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diff --git a/49283-8.txt b/49283-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index a3c9551..0000000 --- a/49283-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8442 +0,0 @@ - EDGAR THE READY - - - - -This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world 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 -http://www.gutenberg.org/license. If you are not located in the United -States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you are -located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: Edgar the Ready - A Tale of the Third Edward's Reign -Author: W. P. Shervill -Release Date: June 25, 2015 [EBook #49283] -Language: English -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EDGAR THE READY *** - - - - -Produced by Al Haines. - - - - -[Illustration: Cover art] - - - - - *[Illustration: "ROLAND WAS SAVAGELY ATTACKING HIM IN HIS TURN" - (missing from book)]* - - - - - *Edgar the Ready* - - A Tale of the Third - Edward's Reign - - - BY - - W. P. SHERVILL - - - - _Illustrated by Charles M. Sheldon_ - - - - BLACKIE AND SON LIMITED - LONDON GLASGOW AND BOMBAY - 1914 - - - - - *Contents* - -CHAP. - - I. A Gallant Sacrifice - II. An Ordeal of the Night - III. The Castle of Wolsingham - IV. The Winning of Peter - V. The Fracas - VI. Sir John's Esquire - VII. To Guienne - VIII. The Lists of Bordeaux - IX. The Encounter with Sir Gervaise - X. News of Sir John - XI. In Pursuit - XII. Castle Ruthènes - XIII. Prisoners - XIV. A Desperate Venture - XV. Ill News at Bordeaux - XVI. A New Quest - XVII. The Opening of the Attack - XVIII. The Plight of Beatrice - XIX. The Assault - XX. The Last Hope - XXI. Through the Darkness - XXII. The Last of Ruthènes - XXIII. Sir John's Choice - - - - - *Illustrations* - -"Roland was savagely attacking him in his turn" (missing from book) . . -. _Frontispiece_ - -"Sir Gervaise sprang towards his adversary, thirsting to retrieve his -fallen fortunes" - -"A torch was thrust close to Edgar's face" - -"The torch fell upon the bottom steps, revealing the three crouching -figures" (missing from book) - -"'Bah! These walls laugh thee and thy rabble to scorn!'" - -"'Come, Beatrice, I will strive yet to save thee'" (missing from book) - - - - - *EDGAR THE READY* - - - - *CHAPTER I* - - *A Gallant Sacrifice* - - -"Now, lad, I will tell thee how it cometh that Sir John Chartris hath -sent me down into Devon to seek thee and to bring thee back to his -castle of Wolsingham. The road seemeth less rough and wild, and I can -tell thee all that befell with the more comfort. I would, though, that -I could have brought a spare horse. To have thee riding behind my -saddle smacks of a farmer and his dame rather than of man-at-arms and -fledgeling warrior." - -"No matter, Matthew," replied the soldier's companion, a lad of some -fourteen or fifteen summers, "our road will take us along the borders of -Exmoor, and I have hopes that we may be able to snare or capture one of -the ponies that run wild thereabouts." - -"Perchance. Now, as thou hast already heard, 'twas at Sluys that thy -father met his death--and a right gallant one it was--but of the fashion -of it only rumours have reached thee. - -"I must start at the beginning, and thou wilt then understand the more -thoroughly. Know, then, that the French fleet mustered two hundred sail -and more, many of their ships being of a size unheard of before, while -we could gather little more than half their number. Our ships were -scraped together from the Five Ports and anywhere along the coast where -a stray trader could be found. But I'll warrant thee the sailors of the -Five Ports were little loath to lend their ships for the venture, for -their rivalry with the mariners of the Norman coast is most exceeding -bitter. When all that could be collected had been mustered in array, -our good King Edward III filled them with his men-at-arms and archers, -and we set sail. - -"Not a man of the whole company was more eager to get to grips with the -enemy than Edward; and when we spied, over an intervening neck of land, -a forest of masts clustering in the harbour of Sluys, he was overjoyed. -However, for all his eagerness, he decided to anchor at sea for the -night, and 'twas in the afternoon of the following day--the anniversary -of Bannockburn, mark ye--that we stood in to fight the foe. - -"When they sighted us, the French sailed out a mile or so to meet us, -and then anchored in four great lines across the bay and lashed their -ships firmly together. We found it was a fourfold floating rampart that -we had to assault, but--bah!--little enough shipman or soldier recked of -that! - -"Full speed we bore down on the foremost line of ships and ground into -them, our archers sending a storm of shafts in advance that raked them -through and through. Many of their big ships had platforms high up -filled with Genoese crossbowmen, and loaded with stones to fling down -upon us; but our archers poured in a fire so fierce and fast that those -who survived were glad to escape to deck as best they could. Then came -the turn of knights and men-at-arms, and like a mountain torrent we -poured upon the decks of the Frenchmen's ships. The fighting was hard -and fierce--the struggle of men who had long ached to spring at one -another's throats. - -"But our martial King's gallant example, and the knightly zest of his -nobles, gave an eagerness to our men that soon forced the French, though -they fought right well, to give back, and presently we had mastered the -first line and began to burst through upon the next. 'Twas then -that---- Ah! What have we here?" - -At the sudden exclamation, and the equally sudden reining in of the -steed, the boy, who had been entirely absorbed in his companion's -narrative, glanced quickly ahead to see the cause of the interruption. - -Two men, followed more leisurely by three others, had sprung into the -roadway from behind a pile of rocks where they had been in hiding. They -were men of wild and savage appearance, and bore weapons, which added -not a little to their threatening looks. One man, whose head seemed a -sheer mass of bristling red hair and beard, out of which his eyes -gleamed like live coals, carried a heavy club studded with iron spikes, -and this he swung to and fro as he awaited the coming of the wayfarers. - -"'Tis Red of Ordish!" whispered the lad. "He is known and dreaded for -leagues around. Fly for thy life, Matthew--delay not!" - -The soldier glanced eagerly to right and left. His face fell: rocks -piled in rough confusion, half-hidden by bushes, lined every inch of the -way on either side. It was difficult country to traverse on foot, but -for horsemen it was quite impossible. There was still, however, the way -they had come, and half-turning his horse, the man-at-arms glanced back -along the road. Alas, for his hopes! Another group of men had emerged -into the roadway a few hundred yards behind, and were moving forward to -take the travellers as in a trap! - -"Ha, ha, soldier," cried Red, with a hideous laugh, "thou seest thou art -outwitted! Fling down thy purse and we harm thee not. 'Tis the lord of -the manor, Red of Ordish to wit, who bids thee pay his toll." - -"Give me thy purse, Matthew," cried the boy aloud. He then went on in -an urgent whisper: "Be quick, and I will jump down and hand it to the -robbers whilst thou dost ride slowly past them. They may seek more than -thy purse an they find little in it. I like not their looks or the -tales I have heard of them." - -Slowly and unwillingly the soldier complied, and the lad flung his leg -over the saddle to dismount. As he did so, however, with a quick -movement he slid the contents of the purse into his hand. His movements -were half-hidden by the soldier's back, and that there should be no -chink of money to betray him, he held the purse closely while he secured -the contents. Then he transferred the coins to his wallet, dropped to -the ground, and advanced towards the red robber, purse in hand. - -"We are poor wayfarers," he said in a pleading tone, as he fumbled in -the purse; "will ye not take toll of two silver pennies and let us hie -on our journey?" - -"I will take four silver pennies, my young springald," cried Red of -Ordish, striding forward and reaching out his great hand for the purse. - -The lad retreated as though frightened, and again fumbled as though -unable to find the coins he sought. - -"Yield me the purse," cried the robber, snatching savagely at it. -"Yield it me, boy, or I will clash out thy brains with this club." - -Springing lightly out of the angry ruffian's reach, the boy pretended to -be quite scared, dropping the purse and running after the soldier as -though in a sudden access of terror. - -Ignoring the boy, the leader of the robbers and one or two of his men -made a mad rush for the purse. Red was first, and snatched it eagerly -up; tore it open--and saw that it was empty! With a snarl like a wild -beast, he sprang after the fugitive, shouting madly with inarticulate -rage. - -Abandoning all disguise, the lad now ran with all his speed after the -soldier, who had profited by the preoccupation of the robbers and had -made his way safely past them. - -"On, Matthew, on!" he cried breathlessly as he sprang into the saddle -behind him, and with a shout of angry defiance, Matthew put spurs to his -horse and galloped furiously away. - -The convulsed face and savage cries of Red of Ordish, and the tumultuous -shouts of his men as they pursued madly after, flinging stones, knives, -and clubs in despairing endeavour to injure the youth who had so neatly -tricked them, receded gradually into the distance until a turn of the -road shut them altogether out of sight and hearing. - -"Why did I listen to thee, lad?" cried Matthew presently in a tone of -resentment and vexation. "Why did I not ride at them and try to cut a -way through? Why didst press me to yield up my purse without a fight? -Hast so soon forgotten that thou art destined to become an esquire and -an aspirant to knighthood? 'Tis a bad start to a warrior's career to -counsel giving way without a fight to the first coward cut-throat we -meet. Coward that I was to listen----" - -"Stay, Matthew," interposed the lad; "run not on so, but examine this -wallet. Perchance the fledgeling esquire is not quite so base as thou -thinkest." - -"What?" cried Matthew, taking the wallet and thrusting in his hand. -"Did ye--why, yes, 'tis all here--truly thou art quick and bold. 'Twas -well done, and I none the wiser. Thou art indeed Sir Richard Wintour's -cub, and I can say nae better." - -"There was little enough in it, Matthew," returned the lad. "I hope -that we may have many such adventures to while away the long journey to -my new home. They will keep our wits from getting rusty." - -"They will indeed, lad, and I hope that Matthew the man-at-arms may show -to better advantage at our next encounter. Now I will continue the -story of our struggle at Sluys which the robbers interrupted in so ugly -a fashion. We English, then, had overcome all resistance in the first -line of the French ships and were attacking the next, when the adventure -befell that touches thee so closely. The ships commanded by Sir John -Chartris had again closed in and grappled, and once more we were hard at -work hacking and thrusting upon the enemy's decks. Sir John had gained -a footing upon the poop of the ship he had boarded, and was hewing away -with right good will when, of a sudden, a gigantic Genoese dropped down -upon his shoulders from the rigging. Sir John was borne to the deck, -and would have been rapidly dispatched there had not thy father, Sir -Richard Wintour, called upon one or two of us near by and hurried to his -rescue. Our attack diverted the attention of those surrounding Sir -John, and he was able to struggle to his feet. - -"The Genoese still clung to his back, however, and Sir John was unable -to use his sword. To our horror, after a few moments' tottering upon -the edge, both men, still clinging desperately to one another, pitched -headlong over the side of the ship down into the sea in the space -betwixt the prows of the grinding ships. Seeing what was coming, and -knowing only too well that Sir John, clad in full armour, would sink -like a stone, thy father snatched at a rope, and without a moment's -hesitation sprang after him. So instant was he that he did not even -stay to see that the other end of the rope was secured, and he must have -left the ship before ever Sir John had touched the water. 'Twas a rash -act, a gallant act, and it all but failed, for the end of the rope was -free, and was just disappearing over the side when I pounced upon it. - -"The strain upon it was so heavy that I almost followed. Thomelin the -archer, however, also seized hold of the rope, and we two pulled and -tugged. In a moment or two the strain eased somewhat, and we guessed -that the big Genoese had been compelled to leave go. Then we began to -draw in hand over hand until two heads appeared above the surface. They -belonged to Sir John and thy father. - -"Now came the heartrending part of the whole affair. A slight swell was -gently heaving, and ever and anon the ships ground and clashed together. -Knowing this, and fearing that we might not draw up the knights before -one or other of the ships heaved inwards irresistibly, we pulled with -all our might and shouted aloud for others to come to our aid. But the -rush of fighting men had passed onwards, and the noise was so prodigious -that we were unheard or unheeded. So we bent to the work, and soon had -Sir John, who was uppermost, on a level with the decks. We had pulled -him safe aboard, and were about to draw up Sir Richard, when--lad, it -makes me sick to think of it--one of our own ships, falling on the -swell, moved inwards and caught him by the legs against the ship on -which we stood. He gave a gasp and let go his hold, but we seized him, -and, the swell passing onwards, drew him aboard. - -"One glance was sufficient to tell us that his hours were numbered. -Notwithstanding his armour, his legs and the lower part of his body were -badly crushed. He was still conscious, however, and we laid him on the -deck of the enemy's ship, now all but won, and Sir John knelt over him. - -"'Goodbye, Sir John!' he said faintly. 'I am gone. Leave me and renew -the fight.' - -"'Nay, Richard, I cannot leave thee thus,' cried Sir John, weeping. -'Dear comrade, thou hast sacrificed thy life for mine. I will stay and -do what little I still may towards that debt. The battle is won without -another stroke from me.' - -"'I rejoice that all goes well. If thou wilt do aught for me, look to -my boy Edgar. His mother died a year agone, and he is alone save for -me. Place him with thy esquires, if I ask not too much.' - -"'Richard, it is done. Right gladly will I.' - -"'He will be landless, like his father, as thou know'st, and he must -carve his way with his sword. Let him know this. Spoil him not. I -think he will do well, though his mother has had his upbringing and not -I.' - -"'If he is half as gallant as his father he will need little help from -me,' responded Sir John. 'Is there naught else I can do? Here is water -Matthew hath brought.' - -"Sir Richard revived a little when he had drunk, but very soon sank into -a stupor from which he never regained consciousness. He seemed quite -easy in his mind concerning thee, after Sir John had told him he would -send me down into Devon to fetch thee as soon as an opportunity offered. -He beckoned me to him and sent thee his dear love, and bade me conjure -thee to strive thy hardest to be a true knight, brave in battle and -chivalrous towards the weak and helpless. More he said, though his -voice grew so faint at last that I could not catch all his words; but he -meant thee to give all thy mind to the work of thy squirehood, to learn -right well how to bear thyself knightly, and how to live a godly life. -Thy father, lad, thou mayest well be proud of." - -"I know, Matthew," said Edgar in a low voice. "And I know, too, that if -earnest striving of mine can compass it, his memory will not be -disgraced by me. It shall be my aim to live as nobly and to die as -gallantly." - -"Ye say well, lad. I hope thou wilt be as good as thy word. Now I will -finish the story. - -"Very soon we had broken through the second line of the French ships, -and as at that moment more ships arrived under Sir Robert Morley, a -great panic fell upon the third line, and many of their men threw -themselves into the sea and there perished miserably. The fourth line, -however, still remained unbroken, and fought us right gallantly until -nightfall, when those that were still able to set sail made good their -escape. - -"Our losses were trifling; the losses of the French were tremendous. We -had only two ships destroyed, while out of all the mighty French fleet -but a few stragglers escaped. Their loss in men, too, they say, was no -less than thirty thousand slain. 'Twill be years and years, lad, I -warrant thee, before the French will again dare to oppose us on the -ocean. We are now masters of the sea, and our ships can come and go as -they please. Hurrah for our martial King Edward!" - -"Hurrah, indeed!" cried Edgar, catching something of his enthusiasm. -"But how came our men to gain so great a victory over the French? Did -they not fight well?" - -"Aye, they fought well enough, but they were outgeneralled. They had -two leaders while we had one. And more--though I am a man-at-arms, and -think most of my sort, yet can I give a meed of praise where 'tis -due--'twas our archers did much to win the day. Aye, our bowmen gave -the French a rude awakening--one, too, that will be repeated as roughly -yet many a day. Our men shot so hard and fast that the air was streaked -with shafts, and Frenchmen and Genoese fell dead on every hand. Even -the knights were hard put to it to face so pitiless a hail. I mind me -old Thomelin of Pontefract, one of the most famous of our marksmen, said -to me as we passed a ship in the first line, where the battle still -raged: 'See yon knight in golden armour, Matthew?' - -"'Aye,' said I. - -"'Watch him well.' - -"He drew his bow to the feather and held it motionless for a moment or -two. The knight was opposing a party of English who were pouring along -the deck of his ship. He swung his axe back and up, and Thomelin's bow -twanged. The knight's nearest armpit sprouted feathers, his axe fell -with a clang, and he rattled down after it. 'Twas thus that our archers -taught even knights in full armour to fear them." - -"But are not crossbowmen equally to be feared?" cried Edgar. "I have -heard that their heavy bolts can crash through the armour itself." - -"Mayhap; but when they have English bowmen to fight against they have -little chance to show their powers. Ere ever they can loose a bolt a -cloth-yard shaft hath laid them low. Our archers laugh at -crossbowmen--and with good reason." - -"What befell after the battle, Matthew?" - -"We landed, and Edward led us to the city of Tournay. He drew his -allies to his standard, and it was with a hundred thousand men that he -commenced the siege. All goeth well so far, but Sir John sent me after -thee before we had long encamped before its walls. And here I am, -Master Edgar." - -"Aye, good Matthew," replied Edgar, who appeared to be slightly ill at -ease, and had turned in his saddle two or three times during the latter -part of the soldier's narrative. "Now, wilt thou rein in thy steed for -a moment so that we may listen? Several times I have fancied I heard the -sound of horses' hoofs dully in the distance." - -"What of that, lad? Red of Ordish and his band had nae horses." - -"None that we could see. But in some of the tales I have heard both Red -and his band were mounted. Hearken now!" - -Dim and distant, but unmistakable, sounded the thud of horses' hoofs. - -"Quick, Matthew, we must leave the road and hide. Our horse, carrying a -double burden, must soon be overtaken. Dismount and lead thy steed in -amongst those rocks and bushes and, if thou canst, compel it to lie -down." - -Without demur Matthew obeyed his young charge's orders, possibly because -he could think of no better line of action. In a minute or two horse -and riders were well hidden behind a tangle of rocks and bushes a dozen -yards from the edge of the roadway. The clatter of horses' hoofs was -now very close, and in a few moments a body of wild-looking horsemen -burst into view round a turn of the road. - -"'Tis Red," muttered the lad at his first glimpse of the foremost man, -as he shrank back yet more closely under cover. - -The horsemen clattered noisily by and vanished as quickly as they had -come. For the time, at any rate, the fugitives were safe. - -"What now, lad?" grumbled Matthew, as he began to realize their sorry -plight. "We cannot take to the road again, I trow." - -"Nay; we must, I fear, clamber on as best we can across these rocks. -See yon hill? The country there is clearer, so mayhap if we struggle on -a little we shall find it open out before us." - -For an hour the soldier and his companion scrambled along among the -rocks, leading the horse between them. Then the way began to get easier -until, at the end of some hours, they found themselves in fairly open -country. The travelling had been very exhausting, and, well pleased to -be quit of it, they mounted again and cantered gaily off until they -reached cultivated land, and could see in the distance the lights of a -dwelling. On a closer inspection this proved to be a large and -straggling farmhouse. - -"Darkness falls," quoth Matthew; "I think we will rest the night here if -the good man is not unwilling." - -Edgar gladly consented, and in a minute or two they were knocking at the -farmhouse door. After a considerable delay and some parleying the door -was opened, and they were conducted into the farmer's kitchen. Here -they were served with plenty of rough but wholesome food, and were soon -doing full justice to the viands. Under the influence of the good -cheer, and more especially of the good man's home-brewed ale, Matthew -waxed communicative, and related to the farmer with great gusto the -incidents of their encounter with and escape from the redoubtable Red of -Ordish. - -The recital seemed to disturb the farmer greatly. He grew pale and -nervous, and presently left the room, muttering that if robbers were -about it would be well for him to see that his barns and stables were -well secured. The action seemed so natural an one that neither Edgar -nor Matthew took any notice, although the man had not returned when, an -hour or two later, his wife hinted that it was time to retire for the -night. Readily enough they agreed, and the woman led them up a flight -of crazy stairs to a low room lighted by a single small curtain-screened -window which peeped out of the thickness of the thatch. The room -contained a rough bed and plenty of skin rugs, and in a very few minutes -the two wayfarers had flung themselves down and had fallen into a sound -sleep. - - - - - *CHAPTER II* - - *An Ordeal of the Night* - - -It must have been well after midnight when Edgar awoke. What had -awakened him he knew not, but he felt somehow a sense of uneasiness for -which he vainly tried to account. All was as still as death within the -house, save only for the regular breathing of his companion, who lay -close by his side. - -For some moments Edgar lay without a movement, listening intently and -wondering what it could be that made him feel so uneasy and even--he -could not disguise it from himself--even fearful. He could hear -absolutely nothing, but yet he felt a conviction steal over him that -Matthew and he were not alone in the room. Who would dare to enter -their room so stealthily at dead of night? And what might be their -purpose? - -Softly Edgar pressed his companion in the side. He stirred ever so -slightly, and Edgar pressed again as meaningly as he could. He felt the -soldier start and stiffen himself as though on the alert. - -Waiting for no more, Edgar, who was light of touch and supple as an eel, -stole softly from the bed and made for the corner of the room away from -the window. He dreaded unspeakably that he might come into contact with -something--he knew not what--on the way; but he reached his coign of -vantage without mishap. Then he waited motionless for events to -develop. Though he still heard no sound, he felt even more convinced -than before that the room was occupied by other than themselves--and, by -the strange feeling of fear that he could not thrust away from himself, -thoroughly as he despised it, occupied by something grim and terrible. - -Presently he heard a slight rustling, as though Matthew were leaving his -bed, and a moment later the curtain was jerked back, admitting into the -room a stream of moonlight. - -Simultaneously with the pulling of the curtain three figures became -visible to Edgar between him and the light. The upright figure nearest -to the window was Matthew, he had no doubt, but the two other figures -crouching low upon the floor he could not recognize, though the glint of -steel he caught from one showed that their presence boded ill indeed. - -Silently, with a bound fierce as a tiger's, one of the men sprang upon -Matthew. With a movement as quick the man-at-arms avoided the blow -aimed at him and closed with his assailant. Simultaneously the other -man stood up and swung a club up into the air and down behind his back -as he prepared to strike down Matthew while he grappled with his foe. - -With the speed of an arrow Edgar sprang forward. Seizing the club he -gave it a quick, wrenching pull and tore it from the man's grasp. Then -as quickly he swung it heavily down upon the assassin's head. With a -groan the man sank limply to the floor. - -Turning to the other combatants, Edgar saw that Matthew was holding his -assailant's right hand with his left, and had wrenched his own hand free -and grasped his dagger. There was a flash as the moonlight gleamed upon -the bright steel, then the stroke fell heavily upon the ruffian's side. -But though the blade pierced his clothing it snapped off short against -his skin! - -"_Bewitched! Bewitched!_" shrieked Matthew in superstitious terror, as -he let go his hold and fell upon his knees. Babbling incoherently and -crossing himself convulsively, he seemed oblivious of his fearful -danger. Fortunately the suddenness with which he had let go his hold -sent the ruffian staggering back into a corner, but like a wild cat he -was back again, and in another moment the knife must have been plunged -into Matthew's body had not Edgar screamed piercingly as he dashed -forward. - -"_Shirt of mail_, Matthew, _shirt of mail!_" - -Matthew heard and understood his meaning just in time. Plunging full -length upon the floor, he avoided the murderous stroke, and the man, in -the darkness, pitched over him into the wall. Ere he had recovered from -the shock Edgar had sprung clean upon his back. - -Jabbing behind him with his knife the assassin tried to dislodge the -lad, but although he received two or three flesh wounds, Edgar clung on -tenaciously, and, by impeding the man's arm with one hand and gripping -him by the throat with the other, did his best to hinder him, while he -called repeatedly upon Matthew to renew the struggle. - -It was some moments before Matthew could respond. He was still unnerved -by the grim midnight attack and what he had for the moment taken to be -the supernatural character of his assailant. Edgar's warning cry had -enabled him to shake off some of his paralysis, but precious moments had -slipped away before he was himself again. At last Edgar's cries aroused -him, and he rushed in and closed with the man, who was endeavouring with -the utmost desperation to rid himself of the burden upon his back. -Until then the man had fought in grim silence, but now he snarled and -champed like a wild beast. In one of his twists and turns he staggered -close to the little window, and for a moment the moonlight played upon -his head. Though Edgar, from his position, could not see his face, one -glimpse of the tangled mass of hair was sufficient. It was red. - -The ruffian fought with extraordinary fierceness and power. Once -Matthew succeeded in possessing himself of his knife, but almost -immediately lost it, and it was not until the man was almost strangled -that his resistance was overcome. - -"Get me something wherewith to secure him, Edgar," gasped Matthew. -"Strips of clothing--anything, lad." - -Edgar sprang to the bed and fumbled among the rugs and skins for -something that he could tear into strips. As he did so his ear caught a -sound outside the door that could not be mistaken. - -"Quick, Matthew--to the window--flee!" he cried, in an undertone that -thrilled with desperate urgency. "The stairs creak beneath the tread of -a dozen stealthy feet. 'Tis Red's band--away, away, or we are lost!" - -At a single bound Matthew sprang halfway through the window. Another -moment and he had dropped to the ground. - -In his fumbles at the bedclothes Edgar's hand had come into contact with -his own or Matthew's sword. The slight indefinable sound or feeling of -pressure upon the door attracted his attention, and, like a streak, he -drew the sword from its sheath. Then, with a single thrust, he drove it -several inches through the centre of the door. - -There was a screech, and the pressure instantly ceased. Simultaneously -the silent approach changed into a loud and angry clamour, and a rush -was made at the door, and it was kicked violently open. - -But Edgar was already halfway to the window. Flinging his naked sword -through in advance, he sprang lightly up and through, and dropped safely -down upon the ground beneath. - -Matthew was awaiting him and had already snatched up the sword, and the -two, with a single thought, rushed madly round to the front of the -farmhouse. Their one aim was to get their horse from the stable before -the robbers were upon them. - -As he rounded the side of the house, Edgar caught a glimpse of something -moving in the shadow of some trees a dozen paces away. He looked -again--they were horses!--and with a whoop he called to Matthew and fled -to them. The horses were half-wild, and at the sudden approach reared -and kicked furiously. - -There was no time to sooth and pacify the beasts, for already the shouts -from behind showed that the pursuit had begun, so Edgar sprang -recklessly at the nearest horse, flung his leg over its back, and -grasped it by the mane. Then with his dagger he cut the rope that -secured it. The horse reared madly and backed in amongst its fellows, -but at every opportunity Edgar cut and slashed with his dagger at the -ropes that fastened the other horses to the trees. Matthew had also -succeeded in mounting, and seconded his efforts until all were freed. -Then with a yell that sent the frightened troop clattering away into the -darkness, Edgar and Matthew dug their heels into their horses' sides and -galloped headlong after them. In a confused clump, horsemen and -riderless horses careered over pasture and farmland until the farmhouse -and the shouting robbers had been left far behind. - -Gradually Edgar gained some sort of control over his wild mount, which -had, until then, tasked all his energies to keep it from flinging him -from off its back. Then he guided it to Matthew's side. - -"We have covered miles, Matthew, and are safe." - -"Nay, let us ride on until our steeds are exhausted. Mine is still as -much master as I." - -"Then let us ride together, and keep one of yon frightened animals in -sight. If I can, I am going to capture a spare steed. 