +horsemen." + +"To whom then is the victory?" asked Nigel. + +"To him who can mix his horse and foot, using each to strengthen the +other. Apart they are weak. Together they are strong. The archer who +can weaken the enemy's line, the horseman who can break it when it is +weakened, as was done at Falkirk and Duplin, there is the secret of our +strength. Now touching this same battle of Falkirk, I pray you for one +instant to give it your attention." + +With his whip he began to trace a plan of the Scottish battle upon the +dust, and Nigel with knitted brows was trying hard to muster his small +stock of brains and to profit by the lecture, when their conversation +was interrupted by a strange new arrival. + +It was a very stout little man, wheezy and purple with haste, who +scudded down the rampart as if he were blown by the wind, his grizzled +hair flying and his long black gown floating behind him. He was clad in +the dress of a respectable citizen, a black jerkin trimmed with sable, a +black-velvet beaver hat and a white feather. At the sight of Chandos +he gave a cry of joy and quickened his pace so that when he did at last +reach him he could only stand gasping and waving his hands. + +"Give yourself time, good Master Wintersole, give yourself time!" said +Chandos in a soothing voice. + +"The papers!" gasped the little man. "Oh, my Lord Chandos, the papers--" + +"What of the papers, my worthy sir?" + +"I swear by our good patron Saint Leonard, it is no fault of mine! I +had locked them in my coffer. But the lock was forced and the coffer +rifled." + +A shadow of anger passed over the soldier's keen face. + +"How now, Master Mayor? Pull your wits together and do not stand there +babbling like a three-year child. Do you say that some one hath taken +the papers?" + +"It is sooth, fair sir! Thrice I have been Mayor of the town, and +fifteen years burgess and jurat, but never once has any public matter +gone awry through me. Only last month there came an order from Windsor +on a Tuesday for a Friday banquet, a thousand soles, four thousand +plaice, two thousand mackerel, five hundred crabs, a thousand lobsters, +five thousand whiting--" + +"I doubt not, Master Mayor, that you are an excellent fishmonger; but +the matter concerns the papers I gave into your keeping. Where are +they?" + +"Taken, fair sir--gone!" + +"And who hath dared to take them?" + +"Alas! I know not. It was but for as long as you would say an angelus +that I left the chamber, and when I came back there was the coffer, +broken and empty, upon my table." + +"Do you suspect no one?" + +"There was a varlet who hath come with the last few days into my employ. +He is not to be found, and I have sent horsemen along both the Udimore +road and that to Rye, that they may seize him. By the help of Saint +Leonard they can scarce miss him, for one can tell him a bow-shot off by +his hair." + +"Is it red?" asked Chandos eagerly. "Is it fox-red, and the man a small +man pocked with sun-spots, and very quick in his movements?" + +"It is the man himself." + +Chandos shook his clenched hand with annoyance, and then set off swiftly +down the street. + +"It is Peter the Red Ferret once more!" said he. "I knew him of old in +France, where he has done us more harm than a company of men-at-arms. He +speaks English as he speaks French, and he is of such daring and +cunning that nothing is secret from him. In all France there is no more +dangerous man, for though he is a gentleman of blood and coat-armor he +takes the part of a spy, because it hath the more danger and therefore +the more honor." + +"But, my fair lord," cried the Mayor, as he hurried along, keeping pace +with the long strides of the soldier, "I knew that you warned me to take +all care of the papers; but surely there was no matter of great import +in it? It was but to say what stores were to be sent after you to +Calais?" + +"Is that not everything?" cried Chandos impatiently. "Can you not see, +oh foolish Master Wintersole, that the French suspect we are about to +make some attempt and that they have sent Peter the Red Ferret, as they +have sent him many times before, to get tidings of whither we are bound? +Now that he knows that the stores are for Calais, then the French near +Calais will take his warning, and so the King's whole plan come to +nothing." + +"Then he will fly by water. We can stop him yet. He has not an hour's +start." + +"It may be that a boat awaits him at Rye or Hythe; but it is more like +that he has all ready to depart from here. Ah, see yonder! I'll warrant +that the Red Ferret is on board!" + +Chandos had halted in front of his inn, and now he pointed down to the +outer harbor, which lay two miles off across the green plain. It was +connected by a long winding canal with the inner dock at the base of the +hill, upon which the town was built. Between the two horns formed by the +short curving piers a small schooner was running out to sea, dipping and +rising before a sharp southerly breeze. + +"It is no Winchelsea boat," said the Mayor. "She is longer and broader +in the beam than ours." + +"Horses! bring horses!" cried Chandos. "Come, Nigel, let us go further +into the matter." + +A busy crowd of varlets, archers, and men-at-arms swarmed round the +gateway of the "Sign of the Broom Pod," singing, shouting, and jostling +in rough good-fellowship. The sight of the tall thin figure of Chandos +brought order amongst them, and a few minutes later the horses were +ready and saddled. A breakneck ride down a steep declivity, and then +a gallop of two miles over the sedgy plain carried them to the outer +harbor. A dozen vessels were lying there, ready to start for Bordeaux or +Rochelle, and the quay was thick with sailors, laborers and townsmen and +heaped with wine-barrels and wool-packs. + +"Who is warden here?" asked Chandos, springing from his horse. + +"Badding! Where is Cock Badding? Badding is warden!" shouted the crowd. + +A moment later a short swarthy man, bull-necked and deep-chested, pushed +through the people. He was clad in rough russet wool with a scarlet +cloth tied round his black curly head. His sleeves were rolled up to +his shoulders, and his brown arms, all stained with grease and tar, were +like two thick gnarled branches from an oaken stump. His savage brown +face was fierce and frowning, and was split from chin to temple with the +long white wale of an ill-healed wound. + +"How now, gentles, will you never wait your turn?" he rumbled in a deep +angry voice. "Can you not see that we are warping the Rose of Guienne +into midstream for the ebb-tide? Is this a time to break in upon us? +Your goods will go aboard in due season, I promise you; so ride back +into the town and find such pleasure as you may, while I and my mates do +our work without let or hindrance." + +"It is the gentle Chandos!" cried some one in the crowd. "It is the good +Sir John." + +The rough harbor-master changed his gruffness to smiles in an instant. +"Nay, Sir John, what would you? I pray you to hold me excused if I was +short of speech, but we port-wardens are sore plagued with foolish young +lordlings, who get betwixt us and our work and blame us because we do +not turn an ebb-tide into a flood, or a south wind into a north. I pray +you to tell me how I can serve you." + +"That boat!" said Chandos, pointing to the already distant sail rising +and falling on the waves. "What is it?" + +Cock Badding shaded his keen eyes with his strong brows hand. "She has +but just gone out," said he. "She is La Pucelle, a small wine-sloop from +Gascony, home-bound and laden with barrel-staves." + +"I pray you did any man join her at the very last?" + +"Nay, I know not. I saw no one." + +"But I know," cried a seaman in the crowd. "I was standing at the +wharf-side and was nigh knocked into the water by a little red-headed +fellow, who breathed as though he had run from the town. Ere I had time +to give him a cuff he had jumped aboard, the ropes were cast off, and +her nose was seaward." + +In a few words Chandos made all clear to Badding, the crowd pressing +eagerly round. + +"Aye, aye!" cried a seaman, "the good Sir John is right. See how she +points. It is Picardy and not Gascony that she will fetch this journey +in spite of her wine-staves." + +"Then we must lay her aboard!" cried Cock Badding. "Come, lads, here is +my own Marie Rose ready to cast off. Who's for a trip with a fight at +the end of it?" + +There was a rush for the boat; but the stout little seaman picked his +men. "Go back, Jerry! Your heart is good, but you are overfat for the +work. You, Luke, and you, Thomas, and the two Deedes, and William of +Sandgate. You will work the boat. And now we need a few men of their +hands. Do you come, little sir?" + +"I pray you, my dear lord, to let me go!" cried Nigel. + +"Yes, Nigel, you can go, and I will bring your gear over to Calais this +night." + +"I will join you there, fair sir, and with the help of Saint Paul I will +bring this Red Ferret with me." + +"Aboard, aboard! Time passes!" cried Badding impatiently, while already +his seamen were hauling on the line and raising the mainsail. "Now then, +sirrah! who are you?" It was Aylward, who had followed Nigel and was +pushing his way aboard. + +"Where my master goes I go also," cried Aylward, "so stand clear, +master-shipman, or you may come by a hurt." + +"By Saint Leonard! archer," said Cock Badding, "had I more time I +would give you a lesson ere I leave land. Stand back and give place to +others!" + +"Nay, stand back and give place to me!" cried Aylward, and seizing +Badding round the waist he slung him into the dock. + +There was a cry of anger from the crowd, for Badding was the hero of all +the Cinque Ports and had never yet met his match in manhood. The epitaph +still lingers in which it was said that he "could never rest until +he had foughten his fill." When, therefore, swimming like a duck, he +reached a rope and pulled himself hand over hand up to the quay, all +stood aghast to see what fell fate would befall this bold stranger. But +Badding laughed loudly, dashing the saltwater from his eyes and hair. + +"You have fairly won your place, archer," said he. "You are the very man +for our work. Where is Black Simon of Norwich?" + +A tall dark young man with a long, stern, lean face came forward. "I am +with you, Cock," said he, "and I thank you for my place." + +"You can come, Hugh Baddlesmere, and you, Hal Masters, and you, Dicon of +Rye. That is enough. Now off, in God's name, or it will be night ere we +can come up with them!" + +Already the head-sails and the main-sail had been raised, while a +hundred willing hands poled her off from the wharf. Now the wind caught +her; heeling over, and quivering with eagerness like an unleashed hound +she flew through the opening and out into the Channel. She was a famous +little schooner, the Marie Rose of Winchelsea, and under her daring +owner Cock Badding, half trader and half pirate, had brought back into +port many a rich cargo taken in mid-Channel, and paid for in blood +rather than money. Small as she was, her great speed and the fierce +character of her master had made her a name of terror along the French +coast, and many a bulky Eastlander or Fleming as he passed the narrow +seas had scanned the distant Kentish shore, fearing lest that ill-omened +purple sail with a gold Christopher upon it should shoot out suddenly +from the dim gray cliffs. Now she was clear of the land, with the wind +on her larboard quarter, every inch of canvas set, and her high sharp +bows smothered in foam, as she dug through the waves. + +Cock Badding trod the deck with head erect and jaunty bearing, glancing +up at the swelling sails and then ahead at the little tilted white +triangle, which stood out clear and hard against the bright blue sky. +Behind was the lowland of the Camber marshes, with the bluffs of Rye and +Winchelsea, and the line of cliffs behind them. On the larboard bow rose +the great white walls of Folkestone and of Dover, and far on the distant +sky-line the gray shimmer of those French cliffs for which the fugitives +were making. + +"By Saint Paul!" cried Nigel, looking with eager eyes over the tossing +waters, "it seems to me, Master Badding, that already we draw in upon +them." + +The master measured the distance with his keen steady gaze, and then +looked up at the sinking sun. "We have still four hours of daylight," +said he; "but if we do not lay her aboard ere darkness falls she will +save herself, for the nights are as black as a wolf's mouth, and if she +alter her course I know not how we may follow her." + +"Unless, indeed, you might guess to which port she was bound and reach +it before her." + +"Well thought of, little master!" cried Badding. "If the news be for the +French outside Calais, then Ambleteuse would be nearest to Saint Omer. +But my sweeting sails three paces to that lubber's two, and if the wind +holds we shall have time and to spare. How now, archer? You do not seem +so eager as when you made your way aboard this boat by slinging me into +the sea." + +Aylward sat on the upturned keel of a skiff which lay upon the deck. He +groaned sadly and held his green face between his two hands. "I would +gladly sling you into the sea once more, master-shipman," said he, "if +by so doing I could get off this most accursed vessel of thine. Or if +you would wish to have your turn, then I would thank you if you would +lend me a hand over the side, for indeed I am but a useless weight upon +your deck. Little did I think that Samkin Aylward could be turned into +a weakling by an hour of salt water. Alas the day that ever my foot +wandered from the good red heather of Crooksbury!" + +Cock Badding laughed loud and long. "Nay, take it not to heart, archer," +he cried; "for better men than you or I have groaned upon this deck. The +Prince himself with ten of his chosen knights crossed with me once, and +eleven sadder faces I never saw. Yet within a month they had shown at +Crecy that they were no weaklings, as you will do also, I dare swear, +when the time comes. Keep that thick head of thine down upon the planks, +and all will be well anon. But we raise her, we raise her with every +blast of the wind!" + +It was indeed evident, even to the inexperienced eyes of Nigel, that the +Marie Rose was closing in swiftly upon the stranger. She was a heavy, +bluff-bowed, broad-sterned vessel which labored clumsily through the +seas. The swift, fierce little Winchelsea boat swooping and hissing +through the waters behind her was like some keen hawk whizzing down +wind at the back of a flapping heavy-bodied duck. Half an hour before La +Pucelle had been a distant patch of canvas. Now they could see the black +hull, and soon the cut of her sails and the lines of her bulwarks. There +were at least a dozen men upon her deck, and the twinkle of weapons from +amongst them showed that they were preparing to resist. Cock Badding +began to muster his own forces. + +He had a crew of seven rough, hardy mariners, who had been at his back +in many a skirmish. They were armed with short swords, but Cock Badding +carried a weapon peculiar to himself, a twenty-pound blacksmith's +hammer, the memory of which, as "Badding's cracker," still lingers +in the Cinque Ports. Then there were the eager Nigel, the melancholy +Aylward, Black Simon who was a tried swordsman, and three archers, +Baddlesmere, Masters and Dicon of Rye, all veterans of the French War. +The numbers in the two vessels might be about equal; but Badding as +he glanced at the bold harsh faces which looked to him for orders had +little fear for the result. + +Glancing round, however, he saw something which was more dangerous to +his plans than the resistance of the enemy. The wind, which had become +more fitful and feebler, now fell suddenly away, until the sails hung +limp and straight above them. A belt of calm lay along the horizon, and +the waves around had smoothed down into a long oily swell on which +the two little vessels rose and fell. The great boom of the Marie Rose +rattled and jarred with every lurch, and the high thin prow pointed +skyward one instant and seaward the next in a way that drew fresh groans +from the unhappy Aylward. In vain Cock Badding pulled on his sheets and +tried hard to husband every little wandering gust which ruffled for an +instant the sleek rollers. The French master was as adroit a sailor, and +his boom swung round also as each breath of wind came up from astern. + +At last even these fitful puffs died finally away, and a cloudless +sky overhung a glassy sea. The sun was almost upon the horizon behind +Dungeness Point, and the whole western heaven was bright with the glory +of the sunset, which blended sea and sky in one blaze of ruddy light. +Like rollers of molten gold, the long swell heaved up Channel from the +great ocean beyond. In the midst of the immense beauty and peace of +nature the two little dark specks with the white sail and the purple +rose and fell, so small upon the vast shining bosom of the waters, and +yet so charged with all the unrest and the passion of life. + +The experienced eye of the seaman told him that it was hopeless to +expect a breeze before nightfall. He looked across at the Frenchman, +which lay less than a quarter of a mile ahead, and shook his gnarled +fist at the line of heads which could be seen looking back over her +stern. One of them waved a white kerchief in derision, and Cock Badding +swore a bitter oath at the sight. + +"By Saint Leonard of Winchelsea," he cried, "I will rub my side up +against her yet! Out with the skiff, lads, and two of you to the oars. +Make fast the line to the mast, Will. Do you go in the boat, Hugh, and +I'll make the second. Now if we bend our backs to it we may have them +yet ere night cover them." + +The little skiff was swiftly lowered over the side and the slack end of +the cable fastened to the after thwart. Cock Badding and his comrades +pulled as if they would snap their oars, and the little vessel began +slowly to lurch forward over the rollers. But the next moment a larger +skiff had splashed over the side of the Frenchman, and no less than four +seamen were hard at work under her bows. If the Marie Rose advanced a +yard the Frenchman was going two. Again Cock Badding raved and shook his +fist. He clambered aboard, his face wet with sweat and dark with anger. + +"Curse them! they have had the best of us!" he cried. "I can do no more. +Sir John has lost his papers, for indeed now that night is at hand I can +see no way in which we can gain them." + +Nigel had leaned against the bulwark during these events, watching with +keen attention the doings of the sailors, and praying alternately to +Saint Paul, Saint George, and Saint Thomas for a slant of wind which +would put them along side their enemy. He was silent; but his hot heart +was simmering within him. His spirit had risen even above the discomfort +of the sea, and his mind was too absorbed in his mission to have a +thought for that which had laid Aylward flat upon the deck. He had never +doubted that Cock Badding in one way or another would accomplish his +end, but when he heard his speech of despair he bounded off the bulwark +and stood before the seaman with his face flushed and all his soul +afire. + +"By Saint Paul! master-shipman," he cried, "we should never hold up our +heads in honor if we did not go further into the matter! Let us do some +small deed this night upon the water, or let us never see land again, +for indeed we could not wish fairer prospect of winning honorable +advancement." + +"With your leave, little master, you speak like a fool," said the gruff +seaman. "You and all your kind are as children when once the blue water +is beneath you. Can you not see that there is no wind, and that the +Frenchman can warp her as swiftly as we? What then would you do?" + +Nigel pointed to the boat which towed astern. "Let us venture forth +in her," said he, "and let us take this ship or die worshipful in the +attempt." + +His bold and fiery words found their echo in the brave rough hearts +around him. There was a deep-chested shout from both archers and seamen. +Even Aylward sat up, with a wan smile upon his green face. + +But Cock Badding shook his head. "I have never met the man who could +lead where I would not follow," said he; "but by Saint Leonard! this is +a mad business, and I should be a fool if I were to risk my men and my +ship. Bethink you, little master, that the skiff can hold only five, +though you load her to the water's edge. If there is a man yonder, +there are fourteen, and you have to climb their side from the boat. What +chance would you have? Your boat stove and you in the water--there is +the end of it. No man of mine goes on such a fool's errand, and so I +swear!" + +"Then, Master Badding, I must crave the loan of your skiff, for by Saint +Paul! the good Lord Chandos' papers are not to be so lightly lost. If no +one else will come, then I will go alone." + +The shipman smiled at the words; but the smile died away from his lips +when Nigel, with features set like ivory and eyes as hard as steel, +pulled on the rope so as to bring the skiff under the counter. It was +very clear that he would do even as he said. At the same time Aylward +raised his bulky form from the deck, leaned for a moment against the +bulwarks, and then tottered aft to his master's side. + +"Here is one that will go with you," said he, "or he would never dare +show his face to the girls of Tilford again. Come, archers, let us leave +these salt herrings in their pickle tub and try our luck out on the +water." + +The three archers at once ranged themselves on the same side as their +comrade. They were bronzed, bearded men, short in stature, as were +most Englishmen of that day, but hardy, strong and skilled with their +weapons. Each drew his string from its waterproof case and bent the huge +arc of his war-bow as he fitted it into the nocks. + +"Now, master, we are at your back," said they as they pulled and +tightened their sword-belts. + +But already Cock Badding had been carried away by the hot lust of battle +and had thrown aside every fear and doubt which had clouded him. To see +a fight and not to be in it was more than he could bear. + +"Nay, have it your own way!" he cried, "and may Saint Leonard help us, +for a madder venture I have never seen! And yet it may be worth the +trial. But if it be done let me have the handling of it, little master, +for you know no more of a boat than I do of a war-horse. The skiff can +bear five and not a man more. Now, who will come?" + +They had all caught fire, and there was not one who would be left out. + +Badding picked up his hammer. "I will come myself," said he, "and you +also, little master, since it is your hot head that has planned it. Then +there is Black Simon, the best sword of the Cinque Ports. Two archers +can pull on the oars, and it may be that they can pick off two or three +of these Frenchmen before we close with them. Hugh Baddlesmere, and you, +Dicon of Rye--into the boat with you!" + +"What?" cried Aylward. "Am I to be left behind? I, who am the Squire's +own man? Ill fare the bowman who comes betwixt me and yonder boat!" + +"Nay, Aylward," said his master, "I order that you stay, for indeed you +are a sick man." + +"But now that the waves have sunk I am myself again. Nay, fair sir, I +pray that you will not leave me behind." + +"You must needs take the space of a better man; for what do you know of +the handling of a boat?" said Badding shortly. "No more fool's talk, I +pray you, for the night will soon fall. Stand aside!" + +Aylward looked hard at the French boat. "I could swim ten times up and +down Frensham pond," said he, "and it will be strange if I cannot go as +far as that. By these finger-bones, Samkin Aylward may be there as soon +as you!" + +The little boat with its five occupants pushed off from the side of +the schooner, and dipping and rising, made its slow way toward the +Frenchman. Badding and one archer had single oars, the second archer was +in the prow, while Black Simon and Nigel huddled into the stern with the +water lapping and hissing at their very elbows. A shout of defiance rose +from the Frenchmen, and they stood in a line along the side of their +vessel shaking their fists and waving their weapons. Already the sun was +level with Dungeness, and the gray of evening was blurring sky and +water into one dim haze. A great silence hung over the broad expanse of +nature, and no sound broke it save the dip and splash of the oars +and the slow deep surge of the boat upon the swell. Behind them their +comrades of the Marie Rose stood motionless and silent, watching their +progress with eager eyes. + +They were near enough now to have a good look at the Frenchmen. One was +a big swarthy man with a long black beard. He had a red cap and an ax +over his shoulder. There were ten other hardy-looking fellows, all of +them well armed, and there were three who seemed to be boys. + +"Shall we try a shaft upon them?" asked Hugh Baddlesmere. "They are well +within our bowshot." + +"Only one of you can shoot at a time, for you have no footing," said +Badding. "With one foot in the prow and one over the thwart you will get +your stance. Do what you may, and then we will close in upon them." + +The archer balanced himself in the rolling boat with the deftness of a +man who has been trained upon the sea, for he was born and bred in +the Cinque Ports. Carefully he nocked his arrow, strongly he drew it, +steadily he loosed it, but the boat swooped at the instant, and it +buried itself in the waves. The second passed over the little ship, and +the third struck in her black side. Then in quick succession so quick +that two shafts were often in the air at the same instant--he discharged +a dozen arrows, most of which just cleared the bulwarks and dropped upon +the deck. There was a cry on the Frenchman, and the heads vanished from +the side. + +"Enough!" cried Badding. "One is down, and it may be two. Close in, +close in, in God's name, before they rally!" + +He and the other bent to their oars; but at the same instant there was +a sharp zip in the air and a hard clear sound like a stone striking a +wall. Baddlesmere clapped his hand to his head, groaned and fell forward +out of the boat, leaving a swirl of blood upon the surface. A moment +later the same fierce hiss ended in a loud wooden crash, and a short, +thick crossbow-bolt was buried deep in the side of their boat. + +"Close in, close in!" roared Badding, tugging at his oar. "Saint George +for England! Saint Leonard for Winchelsea! Close in!" + +But again that fatal crossbow twanged. Dicon of Rye fell back with a +shaft through his shoulder. "God help me, I can no more!" said he. + +Badding seized the oar from his hand; but it was only to sweep the +boat's head round and pull her back to the Marie Rose. The attack had +failed. + +"What now, master-shipman?" cried Nigel. "What has befallen to stop us? +Surely the matter does not end here?" + +"Two down out of five," said Badding, "and twelve at the least against +us. The odds are too long, little master. Let us at least go back, fill +up once more, and raise a mantelet against the bolts, for they have an +arbalist which shoots both straight and hard. But what we do we must do +quickly, for the darkness falls apace." + +Their repulse had been hailed by wild yells of delight from the +Frenchmen, who danced with joy and waved their weapons madly over their +heads. But before their rejoicings had finished they saw the little boat +creeping out once more from the shadow of the Marie Rose, a great wooden +screen in her bows to protect her from the arrows. Without a pause she +came straight and fast for her enemy. The wounded archer had been put on +board, and Aylward would have had his place had Nigel been able to see +him upon the deck. The third archer, Hal Masters, had sprung in, and +one of the seamen, Wat Finnis of Hythe. With their hearts hardened to +conquer or to die, the five ran alongside the Frenchman and sprang upon +her deck. At the same instant a great iron weight crashed through the +bottom of their skiff, and their feet had hardly left her before she was +gone. There was no hope and no escape save victory. + +The crossbowman stood under the mast, his terrible weapon at his +shoulder, the steel string stretched taut, the heavy bolt shining upon +the nut. One life at least he would claim out of this little band. Just +for one instant too long did he dwell upon his aim, shifting from the +seaman to Cock Badding, whose formidable appearance showed him to be the +better prize. In that second of time Hal Masters' string twanged and his +long arrow sped through the arbalister's throat. He dropped on the deck, +with blood and curses pouring from his mouth. + +A moment later Nigel's sword and Badding's hammer had each claimed a +victim and driven back the rush of assailants. The five were safe upon +the deck, but it was hard for them to keep a footing there. The French +seamen, Bretons and Normans, were stout, powerful fellows, armed with +axes and swords, fierce fighters and brave men. They swarmed round +the little band, attacking them from all sides. Black Simon felled the +black-bearded French Captain, and at the same instant was cut over the +head and lay with his scalp open upon the deck. The seaman Wat of Hythe +was killed by a crashing blow from an ax. Nigel was struck down, but +was up again like a flash, and drove his sword through the man who had +felled him. + +But Badding, Masters the archer and he had been hustled back to the +bulwark and were barely holding their own from minute to minute against +the fierce crowd who assailed them, when an arrow coming apparently from +the sea struck the foremost Frenchman to the heart. A moment later a +boat dashed up alongside and four more men from the Marie Rose scrambled +on to the blood-stained deck. With one fierce rush the remaining +Frenchmen were struck down or were seized by their assailants. Nine +prostrate men upon the deck showed how fierce had been the attack, how +desperate the resistance. + +Badding leaned panting upon his blood-clotted hammer. "By Saint +Leonard!" he cried, "I thought that this little master had been the +death of us all. God wot you were but just in time, and how you came I +know not. This archer has had a hand in it, by the look of him." + +Aylward, still pale from his seasickness and dripping from head to foot +with water, had been the first man in the rescue party. + +Nigel looked at him in amazement. "I sought you aboard the ship, +Aylward, but I could not lay eyes on you," said he. + +"It was because I was in the water, fair sir, and by my hilt! it suits +my stomach better than being on it," he answered. "When you first set +forth I swam behind you, for I saw that the Frenchman's boat hung by a +rope, and I thought that while you kept him in play I might gain it. +I had reached it when you were driven back, so I hid behind it in the +water and said my prayers as I have not said them for many a day. Then +you came again, and no one had an eye for me, so I clambered into it, +cut the rope, took the oars which I found there and brought her back for +more men." + +"By Saint Paul! you have acted very wisely and well," said Nigel, "and I +think that of all of us it is you who have won most honor this day. But +of all these men dead and alive I see none who resembles that Red Ferret +whom my Lord Chandos has described and who has worked such despite upon +us in the past: It would indeed be an evil chance if he has in spite of +all our pains made his way to France in some other boat." + +"That we shall soon find out," said Badding. "Come with me and we will +search the ship from truck to keel ere he escapes us." + +There was a scuttle at the base of the mast which led down into the body +of the vessel, and the Englishmen were approaching this when a strange +sight brought them to a stand. A round brazen head had appeared in the +square dark opening. An instant afterward a pair of shining shoulders +followed. Then slowly the whole figure of a man in complete plate-armor +emerged on the deck. In his gauntleted hand he carried a heavy steel +mace. With this uplifted he moved toward his enemies, silent save for +the ponderous clank of his footfall. It was an inhuman, machine-like +figure, menacing and terrible, devoid of all expression, slow-moving, +inexorable and awesome. + +A sudden wave of terror passed over the English seamen. One of them +tried to pass and get behind the brazen man, but he was pinned against +the side by a quick movement and his brains dashed out by a smashing +blow from the heavy mace. Wild panic seized the others, and they rushed +back to the boat. Aylward strung an arrow, but his bowstring was damp +and the shaft rang loudly upon the shining breast-plate and glanced off +into the sea. Masters struck the brazen head with a sword, but the blade +snapped without injuring the helmet, and an instant later the bowman was +stretched senseless on the deck. The seamen shrank from this terrible +silent creature and huddled in the stern, all the fight gone out of +them. + +Again he raised his mace and was advancing on the helpless crowd where +the brave were encumbered and hampered by the weaklings, when Nigel +shook himself clear and bounded forward into the open, his sword in his +hand and a smile of welcome upon his lips. + +The sun had set, and one long mauve gash across the western Channel was +closing swiftly into the dull grays of early night. Above, a few stars +began to faintly twinkle; yet the twilight was still bright enough for +an observer to see every detail of the scene: the Marie Rose, dipping +and rising on the long rollers astern; the broad French boat with its +white deck blotched with blood and littered with bodies; the group of +men in the stern, some trying to advance and some seeking to escape--all +a confused, disorderly, struggling rabble. + +Then betwixt them and the mast the two figures: the armed shining man +of metal, with hand upraised, watchful, silent, motionless, and Nigel, +bareheaded and crouching, with quick foot, eager eyes and fearless happy +face, moving this way and that, in and out, his sword flashing like a +gleam of light as he sought at all points for some opening in the brazen +shell before him. + +It was clear to the man in armor that if he could but pen his antagonist +in a corner he would beat him down without fail. But it was not to be +done. The unhampered man had the advantage of speed. With a few quick +steps he could always glide to either side and escape the clumsy rush. +Aylward and Badding had sprung out to Nigel's assistance; but he shouted +to them to stand back, with such authority and anger in his voice that +their weapons dropped to their sides. With staring eyes and set features +they stood watching that unequal fight. + +Once it seemed that all was over with the Squire, for in springing back +from his enemy he tripped over one of the bodies which strewed the deck +and fell flat upon his back, but with a swift wriggle he escaped the +heavy blow which thundered down upon him, and springing to his feet he +bit deeply into the Frenchman's helmet with a sweeping cut in return. +Again the mace fell, and this time Nigel had not quite cleared himself. +His sword was beaten down and the blow fell partly upon his left +shoulder. He staggered, and once more the iron club whirled upward to +dash him to the ground. + +Quick as a flash it passed through his mind that he could not leap +beyond its reach. But he might get within it. In an instant he had +dropped his sword, and springing in he had seized the brazen man round +the waist. The mace was shortened and the handle jobbed down once upon +the bare flaxen head. Then, with a sonorous clang, and a yell of delight +from the spectators, Nigel with one mighty wrench tore his enemy from +the deck and hurled him down upon his back. His own head was whirling +and he felt that his senses were slipping away, but already his +hunting-knife was out and pointing through the slit in the brazen +helmet. + +"Give yourself up, fair sir!" said he. + +"Never to fishermen and to archers! I am a gentleman of coat-armor. Kill +me!" + +"I also am a gentleman of coat-armor. I promise you quarter." + +"Then, sir, I surrender myself to you." + +The dagger tinkled down upon the deck. Seamen and archers ran forward, +to find Nigel half senseless upon his face. They drew him off, and a few +deft blows struck off the helmet of his enemy. A head, sharp-featured, +freckled and foxy-red, disclosed itself beneath it. Nigel raised himself +on his elbow for an instant. + +"You are the Red Ferret?" said he. + +"So my enemies call me," said the Frenchman, with a smile. "I rejoice, +sir, that I have fallen to so valiant and honorable a gentleman." + +"I thank you, fair sir," said Nigel feebly. "I also rejoice that I have +encountered so debonair a person, and I shall ever bear in mind the +pleasure which I have had from our meeting." + +So saying, he laid his bleeding head upon his enemy's brazen front and +sank into a dead faint. + + + + +XV. HOW THE RED FERRET CAME TO COSFORD + + +The old chronicler in his "Gestes du Sieur Nigel" has bewailed his +broken narrative, which rose from the fact that out of thirty-one years +of warfare no less than seven were spent by his hero at one time or +another in the recovery from his wounds or from those illnesses which +arose from privation and fatigue. Here at the very threshold of his +career, on the eve of a great enterprise, this very fate befell him. + +Stretched upon a couch in a low-roofed and ill-furnished chamber, which +looks down from under the machicolated corner turret upon the inner +court of the Castle of Calais, he lay half-unconscious and impotent, +while great deeds were doing under his window. Wounded in three places, +and with his head splintered by the sharp pommel of the Ferret's mace, +he hovered betwixt life and death, his shattered body drawing him +downward, his youthful spirit plucking him up. + +As in some strange dream he was aware of that deed of arms within the +courtyard below. Dimly it came back to his memory afterwards the sudden +startled shout, the crash of metal, the slamming of great gates, the +roar of many voices, the clang, clang, clang, as of fifty lusty smiths +upon their anvils, and then at last the dwindling of the hubbub, the +low groans and sudden shrill cries to the saints, the measured murmur of +many voices, the heavy clanking of armored feet. + +Sometime in that fell struggle he must have drawn his weakened body as +far as the narrow window, and hanging to the iron bars have looked down +on the wild scene beneath him. In the red glare of torches held from +windows and from roof he saw the rush and swirl of men below, the ruddy +light shining back from glowing brass and gleaming steel. As a wild +vision it came to him afterward, the beauty and the splendor, the flying +lambrequins, the jeweled crests, the blazonry and richness of surcoat +and of shield, where sable and gules, argent and vair, in every +pattern of saltire, bend or chevron, glowed beneath him like a drift of +many-colored blossoms, tossing, sinking, stooping into shadow, springing +into light. There glared the blood-red gules of Chandos, and he saw +the tall figure of his master, a thunderbolt of war, raging in the +van. There too were the three black chevrons on the golden shield which +marked the noble Manny. That strong swordsman must surely be the royal +Edward himself, since only he and the black-armored swift-footed youth +at his side were marked by no symbol of heraldry. "Manny! Manny! +George for England!" rose the deep-throated bay, and ever the gallant +counter-cry: "A Chargny! A Chargny! Saint Denis for France!" thundered +amid the clash and thudding of the battle. + +Such was the vague whirling memory still lingering in Nigel's mind when +at last the mists cleared away from it and he found himself weak but +clear on the low couch in the corner turret. Beside him, crushing +lavender betwixt his rough fingers and strewing it over floor and +sheets, was Aylward the archer. His longbow leaned at the foot of the +bed, and his steel cap was balanced on the top of it, while he himself, +sitting in his shirt sleeves, fanned off the flies and scattered the +fragrant herbs over his helpless master. + +"By my hilt!" he cried with a sudden shout, every tooth in his head +gleaming with joy, "I thank the Virgin and all the saints for this +blessed sight! I had not dared to go back to Tilford had I lost you. +Three weeks have you lain there and babbled like a babe, but now I see +in your eyes that you are your own man again." + +"I have indeed had some small hurt," said Nigel feebly; "but it is shame +and sorrow that I should lie here if there is work for my hands. Whither +go you, archer?" + +"To tell the good Sir John that you are mending." + +"Nay, bide with me a little longer, Aylward. I can call to mind all that +has passed. There was a bickering of small boats, was there not, and I +chanced upon a most worthy person and exchanged handstrokes with him? He +was my prisoner, was he not?" + +"He was, fair sir." + +"And where is he now?" + +"Below in the castle." + +A smile stole over Nigel's pale face. "I know what I will do with him," +said he. + +"I pray you to rest, fair sir," said Aylward anxiously. "The King's own +leech saw you this morning, and he said that if the bandage was torn +from your head you would surely die." + +"Nay, good archer, I will not move. But tell me what befell upon the +boat?" + +"There is little to tell, fair sir. Had this Ferret not been his own +squire and taken so long a time to don his harness it is likely that +they would have had the better of us. He did not reach the battle till +his comrades were on their backs. Him we took to the Marie Rose, because +he was your man. The others were of no worth, so we threw them into the +sea." + +"The quick and the dead?" + +"Every man of them." + +"It was an evil deed." + +Aylward shrugged his shoulders. "I tried to save one boy," said he; "but +Cock Badding would not have it, and he had Black Simon and the others at +his back. 'It is the custom of the Narrow Seas,' said they: 'To-day for +them; to-morrow for us.'