'Twill do to -barter and replace the things we left behind in the robbers' hands." - -For a couple of hours longer they rode onward. Then their horses of -themselves dropped into a walk and at last stopped altogether. Matthew -and Edgar had kept close to two of the riderless horses, and Edgar -promptly slipped from his seat and approached them. They were too -dead-beat to resist, and he was able to lead them into a thick covert -close at hand. Here, after some trouble, a light fencing of branches -hacked from the trees was built around them, and Matthew and Edgar could -begin to think of rest. They were almost as dead-beat as the horses, -and, without troubling to make themselves any sort of couch, flung -themselves down amongst the bushes and slept the sleep of utter -exhaustion. - - - - - *CHAPTER III* - - *The Castle of Wolsingham* - - -Very soon after dawn Matthew and Edgar were astir again. Both felt the -strain of their exertions during the preceding day and night, but -neither felt that they were safe in remaining where they were. They had -left behind nearly all their belongings, but in their stead they had -four horses which, they hoped, would more than counterbalance the losses -they had sustained. - -Tearing up part of his clothing into strips, and utilizing their belts, -Matthew made shift to secure the two spare horses, and, mounting again, -they rode on. For some time they purposely kept away from the high -roads, not knowing how far the power of Red and his band might extend. -But when they believed that they were too far from his haunts for there -to be anything more to fear, they took to the highway again, and made -more rapid progress. The spare horses were sold later in the day -without difficulty, and provided a goodly sum from which they were able -to purchase fresh cloaks and weapons, and enough being left to help them -on their way. - -The journey was full of incidents, though none was so exciting as their -encounter with the dreaded Red and his band of outlaws. In due course -they arrived at Wolsingham, and Matthew resigned his charge into the -hands of Geoffrey Fletcher, the Lieutenant of the Castle, in the absence -of its master, Sir John Chartris. Geoffrey really ranked as an esquire, -but he was a man of middle age who had failed through lack of influence -and skill with the sword to obtain the honour of knighthood. He -possessed little ambition, however, and was well content with his -position in command of the retainers of the castle. - -After a few enquiries concerning the journey thither, and a sympathetic -and kindly reference to his recent bereavement, Geoffrey suggested a -visit to Edgar's fellow esquires. - -"They have heard that thou wert on the way to join us, and are ready -indeed to see thee. The story of thy father's gallant sacrifice has -disposed them and all of us greatly in thy favour. From the little -Matthew hath told me of the adventures of thy journey, it seemeth that -our expectations are not likely to be disappointed." - -"Ye are all most kind to me," said Edgar gratefully. "I have already -promised in my heart to do all in my power to serve Sir John for the -memory of my father's name." - -"Ye say well. Come now and I will make thee known to thy comrades. -They are four--Philip Soames, Robert Duplessis, Aymery Montacute, and -Roland Mortimer. They are all about thine age, for the eldest esquire -hath followed his master to the wars. Doubtless thou wilt find them -more to thy liking than they are to mine, for they are high-spirited -youths, and accustomed to be more than a little reckless in their -pranks. But such, I fear, is too often the wont of young men of noble -birth and wide estates." - -Shaking his head with the air of a man who had suffered much at the -hands of the said esquires, Geoffrey Fletcher opened a door and ushered -Edgar into a room where the four esquires and some few pages were -practising feats of skill and strength, or hacking at one another with -blunted swords. - -The scene was a really spirited one, and Edgar felt a thrill of -enthusiasm as he realized fully that he was now at last to begin in -earnest to learn the trade of arms and the usages of chivalry. - -"Ha! Geoffrey, doubtless this young springald is our new comrade, Edgar -Wintour?" cried Aymery Montacute, a slim, active-looking youth a little -older than Edgar. "Come, we are right glad to see him, and right happy -to welcome him in our midst." - -Edgar bowed his thanks. - -"He looketh keen," went on Aymery, speaking more to Geoffrey than to -Edgar; "he looketh keen, and if I can cheer him on with a few friendly -strokes with sword and buckler, let him don some gear and we will set to -without more ado. At last, Geoffrey, I have succeeded in worsting -Roland, and I feel so elated I could fight the world." - -"But nay, Aymery, scarcely would ye wish to show off thy prowess so soon -upon your new comrade? How much can he know of the sword?" - -"Dissuade him not, Geoffrey," interposed Edgar hastily. "He meaneth not -to be unfriendly, I am sure, and I would gladly receive a lesson at his -hands. Come, comrade Aymery, teach me also how to beat friend Roland." - -There was a general laugh at the hit at Roland Mortimer; and that -worthy, after a momentary frown, joined in the laugh, for Edgar's smile -and tone were so frank and pleasant that anger was impossible. - -"Don these things and let us set to work," cried Aymery; and without the -loss of a moment, Edgar drew on the leather jerkin and steel headpiece -and snatched a sword and buckler from the wall. With a slight shrug of -his shoulders and a smile of some amusement, Geoffrey turned on his heel -and left the room. Though his charge was now left entirely to the -tender mercies of his new comrades, he knew that there was no need to be -anxious on his behalf, for their welcome, though rough, was not one whit -the less sincere. - -The instant Edgar threw out his sword with a gesture of readiness, -Aymery attacked with a bound like a young deer's. So swift was his -attack that, before Edgar quite knew where he was, his head was singing -from a hearty blow which fell full upon his steel headpiece. Warming to -the work, he did his best to make a smart return, and to pay Aymery back -with something to spare. The teaching he had received, however, was in -no way equal to that given to the esquires at Wolsingham Castle, and in -a few moments Aymery had demonstrated this so clearly that the other's -body was smarting in a half-dozen places at once. - -Good-naturedly Aymery soon proposed a halt, and explained to Edgar -wherein he had failed, and what were the chief faults of his style of -defence. - -"Ye look quick and active, but make not enough use of your powers, -friend Wintour. See how I fought--never still, constantly advancing or -retreating. Ye should do the same." - -"I see that would be best for a light-armed contest such as this," -replied Edgar; "but seeing that knights fight in full armour in battle, -with little room or power to advance or retreat, would it not be best -for us to learn to stand more to our ground likewise?" - -"There is some shrewdness in thy point," responded Aymery with a nod, -"but pitched battles are rare, whilst there are many occasions on which -a knight fights when not armed cap-à-pie. I am perhaps too prone to -rely upon my activity; mayhap it were better if I sometimes fought knee -to knee." - -"Do you never practise in full armour?" asked Edgar. "I have never had -the opportunity, but again it seemeth to me that as we enter a battle or -the lists in full armour, we should make it our chiefest aim to become -quite accustomed to its weight and hindrance, and to watching our foes -through our vizor-slits. Why leave all that to the day of battle, as so -many seem to do?" - -"Ah! I cannot agree with thee there. Full armour is so irksome that we -should never learn the finer strokes of fence. When thou hast felt the -weight of it thou wilt the better understand." - -Edgar felt unconvinced, but did not care to go on with the discussion, -as his knowledge of the subject was so slight that he felt far from sure -of his ground. So he turned aside and watched the efforts of some of -his other comrades as they engaged in gymnastic exercises or practised -with various weapons. It was a sight of absorbing interest to him, and -the call to supper when it came found him still reluctant to quit the -scene. - -"Come, Edgar, put off thy headpiece and jerkin and join us at the board. -I warrant thou wilt pronounce the cheer both good and plentiful, for Sir -John hath never stinted us of our victuals. Wilt accompany me?" - -"Right willingly," cried Edgar, as he threw off his gear and followed -the speaker, a sturdy youth named Robert Duplessis, into the next room, -where a long table literally groaned beneath the weight of huge rounds -of beef and other fare and big jugs of home-brewed ale. Whilst the -supper was proceeding, Edgar took an early opportunity of inviting his -companion to tell him something of the castle and its inmates. - -"Oh, as to the castle, thou art easily enlightened," cried Robert -readily enough. "'Twas built in John's reign and, as thou hast seen, is -strong enough for anything. It lieth not far from St. Albans and but -twenty miles from London town. Sometimes we esquires take horse and ride -into the city on pleasure bent, and a right good time we enjoy. Thou -shouldst make one of our party the next time we ride thither." - -"The exercises I saw just now, and the encounters with sword and -axe--are they all the teaching ye get when Sir John is abroad?" - -"Nay, nay, we should be sorry esquires were that so. No, twice a week -Sir Percy Standish cometh to Wolsingham to give us instruction in the -use of our weapons. He doth it out of friendship for Sir John, and -lucky indeed are we to have a teacher so able. It is said, however, by -some of the pertest of our pages that his visits are less on Sir John's -account than because of an attraction amongst his household, but I hold -that the report is baseless, seeing that Sir John's elder daughter is -but seventeen." - -"I saw three ladies on the outer walls as I rode up to the gates of the -castle," said Edgar. "Doubtless two were Sir John's daughters? Who was -the third?" - -"Oh, she is Sir John's ward, Beatrice d'Alençon. She is only fifteen, -but is heiress to wide lands in Kent and wider lands in Guienne. She -will be greatly in request among the needy nobles when she cometh of age -an the prophets mistake not. Even Aymery and Roland dispute one -another's claims to wear her gage, and that is why they are so zealous -to worst one another in fence. Asses!--when she careth naught for -either!" - -Edgar smiled at the scorn with which Robert spoke. "At any rate," he -said, "neither you nor I are likely to dispute the damsel with the -twain. I hold such ideas to be rubbish, and far from befitting esquires -aspiring to the honour of knighthood. My aim at least is single, and no -maiden shall divide it." - -"Ha! ha! Edgar," laughed Robert, "I should love to hear thee make that -declaration in the lady's hearing." - -Edgar did not care to join in the laugh, and merely shrugged his -shoulders and turned the conversation into other channels. He was -interested beyond all else in learning the details of his squirehood and -how best he might find opportunity to advance himself in it. The other -matters that apparently so interested Aymery and Roland had no charms -for him. - -So earnest to succeed, it did not take Edgar long to learn his duties -and to make rapid headway with his knowledge of martial accomplishments. -The period of the next year or two was to him a time of continuous -development. Applying himself with ardour to learn all that appertained -to knightly prowess, in six months he had passed several of his comrades -in skill and dexterity with arms, and could compel even Aymery Montacute -to put out all his strength to worst him. - -It was then that he gave effect to a resolve half formed in his first -talk with Aymery. His opinion at that time was that a knight or esquire -should practise clothed in full armour if he desired to show himself at -his best on the day of trial. As time went on and his knowledge -increased, this opinion deepened into a firm conviction. His comrades, -however, as Aymery had done at the first, laughed at the idea, and one -or two suggested slyly that perhaps he was becoming tired of the hard -knocks he was getting, now that he had worked his way into the front -rank and none thought of sparing him. But Edgar cared as little for -their ridicule and somewhat ungenerous suggestions as he really did for -their hard knocks, and presently appeared at their practices clad in as -full a suit of gear as he possessed. - -The natural result of the change was that his comrades easily worsted -him, and from being almost a match for Aymery he passed down the line to -Philip Soames, who stood last in order of prowess with the sword. -Undismayed, however, by the fall, Edgar set himself to climb back to the -position he had lost, and to become once more the equal of Aymery -notwithstanding the armour which clogged and weighted his every -movement. - -The labour was heavy and the task most irksome. Edgar was quite -determined about it, however, and slowly, bit by bit, won his way -upward. One of the greatest difficulties before him was that of getting -used to wearing a helmet with vizor closed, and learning to watch his -man as keenly and surely through its narrow slits as with the vizor -open. Accomplish the task he did, however, and had the satisfaction of -knowing that the fierce shock of battle or the exciting moments of the -tourney would find him on as familiar ground as in the contests of the -gymnasium or the tilts in the castle courtyard. As a result of the -heavy and constant exercise and the good fare, his frame expanded and -his muscles thickened, and from a sturdy lad of fifteen he grew to be a -stalwart youth, strong as most grown men and as hardy as one of his -Viking forefathers. - -After a couple of years of the teaching of Sir Percy Standish, their -instructor, Edgar began to long for higher instruction, and for other -opponents than his four companions and an occasional visitor from a -neighbouring castle. He feared that when the time came for him to be -cast into the wider circle of a camp of war, his skill, though it seemed -considerable among his comrades at Wolsingham, might be dwarfed into -insignificance by the higher skill of esquires from other parts of the -country. - -Casting about for some means of obtaining other and more varied -instruction, he made enquiries during one of the visits he and his -comrades sometimes paid to the city of London. He then ascertained that -there existed two or three schools of arms for the training, chiefly, of -the sons of merchants, but oftentimes used by knights and esquires -within the city bounds. One of these was pointed out to him as of -especial excellence, as it was presided over by a Picard, named Gaspard -Verillac, who was much famed for his skill with weapons. - -The very next day Edgar rode into London alone and called upon Verillac. - -"I wish to gain some skill in arms," he said, opening the conversation -with his usual directness. - -Gaspard gave his youthful visitor a keen glance. "Thou hast already some -skill in arms, if I mistake not," he remarked quietly. - -"But a little, I fear. I desire to learn much more." - -"Come into yon chamber. Take sword and engage with me for a few -moments. I shall then know the more surely how much or how little thou -dost know." - -Edgar obeyed, and, entering the chamber, eagerly scanned the walls, -which were covered with what seemed to be the weapons of all nations. -He then selected a sword of nearly the same length and weight as the -sharpened weapon he bore strapped to his side. The two fenced together -for a minute, and Edgar realized at once how widely his style differed -from that of some at least of the world outside his own circle. -Gaspard's swordplay was more free and open than he had been used to, and -was perhaps rather more adapted for single combat than for pitched -encounters. The point was used almost as much as the edge of the blade. - -"Thou art an esquire and no burgher's son," said Gaspard as he put up -his sword. - -Edgar assented. - -"Thy skill is already considerable and giveth promise of vastly more. I -can make thee a knight of rare skill and address if thou carest to -become my pupil." - -"I will gladly do so," cried Edgar, who was greatly impressed by his new -instructor and by the careless ease and power with which he fenced. - -"Thou wilt not only practise with me but with others of my pupils; and -as they are of all ranks and hie from many countries, thou wilt learn to -be at home with whomsoever the tide of war may bring thee into conflict. -Come now, and I will take thee into the School of Arms." - -When, some two hours later, Edgar rode back to Wolsingham Castle, he -felt well satisfied with the step he had taken. The prospect of adding -to his prowess with the sword under the guidance of Gaspard Verillac -seemed bright indeed. - - - - - *CHAPTER IV* - - *The Winning of Peter* - - -Regularly twice a week Edgar rode into London and waged strenuous -warfare with Gaspard's most promising pupils. So earnest was his -purpose and so able the tuition that he made rapid progress, and -presently, as he grew in strength and stature, Gaspard was hard put to -it to find pupils either ready or able to oppose him. - -Indeed, Gaspard soon learned to turn the visits of the young esquire to -good account. Oftentimes knights, and even nobles, desirous of -obtaining a little private practice before setting out for the wars, -were attracted to the school by the reputation of its founder; and on -these occasions, instead of wielding the sword himself, Gaspard -preferred to call Edgar in and set his pupil to work, contenting himself -with administering instruction and reproof as the combat proceeded. To -being made use of in this manner Edgar raised not the smallest -objection. The heavier and the more desperate the encounter, the -greater, he felt, was his chance of onward progress. - -It was some twelve months after his visit to Gaspard's school that an -adventure befell which influenced considerably Edgar's after career. It -had been his habit, when he had stayed unusually late, to take a short -cut to the open country through the poorer quarter at the eastward end -of the city. The denizens of its narrow alleys and filthy courts were -indeed a fierce and lawless crew, but Edgar, in the reliance born of his -hard-won prowess with the sword, cared not one straw whether or no his -way might lie through the haunts even of criminals and desperadoes. -Certain it is that they never ventured to molest him. - -But one day, as he was cantering along an alley just wide enough to give -free passage to a mounted man, he heard, as he passed the entrance to a -narrow court, a sudden burst of piercing screams. Turning his steed and -clattering into the court, Edgar surprised a group of rough-looking men -crowding round a lad or young man who was being most cruelly beaten by -one of their number. The lad was thin and frail and half-starved -looking, and his assailant was a burly ruffian of the most brutal type. -The lad's screams so worked upon Edgar that, without a moment's -hesitation, he urged his horse right amongst the group of men, and, by -causing it to kick and plunge violently, scattered them in all -directions. The lad's tormentor he treated to a heavy blow with the -flat of his sword, just as he was disappearing, scowling horribly, -through an open doorway close by. - -Dismounting, Edgar hastily assisted the lad to rise, and then for the -first time saw that he was a cripple. One of his legs was apparently -somewhat shorter than the other, and the limb itself was partially -withered. - -"Come, lad, let me take thee to thy home," said Edgar gently. "These -brutes shall molest thee no more." - -"Thank you, sir," gasped the boy gratefully, as he tried to struggle to -his feet. "But I have no home save this court. I fear, too, that I -cannot stand." - -"Tell me which is thy house. I will carry thee and lay thee on thy -bed." - -"This is where I live when he will let me," said the lad, indicating the -house into which his assailant had disappeared. "But do not tarry here, -sir, or thou wilt be attacked. Quick, I hear them calling to one -another, and if thou wouldst escape alive, thou must go at once." - -"Nay, lad, I cannot leave thee thus. After the rough shaking I have -given them I fear the ruffians will illtreat thee worse than before. -Come, I will mount and carry thee out of this den before me." - -Springing into the saddle, Edgar stooped and lifted the lad, placing him -in the saddle before him. Then, sword in hand, he rode down the court -straight to the entrance, where he could see men gathering armed with -knives, clubs, and stones. A volley of missiles sang through the air as -he approached, and, bending before the storm, Edgar charged full into -the enemy. The men scattered as he bore down upon them, some dodging -into doorways and others throwing themselves down flat against the -walls. But as he passed, knives darted out from this side and that, and -it was only with the greatest difficulty that Edgar could avoid them. -Emerging into the alley he found it thick with men hurrying to the -scene. The whole district seemed to have been aroused, and the instant -he appeared a howl of execration went up, followed almost instantly by -another and heavier volley of stones. - -Setting spurs to his horse, Edgar again darted full at the crowd. The -men were now too numerous to avoid him, and a dozen were flung headlong -to the ground, whilst several more fell back with heads ringing from -blows given sharply with the flat of the sword. Though bleeding from -several cuts inflicted by the stones, Edgar had almost won through to -safety when suddenly, just as he was striking at a man who had tried to -hamstring his horse on his right, a ruffian on his left, more determined -than his fellows, sprang close up and buried a dagger in the animal's -side. The poor beast gave a convulsive spring and then sank to the -ground where it lay writhing in agony. As the horse fell beneath him, -Edgar took the cripple lad in his arms. It needed but a glance to tell -him that his horse was doomed, and his ears told him as surely that his -own life was in equal peril did he not make good his escape without an -instant's loss of time. - -A closed door was by him, and he kicked it open with one foot. -Springing in, he closed it after him. The sound of the shrieking horde -outside was momentarily deadened, but, as he rushed along the passage to -the back of the house, the door flew violently open again, and a wave of -sound with a note so fierce and cruel swept in that most men, even in -those martial days, would have been completely unnerved. - -A door led from the passage into a yard at the back of the house, and -through this Edgar sped with his burden as rapidly as he could. The -yard was separated from the next by a low wall, and over this he -pressed, making for the door at the back of the house opposite to him. -This door, however, was fast, and was too strongly made to be readily -battered down; so without a moment's hesitation Edgar sprang at the -single-shuttered window on the ground floor. Placing the cripple lad -down for a moment, he seized a corner of the shutter with both hands, -and, exerting all his strength, tore it bodily away. Flinging it to the -ground with a clatter, he again lifted the cripple lad, placed him on -the sill, and leaped up after him. Not until then did he pause to glance -inside the room, but now he saw that it contained four men, who had -evidently been drinking and playing at cards when disturbed by the -sudden wrenching of the shutter from off its hinges. - -They were rough-looking men, and stared fiercely, albeit with some -alarm, at the two figures perched upon the window sill. - -"Who are ye?" challenged one in a rough and threatening tone. -"Speak--what want ye?" - -Edgar would have retreated had there been time, but already some of his -pursuers were dropping over the low wall behind, shouting in fierce -exultation as they saw their prey almost within their grasp. In another -moment or two he would have to defend himself in the rear, whilst his -front was threatened by these four men, who looked as ripe for mischief -as any of the ruffians closing in behind. Desperate measures alone could -save him. - -Whispering to the cripple to cling to his back and so free both arms, -Edgar flung his legs over the sill, sprang into the room, and dashed for -the door. Two of the men drew their knives and made as though to stop -him, but Edgar, who still carried his sword naked in his hand, instantly -attacked them. Two rapid thrusts from his practised hand and the men -fell back, shrieking and snarling, leaving him free to pass unmolested -through the door and down a passage into another alley on the farther -side. - -Edgar's exertions in running and climbing, burdened by the cripple lad, -had been so great that he felt he must at once find a refuge, even if -only a temporary one, or resign himself to selling his life as dearly as -he could. Eagerly he glanced up and down the alley. At one end was a -blank wall, and at the other were a number of men, who raised a shout -the instant they caught sight of him. In front were what appeared to be -the backs of a number of solidly-built warehouses, and these, Edgar -felt, could and must provide his only refuge. - -The lowest windows were too high to be reached, and the doors were -unusually strong, doubtless owing to the poverty of the neighbourhood. -There was, however, no choice open, so Edgar again put the lad down and -turned to the nearest door. - -Throughout the flight the cripple lad had not spoken once, but now, -noticing perhaps how his rescuer panted, and how their escape seemed as -far off as ever, he found his tongue. - -"Leave me behind, sir. Thou canst not escape burdened with me. Seek -thine own safety. What need for both to perish?" - -"I cannot leave thee, lad, once I have taken the task upon me. Fear -not; while I still possess a sword I will never lose hope." - -As he spoke Edgar drove the blade of his sword through the top panel of -the door, tore it out, and again and again drove it back. Then with the -hilt he hammered the splintered woodwork inwards with quick sharp blows -until a hole gaped the full length and breadth of the panel. - -"Now, lad, thine escape at least is assured. Come; I am going to pass -thee through this hole." Lifting the lad, Edgar thrust him through the -cavity and lowered him gently down. And not one whit too soon, for the -advance guard of the men from the end of the alley and those who had -followed him through the houses was now upon the scene. Making a sudden -rush at the nearest of them, Edgar wounded two and momentarily drove the -rest headlong back. Then retreating as suddenly as he had advanced, he -sprang to the broken door and swung himself quickly through the gap. - -Inside he found himself in a dark passage, between stacks of goods piled -to the ceiling. Followed by the cripple, who had awaited his coming, -and who could now limp slowly along, he traversed the passage and -mounted some steps to what appeared to be the inhabited part of the -building. In a minute or two he came to the door of a room, inside -which he could hear the sound of laughter and the clink of cups and -platters. Here at least seemed hope of succour. - -It was indeed high time, for the noise of axes and hammers pounding at -the outer door and the yells of the savage mob outside reverberated -threateningly along the passage. In a minute or two the remnants of the -door must give way and allow them free ingress. Already some of the -cut-throats might have ventured singly through the gap and be stealing -along in the darkness. - -Opening the door without ceremony, Edgar pressed eagerly in, followed by -the lad. The sight which met them, fresh from the hurly-burly, seemed -strange in its dissimilarity, and almost made them momentarily doubt the -reality of what they had gone through. The room was comfortably -furnished and brightly lit, and at a large table in its centre sat a -merchant, his wife, and several daughters at supper. All rose to their -feet, as with a single impulse, as Edgar, panting and blood-streaked, -and with a naked and reddened sword in his hand, strode impetuously in. - -"Sirrah, what is this?" cried the merchant hastily. "What dost thou in -my dwelling?" - -"To seek aid. We are fugitives," panted Edgar. - -"From the law? Come not to me for succour, but begone!" - -"Nay, we flee from bands of thieves and cut-throats. Even now they are -doubtless pressing in at thy broken door. Summon aid, for our need is -sore." - -"What--what is it thou art saying? Bands of cut-throats entering my -house! Thou hast led them upon us, and we are ruined. What defence -have I against such ruffians?" - -Edgar leaned upon his sword and panted. His exertions had been -tremendous, but a few moments' breathing space would, he knew, do much -to restore him. - -"They are stealing along the passage, sir. I hear them," whispered the -cripple. "They are fierce and stubborn when once they are roused, and -fear the Justice and his men but little. I know them well." - -"Come, sir," said Edgar, lifting himself upright. "The cut-throats are -even now stealing along yon passage, and----" - -Shrill cries of alarm from the merchant's wife and daughters interrupted -him, and turning hastily round, Edgar saw that two or three -savage-looking figures were even now actually at the door. The merchant -snatched a knife from the table, and, though pale and trembling, moved -towards the door, as though prepared to defend his womenfolk to the -last. - -With a sickening shock Edgar realized his responsibility in drawing the -ruffians in pursuit of him into the home of a peaceful and innocent -merchant. Though he was the one they sought, it was not to be supposed -for a moment that the merchant's family would, even though he gave -himself up, remain unmolested. Furious with himself, and desperate to -defend the innocent from the consequences of his thoughtlessness, Edgar -sprang through the doorway upon the ruffians who were gathering there. - -His sword rose and fell with the rapidity and unerring precision he had -learned in so many hard-fought encounters at Gaspard's school, and in -the space of a few seconds three lay wounded upon the ground and the -others were in full flight. More men were stealing up behind, but at -the screeching of the wounded and the headlong flight of the remainder -they too turned and hastily retreated. For some distance Edgar followed -them up, and, by sundry thrusts at the hindmost, sent them racing down -the stairs to the passage through the warehouse. Here he stopped, for -the way was dark, and he could not know but that many might be lurking -among the bales, ready to spring out as he passed by, and, by stabbing -him in the back, render themselves masters of the merchant's dwelling. - -Returning to the door of the room, Edgar beckoned to the merchant, who -was engaged in calming the fears of his wife and daughters, to come -outside for a moment. - -"Canst not fetch aid?" - -"How dare I leave my wife and daughters, young sir? At any moment thou -mayst be overcome, leaving them at the mercy of these ruffians." - -"Nay, if thou wilt give me a lighted lantern fixed upon a short pole, I -will, I promise thee, rid thy house of these cut-throats until such time -as thou canst bring help. But I cannot fight to advantage in the dark." - -"Thou shalt have the lanthorn. See thou keep'st thy promise." - -The lantern was brought, and bearing it high up with his left hand, and -holding his sword in his right, Edgar returned along the way he had -come, searching for any trace of lurking foes. He encountered none -until he had nearly reached the broken door, but here he found them -gathered in force, and had to make another attack. His determined front -and darting sword, however, quickly cowed the men, and after a very -short struggle they gave back, and, rushing for the door, fought their -way out in absolute panic. - -Edgar did not trouble to follow up his advantage, but contented himself -with placing his lantern where its light would shine upon the broken -door, sitting down himself in a shadow and resting, while he watched and -listened. - -Half an hour passed away without any change. He could tell his pursuers -still lurked outside, but not once did they dare to return to the -attack. Then he heard cries of alarm and the sound of rapid footsteps. -A moment or two later a face appeared at the broken door, and he -recognized the merchant. - -"Is all well within?" he called breathlessly. - -"All is well," cried Edgar, coming forward. - -"God be praised!" cried the merchant in a voice of deep relief. "I have -brought an officer and ten men, and at the sight of us the vagabonds -made off." - -"'Tis well. We are safe from attack now." - -"Did the ruffians molest thee?" - -"Nay. And now, sir, I must make the best of my way back to my home at -Castle Wolsingham without loss of time. But before I go I pray thee -forgive me for the alarm I have caused thee and the ladies of thy -household. Thou know'st 'twas all done in the heat and extremity of the -moment, and wilt excuse my thoughtlessness." - -"I cannot regret aught that has gained me the acquaintance of one so -gallant," cried the merchant warmly. "Come with me, for I am sure the -ladies will desire an opportunity to thank thee for themselves." - -The gratitude of the merchant and his wife and daughters, now that their -alarm had subsided, was very great, and they united in praising Edgar -for what they termed his bravery. But Edgar laughed at them, and would -have no such term applied to what he called an afternoon's useful -practice with the sword. One destined to the trade of arms, he -disclaimed banteringly, must regard such a brush as of no more moment -than the merchant's assistants did the measuring of a bale of cloth. -But the merchant's daughters would not be denied, and showed their -admiration of the young esquire by pressing food and dainties upon him, -and by washing and tending the cripple lad, the unhappy cause of all the -disturbance. - -An offer of the loan of a horse gave Edgar an excuse to be gone and to -escape from irksome thanks and embarrassingly bright eyes. So as soon -as they had finished tending the cripple lad, whose name they