--Then they tore him from his hold and cast him +screaming over the side. By my hilt! I have no love for the sea and its +customs, so I care not if I never set foot on it again when it has once +borne me back to England." + +"Nay, there are great happenings upon the sea, and many worthy people to +be found upon ships," said Nigel. "In all parts, if one goes far enough +upon the water, one would find those whom it would be joy to meet. If +one crosses over the Narrow Sea, as we have done, we come on the French +who are so needful to us; for how else would we win worship? Or if +you go south, then in time one may hope to come to the land of the +unbelievers, where there is fine skirmishing and much honor for him who +will venture his person. Bethink you, archer, how fair a life it must +be when one can ride forth in search of advancement with some hope of +finding many debonair cavaliers upon the same quest, and then if one be +overborne one has died for the faith, and the gates of Heaven are open +before you. So also the sea to the north is a help to him who seeks +honor, for it leads to the country of the Eastlanders and to those parts +where the heathen still dwell who turn their faces from the blessed +Gospel. There also a man might find some small deeds to do, and by +Saint Paul! Aylward, if the French hold the truce and the good Sir John +permits us, I would fain go down into those parts. The sea is a good +friend to the cavalier, for it takes him where he may fulfil his vows." + +Aylward shook his head, for his memories were too recent; but he said +nothing, because at this instant the door opened and Chandos entered. +With joy in his face he stepped forward to the couch and took Nigel's +hand in his. Then he whispered a word in Aylward's ear, who hurried from +the room. + +"Pardieu! this is a good sight," said the knight. "I trust that you will +soon be on your feet again." + +"I crave your pardon, my honored lord, that I have been absent from your +side," said Nigel. + +"In truth my heart was sore for you, Nigel; for you have missed such +a night as comes seldom in any man's life. All went even as we had +planned. The postern gate was opened, and a party made their way in; but +we awaited them, and all were taken or slain. But the greater part of +the French had remained without upon the plain of Nieullet, so we +took horse and went out against them. When we drew near them they were +surprised, but they made good cheer among themselves, calling out to +each other: 'If we fly we lose all. It is better to fight on, in the +hopes that the day may be ours.' This was heard by our people in the +van, who cried out to them: 'By Saint George! you speak truth. Evil +befall him who thinks of flying!' So they held their ground like worthy +people for the space of an hour, and there were many there whom it is +always good to meet: Sir Geoffrey himself, and Sir Pepin de Werre, with +Sir John de Landas, old Ballieul of the Yellow Tooth, and his brother +Hector the Leopard. But above all Sir Eustace de Ribeaumont was at great +pains to meet us worthily, and he was at handstrokes with the King for a +long time. Then, when we had slain or taken them, all the prisoners were +brought to a feast which was ready for them, and the knights of England +waited upon them at the table and made good cheer with them. And all +this, Nigel, we owe to you." + +The Squire flushed with pleasure at the words. "Nay, most honored lord, +it was but a small thing which I have been able to do. But I thank God +and our Lady that I have done some service, since it has pleased you to +take me with you to the wars. Should it chance--" + +But the words were cut short upon Nigel's lips, and he lay back with +amazed eyes staring from his pallid face. The door of his little chamber +had opened, and who was this, the tall stately man with the noble +presence, the high forehead, the long handsome face, the dark, brooding +eyes--who but the noble Edward of England? + +"Ha, my little cock of Tilford Bridge, I still bear you in mind," said +he. "Right glad I was to hear that you had found your wits again, and I +trust that I have not helped to make you take leave of them once more." + +Nigel's stare of astonishment had brought a smile to the King's lips. +Now the Squire stammered forth some halting words of gratitude at the +honor done to him. + +"Nay, not a word," said the King. "But in sooth it is a joy to my +heart to see the son of my old comrade Eustace Loring carry himself so +bravely. Had this boat got before us with news of our coming, then all +our labor had been in vain, and no Frenchman ventured to Calais that +night. But above all I thank you for that you have delivered into my +hands one whom I had vowed to punish in that he has caused us more +scathe by fouler means than any living man. Twice have I sworn that +Peter the Red Ferret shall hang, for all his noble blood and coat-armor, +if ever he should fall into my hands. Now at last his time has come; +but I would not put him to death until you, who had taken him, could be +there to see it done. Nay, thank me not, for I could do no less, seeing +that it is to you that I owe him." + +But it was not thanks which Nigel was trying to utter. It was hard to +frame his words, and yet they must be said. "Sire," he murmured, "it ill +becomes me to cross your royal will--" + +The dark Plantagenet wrath gathered upon the King's high brow and +gloomed in his fierce deep-set eyes. "By God's dignity! no man has ever +crossed it yet and lived unscathed. How now, young sir, what mean such +words, to which we are little wont? Have a care, for this is no light +thing which you venture." + +"Sire," said Nigel, "in all matters in which I am a free man I am ever +your faithful liege, but some things there are which may not be done." + +"How?" cried the King. "In spite of my will?" + +"In spite of your will, sire," said Nigel, sitting up on his couch, with +white face and blazing eyes. + +"By the Virgin!" the angry King thundered, "we are come to a pretty +pass! You have been held too long at home, young man. The overstabled +horse will kick. The unweathered hawk will fly at check. See to it, +Master Chandos! He is thine to break, and I hold you to it that you +break him. And what is it that Edward of England may not do, Master +Loring?" + +Nigel faced the King with a face as grim as his own. "You may not put to +death the Red Ferret." + +"Pardieu! And why?" + +"Because he is not thine to slay, sire. Because he is mine. Because I +promised him his life, and it is not for you, King though you be, to +constrain a man of gentle blood to break his plighted word and lose his +honor." + +Chandos laid his soothing hand upon his Squire's shoulder. "Excuse him, +sire; he is weak from his wounds," said he. "Perhaps we have stayed +overlong, for the leech has ordered repose." + +But the angry King was not easily to be appeased. "I am not wont to +be so browbeat," said he hotly. "This is your Squire, Master John. How +comes it that you can stand there and listen to his pert talk, and say +no word to chide him? Is this how you guide your household? Have you not +taught him that every promise given is subject to the King's consent, +and that with him only lie the springs of life and death? If he is sick, +you at least are hale. Why stand you there in silence?" + +"My liege," said Chandos gravely, "I have served you for over a score of +years, and have shed my blood through as many wounds in your cause, so +that you should not take my words amiss. But indeed I should feel myself +to be no true man if I did not tell you that my Squire Nigel, though +perchance he has spoken more bluntly than becomes him, is none the less +right in this matter, and that you are wrong. For bethink you, sire--" + +"Enough!" cried the King, more furious than ever. "Like master, like +man, and I might have known why it is that this saucy Squire dares to +bandy words with his sovereign lord. He does but give out what he hath +taken in. John, John, you grow overbold. But this I tell you, and you +also, young man, that as God is my help, ere the sun has set this night +the Red Ferret will hang as a warning to all spies and traitors from the +highest tower of Calais, that every ship upon the Narrow Seas, and every +man for ten miles round may see him as he swings and know how heavy is +the hand of the English King. Do you bear it in mind, lest you also may +feel its weight!" With a glare like an angry lion he walked from the +room, and the iron-clamped door clanged loudly behind him. + +Chandos and Nigel looked ruefully at each other. Then the knight patted +his Squire upon his bandaged head. + +"You have carried yourself right well, Nigel. I could not wish for +better. Fear not. All will be well." + +"My fair and honored lord," cried Nigel, "I am heavy at heart, for +indeed I could do no other, and yet I have brought trouble upon you." + +"Nay, the clouds will soon pass. If he does indeed slay this Frenchman, +you have done all that lay within your power, and your mind may rest +easy." + +"I pray that it will rest easy in Paradise," said Nigel; "for at the +hour that I hear that I am dishonored and my prisoner slain I tear this +bandage from my head and so end all things. I will not live when once my +word is broken." + +"Nay, fair son, you take this thing too heavily," said Chandos, with a +grave face. "When a man has done all he may there remains no dishonor; +but the King hath a kind heart for all his hot head, and it may be that +if I see him I will prevail upon him. Bethink you how he swore to hang +the six burghers of this very town, and yet he pardoned them. So keep a +high heart, fair son, and I will come with good news ere evening." + +For three hours, as the sinking sun traced the shadow higher and ever +higher upon the chamber wall, Nigel tossed feverishly upon his couch, +his ears straining for the footfall of Aylward or of Chandos, bringing +news of the fate of the prisoner. At last the door flew open, and there +before him stood the one man whom he least expected, and yet would most +gladly have seen. It was the Red Ferret himself, free and joyous. + +With swift furtive steps he was across the room and on his knees beside +the couch, kissing the pendent hand. "You have saved me, most noble +sir!" he cried. "The gallows was fixed and the rope slung, when the good +Lord Chandos told the King that you would die by your own hand if I were +slain. 'Curse this mule-headed Squire!' he cried. 'In God's name let him +have his prisoner, and let him do what he will with him so long as he +troubles me no more!' So here I have come, fair sir, to ask you what I +shall do." + +"I pray you to sit beside me and be at your ease," said Nigel. "In a few +words I will tell you what I would have you do. Your armor I will +keep, that I may have some remembrance of my good fortune in meeting so +valiant a gentleman. We are of a size, and I make little doubt that I +can wear it. Of ransom I would ask a thousand crowns." + +"Nay, nay!" cried the Ferret. "It would be a sad thing if a man of my +position was worth less than five thousand." + +"A thousand will suffice, fair sir, to pay my charges for the war. You +will not again play the spy, nor do us harm until the truce is broken." + +"That I will swear." + +"And lastly there is a journey that you shall make." + +The Frenchman's face lengthened. "Where you order I must go," said he; +"but I pray you that it is not to the Holy Land." + +"Nay," said Nigel; "but it is to a land which is holy to me. You will +make your way back to Southampton." + +"I know it well. I helped to burn it down some years ago." + +"I rede you to say nothing of that matter when you get there. You will +then journey as though to London until you come to a fair town named +Guildford." + +"I have heard of it. The King hath a hunt there." + +"The same. You will then ask for a house named Cosford, two leagues from +the town on the side of a long hill." + +"I will bear it in mind." + +"At Cosford you will see a good knight named Sir John Buttesthorn, and +you will ask to have speech with his daughter, the Lady Mary." + +"I will do so; and what shall I say to the Lady Mary, who lives at +Cosford on the slope of a long hill two leagues from the fair town of +Guildford?" + +"Say only that I sent my greeting, and that Saint Catharine has been my +friend--only that and nothing more. And now leave me, I pray you, for my +head is weary and I would fain have sleep." + +Thus it came about that a month later on the eve of the Feast of Saint +Matthew, the Lady Mary, as she walked front Cosford gates, met with +a strange horseman, richly clad, a serving-man behind him, looking +shrewdly about him with quick blue eyes, which twinkled from a red and +freckled face. At sight of her he doffed his hat and reined his horse. + +"This house should be Cosford," said he. "Are you by chance the Lady +Mary who dwells there?" + +The lady bowed her proud dark head. + +"Then," said he, "Squire Nigel Loring sends you greeting and tells you +that Saint Catharine has been his friend." Then turning to his servant +he cried: "Heh, Raoul, our task is done! Your master is a free man once +more. Come, lad, come, the nearest port to France! Hola! Hola! Hola!" +And so without a word more the two, master and man, set spurs to their +horses and galloped like madmen down the long slope of Hindhead, until +as she looked after them they were but two dark dots in the distance, +waist-high in the ling and the bracken. + +She turned back to the house, a smile upon her face. Nigel had sent her +greeting. A Frenchman had brought it. His bringing it had made him a +freeman. And Saint Catherine had been Nigel's friend. It was at her +shrine that he had sworn that three deeds should be done ere he should +set eyes upon her again. In the privacy of her room the Lady Mary sank +upon her prie-dieu and poured forth the thanks of her heart to the +Virgin that one deed was accomplished; but even as she did so her joy +was overcast by the thought of those two others which lay before him. + + + + +XVI. HOW THE KING'S COURT FEASTED IN CALAIS CASTLE + + +It was a bright sunshiny morning when Nigel found himself at last able +to leave his turret chamber and to walk upon the rampart of the castle. +There was a brisk northern wind, heavy and wet with the salt of the +sea, and he felt, as he turned his face to it, fresh life and strength +surging in his blood and bracing his limbs. He took his hand from +Aylward's supporting arm and stood with his cap off, leaning on the +rampart and breathing in the cool strong air. Far off upon the distant +sky-line, half hidden by the heave of the waves, was the low white +fringe of cliffs which skirted England. Between him and them lay the +broad blue Channel, seamed and flecked with flashing foam, for a sharp +sea was running and the few ships in sight were laboring heavily. +Nigel's eyes traversed the wide-spread view, rejoicing in the change +from the gray wall of his cramped chamber. Finally they settled upon a +strange object at his very feet. + +It was a long trumpet-shaped engine of leather and iron bolted into a +rude wooden stand and fitted with wheels. Beside it lay a heap of metal +slugs and lumps of stone. The end of the machine was raised and pointed +over the battlement. Behind it stood an iron box which Nigel opened. It +was filled with a black coarse powder, like gritty charcoal. + +"By Saint Paul!" said he, passing his hands over the engine, "I have +heard men talk of these things, but never before have I seen one. It is +none other than one of those wondrous new-made bombards." + +"In sooth, it is even as you say," Aylward answered, looking at it +with contempt and dislike in his face. "I have seen them here upon +the ramparts, and have also exchanged a buffet or two with him who had +charge of them. He was jack-fool enough to think that with this leather +pipe he could outshoot the best archer in Christendom. I lent him a cuff +on the ear that laid him across his foolish engine." + +"It is a fearsome thing," said Nigel, who had stooped to examine it. +"We live in strange times when such things can be made. It is loosed by +fire, is it not, which springs from the black dust?" + +"By my hilt! fair sir, I know not. And yet I call to mind that ere we +fell out this foolish bombardman did say something of the matter. The +fire-dust is within and so also is the ball. Then you take more dust +from this iron box and place it in the hole at the farther end--so. It +is now ready. I have never seen one fired, but I wot that this one could +be fired now." + +"It makes a strange sound, archer, does it not?" said Nigel wistfully. + +"So I have heard, fair sir--even as the bow twangs, so it also has a +sound when you loose it." + +"There is no one to hear, since we are alone upon the rampart, nor can +it do scathe, since it points to sea. I pray you to loose it and I will +listen to the sound." He bent over the bombard with an attentive ear, +while Aylward, stooping his earnest brown face over the touch-hole, +scraped away diligently with a flint and steel. A moment later both he +and Nigel were seated some distance off upon the ground while amid the +roar of the discharge and the thick cloud of smoke they had a vision +of the long black snakelike engine shooting back upon the recoil. For a +minute or more they were struck motionless with astonishment while the +reverberations died away and the smoke wreaths curled slowly up to the +blue heavens. + +"Good lack!" cried Nigel at last, picking himself up and looking round +him. "Good lack, and Heaven be my aid! I thank the Virgin that all +stands as it did before. I thought that the castle had fallen." + +"Such a bull's bellow I have never heard," cried Aylward, rubbing +his injured limbs. "One could hear it from Frensham Pond to Guildford +Castle. I would not touch one again--not for a hide of the best land in +Puttenham!" + +"It may fare ill with your own hide, archer, if you do," said an angry +voice behind them. Chandos had stepped from the open door of the corner +turret and stood looking at them with a harsh gaze. Presently, as the +matter was made clear to him his face relaxed into a smile. + +"Hasten to the warden, archer, and tell him how it befell. You will have +the castle and the town in arms. I know not what the King may think of +so sudden an alarm. And you, Nigel, how in the name of the saints came +you to play the child like this?" + +"I knew not its power, fair lord." + +"By my soul, Nigel, I think that none of us know its power. I can see +the day when all that we delight in, the splendor and glory of war, may +all go down before that which beats through the plate of steel as easily +as the leathern jacket. I have bestrode my warhorse in my armor and have +looked down at the sooty, smoky bombardman beside me, and I have thought +that perhaps I was the last of the old and he the first of the new; that +there would come a time when he and his engines would sweep you and me +and the rest of us from the field." + +"But not yet, I trust, honored sir?" + +"No, not yet, Nigel. You are still in time to win your spurs even as +your fathers did. How is your strength?" + +"I am ready for any task, my good and honored lord." + +"It is well, for work awaits us--good work, pressing work, work of peril +and of honor. Your eyes shine and your face flushes, Nigel. I live my +own youth over again as I look at you. Know then that though there is +truce with the French here, there is not truce in Brittany where the +houses of Blois and of Montfort still struggle for the dukedom. Half +Brittany fights for one, and half for the other. The French have taken +up the cause of Blois, and we of Montfort, and it is such a war that +many a great leader, such as Sir Walter Manny, has first earned his name +there. Of late the war has gone against us, and the bloody hands of the +Rohans, of Gaptooth Beaumanoir, of Oliver the Flesher and others have +been heavy upon our people. The last tidings have been of disaster, +and the King's soul is dark with wrath for that his friend and comrade +Gilles de St. Pol has been done to death in the Castle of La Brohiniere. +He will send succors to the country, and we go at their head. How like +you that, Nigel?" + +"My honored lord, what could I ask for better?" + +"Then have your harness ready, for we start within the week. Our path +by land is blocked by the French, and we go by sea. This night the King +gives a banquet ere he returns to England, and your place is behind my +chair. Be in my chamber that you may help me to dress, and so we will to +the hall together." + +With satin and with samite, with velvet and with fur, the noble Chandos +was dressed for the King's feast, and Nigel too had donned his best silk +jupon, faced with the five scarlet roses, that he might wait upon him. +In the great hall of Calais Castle the tables were set, a high table for +the lords, a second one for the less distinguished knights, and a third +at which the squires might feast when their masters were seated. + +Never had Nigel in his simple life at Tilford pictured a scene of such +pomp and wondrous luxury. The grim gray walls were covered from ceiling +to floor with priceless tapestry of Arras, where hart, hounds and +huntsmen circled the great hall with one long living image of the chase. +Over the principal table drooped a line of banners, and beneath them +rows of emblazoned shields upon the wall carried the arms of the high +noblemen who sat beneath. The red light of cressets and of torches +burned upon the badges of the great captains of England. The lions and +lilies shone over the high dorseret chair in the center, and the same +august device marked with the cadency label indicated the seat of the +Prince, while glowing to right and to left were the long lines of noble +insignia, honored in peace and terrible in war. There shone the gold +and sable of Manny, the engrailed cross of Suffolk, the red chevron of +Stafford, the scarlet and gold of Audley, the blue lion rampant of +the Percies, the silver swallows of Arundel, the red roebuck of the +Montacutes, the star of the de Veres, the silver scallops of Russell, +the purple lion of de Lacy, and the black crosses of Clinton. + +A friendly Squire at Nigel's elbow whispered the names of the famous +warriors beneath. "You are young Loring of Tilford, the Squire of +Chandos, are you not?" said he. "My name is Delves, and I come from +Doddington in Cheshire. I am the Squire of Sir James Audley, yonder +round-backed man with the dark face and close-cropped beard, who hath +the Saracen head as a crest above him." + +"I have heard of him as a man of great valor," said Nigel, gazing at him +with interest. + +"Indeed, you may well say so, Master Loring. He is the bravest knight +in England, and in Christendom also, as I believe. No man hath done such +deeds of valor." + +Nigel looked at his new acquaintance with hope in his eyes. "You speak +as it becomes you to speak when you uphold your own master," said he. +"For the same reason, Master Delves, and in no spirit of ill-will to +you, it behooves me to tell you that he is not to be compared in name +or fame with the noble knight on whom I wait. Should you hold otherwise, +then surely we can debate the matter in whatever way or time may please +you best." + +Delves smiled good-humoredly. "Nay, be not so hot," said he. "Had you +upheld any other knight, save perhaps Sir Walter Manny, I had taken you +at your word, and your master or mine would have had place for a new +Squire. But indeed it is only truth that no knight is second to Chandos, +nor would I draw my sword to lower his pride of place. Ha, Sir James' +cup is low! I must see to it!" He darted off, a flagon of Gascony in +his hand. "The King hath had good news to-night," he continued when he +returned. "I have not seen him in so merry a mind since the night when +we took the Frenchmen and he laid his pearl chaplet upon the head of +de Ribeaumont. See how he laughs, and the Prince also. That laugh bodes +some one little good, or I am the more mistaken. Have a care! Sir John's +plate is empty." + +It was Nigel's turn to dart away; but ever in the intervals he returned +to the corner whence he could look down the hall and listen to the words +of the older Squire. Delves was a short, thick-set man past middle age, +weather-beaten and scarred, with a rough manner and bearing which showed +that he was more at his ease in a tent than a hall. But ten years of +service had taught him much, and Nigel listened eagerly to his talk. + +"Indeed the King hath some good tidings," he continued. "See now, he +has whispered it to Chandos and to Manny. Manny spreads it on to Sir +Reginald Cobham, and he to Robert Knolles, each smiling like the Devil +over a friar." + +"Which is Sir Robert Knolles?" asked Nigel with interest. "I have heard +much of him and his deeds." + +"He is the tall hard-faced man in yellow silk, he with the hairless +cheeks and the split lip. He is little older than yourself, and his +father was a cobbler in Chester, yet he has already won the golden +spurs. See how he dabs his great hand in the dish and hands forth the +gobbets. He is more used to a camp-kettle than a silver plate. The big +man with the black beard is Sir Bartholomew Berghersh, whose brother is +the Abbot of Beaulieu. Haste, haste! for the boar's head is come and the +plate's to be cleaned." + +The table manners of our ancestors at this period would have furnished +to the modern eye the strangest mixture of luxury and of barbarism. +Forks were still unknown, and the courtesy fingers, the index and +the middle of the left hand, took their place. To use any others was +accounted the worst of manners. A crowd of dogs lay among the rushes +growling at each other and quarreling over the gnawed bones which were +thrown to them by the feasters. A slice of coarse bread served usually +as a plate, but the King's own high table was provided with silver +platters, which were wiped by the Squire or page after each course. On +the other hand the table-linen was costly, and the courses, served with +a pomp and dignity now unknown, comprised such a variety of dishes and +such complex marvels of cookery as no modern banquet could show. Besides +all our domestic animals and every kind of game, such strange delicacies +as hedgehogs, bustards, porpoises, squirrels, bitterns and cranes lent +variety to the feast. + +Each new course, heralded by a flourish of silver trumpets, was borne +in by liveried servants walking two and two, with rubicund marshals +strutting in front and behind, bearing white wands in their hands, not +only as badges of their office, but also as weapons with which to repel +any impertinent inroad upon the dishes in the journey from the kitchen +to the hall. Boar's heads, enarmed and endored with gilt tusks and +flaming mouths, were followed by wondrous pasties molded to the shape of +ships, castles and other devices with sugar seamen or soldiers who lost +their own bodies in their fruitless defense against the hungry attack. +Finally came the great nef, a silver vessel upon wheels laden with fruit +and sweetmeats which rolled with its luscious cargo down the line of +guests. Flagons of Gascony, of Rhine wine, of Canary and of Rochelle +were held in readiness by the attendants; but the age, though luxurious, +was not drunken, and the sober habits of the Norman had happily +prevailed over the license of those Saxon banquets where no guest might +walk from the table without a slur upon his host. Honor and hardihood go +ill with a shaking hand or a blurred eye. + +Whilst wine, fruit and spices were handed round the high tables +the squires had been served in turn at the farther end of the hall. +Meanwhile round the King there had gathered a group of statesmen and +soldiers, talking eagerly among themselves. The Earl of Stafford, the +Earl of Warwick, the Earl of Arundel, Lord Beauchamp and Lord Neville +were assembled at the back of his chair, with Lord Percy and Lord +Mowbray at either side. The little group blazed with golden chains and +jeweled chaplets, flame colored paltocks and purple tunics. + +Of a sudden the King said something over his shoulder to Sir William de +Pakyngton the herald, who advanced and stood by the royal chair. He was +a tall and noble-featured man, with long grizzled beard which rippled +down to the gold-linked belt girdling his many-colored tabard. On his +head he had placed the heraldic barret-cap which bespoke his dignity, +and he slowly raised his white wand high in the air, while a great hush +fell upon the hall. + +"My lords of England," said he, "knight bannerets, knights, squires, and +all others here present of gentle birth and coat-armor, know that your +dread and sovereign lord, Edward, King of England and of France, bids +me give you greeting and commands you to come hither that he may have +speech with you." + +In an instant the tables were deserted and the whole company had +clustered in front of the King's chair. Those who had sat on either side +of him crowded inward so that his tall dark figure upreared itself amid +the dense circle of his guests. + +With a flush upon his olive cheeks and with pride smoldering in his dark +eyes, he looked round him at the eager faces of the men who had been his +comrades from Sluys and Cadsand to Crecy and Calais. They caught fire +from that warlike gleam in his masterful gaze, and a sudden wild, fierce +shout pealed up to the vaulted ceiling, a soldierly thanks for what was +passed and a promise for what was to come. The King's teeth gleamed in a +quick smile, and his large white hand played with the jeweled dagger in +his belt. + +"By the splendor of God!" said he in a loud clear voice, "I have little +doubt that you will rejoice with me this night, for such tidings have +come to my ears as may well bring joy to everyone of you. You know well +that our ships have suffered great scathe from the Spaniards, who for +many years have slain without grace or ruth all of my people who have +fallen into their cruel hands. Of late they have sent their ships into +Flanders, and thirty great cogs and galleys lie now at Sluys well-filled +with archers and men-at-arms and ready in all ways for battle. I have +it to-day from a sure hand that, having taken their merchandise aboard, +these ships will sail upon the next Sunday and will make their way +through our Narrow Sea. We have for a great time been long-suffering to +these people, for which they have done us many contraries and despites, +growing ever more arrogant as we grow more patient. It is in my mind +therefore that we hie us to-morrow to Winchelsea, where we have twenty +ships, and make ready to sally out upon them as they pass. May God and +Saint George defend the right!" + +A second shout, far louder and fiercer than the first, came like a +thunderclap after the King's words. It was the bay of a fierce pack to +their trusted huntsman. + +Edward laughed again as he looked round at the gleaming eyes, the waving +arms and the flushed joyful faces of his liegemen. "Who hath fought +against these Spaniards?" he asked. "Is there anyone here who can tell +us what manner of men they be?" + +A dozen hands went up into the air; but the King turned to the Earl of +Suffolk at his elbow. + +"You have fought them, Thomas?" said he. + +"Yes, sire, I was in the great sea-fight eight years ago at the Island +of Guernsey, when Lord Lewis of Spain held the sea against the Earl of +Pembroke." + +"How found you them, Thomas?" + +"Very excellent people, sire, and no man could ask for better. On every +ship they have a hundred crossbowmen of Genoa, the best in the world, +and their spearmen also are very hardy men. They would throw great +cantles of iron from the tops of the masts, and many of our people met +their death through it. If we can bar their way in the Narrow Sea, then +there will be much hope of honor for all of us." + +"Your words are very welcome, Thomas," said the King, "and I make +no doubt that they will show themselves to be very worthy of what we +prepare for them. To you I give a ship, that you may have the handling +of it. You also, my dear son, shall have a ship, that evermore honor may +be thine." + +"I thank you, my fair and sweet father," said the Prince, with joy +flushing his handsome boyish face. + +"The leading ship shall be mine. But you shall have one, Walter Manny, +and you, Stafford, and you, Arundel, and you, Audley, and you, Sir +Thomas Holland, and you, Brocas, and you, Berkeley, and you, Reginald. +The rest shall be awarded at Winchelsea, whither we sail to-morrow. Nay, +John, why do you pluck so at my sleeve?" + +Chandos was leaning forward, with an anxious face. "Surely, my honored +lord, I have not served you so long and so faithfully that you should +forget me now. Is there then no ship for me?" + +The King smiled, but shook his head. "Nay, John, have I not given you +two hundred archers and a hundred men-at-arms to take with you into +Brittany? I trust that your ships will be lying in Saint Malo Bay ere +the Spaniards are abreast of Winchelsea. What more would you have, old +war-dog? Wouldst be in two battles at once?" + +"I would be at your side, my liege, when the lion banner is in the wind +once more. I have ever been there. Why should you cast me now? I ask +little, dear lord--a galley, a balinger, even a pinnace, so that I may +only be there." + +"Nay, John, you shall come. I cannot find it in my heart to say you +nay. I will find you place in my own ship, that you may indeed be by my +side." + +Chandos stooped and kissed the King's hand. "My Squire?" he asked. + +The King's brows knotted into a frown. "Nay, let him go to Brittany with +the others," said he harshly. "I wonder, John, that you should bring +back to my memory this youth whose pertness is too fresh that I should +forget it. But some one must go to Brittany in your stead, for the +matter presses and our people are hard put to it to hold their own." He +cast his eyes over the assembly, and they rested upon the stern features +of Sir Robert Knolles. + +"Sir Robert," he said, "though you are young in years you are already +old in war, and I have heard that you are as prudent in council as you +are valiant in the field. To you I commit the charge of this venture to +Brittany in place of Sir John Chandos, who will follow thither when our +work has been done upon the waters. Three ships lie in Calais port and +three hundred men are ready to your hand. Sir John will tell you what +our mind is in the matter. And now, my friends and good comrades, you +will haste you each to his own quarters, and you will make swiftly such +preparations as are needful, for, as God is my aid, I will sail with you +to Winchelsea to-morrow!" + +Beckoning to Chandos, Manny and a few of his chosen leaders, the King +led them away to an inner chamber, where they might discuss the plans +for the future. At the same time the assembly broke up, the knights in +silence and dignity, the squires in mirth and noise, but all joyful at +heart for the thought of the great days which lay before them. + + + + +XVII. THE SPANIARDS ON THE SEA + + +Day had not yet dawned when Nigel was in the chamber of Chandos +preparing him for his departure and listening to the last cheery words +of advice and direction from his noble master. That same morning, before +the sun was half-way up the heaven, the King's great nef Philippa, +bearing within it the most of those present at his banquet the night +before, set its huge sail, adorned with the lions and the lilies, and +turned its brazen beak for England. Behind it went five smaller cogs +crammed with squires, archers and men-at-arms. + +Nigel and his companions lined the ramparts of the castle and waved +their caps as the bluff, burly vessels, with drums beating and trumpets +clanging, a hundred knightly pennons streaming from their decks and the +red cross of England over all, rolled slowly out to the open sea. Then +when they had watched them until they were hull down they turned, with +hearts heavy at being left behind, to make ready for their own more +distant venture. + +It took them four days of hard work ere their preparations were +complete, for many were the needs of a small force sailing to a strange +country. Three ships had been left to them, the cog Thomas of Romney, +the Grace Dieu of Hythe, and the Basilisk of Southampton, into each of +which one hundred men were stowed, besides the thirty seamen who formed +the crew. In the hold were forty horses, amongst them Pommers, much +wearied by his long idleness, and homesick for the slopes of Surrey +where his great limbs might find the work he craved. Then the food and +the water, the bow-staves and the sheaves of arrows, the horseshoes, the +nails, the hammers, the knives, the axes, the ropes, the vats of hay, +the green fodder and a score of other things were packed aboard. Always +by the side of the ships stood the stern young knight Sir Robert, +checking, testing, watching and controlling, saying little, for he was a +man of few words, but with his eyes, his hands, and if need be his heavy +dog-whip, wherever they were wanted. + +The seamen of the Basilisk, being from a free port, had the old feud +against the men of the Cinque Ports, who were looked upon by the other +mariners of England as being unduly favored by the King. A ship of the +West Country could scarce meet with one from the Narrow Seas without +blood flowing. Hence sprang sudden broils on the quay side, when with +yell and blow the Thomases and Grace Dieus, Saint Leonard on their lips +and murder in their hearts, would fall upon the Basilisks. Then amid the +whirl of cudgels and the clash of knives would spring the tiger figure +of the young leader, lashing mercilessly to right and left like a tamer +among his wolves, until he had beaten them howling back to their work. +Upon the morning of the fourth day all was ready, and the ropes being +cast off the three little ships were warped down the harbor by their own +pinnaces until they were swallowed up in the swirling folds of a Channel +mist. + +Though small in numbers, it was no mean force which Edward had +dispatched to succor the hard-pressed English garrisons in Brittany. +There was scarce a man among them who was not an old soldier, and their +leaders were men of note in council and in war. Knolles flew his flag +of the black raven aboard the Basilisk. With him were Nigel and his own +Squire John Hawthorn. Of his hundred men, forty were Yorkshire Dalesmen +and forty were men of Lincoln, all noted archers, with old Wat of +Carlisle, a grizzled veteran of border warfare, to lead them. + +Already Aylward by his skill and strength had won his way to an +under-officership amongst them, and shared with Long Ned Widdington, +a huge North Countryman, the reputation of coming next to famous +Wat Carlisle in all that makes an archer. The men-at-arms too were +war-hardened soldiers, with Black Simon of Norwich, the same who had +sailed from Winchelsea, to lead them. With his heart filled with hatred +for the French who had slain all who were dear to him, he followed +like a bloodhound over land and sea to any spot where he might glut +his vengeance. Such also were the men who sailed in the other ships, +Cheshire men from the Welsh borders in the cog Thomas, and Cumberland +men, used to Scottish warfare, in the Grace Dieu. + +Sir James Astley hung his shield of cinquefoil ermine over the quarter +of the Thomas. Lord Thomas Percy, a cadet of Alnwick, famous already +for the high spirit of that house which for ages was the bar upon the +landward gate of England, showed his blue lion rampant as leader of the +Grace Dieu. Such was the goodly company Saint-Malo bound, who warped +from Calais Harbor to plunge into the thick reek of a Channel mist. + +A slight breeze blew from the eastward, and the highended, round-bodied +craft rolled slowly down the Channel. The mist rose a little at times, +so that they had sight of each other dipping and rising upon a sleek, +oily sea, but again it would sink down, settling over the top, shrouding +the great yard, and finally frothing over the deck until even the water +alongside had vanished from their view and they were afloat on a little +raft in an ocean of vapor. A thin cold rain was falling, and the archers +were crowded under the shelter of the overhanging poop and forecastle, +where some spent the hours at dice, some in sleep, and many in trimming +their arrows or polishing their weapons. + +At the farther end, seated on a barrel as a throne of honor, with +trays and boxes of feathers around him, was Bartholomew the bowyer and +Fletcher, a fat, bald-headed man, whose task it was to see that every +man's tackle was as it should be, and who had the privilege of selling +such extras as they might need. A group of archers with their staves and +quivers filed before him with complaints or requests, while half a dozen +of the seniors gathered at his back and listened with grinning faces to +his comments and rebukes. + +"Canst not string it?" he was saying to a young bowman. "Then surely the +string is overshort or the stave overlong. It could not by chance be the +fault of thy own baby arms more fit to draw on thy hosen than to dress a +warbow. Thou lazy lurdan, thus is it strung!" He seized the stave by +the center in his right hand, leaned the end on the inside of his right +foot, and then, pulling the upper nock down with the left hand, slid +the eye of the string easily into place. "Now I pray thee to unstring it +again," handing it to the bowman. + +The youth with an effort did so, but he was too slow in disengaging his +fingers, and the string sliding down with a snap from the upper nock +caught and pinched them sorely against the stave. A roar of laughter, +like the clap of a wave, swept down the deck as the luckless bowman +danced and wrung his hand. + +"Serve thee well right, thou redeless fool!" growled the old bowyer. +"So fine a bow is wasted in such hands. How now, Samkin? I can teach you +little of your trade, I trow. Here is a bow dressed as it should be; but +it would, as you say, be the better for a white band to mark the true +nocking point in the center of this red wrapping of silk. Leave it and I +will tend to it anon. And you, Wat? A fresh head on yonder stele? +Lord, that a man should carry four trades under one hat, and be bowyer, +fletcher, stringer and headmaker! Four men's work for old Bartholomew +and one man's pay!" + +"Nay, say no more about that," growled an old wizened bowman, with a +brown-parchment skin and little beady eyes. "It is better in these days +to mend a bow than to bend one. You who never looked a Frenchman in the +face are pricked off for ninepence a day, and I, who have fought five +stricken fields, can earn but fourpence." + +"It is in my mind, John of Tuxford, that you have looked in the face +more pots of mead than Frenchmen," said the old bowyer. "I am swinking +from dawn to night, while you are guzzling in an alestake. How now, +youngster? Overbowed? Put your bow in the tiller. It draws at sixty +pounds--not a pennyweight too much for a man of your inches. Lay more +body to it, lad, and it will come to you. If your bow be not stiff, how +can you hope for a twenty-score flight. Feathers? Aye, plenty and of the +best. Here, peacock at a groat each. Surely a dandy archer like you, Tom +Beverley, with gold earrings in your ears, would have no feathering but +peacocks?" + +"So the shaft fly straight, I care not of the feather," said the bowman, +a tall young Yorkshireman, counting out pennies on the palm of his horny +hand. + +"Gray goose-feathers are but a farthing. These on the left are a +halfpenny, for they are of the wild goose, and the second feather of a +fenny goose is worth more than the pinion of a tame one. These in the +brass tray are dropped feathers, and a dropped feather is better than +a plucked one. Buy a score of these, lad, and cut them saddle-backed or +swine-backed, the one for a dead shaft and the other for a smooth flyer, +and no man in the company will swing a better-fletched quiver over his +shoulder." + +It chanced that the opinion of the bowyer on this and other points +differed from that of Long Ned of Widdington, a surly straw-bearded +Yorkshireman, who had listened with a sneering face to his counsel. Now +he broke in suddenly upon the bowyer's talk. "You would do better to +sell bows than to try to teach others how to use them," said he; "for +indeed, Bartholomew, that head of thine has no more sense within it than +it has hairs without. If you had drawn string for as many months as I +have years you would know that a straight-cut feather flies smoother +than a swine-backed, and pity it is that these young bowmen have none to +teach them better!" + +This attack upon his professional knowledge touched the old bowyer on +the raw. His fat face became suffused with blood and his eyes glared +with fury as he turned upon the archer. "You seven-foot barrel of lies!" +he cried. "All-hallows be my aid, and I will teach you to open your +slabbing mouth against me! Pluck forth your sword and stand out on +yonder deck, that we may see who is the man of us twain. May I never +twirl a shaft over my thumb nail if I do not put Bartholomew's mark upon +your thick head!" + +A score of rough voices joined at once in the quarrel, some upholding +the bowyer and others taking the part of the North Countryman. A +red-headed Dalesman snatched up a sword, but was felled by a blow from +the fist of his neighbor. Instantly, with a buzz like a swarm of angry +hornets, the bowmen were out on the deck; but ere a blow was struck +Knolles was amongst them with granite face and eyes of fire. + +"Stand apart, I say! I will warrant you enough fighting to cool your +blood ere you see England once more. Loring, Hawthorn, cut any man down +who raises his hand. Have you aught to say, you fox-haired rascal?" He +thrust his face within two inches of that of the red man who had first +seized his sword. The fellow shrank back, cowed, from his fierce +eyes. "Now stint your noise, all of you, and stretch your long ears. +Trumpeter, blow once more!" + +A bugle call had been sounded every quarter of an hour so as to keep in +touch with the other two vessels who were invisible in the fog. Now the +high clear note rang out once more, the call of a fierce sea-creature to +its mates, but no answer came back from the thick wall which pent them +in. Again and again they called, and again and again with bated breath +they waited for an answer. + +"Where is the Shipman?" asked Knolles. "What is your name, fellow? Do +you dare call yourself master-mariner?" + +"My name is Nat Dennis, fair sir," said the gray-bearded old seaman. "It +is thirty years since first I showed my cartel and blew trumpet for +a crew at the water-gate of Southampton. If any man may call himself +master-mariner, it is surely I." + +"Where are our two ships?" + +"Nay, sir, who can say in this fog?" + +"Fellow, it was your place to hold them together." + +"I have but the eyes God gave me, fair sir, and they cannot see through +a cloud." + +"Had it been fair, I, who am a soldier, could have kept them in company. +Since it was foul, we looked to you, who are called a mariner, to do so. +You have not done it. You have lost two of my ships ere the venture is +begun." + +"Nay, fair sir, I pray you to consider--" + +"Enough words!" said Knolles sternly. "Words will not give me back my +two hundred men. Unless I find them before I come to Saint-Malo, I swear +by Saint Wilfrid of Ripon that it will be an evil day for you! Enough! +Go forth and do what you may!" + +For five hours with a light breeze behind them they lurched through the +heavy fog, the cold rain still matting their beards and shining on their +faces. Sometimes they could see a circle of tossing water for a bowshot +or so in each direction, and then the wreaths would crawl in upon them +once more and bank them thickly round. They had long ceased to blow the +trumpet for their missing comrades, but had hopes when clear weather +came to find them still in sight. By the shipman's reckoning they were +now about midway between the two shores. + +Nigel was leaning against the bulwarks, his thoughts away in the +dingle at Cosford and out on the heather-clad slopes of Hindhead, when +something struck his ear. It was a thin clear clang of metal, pealing +out high above the dull murmur of the sea, the creak of the boom and the +flap of the sail. He listened, and again it was borne to his ear. + +"Hark, my lord!" said he to Sir Robert. "Is there not a sound in the +fog?" + +They both listened together with sidelong heads. Then it rang clearly +forth once more, but this time in another direction. It had been on the +bow; now it was on the quarter. Again it sounded, and again. Now it had +moved to the other bow; now back to the quarter again; now it was near; +and now so far that it was but a faint tinkle on the ear. By this time +every man on board, seamen, archers and men-at-arms, were crowding the +sides of the vessel. All round them there were noises in the darkness, +and yet the wall of fog lay wet against their very faces. And the noises +were such as were strange to their ears, always the same high musical +clashing. + +The old shipman shook his head and crossed himself. + +"In thirty years upon the waters I have never heard the like," said +he. "The Devil is ever loose in a fog. Well is he named the Prince of +Darkness." + +A wave of panic passed over the vessel, and these rough and hardy men +who feared no mortal foe shook with terror at the shadows of their own +minds. They stared into the cloud with blanched faces and fixed eyes, as +though each instant some fearsome shape might break in upon them. And +as they stared there came a gust of wind. For a moment the fog-bank rose +and a circle of ocean lay before them. + +It was covered with vessels. On all sides they lay thick upon its +surface. They were huge caracks, high-ended and portly, with red sides +and bulwarks carved and crusted with gold. Each had one great sail set +and was driving down channel on the same course at the Basilisk. Their +decks were thick with men, and from their high poops came the weird +clashing which filled the air. For one moment they lay there, this +wondrous fleet, surging slowly forward, framed in gray vapor. The next +the clouds closed in and they had vanished from view. There was a long +hush, and then a buzz of excited voices. + +"The Spaniards!" cried a dozen bowmen and sailors. + +"I should have known it," said the shipman. "I call to mind on the +Biscay Coast how they would clash their cymbals after the fashion of the +heathen Moor with whom they fight; but what would you have me do, fair +sir? If the fog rises we are all dead men." + +"There were thirty ships at the least," said Knolles, with a moody brow. +"If we have seen them I trow that they have also seen us. They will lay +us aboard." + +"Nay, fair sir, it is in my mind that our ship is lighter and faster +than theirs. If the fog hold another hour we should be through them." + +"Stand to your arms!" yelled Knolles. "Stand to your arms--! They are on +us!" + +The Basilisk had indeed been spied from the Spanish Admiral's ship +before the fog closed down. With so light a breeze, and such a fog, +he could not hope to find her under sail. But by an evil chance not a +bowshot from the great Spanish carack was a low galley, thin and swift, +with oars which could speed her against wind or tide. She also had +seen the Basilisk and it was to her that the Spanish leader shouted his +orders. For a few minutes she hunted through the fog, and then sprang +out of it like a lean and stealthy beast upon its prey. It was the sight +of the long dark shadow gliding after them which had brought that wild +shout of alarm from the lips of the English knight. In another instant +the starboard oars of the galley had been shipped, the sides of the two +vessels grated together, and a stream of swarthy, red-capped Spaniards +were swarming up the sides of the Basilisk and dropped with yells of +triumph upon her deck. + +For a moment it seemed