soon found -out to be Peter, he bade them all goodbye, and, mounting the steed and -taking Peter up behind him, set off for Wolsingham once more. - -His strange and exciting adventure had ended in the loss of a horse and -the winning of a lad. How the latter was to be provided for, Edgar knew -no more than he knew, when he set out in the morning, that he would -return saddled with such a dependent. It was all very strange, but his -mind was fully made up that he could not readily part with a lad for -whom he had risked and ventured so much. - - - - - *CHAPTER V* - - *The Fracas* - - -It was late when Edgar reached the vicinity of Wolsingham, and, -preferring to obtain Geoffrey Fletcher's permission before he brought -Peter into the castle, he left him for the night at the farmhouse of one -of the tenants on the Wolsingham lands. He then rode on to the castle, -and, learning that Geoffrey was still up, made his way to him, and -related in detail all that had befallen that eventful afternoon. -Geoffrey was concerned at the loss of the horse, but made little of the -difficulty of the cripple lad. He could, he said, easily find -employment for him among the tenantry if he found it impossible to take -him into service within the castle. The latter would depend upon his -inspection of the lad on the morrow. He congratulated Edgar warmly upon -coming out of so serious a fracas with a whole skin, and strongly -advised him, if he were still bent upon continuing his lessons with -Gaspard, to choose a more public route until such time as the affair was -likely to have been forgotten. - -During the homeward journey, Edgar had learned from Peter all that he -could tell him of his life and parents. As he had expected, the lad's -parents were both dead--his mother but a few months since--and he had -only been allowed shelter in the house where his parents had lived by -the kindness of one of the women of the place. Her husband, however, -was of another mind, and, finding that the boy could give nothing in -payment, had turned him out of the house. - -Again and again he had stolen back, however, and the man's wrath had -increased beyond measure as he found him there time after time, until it -ended in the more than usually brutal beating which Edgar was -fortunately just in time to prevent becoming something worse. Of -relations, Peter had none--that he knew of; and without help, sympathy, -or hope he would in all probability, if he had survived and had remained -in those evil surroundings, have drifted imperceptibly into evil and -vicious courses. - -From this Edgar's intervention had saved him, and though as yet he did -not realize all that it meant, he was deeply grateful for the timely -succour. - -On the morrow Edgar took Peter in to Geoffrey, and then and there he was -placed in charge of the armourer, who had for some time been wanting a -boy to work his bellows. With healthy surroundings, good food, and fair -treatment, he soon lost much of his frail and ill-nourished appearance, -and but for his infirmity would in time have passed muster with other -youths of his rank and station. Indeed, even his infirmity gradually -lessened, until at last his limp, though still noticeable, marred his -appearance rather than his usefulness. - -The recollection of the stirring scenes they had been through together -always remained a bond of union between Edgar and Peter the armourer's -lad, and the desire to aid and the desire to serve remained with them -even after months and years had passed by. If Edgar wanted someone to -go on an errand, it was Peter who was only too delighted to go; and if -Peter had ever any desire beyond his work, it was always to Edgar that -he came for advice or permission. If anything, the bond between them -increased with the lapse of time, and it became a recognized thing in -the castle that Peter was the special protégé and retainer of Edgar -Wintour. - -Three or four years passed without any change of note taking place in -the affairs of the castle. Then its lord, Sir John Chartris, returned -from the wars, and an alteration was made that had a considerable -influence in the lives of more than one of its inmates. Sir John had -previously paid several visits to his home but had soon departed, for he -was constantly campaigning in Flanders, the south of France, or -elsewhere. On this occasion he returned alone, for his esquire had -recently been knighted, and had left him to take service under another -banner. - -As soon as the news that the office of personal esquire to Sir John was -vacant became known, the excitement and rivalry between Aymery -Montacute, Roland Mortimer, Robert Duplessis, Philip Soames, and Edgar -became intense. That such a contingency was likely soon to arise had -been known for some time, and each of them had nursed within himself the -secret hope that he might be the fortunate one and follow his master to -the wars. Rivalry had always existed between them, but naturally this -increased tenfold at the thought that a selection must soon be made, for -Sir John had so far steadily refused to take with him more than one -esquire. - -In prowess with weapons, both on foot and on horseback, Aymery, Roland, -and Edgar were generally considered to be about equal. But this -estimate was based on their performances in the castle courtyard and -gymnasium, and little account, if any, was taken of the fact that Edgar -always wore full armour, and, more even than this, wore his vizor down -in those encounters. His comrades, however, had become so used to -meeting him in this fashion, and made so little of it beyond a few half -good-humoured gibes at his supposed dislike for cuts and bruises, that -they overlooked the heavy handicap under which he laboured. Edgar, -however, had not forgotten it, and resolved that when a trial was made -to qualify one of their number for the coveted position, he would fight -unencumbered, in the hopes of being able easily to overcome all his -opponents. - -The lessons he had learned at Gaspard's, too, would then very largely -come into play for the first time. Several of the best strokes he had -there learnt and practised he never used at Wolsingham, partly because -he did not wish to accentuate the rivalry that already existed by easily -worsting his comrades, and partly because he had had from the first a -vague idea that a knowledge of new modes of attack or defence, about -which they knew nothing, might prove useful to him in the days to come. - -Several times the rivalry between him and one or two of his comrades had -led perilously near to an open quarrel; but Edgar so far had, by the -exercise of tact and a certain amount of forbearance, generally managed -to keep the peace. Twice, however, he had had high words with Aymery -and Roland over the rough manner in which they had treated Peter when -sending him on their errands. Even this had blown over, though it -remained an understood thing that if anyone wanted to annoy Edgar it was -a safe and sure plan to bully the cripple lad. - -A few weeks after Sir John's return home, it leaked out that it was -likely that he would take part in an expedition which was being -dispatched to Guienne under the leadership of the Earl of Derby. Much -was hoped for from this expedition, and it seemed certain that those -fortunate ones who took part in it would be in a fair way towards -winning much renown. It happened also that the greater part of the -lands to which Sir John's ward, Beatrice d'Alençon, was heiress, lay not -far from the probable scene of the expedition, and presently the further -news transpired that Sir John contemplated taking her with him, -accompanied by his elder daughter, Gertrude, with the object of seizing -an early opportunity of looking into the condition of her estates. - -As has already been explained, both Aymery and Roland had for years past -proudly worn the gage of Beatrice, with or without her permission, and -not unnaturally this news sent them nearly wild with the desire to -follow Sir John as his esquire. To take part in a famous campaign -beneath her very eyes would, they felt certain, be a sure means towards -gaining her admiration. - -From the moment this news leaked out their rivalry was fanned to -boiling-point, and the quarrels between them became constant. Only -Edgar's tact and self-control kept him from embroilment also; for though -they knew he was no rival so far as Beatrice was concerned, for he -openly scoffed at all such notions, they both feared his swordsmanship, -which might defeat their ambitions to follow Sir John to the wars. All -indeed that was needed to drag him within the circle of their strife was -something which would rouse his antagonism to the pitch at which theirs -normally stood. An explosion would then be inevitable. Unfortunately -this spark was presently supplied, and the unhappy cause of the mishap -was Peter, the armourer's lad. - -It happened that one day Aymery had set Peter to work to burnish up his -armour, which he had carelessly left exposed to the rain after he had -been going over it and fondly trying it on on the walls of the keep. -Peter went to work willingly enough, but the havoc was so great that by -the time he should have returned to the armourer it was only half done. -Hastily completing it, in a rough-and-ready fashion, he put it back in -the esquires' chamber and went on his way to the forge, intending to -finish the work as soon as he was again free. Presently two or three of -the pages entered the chamber, and Aymery's armour spread out on the -table was the first object to attract their attention. Not knowing or -caring to whom it belonged, and ripe for any sort of mischief, they -proceeded to amuse themselves by kicking and throwing the pieces about -the room. - -Tiring of the fun, the armour was left lying where it had fallen, and -remained there until Aymery and several of the esquires entered. - -"He refuses, Aymery," Roland was saying as they entered. "He saith that -the responsibility of looking after one esquire is enough for him, and -that the others must seek other opportunity of winning their spurs--at -the tourney, I think he meant." - -"Didst press thy claims to accompany him?" enquired Aymery sourly. - -"They need no pressing," responded Roland haughtily. "And 'tis not -_thy_ claims I fear." - -Aymery was about to make an angry retort when he noticed the pieces of -armour he so highly prized lying about the floor in all parts of the -room. - -"Who hath flung my armour here?" he cried, with a sudden burst of wrath. -"I will trounce him finely--upon my sword, I swear it--whoever the -varlet may be. Was't any of ye?" he ended fiercely, as he glared at the -shamefaced pages. - -The boys looked at one another uneasily, and then one more brazen than -the rest replied coolly: - -"Why dost not look after thy property, Aymery? Where didst leave it? -Not with any of us, I'll warrant." - -"Ah, I recollect! 'Twas with the armourer's boy I left it. Doubtless -he still thinketh 'tis only Edgar's bidding he must do. It seemeth I -must teach him another well-merited lesson. Bid him come to me at once, -Maurice--be off with thee!" - -The page sped off upon his errand, and the others waited, eyeing Aymery -expectantly, for they felt that something more than the chastisement of -an unruly youth was in the wind. At any moment Edgar Wintour might come -in, for it was nigh upon his time, and none thought that he would see -Aymery flog Peter without interfering. The angry esquire spent the -minute or two which elapsed before the boy's arrival in examining the -pieces of armour strewn about the floor, and the inspection apparently -did nothing to improve his temper. - -Peter had evidently been told what was afoot, for he went straight up to -Aymery immediately he entered. - -"You want me, sir," he said quietly. - -"Aye, varlet," cried Aymery, grasping him roughly by the collar, "dost -see my armour strewn about the floor? What dost mean by it? I will -break every bone in thy body, dog that thou art!" and he gave emphasis -to his savage words by shaking Peter with all his strength. - -"I placed them not there," cried Peter, twisting himself free. "I know -nothing of it." - -"Know nothing of it!" cried Aymery, still more incensed. "The work is -only half done--dost know nothing of that? Knave, get thee to work at -once and do it over again, or I will beat thee so thou canst not stand." - -Peter hesitated a moment, for the armourer was busy, and was, he knew, -awaiting his return with some impatience. Misunderstanding his -reluctance to do his behest, Aymery's wrath boiled up and over, and, -seizing the boy by the shoulders, he flung him across the table. - -"Come, Roland, aid me administer a sound thrashing to this obstinate -varlet. He thinketh 'tis only Wintour's bidding he must do, and hangeth -back when we command." - -Roland was only too ready, and grasped and held Peter while Aymery -snatched up a couple of armour buckles and belaboured him with all his -strength. There could be no doubt that Aymery was almost beside himself -with rage, for the buckles tore away Peter's clothing until they reached -and began to score deeply into the bare flesh--and still he went on. - -At first the lad bore the beating in silence, but as the buckles began -to cut into his back he commenced to scream with ever-increasing -intensity. - -It was in the midst of this that Edgar suddenly entered. The screams -and the sight of Peter, face downwards on the table and covered with -blood, smote him as a blow, and his face blanched in a way that none had -ever seen before. - -"Get thee gone, Wintour," cried Aymery recklessly. "This is well-merited -punishment, and interfere thou shalt not." - -For answer, Edgar sprang at the speaker, seized him round the waist, and -flung him heavily against the wall. Then he turned fiercely upon -Roland; but that worthy shrank back before his pale face and flashing -eyes, and, letting go Peter, fled to the wall and tore down a sword. - -Finding himself free, Peter crawled from the table and dragged himself -into the inner room, the door of which Edgar flung open while he faced -and kept watch upon his furious comrades. He, too, had snatched a sword -from the wall, and he now placed himself squarely in the doorway and -waited. The moment Aymery had recovered his balance, he felt at his side -and grasped the hilt of his sword. But Duplessis laid firm hand upon his -arm and whispered an urgent warning, and Aymery was not so mad but that -he was able to realize the dangerous folly of attacking Edgar with -sharpened and pointed weapon. Abandoning his first impulse, he followed -Roland's example, and, possessing himself of one of the blunted, -pointless weapons used in their practices, instantly attacked the figure -standing in the doorway of the room in which the cripple lad had taken -refuge, standing with ready poise as though prepared to dispute with all -present their right to pass unchallenged. - -The encounter that ensued was so reckless and desperate that none -present had seen the like before. Aymery at first seemed too angry to -trouble about defending, and hacked at his adversary with a fierce -rapidity that gave Edgar little time for other than parrying. In a -minute or two, however, he managed to give Aymery so strong a thrust -with his pointless weapon against his unjerkined chest that he was -compelled to cease pressing in to close quarters and to pay some -attention to defence. - -"Smite home, Aymery," cried Roland, thinking his friend was giving back. -"Smite home, or let me have my fling at the braggart!" - -Stung into more reckless activity, Aymery sprang again to the attack, -leaving his head for the moment unguarded. Before his own blow had -fallen, the flat of Edgar's weapon caught him heavily upon the side of -the head, and he fell back against the table, sick and half-fainting. -Edgar had scarcely stepped back into position before Roland was savagely -attacking him in his turn, secure in the possession of headpiece and -jerkin, which he had cautiously donned whilst the fight with Aymery was -proceeding. - -"Once thou didst gibe at me for fearing the weight of my comrades' -blows," laughed Edgar, as their blades ground together. "Why then this -jerkin? Why then this headpiece? Methinks 'tis another that most fears -the shock of blows upon skull and body." - -"Bah!" cried Roland, "if thou thinkest I care for thy blows I will tear -them off." - -"The result will be the same," retorted Edgar. "I care neither way. -Look to thy guard, or I vow thy headpiece will help thee little." - -Though fighting keenly, Edgar kept an eye upon the room as well as upon -his adversary. Aymery, he could see, was recovering from the blow he -had received, and in a moment might be expected to renew the fight with -temper little improved by the sharpness of his punishment. Others of -his comrades were whispering together, and he fancied they meditated an -attack to overcome his resistance and put an end to the conflict. - -Thinking it time to rid himself of Roland, for Aymery had given himself -a shake and grasped his sword anew, Edgar put into effect a trick he had -learned of Gaspard some years before. As their swords grated together -he locked his blade in the hilt of his opponent's sword, and, with a -sharp wrench, tore the weapon from his grasp. With a shout of pain, for -his wrist had been severely twisted, Roland jumped swiftly back out of -reach; then, recovering from his surprise, he seized another weapon from -the wall and sprang to the attack once more. Aymery was now also -attacking, and the two made such an onslaught that Edgar was compelled -to fence as he had never fenced before. - -Suddenly the door opened and Geoffrey Fletcher entered, followed by a -couple of men-at-arms. - -"Hold!" he cried. "Hold! Cease this brawling, or ye shall cool your -heels in the guardroom." - -But neither Aymery nor Roland paid any heed to his words; they were too -intent upon beating down Edgar's resistance. Roland had already -inflicted a severe blow upon his unprotected head, and, dizzy from the -effects, Edgar had retired a pace or two into the doorway, where the two -blades could play upon him less easily. - -"Men-at-arms, arrest these brawlers!" cried Geoffrey sternly, and -striding forward, followed by the two men, he seized Roland roughly by -the shoulder and struck down his sword with his own weapon. One of the -men-at-arms seized Aymery, and the other approached Edgar, who -immediately flung his sword upon the floor, and, folding his arms, -looked the man in the face. - -"There, Matthew!" he said, as quietly as his heaving chest would allow, -"take it--it has done its work so far. Then come with me and help me to -take poor Peter to his bed. He is the innocent cause of all this -unhappy mischief." - -Matthew picked up the weapon and went and looked at Peter, who was -supporting himself, half-fainting, against the wall. Then, recalled by -the stern voice of Geoffrey, he whispered: "I will return and see to -him, or send someone in my place." - -"Men-at-arms, march the prisoners to the guard-room, and keep them close -till Sir John's pleasure is known," commanded Geoffrey; and the -esquires, sobered by the recollection of their folly now that the heat -of the conflict was evaporating, marched unresistingly out of the -chamber down the stairs to the guardroom adjoining the castle gates. - - - - - *CHAPTER VI* - - *Sir John's Esquire* - - -The three esquires were kept closely confined the rest of the day and -all night in a cell leading out of the guardroom, watched over by a -man-at-arms, to see that there was no renewal of hostilities. The -interval gave them time for quiet reflection, and doubtless the first -conclusion they came to was that such a fracas was hardly likely to -commend any one of them to Sir John Chartris as being a suitable -candidate for the position of his personal esquire, especially at a time -when he was about to start for Guienne and Gascony accompanied by a -portion of his household. It was obvious that he would wish for an -esquire who possessed prudence as well as fighting capacity, when at any -time it might be necessary to leave him in sole charge of his affairs. - -To Edgar, at any rate, the thought was torture. Though he could scarcely -see how he could have acted otherwise--for the rescue of Peter he never -for a moment regretted--he yet felt angry with himself that he had not -somehow avoided a collision at a time so critical in his career. -However his comrades may have got on, he himself scarcely slept a wink -all night. - -It was nearly midday when a summons came to the prisoners that they were -to prepare themselves for an interview with Sir John. Half an hour -later Geoffrey appeared, again accompanied by a guard of men-at-arms, -and the three esquires were marched across the courtyard to the council -chamber of Sir John, high up in the walls of the keep. Curious eyes -watched them pass by, for the news that there had been a serious fracas -in the esquires' quarters had spread like wildfire through the castle. -Some commiseration was expressed at their ill luck in the affair -happening whilst Sir John was at the castle, and, consequently, in their -having to appear before him, for he was known to be something of a -martinet. - -As they approached the door of Sir John's chamber it opened, and a youth -stepped out. It was Peter, the armourer's assistant. Aymery and Roland -looked at one another gloomily. His presence hardly augured well for -them. - -The first thing the three young men noticed as they were ushered into -the room was that Sir Percy Standish as well as Sir John Chartris was -present. Both knights were seated at a table fronting the doorway, and -Geoffrey ranged the three esquires facing them, with a man-at-arms on -either flank. He then took a seat at Sir Percy's side. - -"What am I to think of my esquires," began Sir John in a stern, -upbraiding voice, as he fixed his steel-grey eyes upon each of the young -men in turn, "what am I to think of the example they set to my -men-at-arms and retainers when they brawl thus amongst themselves? How -can I entrust to them the command of soldiers when they have no command -over themselves and less knowledge of discipline?" - -"But, Sir John----" began Aymery hotly. - -"Cease, boy!--I will hear no excuses. There can be no excuse for the -men I command to fight amongst themselves. Had this breach of -discipline occurred in face of the enemy I would surely have sent ye -back to your homes--disgraced esquires. Now ye shall spend the rest of -the day and night in the guard chamber, to meditate upon my words and -your own folly; and for two weeks more the sentinel at the gate will -have orders to refuse you exit. Dost understand?" - -The three esquires murmured assent. - -"Then, Geoffrey, remove the prisoners, and see that my commands are -obeyed." - -The three esquires were marched back to their cell, gloomy and cast -down. Sir John's words and the sentence had sounded the death knell of -all their hopes of becoming Sir John's esquire and accompanying him to -the wars, and Aymery and Roland, at least, felt with bitter certainty -that it was their own cruelty and overbearing conduct they had to thank -for it. In their distress of mind a truce was patched up between the -three esquires, and though Edgar could not yet forget the others' -cruelty to poor Peter, and they could not so soon forget their heavy -defeat, they tacitly agreed to let the matter rest and to be as friendly -as they could. - -At the end of the fortnight of confinement within the precincts of the -castle Sir John sent for Edgar. Wondering what the summons might mean, -coming so close upon his disgrace, Edgar made speed to obey. - -"This quarrel of thine," began Sir John abruptly, though in a not -unkindly tone; "I have made enquiries, and I am not disposed to make too -much of thy mischance. Perhaps, even, I may think that thou didst not -altogether ill to break my rules and to defend the lad. Geoffrey hath -told me how it came about that thou didst save the lad at peril of thine -own life, and doubtless 'twould be too hard to expect thee to hold thy -peace when thy comrades were mishandling him." - -Sir John paused for a moment and looked at him thoughtfully, and Edgar, -thinking something required of him, murmured: "Thank you, Sir John." - -"But how didst come to learn that trick with the sword that hath set thy -comrades wondering?" went on the knight in a brisker tone. "I mean that -catch of thy weapon that tore Roland's from his grasp?" - -"'Twas learned at Gaspard's, Sir John." - -"Gaspard's? And who is Gaspard?" - -"He is the founder of a school of arms in London town to which I have -been going twice in every week. I thought perhaps Geoffrey had told -thee that it was on the return from one of my visits to Gaspard's that I -rescued Peter." - -"Ha, yes! He did mention it, but I paid no heed. Didst not then feel -satisfied with Sir Percy's teaching?" - -"Yes, sir; but after a time I thought that I might learn more, and might -obtain a knowledge of more varied forms of attack and defence, did I -seek other practices." - -"Thou wert right. 'Tis well not to move in too narrow a circle. I -found that out, overlate, in my first battle, and for the lack I paid -heavily in blood and pain. However, I learned my lessons in time. But -how dost fare at Gaspard's? Art put quite in the shade?" - -"He tells me," replied Edgar slowly, and flushing slightly, "that I am -his most promising pupil. Oftentimes he asks me to have a bout with -visitors who have heard of his school and who would try how far his -instruction extends." - -"Ha! That sounds vastly to thy credit. And dost win these bouts or -dost lose?" - -"I lose sometimes," replied Edgar evasively, wishing the knight would -not press the point so far. - -"I must see this Gaspard," said Sir John reflectively. "My sword hath -been idle of late, and 'twould not come amiss to practise on his pupils -ere I join our forces in Guienne; but, ha! at any rate I can practise on -his most promising pupil. Get thy sword, Edgar, and I will test thy -prowess for myself." - -"Nay, sir, I beg thou wilt not; 'twere scarce seemly for esquire----" - -"Ho! ho! Thou fearest to beat me?--or dost fear to be put to the test? -Nay, 'tis not the latter; I wrong thee there, I am sure. Well, never -mind, lad, I have other matters to think of for the moment. I purpose -to make thee my esquire. What dost think of it?" - -Edgar gave a start for sheer joy. - -"Think of it, Sir John? It is all I could desire in all the world. I -will serve thee--I do not say well, but as well as it is in my power to -do." - -"There are other things than fighting and riding to be done, Edgar. -Thou mayst have to stay behind when I go campaigning, to look after the -ladies and to see to my interests. For this I need a cool head and a -devoted heart. Canst fulfil these conditions?" - -"I will try so to do, Sir John." - -"Very well. I appoint thee my esquire. Every morning thou wilt come to -me for thy instructions. In three weeks, if the weather favours our -projects, we set sail for Guienne, and in those three weeks we must have -furbished up our arms, selected the men-at-arms and archers who are to -accompany us, and hied us to the coast." - -Edgar's joy was so great that he could scarcely collect his thoughts, -but at last he managed to stammer out his thanks. - -"Say no more, Edgar. Now go, and see thou keep'st the peace with thy -comrades. They will be sorely disappointed, but thou hast earned thy -reward and they have not. I am glad 'tis thee, Edgar Wintour, who wilt -accompany me, for thy father's sake as well as for thine own. Thou -know'st what he did for me? Well, he desired that thou shouldst make -thy way by thine own efforts, without help from me, and so far thou hast -done so indeed. Now go, and bear thyself generously towards thy less -fortunate comrades." - -The next two weeks were weeks of delight to Edgar. In all that -appertained to the expedition to Guienne he became Sir John's -lieutenant; and when, some three days before the time came to march for -the coast, Sir John was called away to London to consult with the Earl -of Derby, Edgar was left in sole charge of the contingent of twenty men -and the ladies of the household who were to accompany them. - -On the day on which it had been arranged for the march to the coast to -commence Sir John had not returned. Word soon arrived, however, that he -had been detained, and would make the journey direct in the train of the -Earl of Derby. Edgar was to set out at once with the Wolsingham -men-at-arms and ladies, and was to meet him at Dover. - -Gaily the company mustered. The men-at-arms were all picked men, well -armed, and in the best of spirits at the prospect of the stirring times -before them. The ladies were wild with delight at the change from the -dull round of their life, spent mainly behind the walls of the castle. -The glitter of weapons and the gleam of armour, the bright dresses of -the ladies and the glossy coats of the horses, made a pretty picture -against the sombre, massive walls of the castle, and Edgar, as he slowly -convinced himself that he really was, for the time at any rate, to -command this little force, was dazzled at his wonderful good fortune. -Looking as unconcerned as he could, however, he bade his comrades and -Geoffrey a most cordial farewell, and then gave the word to march. With -deafening fanfare of trumpets the cavalcade wound round the courtyard, -under the frowning portcullis, and across the drawbridge to the sunny -countryside. All seemed to smile in happiness to Edgar as he rode in -the rear, his heart bounding with gladness and hope. Could he have -looked forward a few months and become aware of the strange vicissitudes -and heart-shaking adventures he would have to face in the sunny south of -France, it may be that he would have been less glad and a little more -thoughtful. - - - - - *CHAPTER VII* - - *To Guienne* - - -"What wouldst do, Sir Edgar?" enquired Beatrice d'Alençon in a tone of -formality, but with a lurking air of mock respect, as Edgar, in riding -towards the front of the column, passed by the steeds of the two ladies. -"What wouldst do an we were to disobey thy commands? Oh, I know thou -art said to be wonderful with thy sword, but though that may impress the -men-at-arms, it is naught to us." - -Edgar smiled and made as though to pass on without speaking. - -"Answer me, sir, for I have a mind to go my own way now that we are free -from Sir John and that odious Geoffrey." - -"Thou wilt not disobey," replied Edgar quietly. - -"Oho!--that is soon decided. Dost see yon hill, Edgar Wintour? I am -tired of trotting along this dusty lane, and have made up my mind to a -gallop across these fields to its summit. The view is doubtless -charming. Come, Gertrude--let us see who will reach it first." - -"Maiden, do no such thing," cried Edgar, quickly grasping the young -girl's bridle as she turned her steed. - -Quick as lightning Beatrice gave his horse a sharp cut with her whip, -and the animal plunged so violently that Edgar involuntarily let go his -hold. - -With a ringing laugh of triumph, Beatrice urged on her steed, bounded -across the low bushes which bordered the roadway, and made straight for -the hill. - -Stung to anger at being tricked, and still more so at sundry sly -chuckles from one or two of the men-at-arms, Edgar gave instant chase -and galloped furiously after. But though he did not spare his steed, -the fugitive was not overtaken until she had reached the summit of the -hill and had drawn rein to admire the prospect. - -"'Tis fine, is it not, Edgar?" enquired the young girl, flushed and -sparkling with the sharp gallop, as she pretended to admire the prospect -while glancing furtively at the young esquire. - -"I will not have it, Beatrice," cried Edgar, as he grasped her bridle -with a grip that he did not mean to be shaken off. "What catastrophe -may I not have to report to Sir John if thou goest on so wilfully?" - -"Release my bridle," commanded Beatrice indignantly. "Thou wilt make me -wish that Aymery or Roland were Sir John's esquire instead of thee, -Edgar Wintour." - -"'Twould be strange if thou didst not do so a'ready," replied Edgar -calmly. "I have no claims to their flattering tongues or courtly ways. -But if ever a time of stress cometh mayhap thou wilt then be the less -discontented." - -"Art going to lead me back to our party with hand on my bridle?" cried -Beatrice haughtily, albeit with a hint of pleading in her voice. - -"Nay, I will not so humiliate thee. But remember, Beatrice, ours is an -expedition of war, and not a pleasure excursion. Obedience must needs -be given." - -"Surely thou art taking thy first command over-seriously," replied -Beatrice scoffingly. "What need is there to exact obedience from -Gertrude and me? We are not men-at-arms." - -"This reason, Beatrice. At our last stop I was informed that the -district was infested with robbers and brigands, who had become much -emboldened since interest had been so centred in the war. What then if -ye had become lost and had fallen into their hands?" - -"I would that the robbers would capture thee, Edgar Wintour," cried -Beatrice quickly, as she galloped back to Gertrude's side. - -Edgar laughed, though somewhat ruefully, and followed her example. - -The rest of the journey passed without incident. Oftentimes, however, -Edgar found his energies taxed to the utmost to keep the spirits of his -young charges within reasonable bounds. Sometimes they scoffed at him -and sometimes defied him, but with the aid of a half hint that if the -worst came to the worst they would have to ride behind a man-at-arms, he -managed to keep them in fair order. It was with a sigh of relief, so -far as they were concerned, however, that he rode into Dover town. - -Sir John had arrived and was awaiting their coming at the rendezvous -agreed upon. After the first greetings were over, and the ladies were -as comfortably disposed of as the crowded state of the inns would allow, -he led Edgar aside. - -"How went the journey hither? Are the ladies well and the men-at-arms -of good hap? I hope thou didst maintain a firm discipline, Edgar." - -"The ladies are well and the journey passed without mishap. I had no -trouble with the men, though I fear the ladies were inclined to be -somewhat unruly. I hope thou art well also, Sir John?" - -"Well enough, lad. We embark to-morrow, and all told the Earl of Derby -will muster a force of three thousand men. We shall land at Bayonne, -and probably march on to Bordeaux. That is as much as it behoves me to -tell thee of the expedition at present. There is, however, one other -thing I must acquaint thee of at once, as it is closely concerned, I do -greatly fear, with mine own personal safety. During this expedition, it -is like enough that my life will be in constant jeopardy, not from the -enemy but from one amongst my own side. The truth is, I have an enemy, -and I look to thee, lad, to aid me to frustrate his evil designs." - -"I will indeed do all I can, Sir John. But who is this dastard who in -time of war would aim at the life of one of his own countrymen? Tell me -his name, I pray thee, so that I may know him and thus be able to guard -thee the more certainly." - -"'Tis Sir Gervaise de Maupas. He is unknown to thee at present, but -before we are through with this expedition thou art likely to know him -only too well. He is a man of evil character, unless my judgment and -that of some others are at fault, though he well knoweth how to -ingratiate himself into the good opinion of those in authority. He hath -already gained the ear of the earl, and that alone bodeth ill for me. -The cause of our enmity dateth back many years, to the time when his -father was dispossessed of his estates for treason and they were -bestowed upon my father. He hath been trained from childhood to -consider me and mine as his most bitter enemies, and he seemeth to have -learned his lesson well. More than that, we have had high words on two -occasions, and once we have met in single combat. He was worsted, and -since then he hath lost no opportunity of revenging himself most fully. - -"I have been stabbed in the back on English soil by a miscreant whose -object was certainly not robbery. I was turning as he struck or I -should not be here now. The man escaped, but I caught a fleeting -glimpse of him, and two months later I saw talking with Sir Gervaise a -man who resembled him most uncomfortably. Until now, fortunately for -me, I have never been in the same quarter of the field as Sir Gervaise, -but now that we are thrown together it behoves us to keep watch and -ward--Hist! This is he, Edgar." - -Startled by the sudden change of tone, Edgar glanced quickly in the -direction in which Sir John was looking and saw a tall and somewhat -gaunt knight sauntering easily towards them. He was dressed in silks in -the height of fashion and made a brave show, though the expression of -his strongly marked features seemed to Edgar to consort but ill with his -dainty attire. As he came closer, his evil expression intensified and -became so ugly and insolent a scowl that Edgar saw Sir John's hand steal -involuntarily to his sword hilt. Noticing the action, Sir Gervaise's -face relaxed into a smile hardly less forbidding than his frown, as he -snarled: - -"Never fear, thou shalt soon have opportunity an thou dost desire it." - -"I do desire it, De Maupas. Thine insolence alone merits chastisement, -but besides and above all that there is a matter between us that can -never be wiped away until thou hast bit the dust." - -"Thou art right, Sir John. The deeds of thy grasping forbears stand -between us, and one of us, I swear, shall be humiliated before many -months are past." - -"I speak of far viler things than those, things too of more recent -date--things that, could I but prove them, would send thee hotfoot to a -felon's cell." - -Sir Gervaise ground his teeth as he glanced uneasily from Sir John to -his esquire. - -"Darest thou make such shameful allegations against me openly? Darest -thou speak out boldly to the earl, or must thou, like a baseborn coward, -hint darkly and secretly against mine honour?" - -"Thou well knowest I can prove nothing, Sir Gervaise, until I prove it -on thy body. Wilt meet me in single combat _à outrance_?" - -"I will. And I swear to punish thee. The earl purposes a tourney when -he doth enter Bordeaux. Then thy chance will come unless thou hast -thought better of it. Ha! Ha! Perchance when the time cometh, Sir -John Chartris may not be so eager to meet Sir Gervaise de Maupas face to -face and lance to lance in a fight to the death?" - -"Thou wilt see. At Bordeaux I will challenge thee publicly, and thou -wilt be compelled to answer for thy ill deeds with lance, sword, and -dagger." - -With a smile which seemed to Edgar one of malicious triumph, Sir -Gervaise turned on his heel and sauntered slowly away. Sir John looked -after him for a minute with a frowning face which showed plainly how -deeply his anger had been stirred. Then he turned to Edgar and said: - -"I would not miss meeting Sir Gervaise for all I possess, Edgar. What I -fear most, however, is that he may find some pretext for avoiding a -conflict, so do thou make it public that at the earl's tourney Sir John -Chartris will issue a challenge to Sir Gervaise de Maupas to a combat _à -outrance_. Thus only, when all are agog with expectation, can we be sure -that he will not disappoint us." - -"I will see to it, Sir John. I will make the encounter so public that -it will be hard indeed for De Maupas to find a way out with honour." - -The next day the whole of the expeditionary force embarked, and sail was -set for the south of France. Edgar was kept very busy, for Sir John, -who was often in attendance on the Earl of Derby, left in his hands all -the arrangements for the accommodation of the Wolsingham ladies and -their maids on shore and afloat, the victualling of the Wolsingham -men-at-arms and their horses during the voyage, and the responsibility -of seeing to the general comfort and wellbeing of the whole of the -party. - -He carried out his many duties, however, with a thoroughness that soon -earned him the respect and affection of all concerned, except perhaps of -the ladies, who may have missed the gallantries of Aymery and Roland and -have found Edgar's directness not altogether to their liking. Certainly -the lady Beatrice more than once rallied him severely upon a devotion to -duty that scarce, she said, permitted him to smile at a merry thrust. - -But Edgar lightly passed the matter off, for he was indeed far too -absorbed in the coming campaign to care to take the place of either -Aymery or Roland. The mention of a tourney, too, had given him much -food for thought. It seemed possible that some place might be found for -esquires in the proceedings, and might not he as well as his master -figure in the conflicts? Full of the idea, and dreading lest he might -be getting somewhat out of practice with the sword--for since he had -been esquire to Sir John he had been so busy that he had had fewer -opportunities for practising than formerly--Edgar set Peter to make -enquiries and to find out if any men-at-arms or esquires of especial -note for skill with weapons were accompanying the expedition. - -After a voyage swift and pleasant, though quite devoid of incident, the -fleet arrived at Bayonne, where the earl's force landed and marched -along the coast to Bordeaux. Here the army encamped, and, having joined -forces with the available troops of the province, mustered quite a -goodly array. To Sir John's stern delight, it was not long before the -Earl of Derby proposed a tournament, with the object of interesting the -townspeople in the campaign and of strengthening the warlike spirit of -his men in readiness for active operations. His proposals were received -with general acclamation, and, a date being fixed, the arrangements -proceeded with the greatest speed and enthusiasm. - -From the first day of his arrival at the camp Edgar had put into -operation his scheme for obtaining useful practice, and several old -campaigners among both the English and Gascon forces had been induced by -offers of sundry good cheer to venture a bout with the eager esquire. -Most of the men he found were hardly up to their reputations, but from -some he was able to glean useful knowledge of yet more varied modes of -attack and defence. At the same time the practices served excellently -to keep him in perfect trim and fitness. - -The reward for this diligence came when it was presently announced that -the tourney would open with a contest of esquires before the more -serious work of the day was entered upon. - -The contest of honour between Sir John Chartris and Sir Gervaise de -Maupas was fixed for the afternoon, immediately after the contest -between knights on foot. By general consent this encounter was regarded -as the most important and interesting of the whole tourney, partly -because of the well-established reputations of the two knights, but more -especially because the bad blood existing between them made it certain -that the encounter would be fought out to the bitter end. - -Some three days before the date fixed for the tourney, Peter drew Edgar -aside. - -"I fear there is something afoot, Master Edgar, that bodeth ill for -someone." - -"Oh, and what is that, Peter?" - -"There have been two men of hangdog looks haunting this end of the camp -for several days. As thou know'st, I have lived in the midst of -cutthroats and ruffians and know something of their ways, and methinks -these men are seeking an opportunity to plunder." - -"But to plunder whom?" - -"Sir John, I fear. Know'st thou if he hath brought much money or -valuables with him?" - -"I have not heard of it, and if _I_ know not I see not how others can -have learned it." - -"Then I must be mistaken. It is doubtless some other knight they wish -to rob, for that they are after something of the sort I am wellnigh -certain." - -Suddenly Edgar recollected what Sir John had told him of the attempt -upon his life which had, he thought, been planned by Sir Gervaise. It -seemed improbable that De Maupas would again make such an attempt, -especially as he would so soon have ample opportunity for revenge in the -encounter in the lists. Still, it would be well that no stone should be -left unturned that might affect his master's safety. - -"After all, Peter, keep a close watch upon these men. Though their evil -designs may not be directed against us, I would still frustrate them an -we can. Keep an eye upon them without being thyself seen, and find out -whether they have any friends within the camp." - -"I will, sir;" and Peter limped off with the air of one setting about a -task especially congenial to him. - -Nothing, however, occurred in any way suspicious until the very eve of -the tournament. By that time everything in connection with the -arrangements had been settled, and the esquires of the English army had -been rendered wild with excitement at the news that the proceedings -would be opened by a mêlée between seven esquires chosen from amongst -their number and a like number selected from among their Gascon allies. - -Originally this spectacular encounter had been intended for knights, -but, fearing that the victory of either side might lead to jealousy and -hinder the harmonious working of the two branches of his army, the Earl -of Derby prohibited the engagement in the form proposed, and substituted -for it a general mêlée in which the members of the two competing bodies -were drawn promiscuously from amongst the knights of both nations. - -The projectors of the original scheme, however, unwilling to abandon -their proposal altogether, urged that the objections brought against it -hardly applied to a contest amongst esquires. To this the earl -assented, and it was finally arranged that in the esquires' mêlée the -two sides should be drawn from amongst the English and Gascon troops -respectively. The news was received with acclamation, and it soon -became abundantly evident that, although the contest was one for -esquires only, its unusual character had invested it with much more than -the usual interest. - -On the English side some thirty of the better-known esquires were -quickly selected, and invited to compete among themselves for the honour -of representing their nation in the coming contest. Edgar was one of -those invited to compete, and, doing well in all his encounters, -eventually found himself one of the seven chosen representatives of the -squirehood of the English army. - -Scarcely had he had time to receive the congratulations of his friends -upon his good fortune, and to indulge in pleasant dreams of the stirring -encounters and ultimate victory that he confidently believed awaited his -side, before an event happened that drove the whole thing from his mind -almost as completely as though it had never been even mooted. - -It has already been observed that it was not until the very eve of the -tournament that Edgar had any suspicions that aught was in any way amiss -with Sir John or his affairs. He was in his tent at the time, about to -retire for the night somewhat earlier than usual, in anticipation of the -trying ordeal of the morrow, when someone tapped at the canvas. - -"Enter," responded Edgar. - -Peter entered, and from his heaving chest and anxious face Edgar saw at -once that something had happened. - -"What is it, Peter?" he cried quickly. - -"The ladies Gertrude and Beatrice have sent me hither to enquire whether -aught hath been seen of Sir John. He hath not yet returned, though he -was expected long since. As thou know'st, he always sups with them at -their inn in the town before he returns to the camp for the night." - -"I know. So he hath not yet returned? He went for his usual ride about -the countryside this afternoon, and, not seeing him more, I thought he -must be in the town with the ladies. What can have occurred to keep -him?" - -"Dost think those evilly-disposed men have had aught to do with it, -Master Edgar?" - -The same thought had occurred to Edgar, but, dreading it, he had tried -to put it away from him. It came back with the force of a blow when he -found that the same idea had struck Peter. - -"It may be so, Peter," he replied reluctantly. "I hope it may only be -that he hath been detained--perchance because his horse hath cast a -shoe--but I cannot help a feeling of dread lest it be that those men -have had something to do with it. Didst ever find out aught concerning -them?" - -"Nothing, save that one of them spoke one day to Sir Gervaise de Maupas; -but as he flew into a violent rage at the man accosting him, I did not -think there could be any connection between them." - -"Ah!" groaned Edgar. "Then I fear the worst. I have not told thee, -Peter--and heavy is my responsibility for it--that emissaries of Sir -Gervaise did once attempt Sir John's life. Sir John told me in order -that I might the better watch over his safety, and right badly have I -done it!" - -"But scarce could we have prevented this, Master Edgar. None would have -thought of watching over Sir John while he was in the saddle and fully -armed." - -"Nay, but I might have warned him that assassins were on the lurk. But -this is no time for self-reproachings. I must do all I can to repair -the mischief done. Bring me a spare horse, Peter, and tell Matthew to -be in the saddle and ready waiting for me outside the north gate of the -town in a quarter of an hour. Late as it is, we must scour the -countryside. Sir John may be lying wounded in some lonely wood, or be -yet defending himself against cowardly adversaries. Quickly, Peter, for -thy master's life!" - -Peter limped away at the top of his speed, and Edgar quickly threw off -his outer clothes and put on a light shirt of mail made of tiny links of -interlaced steel, similar to that which Sir John, as a precaution -against his enemy, usually wore when not in armour. The shirt of mail -fitted closely, and when his doublet was donned once more no one would -have guessed that so thorough a protection lay hidden beneath its folds. - -Quick as he was, the lad was back with his horse as soon as he was -ready, and Edgar instantly mounted and rode off into the town of -Bordeaux, first bidding Peter set to work to find, if possible, some -trace of the suspected men. - -On arriving at the inn where the ladies Gertrude and Beatrice were -staying, Edgar found them still up, anxiously awaiting news. - -"He hath not yet returned, then?" he cried, as he saw their anxious -faces. - -"No. Surely someone hath seen him?" cried Gertrude in alarm. - -"No one. But do not distress thyself so soon. I am going to sally out -with Matthew to scour the countryside, and if Sir John is anywhere near, -surely we shall come upon him. Doubtless he hath merely met with some -trifling accident that keepeth him back for a few hours." - -"Yes, Gertrude," put in Beatrice, laying her hand on her friend's arm, -"thy father is too hardy and experienced a warrior and horseman easily -to come to harm. I will warrant he will be back ere day dawns. -Nevertheless," she went on, turning to Edgar, "thou hadst better make -search as thou hast purposed, Master Wintour, unless, indeed, thou art -fearful of spoiling thy chances in the mêlée to-morrow by passing the -night thus." - -"I care not a fig for the mêlée, so be it I can see Sir John back safe -and sound," cried Edgar hastily, considerably nettled at the smile which -accompanied the last remark, and, saluting, he turned on his heel and -strode from the room. Here he paused for a moment, and, retracing his -steps, told the ladies it would be useless for them to wait up longer, -as the gates of the city would shortly close, and no one would be able -to pass either in or out before daybreak. - -For some hours the night was moonlit, and Edgar and Matthew, dividing -the countryside between them, scoured it for miles and miles around. -Full of anxiety, for Edgar had communicated his fears to the -man-at-arms, they rode hard and fast, with little regard for their own -necks or the limits of the horses they bestrode, and by the time the sky -clouded over so that further real progress was impossible, they had -become convinced that Sir John was nowhere in the vicinity. Returning -to the camp, Edgar called Peter to him. - -"Well, Peter, didst find out aught?" - -"Nay, sir. None hath seen the two men of late, so perchance they know -naught of this matter, after all." - -"That, at least, is good news, and it may well turn out that nothing -serious hath happened to Sir John. Now, Peter, I am going to lie down -for an hour or two. Rouse me at daybreak, for I must acquaint the -ladies Gertrude and Beatrice of the poor success of my search as soon as -the city gates are open." - -Peter nodded and retired, and Edgar flung himself down just as he was, -and almost instantly fell into a deep slumber. - -It was long after sunrise when he awoke, and furious with Peter for -letting him sleep so long, he hurried to the lad's tent. - -"Why did ye not call me, Peter?" he cried angrily. - -"All is well, Master Edgar. I have been into the town, and have told -the ladies that there is no news, and that thou wert worn out with -searching, and sleeping heavily. I have hopes that thou wilt make thy -name in the mêlée to-day; but what chance would there be of thy doing -thyself justice after wearing thyself out riding all night long?" - -Too angry to bandy words with the lad, and realizing, too, that it was -out of regard for him that he had disobeyed his orders, Edgar strode -back to his tent, hastily washed himself, and then rode into the town. -He had no good news to tell, and the ladies could not help but feel that -something serious must be keeping Sir John, or he would certainly have -either appeared in person or have sent someone to tell them of his -detention elsewhere. It was for them a time of anxiety and perplexity, -and Edgar could do little save suggest all sorts of accidents that might -have kept the knight back for a few hours. - -One thing besides his master's life, however, Edgar felt he had to -consider, and that was his honour. With the contest of the afternoon -Sir John's honour was now closely bound up. The utmost publicity had -been given to the affair, and did he not appear and answer to the -challenge of Sir Gervaise de Maupas, he would be regarded on all sides -as a dishonoured knight. Edgar felt this most keenly, and resolved that -at all costs he would keep the secret of Sir John's disappearance from -becoming known, so that if he returned at the last moment, as he might -well do, idle tongues would have had no cause to wag against him. - -No one besides the ladies, Matthew, and Peter knew that Sir John was -missing, and all these he swore to silence. They were ready enough to -agree, for none could think that so experienced a warrior as Sir John -could have been overcome so easily as to disappear and leave no trace. -In fact, Matthew roundly declared that an hour or so before the contest -with Sir Gervaise was timed to commence would see him back, and the -others fervently hoped that he might prove to be right. - - - - - *CHAPTER VIII* - - *The Lists of Bordeaux* - - -Completely forgetting that he was one of the seven chosen to do battle -for the English esquires against the best of their Gascon allies, Edgar -spent the little time left of the morning in making enquiries of all who -might have seen Sir John at any point during his afternoon's -ride--countrymen coming in with carts laden with farm produce, the men -who had kept watch during the afternoon and evening along the outer side -of the camp, and any others who might possibly have some news to tell, -however meagre. His enquiries were quite fruitless, however, and his -fears that there might have been foul play gradually returned to him as -the morning wore on. At last he returned to the camp and sent for -Peter. - -"Peter," he said, "I want thee now to keep close watch to see who doth -visit Sir Gervaise de Maupas. I begin to feel once more that he is at -the bottom of the mischief; and it hath occurred to me that if his -emissaries have waylaid Sir John they will, if they have not done so -already, come to him to report the result of their vile plot. Keep -watch, then, and see who the men are, and if thou canst do so quietly, -call Matthew and scruple not to seize them on some pretext or another. -Pick a quarrel with them--anything, so long as ye lay hands on them and -keep them till I come." - -Peter nodded, as though in entire approval, and limped off upon his -errand, and Edgar turned to find Arthur Pomeroy, mounted and armed, -waiting for him with every sign of impatience a pace or two away. - -"So this is the way thou dost spend the precious moments--gibbering with -stableboys and camp followers, Edgar Wintour," he cried in a voice of -disgust. "'Tis but twenty minutes short of noon, and thou not in the -saddle and not a piece of thine armour girded on. Hast gone daft, man, -or forgotten that the onset sounds at noon?" - -"I have been busy, Arthur, and could wish that thou wouldst find some -other to take my place. Let the best of those who were tried and passed -over take the lance in my stead--each of them was well worthy to -represent our squirehood to-day." - -"Tush, Edgar, talk not such nonsense! Rather would I hold back our -whole band until thou wert ready, though 'twere an hour. Get on thine -armour without more ado. Where is thy boy?" - -"I have sent him upon an errand of great import to me. Give me a hand -and I will soon be ready." - -With an angry snort Arthur set spurs to his horse and galloped away -through the camp like a whirlwind. In half a minute he was back, and -two lads following at top speed proclaimed that he had not been idle. - -"Come hither, varlets, and gird on this armour. Quickly, now, unless ye -wish the Frenchmen to get the better of us." - -Rapidly the pieces of armour were strapped and buckled on until Edgar -stood complete, a wall of shining steel. - -"Where is thy gage?" - -"I have none." - -"What? Hast thou no damsel to watch for thine entry into the lists?" - -"Nay." - -Arthur shrugged his shoulders in perplexity. "Well, every man to his -taste. Where is now thy horse? Where dost stable it?" - -"Straight along the lines a furlong. Let the youths bring the gear, and -for the nonce I will walk to it." - -It was still five minutes short of noon when Edgar mounted and, closely -shepherded by Arthur Pomeroy, who seemed to fear he might yet escape, -rode off to the competitors' enclosure adjoining the lists. - -"Thou must know," said Arthur, "that I have agreed with the leader of -the Gascon esquires that our men shall be placed facing opponents of the -same relative powers. 'Twould be a poor spectacle if our best were -pitted against their weakest and their strongest against our tail end; -so we have, for the first onset only, arranged that best shall meet -best, and so forth. Thou art matched against Gaston Dugarde." - -"I know nothing of him," replied Edgar. "Is he weak?" - -"Weak! Thou wilt see. We have not thrown thee away." - -Exactly how to take the reply Edgar hardly knew, but he was too full of -his great trouble and too anxious to be through with the present -encounter to care to enquire further. The intense eagerness with which -he had looked forward to so thrilling a mêlée had gone, and he now only -wished it over, that he might continue his enquiries respecting Sir -John. - -As they cantered into the enclosure, however, he felt his enthusiasm -revive. No one could view the glittering scene unmoved, and to Edgar, -who had never been to a tournament before, the scene was full of meaning -and interest. The wide sweep of the lists, the towering stands at the -middle, the dense masses of spectators--a large proportion of whom were -soldiers--the glitter of armour, and the tramp of spirited chargers, all -struck the fullest note of chivalry and warriorhood. - -"Come, Arthur," cried one of the English esquires impatiently, "thou art -behindhand. Guy de Parfrey hath marshalled his men, and awaits us." - -"No matter, Stephen, since we are now seven. Now, comrades all, wheel -into line in the order agreed upon. Forget not the rules--I would not -that we scored by transgressing them. Strike home, and remember 'tis -St. George for England!" - -The English esquires wheeled into their places and, headed by their -captain, Arthur Pomeroy, cantered gaily into the lists in single file -simultaneously with their adversaries. Amidst a gay fanfare of -trumpets, the two lines of steel-clad horsemen filed, saluting, before -the Earl of Derby. Then, without a pause, they diverged to their own -ends of the lists, each man halting his steed and turning as the line -passed his own position. In a very few seconds the files of prancing -horsemen became two lines of motionless figures with lances couched, -facing one another watchfully. - -There was but a slight pause, and then the marshals gave the signal for -the onset. And loud the trumpets blared! - -With a thunder of hoofs, the two walls of steel dashed swiftly inwards, -as though drawn by a gigantic magnet, and met in the centre of the lists -with a crash that could be heard for miles. Indeed, men passing to and -fro in the city streets and alleys heard the noise, and stopped to -question one another as to what it portended. - -Five men--two English and three Gascons--bit the dust in that first -terrific onset, and the survivors, with few thoughts for the vanquished, -rode at one another fiercely, and with sword, lance, or axe, whichever -was most to their user's liking, hewed and thrust at one another with -heartiest goodwill. - -Edgar struck his opponent full on the shield with the point of his -lance, and, to his surprise, the impact lifted his opponent out of the -saddle and sent him crashing backwards to the ground. The shock must -have been great, for the unfortunate esquire lay just where he had -fallen, motionless, and apparently senseless. Fearing lest he might be -trampled upon in the mêlée, for the dust was rising and the combatants -could scarce see what was under their horses' feet, Edgar slipped -quickly from his saddle, raised the fallen man, and bore him away out of -the press. - -His temporary withdrawal made the two forces again equal, but this -equality was of very short duration, for one of the Gascons, who was -known as Guilbert "Strongarm", was an esquire of great bulk and -tremendous strength, and with two successive swings of his huge -battleaxe smote two of the English esquires so strongly that they -dropped half-fainting from their saddles. - -Arthur Pomeroy, who, as captain, kept watch over what was happening to -others of his force while fighting his own battle, saw that his side was -in immediate peril of being vanquished offhand, and called loudly to -Edgar to resume the combat. - -"Mount, Edgar! Mount and aid us!" - -Though he had not seen the deadly strokes that had so altered the -complexion of affairs, Edgar guessed that things were going ill, and -hastily handed the stricken man to pages who hovered on the outskirts of -the fight. His horse had followed him, and, vaulting into the saddle, -he spurred once more into the conflict. - -His re-entry was somewhat unexpected to the Gascons, and, still -possessing the lance that had already done such good service, he could -easily have unhorsed Guilbert from the rear. But disdaining to defeat a -foe so ingloriously, Edgar smartly tapped his lance upon his backplate -and waited. Guilbert and one of his comrades were busily hacking at -Arthur Pomeroy, who was fighting desperately and wheeling his steed -continuously in his efforts to keep the twain at bay. Astounded at the -buffet from the rear, Guilbert hastily turned and rode at Edgar, leaning -over in his saddle and swinging his great battleaxe in readiness for a -telling blow. - -Dropping his lance, Edgar drew his sword and, as Guilbert came within -reach and aimed a blow at him, turned his horse and avoided the stroke -by a hairbreadth. The axe, meeting no resistance, swung down nearly to -the ground, drawing Guilbert downward with it. Simultaneously Edgar -turned in his saddle, and, reaching out, smote his adversary so shrewdly -on the wrist that he was compelled to drop his axe. Ere he could draw -his sword with his left hand--for his right was bruised and almost -useless--Edgar had twice gently smitten him upon headpiece and -breastplate, and, acknowledging defeat, Guilbert rode sullenly out of -the conflict. - -Another man on either side had by this time fallen, and of the fourteen -men who had entered upon the mêlée only two English and two Gascons -remained. - -Arthur Pomeroy was the second survivor of the English esquires, and in -spite of the exertions he had made, was still in good fighting trim. -Edgar had not received a scratch, and was virtually as fresh as when he -started. The two Gascons, on the other hand, were both bleeding, and -one appeared to be scarce fit to continue the combat. - -"Come now, Edgar," cried Arthur exultingly, "one more charge and the -battle is ours. St. George for England! On! on!" - -Side by side the two esquires rode down upon their adversaries, who, -wounded as they were, made ready to meet them right gallantly. - -Suddenly the earl raised his hand. - -"Desist, desist!" he cried. - -At a signal from the marshals the trumpets again blared, and all knew -that the conflict was at an end. - -Cheering and counter-cheering had been well-nigh continuous all the time -the stirring encounter had been proceeding, but at the signal for the -cessation of hostilities the burst of sound threatened to rend the -skies. For some minutes it continued unabated, and it was not until the -earl stood up as though about to speak that the volume of sound died -gradually away. - -"Ye have all done right well," cried the earl warmly, "and I have no -wish that ye should push matters to extremities in your friendly -rivalries. Ye started equal and ye have finished equal; right nobly doth -the result speak for the valour of both wings of our army. I hail it as -the happiest augury for the campaign that lies before us." - -Loud and hearty cheers greeted his words. His politic intervention had -relaxed the tension between the English and Gascon spectators, and, with -the honour of both well saved, they could cheer the well-fought fight -without bitterness and without stint. - -"Let the victors approach," commanded the earl, and the four esquires -cantered to the stand and dismounted. - -Pages assisted them to unhelm, and they were led forward by the marshal -up the steps to the platform where the earl stood. It was remarked by -all those near enough to observe that while the faces of the two Gascon -esquires were pale and blood-streaked, and Pomeroy's was flushed with -exertion, Edgar's showed no sign of the conflict whatever. - -With a few words of hearty commendation, the earl presented each esquire -with a jewelled dagger and a purse of gold as tokens of the esteem in -which their victorious emergence from the conflict had caused them to be -held. Then they again mounted and, with heads still uncovered, made a -full circuit of the lists before withdrawing to their own enclosure. -Loud cheers and shouts of approval followed them, and Edgar, preoccupied -as he had again become at the uncertainty of his master's fate now that -the combat was over, could not help feeling a thrill of pleasure at -having borne his part in upholding his country's fair renown in the -domains of chivalry. - -"Grammercy, my fair Edgar, thou didst almost lose us the fight," cried -Arthur Pomeroy, as the two filed across to their comrades' side of the -greensward. "I thought our friend the 'strong-arm' had me of a surety -when thou didst call him off just in time. 