as if the vessel was captured without a blow +being struck, for the men of the English ship had run wildly in all +directions to look for their arms. Scores of archers might be seen under +the shadow of the forecastle and the poop bending their bowstaves to +string them with the cords from their waterproof cases. Others were +scrambling over saddles, barrels and cases in wild search of their +quivers. Each as he came upon his arrows pulled out a few to lend to his +less fortunate comrades. In mad haste the men-at-arms also were feeling +and grasping in the dark corners, picking up steel caps which would not +fit them, hurling them down on the deck, and snatching eagerly at any +swords or spears that came their way. + +The center of the ship was held by the Spaniards; and having slain all +who stood before them, they were pressing up to either end before they +were made to understand that it was no fat sheep but a most fierce old +wolf which they had taken by the ears. + +If the lesson was late, it was the more thorough. Attacked on both sides +and hopelessly outnumbered, the Spaniards, who had never doubted that +this little craft was a merchant-ship, were cut off to the last man. +It was no fight, but a butchery. In vain the survivors ran screaming +prayers to the saints and threw themselves down into the galley +alongside. It also had been riddled with arrows from the poop of the +Basilisk, and both the crew on the deck and the galley-slaves in the +outriggers at either side lay dead in rows under the overwhelming +shower from above. From stem to rudder every foot of her was furred +with arrows. It was but a floating coffin piled with dead and dying men, +which wallowed in the waves behind them as the Basilisk lurched onward +and left her in the fog. + +In their first rush on to the Basilisk, the Spaniards had seized six of +the crew and four unarmed archers. Their throats had been cut and +their bodies tossed overboard. Now the Spaniards who littered the deck, +wounded and dead, were thrust over the side in the same fashion. One ran +down into the hold and had to be hunted and killed squealing under the +blows like a rat in the darkness. Within half an hour no sign was left +of this grim meeting in the fog save for the crimson splashes upon +bulwarks and deck. The archers, flushed and merry, were unstringing +their bows once more, for in spite of the water glue the damp air took +the strength from the cords. Some were hunting about for arrows which +might have stuck inboard, and some tying up small injuries received in +the scuffle. But an anxious shadow still lingered upon the face of Sir +Robert, and he peered fixedly about him through the fog. + +"Go among the archers, Hawthorne," said he to his Squire. "Charge them +on their lives to make no sound! You also, Loring. Go to the afterguard +and say the same to them. We are lost if one of these great ships should +spy us." + +For an hour with bated breath they stole through the fleet, still +hearing the cymbals clashing all round them, for in this way the +Spaniards held themselves together. Once the wild music came from above +their very prow, and so warned them to change their course. Once also +a huge vessel loomed for an instant upon their quarter, but they turned +two points away from her, and she blurred and vanished. Soon the cymbals +were but a distant tinkling, and at last they died gradually away. + +"It is none too soon," said the old shipman, pointing to a yellowish +tint in the haze above them. "See yonder! It is the sun which wins +through. It will be here anon. Ah! said I not so?" + +A sickly sun, no larger and far dimmer than the moon, had indeed shown +its face, with cloud-wreaths smoking across it. As they looked up it +waxed larger and brighter before their eyes--a yellow halo spread round +it, one ray broke through, and then a funnel of golden light poured +down upon them, widening swiftly at the base. A minute later they were +sailing on a clear blue sea with an azure cloud-flecked sky above their +heads, and such a scene beneath it as each of them would carry in his +memory while memory remained. + +They were in mid-channel. The white and green coasts of Picardy and of +Kent lay clear upon either side of them. The wide channel stretched in +front, deepening from the light blue beneath their prow to purple on the +far sky-line. Behind them was that thick bank of cloud from which they +had just burst. It lay like a gray wall from east to west, and through +it were breaking the high shadowy forms of the ships of Spain. Four of +them had already emerged, their red bodies, gilded sides and painted +sails shining gloriously in the evening sun. Every instant a fresh +golden spot grew out of the fog, which blazed like a star for an +instant, and then surged forward to show itself as the brazen beak of +the great red vessel which bore it. Looking back, the whole bank of +cloud was broken by the widespread line of noble ships which were +bursting through it. The Basilisk lay a mile or more in front of them +and two miles clear of their wing. Five miles farther off, in the +direction of the French coast, two other small ships were running +down Channel. A cry of joy from Robert Knolles and a hearty prayer +of gratitude to the saints from the old shipman hailed them as their +missing comrades, the cog Thomas and the Grace Dieu. + +But fair as was the view of their lost friends, and wondrous the +appearance of the Spanish ships, it was not on those that the eyes of +the men of the Basilisk were chiefly bent. A greater sight lay before +them--a sight which brought them clustering to the forecastle with eager +eyes and pointing fingers. The English fleet was coming forth from the +Winchelsea Coast. Already before the fog lifted a fast galleass had +brought the news down Channel that the Spanish were on the sea, and the +King's fleet was under way. Now their long array of sails, gay with +the coats and colors of the towns which had furnished them, lay bright +against the Kentish coast from Dungeness Point to Rye. Nine and twenty +ships were there from Southampton, Shoreham, Winchelsea, Hastings, Rye, +Hythe, Romney, Folkestone, Deal, Dover and Sandwich. With their great +sails slued round to catch the wind they ran out, whilst the Spanish, +like the gallant foes that they have ever been, turned their heads +landward to meet them. With flaunting banners and painted sails, blaring +trumpets and clashing cymbals, the two glittering fleets, dipping and +rising on the long Channel swell, drew slowly together. + +King Edward had been lying all day in his great ship the Philippa, a +mile out from the Camber Sands, waiting for the coming of the Spaniards. +Above the huge sail which bore the royal arms flew the red cross of +England. Along the bulwarks were shown the shields of forty knights, the +flower of English chivalry, and as many pennons floated from the deck. +The high ends of the ship glittered with the weapons of the men-at-arms, +and the waist was crammed with the archers. From time to time a crash of +nakers and blare of trumpets burst from the royal ship, and was answered +by her great neighbors, the Lion on which the Black Prince flew his +flag, the Christopher with the Earl of Suffolk, the Salle du Roi of +Robert of Namur, and the Grace Marie of Sir Thomas Holland. Farther off +lay the White Swan, bearing the arms of Mowbray, the Palmer of Deal, +flying the Black Head of Audley, and the Kentish man under the Lord +Beauchamp. The rest lay, anchored but ready, at the mouth of Winchelsea +Creek. + +The King sat upon a keg in the fore part of his ship, with little John +of Richmond, who was no more than a schoolboy, perched upon his knee. +Edward was clad in the black velvet jacket which was his favorite garb, +and wore a small brown-beaver hat with a white plume at the side. A rich +cloak of fur turned up with miniver drooped from his shoulders. Behind +him were a score of his knights, brilliant in silks and sarcenets, +some seated on an upturned boat and some swinging their legs from the +bulwark. + +In front stood John Chandos in a party-colored jupon, one foot raised +upon the anchor-stock, picking at the strings of his guitar and singing +a song which he had learned at Marienburg when last he helped the +Teutonic knights against the heathen. The King, his knights, and even +the archers in the waist below them, laughed at the merry lilt and +joined lustily in the chorus, while the men of the neighboring ships +leaned over the side to hearken to the deep chant rolling over the +waters. + +But there came a sudden interruption to the song. A sharp, harsh shout +came down from the lookout stationed in the circular top at the end of +the mast. "I spy a sail--two sails!" he cried. + +John Bunce the King's shipman shaded his eyes and stared at the long +fog-bank which shrouded the northern channel. Chandos, with his fingers +over the strings of his guitar, the King, the knights, all gazed in the +same direction. Two small dark shapes had burst forth, and then after +some minutes a third. + +"Surely they are the Spaniards?" said the King. + +"Nay, sire," the seaman answered, "the Spaniards are greater ships and +are painted red. I know not what these may be." + +"But I could hazard a guess!" cried Chandos. "Surely they are the three +ships with my own men on their way to Brittany." + +"You have hit it, John," said the King. "But look, I pray you! What in +the name of the Virgin is that?" + +Four brilliant stars of flashing light had shone out from different +points of the cloud-bank. The next instant as many tall ships had +swooped forth into the sunshine. A fierce shout rang from the King's +ship, and was taken up all down the line, until the whole coast from +Dungeness to Winchelsea echoed the warlike greeting. The King sprang up +with a joyous face. + +"The game is afoot, my friends!" said he. "Dress, John! Dress, Walter! +Quick all of you! Squires, bring the harness! Let each tend to himself, +for the time is short." + +A strange sight it was to see these forty nobles tearing off their +clothes and littering the deck with velvets and satins, whilst the +squire of each, as busy as an ostler before a race, stooped and pulled +and strained and riveted, fastening the bassinets, the legpieces, the +front and the back plates, until the silken courtier had become the man +of steel. When their work was finished, there stood a stern group of +warriors where the light dandies had sung and jested round Sir John's +guitar. Below in orderly silence the archers were mustering under their +officers and taking their allotted stations. A dozen had swarmed up to +their hazardous post in the little tower in the tops. + +"Bring wine, Nicholas!" cried the King. "Gentlemen, ere you close your +visors I pray you to take a last rouse with me. You will be dry enough, +I promise you, before your lips are free once more. To what shall we +drink, John?" + +"To the men of Spain," said Chandos, his sharp face peering like a gaunt +bird through the gap in his helmet. "May their hearts be stout and their +spirits high this day!" + +"Well said, John!" cried the King, and the knights laughed joyously as +they drank. "Now, fair sirs, let each to his post! I am warden here on +the forecastle. Do you, John, take charge of the afterguard. Walter, +James, William, Fitzallan, Goldesborough, Reginald--you will stay with +me! John, you may pick whom you will and the others will bide with the +archers. Now bear straight at the center, master-shipman. Ere yonder +sun sets we will bring a red ship back as a gift to our ladies, or never +look upon a lady's face again." + +The art of sailing into a wind had not yet been invented, nor was there +any fore-and-aft canvas, save for small headsails with which a vessel +could be turned. Hence the English fleet had to take a long slant down +channel to meet their enemies; but as the Spaniards coming before the +wind were equally anxious to engage there was the less delay. With +stately pomp and dignity, the two great fleets approached. + +It chanced that one fine carack had outstripped its consorts and came +sweeping along, all red and gold, with a fringe of twinkling steel, a +good half-mile before the fleet. Edward looked at her with a kindling +eye, for indeed she was a noble sight with the blue water creaming under +her gilded prow. + +"This is a most worthy and debonair vessel, Master Bunce," said he to +the shipman beside him. "I would fain have a tilt with her. I pray you +to hold us straight that we may bear her down." + +"If I hold her straight, then one or other must sink, and it may be +both," the seaman answered. + +"I doubt not that with the help of our Lady we shall do our part," said +the King. "Hold her straight, master-shipman, as I have told you." + +Now the two vessels were within arrow flight, and the bolts from the +crossbowmen pattered upon the English ship. These short thick devil's +darts were everywhere humming like great wasps through the air, crashing +against the bulwarks, beating upon the deck, ringing loudly on the armor +of the knights, or with a soft muffled thud sinking to the socket in a +victim. + +The bowmen along either side of the Philippa had stood motionless +waiting for their orders, but now there was a sharp shout from their +leader, and every string twanged together. The air was full of their +harping, together with the swish of the arrows, the long-drawn keening +of the bowmen and the short deep bark of the under-officers. "Steady, +steady! Loose steady! Shoot wholly together! Twelve score paces! Ten +score! Now eight! Shoot wholly together!" Their gruff shouts broke +through the high shrill cry like the deep roar of a wave through the +howl of the wind. + +As the two great ships hurtled together the Spaniard turned away a few +points so that the blow should be a glancing one. None the less it was +terrific. A dozen men in the tops of the carack were balancing a huge +stone with the intention of dropping it over on the English deck. With a +scream of horror they saw the mast cracking beneath them. Over it went, +slowly at first, then faster, until with a crash it came down on its +side, sending them flying like stones from a sling far out into the sea. +A swath of crushed bodies lay across the deck where the mast had fallen. +But the English ship had not escaped unscathed. Her mast held, it is +true, but the mighty shock not only stretched every man flat upon the +deck, but had shaken a score of those who lined her sides into the sea. +One bowman was hurled from the top, and his body fell with a dreadful +crash at the very side of the prostrate King upon the forecastle. Many +were thrown down with broken arms and legs from the high castles at +either end into the waist of the ship. Worst of all, the seams had been +opened by the crash and the water was gushing in at a dozen places. + +But these were men of experience and of discipline, men who had already +fought together by sea and by land, so that each knew his place and his +duty. Those who could staggered to their feet and helped up a score or +more of knights who were rolling and clashing in the scuppers unable to +rise for the weight of their armor. The bowmen formed up as before. The +seamen ran to the gaping seams with oakum and with tar. In ten minutes +order had been restored and the Philippa, though shaken and weakened, +was ready for battle once more. The King was glaring round him like a +wounded boar. + +"Grapple my ship with that," he cried, pointing to the crippled +Spaniard, "for I would have possession of her!" + +But already the breeze had carried them past it, and a dozen Spanish +ships were bearing down full upon them. + +"We cannot win back to her, lest we show our flank to these others," +said the shipman. + +"Let her go her way!" cried the knights. "You shall have better than +her." + +"By Saint George! you speak the truth," said the King, "for she is ours +when we have time to take her. These also seem very worthy ships which +are drawing up to us, and I pray you, master-shipman, that you will have +a tilt with the nearest." + +A great carack was within a bowshot of them and crossing their bows. +Bunce looked up at his mast, and he saw that already it was shaken and +drooping. Another blow and it would be over the side and his ship a +helpless log upon the water. He jammed his helm round therefore, and ran +his ship alongside the Spaniard, throwing out his hooks and iron chains +as he did so. + +They, no less eager, grappled the Philippa both fore and aft, and the +two vessels, linked tightly together, surged slowly over the long blue +rollers. Over their bulwarks hung a cloud of men locked together in +a desperate struggle, sometimes surging forward on to the deck of the +Spaniard, sometimes recoiling back on to the King's ship, reeling this +way and that, with the swords flickering like silver flames above them, +while the long-drawn cry of rage and agony swelled up like a wolf's howl +to the calm blue heaven above them. + +But now ship after ship of the English had come up, each throwing its +iron over the nearest Spaniard and striving to board her high red sides. +Twenty ships were drifting in furious single combat after the manner +of the Philippa, until the whole surface of the sea was covered with +a succession of these desperate duels. The dismasted carack, which +the King's ship had left behind it, had been carried by the Earl of +Suffolk's Christopher, and the water was dotted with the heads of her +crew. An English ship had been sunk by a huge stone discharged from +an engine, and her men also were struggling in the waves, none having +leisure to lend them a hand. A second English ship was caught between +two of the Spanish vessels and overwhelmed by a rush of boarders so that +not a man of her was left alive. On the other hand, Mowbray and Audley +had each taken the caracks which were opposed to them, and the battle in +the center, after swaying this way and that, was turning now in favor of +the Islanders. + +The Black Prince, with the Lion, the Grace Marie and four other ships +had swept round to turn the Spanish flank; but the movement was seen, +and the Spaniards had ten ships with which to meet it, one of them their +great carack the St. Iago di Compostella. To this ship the Prince had +attached his little cog and strove desperately to board her, but her +side was so high and the defense so desperate that his men could never +get beyond her bulwarks but were hurled down again and again with a +clang and clash to the deck beneath. Her side bristled with crossbowmen, +who shot straight down on to the packed waist of the Lion, so that the +dead lay there in heaps. But the most dangerous of all was a swarthy +black-bearded giant in the tops, who crouched so that none could see +him, but rising every now and then with a huge lump of iron between his +hands, hurled it down with such force that nothing would stop it. Again +and again these ponderous bolts crashed through the deck and hurtled +down into the bottom of the ship, starting the planks and shattering all +that came in their way. + +The Prince, clad in that dark armor which gave him his name, was +directing the attack from the poop when the shipman rushed wildly up to +him with fear on his face. + +"Sire!" he cried. "The ship may not stand against these blows. A few +more will sink her! Already the water floods inboard." + +The Prince looked up, and as he did so the shaggy beard showed once more +and two brawny arms swept downward. A great slug, whizzing down, beat +a gaping hole in the deck, and fell rending and riving into the hold +below. The master-mariner tore his grizzled hair. + +"Another leak!" he cried. "I pray to Saint Leonard to bear us up this +day! Twenty of my shipmen are bailing with buckets, but the water rises +on them fast. The vessel may not float another hour." + +The Prince had snatched a crossbow from one of his attendants and +leveled it at the Spaniard's tops. At the very instant when the seaman +stood erect with a fresh bar in his hands, the bolt took him full in +the face, and his body fell forward over the parapet, hanging there +head downward. A howl of exultation burst from the English at the sight, +answered by a wild roar of anger from the Spaniards. A seaman had run +from the Lion's hold and whispered in the ear of the shipman. He turned +an ashen face upon the Prince. + +"It is even as I say, sire. The ship is sinking beneath our feet!" he +cried. + +"The more need that we should gain another," said he. "Sir Henry Stokes, +Sir Thomas Stourton, William, John of Clifton, here lies our road! +Advance my banner, Thomas de Mohun! On, and the day is ours!" + +By a desperate scramble a dozen men, the Prince at their head, gained +a footing on the edge of the Spaniard's deck. Some slashed furiously to +clear a space, others hung over, clutching the rail with one hand and +pulling up their comrades from below. Every instant that they could hold +their own their strength increased, till twenty had become thirty and +thirty forty, when of a sudden the newcomers, still reaching forth to +their comrades below, saw the deck beneath them reel and vanish in a +swirling sheet of foam. The Prince's ship had foundered. + +A yell went up from the Spaniards as they turned furiously upon the +small band who had reached their deck. Already the Prince and his men +had carried the poop, and from that high station they beat back their +swarming enemies. But crossbow darts pelted and thudded among their +ranks till a third of their number were stretched upon the planks. Lined +across the deck they could hardly keep an unbroken front to the leaping, +surging crowd who pressed upon them. Another rush, or another after +that, must assuredly break them, for these dark men of Spain, hardened +by an endless struggle with the Moors, were fierce and stubborn +fighters. But hark to this sudden roar upon the farther side of them-- + +"Saint George! Saint George! A Knolles to the rescue!" A small craft +had run alongside and sixty men had swarmed on the deck of the St. Iago. +Caught between two fires, the Spaniards wavered and broke. The fight +became a massacre. Down from the poop sprang the Prince's men. Up from +the waist rushed the new-corners. There were five dreadful minutes of +blows and screams and prayers with struggling figures clinging to the +bulwarks and sullen splashes into the water below. Then it was over, and +a crowd of weary, overstrained men leaned panting upon their weapons, or +lay breathless and exhausted upon the deck of the captured carack. + +The Prince had pulled up his visor and lowered his beaver. He smiled +proudly as he gazed around him and wiped his streaming face. "Where is +the shipman?" he asked. "Let him lead us against another ship." + +"Nay, sire, the shipman and all his men have sunk in the Lion," said +Thomas de Mohun, a young knight of the West Country, who carried the +standard. "We have lost our ship and the half of our following. I fear +that we can fight no more." + +"It matters the less since the day is already ours," said the Prince, +looking over the sea. "My noble father's royal banner flies upon yonder +Spaniard. Mowbray, Audley, Suffolk, Beauchamp, Namur, Tracey, Stafford, +Arundel, each has his flag over a scarlet carack, even as mine floats +over this. See, yonder squadron is already far beyond our reach. But +surely we owe thanks to you who came at so perilous a moment to our aid. +Your face I have seen, and your coat-armor also, young sir, though I +cannot lay my tongue to your name. Let me know that I may thank you." + +He had turned to Nigel, who stood flushed and joyous at the head of the +boarders from the Basilisk. + +"I am but a Squire, sire, and can claim no thanks, for there is nothing +that I have done. Here is our leader." + +The Prince's eyes fell upon the shield charged with the Black Raven and +the stern young face of him who bore it. "Sir Robert Knolles," said he, +"I had thought you were on your way to Brittany." + +"I was so, sire, when I had the fortune to see this battle as I passed." + +The Prince laughed. "It would indeed be to ask too much, Robert, that +you should keep on your course when much honor was to be gathered so +close to you. But now I pray you that you will come back with us to +Winchelsea, for well I know that my father would fain thank you for what +you have done this day." + +But Robert Knolles shook his head. "I have your father's command, +sire, and without his order I may not go against it. Our people are +hard-pressed in Brittany, and it is not for me to linger on the way. I +pray you, sire, if you must needs mention me to the King, to crave his +pardon that I should have broken my journey thus." + +"You are right, Robert. God-speed you on your way! And I would that I +were sailing under your banner, for I see clearly that you will take +your people where they may worshipfully win worship. Perchance I also +maybe in Brittany before the year is past." + +The Prince turned to the task of gathering his weary people together, +and the Basilisks passed over the side once more and dropped down on to +their own little ship. They poled her off from the captured Spaniard +and set their sail with their prow for the south. Far ahead of them were +their two consorts, beating towards them in the hope of giving help, +while down Channel were a score of Spanish ships with a few of the +English vessels hanging upon their skirts. The sun lay low on the water, +and its level beams glowed upon the scarlet and gold of fourteen great +caracks, each flying the cross of Saint George, and towering high above +the cluster of English ships which, with brave waving of flags and +blaring of music, were moving slowly towards the Kentish coast. + + + + +XVIII. HOW BLACK SIMON CLAIMED FORFEIT FROM THE KING OF SARK + + +For a day and a half the small fleet made good progress, but on the +second morning, after sighting Cape de la Hague, there came a brisk land +wind which blew them out to sea. It grew into a squall with rain and fog +so that they were two more days beating back. Next morning they found +themselves in a dangerous rock studded sea with a small island upon +their starboard quarter. It was girdled with high granite cliffs of +a reddish hue, and slopes of bright green grassland lay above them. A +second smaller island lay beside it. Dennis the shipman shook his head +as he looked. + +"That is Brechou," said he, "and the larger one is the Island of Sark. +If ever I be cast away, I pray the saints that I may not be upon yonder +coast!" + +Knolles gazed across at it. "You say well, master-shipman," said he. "It +does appear to be a rocky and perilous spot." + +"Nay, it is the rocky hearts of those who dwell upon it that I had in +my mind," the old sailor answered. "We are well safe in three goodly +vessels, but had we been here in a small craft I make no doubt that they +would have already had their boats out against us." + +"Who then are these people, and how do they live upon so small and +windswept an island?" asked the soldier. + +"They do not live from the island, fair sir, but from what they can +gather upon the sea around it. They are broken folk from all countries, +justice-fliers, prison-breakers, reavers, escaped bondsmen, murderers +and staff-strikers who have made their way to this outland place and +hold it against all comers. There is one here who could tell you of +them and of their ways, for he was long time prisoner amongst them." +The seaman pointed to Black Simon, the dark man from Norwich, who +was leaning against the side lost in moody thought and staring with a +brooding eye at the distant shore. + +"How now, fellow?" asked Knolles. "What is this I hear? Is it indeed +sooth that you have been a captive upon this island?" + +"It is true, fair sir. For eight months I have been servant to the man +whom they call their King. His name is La Muette, and he comes from +Jersey nor is there under God's sky a man whom I have more desire to +see." + +"Has he then mishandled you?" + +Black Simon gave a wry smile and pulled off his jerkin. His lean sinewy +back was waled and puckered with white scars. "He has left his sign of +hand upon me," said he. "He swore that he would break me to his will, +and thus he tried to do it. But most I desire to see him because he hath +lost a wager to me and I would fain be paid." + +"This is a strange saying," said Knolles. "What is this wager, and why +should he pay you?" + +"It is but a small matter," Simon answered; "but I am a poor man and the +payment would be welcome. Should it have chanced that we stopped at this +island I should have craved your leave that I go ashore and ask for that +which I have fairly won." + +Sir Robert Knolles laughed. "This business tickleth my fancy," said he. +"As to stopping at the island, this shipman tells me that we must needs +wait a day and a night, for that we have strained our planks. But if you +should go ashore, how will you be sure that you will be free to depart, +or that you will see this King of whom you speak?" + +Black Simon's dark face was shining with a fierce joy. "Fair sir, I will +ever be your debtor if you will let me go. Concerning what you ask, I +know this island even as I know the streets of Norwich, as you may well +believe seeing that it is but a small place and I upon it for near a +year. Should I land after dark, I could win my way to the King's house, +and if he be not dead or distraught with drink I could have speech with +him alone, for I know his ways and his hours and how he may be found. I +would ask only that Aylward the archer may go with me, that I may have +one friend at my side if things should chance to go awry." + +Knolles thought awhile. "It is much that you ask," said he, "for by +God's truth I reckon that you and this friend of yours are two of my men +whom I would be least ready to lose. I have seen you both at grips with +the Spaniards and I know you. But I trust you, and if we must indeed +stop at this accursed place, then you may do as you will. If you have +deceived me, or if this is a trick by which you design to leave me, then +God be your friend when next we meet, for man will be of small avail!" + +It proved that not only the seams had to be calked but that the cog +Thomas was out of fresh water. The ships moored therefore near the Isle +of Brechou, where springs were to be found. There were no people upon +this little patch, but over on the farther island many figures could be +seen watching them, and the twinkle of steel from among them showed that +they were armed men. One boat had ventured forth and taken a good look +at them, but had hurried back with the warning that they were too strong +to be touched. + +Black Simon found Aylward seated under the poop with his back, against +Bartholomew the bowyer. He was whistling merrily as he carved a girl's +face upon the horn of his bow. + +"My friend," said Simon, "will you come ashore to-night--for I have need +of your help?" + +Aylward crowed lustily. "Will I come, Simon? By my hilt, I shall be +right glad to put my foot on the good brown earth once more. All my life +I have trod it, and yet I would never have learned its worth had I not +journeyed in these cursed ships. We will go on shore together, Simon, +and we will seek out the women, if there be any there, for it seems a +long year since I heard their gentle voices, and my eyes are weary of +such faces as Bartholomew's or thine." + +Simon's grim features relaxed into a smile. "The only face that you will +see ashore, Samkin, will bring you small comfort," said he, "and I warn +you that this is no easy errand, but one which may be neither sweet nor +fair, for if these people take us our end will be a cruel one." + +"By my hilt," said Aylward, "I am with you, gossip, wherever you may go! +Say no more, therefore, for I am weary of living like a cony in a hole, +and I shall be right glad to stand by you in your venture." + +That night, two hours after dark, a small boat put forth from the +Basilisk. It contained Simon, Aylward and two seamen. The soldiers +carried their swords, and Black Simon bore a brown biscuit-bag over +his shoulder. Under his direction the rowers skirted the dangerous +surf which beat against the cliffs until they came to a spot where an +outlying reef formed a breakwater. Within was a belt of calm water and a +shallow cover with a sloping beach. Here the boat was dragged up and the +seamen were ordered to wait, while Simon and Aylward started on their +errand. + +With the assured air of a man who knows exactly where he is and whither +he is going, the man-at-arms began to clamber up a narrow fern-lined +cleft among the rocks. It was no easy ascent in the darkness, but Simon +climbed on like an old dog hot upon a scent, and the panting Aylward +struggled after as best he might. At last they were at the summit and +the archer threw himself down upon the grass. + +"Nay, Simon, I have not enough breath to blow out a candle," said he. +"Stint your haste for a minute, since we have a long night before us. +Surely this man is a friend indeed, if you hasten so to see him." + +"Such a friend," Simon answered, "that I have often dreamed of our next +meeting. Now before that moon has set it will have come." + +"Had it been a wench I could have understood it," said Aylward. "By +these ten finger-bones, if Mary of the mill or little Kate of Compton +had waited me on the brow of this cliff, I should have come up it and +never known it was there. But surely I see houses and hear voices over +yonder in the shadow?" + +"It is their town," whispered Simon. "There are a hundred as +bloody-minded cutthroats as are to be found in Christendom beneath those +roofs. Hark to that!" + +A fierce burst of laughter came out of the darkness, followed by a long +cry of pain. + +"All-hallows be with us!" cried Aylward. "What is that?" + +"As like as not some poor devil has fallen into their clutches, even as +I did. Come this way, Samkin, for there is a peat-cutting where we may +hide. Aye, here it is, but deeper and broader than of old. Now follow me +close, for if we keep within it we shall find ourselves a stone cast off +the King's house." + +Together they crept along the dark cutting. Suddenly Simon seized +Aylward by the shoulder and pushed him into the shadow of the bank. +Crouching in the darkness, they heard footsteps and voices upon the +farther side of the trench. Two men sauntered along it and stopped +almost at the very spot where the comrades were lying. Aylward could see +their dark figures outlined against the starry sky. + +"Why should you scold, Jacques," said one of them, speaking a strange +half-French, half-English lingo. "Le diable t'emporte for a grumbling +rascal. You won a woman and I got nothing. What more would you have?" + +"You will have your chance off the next ship, mon garcon, but mine is +passed. A woman, it is true--an old peasant out of the fields, with a +face as yellow as a kite's claw. But Gaston, who threw a nine against my +eight, got as fair a little Normandy lass as ever your eyes have seen. +Curse the dice, I say! And as to my woman, I will sell her to you for a +firkin of Gascony." + +"I have no wine to spare, but I will give you a keg of apples," said +the other. "I had it out of the Peter and Paul, the Falmouth boat that +struck in Creux Bay." + +"Well, well your apples may be the worse for keeping, but so is old +Marie, and we can cry quits on that. Come round and drink a cup over the +bargain." + +They shuffled onward in the darkness. + +"Heard you ever such villainy?" cried Aylward, breathing fierce and +hard. "Did you hear them, Simon? A woman for a keg of apples! And my +heart's root is sad for the other one, the girl of Normandy. Surely we +can land to-morrow and burn all these water-rats out of their nest." + +"Nay, Sir Robert will not waste time or strength ere he reach Brittany." + +"Sure I am that if my little master Squire Loring had the handling +of it, every woman on this island would be free ere another day had +passed." + +"I doubt it not," said Simon. "He is one who makes an idol of woman, +after the manner of those crazy knight errants. But Sir Robert is a true +soldier and hath only his purpose in view." + +"Simon," said Aylward, "the light is not overgood and the place is +cramped for sword-play, but if you will step out into the open I will +teach you whether my master is a true soldier or not." + +"Tut, man! you are as foolish yourself," said Simon. "Here we are with +our work in hand, and yet you must needs fall out with me on our way to +it. I say nothing against your master save that he hath the way of his +fellows who follow dreams and fancies. But Knolles looks neither to +right nor left and walks forward to his mark. Now, let us on, for the +time passes." + +"Simon, your words are neither good nor fair. When we are back on +shipboard we will speak further of this matter. Now lead on, I pray you, +and let us see some more of this ten-devil island." + +For half a mile Simon led the way until they came to a large house which +stood by itself. Peering at it from the edge of the cutting, Aylward +could see that it was made from the wreckage of many vessels, for at +each corner a prow was thrust out. Lights blazed within, and there came +the sound of a strong voice singing a gay song which was taken up by a +dozen others in the chorus. + +"All is well, lad!" whispered Simon in great delight. "That is the voice +of the King. It is the very song he used to sing. 'Les deux filles de +Pierre.' 'Fore God, my back tingles at the very sound of it. Here we +will wait until his company take their leave." + +Hour after hour they crouched in the peat-cutting, listening to the +noisy songs of the revelers within, some French, some English, and all +growing fouler and less articulate as the night wore on. Once a +quarrel broke out and the clamor was like a cageful of wild beasts at +feeding-time. Then a health was drunk and there was much stamping and +cheering. + +Only once was the long vigil broken. A woman came forth from the house +and walked up and down, with her face sunk upon her breast. She was tall +and slender, but her features could not be seen for a wimple over her +head. Weary sadness could be read in her bowed back and dragging steps. +Once only they saw her throw her two hands up to Heaven as one who is +beyond human aid. Then she passed slowly into the house again. A moment +later the door of the hall was flung open, and a shouting stumbling +throng came crowding forth, with whoop and yell, into the silent +night. Linking arms and striking up a chorus, they marched past the +peat-cutting, their voices dwindling slowly away as they made for their +homes. + +"Now, Samkin, now!" cried Simon, and jumping out from the hiding-place +he made for the door. It had not yet been fastened. The two comrades +sprang inside. Then Simon drew the bolts so that none might interrupt +them. + +A long table littered with flagons and beakers lay before them. It was +lit up by a line of torches, which flickered and smoked in their iron +sconces. At the farther end a solitary man was seated. His head rested +upon his two hands, as if he were befuddled with wine, but at the harsh +sound of the snapping bolts he raised his face and looked angrily around +him. It was a strange powerful head, tawny and shaggy like a lion's, +with a tangled beard and a large harsh face, bloated and blotched with +vice. He laughed as the newcomers entered, thinking that two of his boon +companions had returned to finish a flagon. Then he stared hard and he +passed his hand over his eyes like one who thinks he may be dreaming. + +"Mon Dieu!" he cried. "Who are you and whence come you at this hour of +the night? Is this the way to break into our royal presence?" + +Simon approached up one side of the table and Aylward up the other. When +they were close to the King, the man-at-arms plucked a torch from its +socket and held it to his own face. The King staggered back with a cry, +as he gazed at that grim visage. + +"Le diable noir!" he cried. "Simon, the Englishman! What make you here?" + +Simon put his hand upon his shoulder. "Sit here!" said he, and he forced +the King into his seat. "Do you sit on the farther side of him, Aylward. +We make a merry group, do we not? Often have I served at this table, +but never did I hope to drink at it. Fill your cup, Samkin, and pass the +flagon." + +The King looked from one to the other with terror in his bloodshot eyes. +"What would you do?" he asked. "Are you mad, that you should come here. +One shout and you are at my mercy." + +"Nay, my friend, I have lived too long in your house not to know the +ways of it. No man-servant ever slept beneath your roof, for you feared +lest your throat would be cut in the night-time. You may shout and +shout, if it so please you. It chanced that I was passing on my way from +England in those ships which lie off La Brechou, and I thought I would +come in and have speech with you." + +"Indeed, Simon, I am right glad to see you," said the King, cringing +away from the fierce eyes of the soldier. "We were good friends in the +past, were we not, and I cannot call to mind that I have ever done you +injury. When you made your way to England by swimming to the Levantine +there was none more glad in heart than I!" + +"If I cared to doff my doublet I could show you the marks of what your +friendship has done for me in the past," said Simon. "It is printed on +my back as clearly as on my memory. Why, you foul dog, there are the +very rings upon the wall to which my hands were fastened, and there the +stains upon the boards on which my blood has dripped! Is it not so, you +king of butchers?" + +The pirate chief turned whiter still. "It may be that life here was +somewhat rough, Simon, but if I have wronged you in anyway, I will +surely make amends. What do you ask?" + +"I ask only one thing, and I have come hither that I may get it. It is +that you pay me forfeit for that you have lost your wager." + +"My wager, Simon! I call to mind no wager." + +"But I will call it to your mind, and then I will take my payment. Often +have you sworn that you would break my courage. 'By my head!' you have +cried to me. 