'Twas a near thing betwixt -victory and defeat." - -"Not victory, Arthur. 'Tis an honourable draw." - -"We held the winning position--that is enough for me. Come now, where -art bound? Let us first go and congratulate our comrades the Gascons on -the stout fight they provided us withal. Then, if they agree, perchance -we may retire to the esquires' pavilion and celebrate the mêlée in a -manner fitting to the occasion." - -"Right willingly will I join in thy congratulations of our friends the -enemy," cried Edgar; "but I must beg thee to excuse me from taking part -in any celebrations. I have not time, even had I the inclination, to -join thee there. I have matters on foot that claim attention without -delay, and I must be off the instant I have added my meed of praise to -thine." - -In a few minutes the esquires of both bands were clustered together, -eagerly discussing the many exciting incidents of the encounter, and -Edgar was presently able to make good his exit without attracting -special attention. - - - - - *CHAPTER IX* - - *The Encounter with Sir Gervaise* - - -When Edgar reached his tent, he found that Peter had not yet returned -since he had sent him off to keep watch upon all who came and went at -Sir Gervaise's quarters. A meal had, however, been laid for him, -probably by Matthew, so, hardly knowing what was to be his next move and -feeling that he might soon need all his strength, Edgar sat down and ate -a hearty dinner. Then, as Peter had still not put in an appearance, he -returned to the scene of the tournament and made his way to the stand -where seats had been allotted to Sir John and his party. Somewhat to -his surprise, he found both Gertrude and Beatrice in their places. - -"Hath any news good or ill reached you?" he asked, as he took his place -by their side. - -"None," replied Beatrice quickly. "We came hither because we could not -rest at the inn, and, besides, we thought that news might be most -plentiful where so many people were gathered together. We feel little -like enjoying the tourney, brilliant though it is, but we both were glad -to see thee gain the day in thine encounters." - -"I had not intended to take part," replied Edgar, "but our captain, -Arthur Pomeroy, sought me out and dragged me with him to the lists. -Nevertheless, while it lasted, I enjoyed it right well." - -"Thy part was well done, but best of all, to my mind, was thy succouring -of poor Gaston Dugarde and the chance thou didst give to the mighty -Guilbert to meet thee face to face. Those deeds have been the talk of -the stand--far more so than thy powers with lance and sword. The one -rings of true chivalry, the other is known by a lesser name." - -"Mayhap," replied Edgar, "but, even so, skill is not to be despised, for -often 'tis that that makes the other possible. But 'twas not of the -fight I wished to speak. I have forebodings that Sir Gervaise de Maupas -knoweth something of Sir John's disappearance. I have set Peter to -watch his tent and to let me know who hath called upon him this morning. -He hath not yet returned, and, feeling impatient, I came to tell you and -to learn if perchance you had aught of news for me." - -"If thou thinkest 'tis De Maupas, wilt thou not denounce him to the -earl?" cried both Gertrude and Beatrice with one voice. "Surely so -dastardly a deed----" - -"Nay, nay, ladies, there is no evidence upon which I could cast such an -aspersion upon the name of a knight of fair fame. 'Twould be useless, -and would but put him upon his guard. Nay, I must proceed much more -cautiously." - -"But why should Sir Gervaise seek to do him harm in secret when he hath -full chance to defeat him in the lists?" objected Beatrice. - -"But could he defeat him? And even if he did, would Sir John's honour -have received so foul a blow as when he fails to answer to Sir -Gervaise's challenge? No, the thing is planned to ruin Sir John's -honour, and right well do I fear it will do so." - -"He will come," cried Gertrude in desperation. "He will strain every -nerve to be in his place at the appointed time. Still will I look for -him." - -"I too hope--but surely, Edgar Wintour, there is something to be done!" -cried Beatrice impetuously. "Thou canst act well and strongly in the -lists--art lost when the real need comes outside? Thou art Sir John's -esquire--appointed in the face of all thy comrades--and he looks to thee -for aid. Prove thy title. Once thou didst boast that when a time of -stress came upon us thou wouldst show thy worth." - -"I have done all that man could do," cried Edgar, flushing deeply at the -bitter rebuke. - -"Sir John must be found," cried Beatrice, giving a reckless stamp of her -little foot. - -Deeply mortified and not a little angry, Edgar bowed low, retired from -the stand, and strode wrathfully back to his tent. His way took him not -far from Sir Gervaise's quarters, and as he went it occurred to him that -he might pass by and see what he could of Peter. As he drew near he saw -that Sir Gervaise stood at the door already half-armed, for the hour of -his encounter approached apace; and Edgar looked steadily at him to -discern, if possible, some sign of consciousness of villainy in his -strongly-marked features. Their eyes met, and Sir Gervaise beckoned him -to approach. - -"See that thy master is ready and well equipped," he said, with a smile -that maddened Edgar, "for I will humble his proud spirit this day--mark -well my words." - -Gulping back the torrent of speech that rushed to his lips, Edgar turned -and hurried on his way. In the second that he had met Sir Gervaise eye -to eye, a half-formed idea had hardened and tempered into a firm -resolve. Sir John's life should be saved and Sir John's honour should -not be lost. - -Peter was awaiting him at his tent, his face aflame with eagerness and -excitement. - -"Sir," he cried breathlessly, "one of the men we suspected rode in from -the country but a half-hour agone and had speech with Sir Gervaise. I -lay down at the tent door as though sleeping in the sun, but could hear -naught. When the man came out, however, he was clinking money in his -hand and smiling." - -"Didst follow him?" - -"I did; and I have learned both his name and his haunts." - -"Good! Say no more now, Peter, but call Matthew, for other and starker -work lieth before us." - -In a moment Matthew appeared. - -"Saddle Sir John's best charger, 'Furore', and fetch it hither," cried -Edgar. "Then bring out its armour and trappings, and make it ready for -the lists." - -"Ha," cried Matthew joyously, "then thou hast news of Sir John!" and he -hurried off to do the esquire's bidding. - -"Now, Peter," cried Edgar, flinging off his outer garments, "aid me to -don Sir John's armour--quickly, lad, on thy life!" - -"But Sir John----" - -"_I_ am Sir John this day. See thou sayest no more to anyone save -Matthew. Sir John's honour must be saved, and saved it shall be if my -utmost efforts can compass it. With vizor down, who shall know that the -well-known horse and coat-armour hold not the knight, and that the -shield that beareth his blazonings is borne by another?" - -Speechless with amazement, Peter strapped and buckled with might and -main, and Edgar was almost ready when Matthew entered for the horse's -trappings. - -When he saw who it was that was donning Sir John's armour, he gave a -gasp of astonishment. Then gathering from Edgar's set face the full -significance of the proceeding, his own took on a grim smile as, without -a word, he seized the horse's gear and hurried from the tent. - -"Wilt take thine own weapons?" enquired Peter presently. - -"Nay. I will take Sir John's and give no loophole to suspicion. Their -weight is little more than mine, and I feel strung to a pitch that would -make them feel light were they twice the weight." - -"And for gage? Wilt wear the lady Gertrude's colours?" - -"Nay. I fear I cannot do that, or she will be sure 'tis Sir John. I -will wear none, as in the mêlée. See now if 'Furore' be ready." - -The horse was ready, and, carefully closing his vizor, Edgar stepped -outside and vaulted into the saddle. Shield and lance were handed up to -him, and after testing his charger's gear to see that all was fast, he -prepared to start. Sir John's armour was somewhat heavier than his own, -but he was so accustomed to wearing armour in his practices and so tense -with excitement and determination that he scarcely noticed it. - -Edgar was now nineteen, and well grown and well developed. Though Sir -John was a man of more weighty build, he was no broader and but a -fraction taller. The armour, therefore, fitted the esquire well, and, -mounted upon "Furore" and with vizor closed, scarce his most intimate -friend would have known him from his master. The horse was a splendid -animal, far better than Edgar's, and bore the weight of armour and rider -with ease and spirit. - -It was now the hour for the encounter with Sir Gervaise, and in the -distance Edgar could hear the trumpets of the heralds announcing the -combat. He could picture De Maupas riding majestically into the lists, -confident of adding to his prestige by a victory by default against so -well-known an antagonist as Sir John Chartris. How he would make his -steed curvet and prance before the populace, as he rode round the lists -waiting in vain for his foe to answer to the challenge! - -A second time the trumpets of the heralds rang out, and, setting spurs -to his horse, Edgar rode straight for the enclosure. "Furore" seemed to -enter fully into the spirit of the enterprise, and it was at a swinging -gallop that Edgar dashed suddenly into the lists. - -A roar of applause arose from the whole circle of the spectators, who -were just beginning to wonder where Sir John Chartris might be. Without -a pause, Edgar rode to the earl's stand and saluted. Then he paced on -down to his own end of the lists, saluting the Wolsingham ladies as he -passed them by. - -"He hath come!" cried Gertrude, tense with excitement, the instant horse -and man appeared in the lists. - -Beatrice followed her gaze, and for one instant joyfully agreed. Then -she began to doubt. - -"Nay, nay, Gertrude, this cannot be Sir John. Where are thy colours?" - -"He hath had no time----" - -"But Sir John is waxing on in years, and rideth heavily in his saddle. -This man rideth with an ease and spring as though younger and of a -lighter make. Hush--cry not out--'tis Edgar Wintour, of a certainty! -'Tis to this that I have goaded him on!" - -"But why should----?" - -"To save Sir John's honour. Didst not feel as though even death were -better than his dishonour a moment agone when the heralds cried his name -in vain? Hurrah--I could cry aloud to think that that vile Sir Gervaise -will not gain a bloodless victory! But yet--after all--surely he cannot -fail to conquer one who is but an esquire?" - -Gertrude answered not, and both maidens sat still and held their breaths -as the stirring scenes passed before their gaze. - -It was observed by more than one that on the sudden entry of his -antagonist Sir Gervaise showed signs of excitement. He seemed agitated -and shook--with gusts of anger, those who noticed it supposed--and for -some moments his charger reared and backed unmanageably, as though -sharing his master's fierce emotions. - -After a moment or two, however, the knight regained control over his -steed, and with cruel jabs of the spur urged him back into position. The -charger had been celebrated in the past for its unusual power and -strength, and to this fact the reputation of Sir Gervaise was in a great -measure due. It had now, however, passed its prime, and De Maupas could -no longer count upon its excellence giving him the advantage of his -competitors. - -Edgar had profited by the moments occupied by Sir Gervaise in regaining -the mastery over his steed, and had settled down quietly into position. -His thoughts had flown back to the sacrifice his father had made to save -Sir John at Sluys, and he resolved that he would be as ready as his -father to lay down his life, if necessary, in this his own moment of -call. Firmly grasping his lance, he fixed his eyes warily upon his -adversary through his vizor slits. Horse and man seemed as steady and -immovable as a rock, in striking contrast to Sir Gervaise, who fidgeted -with his weapons and seemed impatient during the trying pause before the -onset sounded: "_Laissez aller_". - -With the speed of arrows the steel-clad warriors crashed together in the -middle of the lists. Each man aimed his lance at the centre of his -opponent's shield, and both struck fair and true. The impact hurled the -chargers violently back upon their haunches and forced their riders -backwards to the limit of endurance, while their stout ash lances were -bent and split from end to end! De Maupas, for the moment, kept his -seat successfully, but his horse, pawing the air and snorting -frantically, struggled in vain to regain its balance, and presently -rolled over ignominiously upon the ground. Edgar, on the other hand, -though the shock had been just as severe, managed, by dint of voice and -spur, to aid his steed's recovery, and in a few seconds it was on its -feet, with its rider ready for the foe. - -Disentangling himself from his horse's trappings, Sir Gervaise drew -sword, and, furious at his undignified mischance, sprang towards his -adversary, thirsting to retrieve his fallen fortunes. - -[Illustration: "SIR GERVAISE SPRANG TOWARDS HIS ADVERSARY, THIRSTING -TO RETRIEVE HIS FALLEN FORTUNES"] - -Disdaining to meet him at any advantage, Edgar flung away the fragments -of his lance, seized Sir John's heavy battleaxe, and slipped lightly -from the saddle. Scarce had he faced Sir Gervaise when the furious -knight was upon him with sword up-raised. Knowing that his battleaxe -was almost useless for defence, Edgar heeded not the blow, but, -half-turning, swung his own heavy weapon sideways at his opponent's -head. The knight's blow fell first with a stroke that bit deep into -Edgar's casque, but before De Maupas could spring back out of reach, the -axe stroke smote him on the side of his helmet with a weight and -momentum that sent him crashing headlong to the ground. - -A dull roar of applause arose from the whole circle of the lists. - -Dropping his axe, Edgar snatched his dagger from his belt and sprang -towards the fallen man. Kneeling upon his chest he cried aloud: - -"Yield thee vanquished, Sir Gervaise de Maupas!" Then in a low voice, -but in tones thrilling with resolve, he went on, "_Tell me where Sir -John if, or thy life is forfeit!_" - -There was no response. - -"Desist, Sir John," cried one of the marshals of the lists, hurriedly -approaching, "he is stunned, if not dead. Thou art acknowledged -victor--retire while we see to the stricken man." - -Heavy with disappointment at being thwarted at the moment when he hoped -all might be won, Edgar mechanically mounted and rode slowly round the -lists. The air still rang with the plaudits of the spectators, and, as -he passed along, loud cries reached him, some, wishing to do him the -more honour, calling upon him to unhelm. - -Fearing that his refusal at least to lower his vizor might cause some -adverse comment, Edgar dropped it an inch or so and left it, hoping that -it might be thought that the blow his headpiece had received had damaged -the hinges of his vizor. With a final salute, first to the earl and then -to the Wolsingham ladies, he rode dully from the lists. The cheers of -the spectators fell on deaf ears, for though he had defeated Sir -Gervaise and upheld Sir John's honour, he felt that he was still as far -as ever from solving the mystery of his master's disappearance. - -As he reached the door of his tent, Matthew and Peter came running up, -their faces wreathed with smiles at their young master's victory. - -"Aid me to strip off this armour," cried Edgar, the moment he had -entered the tent, "and remember that Sir John is gone--gone upon the -visit to Faucigny Castle, in the lands of the lady Beatrice, that he has -had all along in mind. He gained the earl's permission some time since, -as he told me himself. Thus at least we gain some precious days in -which to continue our enquiries." - -"Pardon, Master Edgar," cried Peter, suddenly stopping, "with thy -permission I will hie me to Sir Gervaise's tent. It may well be that -this is a time when it might advantage us to keep close watch upon those -about him." - -"Go, Peter. His esquire will be bringing him back in a few minutes. He -is but stunned. Listen for what thou canst hear. Who knows but that a -few chance words may tell us all?" - -Waiting for no more, Peter sped off upon his errand, and when, a -half-hour later, Sir Gervaise was carried into his tent, he was snugly -ensconced beneath a pile of horse's trappings at the very door. - - - - - *CHAPTER X* - - *News of Sir John* - - -The dusk of evening was falling as Sir Gervaise raised himself from the -couch upon which he had been restlessly tossing ever since he had been -carried in. His head was swathed in bandages, and the light of the -single lamp showed a face pale beneath its sunburn, in which a pair of -fierce black eyes burned with an unnatural brightness. - -"I have waited in suspense long enough," he muttered to himself. Then, -in a louder key, he called to his esquire who was in attendance upon -him. - -"Arnaud, I have business that I must transact this night. Fetch me -hither, then, the varlet James Baulch, and then betake thyself to thy -tent. Stay, first fill up my cup, for my head still throbs consumedly -from the blow that trickster Chartris gave me." - -The esquire obeyed, and in a minute the wounded knight was alone. Freed -from the restraint of his esquire's presence, Sir Gervaise groaned aloud -with the pain of his bruised and swollen head, and muttered savagely to -himself what sounded like threats and imprecations against his -successful foe and also the varlet James, who seemed somehow to have -incurred his especial displeasure. - -Presently the man arrived escorted by the esquire, who seemed to look -somewhat askance at his charge. He glanced significantly at his master -as he was about to leave the tent, and, interpreting the look, the -knight cried as he scowled savagely at the man: "Yes, Arnaud, remain -outside within call. I may require thy services." - -Arnaud bowed and retired, and the knight, raising himself, not without -difficulty, into a sitting posture and placing a dagger ready to his -hand, beckoned the man to approach. - -"So thou hast played me false, James Baulch, murderer and vagabond?" he -cried in a voice thick with rage. "Thou, whom I have but to lift a -finger to consign to the gibbet--thou hast dared to lie to me." - -The man cowered before the knight's pallid face and gleaming eyes. -"There is some mistake," he stammered, "I----" - -"Aye--thou art right," cried the knight savagely, "'tis the mistake I -made when, with a trumped-up tale, I snatched thee from the sheriff's -men. I had better have let thee hang and moulder--but 'tis not yet too -late. The arm of the law is strong and swift even in Gascony, and on -the word of a knight thy shrift----" - -"My lord! My lord!" cried the man, grovelling in terror on the floor. -"I swear there is some mistake. With mine own eyes at dawn this morning -I saw Sir John, bound and helpless, lying at the bottom of a wagon. I -rode straight hither, and he who fought with thee must be some other. -My lord, it must be so." - -"Bah! Scoundrel! That is but a tale--another lie--to save thy wretched -neck from the gallows." - -"It is not--it is not!" almost shrieked the man. "Didst not mark--but -thou wert senseless--has not, then, thine esquire told thee that he who -fought as Sir John did not drop his vizor even when he saluted the -earl?" - -"Say'st thou so?" cried the knight, startled. "Strange!" he went on, -muttering to himself. "I seemed to feel a difference as he entered the -lists. Both horse and man seemed doubly full of fire, while Sir John -always rode heavily." - -"Yes, yes," cried the man eagerly. "It was noticed by others. I heard -two men say that Sir John was riding lighter in the saddle than he used -to." - -"Can this be the explanation?" went on De Maupas, still speaking half to -himself. "I never thought of such a daring ruse being played upon me. -Who can the man be? Doubtless one of Sir John's friends--but who? -'Twill be the worse for him an I find out the truth," he ended darkly, -clenching his teeth with suppressed rage. - -"Give me leave to find out the knight's name, my lord," interrupted -Baulch in an eager voice. - -Sir Gervaise for a minute or two made no reply, but gazed at his -accomplice with so gloomy and menacing a look that the man literally -shook with fear. - -"Very well, Baulch," he said sternly after a pause, "thy neck may rest -at peace on thy shoulders for a space, while thou art finding out who it -was that masqueraded as Sir John. Find out, I say, find out! Dare to -bungle a second time, and the gallows that gape for thee shall have thee -fast!" - -With trembling lips the man hastily promised to find out the truth. - -Nodding carelessly, Sir Gervaise went on to talk of other matters. -There could be no doubt that his confidence in the ascendancy he had -obtained over the man was not misjudged. The man was obviously under a -spell, mastered by a hidden terror so great that all else was completely -swallowed up. - - * * * * * - -It was noon the following day when the man again made his appearance and -requested Arnaud to tell Sir Gervaise that James Baulch craved a few -minutes' further speech. Arnaud complied, though from the expression of -his face it might have been inferred that the desire to kick the man was -the feeling uppermost in his mind. - -"Well, Baulch?" growled the knight, who still reclined upon a couch, and -whose temper seemed in no way improved by his night's rest. "Hast news -to tell? If not 'twill be the worse for thee." - -"I have news, my lord--strange news. Whether 'twill please thee or not, -I cannot say, but----" - -"Peace, knave! Tell thy news and madden me not with thy thoughts of -what pleases me." - -"'Twas Edgar Wintour fought with thee in the lists," blurted out the man -hurriedly. "I have heard words let fall that make the matter clear." - -"Edgar Wintour--and who is Edgar Wintour?" cried the knight with savage -impatience. - -"He is Sir John's esquire." - -The look that came into the knight's face made Baulch regret the success -of his enquiries. De Maupas gasped, grew even paler than before, and -clutched convulsively at the couch on which he lay. Then a sudden -passion seemed to galvanize him into activity and he rose to his feet -almost with a bound. - -"What!" he thundered. "Dare ye tell me that----?" - -But his strength was unequal to the effort, and clutching at his -bandages with both hands, as though his head were about to split in -twain, he sank slowly and painfully back upon the couch. - -"A pretty debt I owe the boy if thy tale is true," he muttered at last -in a changed voice. "Art sure of thy facts?" - -"Sure, my lord. I saw him mounted upon Sir John's charger early this -morning, and the way he rode made me think at once of the spring and -fire of thine adversary yesterday. Then I heard some words let drop by -one Matthew, a man-at-arms of Sir John, and I knew 'twas so." - -"So that was what was in his mind when he gave me that strange look -yesterday," muttered De Maupas to himself. "It was on my lips to demand -an explanation. Would I had done so! I might have forced the quarrel -then and there with the advantage on my side, mailed and ready for a -conflict as I was." - -"Canst not let the good earl know of the trick he played?" said the man -presently. "Surely he would punish him for daring so to dupe the -marshals of the lists?" - -"Be silent, fool! Dost think I want all the world to know that I, a -knight, was beaten by an unfledged esquire? See to it that no word of -it is breathed by thee." - -For some time Sir Gervaise remained silent, staring viciously at the -ground the while. The expression on his face was not good to see, and -it might have been as well had Edgar Wintour been there to see it. - -"Baulch," said the knight at last, "Baulch, I gave thee money for Sir -John Chartris--alive. I offer thee double the sum for this Edgar -Wintour--dead. Dost understand?" - -The tone of the knight's voice was low and measured, but the expression -of his face was so deadly that the blackest rage would have seemed less -implacable. Baulch seemed to have no great stomach for the task put to -him, but one furtive look at the knight's face was sufficient, and he -answered hastily: - -"I understand, my lord." - -"Then begone." - - * * * * * - -"Couldst hear no more than that, Peter? Nothing save a few words of -angry reproach against the man when De Maupas's voice rang highest?" - -"No, sir. I could get no nearer, for De Maupas's esquire, Arnaud, paced -to and fro outside, doubtless by his master's orders. Most of the time -the two spake only of the tournament, though once I feel sure they -talked of Sir John, but they dropped their voices and only formless -words reached my ears." - -"Ah! Then I fear it behoves us to find out," cried Edgar in a decided -tone. "We cannot afford to go on like this, Peter. The Wolsingham -ladies are becoming most anxious, and if we cannot soon get news, we -must acquaint the earl of the truth and implore his aid, though I fear -it will bring us little comfort. Ye say ye know where this man Baulch -lives?" - -"Yes, he lives at a low inn in the lowest and most rascally quarter of -the town." - -"Good! 'Tis the better for our purpose. At nightfall, Peter, I must -visit this inn, and see what stratagem or the sword will accomplish. -Tell me how I may find it, and then be off and get me some peasant's -clothing, old and soiled with use, and have it ready an hour or two -before the gates are closed." - -At the time appointed Peter produced a bundle of clothing, and Edgar was -soon well disguised as a young countryman on a visit to the town to make -his purchases. The clothing was somewhat malodorous, but as this added -considerably to the realistic effect, Edgar recked little of that. His -own sword was far too well made and well finished to be taken, so Peter -obtained for him the least pretentious amongst those carried by Sir -John's men-at-arms. This was buckled on in an awkward and clumsy manner, -so as to give as unwarlike an air to a warlike weapon as possible. - -Foreseeing the possibility of a fight in a locality of such unsavoury -reputation, Edgar took the precaution to don his light flexible shirt of -steel mail before putting on the peasant's garments, and to have a -dagger concealed beneath his clothes ready to hand in case of an attack -too sudden and at too close quarters to allow him to draw his sword. - -It was a few minutes short of the hour at which the gates of the city -closed when, as a peasant, he rapped loudly at the door of a low-lying, -rambling, single-story structure overlooking the river Garonne. The -street was in complete darkness, save for the dim light emitted through -the shuttered windows of one or two of the hovels and crazy dwellings -which huddled together along each side of the narrow roadway. - -After a short delay the door opened, and one of the most -villainous-looking men Edgar had ever set eyes on made his appearance. - -"What seek ye?" he enquired, peering suspiciously first at the newcomer -and then over his shoulder, as though to find out whether he was alone. - -"Some of thy good cheer, landlord. I was seeking another inn which a -neighbour of mine speaks well of, but lost my way, and a man I chanced -upon by good hap outside sent me to thee. Give me sup of thy best; I -have money and can pay," and Edgar, assuming an air of pride and -importance, flaunted a handful of coins under the man's eyes. - -"Thou shalt have it, noble sir," cried the landlord, with a leer which -was meant to encourage his guest, and he led the way into a long room, -bare of furniture save for a couple of tables and some rough benches. -The room was fairly lofty, but numbers of smoked hams and other objects -hanging from the rafters made it appear low and gloomy. Half a dozen -men, amongst whom Edgar was quick to discern James Baulch, lounged upon -the benches drinking and dicing. - -Edgar took stock of his surroundings as the landlord led him to the end -of the room farthest from the other occupants, and, fetching a chair -from a side room and carefully placing it in position at the table, -invited his guest to take a seat. - -In a few minutes some food, rough and unpalatable, was brought, and -Edgar made shift to eat it, as though with a good appetite. Then he -leaned back in his chair, and, half-shutting his eyes, pretended to be -nearly asleep. He hoped that most of the men would soon leave, and that -he might have an opportunity of accosting Baulch alone or of following -him to his room, wherever that might be. - -Presently he missed one of the men, and shortly after the others broke -into a rough drinking song. Edgar then realized, with something of a -shock, that instead of being the pursuer he was now the pursued. It was -not the mere withdrawal of one of the men that made him think this, but -the quiet, stealthy manner in which the man must have left, and the way -in which the other men began their song simultaneously, as though at a -signal. It almost seemed that the song was intended to cloak something, -perhaps the arrival of a further band of ruffians. Edgar began to -regret that he had exhibited his money so freely--or could it be that -Baulch had seen through his disguise? - -A slight rustling noise close to him attracted his attention, and giving -up the pretence of being nearly asleep, he opened his eyes wide and -looked warily about him. The men had stopped their song, and were -gazing in his direction with an air of covert expectation. Something -was going on--that much was clear as noonday. Another slight rustle, -and Edgar looked quickly above him into the blackness beyond the hams -and other objects hanging from the rafters. He was just in time to -catch a glimpse of something as it dropped down over his head. It was a -rope! - -Before he had time to spring to his feet and fling it off his shoulders, -it was drawn tightly round his neck with a quick jerk, and he was lifted -almost off his feet. The peril was extreme, and realizing in a flash -that only the most desperate exertions could save him, Edgar grasped the -rope above the slip knot with his left hand, while with his right he -drew his dagger and reached up to cut the rope, straining on tiptoe to -get a purchase. - -Suddenly a trapdoor, upon which his chair had evidently been placed, -gave way beneath his feet, and the whole of his weight fell upon his -left arm. Choking, half-strangled, with eyes starting from his head, -Edgar strove to cut the rope with his dagger. One stroke, feeble from -his straining position and reeling brain--a second stroke--then a third, -into which all his remaining strength was put--and like a stone he fell -half-fainting through the trapdoor into a cellar below. - -For a moment or two he was unable to move. Half-strangled and half-dazed -by the dread attack and sudden fall, he was in so helpless a condition -that he could not have lifted a hand to save his life. The noise of -footsteps on the stone stairs leading to the cellar and the harsh -grating of a key in the lock roused him a little, however, and he feebly -extricated himself from the legs of the chair upon which he had fallen. -Scarcely had he done so before two men, one of whom bore a torch, ran -hurriedly in and rushed at him with knives upraised. The man bearing -the light Edgar recognized as James Baulch. - -Against their attack Edgar at first could defend himself but feebly. -His hand still clutched the dagger with which he had severed the rope, -but before he was in a condition to use it he had received several body -thrusts that would have dispatched him outright had it not been for the -shirt of steel mail he wore beneath his clothing. - -Every moment, however, his strength came back, and, watching his chance, -presently he parried a blow from Baulch's companion, and brought the -hilt of his own dagger down upon the ruffian's head with all his -strength. The man dropped prone in his tracks amid a yell of wrath from -the men in the room above, who were eagerly peering down at the conflict -from the opening in the floor. - -Feeling that his chance had come, Edgar sprang fiercely upon Baulch and -flung him to the floor, the torch spinning from his hand to the other -end of the cellar. Kneeling upon the man's chest and placing his dagger -at his throat, Edgar cried sternly: - -"Tell me where is Sir John Chartris, or thou shall die." - -The man gasped with amazement and fear, and cried hastily: "At -Ruthènes." - -"Where is this Ruthènes?" cried Edgar quickly. - -But the man seemed already to have repented that he had told so much, -and with an effort made shift to grasp the hand that held the -threatening dagger. Doubtless he had seen the faces of his four friends -above disappear from the trap, and had heard the scurry of their feet as -they rushed across the room and made for the stairs. It could be but a -matter of seconds before they were on the scene. Edgar, too, had heard -the scurry of feet, and realized at once that he could get no more -information before it would be too late. Wrenching himself free from -Baulch's grasp and springing to his feet, he seized the chair and placed -it upright beneath the trapdoor. - -The instant he was free Baulch scrambled to his feet, and, emboldened by -the approach of help--for the others' footsteps now sounded loudly upon -the stairs--rushed at Edgar with a yell, and tried to prevent him -mounting upon the chair. - -"We will have thee yet, Edgar Wintour," he cried exultingly. - -Edgar had flung away his dagger, but at this attack he turned and shot -out his arm with all his strength. The blow caught the man full in the -face, and felled him headlong. - -The first of the men, leaping down the stairs, burst into the cellar -just as Edgar, seizing the edge of the floor above with his hands, -sprang off the chair, head and shoulders, into the room overhead. -Flinging up his right leg and making another effort, he lifted himself -until he stood upright upon the floor. - -For the moment the room was empty, but the men below, mad with rage at -being again tricked, were already in pursuit, shouting like wild beasts, -and there was no time to be lost. Without an instant's delay, -therefore, Edgar sprang to the window, flung aside the shutters, and -looked eagerly out. As he expected, the gleam of water met his gaze, -and, placing one hand upon the sill, he sprang headlong out and vanished -into the waters of the Garonne. - - - - - *CHAPTER XI* - - *In Pursuit* - - -An hour later a weary-looking, soaked figure knocked loudly and -insistently at the door of the inn which sheltered the ladies Gertrude -and Beatrice. It was Edgar, exhausted by a long swim in sodden garments -and shirt of mail, which had well nigh dragged him to the bottom of the -river. After a short parley the landlord admitted him, and, seeing his -sorry condition, proceeded to light a fire to dry his wet garments, and -good-naturedly lent him others until they were ready for use. - -"Dost wish me to tell Sir John's ladies that thou art come?" he asked -presently. - -"Nay, I will spend the night before this fire, and speak to them early -in the morning. Tell me when ye hear them stirring." - -Long before Edgar awoke in the morning Peter had arrived, anxious to -know if anything had been heard of his master. Seeing him asleep, and -hearing of the exhausted condition in which he had arrived, he sat down -patiently to wait until he should awake. - -"Hast learned aught?" he cried as soon as Edgar opened his eyes. - -"Aye, though what 'tis worth I know not;" and Edgar related the -incidents of the attack and escape the night before. "Baulch said that -Sir John was at Ruthènes, or a place that sounded much like it. Whatever -that name may be worth to us, it would seem that Sir John is at least -still alive." - -"Ruthènes!" echoed Peter thoughtfully. "Methinks I have heard a word -that sounded like that before. Yes, I have it; it was a word spoken -more than once by De Maupas to that rascal Baulch. I could not catch it -fully, but now I know the word, I feel sure it was that they were -repeating." - -"Then we are on the right track," cried Edgar joyfully. "Now we must -find where Ruthènes is. Call mine host." - -The landlord was called and asked if he knew of a place called Ruthènes. -After a moment's thought he announced that he had heard of it as a -castle of evil reputation situated on the lower slopes of the Pyrenees -many leagues distant. It belonged to a knight named Eustace de Brin, -who appeared to be better known amongst the country folk and peasantry -as Black Eustace. Exactly why he should have earned so terrible a name, -however, the landlord was unable to say. - -Satisfied that Baulch had not lied to him, Edgar desired the landlord to -send someone to arouse the ladies, and to tell them that Sir John's -esquire begged a few minutes' audience with them upon a matter of great -importance. Then he turned to Peter and instructed him to return to the -camp, to saddle Sir John's two best horses, and to make all ready for a -long journey. On his way through the town he was to obtain more -countrymen's clothes of a better cut and quality than his last -purchase--such, indeed, as might be worn by small traders travelling on -business from one part of the country to another. - -Very shortly both the ladies appeared, eager to know why Edgar had come -to them so early in the day, and guessing that he must have news to -tell. - -In a few brief sentences Edgar described the scene at the inn, and the -means by which he had extracted one single word from Baulch, which, he -hoped, contained the key to Sir John's whereabouts. Then he announced -that he had made up his mind to set out forthwith for Castle Ruthènes, -accompanied only by Peter, and to do all in his power to deliver Sir -John from his captors. - -"But will not this Eustace offer him to ransom?" cried Beatrice. "We -will gladly pay a ransom, however great, so long as we can get him -safely back." - -"I much misdoubt me whether Sir John would consent to a ransom being -paid to dishonourable captors," replied Edgar. "'Tis not as though he -had been captured in fair fight. Besides, would De Maupas consider -himself avenged by a share in a ransom, for, of course, he must be in -league with this Black Eustace?" - -"I know not," cried Beatrice, stamping her foot in vexation. "But what -seek ye to do? How can ye two carry Sir John away by force from a -stronghold such as Castle Ruthènes seems to be?" - -"By stratagem, backed by force if need be. There is naught else to be -done. The earl is not yet ready to move, and even if he were, he could -not move for months into so remote a part of the enemy's country as the -district in which Ruthènes lies." - -"Well, then, go, Edgar. Gertrude and I will pray for thy success even -more heartily than in the combat with De Maupas. But trust not to thy -sword too much. Ye hotheaded esquires think far too much of prowess in -arms." - -"I thank thee, maiden. I will try to remember thy counsels," replied -Edgar, with a slight smile. - -"But what are we to tell those who enquire for my father?" cried -Gertrude. - -"That is already settled. A day or two before he disappeared Sir John -obtained leave from the earl to visit the lands of the lady Beatrice in -Faucigny. Many called to congratulate him on his defeat of De Maupas, -but hearing that he had left, supposed that he had already gone thence. -I think it would be best if the lady Beatrice went to Faucigny for a -time, and that thou didst return to Wolsingham." - -"Nay, I shall not return home until I know what hath befallen my -father," cried Gertrude decidedly. "Beatrice may please herself whether -she visits her tenants at Faucigny, but I remain here. If the earl -moves forward in thy absence the men-at-arms must go, but Matthew I -shall keep with me." - -A few more words and Edgar bade the ladies adieu, bidding them be of -good cheer for the news he had brought showed that at any rate Sir John -was alive. A rescue would, he trusted, only be a matter of time. -Though the ladies were unable to accept so hopeful a statement, yet they -felt a real thrill of hope. The dash and daring of the young esquire in -the lists outside Bordeaux, the determination displayed by him in his -onslaught upon the miscreant Baulch in the riverside inn, and the not -less striking success which had attended both ventures gave them a -ground for hoping at which they would have laughed a week ago. - -Two hours later Edgar left the camp, accompanied by Peter, and took the -road which led in the direction of Ruthènes. Both were dressed as small -traders, though it must be confessed that their mounts were vastly -superior to the steeds such men usually bestrode. Both carried sword -and dagger, and Edgar wore beneath his outer garments the light shirt of -steel mail which had already done him such good service. Permission to -leave had readily been granted to him on the understanding that he was -_en route_ to rejoin Sir John Chartris. - -Before he left, Edgar called Matthew and gave him strict instructions to -keep vigilant watch and ward over the Wolsingham ladies, and especially -to see that neither went abroad unaccompanied by a proper escort. His -fears for them, however, largely vanished when Matthew told him that De -Maupas had recovered sufficiently to leave the camp for a destination -which he had been unable to discover. The man Baulch appeared to have -been left behind. - -After a three-days' journey over rough roads, oftentimes mere tracks, -Edgar and Peter reached a village in the vicinity of the castle of -Ruthènes. Their arrival created something of a stir, for the village and -district were so remote from the trade routes and highways that -strangers were hardly ever seen. Somewhat disturbed that they were not -able, as they wished, to pass unnoticed about their business, Edgar -enquired whether the village boasted an inn. It did not, but the house -which performed the nearest approach to that office was pointed out to -him, and they made their way there and dismounted. A target for -curiosity, and also, apparently, for barely concealed hostility, the two -sat down to the poor hospitality the place afforded, feeling that the -difficulties before them were greater even than they had anticipated. - -It was evening when they arrived, and they had scarcely been there half -an hour before no less a personage than the village priest called, -ostensibly as a chance visitor, but really, as Edgar shrewdly suspected, -to examine the two strangers, and to ascertain, if possible, what their -visit portended. - -"Ye are strangers here," remarked the priest, as he brought a mess of -soup to the table at which Edgar and Peter were seated, and sat down -himself. - -Edgar assented and went on with his meal, though he kept a watchful eye -upon the priest. The man was past middle age, tall and well built to all -appearances, and had a kindly and pleasant, though careworn, face. -Kindly as he looked, Edgar felt anxious to keep the real object of his -visit there a secret from this man more than any other, for of all those -in the village it was most probable that the local priest was on -friendliest terms with the lord of the soil at Castle Ruthènes. - -"Doubtless 'tis to visit the castle, and not us poor villagers, that ye -are come," said the priest quietly, after a few minutes' pause. - -"Nay, we know not Sir Eustace, and though we should like to see so fine -a castle before we pass on, we shall not seek his hospitality." - -"Are ye for us or against us?" asked the priest suddenly, fixing a pair -of steady grey eyes upon Edgar. - -"I know not what ye mean," said Edgar uncomfortably. - -"I mean, are ye for the downtrodden and oppressed, or do ye uphold those -who grind and ill-use the weak and helpless?" - -"Certainly not the latter," cried Edgar quickly. - -"Then join thyself to us, and make thyself famous in aiding a noble -cause," cried the priest, his face flushing and his eyes sparkling like -those of a zealot. - -"What is this cause of which ye speak?" asked Edgar warily. - -"It is to deliver these downtrodden folk amongst whom it is my sad lot -to work. Have ye not heard of the ill fame of this Black Eustace, as he -is called--and rightly called? Tell me that ye are not of his -party--but I am sure ye are not, otherwise I would not have spoken so -plainly." - -"I am not. 'Tis but three days since I heard his name for the first -time." - -"Ah! then ye know not that he is the scourge of all this land, and doth -kill and burn and flay without let or hindrance? He hath powerful -friends, and never a thing is done when he ill-uses the poor ignorant -folk who inhabit the land he calls his own. I have seen things with my -own eyes that call aloud to heaven for vengeance, and yet the time -cometh not." - -"The country folk would then like to be rid of Sir Eustace?" - -"Aye, they would like to rid themselves of him if only it were possible -to poor and ill-armed men. Woe to me, a priest, that I should have to -uphold the meeting of violence by violence! but I have tried to find -another way and failed. I have been told that such a state as exists -here exists in many other parts of France. If that be so, terrible -things will be witnessed in the years to come.[1#] I cannot believe, -however, that things can be so bad elsewhere as they are here, for -whereas we are poor and ignorant, in other places the people are rich -and powerful, and can resist oppression in many ways." - -[#] The priest was right. In the rising of the "Jacquerie", which took -place a few years later, dreadful scenes of violence and bloodshed were -witnessed. - -"Undoubtedly," murmured Edgar, nodding his head in agreement. - -"But what we most lack is leaders," went on the priest in a still more -earnest tone. "There is no one here, save myself, who stands out from -the herd of poor miserable folk, and without leaders men with no -knowledge of warfare are doubly useless. We want leaders," he -reiterated in a meaning tone, fixing his eyes upon Edgar in a way that -made that young man feel most uncomfortable. - -"Yes, yes," replied Edgar in a soothing tone. "Doubtless the leaders ye -need will be forthcoming when the time comes." - -"The time has come, but the leaders are absent," cried the priest; and -he was apparently about to say more when he stopped suddenly, as though -with a great effort, and stared frowningly at the table. - -Devoutly hoping that the priest had done and would spare them any -further confidences, Edgar turned towards Peter and began to talk upon -other topics. In a minute or two, however, the priest raised his head -and went on: - -"But what are ye here for? Ye say ye are not visitors to the castle. -Yet art thou, sir, if I am not mistaken, a man trained to war, and your -steeds tell the same tale. What else can there be in this remote spot -that would attract thee save the castle? Thy patois is strange and -unfamiliar to me, for I have travelled little; but undoubtedly thou hast -journeyed here from afar." - -Edgar smiled. His knowledge of the French tongue had been for the most -part acquired at Wolsingham, where several had a good knowledge of it. -On to this, however, had been grafted, since his arrival, a strong -Gascon flavour that more than possibly assorted somewhat ill with his -previous acquirements. - -The priest was waiting for a reply, and Edgar quickly made up his mind -to confide in him the true reason for his presence there. It was -practically certain that did he not do so the priest would have him -watched, and that, he felt, would be disastrous. - -"Yes," he said, "I have travelled here from afar. Like you, I am at -enmity with those who shelter behind the walls of Castle Ruthènes, and, -like you, I seek to outmanoeuvre them. They hold prisoner one whom I -must rescue at all costs." Then Edgar went on to describe briefly what -had happened to Sir John, and how he had come to believe that he had -been carried away to Ruthènes. - -The priest listened attentively to the end. "Then your interests are -identical with ours," he said in a voice which rang with triumph. "Why -should ye not throw in your lot with us and aid us to fling down yon -frowning battlements? Your knight shall thus be saved and my poor -downtrodden folk delivered from the oppressor. Ye are trained to war, -to the siege of castles, and to the command of men: take command of my -people jointly with me. 'Tis a righteous cause--unhesitatingly I -proclaim it." - -Moved in spite of himself by the priest's deep earnestness and -sincerity, Edgar for some moments could find no words with which to -reply. He had heard many tales of the misery and degradation of the -poorer classes of France, and their truth had been brought home by the -sights that had met his gaze on the long journey thither. There could -be little doubt that that unhappy condition was due in a very large -measure to unjust extortion and oppression by the ruling classes. But -his first duty was to Sir John. - -"I fear it cannot be," he said presently. "I must accomplish the rescue -of my master at once, or I may find it too late. Then, when I have -delivered him, I shall be at his disposal, and can therefore make no -promise of aid to thee. Your folk, if I mistake not, are not yet ready -for the rising ye project. They are not organized, they have not been -taught to obey any given set of signals, and they have no belief in one -another. There must be weeks of patient work ere they can be led to -attack a fortalice defended by trained and resolute men. Nay, victory -cannot be snatched by a rising on the spur of the moment. There must be -much work of patient preparation." - -There was a long pause. Then the priest, his face full of trouble, rose -from the bench on which he had been sitting, and began feverishly to -pace the room. - -"It is so," he said. "I feel it, though I am impatient to get to grips -with the evildoers. I must begin at once, though when we are ready we -shall still lack leaders. But mayhap ye will have failed to succour -your knight, and will be glad to fall back upon our aid. Who knows?" - -"Who knows, indeed? But I hope and believe not. If I have not rescued -my master by then, I fear it will be because I am either dead or -captured. But canst tell me aught of this castle? Is it strong? Doth it -consist of a single donjon, or hath it outer walls?" - -"It is an ancient castle, the origin of which is buried in the obscurity -of the past. It hath a central donjon and also outer walls, most of it -and all the stronger parts being built in its later days in imitation of -the castles built by the Northmen in other parts of France. 'Tis -strong, I know, for I have studied it with intent to discover its -weakest spots." - -"Hast discovered aught? I would fain learn, Sir Priest, any points that -would help me in my quest. In return I will joyfully impart to you such -knowledge as may come to me in my enterprise." - -"I fear it hath no weak spots worthy of the name. Nothing save hard -fighting can win yon fortalice, unless, as has of late been the case, -the garrison wax careless from long inaction and freedom from alarums." - -"Stratagem might effect its capture. It is on stratagem that I rely -most for my own venture. But I would now fain bid thee good night, Sir -Priest, and thank thee for thy kindly information. Perchance we shall -meet again. Come, Peter!" - -"Good night, Sir Squire! May ye prosper and win your way both in and -out of the blood-stained lair of Black Eustace! God speed!" - - - - - *CHAPTER XII* - - *Castle Ruthènes* - - -Early on the following day Edgar, accompanied by Peter, reconnoitred -Castle Ruthènes from the shelter of the thick woods which stretched to -within less than a hundred yards of its walls. In the light of his -knowledge of the castles of the time, Edgar could study the stronghold -with a real appreciation of its strong and weak points. Its chief -characteristic was a square central donjon, apparently of great age, -which towered high above the outer walls. These were somewhat low, -though of a very massive build, and appeared to belong to a later date -than the donjon, having probably been thrown out as an additional screen -against a surprise attack. - -About the walls ran a moat, fairly wide and apparently deep, formed by a -stream from the mountains being dammed back and looped, so as to -complete the circumference of the walls. The castle stood in a hollow, -and the moat ran sluggishly at a level with the surrounding land, which -was boggy and springy, as though the water often overflowed and covered -it inches deep. The place seemed to reek with moisture, the walls being -mossgrown and discoloured; while the thick woods, encroaching closely -upon the narrow patch of grassy plain, seemed to add to the forbidding, -cheerless air of the gloomy fortalice. - -The outer walls were pierced in one spot only, and that was at the main -gateway. Here the moat was spanned by a drawbridge of modern -appearance, but Edgar could see no traces of a portcullis, its place -being taken by heavy oaken gates faced with plates of iron. - -Struck by the gloomy, unhealthy look of the castle, Edgar could not help -exclaiming in a voice of deep concern: - -"I hope, Peter, they have treated Sir John well. The dungeons of such -castles usually lie deep below the level of the moat. If they have -immured him in one of those I fear for him. Sir John's health hath -suffered much from his many campaigns." - -"I hope not, Master Edgar. But we must hasten the more to release him, -though how 'tis to be done I know not." - -"We, or I, might perhaps gain entrance in disguise, though that would -mean a daylight entry, and we should be under observation, and could -hardly hope to effect much. Besides, since the simple old priest so -quickly penetrated our disguise, I have lost faith in our abilities in -that direction--our tongue, I fear, betrayeth us all too quickly." - -Peter nodded in agreement. - -"Come, let us make the full circuit of the walls, Peter, keeping well -within the shadow of the woods. So far, I can see no way in save by -scaling the walls themselves." - -"By a ladder?" queried Peter. - -"Nay, a ladder would betray us, if not before we entered, certainly at -dawn the following morning. Nay, but a rope and grapnel in patient hands -should win an entrance." - -"A rope and grapnel!" cried Peter. "A rope we can doubtless obtain from -someone among the country folk, but where may we obtain a grapnel?" - -"We can improvise one. A sword wrapped in cloths might be well lodged -in the spaces betwixt those blocks on the summit of the wall--thy steel -scabbard, Peter, with the rope tied to its middle, flung up and properly -lodged, would easily take the weight of one of us. Ha, 'tis easy after -all!" - -"But could we fling scabbard and rope to the summit of the wall from the -distance of the edge of the moat?" - -"'Twill certainly be a long throw. Is there no place where a bank at -the bottom of the wall will give us a footing? Look closely, Peter, and -see if thou canst discern such a bank anywhere. If we can see none we -must, when the time comes, swim the whole circle of the walls and feel -for one. A footing in mud and water will serve our turn." - -"I see something, Master Edgar. See--where that clump of reeds shows a -foot above the water against the walls--the bottom must be near the -surface there." - -"Maybe--unless there be but soft mud. Look again, Peter--we must, if we -can, find a place where we can swing our rope full freely." - -Before the circuit of the walls had been completed, a place had been -found where a low bank lay between the moat and the foot of the wall. -This was hailed with satisfaction as a step in the direction of scaling -the outer defences of the castle, and during the remainder of the day -Edgar and Peter sat down to watch all that went on, and particularly -what sentries were posted and how far their observation extended. - -Ere the day was out they had made up their minds that a good watch was -kept, and that the slackness referred to by the priest had either never -existed or had recently, from one cause or another, been entirely -removed. Two men-at-arms were always upon the walls, keeping watch from -opposite angles, from which the whole extent of the outer defences could -be easily surveyed. Another man was posted at the gateway, to operate -the drawbridge and to keep a lookout upon all who came to claim -admittance. These sentries, too, were not only present, but appeared to -be watchful and alert to all that went forward. Depressed at the -evidence of the keen watch kept, but elated at finding a bank from which -the rope and grapnel might be cast with some chance of success, Edgar -and Peter returned to the poor dwelling at which they had obtained -temporary shelter, there to await the time when their first attempt -should be made. - -As on the evening before, the priest appeared and supped with them, more -for company's sake on this occasion, it seemed, than with any desire to -keep watch upon them and their movements. Feeling a good deal of -confidence in the kindly, careworn face with the steady grey eyes, Edgar -told the priest what they had learned and how he proposed to effect an -entrance. The news that the garrison was keeping a careful watch seemed -to fill the priest with surprise and some concern. - -"Can it be that they have heard of your arrival?" he said. "And yet if -that were so 'twould not be the posting of extra guards that I should -expect, but the sally of a score of their blood-stained men-at-arms, who -would pour into this village in an iron stream as they have done so -often before. Ye would have been routed out, and within five minutes the -branches of the nearest tree would have groaned beneath your weight. -That is what has been before. Why, then, have they posted sentinels? -Nothing else hath occurred save the arrival at the castle of a man who -must indeed be of some consequence, seeing that he was accompanied by an -escort of two men-at-arms." - -"When did this man arrive?" asked Edgar quickly. - -"On the morning of the day of your arrival--that is, yesterday." - -"Canst describe him to me?" - -"I did not see the man, and those who reported it to me, as all do the -most trifling events, said that they could see little of him, as his -head was swathed in bandages." - -"It is he," murmured Edgar half to himself. - -"Who? Whom dost mean? Dost know the man?" cried the priest sharply. - -"I fear so. I think it must be this evil knight of whom I have told -thee. The blow with which I worsted him in the lists at Bordeaux was -severe, and I know that his head had to be much bandaged. Then before I -left I learned that he had already gone. 'Tis he of a surety. He hath -followed his victim." - -"Can he know that thou art here?" - -"I think not; but one cannot be sure, and he will guess that I would not -remain idle." - -"Then it is this knight, this enemy of thine, who hath caused the watch -to be doubled. 'Twill be the harder for thee to find a way in by thy -stratagem. Hast brought a rope with thee?" - -"No. I must make enquiries and obtain one." - -"I will do so for thee. Thou wilt only arouse suspicion and make folk -talk. Leave it to me, Sir Squire." - -Edgar thanked the priest warmly, and stipulated that it should be both -light and strong. Then they went on to talk of other things, and the -priest told Edgar stories of his work amongst the poor peasantry. Some -were humoursome, others bright stories illustrating the homely virtues -of the folk and their generosity one to another; but the greater part -were tales of cruelty and oppression, which made Edgar's blood -boil--tales of men tortured into revealing where their little store of -worldly wealth, laid by with much self-denial, had been hidden away; and -tales of men done to death for their "obstinacy", when they had no store -whose whereabouts they could reveal to satisfy their relentless -persecutors. It all seemed almost incredible to Edgar, until he -recollected the stories he had heard handed down of the deeds done in -his own land but a century or two before. - -It was three days before Edgar obtained a rope that he thought gave him -the least hope of success in the venture he had in hand. The good -priest did all in his power, and scarce a rope in the neighbourhood but -was brought in and tried. But the ropes that the peasants possessed -were rough and heavy and in no way suited to Edgar's purpose. In -despair, at last he saddled his steed and rode away to the nearest town -and purchased one there, returning by a forced march the same day. - -That same night Peter and he, accompanied by the priest, made their way -into the woods surrounding Castle Ruthènes. By a stroke of good fortune -the night was a favourable one. Heavy clouds shrouded the light of the -moon, and made even the biggest objects loom black and indistinct. A -watcher on the walls would need the sharpest eyes to see a figure at the -foot, and with the comforting feeling that all was so far going in their -favour the two young men took leave of the priest at the edge of the -wood and stole across the narrow strip of sward. - -"God be with thee!" the priest had whispered, and with a pressure of the -hand that Edgar now knew to be the hand of a friend, he had bade them -adieu. - -The point at which they left the woods was, they knew, in a line with -that part of the moat where the low bank rose at the foot of the wall, -and as soon as they reached the edge of the water, both slipped -noiselessly in and swam gently towards the castle walls. - -Both were good swimmers, even Peter, in spite of his infirmity, having -long since learned to keep himself afloat without difficulty. Edgar -carried the line and the improvised grapnel, which had been well swathed -in cloths to ensure its falling dully wherever it struck. He also, wore -his shirt of mail and his sword. The weight was considerable, but he -was too practised a swimmer for that to trouble him for a few dozen -yards, and he had a decided objection to being quite defenceless when he -had gained entry into the enemy's quarters. - -The water struck chill. Heavy weeds that appeared almost to choke the -stream clung to their legs and impeded their progress. They could see -nothing save a wall of blackness that rose before them forbiddingly. -All seemed to be as silent as the tomb. - -They were slow in making the passage, as their one desire was to make no -sound, but presently they reached the side. Touching bottom in several -feet of mud, they slowly raised themselves out of the water and began to -crawl up the bank. - -Suddenly they were startled beyond measure by a tremendous screech and -flutter which arose from right under their very noses. In their -amazement and alarm they sprang back a couple of feet into deep water -with a splash, and then saw, or rather heard, a flock of frightened -ducks rise with a whirr and cackle from the bank and fly above their -heads round the angle of the castle walls. - -Deeply chagrined, the two young men crawled from the moat upon the bank -and lay there listening intently. Such a mischance they had never -dreamed of, and it seemed more than possible that it might have alarmed -one of the guards and brought him to the spot to learn the cause of the -birds' alarm. With deepest annoyance Edgar upbraided himself for not -observing that a flock of half-wild ducks belonging to the castle had -made a home on the bank he had counted upon in his plans. - -For half an hour the two lay in the mud and water without stirring, -listening with all their ears and gazing up at the outline of the top of -the walls, which they could discern dimly against the sky. But the -peering figures of the sentinels that they half-expected to appear never -came. - -"All is well after all, I think, Peter," said Edgar at last. "That was -a bad start indeed, and had I not thought Sir John's need a most urgent -one, I should have been tempted to try another night. But as 'tis, if -any have marked the flutter and scare they have doubtless thought them -due to winged enemies of the wild fowl, and not to those with intent to -disturb the peace of the castle. Now let us try the powers of the line -and grapnel we obtained after so much time and trouble. 