'You will crawl at my feet!' and again: 'I will wager my +head that I will tame you!' Yes, yes, a score of times you have said so. +In my heart, as I listened, I have taken up your gage. And now, dog, you +have lost and I am here to claim the forfeit." + +His long heavy sword flew from its sheath. The King, with a howl of +despair, flung his arms round him, and they rolled together under the +table. Aylward sat with a ghastly face, and his toes curled with horror +at the sight, for he was still new to scenes of strife and his blood was +too cold for such a deed. When Simon rose he tossed something into his +bag and sheathed his bloody sword. + +"Come, Samkin, our work is well done," said he. + +"By my hilt, if I had known what it was I would have been less ready to +come with you," said the archer. "Could you not have clapped a sword in +his fist and let him take his chance in the hall?" + +"Nay, Samkin, if you had such memories as I, you would have wished that +he should die like a sheep and not like a man. What chance did he give +me when he had the power? And why should I treat him better? But, Holy +Virgin, what have we here?" + +At the farther end of the table a woman was standing. An open door +behind her showed that she had come from the inner room of the house. +By her tall figure the comrades knew that she was the same that they had +already seen. Her face had once been fair, but now was white and haggard +with wild dark eyes full of a hopeless terror and despair. Slowly she +paced up the room, her gaze fixed not upon the comrades, but upon the +dreadful thing beneath the table. Then as she stooped and was sure she +burst into loud laughter and clapped her hands. + +"Who shall say there is no God?" she cried. "Who shall say that prayer +is unavailing? Great sir, brave sir, let me kiss that conquering hand!" + +"Nay, nay, dame, stand back! Well, if you must needs have one of them, +take this which is the clean one." + +"It is the other I crave--that which is red with his blood! Oh! joyful +night when my lips have been wet with it! Now I can die in peace!" + +"We must go, Aylward," said Simon. "In another hour the dawn will have +broken. In daytime a rat could not cross this island and pass unseen. +Come, man, and at once!" + +But Aylward was at the woman's side. "Come with us, fair dame," said he. +"Surely we can, at least, take you from this island, and no such change +can be for the worse." + +"Nay," said she, "the saints in Heaven cannot help me now until they +take me to my rest. There is no place for me in the world beyond, and +all my friends were slain on the day I was taken. Leave me, brave men, +and let me care for myself. Already it lightens in the east, and black +will be your fate if you are taken. Go, and may the blessing of one who +was once a holy nun go with you and guard you from danger!" + +Sir Robert Knolles was pacing the deck in the early morning, when he +heard the sound of oars, and there were his two night-birds climbing up +the side. + +"So, fellow," said he, "have you had speech with the King of Sark?" + +"Fair sir, I have seen him." + +"And he has paid his forfeit?" + +"He has paid it, sir!" + +Knolles looked with curiosity at the bag which Simon bore. "What carry +you there?" he asked. + +"The stake that he has lost." + +"What was it then? A goblet? A silver plate?" + +For answer Simon opened his bag and shook it on the deck. + +Sir Robert turned away with a whistle. "'Fore God!" said he, "it is in +my mind that I carry some hard men with me to Brittany." + + + + +XIX. HOW A SQUIRE OF ENGLAND MET A SQUIRE OF FRANCE + + +Sir Robert Knolles with his little fleet had sighted the Breton coast +near Cancale; they had rounded the Point du Grouin, and finally had +sailed past the port of St. Malo and down the long narrow estuary of the +Rance until they were close to the old walled city of Dinan, which was +held by that Montfort faction whose cause the English had espoused. Here +the horses had been disembarked, the stores were unloaded, and the whole +force encamped outside the city, whilst the leaders waited for news as +to the present state of affairs, and where there was most hope of honor +and profit. + +The whole of France was feeling the effects of that war with England +which had already lasted some ten years, but no Province was in so +dreadful a condition as this unhappy land of Brittany. In Normandy or +Picardy the inroads of the English were periodical with intervals of +rest between; but Brittany was torn asunder by constant civil war apart +from the grapple of the two great combatants, so that there was no +surcease of her sufferings. The struggle had begun in 1341 through the +rival claims of Montfort and of Blois to the vacant dukedom. England had +taken the part of Montfort, France that of Blois. Neither faction was +strong enough to destroy the other, and so after ten years of continual +fighting, history recorded a long ineffectual list of surprises and +ambushes, of raids and skirmishes, of towns taken and retaken, of +alternate victory and defeat, in which neither party could claim +a supremacy. It mattered nothing that Montfort and Blois had both +disappeared from the scene, the one dead and the other taken by the +English. Their wives caught up the swords which had dropped from the +hands of their lords, and the long struggle went on even more savagely +than before. + +In the south and east the Blois faction held the country, and Nantes +the capital was garrisoned and occupied by a strong French army. In the +north and west the Montfort party prevailed, for the island kingdom was +at their back and always fresh sails broke the northern sky-line bearing +adventurers from over the channel. + +Between these two there lay a broad zone comprising all the center +of the country which was a land of blood and violence, where no law +prevailed save that of the sword. From end to end it was dotted with +castles, some held for one side, some for the other, and many mere +robber strongholds, the scenes of gross and monstrous deeds, whose brute +owners, knowing that they could never be called to account, made war +upon all mankind, and wrung with rack and with flame the last shilling +from all who fell into their savage hands. The fields had long been +untilled. Commerce was dead. From Rennes in the east to Hennebon in the +west, and from Dinan in the north to Nantes in the south, there was no +spot where a man's life or a woman's honor was safe. Such was the land, +full of darkness and blood, the saddest, blackest spot in Christendom, +into which Knolles and his men were now advancing. + +But there was no sadness in the young heart of Nigel, as he rode by the +side of Knolles at the head of a clump of spears, nor did it seem to him +that Fate had led him into an unduly arduous path. On the contrary, +he blessed the good fortune which had sent him into so delightful a +country, and it seemed to him as he listened to dreadful stories of +robber barons, and looked round at the black scars of war which lay +branded upon the fair faces of the hills, that no hero of romances or +trouveur had ever journeyed through such a land of promise, with so fair +a chance of knightly venture and honorable advancement. + +The Red Ferret was one deed toward his vow. Surely a second, and perhaps +a better, was to be found somewhere upon this glorious countryside. +He had borne himself as the others had in the sea-fight, and could +not count it to his credit where he had done no more than mere duty. +Something beyond this was needed for such a deed as could be laid at the +feet of the Lady Mary. But surely it was to be found here in fermenting +war-distracted Brittany. Then with two done it would be strange if he +could not find occasion for that third one, which would complete his +service and set him free to look her in the face once more. With the +great yellow horse curveting beneath him, his Guildford armor gleaming +in the sun, his sword clanking against his stirrup-iron, and his +father's tough ash-spear in his hand, he rode with a light heart and a +smiling face, looking eagerly to right and to left for any chance which +his good Fate might send. + +The road from Dinan to Caulnes, along which the small army was moving, +rose and dipped over undulating ground, with a bare marshy plain upon +the left where the river Rance ran down to the sea, while upon the right +lay a wooded country with a few wretched villages, so poor and sordid +that they had nothing with which to tempt the spoiler. The peasants had +left them at the first twinkle of a steel cap, and lurked at the edges +of the woods, ready in an instant to dive into those secret recesses +known only to themselves. These creatures suffered sorely at the hands +of both parties, but when the chance came they revenged their wrongs on +either in a savage way which brought fresh brutalities upon their heads. + +The new-comers soon had a chance of seeing to what lengths they would +go, for in the roadway near to Caulnes they came upon an English +man-at-arms who had been waylaid and slain by them. How they had +overcome him could not be told, but how they had slain him within his +armor was horribly apparent, for they had carried such a rock as eight +men could lift, and had dropped it upon him as he lay, so that he was +spread out in his shattered case like a crab beneath a stone. Many a +fist was shaken at the distant woods and many a curse hurled at those +who haunted them, as the column of scowling soldiers passed the murdered +man, whose badge of the Molene cross showed him to have been a follower +of that House of Bentley, whose head, Sir Walter, was at that time +leader of the British forces in the country. + +Sir Robert Knolles had served in Brittany before, and he marshaled his +men on the march with the skill and caution of the veteran soldier, the +man who leaves as little as possible to chance, having too steadfast a +mind to heed the fool who may think him overcautious. He had recruited a +number of bowmen and men-at-arms at Dinan; so that his following was +now close upon five hundred men. In front under his own leadership were +fifty mounted lancers, fully armed and ready for any sudden attack. +Behind them on foot came the archers, and a second body of mounted men +closed up the rear. Out upon either flank moved small bodies of cavalry, +and a dozen scouts, spread fanwise, probed every gorge and dingle in +front of the column. So for three days he moved slowly down the Southern +Road. + +Sir Thomas Percy and Sir James Astley had ridden to the head of the +column, and Knolles conferred with them as they marched concerning the +plan of their campaign. Percy and Astley were young and hot-headed with +wild visions of dashing deeds and knight errantry, but Knolles with +cold, clear brain and purpose of iron held ever his object in view. + +"By the holy Dunstan and all the saints of Lindisfarne!" cried the +fiery Borderer, "it goes to my heart to ride forward when there are such +honorable chances on either side of us. Have I not heard that the French +are at Evran beyond the river, and is it not sooth that yonder castle, +the towers of which I see above the woods, is in the hands of a traitor, +who is false to his liege lord of Montford? There is little profit to be +gained upon this road, for the folk seem to have no heart for war. +Had we ventured as far over the marches of Scotland as we now are in +Brittany, we should not have lacked some honorable venture or chance of +winning worship." + +"You say truth, Thomas," cried Astley, a red-faced and choleric young +man. "It is well certain that the French will not come to us, and surely +it is the more needful that we go to them. In sooth, any soldier who +sees us would smile that we should creep for three days along this road +as though a thousand dangers lay before us, when we have but poor broken +peasants to deal with." + +But Robert Knolles shook his head. "We know not what are in these woods, +or behind these hills," said he, "and when I know nothing it is my wont +to prepare for the worst which may befall. It is but prudence so to do." + +"Your enemies might find some harsher name for it," said Astley with +a sneer. "Nay, you need not think to scare me by glaring at me, Sir +Robert, nor will your ill-pleasure change my thoughts. I have faced +fiercer eyes than thine, and I have not feared." + +"Your speech, Sir James, is neither courteous nor good," said Knolles, +"and if I were a free man I would cram your words down your throat with +the point of my dagger. But I am here to lead these men in profit and +honor, not to quarrel with every fool who has not the wit to understand +how soldiers should be led. Can you not see that if I make attempts here +and there, as you would have me do, I shall have weakened my strength +before I come to that part where it can best be spent?" + +"And where is that?" asked Percy. "'Fore God, Astley, it is in my mind +that we ride with one who knows more of war than you or I, and that we +would be wise to be guided by his rede. Tell us then what is in your +mind." + +"Thirty miles from here," said Knolles, "there is, as I am told, a +fortalice named Ploermel, and within it is one Bambro', an Englishman, +with a good garrison. No great distance from him is the Castle of +Josselin where dwells Robert of Beaumanoir with a great following of +Bretons. It is my intention that we should join Bambro', and so be in +such strength that we may throw ourselves upon Josselin, and by taking +it become the masters of all mid-Brittany, and able to make head against +the Frenchmen in the south." + +"Indeed I think that you can do no better," said Percy heartily, "and +I swear to you on jeopardy of my soul that I will stand by you in the +matter! I doubt not that when we come deep into their land they will +draw together and do what they may to make head against us; but up to +now I swear by all the saints of Lindisfarne that I should have seen +more war in a summer's day in Liddesdale or at the Forest of Jedburgh +than any that Brittany has shown us. But see, yonder horsemen are riding +in. They are our own hobblers, are they not? And who are these who are +lashed to their stirrups?" + +A small troop of mounted bowmen had ridden out of an oak grove upon the +left of the road. They trotted up to where the three knights had halted. +Two wretched peasants whose wrists had been tied to their leathers +came leaping and straining beside the horses in their effort not to be +dragged off their feet. One was a tall, gaunt, yellow-haired man, the +other short and swarthy, but both so crusted with dirt, so matted and +tangled and ragged, that they were more like beasts of the wood than +human beings. + +"What is this?" asked Knolles. "Have I not ordered you to leave the +countryfolk at peace?" + +The leader of the archers, old Wat of Carlisle, held up a sword, a +girdle and a dagger. "If it please you, fair sir," said he, "I saw the +glint of these, and I thought them no fit tools for hands which were +made for the spade and the plow. But when we had ridden them down and +taken them, there was the Bentley cross upon each, and we knew that they +had belonged to yonder dead Englishman upon the road. Surely then, these +are two of the villains who have slain him, and it is right that we do +justice upon them." + +Sure enough, upon sword, girdle and dagger shone the silver Molene cross +which had gleamed on the dead man's armor. Knolles looked at them and +then at the prisoners with a face of stone. At the sight of those +fell eyes they had dropped with inarticulate howls upon their knees, +screaming out their protests in a tongue which none could understand. + +"We must have the roads safe for wandering Englishmen," said Knolles. +"These men must surely die. Hang them to yonder tree." + +He pointed to a live-oak by the roadside, and rode onward upon his way +in converse with his fellow-knights. But the old bowman had ridden after +him. + +"If it please you, Sir Robert, the bowmen would fain put these men to +death in their own fashion," said he. + +"So that they die, I care not how," Knolles answered carelessly, and +looked back no more. + +Human life was cheap in those stern days when the footmen of a stricken +army or the crew of a captured ship were slain without any question or +thought of mercy by the victors. War was a rude game with death for the +stake, and the forfeit was always claimed on the one side and paid on +the other without doubt or hesitation. Only the knight might be spared, +since his ransom made him worth more alive than dead. To men trained in +such a school, with death forever hanging over their own heads, it may +be well believed that the slaying of two peasant murderers was a small +matter. + +And yet there was special reason why upon this occasion the bowmen +wished to keep the deed in their own hands. Ever since their dispute +aboard the Basilisk, there had been ill-feeling betwixt Bartholomew the +old bald-headed bowyer, and long Ned Widdington the Dalesman, which had +ended in a conflict at Dinan, in which not only they, but a dozen of +their friends had been laid upon the cobble-stones. The dispute raged +round their respective knowledge and skill with the bow, and now some +quick wit amongst the soldiers had suggested a grim fashion in which +it should be put to the proof, once for all, which could draw the surer +shaft. + +A thick wood lay two hundred paces from the road upon which the archers +stood. A stretch of smooth grassy sward lay between. The two peasants +were led out fifty yards from the road, with their faces toward the +wood. There they stood, held on a leash, and casting many a wondering +frightened glance over their shoulders at the preparations which were +being made behind them. + +Old Bartholomew and the big Yorkshireman had stepped out of the ranks +and stood side by side each with his strung bow in his left hand and a +single arrow in his right. With care they had drawn on and greased their +shooting-gloves and fastened their bracers. They plucked and cast up a +few blades of grass to measure the wind, examined every small point of +their tackle, turned their sides to the mark, and widened their feet +in a firmer stance. From all sides came chaff and counsel from their +comrades. + +"A three-quarter wind, bowyer!" cried one. "Aim a body's breadth to the +right!" + +"But not thy body's breadth, bowyer," laughed another. "Else may you be +overwide." + +"Nay, this wind will scarce turn a well-drawn shaft," said a third. +"Shoot dead upon him and you will be clap in the clout." + +"Steady, Ned, for the good name of the Dales," cried a Yorkshireman. +"Loose easy and pluck not, or I am five crowns the poorer man." + +"A week's pay on Bartholomew!" shouted another. "Now, old fat-pate, fail +me not!" + +"Enough, enough! Stint your talk!" cried the old bowman, Wat of +Carlisle. "Were your shafts as quick as your tongues there would be no +facing you. Do you shoot upon the little one, Bartholomew, and you, Ned, +upon the other. Give them law until I cry the word, then loose in your +own fashion and at your own time. Are you ready! Hola, there, Hayward, +Beddington, let them run!" + +The leashes were torn away, and the two men, stooping their heads, ran +madly for the shelter of the wood amid such a howl from the archers as +beaters may give when the hare starts from its form. The two bowmen, +each with his arrow drawn to the pile, stood like russet statues, +menacing, motionless, their eager eyes fixed upon the fugitives, their +bow-staves rising slowly as the distance between them lengthened. The +Bretons were half-way to the wood, and still Old Wat was silent. It may +have been mercy or it may have been mischief, but at least the chase +should have a fair chance of life. At six score paces he turned his +grizzled head at last. + +"Loose!" he cried. + +At the word the Yorkshireman's bow-string twanged. It was not for +nothing that he had earned the name of being one of the deadliest +archers of the North and had twice borne away the silver arrow of Selby. +Swift and true flew the fatal shaft and buried itself to the feather in +the curved back of the long yellow-haired peasant. Without a sound he +fell upon his face and lay stone-dead upon the grass, the one short +white plume between his dark shoulders to mark where Death had smote +him. + +The Yorkshireman threw his bowstave into the air and danced in triumph, +whilst his comrades roared their fierce delight in a shout of applause, +which changed suddenly into a tempest of hooting and of laughter. + +The smaller peasant, more cunning, than his comrade, had run more +slowly, but with many a backward glance. He had marked his companion's +fate and had waited with keen eyes until he saw the bowyer loose his +string. At the moment he had thrown himself flat upon the grass and +had heard the arrow scream above him,--and seen it quiver in the turf +beyond. Instantly he had sprung to his feet again and amid wild whoops +and halloos from the bowmen had made for the shelter of the wood. Now he +had reached it, and ten score good paces separated him from the nearest +of his persecutors. Surely they could not reach him here. With the +tangled brushwood behind him he was as safe as a rabbit at the mouth of +his burrow. In the joy of his heart he must needs dance in derision and +snap his fingers at the foolish men who had let him slip. He threw back +his head, howling at them like a dog, and at the instant an arrow struck +him full in the throat and laid him dead among the bracken. There was a +hush of surprised silence and then a loud cheer burst from the archers. + +"By the rood of Beverley!" cried old Wat, "I have not seen a finer +roving shaft this many a year. In my own best day I could not have +bettered it. Which of you loosed it?" + +"It was Aylward of Tilford--Samkin Aylward," cried a score of voices, +and the bowman, flushed at his own fame, was pushed to the front. + +"Indeed I would that it had been at a nobler mark," said he. "He might +have gone free for me, but I could not keep my fingers from the string +when he turned to jeer at us." + +"I see well that you are indeed a master-bowman," said old Wat, "and it +is comfort to my soul to think that if I fall I leave such a man behind +me to hold high the credit of our craft. Now gather your shafts and on, +for Sir Robert awaits us on the brow of the hill." + +All day Knolles and his men marched through the same wild and deserted +country, inhabited only by these furtive creatures, hares to the strong +and wolves to the weak, who hovered in the shadows of the wood. Ever and +anon upon the tops of the hills they caught a glimpse of horsemen who +watched them from a distance and vanished when approached. Sometimes +bells rang an alarm from villages amongst the hills, and twice they +passed castles which drew up their drawbridges at their approach and +lined their walls with hooting soldiers as they passed. The Englishmen +gathered a few oxen and sheep from the pastures of each, but Knolles had +no mind to break his strength upon stone walls, and so he went upon his +way. + +Once at St. Meen they passed a great nunnery, girt with a high gray +lichened wall, an oasis of peace in this desert of war, the black-robed +nuns basking in the sun or working in the gardens, with the strong +gentle hand of Holy Church shielding them ever from evil. The archers +doffed caps to them as they passed, for the boldest and roughest dared +not cross that line guarded by the dire ban and blight which was the one +only force in the whole steel-ridden earth which could stand betwixt the +weakling and the spoiler. + +The little army halted at St. Meen and cooked its midday meal. It had +gathered into its ranks again and was about to start, when Knolles drew +Nigel to one side. + +"Nigel," said he, "it seems to me that I have seldom set eyes upon a +horse which hath more power and promise of speed than this great beast +of thine." + +"It is indeed a noble steed, fair sir," said Nigel. Betwixt him and his +young leader there had sprung up great affection and respect since the +day that they set foot in the Basilisk. + +"It will be the better if you stretch his limbs, for he grows +overheavy," said the knight. "Now mark me, Nigel! Yonder betwixt the +ash-tree and the red rock what do you see on the side of the far hill?" + +"There is a white dot upon it. Surely it is a horse." + +"I have marked it all morning, Nigel. This horseman has kept ever upon +our flank, spying upon us or waiting to make some attempt upon us. Now +I should be right glad to have a prisoner, for it is my wish to know +something of this country-side, and these peasants can speak neither +French nor English. I would have you linger here in hiding when we go +forward. This man will still follow us. When he does so, yonder wood +will lie betwixt you and him. Do you ride round it and come upon him +from behind. There is broad plain upon his left, and we will cut him +off upon the right. If your horse be indeed the swifter, then you cannot +fail to take him." + +Nigel had already sprung down and was tightening Pommers' girth. + +"Nay, there is no need of haste, for you cannot start until we are +two miles upon our way. And above all I pray you, Nigel, none of your +knight-errant ways. It is this roan that I want, him and the news that +he can bring me. Think little of your own advancement and much of the +needs of the army. When you get him, ride westwards upon the sun, and +you cannot fail to find the road." + +Nigel waited with Pommers under the shadow of the nunnery wall, horse +and man chafing with impatience, whilst above them six round-eyed +innocent nun-faces looked down on this strange and disturbing vision +from the outer world. At last the long column wound itself out of sight +round a curve of the road, and the white dot was gone from the bare +green flank of the hill. Nigel bowed his steel head to the nuns, gave +his bridle a shake, and bounded off upon his welcome mission. The +round-eyed sisters saw yellow horse and twinkling man sweep round the +skirt of the wood, caught a last glimmer of him through the tree-trunks, +and paced slowly back to their pruning and their planting, their minds +filled with the beauty and the terror of that outer world beyond the +high gray lichen-mottled wall. + +Everything fell out even as Knolles had planned. As Nigel rounded the +oak forest, there upon the farther side of it, with only good greensward +between, was the rider upon the white horse. Already he was so near that +Nigel could see him clearly, a young cavalier, proud in his bearing, +clad in purple silk tunic with a red curling feather in his low black +cap. He wore no armor, but his sword gleamed at his side. He rode easily +and carelessly, as one who cares for no man, and his eyes were forever +fixed upon the English soldiers on the road. So intent was he upon them +that he gave no thought to his own safety, and it was only when the low +thunder of the great horse's hoofs broke upon his ears that he turned in +his saddle, looked very coolly and steadily at Nigel, then gave his own +bridle a shake and darted off, swift as a hawk, toward the hills upon +the left. + +Pommers had met his match that day. The white horse, two parts Arab, +bore the lighter weight, since Nigel was clad in full armor. For five +miles over the open neither gained a hundred yards upon the other. +They had topped the hill and flew down the farther side, the stranger +continually turning in his saddle to have a look at his pursuer. There +was no panic in his flight, but rather the amused rivalry with which +a good horseman who is proud of his mount contends with one who has +challenged him. Below the hill was a marshy plain, studded with great +Druidic stones, some prostrate, some erect, some bearing others across +their tops like the huge doors of some vanished building. A path ran +through the marsh with green rushes as a danger signal on either side of +it. Across this path many of the huge stones were lying, but the white +horse cleared them in its stride and Pommers followed close upon his +heels. Then came a mile of soft ground where the lighter weight again +drew to the front, but it ended in a dry upland and once again Nigel +gained. A sunken road crossed it, but the white cleared it with a mighty +spring, and again the yellow followed. Two small hills lay before them +with a narrow gorge of deep bushes between. Nigel saw the white horse +bounding chest-deep amid the underwood. + +Next instant its hind legs were high in the air, and the rider had been +shot from its back. A howl of triumph rose from amidst the bushes, and +a dozen wild figures armed with club and with spear, rushed upon the +prostrate man. + +"A moi, Anglais, a moi!" cried a voice, and Nigel saw the young rider +stagger to his feet, strike round him with his sword, and then fall once +more before the rush of his assailants. + +There was a comradeship among men of gentle blood and bearing which +banded them together against all ruffianly or unchivalrous attack. These +rude fellows were no soldiers. Their dress and arms, their uncouth cries +and wild assault, marked them as banditti--such men as had slain the +Englishman upon the road. Waiting in narrow gorges with a hidden rope +across the path, they watched for the lonely horseman as a fowler waits +by his bird-trap, trusting that they could overthrow the steed and then +slay the rider ere he had recovered from his fall. + +Such would have been the fate of the stranger, as of so many cavaliers +before him, had Nigel not chanced to be close upon his heels. In an +instant Pommers had burst through the group who struck at the prostrate +man, and in another two of the robbers had fallen before Nigel's sword. +A spear rang on his breastplate, but one blow shore off its head, and +a second that of him who held it. In vain they thrust at the steel-girt +man. His sword played round them like lightning, and the fierce horse +ramped and swooped above them with pawing iron-shod hoofs and eyes of +fire. With cries and shrieks they flew off to right and left amidst +the bushes, springing over boulders and darting under branches where +no horseman could follow them. The foul crew had gone as swiftly and +suddenly as it had come, and save for four ragged figures littered +amongst the trampled bushes, no sign remaining of their passing. + +Nigel tethered Pommers to a thorn-bush and then turned his attention +to the injured man. The white horse had regained his feet and stood +whinnying gently as he looked down on his prostrate master. A heavy +blow, half broken by his sword, had beaten him down and left a great raw +bruise upon his forehead. But a stream gurgled through the gorge, and +a capful of water dashed over his face brought the senses back to the +injured man. He was a mere stripling, with the delicate features of a +woman, and a pair of great violet-blue eyes which looked up presently +with a puzzled stare into Nigel's face. + +"Who are you?" he asked. "Ah yes! I call you to mind. You are the young +Englishman who chased me on the great yellow horse. By our Lady of +Rocamadour whose vernicle is round my neck! I could not have believed +that any horse could have kept at the heels of Charlemagne so long. But +I will wager you a hundred crowns, Englishman, that I lead you over a +five-mile course." + +"Nay," said Nigel, "we will wait till you can back a horse ere we talk +of racing it. I am Nigel of Tilford, of the family of Loring, a squire +by rank and the son of a knight. How are you called, young sir?" + +"I also am a squire by rank and the son of a knight. I am Raoul de la +Roche Pierre de Bras, whose father writes himself Lord of Grosbois, a +free vavasor of the noble Count of Toulouse, with the right of fossa +and of furca, the high justice, the middle and the low." He sat up and +rubbed his eyes. "Englishman, you have saved my life as I would have +saved yours, had I seen such yelping dogs set upon a man of blood and of +coat-armor. But now I am yours, and what is your sweet will?" + +"When you are fit to ride, you will come back with me to my people." + +"Alas! I feared that you would say so. Had I taken you, Nigel--that is +your name, is it not?--had I taken you, I would not have acted thus." + +"How then would you have ordered things?" asked Nigel, much taken with +the frank and debonair manner of his captive. + +"I would not have taken advantage of such a mischance as has befallen me +which has put me in your power. I would give you a sword and beat you +in fair fight, so that I might send you to give greeting to my dear lady +and show her the deeds which I do for her fair sake." + +"Indeed, your words are both good and fair," said Nigel. "By Saint +Paul! I cannot call to mind that I have ever met a man who bore himself +better. But since I am in my armor and you without, I see not how we can +debate the matter." + +"Surely, gentle Nigel, you could doff your armor." + +"Then have I only my underclothes." + +"Nay, there shall be no unfairness there, for I also will very gladly +strip to my underclothes." + +Nigel looked wistfully at the Frenchman; but he shook his head. "Alas! +it may not be," said he. "The last words that Sir Robert said to me were +that I was to bring you to his side, for he would have speech with you. +Would that I could do what you ask, for I also have a fair lady to +whom I would fain send you. What use are you to me, Raoul, since I have +gained no honor in the taking of you? How is it with you now?" + +The young Frenchman had risen to his feet. "Do not take my sword," he +said. "I am yours, rescue or no rescue. I think now that I could mount +my horse, though indeed my head still rings like a cracked bell." + +Nigel had lost all traces of his comrades; but he remembered Sir +Robert's words that he should ride upon the sun with the certainty that +sooner or later he would strike upon the road. As they jogged slowly +along over undulating hills, the Frenchman shook off his hurt and the +two chatted merrily together. + +"I had but just come from France," said he, "and I had hoped to win +honor in this country, for I have ever heard that the English are very +hardy men and excellent people to fight with. My mules and my baggage +are at Evran; but I rode forth to see what I could see, and I chanced +upon your army moving down the road, so I coasted it in the hopes of +some profit or adventure. Then you came after me and I would have given +all the gold goblets upon my father's table if I had my harness so that +I could have turned upon you. I have promised the Countess Beatrice that +I will send her an Englishman or two to kiss her hands." + +"One might perchance have a worse fate," said Nigel. "Is this fair dame +your betrothed?" + +"She is my love," answered the Frenchman. "We are but waiting for the +Count to be slain in the wars, and then we mean to marry. And this lady +of thine, Nigel? I would that I could see her." + +"Perchance you shall, fair sir," said Nigel, "for all that I have seen +of you fills me with desire to go further with you. It is in my mind +that we might turn this thing to profit and to honor, for when Sir +Robert has spoken with you, I am free to do with you as I will." + +"And what will you do, Nigel?" + +"We shall surely try some small deed upon each other, so that either I +shall see the Lady Beatrice, or you the Lady Mary. Nay, thank me not, +for like yourself, I have come to this country in search of honor, and I +know not where I may better find it than at the end of your sword-point. +My good lord and master, Sir John Chandos, has told me many times that +never yet did he meet French knight nor squire that he did not find +great pleasure and profit from their company, and now I very clearly see +that he has spoken the truth." + +For an hour these two friends rode together, the Frenchman pouring forth +the praises of his lady, whose glove he produced from one pocket, her +garter from his vest, and her shoe from his saddle-bag. She was blond, +and when he heard that Mary was dark, he would fain stop then and there +to fight the question of color. He talked too of his great chateau at +Lauta, by the head waters of the pleasant Garonne; of the hundred horses +in the stables, the seventy hounds in the kennels, the fifty hawks in +the mews. His English friend should come there when the wars were +over, and what golden days would be theirs! Nigel too, with his English +coldness thawing before this young sunbeam of the South, found himself +talking of the heather slopes of Surrey, of the forest of Woolmer, even +of the sacred chambers of Cosford. + +But as they rode onward towards the sinking sun, their thoughts far away +in their distant homes, their horses striding together, there came that +which brought their minds back in an instant to the perilous hillsides +of Brittany. + +It was the long blast of a trumpet blown from somewhere on the farther +side of a ridge toward which they were riding. A second long-drawn note +from a distance answered it. + +"It is your camp," said the Frenchman. + +"Nay," said Nigel; "we have pipes with us and a naker or two, but I have +heard no trumpet-call from our ranks. It behooves us to take heed, for +we know not what may be before us. Ride this way, I pray you, that we +may look over and yet be ourselves unseen." + +Some scattered boulders crowned the height, and from behind them the two +young Squires could see the long rocky valley beyond. Upon a knoll was a +small square building with a battlement round it. Some distance from it +towered a great dark castle, as massive as the rocks on which it stood, +with one strong keep at the corner, and four long lines of machicolated +walls. Above, a great banner flew proudly in the wind, with some device +which glowed red in the setting sun. Nigel shaded his eyes and stared +with wrinkled brow. + +"It is not the arms of England, nor yet the lilies of France, nor is it +the ermine of Brittany," said he. "He who holds this castle fights for +his own hand, since his own device flies above it. Surely it is a head +gules on an argent field." + +"The bloody head on a silver tray!" cried the Frenchman. "Was I not +warned against him? This is not a man, friend Nigel. It is a monster who +wars upon English, French and all Christendom. Have you not heard of the +Butcher of La Brohiniere?" + +"Nay, I have not heard of him." + +"His name is accursed in France. Have I not been told also that he +put to death this very year Gilles de St. Pol, a friend of the English +King?" + +"Yes, in very truth it comes back to my mind now that I heard something +of this matter in Calais before we started." + +"Then there he dwells, and God guard you if ever you pass under yonder +portal, for no prisoner has ever come forth alive! Since these wars +began he hath been a king to himself, and the plunder of eleven years +lies in yonder cellars. How can justice come to him, when no man knows +who owns the land? But when we have packed you all back to your island, +by the Blessed Mother of God, we have a heavy debt to pay to the man who +dwells in yonder pile!" + +But even as they watched, the trumpet-call burst forth once more. It +came not from the castle but from the farther end of the valley. It was +answered by a second call from the walls. Then in a long, straggling +line there came a wild troop of marauders streaming homeward from some +foray. In the van, at the head of a body of spearmen, rode a tall and +burly man, clad in brazen armor, so that he shone like a golden image +in the slanting rays of the sun. His helmet had been loosened from his +gorget and was held before him on his horse's neck. A great tangled +beard flowed over his breastplate, and his hair hung down as far behind. +A squire at his elbow bore high the banner of the bleeding head. Behind +the spearmen were a line of heavily laden mules, and on either side +of them a drove of poor country folk, who were being herded into the +castle. Lastly came a second strong troop of mounted spearmen, who +conducted a score or more of prisoners who marched together in a solid +body. + +Nigel stared at them and then, springing on his horse, he urged it along +the shelter of the ridge so as to reach unseen a spot which was close +to the castle gate. He had scarce taken up his new position when the +cavalcade reached the drawbridge, and amid yells of welcome from those +upon the wall, filed in a thin line across it. Nigel stared hard once +more at the prisoners in the rear, and so absorbed was he by the sight +that he had passed the rocks and was standing sheer upon the summit. + +"By Saint Paul!" he cried, "it must indeed be so. I see their russet +jackets. They are English archers!" + +As he spoke, the hindmost one, a strongly built, broad-shouldered man, +looked round and saw the gleaming figure above him upon the hill, with +open helmet, and the five roses glowing upon his breast. With a sweep of +his hands he had thrust his guardians aside and for a moment was clear +of the throng. + +"Squire Loring! Squire Loring!" he cried. "It is I, Aylward the archer! +It is I, Samkin Aylward!" The next minute a dozen hands had seized him, +his cries were muffled with a gag, and he was hurled, the last of the +band, through the black and threatening archway of the gate. Then with a +clang the two iron wings came together, the portcullis swung upward, and +captives and captors, robbers and booty, were all swallowed up within +the grim and silent fortress. + + + + +XX. HOW THE ENGLISH ATTEMPTED THE CASTLE OF LA BROHINIERE + + +For some minutes Nigel remained motionless upon the crest of the hill, +his heart, like lead within him, and his eyes fixed upon the huge +gray walls which contained his unhappy henchman. He was roused by a +sympathetic hand upon his shoulder and the voice of his young prisoner +in his ear. + +"Peste!" said he. "They have some of your birds in their cage, have they +not? What then, my friend? Keep your heart high! Is it not the chance +of war, to-day to them, to-morrow to thee, and death at last for us all? +And yet I had rather they were in any hands than those of Oliver the +Butcher." + +"By Saint Paul, we cannot suffer it!" cried Nigel distractedly. "This +man has come with me from my own home. He has stood between me and death +before now. It goes to my very heart that he should call upon me in +vain. I pray you, Raoul, to use your wits, for mine are all curdled in +my head. Tell me what I should do and how I may bring him help." + +The Frenchman shrugged his shoulders. "As easy to get a lamb unscathed +out of a wolves' lair as a prisoner safe from La Brohiniere. Nay, Nigel, +whither do you go? Have you indeed taken leave of your wits?" + +The Squire had spurred his horse down the hillside and never halted +until he was within a bowshot of the gate. The French prisoner followed +hard behind him, with a buzz of reproaches and expostulations. + +"You are mad, Nigel!" he cried. "What do you hope to do then? Would you +carry the castle with your own hands? Halt, man, halt, in the name of +the Virgin!" + +But Nigel had no plan in his head and only obeyed the fevered impulse +to do something to ease his thoughts. He paced his horse up and down, +waving his spear, and shouting insults and challenges to the garrison. +Over the high wall a hundred jeering faces looked down upon him. So +rash and wild was his action that it seemed to those within to mean some +trap, so the drawbridge was still held high and none ventured forth to +seize him. A few long-range arrows pattered on the rocks, and then with +a deep booming sound a huge stone, hurled from a mangonel, sang over the +head of the two Squires and crushed into splinters amongst the boulders +behind them. The Frenchman seized Nigel's bridle and forced him farther +from the gateway. + +"By the dear Virgin!" he cried, "I care not to have those pebbles about +my ears, yet I cannot go back alone, so it is very clear, my crazy +comrade, that you must come also. Now we are beyond their reach! But +see, my friend Nigel, who are those who crown the height?" + +The sun had sunk behind the western ridge, but the glowing sky was +fringed at its lower edge by a score of ruddy twinkling points. A body +of horsemen showed hard and black upon the bare hill. Then they dipped +down the slope into the valley, whilst a band of footmen followed +behind. + +"They are my people," cried Nigel joyously. "Come, my friend, hasten, +that we may take counsel what we shall do." + +Sir Robert Knolles rode a bowshot in front of his men, and his brow +was as black as night. Beside him, with crestfallen face, his horse +bleeding, his armor dinted and soiled, was the hot-headed knight, Sir +James Astley. A fierce discussion raged between them. + +"I have done my devoir as best I might," said Astley. "Alone I had ten +of them at my sword-point. I know not how I have lived to tell it." + +"What is your devoir to me? Where are my thirty bowmen?" cried Knolles +in bitter wrath. "Ten lie dead upon the ground and twenty are worse than +dead in yonder castle. And all because you must needs show all men how +bold you are, and ride into a bushment such as a child could see. Alas +for my own folly that ever I should have trusted such a one as you with +the handling of men!" + +"By God, Sir Robert, you shall answer to me for those words!" cried +Astley with a choking voice. "Never has a man dared to speak to me as +you have done this day." + +"As long as I hold the King's order I shall be master, and by the Lord I +will hang you, James, on a near tree if I have further cause of offense! +How now, Nigel? I see by yonder white horse that you at least have not +failed me. I will speak with you anon. Percy, bring up your men, and let +us gather round this castle, for, as I hope for my soul's salvation, I +win not leave it until I have my archers, or the head of him who holds +them." + +That night the English lay thick round the fortress of La Brohiniere so +that none might come forth from it. But if none could come forth it was +hard to see how any could win their way in, for it was full of men, the +walls were high and strong, and a deep dry ditch girt it round. But the +hatred and fear which its master had raised over the whole country-side +could now be plainly seen, for during the night the brushwood men and +the villagers came in from all parts with offers of such help as they +could give for the intaking of the castle. Knolles set them cutting +bushes and tying them into fagots. When morning came he rode out before +the wall and he held counsel with his knights and squires as to how he +should enter in. + +"By noon," said he, "we shall have so many fagots that we may make +our way over the ditch. Then we will beat in the gates and so win a +footing." + +The young Frenchman had come with Nigel to the conference, and now, amid +the silence which followed the leader's proposal, he asked if he might +be heard. He was clad in the brazen armor which Nigel had taken from the +Red Ferret. + +"It may be that it is not for me to join in your counsel," said he, +"seeing that I am a prisoner and a Frenchman. But this man is the enemy +of all, and we of France owe him a debt even as you do, since many a +good Frenchman has died in his cellars. For this reason I crave to be +heard." + +"We will hear you," said Knolles. + +"I have come from Evran yesterday," said he. "Sir Henry Spinnefort, Sir +Peter La Roye and many other brave knights and squires lie there, with +a good company of men, all of whom would very gladly join with you to +destroy this butcher and his castle, for it is well known amongst us +that his deeds are neither good nor fair. There are also bombards which +we could drag over the hills, and so beat down this iron gate. If you so +order it I will ride to Evran and bring my companions back with me." + +"Indeed, Robert," said Percy, "it is in my mind that this Frenchman +speaks very wisely and well." + +"And when we have taken the castle--what then?" asked Knolles. + +"Then you could go upon your way, fair sir, and we upon ours. Or if it +please you better you could draw together on yonder hill and we on this +one, so that the valley lies between us. Then if any cavalier wished to +advance himself or to shed a vow and exalt his lady, an opening might +be found for him. Surely it would be shame if so many brave men drew +together and no small deed were to come of it." + +Nigel clasped his captive's hand to show his admiration and esteem, but +Knolles shook his head. + +"Things are not ordered thus, save in the tales of the minstrels," said +he. "I have no wish that your people at Evran should know our numbers or +our plans. I am not in this land for knight errantry, but I am here to +make head against the King's enemies. Has no one aught else to say?" + +Percy pointed to the small outlying fortalice upon the knoll, on which +also flew the flag of the bloody head. "This smaller castle, Robert, is +of no great strength and cannot hold more than fifty men. It is built, +as I conceive it, that no one should seize the high ground and shoot +down into the other. Why should we not turn all our strength upon it, +since it is the weaker of the twain?" + +But again the young leader shook his head. "If I should take it," said +he, "I am still no nearer to my desire, nor will it avail me in getting +back my bowmen. It may cost a score of men, and what profit shall I have +from it? Had I bombards, I might place them on yonder hill, but having +none it is of little use to me." + +"It may be," said Nigel, "that they have scant food or water, and so +must come forth to fight us." + +"I have made inquiry of the peasants," Knolles answered, "and they are +of one mind that there is a well within the castle, and good store of +food. Nay, gentlemen, there is no way before us save to take it by arms, +and no spot where we can attempt it save through the great gate. Soon we +will have so many fagots that we can cast them down into the ditch, and +so win our way across. I have ordered them to cut a pine-tree on the +hill and shear the branches so that we may beat down the gate with it. +But what is now amiss, and why do they run forward to the castle?" + +A buzz had risen from the soldiers in the camp, and they all crowded in +one direction, rushing toward the castle wall. The knights and squires +rode after them, and when in view of the main gate, the cause of the +disturbance lay before them. On the tower above the portal three men +were standing in the garb of English archers, ropes round their necks +and their hands bound behind them. Their comrades surged below them with +cries of recognition and of pity. + +"It is Ambrose!" cried one. "Surely it is Ambrose of Ingleton." + +"Yes, in truth, I see his yellow hair. And the other, him with the +beard, it is Lockwood of Skipton. Alas for his wife who keeps the booth +by the bridge-head of Ribble! I wot not who the third may be." + +"It is little Johnny Alspaye, the youngest man in the company," cried +old Wat, with the tears running down his cheeks, "'Twas I who brought +him from his home. Alas! Alas! Foul fare the day that ever I coaxed him +from his mother's side that he might perish in a far land." + +There was a sudden flourish of a trumpet and the drawbridge fell. Across +it strode a portly man with a faded herald's coat. He halted warily upon +the farther side and his voice boomed like a drum. "I would speak with +your leader." he cried. + +Knolles rode forward. + +"Have I your knightly word that I may advance unscathed with all +courteous entreaty as befits a herald?" + +Knolles nodded his head. + +The man came slowly and pompously forward. "I am the messenger and liege +servant," said he, "of the high baron, Oliver de St. Yvon, Lord of La +Brohiniere. He bids me to say that if you continue your journey and +molest him no further he will engage upon his part to make no further +attack upon you. As to the men whom he holds, he will enroll them in his +own honorable service, for he has need of longbowmen, and has heard +much of their skill. But if you constrain him or cause him further +displeasure by remaining before his castle he hereby gives you warning +that