'Twould be hard -indeed to find them fail us now." - -The outer walls were comparatively low, little more than twenty feet or -so in height, and the throw of the grapnel was not a very difficult one. -But it proved exceedingly difficult to obtain a lodgment with it. Time -after time it was thrown with success well over the wall, but the -darkness of the night forced them to fling it at random, and as soon as -a strain was put upon it, down it fell again. - -At last, however, it held fast even when the weight of both was tried -upon it, and, overjoyed, Edgar instantly began to haul himself up hand -over hand until he reached the top. Here he rested arms and shoulders -on the wall while he paused a moment to listen. All was quiet, however, -and drawing himself right up he signalled to Peter with the rope that -all was clear for him to ascend in his turn. - -In a few minutes both were safely on the wall, crouching in the deepest -shadows they could find. The first stage of their enterprise had been -successfully accomplished, and though cold and wet and shivering as with -the ague, they felt elated that they were well on the way to the -accomplishment of their formidable task. - -"Draw up and coil the rope, Peter. We must take it with us, for -doubtless we shall need it 'gainst our return." - -Peter silently obeyed. - -"Now follow me quietly, lad," and Edgar led the way softly along the -wall, keeping well in the shadow, until they reached a narrow flight of -stone steps that led down to the castle courtyard. Against them loomed -the deep shadow of a corner turret, and, thinking that this might -possibly be a likely place for a man-at-arms to be stationed on the -watch, Edgar paused and listened intently. - -"Forward, Peter," he whispered; "Black Eustace and his men are asleep, I -verily believe." - -"Black Eustace never sleeps," echoed a rough voice from the blackness of -the turret, and a dark form sprang suddenly upon Edgar and nearly -brought him to the ground. Other figures followed, and in a twinkling -Edgar and Peter were struggling in the grip of half a dozen men. - -"Slay them not--at present," commanded the deep voice of the man who had -first spoken. "Bring torches and bind them well. Then shall we see who -hath dared to set foot upon the walls of the castle of Eustace de -Brin--Black Eustace, one of the knaves called me, did he? We shall see. -Mayhap he will be right." - -It was but a spring from the walls to safety, and Edgar struggled -fiercely to fling off his many assailants. A desperate effort freed his -right arm, and a heavy blow rid him of one of them for a time. But he -was no nearer even temporary freedom, for one of the men had clutched -him firmly round the waist from behind with one hand while with the -other he seized him by the hair and dragged his head forcibly back. -Slowly but surely, notwithstanding his most frantic efforts, Edgar found -his head dragged relentlessly back until his neck seemed on the point of -snapping beneath the cruel strain. To struggle on was hopeless, and, -weak from his exertions and with his senses nearly gone, Edgar allowed -his arms to be drawn behind his back and there secured without further -resistance. - -Torches were brought. One was thrust close to Edgar's face--so close -that his hair was singed and his cheek scorched--and a man peered -searchingly at him. - -[Illustration: "A TORCH WAS THRUST CLOSE TO EDGAR'S FACE"] - -"I know not the varlet," he growled, and Edgar recognized the voice of -the man who had first spoken and who had admitted himself to be Eustace -de Brin. "He seemeth not to belong to these dogs of peasants who would -dearly love to bite the hand of their master an they got the chance. -Here, camarade, perchance this is one of the hounds thou hast feared -might be on thy track." - -A man who had held aloof from the struggle came forward at the call, and -Edgar, whose head had now been released from its intolerable strain, had -no difficulty in recognizing, in spite of his bandages, the fierce eyes -and harsh visage of Sir Gervaise de Maupas. The recognition was mutual, -for with a shout of astonishment and savage joy, the knight cried: - -"It is! It is! This is none other than that braggart esquire of whom I -told thee, Eustace." - -"What! The boy who gave thee that clout in the lists that nearly sent -thee where thou art so eagerly awaited?" cried De Brin with a loud -laugh. - -"Nay, Eustace," cried De Maupas, giving the speaker no very friendly -look. "He is the boy who played me a base trick that by an unfortunate -mischance I could not frustrate. But he will play me no more. Give him -to me, Eustace, as an earnest of the goodwill thou hast so often spoken -of, but of which I have seen little enough solid evidence; as some -slight return, too, for the many profitable ventures I have put thee in -the way of." - -"Well, well, we will talk more of that anon, camarade Gervaise. The -disposal of the boy's body is nothing to me, so long as he is punished -for his insolent daring in scaling the walls of my castle; but first I -must know how we stand in this business. D'ye know the other man?" - -Peter was next examined. "Yes," growled the knight, "this dog is one of -the plotters. He is somewhat of a cripple--Baulch hath told me of -him--but is not too crippled to give us trouble. Guard him well, -Eustace, or thou wilt regret it." - -"Ha! ha! ha! friend Gervaise, thou wilt, when thou know'st me better, -find that I have a shorter way than that with those who might -inconvenience me did they but get the chance." - -The words were spoken with meaning, and De Maupas looked doubtfully at -the speaker, as though neither liking nor understanding what he meant. -"If thou meanest to imply----" he began at length. - -"Lead on, men," cried Eustace de Brin, taking no notice of his friend. -"Conduct the prisoners to the strongest cell beneath the donjon and see -them fast. Duprez, thou wilt have to answer for them--so guard them -well." - -Down the stone steps Edgar and Peter were marched until they reached the -courtyard. Here several of the men-at-arms left them, and, escorted -only by Duprez and one other, they skirted the massive walls of the -donjon until they came to a small low door. Through this door they were -hurried, and found themselves in what seemed to be a vast system of -underground passages and vaults which must have dated back to the -remoter days of the first beginnings of the castle. Some of the vaults -were below the donjon, while others seemed to burrow beneath the -flagstones of the courtyard. - -By the light of a single torch they were conducted along a passage whose -gloomy arched walls echoed back the sound of their footsteps with a -sullen insistence that seemed to make them contract yet more closely -upon the unhappy prisoners. Presently they reached an ancient, -monastic-looking cell, which they judged to be one of those situated -beneath the courtyard. Into this they were roughly thrust. The torch -was stuck into an iron ring above the doorway, and by its light Duprez -and his assistant proceeded to release the arms of their prisoners from -their bonds, and to load them afresh with heavy iron shackles which had -been hanging ready for use from a hook upon the wall. The chamber was -dank and heavy with moisture, and the shackles were thickly coated with -rust, wet and smeary to the touch. - -"Thou wilt find these safe enough for all their looks," growled Duprez, -as he shackled Edgar's right arm to his left leg and his left arm to his -right leg, so that he could barely stand upright. "These shackles have -held secure captives as strong as thou--aye, and men of noble and -knightly birth. Not once in my time has their grip relaxed until death -claimed their victims. Sir Eustace said I would have to answer for -thee--I object not to that, ha! ha!" - -"'Tis a poor thing to make merry at thy prisoners' expense," replied -Edgar shortly. - -Duprez stared at him as though scarcely comprehending his meaning. -Probably the sentiment was foreign to him. Then he turned to Peter and -trussed him in similar fashion, growling half to himself: - -"Cripple though thou art, 'twill be as well to shackle thee. After all, -'tis an honour to treat thee as a man of sound limbs, so let that -thought comfort thee 'gainst thy pleasant stay in the dungeons of -Ruthènes. Come, Rolfe, pick up their swords and daggers, and let us be -off to our beds. Long enough have we spent over this business." - -Sardonically bidding them good night, Duprez and his man left the -chamber, carrying with them the torch and the weapons they had taken -from their prisoners. The door clanged heavily to behind them, and -Edgar and Peter were left in total darkness to think over their most -perilous situation, and to wonder for how much of it they had to thank -their old foe, Sir Gervaise de Maupas. - - - - - *CHAPTER XIII* - - *Prisoners* - - -Worn out and dispirited, Edgar and Peter sank to the floor and lay there -motionless. Their sudden capture, after so successful a beginning, was -a stunning blow, and though neither was easily discouraged, they needed -time and thought to recover from it. - -After a time they grew drowsy, and presently forgot their troubles in -sleep. When they awoke they judged it to be broad daylight. Their cell -was still in semi-darkness, the only light that entered coming from a -grating high up at the summit of the arched stone roof. This grating, -Edgar calculated from his recollection of the trend of the passages they -had traversed, was on a level with the flagstones of the courtyard. - -The priest had told Edgar something of the history of the castle, and -from the appearance of the cell he came to the conclusion that the -network of underground dungeons and passages belonged to its more -ancient days, and had been left intact when it had been partially pulled -down and rebuilt. The conclusion brought him little additional hope, -for the walls were massively built of stone, and seemed to have been but -slightly affected by the lapse of time. - -"Canst think of any plan, Peter, by which we may effect our escape?" -asked Edgar, when he had carefully weighed all the chances in his own -mind. - -"Nay, unless we can reach up to the grating by standing on one another's -shoulders." - -"With these shackles? I fear there is little hope there, unless we can -first rid ourselves of these irons." - -"Yes, we must knock off our shackles first. As thou know'st, Master -Edgar, I was an armourer's assistant, and know something of chains and -rivets. If there be any weak spots I can find them, and shall know how -to deal with them. Had they left us but a dagger it would not have been -long, I'll warrant thee, before we moved our limbs in freedom." - -"Yes, yes; but it must be done without a dagger. And before we start we -must have some plan by which to escape when our shackles are off. -'Twould be useless to remove them only to be discovered by Duprez on his -next visit. They would be replaced by a stronger pair, and our plight -would be hopeless indeed. We must have a plan first. What doth the -door offer? Let us examine it carefully." - -Both moved eagerly to the door. As they did so their chains clanked -hideously, making a sound that seemed to strike into their hearts with -dread, bringing irresistibly home to them their desperate position. - -"Of a truth, it would be worth much to be rid of these shameful bonds -alone," cried Edgar passionately. "Nevertheless, we must not think of it -until we have our plans ready formed to our hands, Peter. Ha! 'Tis as I -feared. This door belongeth not to the age when these walls were built. -It is of far later make, and seems prodigiously strong--shake it and -feel its weight, Peter." - -Peter did so, and then stood back and gave a despondent shake of the -head. "Had they left us a piece of metal, however small, Master Edgar, -we might in time have scraped a hole through the door around the lock -and so opened it. But they have left nothing with me. Art sure they -have left thee nothing?" - -"They have left me nothing, Peter. They have taken my purse and all it -contains, so that not even a coin remains for such a task. But -stay--they have not touched my shirt of mail. Perchance we might do -something with a few of its links, small as they are." - -"Let us try--but hush, Master Edgar, someone approaches. I hear -footsteps in the passage outside." - -Both held their peace, and then, at a gesture from Edgar, sat down again -on the stones in an attitude of dejection. A key grated in the lock of -the door, and with much creaking and groaning the door was opened. Two -men were outside--Duprez and another man, a stranger to Edgar. One bore -an armful of rugs and the other some rough cakes and a pitcher, probably -containing water. - -"Thy bedding," grunted Duprez surlily. "Here, Guilbert, fling it in yon -corner. Thou art lucky," he went on, turning to Edgar, "to get as -much." - -"Lucky indeed," replied Edgar in a tone of weary indifference; "but can -thine other prisoner spare the rugs?" - -"Aye, they belong not--But what know ye--why talk ye of another -prisoner?" cried Duprez savagely, as he began to suspect that he had -told too much. - -"Oh, nothing! Surely one might guess ye had other prisoners in so large -a castle. Is this our food, friend Duprez? They do not intend to -starve us at any rate. Doubtless we may expect a meal twice or thrice -in the day?" - -"Ye may expect me when ye see me," cried the man harshly. "Ye would -like me to tell ye all, I make no doubt. Get ye to your food, and cease -to bandy words with me, or it may chance you will lose all appetite." - -"Hast ever found thy prisoners kept their appetites in such noisome and -dismal dungeons as these?" cried Edgar indignantly. "Didst thou take -away the desire to eat, doubtless 'twould but do the work this cell will -do as surely in a few short weeks." - -"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed Duprez with great zest. "Thou art a sharp fellow. -'Tis very true. My customers soon lose appetite, and finding they do -not appreciate my trouble in bringing them their food, sometimes I -forget it for a day or two. Ha! ha! It saves a lot of trouble in the -end, and Sir Eustace makes no bones." - -"Begone! callous brute that ye are," cried Edgar, jumping to his feet in -a burst of involuntary indignation. "Kill us outright an ye be a man." - -Duprez's merriment instantly vanished, and was succeeded by a burst of -passion that he made no attempt to hold in check. "Silence, knave!" he -cried savagely, as he struck Edgar violently on the mouth with his -clenched fist. He then gave the pitcher his man had brought a vicious -kick that dashed it into fragments, and, turning on his heel, sullenly -left the cell. - - * * * * * - -As soon as they had eaten the cakes still left to them, Edgar and Peter -began to ponder means of escape. The shirt of mail was tried, and -several links obtained after much labour, but they were so small and so -unsuited to the purpose the two had dimly in view that after a few -minutes' trial the idea was given up in disgust. Even if it escaped -detection, an attempt by such means would have taken so long as to be -almost hopeless of success. - -During the remainder of the day Duprez never came near the prisoners. -Doubtless he had counted upon his destruction of the pitcher inflicting -much suffering upon them. But happily the water had splashed upon the -oaten cakes, and had wetted them so thoroughly that they had rather -helped to assuage the pangs of thirst than added to them. - -As near as the pair could judge, it was late on the afternoon of the -second day when they again heard footsteps outside the door. Their -first thought was that Duprez and his man were returning at last; but as -the footsteps came nearer they gathered that only one person was -approaching, and that probably that someone was more lightly shod than -either of their jailers. The door opened, and to their astonishment Sir -Gervaise de Maupas entered. - -At the sight of him Edgar involuntarily sprang to his feet, dominated -for the moment by feelings of anger and excitement. - -De Maupas raised his hand and calmly waved him back. "It seems thou art -surprised to see me," he said easily. "Thou wilt, I think, be more so -when thou hast learned somewhat of mine errand and found how magnanimous -I can be." - -With an effort, Edgar mastered his indignation and simply nodded his -head as though waiting to hear more before accepting such a statement. -The knight spoke with quiet confidence. Most of his bandages were now -gone, and he seemed himself again and sure that the errand on which he -had come would end as he desired. - -"What ye have learned of me," he went on, pacing slowly up and down the -narrow limits of the cell, "doubtless ye have learned from Sir John. -Well, know this, that Sir John is the lifelong enemy of me and mine, and -the fault of it lies not with me but with him. Aught that he hath told -ye to my disadvantage is therefore not to be relied upon, for he hateth -me and maligns me for his own base purposes. He is no true knight, and -ye are mistaken in espousing his cause. I have told you the truth, so -that ye may know that ye are honourably released from all allegiance to -him." - -"But if thou art the true knight thou sayest, how comes it that thou art -staying as a friend in the castle of this Eustace de Brin, a knight of -ill reputation and one of the enemies of our country?" - -De Maupas frowned and momentarily checked his stride. "That is a long -story," he said. "I am here out of no alliance with the enemies of our -country; rather indeed to further its interests, for I am gaining much -useful knowledge. But thou art indeed right when thou sayest the owner -of this grim castle is a man of ill reputation. The scenes these cells -have beheld would appal the stoutest heart could they be unfolded. -Beware, then, that thou sharest not the fate of thy predecessors. Sir -Eustace, I know, is deeply enraged with thee. He says thou art the -first man to dare enter his castle without his permission, and he -purposes to slay thee. Knowing thee for a fellow countryman, I -intervened, and with such influence as I possess begged him to allow me -to offer thee a hope of life--life in the open air and sunshine, not -cooped within the narrow limits of a cell that must sooner or later -drive thee mad. Say then, dost desire to accept my offer?" - -"What is this offer?" asked Edgar shortly. "We are ready enough to leave -this cell, as thou canst well imagine. But we must carry our honour -unsullied with us." - -"I will watch over thine honour as I would over mine own," cried De -Maupas emphatically. Then, not noticing the half-smile his declaration -had conjured up, he went on, "Ye may have heard that I claim to be the -rightful owner of the estates now held by Sir John Chartris? Mine they -are, and I hold that he is keeping me out of them by nothing less than -trickery and fraud. I have vowed to meet trickery by trickery, fraud by -fraud, and I have, as ye know, captured Sir John and am holding him to -ransom. My price for his release is an acknowledgment of my better -claim to the estates. What could be more reasonable? Unfortunately, -for himself as well as for me, he is proving obstinate. He will not -yield his ill-gotten lands, and in my good nature, desiring not to do -him hurt, I have cast about and found a way out of the difficulty. He -shall keep the lands, but must assist me to the best of his power to win -compensation in another direction. That is most fair, is it not, young -sir? You see, I am trusting you fully, well knowing the justice of my -cause." - -"Yes, yes," replied Edgar quickly, "but what is this compensation?" The -knight's tone and bearing were so smooth and peaceable, and he seemed in -so reasonable a frame of mind, that Edgar's opinion of him, well -grounded though it was, was almost shaken. - -"'Tis simply this. I am deeply enamoured of his ward, Beatrice -d'Alençon, and would fain win her hand in marriage. All I ask are his -good offices and influence to aid my suit. Could I be more magnanimous -towards one whom I regard as a lifelong foe?" - -Utterly astounded at the extraordinary change of front, for a moment -Edgar could but gape. Then he recovered himself and asked quickly, "But -thou know'st not the lady D'Alençon. Thou hast, to my knowledge, spoken -not one word to her. How then canst say thou art enamoured of her?" - -"How could I approach her? My enmity with Sir John was so great that I -should but have exposed myself to humiliation had I tried to make her -closer acquaintance. As it was, I was forced to worship from afar." - -"De Maupas, thou art twice her age and more, and I find it hard indeed -to believe thy story. Her lands are wide, and in their breadth alone I -fear thy love has found its birth." - -"It is not so, Edgar Wintour. I have a real fancy for the maid, though -I would not deny that her lands are of importance in my eyes. But I am -a knight of birth; one too, who, if he had his rights, would own lands -as wide and rich as hers. Therefore it seemeth to me that I am a fitting -match for Beatrice d'Alençon. But enough of explanations. I am about to -make the offer to Sir John, and to thee I make an offer no less -generous. Aid me in persuading Sir John and after, and ye shall both go -free. Refuse, and ye must rot in this loathsome dungeon--rot or go mad: -one or other is as certain in the course of a few weeks as it is certain -that Gervaise de Maupas stands before thee." - -Our hero was undoubtedly staggered at the offer so skilfully held out as -an honourable exchange for Sir John's life and the claims De Maupas had -long laid to his estates. Sir John's life was all important in Edgar's -eyes, and could a means be found by which it might be honourably saved -the loss of the estates of either ward or guardian weighed with him but -little by comparison. The offer of De Maupas was therefore not one to -be dismissed without consideration. He therefore took refuge in -silence, while he tried to wrest any hidden motives for the offer there -might be from the network of clever words in which he half-feared De -Maupas had shrouded his real plans. - -There could be no doubt that Sir John had refused to purchase his life -at the expense of his estates and the rights of his successors. That -much was clear from De Maupas's presence in the cell that moment. -Foiled in his first move, and unwilling to take Sir John's life while -some profit might be made of it, he had bethought him of a plan by which -he might purchase his rights and influence over his ward, the lady -Beatrice. Her lands were even wider and richer than her guardian's, and -the wily plotter had hit upon a way of obtaining them that would, he -knew, pass muster readily enough as knightly and honourable. - -The story of his passion for her was doubtless trumped up for the -occasion, to give an air of romance and honourable dealing to what was -little more than barefaced robbery. Nevertheless, it was a story that -would be widely believed, though that Beatrice must and always would -loathe the man, Edgar felt not the slightest doubt. - -It was more than probable, too, that De Maupas had already broached his -plan to Sir John, and, meeting with a rebuff, had bethought him of Edgar -and hoped to obtain his aid in persuading his master. The more Edgar -thought over the scheme, however, and the more he stripped it of its -trappings of pretended love and romance, the more he felt it to be every -whit as shameful as the first plan by which De Maupas had sought to -obtain the Wolsingham lands by threats and violence. - -"What is to be your answer to my generous offer, young sir?" said De -Maupas at length. He still paced slowly to and fro the length of the -cell, and his bearing was as easy and confident as ever. Edgar, however, -had been not unheedful of the quick furtive glances he had cast at him -every now and again as he turned in his stride. - -"I will have no part in this matter, De Maupas," Edgar replied quickly. -"I trust thee not, and much of thy story I cannot believe. More than -that, I am not ready to purchase my life at another's expense." - -"It is Sir John's life, too, that thou art casting away like a fool," -cried De Maupas angrily. - -"Sir John hath, I doubt not, already told thee that he prefers death to -dishonour. I, his esquire, say the same, on both his account and my -own." - -A malignant look flamed up on the knight's face, and Edgar knew that he -had judged his plans and motives aright. - -"Death thou certainly shalt have, boy--I have sworn it long since," -cried De Maupas furiously, placing his hand on his dagger as though he -longed to carry his threat into instant execution. "But if thou -think'st to obtain an honourable death with thy blood coursing warmly -through thy veins, thou wilt be mistaken. Slowly, inch by inch, in -silence and despair, shalt thou die--not with the plaudits of thousands -ringing in thine ears as when, like a mad fool, thou didst brave my -lifelong anger. Bah! I shall yet see thee blench and, cringing at my -feet, beg for thy life and a glimpse of open air and sky. I can tell -thee that the past has shown that these monkish walls have a secret of -their own for crushing wills stronger far than thine." - -As he spoke the last few words the knight eyed Edgar with a gaze so -stern and menacing that it seemed as though he hoped by its very -intensity to cow him into submission. - -"Never will I cringe to thee, Gervaise de Maupas," cried Edgar hotly, -returning him look for look. - -"We shall see," growled De Maupas savagely, as he turned sharply on his -heel and left the cell, jerking the door to with a dull crash behind -him. - - - - - *CHAPTER XIV* - - *A Desperate Venture* - - -As soon as the excitement caused by the sudden appearance of De Maupas -had begun to subside, Edgar recollected something that he had heard -while the interview was proceeding, but which he had then no time to -dwell upon. This was a strange sound, muffled and indistinct as though -coming from a distance, which, having no opportunity for listening -attentively, he had been unable to define. It might have been, he now -thought, the cry of an animal or even of some human being in distress. - -"Didst hear what sounded like distant cries while the door stood open, -Peter?" - -"I did, Master Edgar. They sounded strange and unearthly and I could -make nothing of them. I heard the like when Duprez brought us food -yesterday, but took no heed." - -"Ah! Can it be that they are torturing Sir John to compel him to yield -compliance with their infamous projects?" exclaimed Edgar, beginning to -pace restlessly up and down the cell as well as his shackles would -permit. "De Maupas and this Black Eustace are, I verily believe, -capable of deeds every whit as base and pitiless." - -"Thinkest thou so?" cried Peter excitedly. "Then let us spring upon our -jailers and, if need be, perish in an effort to save our master from so -fearful a fate." - -"Truly it is intolerable that we should remain supine here," replied -Edgar in a voice vibrating with emotion, "but to attack our jailers, -shackled as we are, would mean, I fear, but certain defeat. Would I -could think of some way--but, yes, I have 't! Dost see yon bracket -above the door?" - -"Aye, sir, what wouldst do? Tear it down and use it as a weapon?" - -"Nay, it looks to be embedded so deeply in the masonry that 'twould need -weeks of work to loosen it. My thought was that could I climb upon it I -might, at his next entry, spring upon Duprez all unawares. My weight -and the shock of it might well rid us of him for the time and leave us -two, shackled and without weapons, to face one man armed. Joyfully will -we not accept the odds?" - -"Aye, to that," cried Peter eagerly. "The plan soundeth well if the -bracket will hold thy weight, and thou canst reach up to get upon it all -cumbered with thine irons." - -"Let us try, Peter. Stand close against the door and let me climb upon -thy shoulders. Though I cannot move my hands higher than my waist, I -think I can yet make shift to clamber up." - -The bracket above the door on to which Edgar was endeavouring to climb -consisted of a thick bar of iron with a socket, into which Duprez had -thrust the torch when he had first entered the cell with his prisoners. -It was thickly crusted with rust, but was so massive that it seemed -likely enough that it would more than bear Edgar's weight. - -After a few minutes' clambering he managed to perch himself upon the -bar, and by resting his back flat against the wall, could hold himself -steady in his difficult position. Did Duprez and his man enter while he -was in that position, it seemed easy to leap upon one of them and to -bear him to the ground with crushing force. - -"It offers good hopes of freedom, Peter!" exclaimed Edgar exultingly as -he clambered with difficulty down from his dizzy position. "If we can -overcome our two jailers, we shall be able to don their cloaks and issue -forth freely. Did we only dare wait for darkness, we should, I doubt -not, be able to reach the walls with little chance of discovery." - -"They have taken our ropes," observed Peter. - -"A plunge from the walls into the moat will not come amiss if Sir John -be not injured. We can flounder out and be hidden in the woods ere ever -the drawbridge can be lowered. What is it, Peter? Hast heard -something?" - -"Yes, yes, I think I can hear footsteps in the distance outside. -Quickly, Master Edgar--wilt thou not clamber up above the door and be -ready?" - -Hastily Edgar prepared to climb, but before he was halfway up he heard -sounds that brought him leaping to the ground. Placing his ear to one -of the cracks of the door, he listened with agonized attention. Again -in the distance he could hear the strange wails and screams which he had -heard before. - -"Listen, Peter, and tell me what ye think." - -Peter obeyed. "I can make no more of it than before," he remarked after -a pause. "The sounds seem like nothing that I----But hark! I can hear -the sound of footsteps coming and going. We shall have Duprez here -anon." - -But the two prisoners were left undisturbed. The noise of footsteps -died away, and with it the strange sounds that had so puzzled and -alarmed Edgar--nay, alarmed him still, for he could not help connecting -the sounds with Sir John, and feared that his ruthless enemies might be -torturing or tormenting him into acquiescence in their plans. The more -he thought of it the more he felt that such might be the case, and the -more impatient he became to escape and hasten to his master's aid. - -"Come, Peter," he cried at last, "we shall do little more by taking -thought. At the next visit of Duprez we must try conclusions. Aid me -to practise mounting rapidly to the bracket, so that when we next hear -footsteps I may be prepared for action without loss of time." - -For half an hour Edgar practised until he could clamber up and get ready -with great rapidity. Night had by that time fallen, and as it seemed -unlikely that Duprez would visit them again that day, they gathered the -rugs together and disposed themselves to sleep. - -Scarcely had they dozed off, however, when they were awakened by the -sound of footsteps close at hand and by the glint of a light beneath the -door. The moment of their opportunity had come! Duprez was doubtless at -the door. - -With feverish impatience, Edgar hastened to the door and began to -clamber up to his station. His movements were cramped and impeded by -his shackles and the absolute necessity that no clanking of chains -should warn their jailers that the prisoners were up and doing. Ere he -had fully gained his coign of vantage the key was grating in the lock, -and Peter had barely time to scuttle back to the farthest corner of the -cell and to crouch down among the rugs, feigning sleep, before the door -began to swing back upon its hinges. - -"Come, ye proud varlets, ye are honoured tonight. Sir Eustace desires -speech with you. Ha, ha! Much comfort to you 'twill be, I'll warrant." - -As he spoke Duprez strode into the cell, followed by another man who -carried a torch, which he raised above his head to catch a glimpse of -the prisoners. - -With a sudden spring, Edgar flung himself down upon the torchbearer, -landing full upon him and crushing him to the ground with stunning -force. The torch spun from his hand into a corner, and lay there -spluttering in the damp, shedding a feeble, fitful light upon the scene. -With a loud shout of alarm, Duprez grasped his sword by the hilt and -strove to pluck it from its sheath. Before he could do so, however, -Edgar had sprung upon him from the rear, whilst Peter seized him round -the legs from the front. Down he went headlong, struggling furiously -and shouting for aid, until Edgar grasped him by the throat and choked -the sound with a grip of iron. Meanwhile the man who had borne the -torch lay without a movement. His forehead had struck the flagstones -with a force that had rendered him unconscious. - -"Tear me some strips from yon rugs," cried Edgar in a minute or two, -when Duprez, half-choked and fully mastered, had begun to relax his -struggles. "Take this dagger--quick!" - -Peter drew the dagger from its sheath, and in a few seconds had slit off -some strips