he will hang these three men over his gateway and every morning +another three until all have been slain. This he has sworn upon the rood +of Calvary, and as he has said so he will do upon jeopardy of his soul." + +Robert Knolles looked grimly at the messenger. "You may thank the saints +that you have had my promise," said he, "else would I have stripped that +lying tabard from thy back and the skin beneath it from thy bones, that +thy master might have a fitting answer to his message. Tell him that I +hold him and all that are within his castle as hostage for the lives of +my men, and that should he dare to do them scathe he and every man that +is with him shall hang upon his battlements. Go, and go quickly, lest my +patience fail." + +There was that in Knolles' cold gray eyes and in his manner of speaking +those last words which sent the portly envoy back at a quicker gait +than he had come. As he vanished into the gloomy arch of the gateway the +drawbridge swung up with creak and rattle behind him. + +A few minutes later a rough-bearded fellow stepped out over the portal +where the condemned archers stood and seizing the first by the shoulders +he thrust him over the wall. A cry burst from the man's lips and a deep +groan from those of his comrades below as he fell with a jerk which +sent him half-way up to the parapet again, and then after dancing like +a child's toy swung slowly backward and forward with limp limbs and +twisted neck. + +The hangman turned and bowed in mock reverence to the spectators beneath +him. He had not yet learned in a land of puny archers how sure and how +strong is the English bow. Half a dozen men, old Wat amongst them, had +run forward toward the wall. They were too late to save their comrades, +but at least their deaths were speedily avenged. + +The man was in the act of pushing off the second prisoner when an arrow +crashed through his head, and he fell stone dead upon the parapet. But +even in falling he had given the fatal thrust and a second russet figure +swung beside the first against the dark background of the castle wall. + +There only remained the young lad, Johnny Alspaye, who stood shaking +with fear, an abyss below him, and the voices of those who would hurl +him over it behind. There was a long pause before anyone would come +forth to dare those deadly arrows. Then a fellow, crouching double, ran +forward from the shelter, keeping the young archer's body as a shield +between him and danger. + +"Aside, John! Aside!" cried his comrades from below. + +The youth sprang as far as the rope would allow him, and slipped it half +over his face in the effort. Three arrows flashed past his side, and +two of them buried themselves in the body of the man behind. A howl of +delight burst from the spectators as he dropped first upon his knees and +then upon his face. A life for a life was no bad bargain. + +But it was only a short respite which the skill of his comrades had +given to the young archer. Over the parapet there appeared a ball of +brass, then a pair of great brazen shoulders, and lastly the full figure +of an armored man. He walked to the edge and they heard his hoarse +guffaw of laughter as the arrows clanged and clattered against his +impenetrable mail. He slapped his breast-plate, as he jeered at them. +Well he knew that at the distance no dart ever sped by mortal hands +could cleave through his plates of metal. So he stood, the great burly +Butcher of La Brohiniere, with head uptossed, laughing insolently at +his foes. Then with slow and ponderous tread he walked toward his boy +victim, seized him by the ear, and dragged him across so that the rope +might be straight. Seeing that the noose had slipped across the face, +he tried to push it down, but the mail glove hampering him he pulled it +off, and grasped the rope above the lad's head with his naked hand. + +Quick as a flash old Wat's arrow had sped, and the Butcher sprang back +with a howl of pain, his hand skewered by a cloth-yard shaft. As he +shook it furiously at his enemies a second grazed his knuckles. With +a brutal kick of his metal-shod feet he hurled young Alspaye over the +edge, looked down for a few moments at his death agonies, and then +walked slowly from the parapet, nursing his dripping hand, the arrows +still ringing loudly upon his back-piece as he went. + +The archers below, enraged at the death of their comrades, leaped and +howled like a pack of ravening wolves. + +"By Saint Dunstan," said Percy, looking round at their flushed faces, +"if ever we are to carry it now is the moment, for these men will not be +stopped if hate can take them forward." + +"You are right, Thomas!" cried Knolles. "Gather together twenty +men-at-arms each with his shield to cover him. Astley, do you place the +bowmen so that no head may show at window or parapet. Nigel, I pray you +to order the countryfolk forward with their fardels of fagots. Let the +others bring up the lopped pine-tree which lies yonder behind the horse +lines. Ten men-at-arms can bear it on the right, and ten on the left, +having shields over their heads. The gate once down, let every man rush +in. And God help the better cause!" + +Swiftly and yet quietly the dispositions were made, for these were old +soldiers whose daily trade was war. In little groups the archers formed +in front of each slit or crevice in the walls, whilst others scanned +the battlements with wary eyes, and sped an arrow at every face which +gleamed for an instant above them. The garrison shot forth a shower of +crossbow bolts and an occasional stone from their engine, but so deadly +was the hail which rained upon them that they had no time to dwell upon +their aim, and their discharges were wild and harmless. Under cover of +the shafts of the bowmen a line of peasants ran unscathed to the edge +of the ditch, each hurling in the bundle which he bore in his arms, and +then hurrying back for another one. In twenty minutes a broad pathway +of fagots lay level with the ground upon one side and the gate upon +the other. With the loss of two peasants slain by bolts and one archer +crushed by a stone, the ditch had been filled up. All was ready for the +battering-ram. + +With a shout, twenty picked men rushed forward with the pine-tree under +their arms, the heavy end turned toward the gate. The arbalesters on the +tower leaned over and shot into the midst of them, but could not stop +their advance. Two dropped, but the others raising their shields ran +onward still shouting, crossed the bridge of fagots, and came with a +thundering crash against the door. It splintered from base to arch, but +kept its place. + +Swinging their mighty weapon, the storming party thudded and crashed +upon the gate, every blow loosening and widening the cracks which rent +it from end to end. The three knights, with Nigel, the Frenchman Raoul +and the other squires, stood beside the ram, cheering on the men, and +chanting to the rhythm of the swing with a loud "Ha!" at every blow. A +great stone loosened from the parapet roared through the air and +struck Sir James Astley and another of the attackers, but Nigel and the +Frenchman had taken their places in an instant, and the ram thudded and +smashed with greater energy than ever. Another blow and another! the +lower part was staving inward, but the great central bar still held +firm. Surely another minute would beat it from its sockets. + +But suddenly from above there came a great deluge of liquid. A hogshead +of it had been tilted from the battlement until soldiers, bridge, and +ram were equally drenched in yellow slime. Knolles rubbed his gauntlet +in it, held it to his visor, and smelled it. + +"Back, back!" he cried. "Back before it is too late!" + +There was a small barred window above their heads at the side of the +gate. A ruddy glare shone through it, and then a blazing torch was +tossed down upon them. In a moment the oil had caught and the whole +place was a sheet of flame. The fir-tree that they carried, the fagots +beneath them, their very weapons, were all in a blaze. + +To right and left the men sprang down into the dry ditch, rolling with +screams upon the ground in their endeavor to extinguish the flames. The +knights and squires protected by their armor strove hard, stamping +and slapping, to help those who had but leather jacks to shield their +bodies. From above a ceaseless shower of darts and of stones were +poured down upon them, while on the other hand the archers, seeing the +greatness of the danger, ran up to the edge of the ditch, and shot fast +and true at every face which showed above the wall. + +Scorched, wearied and bedraggled, the remains of the storming party +clambered out of the ditch as best they could, clutching at the friendly +hands held down to them, and so limped their way back amid the taunts +and howls of their enemies. A long pile of smoldering cinders was +all that remained of their bridge, and on it lay Astley and six other +red-hot men glowing in their armor. + +Knolles clinched his hands as he looked back at the ruin that was +wrought, and then surveyed the group of men who stood or lay around him +nursing their burned limbs and scowling up at the exultant figures who +waved on the castle wall. Badly scorched himself, the young leader had +no thought for his own injuries in the rage and grief which racked +his soul. "We will build another bridge," he cried. "Set the peasants +binding fagots once more." + +But a thought had flashed through Nigel's mind. "See, fair sir," said +he. "The nails of yonder door are red-hot and the wood as white as +ashes. Surely we can break our way through it." + +"By the Virgin, you speak truly!" cried the French Squire. "If we can +cross the ditch the gate will not stop us. Come, Nigel, for our fair +ladies' sakes, I will race you who will reach it first, England or +France." + +Alas for all the wise words of the good Chandos! Alas for all the +lessons in order and discipline learned from the wary Knolles. In an +instant, forgetful of all things but this noble challenge, Nigel was +running at the top of his speed for the burning gate. Close at his heels +was the Frenchman, blowing and gasping, as he rushed along in his brazen +armor. Behind came a stream of howling archers and men-at-arms, like a +flood which has broken its dam. Down they slipped into the ditch, rushed +across it, and clambered on each other's backs up the opposite side. +Nigel, Raoul and two archers gained a foothold in front of the burning +gate at the same moment. With blows and kicks they burst it to pieces, +and dashed with a yell of triumph through the dark archway beyond. For a +moment they thought with mad rapture that the castle was carried. A dark +tunnel lay before them, down which they rushed. But alas! at the farther +end it was blocked by a second gateway as strong as that which had been +burned. In vain they beat upon it with their swords and axes. On +each side the tunnel was pierced with slits, and the crossbow bolts +discharged at only a few yards' distance crashed through armor as if it +were cloth and laid man after man upon the stones. They raged and leaped +before the great iron-clamped barrier, but the wall itself was as easy +to tear down. + +It was bitter to draw back; but it was madness to remain. Nigel looked +round and saw that half his men were down. At the same moment Raoul sank +with a gasp at his feet, a bolt driven to its socket through the links +of the camail which guarded his neck. Some of the archers, seeing that +certain death awaited them, were already running back to escape from the +fatal passage. + +"By Saint Paul!" cried Nigel hotly. "Would you leave our wounded where +this butcher may lay his hands upon them? Let the archers shoot inwards +and hold them back from the slits. Now let each man raise one of our +comrades, lest we leave our honor in the gate of this castle." + +With a mighty effort he had raised Raoul upon his shoulders and +staggered with him to the edge of the ditch. Several men were waiting +below where the steep bank shield them from the arrows, and to them +Nigel handed down his wounded friend, and each archer in turn did the +same. Again and again Nigel went back until no one lay in the tunnel +save seven who had died there. Thirteen wounded were laid in the shelter +of the ditch, and there they must remain until night came to cover them. +Meanwhile the bowmen on the farther side protected them from attack, and +also prevented the enemy from all attempts to build up the outer gate. +The gaping smoke-blackened arch was all that they could show for a loss +of thirty men, but that at least Knolles was determined to keep. + +Burned and bruised, but unconscious of either pain or fatigue for the +turmoil of his spirit within him, Nigel knelt by the Frenchman and +loosened his helmet. The girlish face of the young Squire was white as +chalk, and the haze of death was gathering over his violet eyes, but +a faint smile played round his lips as he looked up at his English +comrade. + +"I shall never see Beatrice again," he whispered. "I pray you, Nigel, +that when there is a truce you will journey as far as my father's +chateau and tell him how his son died. Young Gaston will rejoice, for +to him come the land and the coat, the war-cry and the profit. See them, +Nigel, and tell them that I was as forward as the others." + +"Indeed Raoul, no man could have carried himself with more honor or won +more worship than you have done this day. I will do your behest when the +time comes." + +"Surely you are happy, Nigel," the dying Squire murmured, "for this +day has given you one more deed which you may lay at the feet of your +lady-love." + +"It might have been so had we carried the gate," Nigel answered sadly; +"but by Saint Paul! I cannot count it a deed where I have come back with +my purpose unfulfilled. But this is no time, Raoul, to talk of my +small affairs. If we take the castle and I bear a good part in it, then +perchance all this may indeed avail." + +The Frenchman sat up with that strange energy which comes often as the +harbinger of death. "You will win your Lady Mary, Nigel, and your great +deeds will be not three but a score, so that in all Christendom there +shall be no man of blood and coat-armor who has not heard your name and +your fame. This I tell you--I, Raoul de la Roche Pierre de Bras, dying +upon the field of honor. And now kiss me, sweet friend, and lay me back, +for the mists close round me and I am gone!" + +With tender hands the Squire lowered his comrade's head, but even as he +did so there came a choking rush of blood, and the soul had passed. So +died a gallant cavalier of France, and Nigel as he knelt in the ditch +beside him prayed that his own end might be as noble and as debonair. + + + + +XXI. HOW THE SECOND MESSENGER WENT TO COSFORD + + + +Under cover of night the wounded men were lifted from the ditch and +carried back, whilst pickets of archers were advanced to the very +gate so that none should rebuild it. Nigel, sick at heart over his own +failure, the death of his prisoner and his fears for Aylward, crept back +into the camp, but his cup was not yet full, for Knolles was waiting for +him with a tongue which cut like a whip-lash. Who was he, a raw squire, +that he should lead an attack without orders? See what his crazy knight +errantry had brought about. Twenty men had been destroyed by it and +nothing gained. Their blood was on his head. Chandos should hear of his +conduct. He should be sent back to England when the castle had fallen. + +Such were the bitter words of Knolles, the more bitter because Nigel +felt in his heart that he had indeed done wrong, and that Chandos would +have said the same though, perchance, in kinder words. He listened in +silent respect, as his duty was, and then having saluted his leader +he withdrew apart, threw himself down amongst the bushes, and wept the +hottest tears of his life, sobbing bitterly with his face between his +hands. He had striven hard, and yet everything had gone wrong with him. +He was bruised, burned and aching from head to foot. Yet so high is the +spirit above the body that all was nothing compared to the sorrow and +shame which racked his soul. + +But a little thing changed the current of his thoughts and brought some +peace to his mind. He had slipped off his mail gauntlets, and as he +did so his fingers lighted upon the tiny bangle which Mary had fastened +there when they stood together upon St. Catharine's Hill on the +Guildford Road. He remembered the motto curiously worked in filigree of +gold. It ran: "Fais ce que dois, adviegne que pourra--c'est commande au +chevalier." + +The words rang in his weary brain. He had done what seemed right, come +what might. It had gone awry, it is true; but all things human may do +that. If he had carried the castle, he felt that Knolles would have +forgiven and forgotten all else. If he had not carried it, it was no +fault of his. No man could have done more. If Mary could see she would +surely have approved. Dropping into sleep, he saw her dark face, shining +with pride and with pity, stooping over him as he lay. She stretched out +her hand in his dream and touched him on the shoulder. He sprang up and +rubbed his eyes, for fact had woven itself into dream in the strange way +that it does, and some one was indeed leaning over him in the gloom, and +shaking him from his slumbers. But the gentle voice and soft touch of +the Lady Mary had changed suddenly to the harsh accents and rough grip +of Black Simon, the fierce Norfolk man-at-arms. + +"Surely you are the Squire Loring," he said, peering close to his face +in the darkness. + +"I am he. What then?" + +"I have searched through the camp for you, but when I saw the great +horse tethered near these bushes, I thought you would be found hard by. +I would have a word with you." + +"Speak on." + +"This man Aylward the bowman was my friend, and it is the nature that +God has given me to love my friends even as I hate my foes. He is also +thy servant, and it has seemed to me that you love him also." + +"I have good cause so to do." + +"Then you and I, Squire Loring, have more reason to strive on his behalf +than any of these others, who think more of taking the castle than of +saving those who are captives within. Do you not see that such a man as +this robber lord would, when all else had failed him, most surely cut +the throats of his prisoners at the last instant before the castle fell, +knowing well that come what might he would have short shrift himself? Is +that not certain?" + +"By Saint Paul! I had not thought of it." + +"I was with you, hammering at the inner gate," said Simon, "and yet +once when I thought that it was giving way I said in my heart: 'Good-by, +Samkin! I shall never see you more.' This Baron has gall in his +soul, even as I have myself, and do you think that I would give up my +prisoners alive, if I were constrained so to do? No, no; had we won our +way this day it would have been the death-stroke for them all." + +"It may be that you are right, Simon," said Nigel, "and the thought of +it should assuage our grief. But if we cannot save them by taking the +castle, then surely they are lost indeed." + +"It may be so, or it may not," Simon answered slowly. "It is in my mind +that if the castle were taken very suddenly, and in such a fashion that +they could not foresee it, then perchance we might get the prisoners +before they could do them scathe." + +Nigel bent forward eagerly, his hand on the soldier's arm. + +"You have some plan in your mind, Simon. Tell me what it is." + +"I had wished to tell Sir Robert, but he is preparing the assault for +to-morrow and will not be turned from his purpose. I have indeed a plan, +but whether it be good or not I cannot say until I have tried it. But +first I will tell you what put it into my thoughts. Know then that this +morning when I was in yonder ditch I marked one of their men upon the +wall. He was a big man with a white face, red hair and a touch of Saint +Anthony's fire upon the cheek." + +"But what has this to do with Aylward?" + +"I will show you. This evening after the assault I chanced to walk with +some of my fellows, round yonder small fort upon the knoll to see if we +could spy a weak spot in it. Some of them came to the wall to curse us, +and among them whom should I see but a big man with a white face, red +hair and a touch of Anthony's fire upon his cheek? What make you of +that, Squire Nigel?" + +"That this man had crossed from the castle to the fort." + +"In good sooth, it must indeed be so. There are not two such +ken-speckled men in the world. But if he crossed from the castle to the +fort, it was not above the ground, for our own people were between." + +"By Saint Paul! I see your meaning!" cried Nigel. "It is in your mind +that there is a passage under the earth from one to the other." + +"I am well sure of it." + +"Then if we should take the small fort we may pass down this tunnel, and +so carry the great castle also." + +"Such a thing might happen," said Simon, "and yet it is dangerous also, +for surely those in the castle would hear our assault upon the fort and +so be warned to bar the passage against us, and to slay the prisoners +before we could come." + +"What then is your rede?" + +"Could we find where the tunnel lay, Squire Nigel, I know not what is to +prevent us from digging down upon it and breaking into it so that both +fort and castle are at our mercy before either knows that we are there." + +Nigel clapped his hands with joy. "'Fore God!" he cried. "It is a most +noble plan! But alas! Simon, I see not how we can tell the course of +this passage or where we should dig." + +"I have peasants yonder with spades," said Simon. "There are two of my +friends, Harding of Barnstable and West-country John who are waiting for +us with their gear. If you will come to lead us, Squire Nigel, we are +ready to venture our bodies in the attempt." + +What would Knolles say in case they failed? The thought flashed through +Nigel's mind, but another came swiftly behind it. He would not venture +further unless he found hopes of success. And if he did venture further +he would put his life upon it. Giving that, he made amends for all +errors. And if on the other hand success crowned their efforts, then +Knolles would forgive his failure at the gateway. A minute later, every +doubt banished from his mind, he was making his way through the darkness +under the guidance of Black Simon. + +Outside the camp the two other men-at-arms were waiting for them, and +the four advanced together. Presently a little group of figures loomed +up in the darkness. It was a cloudy night, and a thin rain was falling +which obscured both the castle and the fort; but a stone had been placed +by Simon in the daytime which assured that they were between the two. + +"Is blind Andreas there?" asked Simon. + +"Yes, kind sir, I am here," said a voice. + +"This man," said Simon, "was once rich and of good repute, but he was +beggared by this robber lord, who afterwards put out his eyes so that he +has lived for many years in darkness at the charity of others." + +"How can he help us in our enterprise if he be indeed blind?" asked +Nigel. + +"It is for that very reason, fair lord, that he can be of greater +service than any other man," Simon answered; "for it often happens that +when a man has lost a sense the good God will strengthen those that +remain. Hence it is that Andreas has such ears that he can hear the sap +in the trees or the cheep of the mouse in its burrow. He has come to +help us to find the tunnel." + +"And I have found it," said the blind man proudly. "Here I have placed +my staff upon the line of it. Twice as I lay there with my ear to the +ground I have heard footsteps pass beneath me." + +"I trust you make no mistake, old man," said Nigel. + +For answer the blind man raised his staff and smote twice upon the +ground, once to the right and once to the left. The one gave a dull +thud, the other a hollow boom. + +"Can you not hear that?" he asked. "Will you ask me now if I make a +mistake?" + +"Indeed, we are much beholden to you!" cried Nigel. "Let the peasants +dig then, and as silently as they may. Do you keep your ear upon the +ground, Andreas, so that if anyone pass beneath us we shall be warned." + +So, amid the driving rain, the little group toiled in the darkness. +The blind man lay silent, flat upon his face, and twice they heard his +warning hiss and stopped their work, whilst some one passed beneath. In +an hour they had dug down to a stone arch which was clearly the outer +side of the tunnel roof. Here was a sad obstacle, for it might take long +to loosen a stone, and if their work was not done by the break of day +then their enterprise was indeed hopeless. They loosened the mortar with +a dagger, and at last dislodged one small stone which enabled them to +get at the others. Presently a dark hole blacker than the night around +them yawned at their feet, and their swords could touch no bottom to it. +They had opened the tunnel. + +"I would fain enter it first," said Nigel. "I pray you to lower me +down." They held him to the full length of their arms and then letting +him drop they heard him land safely beneath them. An instant later the +blind man started up with a low cry of alarm. + +"I hear steps coming," said he. "They are far off, but they draw +nearer." + +Simon thrust his head and neck down the hole. "Squire Nigel," he +whispered, "can you hear me?" + +"I can hear you, Simon." + +"Andreas says that some one comes." + +"Then cover over the hole," came the answer. "Quick, I pray you, cover +it over!" + +A mantle was stretched across it, so that no glimmer of light should +warn the new-comer. The fear was that he might have heard, the sound +of Nigel's descent. But soon it was clear that he had not done so, for +Andreas announced that he was still advancing. Presently Nigel could +hear the distant thud of his feet. If he bore a lantern all was lost. +But no gleam of light appeared in the black tunnel, and still the +footsteps drew nearer. + +Nigel breathed a prayer of thanks to all his guardian saints as he +crouched close to the slimy wall and waited breathless, his dagger +in his hand. Nearer yet and nearer came the steps. He could hear the +stranger's coarse breathing in the darkness. Then as he brushed past +Nigel bounded upon him with a tiger spring. There was one gasp of +astonishment, and not a sound more, for the Squire's grip was on the +man's throat and his body was pinned motionless against the wall. + +"Simon! Simon!" cried Nigel loudly. + +The mantle was moved from the hole. + +"Have you a cord? Or your belts linked together may serve." + +One of the peasants had a rope, and Nigel soon felt it dangling against +his hand. He listened and there was no sound in the passage. For an +instant he released his captive's throat. A torrent of prayers and +entreaties came forth. The man was shaking like a leaf in the wind. +Nigel pressed the point of his dagger against his face and dared him to +open his lips. Then he slipped the rope beneath his arms and tied it. + +"Pull him up!" he whispered, and for an instant the gray glimmer above +him was obscured. + +"We have him, fair sir," said Simon. + +"Then drop me the rope and hold it fast." + +A moment later Nigel stood among the group of men who had gathered round +their captive. It was too dark to see him, and they dare not strike +flint and steel. + +Simon passed his hand roughly over him and felt a fat clean-shaven +face, and a cloth gabardine which hung to the ankles. "Who are you?" he +whispered. "Speak the truth and speak it low, if you would ever speak +again." + +The man's teeth chattered in his head with cold and fright. "I speak no +English," he murmured. + +"French, then," said Nigel. + +"I am a holy priest of God. You court the ban of holy Church when you +lay hands upon me. I pray you let me go upon my way, for there are +those whom I would shrive and housel. If they should die in sin, their +damnation is upon you." + +"How are you called then?" + +"I am Dom Peter de Cervolles." + +"De Cervolles, the arch-priest, he who heated the brazier when they +burned out my eyes," cried old Andreas. "Of all the devils in hell there +is none fouler than this one. Friends, friends, if I have done aught +for you this night, I ask but one reward, that ye let me have my will of +this man." + +But Nigel pushed the old man back. "There is no time for this," he said. +"Now hark you, priest--if priest indeed you be--your gown and tonsure +will not save you if you play us false, for we are here of a set purpose +and we will go forward with it, come what may. Answer me and answer me +truly or it will be an ill night for you. In what part of the Castle +does this tunnel enter?" + +"In the lower cellar." + +"What is at the end?" + +"An oaken door." + +"Is it barred?" + +"Yes, it is barred." + +"How would you have entered?" + +"I would have given the password." + +"Who then would have opened?" + +"There is a guard within." + +"And beyond him?" + +"Beyond him are the prison cells and the jailers." + +"Who else would be afoot?" + +"No one save a guard at the gate and another on the battlement." + +"What then is the password?" + +The man was silent. + +"The password, fellow!" + +The cold points of two daggers pricked his throat; but still he would +not speak. + +"Where is the blind man?" asked Nigel. "Here, Andreas, you can have him +and do what you will with him." + +"Nay, nay," the priest whimpered. "Keep him off me. Save me from blind +Andreas! I will tell you everything." + +"The password then, this instant?" + +"It is 'Benedicite!'" + +"We have the password, Simon," cried Nigel. "Come then, let us on to the +farther end. These peasants will guard the priest, and they will remain +here lest we wish to send a message." + +"Nay, fair sir, it is in my mind that we can do better," said Simon. +"Let us take the priest with us, so that he who is within may know his +voice." + +"It is well thought of," said Nigel, "and first let us pray together, +for indeed this night may well be our last." + +He and the three men-at-arms knelt in the rain and sent up their simple +orisons, Simon still clutching tight to his prisoner's wrist. + +The priest fumbled in his breast and drew something forth. "It is the +heart of the blessed confessor Saint Enogat," said he. "It may be that +it will ease and assoil your souls if you would wish to handle it." + +The four Englishmen passed the flat silver case from hand to hand, each +pressing his lips devoutly upon it. Then they rose to their feet. Nigel +was the first to lower himself down the hole; then Simon; then the +priest, who was instantly seized by the other two. The men-at-arms +followed them. They had scarcely moved away from the hole when Nigel +stopped. + +"Surely some one else came after us," said he. + +They listened, but no whisper or rustle came from behind them. For a +minute they paused and then resumed their journey through the dark. It +seemed a long, long way, though in truth it was but a few hundred yards +before they came to a door with a glimmer of yellow light around it, +which barred their passage. Nigel struck upon it with his hand. + +There was the rasping of a bolt and then a loud voice "Is that you, +priest?" + +"Yes, it is I," said the prisoner in a quavering voice. "Open, Arnold!" + +The voice was enough. There was no question of passwords. The door swung +inward, and in an instant the janitor was cut down by Nigel and Simon. +So sudden and so fierce was the attack that save for the thud of +his body no sound was heard. A flood of light burst outward into the +passage, and the Englishmen stood with blinking eyes in its glare. + +In front of them lay a stone-flagged corridor, across which lay the +dead body of the janitor. It had doors on either side of it, and another +grated door at the farther end. A strange hubbub, a kind of low droning +and whining filled the air. The four men were standing listening, full +of wonder as to what this might mean, when a sharp cry came from behind +them. The priest lay in a shapeless heap upon the ground, and the blood +was rushing from his gaping throat. Down the passage, a black shadow in +the yellow light, there fled a crouching man, who clattered with a stick +as he went. + +"It is Andreas," cried West-country Will. "He has slain him." + +"Then it was he that I heard behind us," said Nigel. "Doubtless he was +at our very heels in the darkness. I fear that the priest's cry has been +heard." + +"Nay," said Simon, "there are so many cries that one more may well pass. +Let us take this lamp from the wall and see what sort of devil's den we +have around us." + +They opened the door upon the right, and so horrible a smell issued from +it that they were driven back from it. The lamp which Simon held forward +showed a monkeylike creature mowing and grimacing in the corner, man or +woman none could tell, but driven crazy by loneliness and horror. In the +other cell was a graybearded man fettered to the wall, looking blankly +before him, a body without a soul, yet with life still in him, for his +dull eyes turned slowly in their direction. But it was from behind the +central door at the end of the passage that the chorus of sad cries came +which filled the air. + +"Simon," said Nigel, "before we go farther we will take this outer door +from its hinges. With it we will block this passage so that at the worst +we may hold our ground here until help comes. Do you back to the camp +as fast as your feet can bear you. The peasants will draw you upward +through the hole. Give my greetings to Sir Robert and tell him that the +castle is taken without fail if he comes this way with fifty men. Say +that we have made a lodgment within the walls. And tell him also, Simon, +that I would counsel him to make a stir before the gateway so that the +guard may be held there whilst we make good our footing behind them. Go, +good Simon, and lose not a moment!" + +But the man-at-arms shook his head. "It is I who have brought you here, +fair sir, and here I bide through fair and foul. But you speak wisely +and well, for Sir Robert should indeed be told what is going forward now +that we have gone so far. Harding, do you go with all speed and bear the +gentle Nigel's message." + +Reluctantly the man-at-arms sped upon his errand. They could hear the +racing of his feet and the low jingle of his harness until they died +away in the tunnel. Then the three companions approached the door at the +end. It was their intention to wait where they were until help should +come, but suddenly amid the babel of cries within there broke forth an +English voice, shouting in torment. + +"My God!" it cried, "I pray you, comrades, for a cup of water, as you +hope for Christ's mercy!" + +A shout of laughter and the thud of a heavy blow followed the appeal. + +All the hot blood rushed to Nigel's head at the sound, buzzing in his +ears and throbbing in his temples. There are times when the fiery heart +of a man must overbear the cold brain of a soldier. With one bound he +was at the door, with another he was through it, the men-at-arms at +his heels. So strange was the scene before them that for an instant all +three stood motionless with horror and surprise. + +It was a great vaulted chamber, brightly lit by many torches. At the +farther end roared a great fire. In front of it three naked men were +chained to posts in such a way that flinch as they might they could +never get beyond the range of its scorching heat. Yet they were so far +from it that no actual burn would be inflicted if they could but keep +turning and shifting so as continually to present some fresh portion of +their flesh to the flames. Hence they danced and whirled in front of the +fire, tossing ceaselessly this way and that within the compass of their +chains, wearied to death, their protruding tongues cracked and blackened +with thirst, but unable for one instant to rest from their writhings and +contortions. + +Even stranger was the sight at each side of the room, whence came that +chorus of groans which had first struck upon the ears of Nigel and his +companions. A line of great hogsheads were placed alongside the walls, +and within each sat a man, his head protruding from the top. As they +moved within there was a constant splashing and washing of water. The +white wan faces all turned together as the door flew open, and a cry +of amazement and of hope took the place of those long-drawn moans of +despair. + +At the same instant two fellows clad in black, who had been seated with +a flagon of wine between them at a table near the fire, sprang wildly +to their feet, staring with blank amazement at this sudden inrush. That +instant of delay deprived them of their last chance of safety. Midway +down the room was a flight of stone steps which led to the main door. + +Swift as a wildcat Nigel bounded toward it and gained the steps a stride +or two before the jailers. They turned and made for the other which led +to the passage, but Simon and his comrades were nearer to it than they. +Two sweeping blows, two dagger thrusts into writhing figures, and the +ruffians who worked the will of the Butcher lay dead upon the floor of +their slaughter-house. + +Oh, the buzz of joy and of prayer from all those white lips! Oh, the +light of returning hope in all those sunken weary eyes! One wild shout +would have gone up had not Nigel's outstretched hands and warning voice +hushed them to silence. + +He opened the door behind him. A curving newel staircase wound upward +into the darkness. He listened, but no sound came down. There was a key +in the outer lock of the iron door. He whipped it out and turned it on +the inner side. The ground that they had gained was safe. Now they could +turn to the relief of these poor fellows beside them. A few strong blows +struck off the irons and freed the three dancers before the fire. With a +husky croak of joy, they rushed across to their comrades' water-barrels, +plunged their heads in like horses, and drank and drank and drank. Then +in turn the poor shivering wretches were taken out of the barrels, their +skins bleached and wrinkled with long soaking. Their bonds were torn +from them; but, cramped and fixed, their limbs refused to act, and they +tumbled and twisted upon the floor in their efforts to reach Nigel and +to kiss his hand. + +In a corner lay Aylward, dripping from his barrel and exhausted with +cold and hunger. Nigel ran to his side and raised his head. The jug of +wine from which the two jailers had drunk still stood upon their table. +The Squire placed it to the archer's lips and he took a hearty pull at +it. + +"How is it with you now, Aylward?" + +"Better, Squire, better, but may I never touch water again as long as I +live! Alas! poor Dicon has gone, and Stephen also--the life chilled out +of them. The cold is in the very marrow of my bones. I pray you, let me +lean upon your arm as far as the fire, that I may warm the frozen blood +and set it running in my veins once more." + +A strange sight it was to see these twenty naked men crouching in a +half-circle round the fire with their trembling hands extended to the +blaze. Soon their tongues at least were thawed, and they poured out the +story of their troubles with many a prayer and ejaculation to the saints +for their safe delivery. No food had crossed their lips since they had +been taken. The Butcher had commanded them to join his garrison and to +shoot upon their comrades from the wall. When they refused he had set +aside three of them for execution. + +The others had been dragged to the cellar, whither the leering tyrant +had followed them. Only one question he had asked them, whether they +were of a hot-blooded nature or of a cold. Blows were showered upon them +until they answered. Three had said cold, and had been condemned to the +torment of the fire. The rest who had said hot were delivered up to the +torture of the water-cask. Every few hours this man or fiend had come +down to exult over their sufferings and to ask them whether they were +ready yet to enter his service. Three had consented and were gone. But +the others had all of them stood firm, two of them even to their death. + +Such was the tale to which Nigel and his comrades listened whilst +they waited impatiently for the coming of Knolles and his men. Many +an anxious look did they cast down the black tunnel, but no glimmer of +light and no clash of steel came from its depths. Suddenly, however, a +loud and measured sound broke upon their ears. It was a dull metallic +clang, ponderous and slow, growing louder and ever louder--the tread of +an armored man. The poor wretches round the fire, all unnerved by hunger +and suffering, huddled together with wan, scared faces, their eyes fixed +in terror on the door. + +"It is he!" they whispered. "It is the Butcher himself!" + +Nigel had darted to the door and listened intently. There were no +footfalls save those of one man. Once sure of that, he softly turned +the key in the lock. At the same instant there came a bull's bellow from +without. + +"Ives! Bertrand!" cried the voice. "Can you not hear me coming, you +drunken varlets? You shall cool your own heads in the water-casks, you +lazy rascals! What, not even now! Open, you dogs. Open, I say!" + +He had thrust down the latch, and with a kick he flung the door wide +and rushed inward. For an instant he stood motionless, a statue of dull +yellow metal, his eyes fixed upon the empty casks and the huddle of +naked men. Then with the roar of a trapped lion, he turned, but the door +had slammed behind him, and Black Simon, with grim figure and sardonic +face, stood between. + +The Butcher looked round him helplessly, for he was unarmed save for his +dagger. Then his eyes fell upon Nigel's roses. + +"You are a gentleman of coat-armor," he cried. "I surrender myself to +you." + +"I will not take your surrender, you black villain," said Nigel. "Draw +and defend yourself. Simon, give him your sword." + +"Nay, this is madness," said the blunt man-at-arms. "Why should I give +the wasp a sting?" + +"Give it him, I say. I cannot kill him in cold blood." + +"But I can!" yelled Aylward, who had crept up from the fire. "Come, +comrades! By these ten finger-bones! has he not taught us how cold blood +should be warmed?" + +Like a pack of wolves they were on him, and he clanged upon the floor +with a dozen frenzied naked figures clutching and clinging above him. +In vain Nigel tried to pull them off. They were mad with rage, these +tortured starving men, their eyes fixed and glaring, their hair on end, +their teeth gnashing with fury, while they tore at the howling, writhing +man. Then with a rattle and clatter they pulled him across the room by +his two ankles and dragged him into the fire. + +Nigel shuddered and turned away his eyes as he saw the brazen figure +roll out and stagger to his knees, only to be hurled once more into the +heart of the blaze. His prisoners screamed with joy and clapped their +hands as they pushed him back with their feet until the armor was too +hot for them to touch. Then at last he lay still and glowed darkly red, +whilst the naked men danced in a wild half-circle round the fire. + +But now at last the supports had come. Lights flashed and armor gleamed +down the tunnel. The cellar filled with armed men, while from above +came the cries and turmoil of the feigned assault upon the gate. Led +by Knolles and Nigel, the storming party rushed upward and seized the +courtyard. The guard of the gate taken in the rear threw down their +weapons and cried for mercy. The gate was thrown open and the assailants +rushed in, with hundreds of furious peasants at their heels. Some of the +robbers died in hot blood, many in cold; but all died, for Knolles had +vowed to give no quarter. Day was just breaking when the last fugitive +had been hunted out and slain. From all sides came the yells and whoops +of the soldiers with the rending and riving of doors as they burst +into the store-rooms and treasure-chambers. There was a joyous scramble +amongst them, for the plunder of eleven years, gold and jewels, satins +and velvets, rich plate and noble hangings were all to be had for the +taking. + +The rescued prisoners, their hunger appeased and their clothes restored, +led the search for booty. Nigel, leaning on his sword by the gateway, +saw Aylward totter past, a huge bundle under each arm, another slung +over his back and a smaller packet hanging from his mouth. He dropped it +for a moment as he passed his young master. + +"By these ten finger-bones! I am right glad that I came to the war, and +no man could ask for a more goodly life," said he. "I have a present +here for every girl in Tilford, and my father need never fear the frown +of the sacrist of Waverley again. But how of you, Squire Loring? It +standeth not aright that we should gather the harvest whilst you, who +sowed it, go forth empty-handed. Come, gentle sir, take these things +that I have gathered, and I will go back and find more." + +But Nigel smiled and shook his head. "You have gained what your heart +desired, and perchance I have done so also," said he. + +An instant later Knolles strode up to him with outstretched hand. "I ask +your pardon, Nigel," said he. "I have spoken too hotly in my wrath." + +"Nay, fair sir, I was at fault." + +"If we stand here now within this castle, it is to you that I owe it. +The King shall know of it, and Chandos also. Can I do aught else, Nigel, +to prove to you the high esteem in which I hold you?" + +The Squire flushed with pleasure. "Do you send a messenger home to +England, fair sir, with news of these doings?" + +"Surely, I must do so. But do not tell me, Nigel, that you would be that +messenger. Ask me some other favor, for indeed I cannot let you go." + +"Now God forbid!" cried Nigel. "By Saint Paul! I would not be so caitiff +and so thrall as to leave you, when some small deed might still be done. +But I would fain send a message by your messenger." + +"To whom?" + +"It is to the Lady Mary, daughter of old Sir John Buttesthorn who dwells +near Guildford." + +"But you will write the message, Nigel. Such greetings as a cavalier +sends to his lady-love should be under seal." + +"Nay, he can carry my message by word of mouth." + +"Then I shall tell him for he goes this morning. What message, then, +shall he say to the lady?" + +"He will give her my very humble greeting, and he will say to her that +for the second time Saint Catharine has been our friend." + + + + +XXII. HOW ROBERT OF BEAUMANOIR CAME TO PLOERMEL + + +Sir Robert Knolles and his men passed onward that day, looking back many +a time to see the two dark columns of smoke, one thicker and one more +slender, which arose from the castle and from the fort of La Brohiniere. +There was not an archer nor a man-at-arms who did not bear a great +bundle of spoil upon his back, and Knolles frowned darkly as he looked +upon them. Gladly would he have thrown it all down by the roadside, but +he had tried such matters before, and he knew that it was as safe to +tear a half-gnawed bone from a bear as their blood-won plunder from such +men as these. In any case it was but two days' march to Ploermel, where +he hoped to bring his journey to an end. + +That night they camped at Mauron, where a small English and Breton +garrison held the castle. Right glad were the bowmen to see some of +their own countrymen once more, and they spent the night over wine and +dice, a crowd of Breton girls assisting, so that next morning their +bundles were much lighter, and most of the plunder of La Brohiniere was +left with the men and women of Mauron. Next day their march lay with a +fair sluggish river upon their right, and a great rolling forest upon +their left which covered the whole country. At last toward evening the +towers of Ploermel rose before them and they saw against a darkening sky +the Red Cross of England waving in the wind. So blue was the river Duc +which skirted the road, and so green its banks, that they might indeed +have been back beside their own homely streams, the Oxford Thames or +the Midland Trent, but ever as the darkness deepened there came in wild +gusts the howling of wolves from the forest to remind them that they +were in a land of war. So busy had men been for many years in hunting +one another that the beasts of the chase had grown to a monstrous +degree, until the streets of the towns were no longer safe from the wild +inroads of the fierce creatures, the wolves and the bears, who swarmed +around them. + +It was nightfall when the little army entered the outer gate of the +Castle of Ploermel and encamped in the broad Bailey yard. Ploermel was +at that time the center of British power in Mid-Brittany, as Hennebon +was in the West, and it was held by a garrison of five hundred men under +an old soldier, Richard of Bambro', a rugged Northumbrian, trained in +that great school of warriors, the border wars. He who had ridden the +marches of the most troubled frontier in Europe, and served his time +against the Liddlesdale and Nithsdale raiders was hardened for a life in +the field. + +Of late, however, Bambro' had been unable to undertake any enterprise, +for his reinforcements had failed him, and amid his following he had +but three English knights and seventy men. The rest were a mixed crew +of Bretons, Hainaulters and a few German mercenary soldiers, brave +men individually, as those of that stock have ever been, but lacking +interest in the cause, and bound together by no common tie of blood or +tradition. + +On the other hand, the surrounding castles, and especially that of +Josselin, were held by strong forces of enthusiastic Bretons, inflamed +by a common patriotism, and full of warlike ardor. Robert of Beaumanoir, +the fierce seneschal of the house of Rohan, pushed constant forays and +excursions against Ploermel so that town and castle were both in daily +dread of being surrounded and besieged. Several small parties of the +English faction had been cut off and slain to a man, and so straitened +were the others that it was difficult for them to gather provisions from +the country round. + +Such was the state of Bambro's garrison when on that March evening +Knolles and his men streamed into the bailey-yard of his Castle. + +In the glare of the torches at the inner gate Bambro' was waiting to +receive them, a dry, hard, wizened man, small and fierce, with beady +black eyes and quick furtive ways. + +Beside him, a strange contrast, stood his Squire, Croquart, a German, +whose name and fame as a man-at-arms were widespread, though like Robert +Knolles himself he had begun as a humble page. He was a very tall man, +with an enormous spread of shoulders, and a pair of huge hands with +which he could crack a horse-shoe. He was slow and lethargic, save in +moments of excitement, and his calm blond face, his dreamy blue eyes and +his long fair hair gave him so gentle an appearance that none save those +who had seen him in his berserk mood, raging, an iron giant, in the +forefront of the battle, could ever guess how terrible a warrior he +might be. Little knight and huge squire stood together under the arch of +the donjon and gave welcome to the newcomers, whilst a swarm of soldiers +crowded round to embrace their comrades and to lead them off where they +might feed and make merry together. + +Supper had been set in the hall of Ploermel wherein the knights and +squires assembled. Bambro' and Croquart were there with Sir Hugh +Calverly, an old friend of Knolles and a fellow-townsman, for both were +men of Chester. Sir Hugh was a middle-sized flaxen man, with hard +gray eyes and fierce large-nosed face sliced across with the scar of a +sword-cut. There too were Geoffrey D'Ardaine, a young Breton seigneur, +Sir Thomas Belford, a burly thick-set Midland Englishman, Sir Thomas +Walton, whose surcoat of scarlet martlets showed that he was of the +Surrey Waltons, James Marshall and John Russell, young English squires, +and the two brothers, Richard and Hugh Le Galliard, who were of Gascon +blood. Besides these were several squires, unknown to fame, and of the +new-comers, Sir Robert Knolles, Sir Thomas Percy, Nigel Loring and +two other squires, Allington and Parsons. These were the company +who gathered in the torch-light round the table of the Seneschal of +Ploermel, and kept high revel with joyous hearts because they thought +that much honor and noble deeds lay before them. + +But one sad face there was at the board, and that belonged to him at the +head of it. Sir Robert Bambro' sat with his chin leaning upon his hand +and his eyes downcast upon the cloth, whilst all round him rose the +merry clatter of voices, everyone planning some fresh enterprise which +might now be attempted. Sir Robert Knolles was for an immediate advance +upon Josselin. Calverly thought that a raid might be made into the South +where the main French power lay. Others spoke of an attack upon Vannes. + +To all these eager opinions Bambro' listened in a moody silence, which +he broke at last by a fierce execration which drew a hushed attention +from the company. "Say no more, fair sirs," he cried; "for indeed your +words are like so many stabs in my heart. All this and more we might +indeed have done. But of a truth you are too late." + +"Too late?'" cried Knolles. "What mean you, Richard?" + +"Alas; that I should have to say it, but you and all these fair soldiers +might be back in England once more for all the profit that I am like to +have from your coming. Saw you a rider on a white horse ere you reached +the Castle?" + +"Nay, I saw him not?" + +"He came by the western road from Hennebon. Would that he had broken his +neck ere he came here. Not an hour ago he left his message and now +hath ridden on to warn the garrison of Malestroit. A truce has been +proclaimed for a year betwixt the French King and the English, and he +who breaks it forfeits life and estate." + +"A truce!" Here was an end to all their fine dreams. They looked blankly +at each other all round the table, whilst Croquart brought his great +fist down upon the board until the glasses rattled again. Knolles sat +with clenched hands as if he were a figure of stone, while Nigel's heart +turned cold and heavy within him. A truce! Where then was his third +deed, and how might he return without it? + +Even as they sat in moody silence there was the call of a bugle from +somewhere out in the darkness. + +Sir Richard looked up with surprise. "We are not wont to be summoned +after once the portcullis is up," said he. "Truce or no truce, we must +let no man within our walls until we have proved him. Croquart, see to +it!" + +The huge German left the room. The company were still seated in +despondent silence when he returned. + +"Sir Richard," said he, "the brave knight Robert of Beaumanoir and his +Squire William de Montaubon are without the gate, and would fain have +speech with you." + +Bambro' started in his chair. What could the fierce leader of the +Bretons, a man who was red to the elbow with English blood, have to say +to them? On what errand had he left his castle of Josselin to pay this +visit to his deadly enemies? + +"Are they armed?" he asked. + +"They are unarmed." + +"Then admit them and bring them hither, but double the guards and take +all heed against surprise." + +Places were set at the farther end of the table for these most +unexpected guests. Presently the door was swung open, and Croquart with +all form and courtesy announced the two Bretons, who entered with the +proud and lofty air of gallant warriors and high-bred gentlemen. + +Beaumanoir was a tall dark man with raven hair and long swarthy beard. +He was strong and straight as a young oak, with fiery black eyes, and +no flaw in his comely features save that his front teeth had been dashed +from their sockets. His Squire, William of Montaubon, was also tall, +with a thin hatchet face, and two small gray eyes set very close upon +either side of a long fierce nose. In Beaumanoir's expression one read +only gallantry and frankness; in Montaubon's there was gallantry also, +but it was mixed with the cruelty and cunning of the wolf. They bowed +as they entered, and the little English seneschal advanced with +outstretched hand to meet them. + +"Welcome, Robert, so long as you are beneath this roof," said he. +"Perhaps the time may come in another place when we may speak to each +other in another fashion." + +"So I hope, Richard," said Beaumanoir; "but indeed we of Josselin bear +you in high esteem and are much beholden to you and to your men for all +that you have done for us. We could not wish better neighbors nor any +from whom more honor is to be gained. I learn that Sir Robert Knolles +and others have joined you, and we are heavy-hearted to think that the +orders of our Kings should debar us from attempting a venture." He +and his squire sat down at the places set for them, and filling their +glasses drank to the company. + +"What you say is true, Robert," said Bambro', "and before you came we +were discussing the matter among ourselves and grieving that it should +be so. When heard you of the truce?" + +"Yester-evening a messenger rode from Nantes." + +"Our news came to-night from Hennebon. The King's own seal was on the +order. So I fear that for a year at least you will bide at Josselin and +we at Ploermel, and kill time as we may. Perchance we may hunt the wolf +together in the great forest, or fly our hawks on the banks of the Duc." + +"Doubtless we shall do all this, Richard," said Beaumanoir; "but by +Saint Cadoc it is in my mind that with good-will upon both sides we may +please ourselves and yet stand excused before our Kings." + +Knights and squires leaned forward in their chairs, their eager eyes, +fixed upon him. He broke into a gap-toothed smile as he looked round at +the circle, the wizened seneschal, the blond giant, Nigel's fresh young +face, the grim features of Knolles, and the yellow hawk-like Calverly, +all burning with the same desire. + +"I see that I need not doubt the good-will," said he, "and of that I was +very certain before I came upon this errand. Bethink you then that this +order applies to war but not to challenges, spear-runnings, knightly +exchanges or the like. King Edward is too good a knight, and so is King +John, that either of them should stand in the way of a gentleman who +desires to advance himself or to venture his body for the exaltation of +his lady. Is this not so?" + +A murmur of eager assent rose from the table. + +"If you as the garrison of Ploermel march upon the garrison of Josselin, +then it is very plain that we have broken the truce and upon our heads +be it. But if there be a private bickering betwixt me, for example, and +this young squire whose eyes show that he is very eager for honor, and +if thereafter others on each side join in and fight upon the quarrel, +it is in no sense war, but rather our own private business which no king +can alter." + +"Indeed, Robert," said Bambro', "all that you say is very good and +fair." + +Beaumanoir leaned forward toward Nigel, his brimming glass in his hand. +"Your name, squire?" said he. + +"My name is Nigel Loring." + +"I see that you are young and eager, so I choose you as I would fain +have been chosen when I was of your age." + +"I thank you, fair sir," said Nigel. "It is great honor that one so +famous as yourself should condescend to do some small deed upon me." + +"But we must have cause for quarrel, Nigel. Now here I drink to the +ladies of Brittany, who of all ladies upon this earth are the most fair +and the most virtuous, so that the least worthy-amongst them is far +above the best of England. What say you to that, young sir?" + +Nigel dipped his finger in his glass and leaning over he placed its wet +impress on the Breton's hand. "This in your face!" said he. + +Beaumanoir swept off the red drop of moisture and smiled his approval. +"It could not have been better done," said he. "Why spoil my velvet +paltock as many a hot-headed fool would have done. It is in my mind, +young sir, that you will go far. And now, who follows up this quarrel?" + +A growl ran round the table. + +Beaumanoir ran his eye round and shook his head. "Alas!" said he, "there +are but twenty of you here, and I have thirty at Josselin who are so +eager to advance themselves that if I return without hope for all of +them there will be sore hearts amongst them. I pray you, Richard, since +we have been at these pains to arrange matters, that you in turn will do +what you may. Can you not find ten more men?" + +"But not of gentle blood." + +"Nay, it matters not, if they will only fight." + +"Of that there can be no doubt, for the castle is full of archers and +men-at-arms who would gladly play a part in the matter." + +"Then choose ten," said Beaumanoir. + +But for the first time the wolf-like squire opened his thin lips. +"Surely, my lord, you will not allow archers," said he. + +"I fear not any man." + +"Nay, fair sir, consider that this is a trial of weapons betwixt us +where man faces man. You have seen these English archers, and you know +how fast and how strong are their shafts. Bethink you that if ten of +them were against us it is likely that half of us would be down before +ever we came to handstrokes." + +"By Saint Cadoc, William, I think that you are right," cried the Breton. +"If we are to have such a fight as will remain in the memories of men, +you will bring no archers and we no crossbows. Let it be steel upon +steel. How say you then?" + +"Surely we can bring ten men-at-arms to make up the thirty that you +desire, Robert. It is agreed then that we fight on no quarrel of England +and France, but over this matter of the ladies in which you and Squire +Loring have fallen out. And now the time?" + +"At once." + +"Surely at once, or perchance a second messenger may come and this also +be forbidden. We will be ready with to-morrow's sunrise." + +"Nay, a day later," cried the Breton Squire. "Bethink you, my lord, that +the three lances of Radenac would take time to come over." + +"They are not of our garrison, and they shall not have a place." + +"But, fair sir, of all the lances of Brittany--" + +"Nay, William, I will not have it an hour later. To-morrow it shall be, +Richard." + +"And where?" + +"I marked a fitting place even as I rode here this evening. If you cross +the river and take the bridle-path through the fields which leads to +Josselin you come midway upon a mighty oak standing at the corner of a +fair and level meadow. There let us meet at midday to-morrow." + +"Agreed!" cried Bambro'. "But I pray you not to rise, Robert! The night +is still young and the spices and hippocras will soon be served. Bide +with us, I pray you, for if you would fain hear the latest songs from +England, these gentlemen have doubtless brought them. To some of us +perchance it is the last night, so we would make it a full one." + +But the gallant Breton shook his head. "It may indeed be the last night +for many," said he, "and it is but right that my comrades should know +it. I have no need of monk or friar, for I cannot think that harm will +ever come beyond the grave to one who has borne himself as a knight +should, but others have other thoughts upon these matters and would fain +have time for prayer and penitence. Adieu, fair sirs, and I drink a last +glass to a happy meeting at the midway oak." + + + + +XXIII. HOW THIRTY OF JOSSELIN ENCOUNTERED THIRTY OF PLOERMEL + + +All night the Castle of Ploermel rang with warlike preparations, for the +smiths were hammering and filing and riveting, preparing the armor for +the champions. In the stable yard hostlers were testing and grooming the +great war-horses, whilst in the chapel knights and squires were easing +their souls at the knees of old Father Benedict. + +Down in the courtyard, meanwhile, the men-at-arms had been assembled, +and the volunteers weeded out until the best men had been selected. +Black Simon had obtained a place, and great was the joy which shone +upon his grim visage. With him were chosen young Nicholas Dagsworth, a +gentleman adventurer who was nephew to the famous Sir Thomas, Walter the +German, Hulbitee--a huge peasant whose massive frame gave promise which +his sluggish spirit failed to fulfil--John Alcock, Robin Adey and Raoul +Provost. These with three others made up the required thirty. Great was +the grumbling and evil the talk amongst the archers when it was learned +that none of them were to be included, but the bow had been forbidden on +either side. It is true that many of them were expert fighters both +with ax and with sword, but they were unused to carry heavy armor, and +a half-armed man would have short shrift in such a hand-to-hand struggle +as lay before them. + +It was two hours after tierce, or one hour before noon, on the fourth +Wednesday of Lent in the year of Christ 1351 that the men of Ploermel +rode forth from their castle-gate and crossed the bridge of the Due. In +front was Bambro' with his Squire Croquart, the latter on a great roan +horse bearing the banner of Ploermel, which was a black rampant lion +holding a blue flag upon a field of ermine. Behind him came Robert +Knolles and Nigel Loring, with an attendant at their side, who carried +the pennon of the black raven. Then rode Sir Thomas Percy with his blue +lion flaunting above him, and Sir Hugh Calverly, whose banner bore a +silver owl, followed by the massive Belford who carried a huge iron +club, weighing sixty pounds, upon his saddlebow, and Sir Thomas Walton +the knight of Surrey. Behind them were four brave Anglo-Bretons, Perrot +de Commelain, Le Gaillart, d'Aspremont and d'Ardaine, who fought against +their own countrymen because they were partisans of the Countess of +Montfort. Her engrailed silver cross upon a blue field was carried at +their head. In the rear were five German or Hainault mercenaries, the +tall Hulbitee, and the men-at-arms. Altogether of these combatants +twenty were of English birth, four were Breton and six were of German +blood. + +So, with glitter of armor and flaunting of pennons, their warhorses +tossing and pawing, the champions rode down to the midway oak. Behind +them streamed hundreds of archers and men-at-arms whose weapons had been +wisely taken from them lest a general battle should ensue. With them +also went the townsfolk, men and women, together with wine-sellers, +provisions merchants, armorers, grooms and heralds, with surgeons to +tend the wounded and priests to shrive the dying. The path was blocked +by this throng, but all over the face of the country horsemen and +footmen, gentle and simple, men and women, could be seen speeding their +way to the scene of the encounter. + +The journey was not a long one, for presently, as they threaded their +way through the fields, there appeared before them a great gray oak +which spread its gnarled leafless branches over the corner of a green +and level meadow. The tree was black with the peasants who had climbed +into it, and all round it was a huge throng, chattering and calling +like a rookery at sunset. A storm of hooting broke out from them at the +approach of the English, for Bambro' was hated in the country where he +raised money for the Montfort cause by putting every parish to ransom +and maltreating those who refused to pay. There was little amenity in +the warlike ways which had been learned upon the Scottish border. The +champions rode onward without deigning to take notice of the taunts of +the rabble, but the archers turned that way and soon beat the mob to +silence. Then they resolved themselves into the keepers of the ground, +and pressed the people back until they formed a dense line along the +edge of the field, leaving the whole space clear for the warriors. + +The Breton champions had not yet arrived, so the English tethered their +horses at one side of the ground, and then gathered round their leader. +Every man had his shield slung round his neck, and had cut his spear to +the length of five feet so that it might be more manageable for fighting +on foot. Besides the spear a sword or a battle-ax hung at the side of +each. They were clad from head to foot in armor, with devices upon +the crests and surcoats to distinguish them from their antagonists. +At present their visors were still up and they chatted gayly with each +other. + +"By Saint Dunstan!" cried Percy, slapping his gauntleted hands together +and stamping his steel feet. "I shall be right glad to get to work, for +my blood is chilled." + +"I warrant you will be warm enough ere you get through," said Calverly. + +"Or cold forever. Candle shall burn and bell toll at Alnwick Chapel if +I leave this ground alive, but come what may, fair sirs, it should be a +famous joust and one which will help us forward. Surely each of us will +have worshipfully won worship, if we chance to come through." + +"You say truth, Thomas," said Knolles, bracing his girdle. "For my +own part I have no joy in such encounters when there is warfare to be +carried out, for it standeth not aright that a man should think of his +own pleasure and advancement rather than of the King's cause and the +weal of the army. But in times of truce I can think of no better way in +which a day may be profitably spent. Why so silent, Nigel?" + +"Indeed, fair sir, I was looking toward Josselin, which lies as I +understand beyond those woods. I see no sign of this debonair gentleman +and of his following. It would be indeed grievous pity if any cause came +to hold them back." + +Hugh Calverly laughed at the words. "You need have no fear, young sir," +said he. "Such a spirit lies in Robert de Beaumanoir that if he must +come alone he would ride against us none the less. I warrant that if +he were on a bed of death he would be borne here and die on the green +field." + +"You say truly, Hugh," said Bambro'. "I know him and those who ride +behind him. Thirty stouter men or more skilled in arms are not to be +found in Christendom. It is in my mind that come what may there will be +much honor for all of us this day. Ever in my head I have a rhyme which +the wife of a Welsh archer gave me when I crossed her hand with a golden +bracelet after the intaking of Bergerac. She was of the old blood of +Merlin with the power of sight. Thus she said-- + + "'Twixt the oak-tree and the river + Knightly fame aid brave endeavor + Make an honored name forever.' + +"Methinks I see the oak-tree, and yonder is the river. Surely this +should betide some good to us." + +The huge German Squire betrayed some impatience during this speech of +his leader. Though his rank was subordinate, no man present had more +experience of warfare or was more famous as a fighter than he. He new +broke brusquely into the talk. "We should be better employed in ordering +our line and making our plans than in talking of the rhymes of Merlin or +such old wives' tales," said he. "It is to our own strong arms and good +weapons that we must trust this day. And first I would ask you, Sir +Richard, what is your will if perchance you should fall in the midst of +the fight?" + +Bambro' turned to the others. "If such should be the case, fair sirs, I +desire that my Squire Croquart should command." + +There was a pause while the knights looked with some chagrin at each +other. The silence was broken by Knolles. + +"I will do what you say, Richard," said he, "though indeed it is bitter +that we who are knights should serve beneath a squire. Yet it is not for +us to fall out among ourselves now at this last moment, and I have ever +heard that Croquart is a very worthy and valiant man. Therefore, I will +pledge you on jeopardy of my soul that I will accept him as leader if +you fall." + +"So will I also, Richard," said Calverly. + +"And I too!" cried Belford. "But surely I hear music, and yonder are +their pennons amid the trees." + +They all turned, leaning upon their short spears, and watched the +advance of the men of Josselin, as their troop wound its way out from +the woodlands. In front rode three heralds with tabards of the ermine of +Brittany, blowing loudly upon silver trumpets. Behind them a great man +upon a white horse bore the banner of Josselin which carries nine golden +torteaus upon a scarlet field. Then came the champions riding two +and two, fifteen knights and fifteen squires, each with his pennon +displayed. Behind them on a litter was borne an aged priest, the Bishop +of Rennes, carrying in his hands the viaticum and the holy oils that +he might give the last aid and comfort of the Church to those who were +dying. The procession was terminated by hundreds of men and women +from Josselin, Guegon, and Helleon, and by the entire garrison of the +fortress, who came, as the English had done, without their arms. The +head of this long column had reached the field before the rear were +clear of the wood, but as they arrived the champions picketed their +horses on the farther side, behind which their banner was planted and +the people lined up until they had inclosed the whole lists with a dense +wall of spectators. + +With keen eyes the English party had watched the armorial blazonry of +their antagonists, for those fluttering pennons and brilliant surcoats +carried a language which all men could read. In front was the banner of +Beaumanoir, blue with silver frets. His motto "J'ayme qui m'ayme" was +carried on a second flag by a little page. + +"Whose is the shield behind him--silver with scarlet drops?" asked +Knolles. + +"It is his Squire, William of Montaubon," Calverly answered. "And there +are the golden lion of Rochefort and the silver cross of Du Bois the +Strong. I would not wish to meet a better company than are before us +this day. See, there are the blue rings of young Tintiniac, who slew +my Squire Hubert last Lammastide. With the aid of Saint George I will +avenge him ere nightfall." + +"By the three kings of Almain," growled Croquart, "we will need to fight +hard this day, for never have I seen so many good soldiers gathered +together. Yonder is Yves Cheruel, whom they call the man of iron, Caro +de Bodegat also with whom I have had more than one bickering--that is +he with the three ermine circles on the scarlet shield. There too is +left-handed Alain de Karanais; bear in mind that his stroke comes on the +side where there is no shield." + +"Who is the small stout man"--asked Nigel--"he with the black and silver +shield? By Saint Paul! he seems a very worthy person and one from whom +much might be gained, for he is nigh as broad as he is long." + +"It is Sir Robert Raguenel," said Calverly, whose long spell of service +in Brittany had made him familiar with the people. "It is said that he +can lift a horse upon his back. Beware a full stroke of that steel +mace, for the armor is not made that can abide it. But here is the good +Beaumanoir, and surely it is time that we came to grips." + +The Breton leader had marshaled his men in a line opposite to the +English, and now he strode forward and shook Bambro' by the hand. "By +Saint Cadoc! this is a very joyous meeting, Richard," said he, "and we +have certainly hit upon a very excellent way of keeping a truce." + +"Indeed, Robert," said Bambro', "we owe you much thanks, for I can see +that you have been at great pains to bring a worthy company against us +this day. Surely if all should chance to perish there will be few noble +houses in Brittany who will not mourn." + +"Nay, we have none of the highest of Brittany," Beaumanoir answered. +"Neither a Blois, nor a Leon, nor a Rohan, nor a Conan, fights in our +ranks this day. And yet we are all men of blood and coat-armor, who are +ready to venture our persons for the desire of our ladies and the love +of the high order of knighthood. And now, Richard, what is your sweet +will concerning this fight?" + +"That we continue until one or other can endure no longer, for since it +is seldom that so many brave men draw together it is fitting that we see +as much as is possible of each other." + +"Richard, your words are fair and good. It shall be even as you say. For +the rest, each shall fight as pleases him best from the time that the +herald calls the word. If any man from without shall break in upon us he +shall be hanged on yonder oak." + +With a salute he drew down his visor and returned to his own men, who +were kneeling in a twinkling, many colored group whilst the old bishop +gave them his blessing. + +The heralds rode round with a warning to the spectators. Then they +halted at the side of the two bands of men who now stood in a long line +facing each other with fifty yards of grass between. The visors had been +closed, and every man was now cased in metal from head to foot, some few +glowing in brass, the greater number shining in steel. Only their fierce +eyes could be seen smoldering in the dark shadow of their helmets. So +for an instant they stood glaring and crouching. + +Then with a loud cry of "Allez!" the herald dropped his upraised hand, +and the two lines of men shuffled as fast as their heavy armor would +permit until they met with a sharp clang of metal in the middle of the +field. There was a sound as of sixty smiths working upon their anvils. +Then the babel of yells and shouts from the spectators, cheering on this +party or that, rose and swelled until even the uproar of the combat was +drowned in that mighty surge. + +So eager were the combatants to engage that in a few moments all order +had been lost and the two bands were mixed up in one furious scrambling, +clattering throng, each man tossed hither and thither, thrown against +one adversary and then against another, beaten and hustled and buffeted, +with only the one thought in his mind to thrust with his spear or to +beat with his ax against anyone who came within the narrow slit of +vision left by his visor. + +But alas for Nigel and his hopes of some great deed! His was at least +the fate of the brave, for he was the first to fall. With a high heart +he had placed himself in the line as nearly opposite to Beaumanoir as he +could, and had made straight for the Breton leader, remembering that in +the out set the quarrel had been so ordered that it lay between them. +But ere he could reach his goal he was caught in the swirl of his own +comrades, and being the lighter man was swept aside and dashed into the +arms of Alain de Karanais, the left-handed swordsman, with such a crash +that the two rolled upon the ground together. Light footed as a cat, +Nigel had sprung up first, and was stooping over the Breton Squire when +the powerful dwarf Raguenel brought his mace thudding down upon the +exposed back of his helmet. With a groan Nigel fell upon his face, blood +gushing from his mouth, nose, and ears. There he lay, trampled over by +either party, while that great fight for which his fiery soul had panted +was swaying back and forward above his unconscious form. + +But Nigel was not long unavenged. The huge iron club of Belford struck +the dwarf Raguenel to the ground, while Belford in turn was felled by a +sweeping blow from Beaumanoir. Sometimes a dozen were on the ground at +one time, but so strong was the armor, and so deftly was the force of a +blow broken by guard and shield, that the stricken men were often pulled +to their feet once more by their comrades, and were able to continue the +fight. + +Some, however, were beyond all aid. Croquart had cut at a Breton knight +named Jean Rousselot and had shorn away his shoulder-piece, exposing +his neck and the upper part of his arm. Vainly he tried to cover this +vulnerable surface with his shield. It was his right side, and he could +not stretch it far enough across, nor could he get away on account of +the press of men around him. For a time he held his foemen at bay, but +that bare patch of white shoulder was a mark for every weapon, until at +last a hatchet sank up to the socket in the knight's chest. Almost at +the same moment a second Breton, a young Squire named Geoffrey Mellon, +was slain by a thrust from Black Simon which found the weak spot beneath +the armpit. Three other Bretons, Evan Cheruel, Caro de Bodegat, and +Tristan de Pestivien, the first two knights and the latter a squire, +became separated from their comrades, and were beaten to the ground +with English all around them, so that they had to choose between instant +death and surrender. They handed their swords to Bambro' and stood +apart, each of them sorely wounded, watching with hot and bitter hearts +the melee which still surged up and down the field. + +But now the combat had lasted half an hour without stint or rest, until +the warriors were so exhausted with the burden of their armor, the loss +of blood, the shock of blows, and their own furious exertions, that they +could scarce totter or raise their weapons. There must be a pause if the +combat was to have any decisive end. "Cessez! Cessez! Retirez!" cried +the heralds, as they spurred their horses between the exhausted men. + +Slowly the gallant Beaumanoir led the twenty-five men who were left +to their original station, where they opened their visors and threw +themselves down upon the grass, panting like weary dogs, and wiping the +sweat from their bloodshot eyes. A pitcher of wine of Anjou was carried +round by a page, and each in turn drained a cup, save only Beaumanoir +who kept his Lent with such strictness that neither food nor drink might +pass his lips before sunset. He paced slowly amongst his men, croaking +forth encouragement from his parched lips and pointing out to them that +among the English there was scarce a man who was not wounded, and some +so sorely that they could hardly stand. If the fight so far had gone +against them, there were still five hours of daylight, and much might +happen before the last of them was laid upon his back. + +Varlets had rushed forth to draw away the two dead Bretons, and a brace +of English archers had carried Nigel from the field. With his own hands +Aylward had unlaced the crushed helmet and had wept to see the bloodless +and unconscious face of his young master. He still breathed, however, +and stretched upon the grass by the riverside the bowman tended him with +rude surgery, until the water upon his brow and the wind upon his face +had coaxed back the life into his battered frame. He breathed with heavy +gasps, and some tinge of blood crept hack into his cheeks, but still +he lay unconscious of the roar of the crowd and of that great struggle +which his comrades were now waging once again. + +The English had lain for a space bleeding and breathless, in no better +case than their rivals, save that they were still twenty-nine in number. +But of this muster there were not nine who were hale men, and some were +so weak from loss of blood that they could scarce keep standing. Yet, +when the signal was at last given to reengage there was not a man upon +either side who did not totter to his feet and stagger forward toward +his enemies. + +But the opening of this second phase of the combat brought one great +misfortune and discouragement to the English. Bambro' like the others, +had undone his visor, but with his mind full of many cares he had +neglected to make it fast again. There was an opening an inch broad +betwixt it and the beaver. As the two lines met the left-handed Breton +squire, Alain de Karanais, caught sight of Bambro's face, and in an +instant thrust his short spear through the opening. The English leader +gave a cry of pain and fell on his knees, but staggered to his feet +again, too weak to raise his shield. As he stood exposed the Breton +knight, Geoffrey Dubois the Strong, struck him such a blow with his +ax that he beat in the whole breast-plate with the breast behind it. +Bambro' fell dead upon the ground and for a few minutes a fierce fight +raged round his body. + +Then the English drew back, sullen and dogged, bearing Bambro' with +them, and the Bretons, breathing hard, gathered again in their own +quarter. At the same instant the three prisoners picked up such weapons +as were scattered upon the grass and ran over to join their own party. + +"Nay, nay!" cried Knolles, raising his visor and advancing. "This may +not be. You have been held to mercy when we might have slain you, and +by the Virgin I will hold you dishonored, all three, if you stand not +back." + +"Say not so, Robert Knolles," Evan Cheruel answered. "Never yet has +the word dishonor been breathed with my name, but I should count myself +faineant if I did not fight beside my comrades when chance has made it +right and proper that I should do so." + +"By Saint Cadoc! he speaks truly," croaked Beaumanoir, advancing in +front of his men. "You are well aware, Robert, that it is the law of +war and the usage of chivalry that if the knight to whom you have +surrendered is himself slain the prisoners thereby become released." + +There was no answer to this and Knolles, weary and spent, returned to +his comrades. "I would that we had slain them," said he. "We have lost +our leader and they have gained three men by the same stroke." + +"If any more lay down their arms it is my order that you slay them +forthwith," said Croquart, whose bent sword and bloody armor showed how +manfully he had borne himself in the fray. "And now, comrades, do not +be heavy-hearted because we have lost our leader. Indeed, his rhymes +of Merlin have availed him little. By the three kings of Almain! I can +teach you what is better than an old woman's prophecies, and that is +that you should keep your shoulders together and your shields so close +that none can break between them. Then you will know what is on either +side of you, and you can fix your eyes upon the front. Also, if any be +so weak or wounded that he must sink his hands his comrades on right and +left can bear him up. Now advance all together in God's name, for the +battle is still ours if we bear ourselves like men." + +In a solid line the English advanced, while the Bretons ran forward +as before to meet them. The swiftest of these was a certain Squire, +Geoffrey Poulart, who bore a helmet which was fashioned as a cock's +head, with high comb above, and long pointed beak in front pierced with +the breathing-holes. He thrust with his sword at Calverly, but Belford +who was the next in the line raised his giant club and struck him a +crushing blow from the side. He staggered, and then pushing forth from +the crowd, he ran round and round in circles as one whose brain is +stricken, the blood dripping from the holes of his brazen beak. So for +a long time he ran, the crowd laughing and cock-crowing at the sight, +until at last he stumbled and fell stone-dead upon his face. But the +fighters had seen nothing of his fate, for desperate and unceasing was +the rush of the Bretons and the steady advance of the English line. + +For a time it seemed as if nothing would break it, but gap-toothed +Beaumanoir was a general as well as a warrior. Whilst his weary, +bleeding, hard-breathing men still flung themselves upon the front of +the line, he himself with Raguenel, Tentiniac, Alain de Karanais, and +Dubois rushed round the flank and attacked the English with fury +from behind. There was a long and desperate melee until once more the +heralds, seeing the combatants stand gasping and unable to strike a +blow, rode in and called yet another interval of truce. + +But in those few minutes whilst they had been assaulted upon both +sides, the losses of the English party had been heavy. The Anglo-Breton +D'Ardaine had fallen before Beaumanoir's sword, but not before he had +cut deeply into his enemy's shoulder. Sir Thomas Walton, Richard of +Ireland one of the Squires, and Hulbitee the big peasant had all fallen +before the mace of the dwarf Raguenel or the swords of his companions. +Some twenty men were still left standing upon either side, but all were +in the last state of exhaustion, gasping, reeling, hardly capable of +striking a blow. + +It was strange to see them as they staggered with many a lurch and +stumble toward each other once again, for they moved like drunken men, +and the scales of their neck-armor and joints were as red as fishes' +gills when they raised them They left foul wet footprints behind them +on the green grass as they moved forward once more to their endless +contest. + +Beaumanoir, faint with the drain of his blood and with a tongue of +leather, paused as he advanced. "I am fainting, comrades," he cried. "I +must drink." + +"Drink your own blood, Beaumanoir!" cried Dubois, and the weary men all +croaked together in dreadful laughter. + +But now the English had learned from experience, and under the guidance +of Croquart they fought no longer in a straight line, but in one so +bent that at last it became a circle. As the Bretons still pushed and +staggered against it they thrust it back on every side, until they had +turned it into the most dangerous formation of all, a solid block of +men, their faces turned outward, their weapons bristling forth to meet +every attack. Thus the English stood, and no assault could move them. +They could lean against each other back to back while they waited and +allowed their foemen to tire themselves out. Again and again the gallant +Bretons tried to make a way through. Again and again they were beaten +back by a shower of blows. + +Beaumanoir, his head giddy with fatigue, opened his helmet and gazed in +despair at this terrible, unbreakable circle. Only too clearly he could +see the inevitable result. His men were wearing themselves out. Already +many of them could scarce stir hand or foot, and might be dead for any +aid which they could give him in winning the fight. Soon all would be in +the same plight. Then these cursed English would break their circle to +swarm over his helpless men and to strike them down. Do what he might, +he could see no way by which such an end might be prevented. He cast his +eyes round in his agony, and there was one of his Bretons slinking away +to the side of the lists. He could scarce credit his senses when he +saw by the scarlet and silver that the deserter was his own well-tried +squire, William of Montaubon. + +"William! William!" he cried. "Surely you would not leave me?" + +But the other's helmet was closed and he could hear nothing. Beaumanoir +saw that he was staggering away as swiftly as he could. With a cry of +bitter despair, he drew into a knot as many of his braves as could still +move, and together they made a last rush upon the English spears. This +time he was firmly resolved, deep in his gallant soul, that he would +come no foot back, but would find his death there amongst his foemen +or carve a path into the heart of their ranks. The fire in his breast +spread from man to man of his followers, and amid the crashing of blows +they still locked themselves against the English shields and drove hard +for an opening in their ranks. + +But all was vain! Beaumanoir's head reeled. His senses were leaving him. +In another minute he and his men would have been stretched senseless +before this terrible circle of steel, when suddenly the whole array +fell in pieces before his eyes, his enemies Croquart, Knolles, Calverly, +Belford, all were stretched upon the ground together, their weapons +dashed from their hands and their bodies too exhausted to rise. The +surviving Bretons had but strength to fall upon them dagger in hands, +and to wring from them their surrender with the sharp point stabbing +through their visors. Then victors and vanquished lay groaning and +panting in one helpless and blood-smeared heap. + +To Beaumanoir's simple mind it had seemed that at the supreme moment the +Saints of Brittany had risen at their country's call. Already, as he +lay gasping, his heart was pouring forth its thanks to his patron Saint +Cadoc. But the spectators had seen clearly enough the earthly cause of +this sudden victory, and a hurricane of applause from one side, with +a storm of hooting from the other showed how different was the emotion +which it raised in minds which sympathized with the victors or the +vanquished. + +William of Montaubon, the cunning squire, had made his way across to +the spot where the steeds were tethered, and had mounted his own great +roussin. At first it was thought that he was about to ride from the +field, but the howl of execration from the Breton peasants changed +suddenly to a yell of applause and delight as he turned the beast's head +for the English circle and thrust his long prick spurs into its side. +Those who faced him saw this sudden and unexpected appearance. Time was +when both horse and rider must have winced away from the shower of their +blows. But now they were in no state to meet such a rush. They could +scarce raise their arms. Their blows were too feeble to hurt this mighty +creature. In a moment it had plunged through the ranks, and seven of +them were on the grass. It turned and rushed through them again, leaving +five others helpless beneath its hoofs. No need to do more! Already +Beaumanoir and his companions were inside the circle, the prostrate men +were helpless, and Josselin had won. + +That night a train of crestfallen archers, bearing many a prostrate +figure, marched sadly into Ploermel Castle. Behind them rode ten men, +all weary, all wounded, and all with burning hearts against William of +Montaubon for the foul trick that he had served them. + +But over at Josselin, yellow gorse-blossoms in their helmets, the +victors were borne in on the shoulders of a shouting mob, amid the +fanfare of trumpets and the beating of drums. Such was the combat of +the Midway Oak, where brave men met brave men, and such honor was gained +that from that day he who had fought in the Battle of the Thirty was +ever given the highest place and the post of honor, nor was it easy +for any man to pretend to have been there, for it has been said by that +great chronicler who knew them all, that not one on either side failed +to carry to his grave the marks of that stern encounter. + + + + +XXIV. HOW NIGEL WAS CALLED TO HIS MASTER + + +"My sweet ladye," wrote Nigel in a script which it would take the eyes +of love to read, "there hath been a most noble meeting in the fourth +sennight of Lent betwixt some of our own people and sundry most worthy +persons of this country, which ended, by the grace of our Lady, in so +fine a joust that no man living can call to mind so fair an occasion. +Much honor was gained by the Sieurde Beaumanoir and also by an Almain +named Croquart, with whom I hope to have some speech when I am hale +again, for he is a most excellent person and very ready to advance +himself or to relieve another from a vow. For myself I had hoped, with +Godde's help, to venture that third small deed which might set me free +to haste to your sweet side, but things have gone awry with me, and I +early met with such scathe and was of so small comfort to my friends +that my heart is heavy within me, and in sooth I feel that I have lost +honor rather than gained it. Here I have lain since the Feast of the +Virgin, and here I am like still to be, for I can move no limb, save +only my hand; but grieve not, sweet lady, for Saint Catharine hath been +our friend since in so short a time I had two such ventures as the Red +Ferret and the intaking of the Reaver's fortalice. It needs but one more +deed, and sickerly when I am hale once more it will not be long ere I +seek it out. Till then, if my eyes may not rest upon you, my heart at +least is ever at thy feet." + +So he wrote from his sick-room in the Castle of Ploermel late in the +summer, but yet another summer had come before his crushed head had +mended and his wasted limbs had gained their strength once more. With +despair he heard of the breaking of the truce, and of the fight at +Mauron in which Sir Robert Knolles and Sir Walter Bentley crushed the +rising power of Brittany--a fight in which many of the thirty champions +of Josselin met their end. Then, when with renewed strength and high +hopes in his heart he went forth to search for the famous Croquart who +proclaimed himself ever ready night or day to meet any man with any +weapon, it was only to find that in trying the paces of his new horse +the German had been cast into a ditch and had broken his neck. In the +same ditch perished Nigel's last chance of soon accomplishing that deed +which should free him from his vow. + +There was truce once more over all Christendom, and mankind was sated +with war, so that only in far-off Prussia, where the Teutonic knights +waged ceaseless battle with the Lithuanian heathen, could he hope to +find his heart's desire. But money and high knightly fame were needed +ere a man could go upon the northern crusade, and ten years were yet +to pass ere Nigel should look from the battlements of Marienberg on +the waters of the Frische Haff, or should endure the torture of the hot +plate when bound to the Holy Woden stone of Memel. Meanwhile, he chafed +his burning soul out through the long seasons of garrison life in +Brittany, broken only by one visit to the chateau of the father of +Raoul, when he carried to the Lord of Grosbois the news of how his son +had fallen like a gallant gentleman under the gateway of La Brohiniere. + +And then, then at last, when all hope was well-nigh dead in his heart, +there came one glorious July morning which brought a horseman bearing +a letter to the Castle of Vannes, of which Nigel now was seneschal. It +contained but few words, short and clear as the call of a war-trumpet. +It was Chandos who wrote. He needed his Squire at his side, for his +pennon was in the breeze once more. He was at Bordeaux. The Prince was +starting at once for Bergerac, whence he would make a great raid into +France. It would not end without a battle. They had sent word of their +coming, and the good French King had promised to be at great pains to +receive them. Let Nigel hasten at once. If the army had left, then let +him follow after with all speed. Chandos had three other squires, but +would very gladly see his fourth once again, for he had heard much of +him since he parted, and nothing which he might not have expected to +hear of his father's son. Such was the letter which made the summer sun +shine brighter and the blue sky seem of a still fairer blue upon that +happy morning in Vannes. + +It is a weary way from Vannes to Bordeaux. Coastwise ships are hard to +find, and winds blow north when all brave hearts would fain be speeding +south. A full month has passed from the day when Nigel received his +letter before he stood upon the quay-side of the Garonne amid the +stacked barrels of Gascon wine and helped to lead Pommers down the +gang-planks. Not Aylward himself had a worse opinion of the sea than +the great yellow horse, and he whinnied with joy as he thrust his muzzle +into his master's outstretched hand, and stamped his ringing hoofs upon +the good firm cobblestones. Beside him, slapping his tawny shoulder in +encouragement, was the lean spare form of Back Simon who had remained +ever under Nigel's pennon. + +But Aylward, where was he? Alas! two years before he and the whole of +Knolles' company of archers had been drafted away on the King's service +to Guienne, and since he could not write the Squire knew not whether he +was alive or dead. Simon, indeed, had thrice heard of him from wandering +archers, each time that he was alive and well and newly married, but as +the wife in one case was a fair maid, and in another a dark, while in +the third she was a French widow, it was hard to know the truth. + +Already the army had been gone a month, but news of it came daily to +the town, and such news as all men could read, for through the landward +gates there rolled one constant stream of wagons, pouring down the +Libourne Road, and bearing the booty of Southern France. The town was +full of foot-soldiers, for none but mounted men had been taken by the +Prince. With sad faces and longing eyes they watched the passing of the +train of plunder-laden carts, piled high with rich furniture, silks, +velvets, tapestries, carvings, and precious metals, which had been the +pride of many a lordly home in fair Auvergne or the wealthy Bourbonnais. + +Let no man think that in these wars England alone was face to face with +France alone. There is glory and to spare without trifling with the +truth. Two Provinces in France, both rich and warlike, had become +English through a royal marriage, and these, Guienne and Gascony, +furnished many of the most valiant soldiers under the island flag. +So poor a country as England could not afford to keep a great force +overseas, and so must needs have lost the war with France through want +of power to uphold the struggle. The feudal system enabled an army to be +drawn rapidly together with small expense, but at the end of a few weeks +it dispersed again as swiftly, and only by a well-filled money-chest +could it be held together. There was no such chest in England, and the +King was forever at his wits' end how to keep his men in the field. + +But Guienne and Gascony were full of knights and squires who were always +ready to assemble from their isolated castles for a raid into France, +and these with the addition of those English cavaliers who fought for +honor, and a few thousand of the formidable archers, hired for fourpence +a day, made an army with which a short campaign could be carried on. +Such were the materials of the Prince's force, some eight thousand +strong, who were now riding in a great circle through Southern France, +leaving a broad wale of blackened and ruined country behind them. + +But France, even with her southwestern corner in English hands, was +still a very warlike power, far richer and more populous than her rival. +Single Provinces were so great that they were stronger than many a +kingdom. Normandy in the north, Burgundy in the east, Brittany in the +west and Languedoc in the south were each capable of fitting out a great +army of their own. Therefore the brave and spirited John, watching from +Paris this insolent raid into his dominions, sent messengers in hot +haste to all these great feudatories as well as to Lorraine, Picardy, +Auvergne, Hainault, Vermandois, Champagne, and to the German mercenaries +over his eastern border, bidding all of them to ride hard, with bloody +spur, day and night, until they should gather to a head at Chartres. + +There a great army had assembled early in September, whilst the Prince, +all unconscious of its presence sacked towns and besieged castles from +Bourges to Issodun, passing Romorautin, and so onward to Vierzon and to +Tours. From week to week there were merry skirmishes at barriers, brisk +assaults of fortresses in which much honor was won, knightly meetings +with detached parties of Frenchmen and occasional spear-runnings where +noble champions deigned to venture their persons. Houses, too, were +to be plundered, while wine and women were in plenty. Never had either +knights or archers had so pleasant and profitable an excursion, so that +it was with high heart and much hope of pleasant days at Bordeaux with +their pockets full of money that the army turned south from the Loire +and began to retrace its steps to the seaboard city. + +But now its pleasant and martial promenade changed suddenly to very +serious work of war. As the Prince moved south he found that all +supplies had been cleared away from in front of him and that there was +neither fodder for the horses nor food for the men. Two hundred wagons +laden with spoil rolled at the head of the army, but the starving +soldiers would soon have gladly changed it all for as many loads of +bread and of meat. The light troops of the French had preceded then and +burned or destroyed everything that could be of use. Now also for the +first time the Prince and his men became aware that a great army was +moving upon the eastern side of them, streaming southward in the hope of +cutting off their retreat to the sea. The sky glowed with their fires +at night, and the autumn sun twinkled and gleamed from one end of the +horizon to the other upon the steel caps and flashing weapons of a +mighty host. + +Anxious to secure his plunder, and conscious that the levies of France +were far superior in number to his own force, the Prince redoubled his +attempts to escape; but his horses were exhausted and his starving men +were hardly to be kept in order. A few more days would unfit them +for battle. Therefore, when he found near the village of Maupertuis a +position in which a small force might have a chance to hold its own, he +gave up the attempt to outmarch his pursuers, and he turned at bay, like +a hunted boar, all tusks and eyes of flame. + +Whilst these high events had been in progress, Nigel with Black Simon +and four other men-at-arms from Bordeaux, was hastening northward to +join the army. As far as Bergerac they were in a friendly land, but +thence onward they rode over a blackened landscape with many a roofless +house, its two bare gable-ends sticking upward--a "Knolles' miter" as +it was afterward called when Sir Robert worked his stern will upon the +country. For three days they rode northward, seeing many small parties +of French in all directions, but too eager to reach the army to ease +their march in the search of adventures. + +Then at last after passing Lusignan they began to come in touch with +English foragers, mounted bowmen for the most part, who were endeavoring +to collect supplies either for the army or for themselves. From them +Nigel learned that the Prince, with Chandos ever at his side, was +hastening south and might be met within a short day's march. As he still +advanced these English stragglers became more and more numerous, until +at last he overtook a considerable column of archers moving in the same +direction as his own party. These were men whose horses had failed them +and who had therefore been left behind on the advance, but were now +hastening to be in time for the impending battle. A crowd of peasant +girls accompanied them upon their march, and a whole train of laden +mules were led beside them. + +Nigel and his little troop of men-at-arms were riding past the archers +when Black Simon with a sudden exclamation touched his leader upon the +arm. + +"See yonder, fair sir," he cried, with gleaming eyes, "there where the +wastrel walks with the great fardel upon his back! Who is he who marches +behind him?" + +Nigel looked, and was aware of a stunted peasant who bore upon his +rounded back an enormous bundle very much larger than himself. Behind +him walked a burly broad-shouldered archer, whose stained jerkin and +battered headpiece gave token of long and hard service. His bow was +slung over his shoulder, and his arms were round the waists of two buxom +Frenchwomen, who tripped along beside him with much laughter and many +saucy answers flung back over their shoulders to a score of admirers +behind them. + +"Aylward!" cried Nigel, spurring forward. + +The archer turned his bronzed face, stared for an instant with wild +eyes, and then, dropping his two ladies, who were instantly carried off +by his comrades, he rushed to seize the hand which his young master held +down to him. "Now, by my hilt, Squire Nigel, this is the fairest sight +of my lifetime!" he cried. "And you, old leather-face! Nay, Simon, I +would put my arms round your dried herring of a body, if I could but +reach you. Here is Pommers too, and I read in his eye that he knows me +well and is as ready to put his teeth into me as when he stood in my +father's stall." + +It was like a whiff of the heather-perfumed breezes of Hankley to see +his homely face once more. Nigel laughed with sheer joy as he looked at +him. + +"It was an ill day when the King's service called you from my side," +said he, "and by Saint Paul! I am right glad to set eyes upon you once +more! I see well that you are in no wise altered, but the same Aylward +that I have ever known. But who is this varlet with the great bundle who +waits upon your movements?" + +"It is no less than a feather-bed, fair sir, which he bears upon his +back, for I would fain bring it to Tilford, and yet it is overlarge for +me when I take my place with my fellows in the ranks. But indeed this +war has been a most excellent one, and I have already sent half a +wagonload of my gear back to Bordeaux to await my homecoming. Yet I have +my fears when I think of all the rascal foot-archers who are waiting +there, for some folk have no grace or honesty in their souls, and cannot +keep their hands from that which belongs to another. But if I may throw +my leg over yonder spare horse I will come on with you, fair sir, for +indeed it would be joy to my heart to know that I was riding under your +banner once again." + +So Aylward, having given instructions to the bearer of his feather-bed, +rode away in spite of shrill protests from his French companions, who +speedily consoled themselves with those of his comrades who seemed to +have most to give. Nigel's party was soon clear of the column of archers +and riding hard in the direction of the Prince's army. They passed by a +narrow and winding track, through the great wood of Nouaille, and found +before them a marshy valley down which ran a sluggish stream. Along its +farther bank hundreds of horses were being watered, and beyond was +a dense block of wagons. Through these the comrades passed, and then +topped a small mound from which the whole strange scene lay spread +before them. + +Down the valley the slow stream meandered with marshy meadows on +either side. A mile or two lower a huge drove of horses were to be seen +assembled upon the bank. They were the steeds of the French cavalry, +and the blue haze of a hundred fires showed where King John's men were +camping. In front of the mound upon which they stood the English line +was drawn, but there were few fires, for indeed, save their horses, +there was little for them to cook. Their right rested upon the river, +and their array stretched across a mile of ground until the left was in +touch with a tangled forest which guarded it from flank attack. In front +was a long thick hedge and much broken ground, with a single deeply +rutted country road cutting through it in the middle. Under the hedge +and along the whole front of the position lay swarms of archers upon the +grass, the greater number slumbering peacefully with sprawling limbs +in the warm rays of the September sun. Behind were the quarters of the +various knights, and from end to end flew the banners and pennons marked +with the devices of the chivalry of England and Guienne. + +With a glow in his heart Nigel saw those badges of famous captains and +leaders and knew that now at last he also might show his coat-armor in +such noble company. There was the flag of Jean Grailly, the Captal de +Buch, five silver shells on a black cross, which marked the presence of +the most famous soldier of Gascony, while beside it waved the red lion +of the noble Knight of Hainault, Sir Eustace d'Ambreticourt. These two +coats Nigel knew, as did every warrior in Europe, but a dense grove of +pennoned lances surrounded them, bearing charges which were strange +to him, from which he understood that these belonged to the Guienne +division of the army. Farther down the line the famous English ensigns +floated on the wind, the scarlet and gold of Warwick, the silver star +of Oxford, the golden cross of Suffolk, the blue and gold of Willoughby, +and the gold-fretted scarlet of Audley. In the very center of them all +was one which caused all others to pass from his mind, for close to the +royal banner of England, crossed with the label of the Prince, there +waved the war-worn flag with the red wedge upon the golden field which +marked the quarters of the noble Chandos. + +At the sight Nigel set spurs to his horse, and a few minutes later had +reached the spot. Chandos, gaunt from hunger and want of sleep, but +with the old fire lurking in his eye, was standing by the Prince's tent, +gazing down at what could be seen of the French array, and heavy with +thought. Nigel sprang from his horse and was within touch of his master +when the silken hanging of the royal tent was torn violently aside and +Edward rushed out. + +He was without his armor and clad in a sober suit of black, but the high +dignity of his bearing and the imperious anger which flushed his +face proclaimed the leader and the Prince. At his heels was a little +white-haired ecclesiastic in a flowing gown of scarlet sendal, +expostulating and arguing in a torrent of words. + +"Not another word, my Lord Cardinal," cried the angry prince. "I have +listened to you overlong, and by God's dignity! that which you say is +neither good nor fair in my ears. Hark you, John, I would have your +counsel. What think you is the message which my Lord Cardinal of +Perigord has carried from the King of France? He says that of his +clemency he will let my army pass back to Bordeaux if we will restore +to him all that we have taken, remit all ransoms, and surrender my own +person with that of a hundred nobles of England and Guienne to be held +as prisoners. What think you, John?" + +Chandos smiled. "Things are not done in that fashion," said he. + +"But my Lord Chandos," cried the Cardinal, "I have made it clear to the +Prince that indeed it is a scandal to all Christendom and a cause of +mocking to the heathen, that two great sons of the Church should turn +their swords thus upon each other." + +"Then bid the King of France keep clear of us," said the Prince. + +"Fair son, you are aware that you are in the heart of his country and +that it standeth not aright that he should suffer you to go forth as you +came. You have but a small army, three thousand bowmen and five thousand +men-at-arms at the most, who seem in evil case for want of food and +rest. The King has thirty thousand men at his back, of which twenty +thousand are expert men-at-arms. It is fitting therefore that you make +such terms as you may, lest worse befall." + +"Give my greetings to the King of France and tell him that England will +never pay ransom for me. But it seems to me, my Lord Cardinal, that you +have our numbers and condition very ready upon your tongue, and I +would fain know how the eye of a Churchman can read a line of battle +so easily. I have seen that these knights of your household have walked +freely to and fro within our camp, and I much fear that when I welcomed +you as envoys I have in truth given my protection to spies. How say you, +my Lord Cardinal?" + +"Fair Prince, I know not how you can find it in your heart or conscience +to say such evil words." + +"There is this red-bearded nephew of thine, Robert de Duras. See where +he stands yonder, counting and prying. Hark hither, young sir! I have +been saying to your uncle the Cardinal that it is in my mind that you +and your comrades have carried news of our dispositions to the French +King. How say you?" + +The knight turned pale and sank his eyes. "My lord," he murmured, "it +may be that I have answered some questions." + +"And how will such answers accord with your honor, seeing that we have +trusted you since you came in the train of the Cardinal?" + +"My lord, it is true that I am in the train of the Cardinal, and yet +I am liege man of King John and a knight of France, so I pray you to +assuage your wrath against me." + +The Prince ground his teeth and his piercing eyes blazed upon the youth. +"By my father's soul! I can scarce forbear to strike you to the earth! +But this I promise you, that if you show that sign of the Red Griffin +in the field and if you be taken alive in to-morrow's battle, your head +shall most assuredly be shorn from your shoulders." + +"Fair son, indeed you speak wildly," cried the Cardinal. "I pledge you +my word that neither my nephew Robert nor any of my train will take part +in the battle. And now I leave you, sire, and may God assoil your soul, +for indeed in all this world no men stand in greater peril than you and +those who are around you, and I rede you that you spend the night +in such ghostly exercises as may best prepare you for that which may +befall." So saying the Cardinal bowed, and with his household walking +behind him set off for the spot where they had left their' horses, +whence they rode to the neighboring Abbey. + +The angry Prince turned upon his heel and entered his tent once more, +whilst Chandos, glancing round, held out a warm welcoming hand to Nigel. + +"I have heard much of your noble deeds," said he. "Already your name +rises as a squire errant. I stood no higher, nor so high, at your age." + +Nigel flushed with pride and pleasure. "Indeed, my dear lord, it is very +little that I have done. But now that I am back at your side I hope that +in truth I shall learn to bear myself in worthy fashion, for where else +should I win honor if it be not under your banner." + +"Truly, Nigel, you have come at a very good time for advancement. I +cannot see how we can leave this spot without a great battle which will +live in men's minds forever. In all our fights in France I cannot call +to mind any in which they have been so strong or we so weak as now, so +that there will be the more honor to be gained. I would that we had +two thousand more archers. But I doubt not that we shall give them much +trouble ere they drive us out from amidst these hedges. Have you seen +the French?" + +"Nay, fair sir, I have but this moment arrived." + +"I was about to ride forth myself to coast their army and observe their +countenance, so come with me ere the night fall, and we shall see what +we can of their order and dispositions." + +There was a truce betwixt the two forces for the day, on account of the +ill-advised and useless interposition of the Cardinal of Perigord, Hence +when Chandos and Nigel had pushed their horses through the long hedge +which fronted the position they found that many small parties of the +knights of either army were riding up and down on the plain outside. The +greater number of these groups were French, since it was very necessary +for them to know as much as possible of the English defenses; and many +of their scouts had ridden up to within a hundred yards of the hedge, +where they were sternly ordered back by the pickets of archers on guard. + +Through these scattered knots of horsemen Chandos rode, and as many of +them were old antagonists it was "Ha, John!" on the one side, and "Ha, +Raoul!" "Ha, Nicholas!" "Ha, Guichard!" upon the other, as they brushed +past them. Only one cavalier greeted them amiss, a large, red-faced man, +the Lord Clermont, who by some strange chance bore upon his surcoat a +blue virgin standing amid golden sunbeams, which was the very device +which Chandos had donned for the day. The fiery Frenchman dashed across +their path and drew his steed back on to its haunches. + +"How long is it, my Lord Chandos," said he hotly, "since you have taken +it upon yourself to wear my arms?" + +Chandos smiled. "It is surely you who have mine," said he, "since this +surcoat was worked for thee by the good nuns of Windsor a long year +ago." + +"If it were not for the truce," said Clermont, "I would soon show you +that you have no right to wear it." + +"Look for it then in the battle to-morrow, and I also will look for +yours," Chandos answered. "There we can very honorably settle the +matter." + +But the Frenchman was choleric and hard to appease. "You English can +invent nothing," said he, "and you take for your own whatever you see +handsome belonging to others." So, grumbling and fuming, he rode upon +his way, while Chandos, laughing gayly, spurred onward across the plain. + +The immediate front of the English line was shrouded with scattered +trees and bushes which hid the enemy; but when they had cleared these a +fair view of the great French army lay before them. In the center of +the huge camp was a long and high pavilion of red silk, with the silver +lilies of the King at one end of it, and the golden oriflamme, the +battle-flag of old France, at the other. Like the reeds of a pool from +side to side of the broad array, and dwindling away as far as their +eyes could see, were the banners and pennons of high barons and famous +knights, but above them all flew the ducal standards which showed that +the feudal muster of all the warlike provinces of France was in the +field before them. + +With a kindling eye Chandos looked across at the proud ensigns of +Normandy, or Burgundy, of Auvergne, of Champagne, of Vermandois, and +of Berry, flaunting and gleaming in the rays of the sinking sun. Riding +slowly down the line he marked with attentive gaze the camp of the +crossbowmen, the muster of the German mercenaries, the numbers of the +foot-soldiers, the arms of every proud vassal or vavasor which might +give some guide as to the power of each division. From wing to wing and +round the flanks he went, keeping ever within crossbow-shot of the +army, and then at last having noted all things in his mind he turned his +horse's head and rode slowly back, heavy with thought, to the English +lines. + + + + +XXV. HOW THE KING OF FRANCE HELD COUNSEL AT MAUPERTUIS + + +The morning of Sunday, the nineteenth of September, in the year of our +Lord 1356, was cold and fine. A haze which rose from the marshy valley +of Muisson covered both camps and set the starving Englishmen shivering, +but it cleared slowly away as the sun rose. In the red silken pavilion +of the French King--the same which had been viewed by Nigel and Chandos +the evening before--a solemn mass was held by the Bishop of Chalons, who +prayed for those who were about to die, with little thought in his mind +that his own last hour was so near at hand. Then, when communion had +been taken by the King and his four young sons the altar was cleared +away, and a great red-covered table placed lengthwise down the tent, +round which John might assemble his council and determine how best he +should proceed. With the silken roof, rich tapestries of Arras round +the walls and Eastern rugs beneath the feet, his palace could furnish no +fairer chamber. + +King John, who sat upon the canopied dais at the upper end, was now in +the sixth year of his reign and the thirty-sixth of his life. He was a +short burly man, ruddy-faced and deep-chested, with dark kindly eyes and +a most noble bearing. It did not need the blue cloak sewed with silver +lilies to mark him as the King. Though his reign had been short, his +fame was already widespread over all Europe as a kindly gentleman and a +fearless soldier--a fit leader for a chivalrous nation. His elder son, +the Duke of Normandy, still hardly more than a boy, stood beside him, +his hand upon the King's shoulder, and John half turned from time to +time to fondle him. On the right, at the same high dais, was the King's +younger brother, the Duke of Orleans, a pale heavy-featured man, with a +languid manner and intolerant eyes. On the left was the Duke of Bourbon, +sad-faced and absorbed, with that gentle melancholy in his eyes and +bearing which comes often with the premonition of death. All these were +in their armor, save only for their helmets, which lay upon the board +before them. + +Below, grouped around the long red table, was an assembly of the most +famous warriors in Europe. At the end nearest the King was the veteran +soldier the Duke of Athens, son of a banished father, and now High +Constable of France. On one side of him sat the red-faced and choleric +Lord Clermont, with the same blue Virgin in golden rays upon his surcoat +which had caused his quarrel with Chandos the night before. On the other +was a noble-featured grizzly-haired soldier, Arnold d'Andreghen, who +shared with Clermont the honor of being Marshal of France. Next to them +sat Lord James of Bourbon, a brave warrior who was afterwards slain by +the White Company at Brignais, and beside him a little group of German +noblemen, including the Earl of Salzburg and the Earl of Nassau, who +had ridden over the frontier with their formidable mercenaries at the +bidding of the French King. The ridged armor and the hanging nasals of +their bassinets were enough in themselves to tell every soldier that +they were from beyond the Rhine. At the other side of the table were a +line of proud and warlike Lords, Fiennes, Chatillon, Nesle, de Landas, +de Beaujeu, with the fierce knight errant de Chargny, he who had planned +the surprise of Calais, and Eustace de Ribeaumont, who had upon the same +occasion won the prize of valor from the hands of Edward of England. +Such were the chiefs to whom the King now turned for assistance and +advice. + +"You have already heard, my friends," said he, "that the Prince of Wales +has made no answer to the proposal which we sent by the Lord Cardinal of +Perigord. Certes this is as it should be, and though I have obeyed the +call of Holy Church I had no fears that so excellent a Prince as Edward +of England would refuse to meet us in battle. I am now of opinion that +we should fall upon them at once, lest perchance the Cardinal's cross +should again come betwixt our swords and our enemies." + +A buzz of joyful assent arose from the meeting, and even from the +attendant men-at-arms who guarded the door. When it had died away the +Duke of Orleans rose in his place beside the King. + +"Sire," said he, "you speak as we would have you do, and I for one am of +opinion that the Cardinal of Perigord has been an ill friend of France, +for why should we bargain for a part when we have but to hold out our +hand in order to grasp the whole? What need is there for words? Let us +spring to horse forthwith and ride over this handful of marauders who +have dared to lay waste your fair dominions. If one of them go hence +save as our prisoner we are the more to blame." + +"By Saint Denis, brother!" said the King, smiling, "if words could slay +you would have had them all upon their backs ere ever we left Chartres. +You are new to war, but when you have had experience of a stricken field +or two you would know that things must be done with forethought and in +order or they may go awry. In our father's time we sprang to horse and +spurred upon these English at Crecy and elsewhere as you advise, but +we had little profit from it, and now we are grown wiser. How say you, +Sieur de Ribeaumont? You have coasted their lines and observed their +countenance. Would you ride down upon them, as my brother has advised, +or how would you order the matter?" + +De Ribeaumont, a tall dark-eyed handsome man, paused ere he answered. +"Sire," he said at last, "I have indeed ridden along their front and +down their flanks, in company with Lord Landas and Lord de Beaujeu, who +are here at your council to witness to what I say. Indeed, sire, it is +in my mind that though the English are few in number yet they are +in such a position amongst these hedges and vines that you would be +well-advised if you were to leave them alone, for they have no food and +must retreat, so that you will be able to follow them and to fight them +to better advantage." + +A murmur of disapproval rose from the company, and the Lord Clermont, +Marshal of the army, sprang to his feet, his face red with anger. + +"Eustace; Eustace," said he, "I bear in mind the days when you were of +great heart and high enterprise, but since King Edward gave you yonder +chaplet of pearls you have ever been backward against the English!" + +"My Lord Clermont," said de Ribeaumont sternly, "it is not for me to +brawl at the King's council and in the face of the enemy, but we will +go further into this matter at some other time. Meanwhile, the King has +asked me for my advice and I have given it as best I might." + +"It had been better for your honor, Sir Eustace, had you held your +peace," said the Duke of Orleans. "Shall we let them slip from our +fingers when we have them here and are fourfold their number? I know not +where we should dwell afterwards, for I am very sure that we should be +ashamed to ride back to Paris, or to look our ladies in the eyes again." + +"Indeed, Eustace, you have done well to say what is in your mind," +said the King; "but I have already said that we shall join battle this +morning, so that there is no room here for further talk. But I would +fain have heard from you how it would be wisest and best that we attack +them?" + +"I will advise you, sire, to the best of my power. Upon their right is a +river with marshes around it, and upon their left a great wood, so that +we can advance only upon the center. Along their front is a thick hedge, +and behind it I saw the green jerkins of their archers, as thick as the +sedges by the river. It is broken by one road where only four horsemen +could ride abreast, which leads through the position. It is clear then +that if we are to drive them back we must cross the great hedge, and +I am very sure that the horses will not face it with such a storm of +arrows beating from behind it. Therefore, it is my council that we fight +upon foot, as the English did at Crecy, for indeed we may find that our +horses will be more hindrance than help to us this day." + +"The same thought was in my own mind, sire," said Arnold d'Andreghen the +veteran Marshal. "At Crecy the bravest had to turn their backs, for what +can a man do with a horse which is mad with pain and fear? If we advance +upon foot we are our own masters, and if we stop the shame is ours." + +"The counsel is good," said the Duke of Athens, turning his shrewd +wizened face to the King; "but one thing only I would add to it. The +strength of these people lies in their archers, and if we could throw +them into disorder, were it only for a short time, we should win the +hedge; else they will shoot so strongly that we must lose many men +before we reach it, for indeed we have learned that no armor will keep +out their shafts when they are close." + +"Your words, fair sir, are both good and wise," said the King, "but I +pray you to tell us how you would throw these archers into disorder?" + +"I would choose three hundred horsemen, sire, the best and most forward +in the army. With these I would ride up the narrow road, and so turn +to right and left, falling upon the archers behind the hedge. It may be +that the three hundred would suffer sorely, but what are they among so +great a host, if a road may be cleared for their companions?" + +"I would say a word to that, sire," cried the German Count of Nassau, "I +have come here with my comrades to venture our persons in your quarrel; +but we claim the right to fight in our own fashion, and we would count +it dishonor to dismount from our steeds out of fear of the arrows of the +English. Therefore, with your permission, we will ride to the front, +as the Duke of Athens has advised, and so clear a path for the rest of +you." + +"This may not be!" cried the Lord Clermont angrily. "It would be strange +indeed if Frenchmen could not be found to clear a path for the army of +the King of France. One would think to hear you talk, my Lord Count, +that your hardihood was greater than our own, but by our Lady of +Rocamadour you will learn before nightfall that it is not so. It is for +me, who am a Marshal of France; to lead these three hundred, since it is +an honorable venture." + +"And I claim the same right for the same reason," said Arnold of +Andreghen. + +The German Count struck the table with his mailed fist. "Do what you +like!" said he. "But this only I can promise you, that neither I nor +any of my German riders will descend from our horses so long as they are +able to carry us, for in our country it is only people of no consequence +who fight upon their feet." + +The Lord Clermont was leaning angrily forward with some hot reply when +King John intervened. "Enough, enough!" he said. "It is for you to give +your opinions, and for me to tell you what you will do. Lord Clermont, +and you, Arnold, you will choose three hundred of the bravest cavaliers +in the army and you will endeavor to break these archers. As to you and +your Germans, my Lord Nassau, you will remain upon horseback, since you +desire it, and you will follow the Marshals and support them as best +you may. The rest of the army will advance upon foot, in three other +divisions as arranged: yours, Charles," and he patted his son, the Duke +of Normandy, affectionately upon the hand; "yours, Philip," he glanced +at the Duke of Orleans; "and the main battle which is my own. To you, +Geoffrey de Chargny, I intrust the oriflamme this day. But who is this +knight and what does he desire?" + +A young knight, ruddy-bearded and tall, a red griffin upon his surcoat, +had appeared in the opening of the tent. His flushed face and disheveled +dress showed that he had come in haste. "Sire," said he, "I am Robert +de Duras, of the household of the Cardinal de Perigord. I have told you +yesterday all that I have learned of the English camp. This morning I +was again admitted to it, and I have seen their wagons moving to the +rear. Sire, they are in flight for Bordeaux." + +"'Fore God, I knew it!" cried the Duke of Orleans in a voice of fury. +"Whilst we have been talking they have slipped through our fingers. Did +I not warn you?" + +"Be silent, Philip!" said the King angrily. "But you, sir, have you seen +this with your own eyes?" + +"With my own eyes, sire, and I have ridden straight from their camp." + +King John looked at him with a stern gaze. "I know not how it accords +with your honor to carry such tidings in such a fashion," said he; "but +we cannot choose but take advantage of it. Fear not, brother Philip, +it is in my mind that you will see all that you would wish of the +Englishmen before nightfall. Should we fall upon them whilst they cross +the ford it will be to our advantage. Now, fair sirs, I pray you to +hasten to your posts and to carry out all that we have agreed. Advance +the oriflamme, Geoffrey, and do you marshal the divisions, Arnold. So +may God and Saint Denis have us in their holy keeping this day!" + +The Prince of Wales stood upon that little knoll where Nigel had halted +the day before. Beside him were Chandos, and a tall sun-burned warrior +of middle age, the Gascon Captal de Buch. The three men were all +attentively watching the distant French lines, while behind them a +column of wagons wound down to the ford of the Muisson. + +Close in the rear four knights in full armor with open visors sat their +horses and conversed in undertones with each other. A glance at their +shields would have given their names to any soldier, for they were all +men of fame who had seen much warfare. At present they were awaiting +their orders, for each of them commanded the whole or part of a division +of the army. The youth upon the left, dark, slim and earnest, was +William Montacute, Earl of Salisbury, only twenty-eight years of age and +yet a veteran of Crecy. How high he stood in reputation is shown by the +fact that the command of the rear, the post of honor in a retreating +army, had been given to him by the Prince. He was talking to a grizzled +harsh-faced man, somewhat over middle age, with lion features and fierce +light-blue eyes which gleamed as they watched the distant enemy. It was +the famous Robert de Ufford, Earl of Suffolk, who had fought without a +break from Cadsand onward through the whole Continental War. The other +tall silent soldier, with the silver star gleaming upon his surcoat, +was John de Vere, Earl of Oxford, and he listened to the talk of Thomas +Beauchamp, a burly, jovial, ruddy nobleman and a tried soldier, who +leaned forward and tapped his mailed hand upon the other's steel-clad +thigh. They were old battle-companions, of the same age and in the very +prime of life, with equal fame and equal experience of the wars. Such +was the group of famous English soldiers who sat their horses behind the +Prince and waited for their orders. + +"I would that you had laid hands upon him," said the Prince angrily, +continuing his conversation with Chandos, "and yet, perchance, it was +wiser to play this trick and make them think that we were retreating." + +"He has certainly carried the tidings," said Chandos, with a smile. "No +sooner had the wagons started than I saw him gallop down the edge of the +wood." + +"It was well thought of, John," the Prince remarked, "for it would +indeed be great comfort if we could turn their own spy against them. +Unless they advance upon us, I know not how we can hold out another +day, for there is not a loaf left in the army; and yet if we leave this +position where shall we hope to find such another?" + +"They will stoop, fair sir, they will stoop to our lure. Even now Robert +de Duras will be telling them that the wagons are on the move, and they +will hasten to overtake us lest we pass the ford. But who is this, who +rides so fast? Here perchance may be tidings." + +A horseman had spurred up to the knoll. He sprang from the saddle, and +sank on one knee before the Prince. + +"How now, my Lord Audley," said Edward. "What would you have?" + +"Sir," said the knight, still kneeling with bowed head before his +leader, "I have a boon to ask of you." + +"Nay, James, rise! Let me hear what I can do." + +The famous knight errant, pattern of chivalry for all time; rose and +turned his swarthy face and dark earnest eyes upon his master. "Sir," +said he, "I have ever served most loyally my lord your father and +yourself, and shall continue so to do so long as I have life. Dear sir, +I must now acquaint you that formerly I made a vow if ever I should be +in any battle under your command that I would be foremost or die in the +attempt. I beg therefore that you will graciously permit me to honorably +quit my place among the others, that I may post myself in such wise as +to accomplish my vow." + +The Prince smiled, for it was very sure that vow or no vow, permission +or no permission, Lord James Audley would still be in the van. "Go, +James," said he, shaking his hand, "and God grant that this day you may +shine in valor above all knights. But hark, John, what is that?" + +Chandos cast up his fierce nose like the eagle which smells slaughter +afar. "Surely, sir, all is forming even as we had planned it." + +From far away there came a thunderous shout. Then another and yet +another. + +"See, they are moving!" cried the Captal de Buch. + +All morning they had watched the gleam of the armed squadrons who +were drawn up in front of the French camp. Now whilst a great blare +of trumpets was borne to their ears, the distant masses flickered and +twinkled in the sunlight. + +"Yes, yes, they are moving!" cried the Prince. + +"They are moving! They are moving!" Down the line the murmur ran. And +then with a sudden impulse the archers at the hedge sprang to their feet +and the knights behind them waved their weapons in the air, while +one tremendous shout of warlike joy carried their defiance to the +approaching enemy. Then there fell such a silence that the pawing of the +horses or the jingle of their harness struck loud upon the ear, until +amid the hush there rose a low deep roar like the sound of the tide upon +the beach, ever growing and deepening as the host of France drew near. + + + + +XXVI. HOW NIGEL FOUND HIS THIRD DEED + + +Four archers lay behind a clump of bushes ten yards in front of the +thick hedge which shielded their companions. Amid the long line of +bowmen those behind them were their own company, and in the main the +same who were with Knolles in Brittany. The four in front were their +leaders: old Wat of Carlisle, Ned Widdington the red-headed Dalesman, +the bald bowyer Bartholomew, and Samkin Alyward, newly rejoined after a +week's absence. All four were munching bread and apples, for Aylward had +brought in a full haversack and divided them freely amongst his +starving comrades. The old Borderer and the Yorkshireman were gaunt and +hollow-eyed with privation, while the bowyer's round face had fallen in +so that the skin hung in loose pouches under his eyes and beneath his +jaws. + +Behind them lines of haggard, wolfish men glared through the underwood, +silent and watchful save that they burst into a fierce yelp of welcome +when Chandos and Nigel galloped up, sprang from their horses and took +their station beneath them. All along the green fringe of bowmen might +be seen the steel-clad figures of knights and squires who had pushed +their way into the front line to share the fortune of the archers. + +"I call to mind that I once shot six ends with a Kentish woldsman at +Ashford--" began the Bowyer. + +"Nay, nay, we have heard that story!" said old Wat impatiently. "Shut +thy clap, Bartholomew, for it is no time for redeless gossip! Walk down +the line, I pray you, and see if there be no frayed string, nor broken +nock nor loosened whipping to be mended." + +The stout bowyer passed down the fringe of bowmen, amidst a running fire +of rough wit. Here and there a bow was thrust out at him through the +hedge for his professional advice. + +"Wax your heads!" he kept crying. "Pass down the wax-pot and wax your +heads. A waxed arrow will pass where a dry will be held. Tom Beverley, +you jack-fool! where is your bracer-guard? Your string will flay your +arm ere you reach your up-shot this day. And you, Watkin, draw not to +your mouth, as is your wont, but to your shoulder. You are so used to +the wine-pot that the string must needs follow it. Nay, stand loose, and +give space for your drawing arms, for they will be on us anon." + +He ran back and joined his comrades in the front, who had now risen to +their feet. Behind them a half-mile of archers stood behind the hedge, +each with his great warbow strung, half a dozen shafts loose behind him, +and eighteen more in the quiver slung across his front. With arrow +on string, their feet firm-planted, their fierce eager faces peering +through the branches, they awaited the coming storm. + +The broad flood of steel, after oozing slowly forward, had stopped about +a mile from the English front. The greater part of the army had then +descended from their horses, while a crowd of varlets and hostlers led +them to the rear. The French formed themselves now into three great +divisions, which shimmered in the sun like silvery pools, reed-capped +with many a thousand of banners and pennons. A space of several hundred +yards divided each. At the same time two bodies of horsemen formed +themselves in front. The first consisted of three hundred men in one +thick column, the second of a thousand, riding in a more extended line. + +The Prince had ridden up to the line of archers. He was in dark armor, +his visor open, and his handsome aquiline face all glowing with spirit +and martial fire. The bowmen yelled at him, and he waved his hands to +them as a huntsman cheers his hounds. + +"Well, John, what think you now?" he asked. "What would my noble father +not give to be by our side this day? Have you seen that they have left +their horses?" + +"Yes, my fair lord, they have learned their lesson," said Chandos. +"Because we have had good fortune upon our feet at Crecy and elsewhere +they think that they have found the trick of it. But it is in my mind +that it is very different to stand when you are assailed, as we have +done, and to assail others when you must drag your harness for a mile +and come weary to the fray." + +"You speak wisely, John. But these horsemen who form in front and ride +slowly towards us, what make you of them?" + +"Doubtless they hope to cut the strings of our bowmen and so clear a way +for the others. But they are indeed a chosen band, for mark you, +fair sir, are not those the colors of Clermont upon the left, and +of d'Andreghen upon the right, so that both marshals ride with the +vanguard?" + +"By God's soul, John!" cried the Prince, "it is very sure that you can +see more with one eye than any man in this army with two. But it is even +as you say. And this larger band behind?" + +"They should be Germans, fair sir, by the fashion of their harness." + +The two bodies of horsemen had moved slowly over the plain, with a +space of nearly a quarter of a mile between them. Now, having come two +bowshots from the hostile line, they halted. All that they could see +of the English was the long hedge, with an occasional twinkle of steel +through its leafy branches, and behind that the spear-heads of the +men-at-arms rising from amidst the brushwood and the vines. A lovely +autumn countryside with changing many-tinted foliage lay stretched +before them, all bathed in peaceful sunshine, and nothing save those +flickering fitful gleams to tell of the silent and lurking enemy who +barred their way. But the bold spirit of the French cavaliers rose the +higher to the danger. The clamor of their war-cries filled the air, +and they tossed their pennoned spears over their heads in menace and +defiance. From the English line it was a noble sight, the gallant, +pawing, curveting horses, the many-colored twinkling riders, the swoop +and wave and toss of plume and banner. + +Then a bugle rang forth. With a sudden yell every spur struck deep, +every lance was laid in rest, and the whole gallant squadron flew like a +glittering thunderbolt for the center of the English line. + +A hundred yards they had crossed, and yet another hundred, but there +was no movement in front of them, and no sound save their own hoarse +battle-cries and the thunder of their horses. Ever swifter and swifter +they flew. From behind the hedge it was a vision of horses, white, +bay and black, their necks stretched, their nostrils distended, their +bellies to the ground, whilst of the rider one could but see a shield +with a plume-tufted visor above it, and a spear-head twinkling in front. + +Then of a sudden the Prince raised his hand and gave a cry. Chandos +echoed it, it swelled down the line, and with one mighty chorus of +twanging strings and hissing shafts the long-pent storm broke at last. + +Alas for the noble steeds! Alas for the gallant men. When the lust of +battle is over who would not grieve to see that noble squadron break +into red ruin before the rain of arrows beating upon the faces and +breasts of the horses? The front rank crashed down, and the others piled +themselves upon the top of them, unable to check their speed, or to +swerve aside from the terrible wall of their shattered comrades which +had so suddenly sprung up before them. Fifteen feet high was that +blood-spurting mound of screaming, kicking horses and writhing, +struggling men. Here and there on the flanks a horseman cleared himself +and dashed for the hedge, only to have his steed slain under him and to +be hurled from his saddle. Of all the three hundred gallant riders, not +one ever reached that fatal hedge. + +But now in a long rolling wave of steel the German battalion roared +swiftly onward. They opened in the center to pass that terrible mound +of death, and then spurred swiftly in upon the archers. They were brave +men, well led, and in their open lines they could avoid the clubbing +together which had been the ruin of the vanguard; yet they perished +singly even as the others had perished together. A few were slain by the +arrows. The greater number had their horses killed under them, and were +so shaken and shattered by the fall that they could not raise their +limbs, over-weighted with iron, from the spot where they lay. + +Three men riding together broke through the bushes which sheltered the +leaders of the archers, cut down Widdington the Dalesman, spurred onward +through the hedge, dashed over the bowmen behind it, and made for the +Prince. One fell with an arrow through his head, a second was beaten +from his saddle by Chandos, and the third was slain by the Prince's own +hand. A second band broke through near the river, but were cut off by +Lord Audley and his squires, so that all were slain. A single horseman +whose steed was mad with pain, an arrow in its eye and a second in its +nostril, sprang over the hedge and clattered through the whole army, +disappearing amid whoops and laughter into the woods behind. But none +others won as far as the hedge. The whole front of the position was +fringed with a litter of German wounded or dead, while one great heap in +the center marked the downfall of the gallant French three hundred. + +Whilst these two waves of the attack had broken in front of the English +position, leaving this blood-stained wreckage behind them, the main +divisions had halted and made their last preparations for their own +assault. They had not yet begun their advance, and the nearest was still +half a mile distant, when the few survivors from the forlorn hope, their +maddened horses bristling with arrows, flew past them on either flank. + +At the same moment the English archers and men-at-arms dashed through +the hedge, and dragged all who were living out of that tangled heap of +shattered horses and men. It was a mad wild rush, for in a few minutes +the fight must be renewed, and yet there was a rich harvest of wealth +for the lucky man who could pick a wealthy prisoner from amid the crowd. +The nobler spirits disdained to think of ransoms whilst the fight was +still unsettled; but a swarm of needy soldiers, Gascons and English, +dragged the wounded out by the leg or the arm, and with daggers at their +throats demanded their names, title and means. He who had made a good +prize hurried him to the rear where his own servants could guard him, +while he who was disappointed too often drove the dagger home and then +rushed once more into the tangle in the hope of better luck. Clermont, +with an arrow through the sky-blue Virgin on his surcoat, lay dead +within ten paces of the hedge; d'Andreghen was dragged by a penniless +squire from under a horse and became his prisoner. The Earl of Salzburg +and of Nassau were both found helpless on the ground and taken to the +rear. Aylward cast his thick arms round Count Otto von Langenbeck, and +laid him, helpless from a broken leg, behind his bush. Black Simon had +made prize of Bernard, Count of Ventadour, and hurried him through +the hedge. Everywhere there was rushing and shouting, brawling and +buffeting, while amidst it all a swarm of archers were seeking their +shafts, plucking them from the dead, and sometimes even from the +wounded. Then there was a sudden cry of warning. In a moment every man +was back in his place once more, and the line of the hedge was clear. + +It was high time; for already the first division of the French was close +upon them. If the charge of the horsemen had been terrible from its rush +and its fire, this steady advance of a huge phalanx of armored footmen +was even more fearsome to the spectator. They moved very slowly, on +account of the weight of their armor, but their progress was the more +regular and inexorable. With elbows touching--their shields slung in +front, their short five-foot spears carried in their right hands, +and their maces or swords ready at their belts, the deep column of +men-at-arms moved onward. Again the storm of arrows beat upon them +clinking and thudding on the armor. They crouched double behind their +shields as they met it. Many fell, but still the slow tide lapped +onward. Yelling, they surged up to the hedge, and lined it for half a +mile, struggling hard to pierce it. + +For five minutes the long straining ranks faced each other with fierce +stab of spear on one side and heavy beat of ax or mace upon the other. +In many parts the hedge was pierced or leveled to the ground, and the +French men-at-arms were raging amongst the archers, hacking and hewing +among the lightly armed men. For a moment it seemed as if the battle was +on the turn. + +But John de Vere, Earl of Oxford, cool, wise and crafty in war, saw and +seized his chance. On the right flank a marshy meadow skirted the river. +So soft was it that a heavily-armed man would sink to his knees. At his +order a spray of light bowmen was thrown out from the battle line and +forming upon the flank of the French poured their arrows into them. At +the same moment Chandos, with Audley, Nigel, Bartholomew Burghersh, the +Captal de Buch, and a score of other knights sprang upon their horses, +and charging down the narrow lane rode over the French line in front of +them. Once through it they spurred to left and right, trampling down the +dismounted men-at-arms. + +A fearsome sight was Pommers that day, his red eyes rolling, his +nostrils gaping, his tawny mane tossing, and his savage teeth gnashing +in fury, as he tore and smashed and ground beneath his ramping hoofs +all that came before him. Fearsome too was the rider, ice-cool; alert, +concentrated of purpose, with, heart of fire and muscles of steel. A +very angel of battle he seemed as he drove his maddened horse through +the thickest of the press, but strive as he would: the tall figure of +his master upon his coal-black steed was ever half a length before him. + +Already the moment of danger was passed. The French line had given back. +Those who had pierced the hedge had fallen like brave men amid the +ranks of their foemen. The division of Warwick had hurried up from the +vineyards to fill the gaps of Salisbury's battle-line. Back rolled the +shining tide, slowly at first, even as it had advanced, but quicker +now as the bolder fell and the weaker shredded out and shuffled with +ungainly speed for a place of safety. Again there was a rush from behind +the hedge. Again there was a reaping of that strange crop of bearded +arrows which grew so thick upon the ground, and again the wounded +prisoners were seized and dragged in brutal haste to the rear. Then the +line was restored, and the English, weary, panting and shaken, awaited +the next attack. + +But a great good fortune had come to them--so great that as they looked +down the valley they could scarce credit their own senses. Behind the +division of the Dauphin, which had pressed them so hard, stood a second +division hardly less numerous, led by the Duke of Orleans. The fugitives +from in front, blood-smeared and bedraggled, blinded with sweat and with +fear, rushed amidst its ranks in their flight, and in a moment, without +a blow being struck, had carried them off in their wild rout. This vast +array, so solid and so martial, thawed suddenly away like a snow-wreath +in the sun. It was gone, and in its place thousands of shining dots +scattered over the whole plain as each man made his own way to the spot +where he could find his horse and bear himself from the field. For a +moment it seemed that the battle was won, and a thundershout of joy +pealed up from the English line. + +But as the curtain of the Duke's division was drawn away it was only to +disclose stretching far behind it, and spanning the valley from side +to side, the magnificent array of the French King, solid, unshaken, and +preparing its ranks for the attack. Its numbers were as great as those +of the English army; it was unscathed by all that was past, and it had a +valiant monarch to lead it to the charge. With the slow deliberation of +the man who means to do or to die, its leader marshaled its ranks for +the supreme effort of the day. + +Meanwhile during that brief moment of exultation when the battle +appeared to be won, a crowd of hot-headed young knights and squires +swarmed and clamored round the Prince, beseeching that he would allow +them to ride forth. + +"See this insolent fellow who bears three martlets upon a field gales!" +cried Sir Maurice Berkeley. "He stands betwixt the two armies as though +he had no dread of us." + +"I pray you, sir, that I may ride out to him, since he seems ready to +attempt some small deed," pleaded Nigel. + +"Nay, fair sirs, it is an evil thing that we should break our line, +seeing that we still have much to do," said the Prince. "See! he rides +away, and so the matter is settled." + +"Nay, fair prince," said the young knight who had spoken first. "My gray +horse, Lebryte, could run him down ere he could reach shelter. Never +since I left Severn side have I seen steed so fleet as mine. Shall I +not show you?" In an instant he had spurred the charger and was speeding +across the plain. + +The Frenchman, John de Helennes, a squire of Picardy, had waited with a +burning heart, his soul sick at the flight of the division in which he +had ridden. In the hope of doing some redeeming exploit, or of meeting +his own death, he had loitered betwixt the armies, but no movement had +come from the English lines. Now he had turned his horse's head to join +the King's array, when the low drumming of hoofs sounded behind him, +and he turned to find a horseman hard upon his heels. Each had drawn his +sword, and the two armies paused to view the fight. In the first bout +Sir Maurice Berkeley's lance was struck from his hand, and as he sprang +down to recover it the Frenchman ran him through the thigh, dismounted +from his horse, and received his surrender. As the unfortunate +Englishman hobbled away at the side of his captor a roar of laughter +burst from both armies at the spectacle. + +"By my ten finger-bones!" cried Aylward, chuckling behind the remains +of his bush, "he found more on his distaff that time than he knew how to +spin. Who was the knight?" + +"By his arms," said old Wat, "he should either be a Berkeley of the West +or a Popham of Kent." + +"I call to mind that I shot a match of six ends once with a Kentish +woldsman--" began the fat Bowyer. + +"Nay, nay, stint thy talk, Bartholomew!" cried old Wat. "Here is poor +Ned with his head cloven, and it would be more fitting if you were +saying aves for his soul, instead of all this bobance and boasting. Now, +now, Tom of Beverley?" + +"We have suffered sorely in this last bout, Wat. There are forty of our +men upon their backs, and the Dean Foresters on the right are in worse +case still." + +"Talking will not mend it, Tom, and if all but one were on their backs +he must still hold his ground." + +Whilst the archers were chatting, the leaders of the army were in +solemn conclave just behind them. Two divisions of the French had been +repulsed, and yet there was many an anxious face as the older knights +looked across the plain at the unbroken array of the French King +moving slowly toward them. The line of the archers was much thinned and +shredded. Many knights and squires had been disabled in the long and +fierce combat at the hedge. Others, exhausted by want of food, had no +strength left and were stretched panting upon the ground. Some were +engaged in carrying the wounded to the rear and laying them under the +shelter of the trees, whilst others were replacing their broken swords +or lances from the weapons of the slain. The Captal de Buch, brave and +experienced as he was, frowned darkly and whispered his misgivings to +Chandos. + +But the Prince's courage flamed the higher as the shadow fell, while his +dark eyes gleamed with a soldier's pride as he glanced round him at his +weary comrades, and then at the dense masses of the King's battle which +now, with a hundred trumpets blaring and a thousand pennons waving, +rolled slowly over the plain. "Come what may, John, this has been a most +noble meeting," said he. "They will not be ashamed of us in England. +Take heart, my friends, for if we conquer we shall carry the glory ever +with us; but if we be slain then we die most worshipfully and in high +honor, as we have ever prayed that we might die, and we leave behind +us our brothers and kinsmen who will assuredly avenge us. It is but one +more effort, and all will be well. Warwick, Oxford, Salisbury, Suffolk, +every man to the front! My banner to the front also! Your horses, fair +sirs! The archers are spent, and our own good lances must win the +field this day. Advance, Walter, and may God and Saint George be with +England!" + +Sir Walter Woodland, riding a high black horse, took station by the +Prince, with the royal banner resting in a socket by his saddle. From +all sides the knights and squires crowded in upon it, until they formed +a great squadron containing the survivors of the battalions of Warwick +and Salisbury as well as those of the Prince. Four hundred men-at-arms +who had been held in reserve were brought up and thickened the array, +but even so Chandos' face was grave as he scanned it and then turned his +eyes upon the masses of the Frenchmen. + +"I like it not, fair sir. The weight is overgreat," he whispered to the +Prince. + +"How would you order it, John? Speak what is in your mind." + +"We should attempt something upon their flank whilst we hold them in +front. How say you, Jean?" He turned to the Captal de Buch, whose dark, +resolute face reflected the same misgivings. + +"Indeed, John, I think as you do," said he. "The French King is a very +valiant man, and so are those who are about him, and I know not how we +may drive them back unless we can do as you advise. If you will give me +only a hundred men I will attempt it." + +"Surely the task is mine, fair sir, since the thought has come from me," +said Chandos. + +"Nay, John, I would keep you at my side. But you speak well, Jean, and +you shall do even as you have said. Go ask the Earl of Oxford for a +hundred men-at-arms and as many hobblers, that you may ride round the +mound yonder, and so fall upon them unseen. Let all that are left of the +archers gather on each side, shoot away their arrows, and then fight +as best they may. Wait till they are past yonder thorn-bush and then, +Walter, bear my banner straight against that of the King of France. Fair +sirs, may God and the thought of your ladies hold high your hearts!" + +The French monarch, seeing that his footmen had made no impression upon +the English, and also that the hedge had been well-nigh leveled to the +ground in the course of the combat, so that it no longer presented an +obstacle, had ordered his followers to remount their horses, and it was +as a solid mass of cavalry that the chivalry of France advanced to +their last supreme effort. The King was in the center of the front +line, Geoffrey de Chargny with the golden oriflamme upon his right, and +Eustace de Ribeaumont with the royal lilies upon the left. At his elbow +was the Duke of Athens, High Constable of France, and round him were the +nobles of the court, fiery and furious, yelling their warcries as they +waved their weapons over their heads. Six thousand gallant men of +the bravest race in Europe, men whose very names are like blasts of +a battle-trumpet--Beaujeus and Chatillons, Tancarvilles and +Ventadours--pressed hard behind the silver lilies. + +Slowly they moved at first, walking their horses that they might be the +fresher for the shock. Then they broke into a trot which was quickening +into a gallop when the remains of the hedge in front of them was +beaten in an instant to the ground and the broad line of the steel-clad +chivalry of England swept grandly forth to the final shock. With loose +rein and busy spur the two lines of horsemen galloped at the top of +their speed straight and hard for each other. An instant later they +met with a thunder-crash which was heard by the burghers on the wall of +Poitiers, seven good miles away. + +Under that frightful impact horses fell dead with broken necks, and many +a rider, held in his saddle by the high pommel, fractured his thighs +with the shock. Here and there a pair met breast to breast, the horses +rearing straight upward and falling back upon their masters. But for the +most part the line had opened in the gallop, and the cavaliers, flying +through the gaps, buried themselves in the enemy's ranks. Then the +flanks shredded out, and the thick press in the center loosened until +there was space to swing a sword and to guide a steed. For ten acres +there was one wild tumultuous swirl of tossing heads, of gleaming +weapons which rose and fell, of upthrown hands, of tossing plumes and +of lifted shields, whilst the din of a thousand war-cries and the +clash-clash of metal upon metal rose and swelled like the roar and beat +of an ocean surge upon a rock-bound coast. Backward and forward swayed +the mighty throng, now down the valley and now up, as each side in turn +put forth its strength for a fresh rally. Locked in one long deadly +grapple, great England and gallant France with iron hearts and souls of +fire strove and strove for mastery. + +Sir Walter Woodland, riding hard upon his high black horse, had plunged +into the swelter and headed for the blue and silver banner of King John. +Close at his heels in a solid wedge rode the Prince, Chandos, Nigel, +Lord Reginald Cobham, Audley with his four famous squires, and a score +of the flower of the English and Gascon knighthood. Holding together and +bearing down opposition by a shower of blows and by the weight of their +powerful horses, their progress was still very slow, for ever fresh +waves of French cavaliers surged up against them and broke in front only +to close in again upon their rear. Sometimes they were swept backward +by the rush, sometimes they gained a few paces, sometimes they could but +keep their foothold, and yet from minute to minute that blue and silver +flag which waved above the press grew ever a little closer. A dozen +furious hard-breathing French knights had broken into their ranks, and +clutched at Sir Walter Woodland's banner, but Chandos and Nigel guarded +it on one side, Audley with his squires on the other, so that no man +laid his hand upon it and lived. + +But now there was a distant crash and a roar of "Saint George for +Guienne!" from behind. The Captal de Buch had charged home. "Saint +George for England!" yelled the main attack, and ever the counter-cry +came back to them from afar. The ranks opened in front of them. The +French were giving way. A small knight with golden scroll-work upon his +armor threw himself upon the Prince and was struck dead by his mace. It +was the Duke of Athens, Constable of France, but none had time to note +it, and the fight rolled on over his body. Looser still were the French +ranks. Many were turning their horses, for that ominous roar from +the rear had shaken their resolution. The little English wedge poured +onward, the Prince, Chandos, Audley and Nigel ever in the van. + +A huge warrior in black, bearing a golden banner, appeared suddenly in +a gap of the shredding ranks. He tossed his precious burden to a squire, +who bore it away. Like a pack of hounds on the very haunch of a deer the +English rushed yelling for the oriflamme. But the black warrior flung +himself across their path. "Chargny! Chargny a la recousse!" he +roared with a voice of thunder. Sir Reginald Cobham dropped before his +battle-ax, so did the Gascon de Clisson. Nigel was beaten down on to +the crupper of his horse by a sweeping blow; but at the same instant +Chandos' quick blade passed through the Frenchman's camail and pierced +his throat. So died Geoffrey de Chargny; but the oriflamme was saved. + +Dazed with the shock, Nigel still kept his saddle, and Pommers, his +yellow hide mottled with blood, bore him onward with the others. The +French horsemen were now in full flight; but one stern group of knights +stood firm, like a rock in a rushing torrent, beating off all, whether +friend or foe, who tried to break their ranks. The oriflamme had gone, +and so had the blue and silver banner, but here were desperate men ready +to fight to the death. In their ranks honor was to be reaped. The Prince +and his following hurled themselves upon them, while the rest of the +English horsemen swept onward to secure the fugitives and to win their +ransoms. But the nobler spirits--Audley, Chandos and the others--would +have thought it shame to gain money whilst there was work to be done or +honor to be won. Furious was the wild attack, desperate the prolonged +defense. Men fell from their saddles for very exhaustion. + +Nigel, still at his place near Chandos' elbow, was hotly attacked by +a short broad-shouldered warrior upon a stout white cob, but Pommers +reared with pawing fore feet and dashed the smaller horse to the ground. +The falling rider clutched Nigel's arm and tore him from the saddle, so +that the two rolled upon the grass under the stamping hoofs, the English +squire on the top, and his shortened sword glimmered before the visor of +the gasping, breathless Frenchman. + +"Je me rends! je axe rends!" he panted. + +For a moment a vision of rich ransoms passed through Nigel's brain. That +noble palfrey, that gold-flecked armor, meant fortune to the captor. Let +others have it! There was work still to be done. How could he desert +the Prince and his noble master for the sake of a private gain? Could +he lead a prisoner to the rear when honor beckoned him to the van? He +staggered to his feet, seized Pommers by the mane, and swung himself +into the saddle. + +An instant later he was by Chandos' side once more and they were +bursting together through the last ranks of the gallant group who had +fought so bravely to the end. Behind them was one long swath of the +dead and the wounded. In front the whole wide plain was covered with the +flying French and their pursuers. + +The Prince reined up his steed and opened his visor, whilst his +followers crowded round him with waving weapons and frenzied shouts +of victory. "What now, John!" cried the smiling Prince, wiping his +streaming face with his ungauntleted hand. "How fares it then?" + +"I am little hurt, fair lord, save for a crushed hand and a spear-prick +in the shoulder. But you, sir? I trust you have no scathe?" + +"In truth, John, with you at one elbow and Lord Audley at the other, I +know not how I could come to harm. But alas! I fear that Sir James is +sorely stricken." + +The gallant Lord Audley had dropped upon the ground and the blood oozed +from every crevice of his battered armor. His four brave Squires--Dutton +of Dutton, Delves of Doddington, Fowlhurst of Crewe and Hawkstone of +Wainhill--wounded and weary themselves, but with no thought save for +their master, unlaced his helmet and bathed his pallid blood-stained +face. + +He looked up at the Prince with burning eyes. "I thank you, sir, for +deigning to consider so poor a knight as myself," said he in a feeble +voice. + +The Prince dismounted and bent over him. "I am bound to honor you very +much, James," said he, "for by your valor this day you have won glory +and renown above us all, and your prowess has proved you to be the +bravest knight." + +"My Lord," murmured the wounded man, "you have a right to say what you +please; but I wish it were as you say." + +"James," said the Prince, "from this time onward I make you a knight +of my own household, and I settle upon you five hundred marks of yearly +income from my own estates in England." + +"Sir," the knight answered, "God make me worthy of the good fortune you +bestow upon me. Your knight I will ever be, and the money I will divide +with your leave amongst these four squires who have brought me whatever +glory I have won this day." So saying his head fell back, and he lay +white and silent upon the grass. + +"Bring water!" said the Prince. "Let the royal leech see to him; for I +had rather lose many men than the good Sir James. Ha, Chandos, what have +we here?" + +A knight lay across the path with his helmet beaten down upon his +shoulders. On his surcoat and shield were the arms of a red griffin. + +"It is Robert de Duras the spy," said Chandos. + +"Well for him that he has met his end," said the angry Prince. "Put him +on his shield, Hubert, and let four archers bear him to the monastery. +Lay him at the feet of the Cardinal and say that by this sign I greet +him. Place my flag on yonder high bush, Walter, and let my tent be +raised there, that my friends may know where to seek me." + +The flight and pursuit had thundered far away, and the field was +deserted save for the numerous groups of weary horsemen who were making +their way back, driving their prisoners before them. The archers were +scattered over the whole plain, rifling the saddle-bags and gathering +the armor of those who had fallen, or searching for their own scattered +arrows. + +Suddenly, however, as the Prince was turning toward the bush which he +had chosen for his headquarters, there broke out from behind him an +extraordinary uproar and a group of knights and squires came pouring +toward him, all arguing, swearing and abusing each other in French and +English at the tops of their voices. In the midst of them limped a stout +little man in gold-spangled armor, who appeared to be the object of the +contention, for one would drag him one way and one another, as though +they would pull him limb from limb. "Nay, fair sirs, gently, gently, I +pray you!" he pleaded. "There is enough for all, and no need to treat me +so rudely." But ever the hubbub broke out again, and swords gleamed as +the angry disputants glared furiously at each other. The Prince's eyes +fell upon the small prisoner, and he staggered back with a gasp of +astonishment. + +"King John!" he cried. + +A shout of joy rose from the warriors around him. "The King of France! +The King of France a prisoner!" they cried in an ecstasy. + +"Nay, nay, fair sirs, let him not hear that we rejoice! Let no word +bring pain to his soul!" Running forward the Prince clasped the French +King by the two hands. + +"Most welcome, sire!" he cried. "Indeed it is good for us that so +gallant a knight should stay with us for some short time, since the +chance of war has so ordered it. Wine there! Bring wine for the King!" + +But John was flushed and angry. His helmet had been roughly torn off, +and blood was smeared upon his cheek. His noisy captors stood around +him in a circle, eying him hungrily like dogs who have been beaten +from their quarry. There were Gascons and English, knights, squires and +archers, all pushing and straining. + +"I pray you, fair Prince, to get rid of these rude fellows," said King +John, "for indeed they have plagued me sorely. By Saint Denis! my arm +has been well-nigh pulled from its socket." + +"What wish you then?" asked the Prince, turning angrily upon the noisy +swarm of his followers. + +"We took him, fair lord. He is ours!" cried a score of voices. They +closed in, all yelping together like a pack of wolves. "It was I, fair +lord!"--"Nay, it was I!"--"You lie, you rascal, it was I!" Again their +fierce eyes glared and their blood-stained hands sought the hilts of +their weapons. + +"Nay, this must be settled here and now!" said the Prince. "I crave your +patience, fair and honored sir, for a few brief minutes, since indeed +much ill-will may spring from this if it be not set at rest. Who is this +tall knight who can scarce keep his hands from the King's shoulder?" + +"It is Denis de Morbecque, my lord, a knight of St. Omer, who is in our +service, being an outlaw from France." + +"I call him to mind. How then, Sir Denis? What say you in this matter?" + +"He gave himself to me, fair lord. He had fallen in the press, and +I came upon him and seized him. I told him that I was a knight from +Artois, and he gave me his glove. See here, I bear it in my hand." + +"It is true, fair lord! It is true!" cried a dozen French voices. + +"Nay, sir, judge not too soon!" shouted an English squire, pushing +his way to the front. "It was I who had him at my mercy, and he is my +prisoner, for he spoke to this man only because he could tell by his +tongue that he was his own countryman. I took him, and here are a score +to prove it." + +"It is true, fair lord. We saw it and it was even so," cried a chorus of +Englishmen. + +At all times there was growling and snapping betwixt the English and +their allies of France. The Prince saw how easily this might set a light +to such a flame as could not readily be quenched. It must be stamped out +now ere it had time to mount. + +"Fair and honored lord," he said to the King, "again I pray you for a +moment of patience. It is your word and only yours which can tell us +what is just and right. To whom were you graciously pleased to commit +your royal person?" + +King John looked up from the flagon which had been brought to him and +wiped his lips with the dawnings of a smile upon his ruddy face. + +"It was not this Englishman," he said, and a cheer burst from the +Gascons, "nor was it this bastard Frenchman," he added. "To neither of +them did I surrender." + +There was a hush of surprise. + +"To whom then, sir?" asked the Prince. + +The King looked slowly round. "There was a devil of a yellow horse," +said he. "My poor palfrey went over like a skittle-pin before a ball. Of +the rider I know nothing save that he bore red roses on a silver +shield. Ah! by Saint Denis, there is the man himself, and there his +thrice-accursed horse!" + +His head swimming, and moving as if in a dream, Nigel found himself the +center of the circle of armed and angry men. + +The Prince laid his hand upon his shoulder. "It is the little cock of +Tilford Bridge," said he. "On my father's soul, I have ever said that +you would win your way. Did you receive the King's surrender?" + +"Nay, fair lord, I did not receive it." + +"Did you hear him give it?" + +"I heard, sir, but I did not know that it was the King. My master Lord +Chandos had gone on, and I followed after." + +"And left him lying. Then the surrender was not complete, and by the +laws of war the ransom goes to Denis de Morbecque, if his story be +true." + +"It is true," said the King. "He was the second." + +"Then the ransom is yours, Denis. But for my part I swear by my father's +soul that I had rather have the honor this Squire has gathered than all +the richest ransoms of France." + +At these words spoken before that circle of noble warriors Nigel's heart +gave one great throb, and he dropped upon his knee before the Prince. +"Fair lord, how can I thank you?" he murmured. "These words at least are +more than any ransom." + +"Rise up!" said the smiling Prince, and he smote with his sword upon +his shoulder. "England has lost a brave Squire, and has gained a gallant +knight. Nay, linger not, I pray! Rise up, Sir Nigel!" + + + + +XXVII. HOW THE THIRD MESSENGER CAME TO COSFORD + + +Two months have passed, and the long slopes of Hindhead are russet with +the faded ferns--the fuzzy brown pelt which wraps the chilling earth. +With whoop and scream the wild November wind sweeps over the great +rolling downs, tossing the branches of the Cosford beeches, and rattling +at the rude latticed windows. The stout old knight of Duplin, grown even +a little stouter, with whiter beard to fringe an ever redder face, sits +as of yore at the head of his own board. A well-heaped platter flanked +by a foaming tankard stands before him. At his right sits the Lady Mary, +her dark, plain, queenly face marked deep with those years of weary +waiting, but bearing the gentle grace and dignity which only sorrow and +restraint can give. On his left is Matthew, the old priest. Long ago +the golden-haired beauty had passed from Cosford to Fernhurst, where +the young and beautiful Lady Edith Brocas is the belle of all Sussex, a +sunbeam of smiles and merriment, save perhaps when her thoughts for an +instant fly back to that dread night when she was plucked from under the +very talons of the foul hawk of Shalford. + +The old knight looked up as a fresh gust of wind with a dash of rain +beat against the window behind him. "By Saint Hubert, it is a wild +night!" said he. "I had hoped to-morrow to have a flight at a heron of +the pool or a mallard in the brook. How fares it with little Katherine +the peregrine, Mary?" + +"I have joined the wing, father, and I have imped the feathers; but I +fear it will be Christmas ere she can fly again." + +"This is a hard saying," said Sir John; "for indeed I have seen no +bolder better bird. Her wing was broken by a heron's beak last Sabbath +sennight, holy father, and Mary has the mending of it." + +"I trust, my son, that you had heard mass ere you turned to worldly +pleasure upon God's holy day," Father Matthew answered. + +"Tut, tut!" said the old knight, laughing. "Shall I make confession at +the head of my own table? I can worship the good God amongst his own +works, the woods and the fields, better than in yon pile of stone and +wood. But I call to mind a charm for a wounded hawk which was taught me +by the fowler of Gaston de Foix. How did it run? 'The lion of the Tribe +of Judah, the root of David, has conquered.' Yes, those were the words +to be said three times as you walk round the perch where the bird is +mewed." + +The old priest shook his head. "Nay, these charms are tricks of the +Devil," said he. "Holy Church lends them no countenance, for they are +neither good nor fair. But how is it now with your tapestry, Lady Mary? +When last I was beneath this roof you had half done in five fair colors +the story of Theseus and Ariadne." + +"It is half done still, holy father." + +"How is this, my daughter? Have you then so many calls?" + +"Nay, holy father, her thoughts are otherwhere," Sir John answered. +"She will sit an hour at a time, the needle in her hand and her soul a +hundred leagues from Cosford House. Ever since the Prince's battle--" + +"Good father, I beg you--" + +"Nay, Mary, none can hear me, save your own confessor, Father Matthew. +Ever since the Prince's battle, I say, when we heard that young Nigel +had won such honor she is brain-wode, and sits ever--well, even as you +see her now." + +An intent look had come into Mary's eyes; her gaze was fixed upon the +dark rain-splashed window. It was a face carved from ivory, white-lipped +and rigid, on which the old priest looked. + +"What is it, my daughter? What do you see?" + +"I see nothing, father." + +"What is it then that disturbs you?" + +"I hear, father." + +"What do you hear?" + +"There are horsemen on the road." + +The old knight laughed. "So it goes on, father. What day is there that a +hundred horsemen do not pass our gate, and yet every clink of hoofs sets +her poor heart a-trembling. So strong and steadfast she has ever been, +my Mary, and now no sound too slight to shake her to the soul! Nay, +daughter, nay, I pray you!" + +She had half-risen from her chair, her hands clenched and her dark, +startled eyes still fixed upon the window. "I hear them, father! I hear +them amid the wind and the rain! Yes, yes, they are turning--they have +turned! My God, they are at our very door!" + +"By Saint Hubert, the girl is right!" cried old Sir John, beating his +fist upon the board. "Ho, varlets, out with you to the yard! Set the +mulled wine on the blaze once more! There are travelers at the gate, +and it is no night to keep a dog waiting at our door. Hurry, Hannekin! +Hurry, I say, or I will haste you with my cudgel!" + +Plainly to the ears of all men could be heard the stamping of the +horses. Mary had stood up, quivering in every limb. An eager step at +the threshold, the door was flung wide, and there in the opening stood +Nigel, the rain gleaming upon his smiling face, his cheeks flushed with +the beating of the wind, his blue eyes shining with tenderness and love. +Something held her by the throat, the light of the torches danced up and +down; but her strong spirit rose at the thought that others should see +that inner holy of holies of her soul. There is a heroism of women to +which no valor of man can attain. Her eyes only carried him her message +as she held out her hand. + +"Welcome, Nigel!" said she. + +He stooped and kissed it. + +"Saint Catharine has brought me home," said he. + +A merry supper it was at Cosford Manor that night, with Nigel at the +head betwixt the jovial old knight and the Lady Mary, whilst at the +farther end Samkin Aylward, wedged between two servant maids, kept his +neighbors in alternate laughter and terror as he told his tales of the +French Wars. Nigel had to turn his doeskin heels and show his little +golden spurs. As he spoke of what was passed Sir John clapped him on the +shoulder, while Mary took his strong right hand in hers, and the good +old priest smiling blessed them both. Nigel had drawn a little golden +ring from his pocket, and it twinkled in the torchlight. + +"Did you say that you must go on your way to-morrow, father?" he asked +the priest. + +"Indeed, fair son, the matter presses." + +"But you may bide the morning?" + +"It will suffice if I start at noon." + +"Much may be done in a morning." He looked at Mary, who blushed and +smiled. "By Saint Paul! I have waited long enough." + +"Good, good!" chuckled the old knight, with wheezy laughter. "Even so I +wooed your mother, Mary. Wooers were brisk in the olden time. To-morrow +is Tuesday, and Tuesday is ever a lucky day. Alas! that the good Dame +Ermyntrude is no longer with us to see it done! The old hound must run +us down, Nigel, and I hear its bay upon my own heels; but my heart will +rejoice that before the end I may call you son. Give me your hand, Mary, +and yours, Nigel. Now, take an old man's blessing, and may God keep and +guard you both, and give you your desert, for I believe on my soul that +in all this broad land there dwells no nobler man nor any woman more +fitted to be his mate!" + +There let us leave them, their hearts full of gentle joy, the golden +future of hope and promise stretching out before their youthful eyes. +Alas for those green spring dreaming! How often do they fade and wither +until they fall and rot, a dreary sight, by the wayside of life! But +here, by God's blessing, it was not so, for they burgeoned and they +grew, ever fairer and more noble, until the whole wide world might +marvel at the beauty of it. + +It has been told elsewhere how as the years passed Nigel's name rose +higher in honor; but still Mary's would keep pace with it, each helping +and sustaining the other upon an ever higher path. In many lands did +Nigel carve his fame, and ever as he returned spent and weary from his +work he drank fresh strength and fire and craving for honor from her +who glorified his home. At Twynham Castle they dwelled for many years, +beloved and honored by all. Then in the fullness of time they came back +to the Tilford Manor-house and spent their happy, healthy age amid those +heather downs where Nigel had passed his first lusty youth, ere ever he +turned his face to the wars. Thither also came Aylward when he had left +the "Pied Merlin" where for many a year he sold ale to the men of the +forest. + +But the years pass; the old wheel turns and ever the thread runs out. +The wise and the good, the noble and the brave, they come from the +darkness, and into the darkness they go, whence, whither and why, who +may say? Here is the slope of Hindhead. The fern still glows russet +in November, the heather still burns red in July; but where now is the +Manor of Cosford? Where is the old house of Tilford? Where, but for a +few scattered gray stones, is the mighty pile of Waverley? And yet +even gnawing Time has not eaten all things away. Walk with me toward +Guildford, reader, upon the busy highway. Here, where the high green +mound rises before us, mark yonder roofless shrine which still stands +foursquare to the winds. It is St. Catharine's, where Nigel and Mary +plighted their faith. Below lies the winding river, and over yonder you +still see the dark Chantry woods which mount up to the bare summit, +on which, roofed and whole, stands that Chapel of the Martyr where the +comrades beat off the archers of the crooked Lord of Shalford. Down +yonder on the flanks of the long chalk hills one traces the road by +which they made their journey to the wars. And now turn hither to the +north, down this sunken winding path! It is all unchanged since Nigel's +day. Here is the Church of Compton. Pass under the aged and crumbling +arch. Before the steps of that ancient altar, unrecorded and unbrassed, +lies the dust of Nigel and of Mary. Near them is that of Maude their +daughter, and of Alleyne Edricson, whose spouse she was; their children +and children's children are lying by their side. Here too, near the +old yew in the churchyard, is the little mound which marks where Samkin +Aylward went back to that good soil from which he sprang. + +So lie the dead leaves; but they and such as they nourish forever that +great old trunk of England, which still sheds forth another crop and +another, each as strong and as fair as the last. The body may lie in +moldering chancel, or in crumbling vault, but the rumor of noble lives, +the record of valor and truth, can never die, but lives on in the +soul of the people. Our own work lies ready to our hands; and yet our +strength may be the greater and our faith the firmer if we spare an +hour from present toils to look back upon the women who were gentle and +strong, or the men who loved honor more than life, on this green stage +of England where for a few short years we play our little part. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Sir Nigel, by Arthur Conan Doyle + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SIR NIGEL *** + +***** This file should be named 2845.txt or 2845.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/4/2845/ + +Produced by An Anonymous Project Gutenberg Volunteer + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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