of hide from the rough sheepskin rugs. With these Edgar -bound Duprez's arms securely behind his back. The other man was then -trussed in similar fashion, though, so far, he had shown no sign of -returning consciousness. - -"Peter," continued Edgar with breathless energy as soon as their jailers -were secure, "place the torch upright against the wall and bend all -thine energies to ridding thyself and me of our shackles. We have two -swords and a dagger. That should be sufficient for an armourer's -assistant. Get quickly to work, or it will be too late. Be silent if -thou canst." - -He then turned to Duprez. - -"Dost wish to live, scoundrel?" he said sternly. "Thou knowest as -certainly as we do that our lives are forfeit if taken--dost then think -we are likely to spare thee? What dost bid for thy life?" - -"What want ye?" gasped Duprez, whose face was livid and full of fear as -the wild shackled figure stooped over him, grasping a dagger snatched -from the belt of the other man. - -"A few words--no more. But they may spell life to thee." - -"Ask." - -"Where is Sir John Chartris?" - -"The other prisoner--the man who came a week agone?" - -"Yes, a man of knightly bearing, aged some forty years." - -"He is in this donjon, in a room near Sir Eustace. He was in one of -these cells but a few hours since." - -"What! Was his, then, the voice we heard? You have tortured him, -inhuman monsters!" and Edgar, in his anger, thrust the point of the -dagger so close to Duprez's neck that the man winced with fear. - -"Nay, nay, good sir, we have tortured him not. He contracted a fever two -days after he came, and is wild with delirium. Sir Eustace feared to -lose him if he kept him in these dungeons, and had him taken to a room -halfway up the keep." - -"Ah! Tell me how I may reach this room." - -Sullenly the man obeyed. - -"These keys at thy belt. Which is the key of Sir John's room?" - -Again the man gave the information desired, and Edgar, satisfied that he -had obtained all that he required, stripped him of his cloak and then -gagged him effectively with pieces torn from the rugs. In his elation -he could have shouted for joy. Sir John was ill, but if all went well -before another hour had gone he would at least be free. - -By this time Peter had rid himself of one of his shackles and the other -was nearly shorn through. The shackles, though thick and heavy, were -soft and rusty, and were an easy problem to an armourer's assistant in -possession of well-tempered swords and a dagger. In a few more minutes -he was free to attack Edgar's bonds in their turn. Soon he also could -stretch his limbs in freedom. - -"Well done, Peter! Now strip that man of his cloak and put it on. Gird -on sword and dagger, roll up the rugs, and let us be off. Sir Eustace -is awaiting us, and unless we act at once our chance will be lost for -ever." - -"'Tis so, Master Edgar. We have indeed little time to lose. If Sir -Eustace waxeth impatient, he may send other men to look for the first." - -"Yes, 'tis unfortunate that it was to fetch us to Sir Eustace that -Duprez came; but that cannot be helped, and at least 'tis night, and the -greater part of the castle inmates will be asleep. In these cloaks we -shall be able to pass along unmolested, if so be we can avoid Black -Eustace whilst bringing out Sir John." - -Taking up the torch, Edgar left the grim cell, closely followed by -Peter, and shut the door behind him. They were free for the -moment--free until Sir Eustace grew impatient at the tardy return of his -messengers and set out to enquire the reason. - -As rapidly as possible the two young men traversed the ghostly -underground passages and ascended a narrow winding staircase of stone -towards the room in which Duprez had said Sir John was now lodged. It -was found without difficulty, for, to their horror, as they neared the -spot they heard the selfsame cries that had so startled them before. It -seemed that Duprez had spoken truly, and as he reached the door it was -with a trembling hand that Edgar thrust the key into the lock. - -The room was in darkness, but by the light of the torch held on high he -saw Sir John. He was alone, but on a table near by were food and drink, -which seemed to have been placed there not long since. The knight lay -on a couch fully clothed, and was staring straight up at the ceiling, -tossing his arms and shouting. At the noise of Edgar's entry and the -light of the torch, he ceased for a moment, and, lifting his head, -stared at the newcomers with eyes that seemed to search without the -power of thought. Then his head fell back, and he resumed his wild -shouting and tossing. - -"Thou shalt see, false knight--think'st to bend to thy will a true -knight of England? Infamous proposals! Worthy Gervaise de Maupas and -grim Eustace of Ruthènes! The earl shall know--at last I tell thee--the -time will come." - -"Sir John, Sir John," cried Edgar breathlessly, "we are come to set thee -free! Canst bear to be lifted, my lord?" - -"Hark, I hear the tramp of men! From the woods and mountains--they -come--black knight of Ruthènes. They come to avenge--dreadful deeds. -Full reparation shall they exact----" - -"Be silent, I beseech thee, Sir John!" cried Edgar in desperation, as he -realized how fearfully difficult would be the task of conveying the sick -knight from out the castle did he persist in his wild cries. Then he -placed his arm round him soothingly and tried to still his restless -tossings, talking quietly to him the while. "See, now, Sir John, we are -going to take thee to the lady Gertrude. She shall tend thee. Keep -thee still and all shall be well. Talk not so, dear Sir John, but rest -thy head on my shoulder. Soon shall we be out of this fearsome castle -and breathe freely the open air of heaven." Then in an urgent whisper -he went on: "Come, Peter, there is not an instant to be lost. He is -quieting. Wrap those rugs around him and take him gently by the legs. -I will bear his head and shoulders." - -For the moment the knight's cries sank into indistinct murmurs. He -seemed to feel that friends at last were around him, and to be content -to resign himself quietly into their hands. - -"Whither shall I lead?" whispered Peter, as he opened the door and -prepared to issue forth. - -"Boldly down the stairs, which should be at the end of the passage. -They lead to the main door into the courtyard. If any see us 'twill be -Duprez and his man conveying the sick prisoner to another chamber. If -any seek to know more we must silence them, and then on." - -"Dare we ascend the walls with Sir John in such sore plight, Master -Edgar?" - -"Nay, 'tis to the drawbridge we must go. We cannot lower a sick man -from the walls into the castle moat. We must surprise the sentinel at -the gates, and lower away before the alarm is sounded. If only Sir John -will keep as quiet as he is now, we may count upon taking the guard -unawares. He will doubtless be facing outwards to the foe, and not -inwards to the silent courtyard." - -Leaving their torch behind them, the two young men crept slowly and -silently along the passage with their burden. Halfway along they turned -a corner and came full upon a door which stood half-open close by. -Light streamed forth, and inside they could hear the regular thud of -ironclad heels as a man paced slowly up and down. - -Somehow the sound seemed to excite the sick knight they were bearing -beyond endurance. Springing suddenly half out of their arms, he cried -with tremendous energy: - -"To-morrow--in the lists--shalt thou answer for thy crimes, Gervaise de -Maupas. At the point of lance or sword--will I prove thy baseness. -_Laissez aller_! On! on! Good steed--stout lance--do thy devoir. Hah! -De Maupas, thou art down--yield thee----" - -"What have we here?" came in a voice of thunder from the room, and the -door was flung wide open by a hand rough and strong. In the doorway, -standing out clearly against the light, appeared the short, thick figure -of Eustace de Brin, clad from head to foot in dull black armour. - -"Back, Peter, back!" whispered Edgar in a voice of desperation. "Carry -Sir John, and return the way we came. I must defend the rear against -this wolf of Ruthènes. Be rapid, on thy life and ours!" - -Relinquishing his share of the burden to his companion, Edgar drew his -sword and prepared to defend himself against the attack he knew must -come from Sir Eustace. For a moment, however, the latter could see -nothing save shadowy figures hovering in the gloom. Sir John had again -fallen silent, as though exhausted by his furious outburst. - -"Is that thee, Duprez? Art come at last, ye tardy rascal? And what was -yon shouting? It sounded like the voice of the mad knight, Chartris. -Speak, man! hast lost thy voice?" - -Receiving no answer, the speaker, with an angry threat, plunged back -into his room, and, plucking a torch from the wall, sprang out into the -passage, sword in hand. - -Edgar instantly attacked him. Aiming at the torch held on high, he -severed it in twain at the first blow. The lighted end dropped down -upon the black knight's chest, and from thence to the floor in front of -him. Lunging forward to the attack once more, Edgar set his foot upon -it and plunged the passage in total darkness, while his sword rattled -vengefully against Sir Eustace's harness. - -With a cry of impotent fury Sir Eustace sprang back into the room he had -left. In the light of the falling torch he had recognized in his -adversary the esquire whom he had imprisoned and for whom he was even at -that moment impatiently waiting. He had come, indeed, but scarcely in -the manner he had expected. - -"Thou art mine still!" he shouted madly over his shoulder. "Dearly -shalt thou pay for thine insolence!" - -Freed for the moment, Edgar turned and sped down the passage as fast as -the pitchy darkness would allow. But before he had caught up Peter the -quick sharp clang of the alarm bell of the castle rang out with -insistent clangour upon the stillness of the night. Instantly shouts -and cries arose from all sides as the Ruthènes household and garrison -sprang excitedly from their beds. Sir Eustace had lost no time in -summoning the castle to arms, and to all appearances Edgar and his -companions were caught in the iron jaws of a trap. - -"We are lost, Master Edgar," cried Peter despairingly, as Edgar caught -him up at the head of the winding staircase which, led downward to the -dungeons they had left. "The alarm is sounded, and 'tis impossible that -we can escape in face of the castle garrison." - -"Courage, Peter!" cried Edgar. "Let me aid thee with Sir John. There -is still a slender thread of hope left to us, and we must follow it." - -"But why to our dungeons? Dost desire only to sell our lives as dearly -as possible?" - -"Nay, Peter. Dost not remember that just before we parted from the -priest he spoke of a legend among his folk which told of the existence -of an underground passage leading from out the castle? As we came from -our dungeon a while since, didst not note the flight of stone steps that -plunged yet deeper into the bowels of the earth? Our only chance is -that the legend is true, and I feel a mighty hope that 'tis so. Onward, -lad, onward!" - -"But surely there will be gates to either end which we must pass?" - -"We have Duprez's keys, and by God's will they will open all doors. -Press on! Already I hear the tramp of men along the passages above. -See, 'tis the glint of torches in the distance. We are but a minute -ahead of despair." - -As he spoke they reached level ground at the foot of the winding stairs, -and at the entrance to the passage which led into the labyrinth of -dungeons. Feeling about, Edgar found the stone steps which he had -noticed as he passed, and which at the time had made him wonder -momentarily whither they could lead, yet deeper into the earth. Groping -and stumbling, the two lads found their way to the bottom with their -burden. As they had half-expected, they found farther progress barred -by a massive iron-studded door. - -Groping down the side, Edgar found a keyhole and inserted a key. It did -not fit. Another and another he tried with feverish impatience. The -sound of voices and approaching footsteps every moment grew in volume. -The search party was already at the foot of the winding staircase, and -entering the passage to the dungeons. The light of the torches they -carried grew until Edgar could dimly make out the outline of the door -which alone, for the moment, stood between them and safety. - -Another key--and with a sigh of relief Edgar felt it sink into the lock. -A turn with all his strength, and the rusty wards slowly and gratingly -yielded. At the very moment when the pursuers reached the head of the -stairs above them the door slowly opened, letting out a waft of dank, -earthy air that even in their extremity gave them pause. Pitchy foul -blackness stretched before them, but behind were the savage retainers of -the black knight of Ruthènes. - -Suddenly a torch was flung down the narrow flight of steps. Doubtless -someone among the searchers above had heard a noise, or suspected that -the darkness below perhaps hid the fugitives they sought. The torch -fell upon the bottom steps and blazed up, revealing as with the light of -day the three crouching figures. There was a wild, irregular shout of -surprise and exultation from the men above. - - - *[Illustration: THE TORCH FELL UPON THE BOTTOM STEPS, - REVEALING THE THREE CROUCHING FIGURES. - (missing from book)]* - - -"Onward with Sir John, Peter!" cried Edgar, as he once more turned back, -sword in hand, to hold the rear. As he did so a sudden thought struck -him. Darting forward, he snatched up the blazing torch, sprang back -through the doorway, and, dropping his sword, heaved at the door with -all his strength. With a dull thud it swung to, shutting out all sight -of their pursuers and deadening to a murmur the shout of fury that went -up as Sir Eustace and his men saw further pursuit for the time -hopelessly blocked. - -"Back to the drawbridge!" cried Sir Eustace, almost beside himself with -rage. "Pounce upon them as they emerge at the other end." Then, -realizing that the secret of the underground passage would be at an end -did the garrison sally out indiscriminately, he gulped down his anger, -and commanded: "Nay, watch yon door lest the rascals return. Sir -Gervaise, and you, Duprez, and Manton, follow me across the drawbridge!" - - * * * * * - -By the light of the captured torch, Edgar and Peter made rapid progress -along the underground passage. The air was so foul and noisome that -even the torch burned dim, but their lives were in such jeopardy that -they had no thought but to press on. The passage was cut straight -through the earth, and was lined with stone. It seemed of great age. -Big clumps of fungi studded the walls, and water stood in pools at their -feet. Though in reality but a few minutes, it seemed an age before they -reached another door, which they guessed marked the farther end of the -tunnel. Once through this they doubted not that they would be safely -out of the castle. - -Edgar rapidly tried the keys until he found the one to fit. Again the -lock turned, though slowly and unwillingly, as though it had been years -since any had passed that way, and through the door they staggered, -gasping. The air was comparatively fresh on the other side, and above -their heads, in a tiny patch, they could see the stars. Holding up the -torch, Edgar saw a row of ladder-like steps leading straight upwards. -By the side of the steps a heavy iron chain hung down. Sending Peter up -in advance, Edgar took Sir John, laid him over his shoulder, and -grasping the chain with both hands, clambered painfully up. As he -reached the top of what seemed like a wooden chimney, he heard a dull -rattle and roar in the distance. - -"'Tis the drawbridge, Peter," he cried. "Where are we now?" - -"At the top of the trunk of a hollow tree, Master Edgar. We are in the -woods." - -"Hold Sir John while I clamber down. Then lower him down to me, and, if -I cannot reach him, let him drop. There is no time to think of a better -plan." - -Ere their pursuers had reached the edge of the woods Sir John had been -safely lowered into Edgar's arms, and Peter, in his turn, had -successfully clambered down. Bearing their burden between them, the two -lads moved quietly away among the trees. Fortunately for them, Sir John -had fallen quite silent and lay inert, as though in his weak state the -foul air of the tunnel had overcome him. Their escape was effected just -in time, for their pursuers were only a few yards away, their presence -betrayed by their angry mutterings. - -"Surround the tree!" they heard Sir Eustace order. "They can scarcely -be out so soon, bearing a sick man. Keep in the shadow of the -undergrowth, and fall upon them unawares. They are still ours to crush, -how and when we will." - -Filled with a thankfulness too great for words at having safely escaped -from a dreadful fate, Edgar and Peter moved softly away until they could -feel that they were safe. Then they sank upon the ground, overcome by -an exhaustion that their imminent peril had not allowed them to heed -until safety was assured. - - - - - *CHAPTER XV* - - *Ill News at Bordeaux* - - -After half an hour's rest Edgar judged it time to make a move. It was -clearly dangerous to keep Sir John in the chill night air longer than -was absolutely necessary, well wrapped up though he was. The village -was little more than half a mile away, and towards this the two lads -made their way through the woods, with many a stumble in the darkness. -Just as they were beginning to think that they had mistaken the -direction in which it lay, they suddenly came upon it. - -"Shall we make for the innhouse?" enquired Peter. - -"Nay, let us first seek the priest. It may be that Sir Eustace will -think that we have come from the village and will return there. He may -send in a messenger or a body of men to intercept us. Let us first seek -advice of the priest. I know his house; it lieth on the outskirts, to -the south." - -Struggling on for a few more minutes, the two lads found themselves at -last at the priest's house. It was in darkness, but presently, in -response to cautious knocks, a light appeared, and the door was unbolted -and opened. - -"Who seeks Father Armand at this late hour?" he asked. - -"The two strangers. We are back from Ruthènes and seek thine aid. We -have rescued the prisoner, but he is sick and sorely needs attention." - -"What! Escaped from Ruthènes?" cried the priest, as he stepped quickly -outside the house and laid his hand on Edgar's arm. "Warmly do I -felicitate you, for verily ye are the first that ever did so. And hast -rescued the prisoner ye sought? Marvel of marvels! But if that is so -'tis dangerous for you to stay here a minute longer. When Sir Eustace -finds you have escaped he will lose little time in riding in and -searching this village through and through. Come--I will accompany -you--ye must return to the woods awhile until ye can ride away in -safety." - -"Thank you, good father! But the knight is sick, and I fear 'twill be -bad indeed for him to lie abroad in the woods." - -"The night is dry, and there is no alternative, unless ye wish him to be -dragged back to Ruthènes. Come--demur not, for ye will, I hope, be off -at daybreak. Your horses are safe, for I have had them sent away to a -secret place in the woods, knowing well that were they found at the -inn-house nothing could save them." - -Warmly Edgar thanked the priest for his kindness. - -"Thank me not, Sir Squire. I am always most ready to aid the enemies of -the castle; and besides, I still nourish hopes that ye may throw in your -lot with us. Come, now, let us get away into the woods while there is -time." - -Following the priest's lead, Edgar and Peter bore Sir John back within -the shelter of the woods. A comfortable litter was then constructed from -two of the rugs stretched across young saplings, and the march began -towards the secret place where the horses had been sent. After an -hour's slow travelling the party came to a steep cliff in a spur of the -mountains where a landslip appeared to have hollowed out a shallow cave. -The dying embers of a fire still glowed in the entrance, and as the -party approached, a man sprang to his feet, knife in hand. - -"Peace, brother!" said the priest quietly. "Where hast stabled the -horses?" - -"Yonder," replied the man, pointing to another similar cave a few yards -away. - -"'Tis well," responded the priest. Then turning to Edgar he explained: -"This place is often used as a refuge by the villagers when they fear -interference. It is fairly close at hand, and provides a temporary -shelter for man and beast." - -"It will serve us well until we can obtain a wagon in which to carry Sir -John to Bordeaux," replied Edgar. "If he can be moved, I am most -anxious to start at once. Doubtless thou wilt know someone who has a -horse and cart to lend or sell?" - -"Yes, I can obtain you what you want. But sit ye down by the fire and -sup. Jules here will give us of his store so far as it will go, and -meanwhile I will attend to your sick knight. I have some knowledge of -herbs and simples, and often have to tend the sick in body as well as -the diseased in mind." - -Fresh wood was thrown upon the fire, and by its light the party made -themselves and Sir John comfortable. Barely half an hour had elapsed -since they reached the cave when the man Jules held up a warning finger. - -"Hark!" he said. - -All stopped and listened intently. In the distance, borne clearly on -the still air, could be heard a noise as of shouts and cries. It came -from the direction of the village. - -"My people!" cried the priest in a voice of anguish. "My people again -being harried by the hirelings of the castle! I must go to them. Scant -respect do they give me indeed, but what I can do I must do. Farewell, -young sir!" - -With hasty tread he strode off into the woods, leaving Edgar most -uncomfortable and perplexed, and sorely tempted to follow him. It was -clear that the raid upon the village was due to his escape from the -castle, and the thought that innocent men and women were suffering for -his success was most distressing. The priest, too, in his eagerness to -protect his flock and in his hatred of the tyrants might well be -betrayed into a zeal that would bring down upon him the more active -hostility of the garrison. Edgar shuddered to think what might then -happen. - -For some time the cries continued unabated, and then they gradually died -away until all was still once more. Feeling the tension somewhat -relaxed, Edgar and Peter, after seeing that Sir John was as comfortable -as it was possible to make him, threw themselves down and slept until -daybreak. - -Soon after they had risen and had made a few preparations for breakfast, -the priest strode quickly up. Edgar could see that something was wrong -by his quick irregular tread and by the way in which his hood was drawn -well forward over his face. He came to a pause as he reached the cave, -and after replying with a gesture of the hand to Edgar's salutations, -remained standing for some minutes in silence, as though in deep and -anxious thought. - -"I hope there hath been no bloodshed," said Edgar earnestly, when the -silence of the priest had become almost insupportable. - -"There hath been little actual bloodshed," replied the priest in a -hollow voice; "merely a repetition of the scenes of violence and cruelty -that I have had to witness for years past, but which I was hoping were -gone for good. I am in doubt. I know not whether to raise the banner -of revolt without delay or to wait, as ye counselled, until our forces -have some sort of organization. I now incline to begin the fight at -once, for I fear that the spirit of my people will be broken beyond -redemption if such cruelties are allowed to go on much longer -unchecked." - -Wearily he seated himself on the ground, unconsciously throwing back his -hood and revealing a livid weal which ran across his face from one side -to the other. - -"They have ill-used thee," cried Edgar, with a burst of indignation. -"The cowards have struck thee with their whips--and I am to blame. 'Tis -on my account that they have ridden into the village and done violence -to thy poor folk." - -"My hurt is nothing," replied the priest, contemptuously waving his hand -as though to thrust the idea aside. "'Tis true it is the first time I -have received actual violence at their hands, but I care nothing for -that. But my poor people have not, I fear, my hope in the future, and -upon them the stripes fall with a deadly sting that toucheth me not. -You say you fear 'tis on your account that these things have been done. -Regard it not. Perchance 'tis the spark that setteth alight the fire to -make us free. I would though, Sir Squire, that thou wouldst throw in -thy lot with us, for 'tis a heavy thing for a priest, untutored in the -art of war, to lead the people he loveth to what may be defeat and -destruction. If thou dost feel thy responsibility for the night's -violence--fling thy sword into the balance, and thou wilt have paid back -thy debt in full." - -"My hands are tied," replied Edgar, shaking his head. "My master there -hath first claim upon my services, and until he hath been put in a place -of safety I dare think of naught else." - -"I will see to his welfare in a place of safety," exclaimed the priest. -"Higher up the mountains I know several such places, and, tended by one -or two of our folk, he will mend rapidly and well." - -"Nay, I must take him back to his kinsfolk," replied Edgar decidedly. -"Even then 'tis doubtful whether he will give me permission to ride back -hither to engage in a private war on the side of a people at war with my -countrymen. With all my heart I desire thy success and the deliverance -of thy people, good father, but my duty is elsewhere. Press me not, I -beg, but let me on." - -The priest inclined his head. "Be it so," he said sadly. "Thou art -still a friend though thou canst not, or wilt not, stand shoulder to -shoulder with me in the conflict. Thou shall return as quickly as my -help can compass it. We will not talk more of this matter; but let me -see to thy master. A happy man is he to have won such unswerving -loyalty." - -With a touch as light and gentle as that of a woman, the priest tended -the sick knight. His mind yet wandered, but he seemed to be easier than -when Edgar and Peter had first entered his chamber in the donjon of -Ruthènes. By some subtle means he seemed to know that he was now in -friendly hands, and had grown more restful and contented. - -For two days Edgar remained at the cave watching over Sir John. At the -end of that time the priest pronounced the knight well enough to travel, -and within a few hours a horse and cart were ready waiting in the road -at the point nearest to the mountain refuge. - -Sir John was placed upon the litter, gently carried to the cart, and -there comfortably ensconced on a thick bed of dry leaves covered with a -rug. Then with a most cordial farewell to Father Armand, Edgar mounted -the cart and drove away. Peter rode alongside on one of their chargers, -their second having been left behind as payment for the horse and cart. -After six days' travelling by slow and easy stages they entered the -gates of the city of Bordeaux. - -During the first two days of the return journey, Sir John's mind still -wandered. On the third day, however, to Edgar's great delight, he awoke -with his mind clear and lucid, although he was still very weak and -feeble. He said nothing more than a bare half-dozen words of greeting -all that day, but seemed content to lie there and let his eyes wander -from the lads' faces to cart and tree and sky, as though well satisfied -to be where he was. The following day he showed more animation, and -talked about the villages and scenery through which they passed. He -said no word of Ruthènes, however, and appeared to wish to avoid the -subject as if it were a painful one that he was anxious to put away from -him as long as possible. - -The day before the party reached Bordeaux, on Edgar mentioning that he -hoped they would arrive in time to join the ladies just before they sat -down to their midday meal, Sir John seemed to come to a sudden decision -within himself. Struggling into a half-sitting posture upon his bed of -leaves and rugs, he said in a firm and steady voice: "Edgar, I wish you -now to tell me all--how you came to be at Ruthènes and how I came to be -released. I have some fears that the story will bring me no credit, but -I desire thee to tell me everything." - -Although Edgar did not quite know what Sir John meant by his last -remark, he took no notice, but told the whole story from the time of his -setting out with Peter up to the last desperate dash to safety through -the underground passage. - -When he had finished, Sir John gave so deep a sigh of relief that Edgar -could not help looking at him with some astonishment. - -"Thou art surprised at my relief, lad," observed Sir John, with a faint -smile. "Well, then, thou shalt know how it is my mind feels so relieved -that I could almost shout for joy. Ever since I was able to think -connectedly, I have had at the back of my mind the fear that away there -in Ruthènes I had given way to the tortures and threats of De Maupas and -Eustace de Brin--given way, and passed my knightly word to further their -base schemes at the expense of my successors or of the lady Beatrice. -How else could I account for my freedom save by supposing that I had -played the dastard, and had been handed over to thee in payment of the -debt and to complete the bond? Now ye tell me that I have been rescued -and that my honour is still my own. Canst now understand my relief, -Edgar? 'Tis more difficult for me to understand how thou couldst have -rescued me. It seems marvellous to one who for days tramped frantically -up and down his cell like a caged beast, impotent to find a way of -escape." - -"Talk not nor think of that, Sir John, or thou wilt retard thy recovery. -We, too, felt the dread spell of those fearful dungeons, but we were -two, and could support one another's drooping spirits." - -There was a pause for a few minutes, and then Sir John said suddenly: -"What of the tournament, Edgar? What thought they of me when I appeared -not? Did they think I blenched from the combat?" - -"Nay, nay, Sir John--not one," evasively replied Edgar, who rather -shrank from the recital of his masquerade as Sir John. It seemed so -likely that the knight might resent the liberty, undertaken in his -interest though it had been. - -"He will have gained nothing by the trick," said Sir John, half to -himself, in a despondent tone. "I will see to it that the earl doth know -of his baseness, and I doubt if he will dare again to cross my path. -Better will it be for him to stay at Ruthènes, where he is in safety -among companions as base as himself." - -"I could wish that thou wouldst tell me how they made thee prisoner, Sir -John," said Edgar, anxious to change the subject. "Thou wert wounded, I -know, for when the priest tended thee he found that great gash in thy -thigh." - -"Aye. Nicely was I tricked. I was riding at my ease along a narrow -lane when an old woman stopped me and asked an alms. As I stooped, two -men, with swords drawn, sprang out upon me from the shelter of some -bushes near by. I was quick enough to be ready for their onslaught, but -as I slashed at them, my horse sank suddenly to the ground--hamstrung by -a third man whose approach I had not seen. As I fell, I received a -swordthrust in the thigh, and before I could rise I was seized by so -many hands that all resistance was futile. I was bound hand and foot, -conveyed to a farmer's wagon in waiting close by, and flung -unceremoniously into it. Two men mounted, and we drove on for days, -whither I knew not, until we reached yon gloomy castle. Then came De -Maupas's offer and my refusal. What befell after that thou know'st -better than I, for what with my wound, my rage against De Maupas, and -the dreadful gloom and dampness of my cell, I fell sick and my senses -left me. It all seems like an evil dream. Were it not for my weakness -and this cart, I should look to wake up at Wolsingham or Bordeaux once -again." - -In due course the wagon and its occupants arrived at the inn where the -ladies Gertrude and Beatrice had made their temporary home. Gaily Edgar -hailed the good man, for their troubles seemed to be at an end. Sir -John was back again and, though still weak and feeble, had been rapidly -on the mend ever since he had been taken from the castle. - -"The ladies Chartris and D'Alençon, landlord! Tell them the knight Sir -John is back," cried Edgar, springing down from his seat on the wagon -and aiding Peter to lift Sir John down and carry him into the inn. - -"Ah! sir----" cried the landlord. Then he stopped and stared -uncomfortably from Edgar to Sir John and back again. - -"What is it, man?" cried Sir John, with sudden apprehension. "Doth -aught ail them? Which is it? Speak!" - -"Oh, my lord, 'tis not the lady Gertrude--she is above. 'Tis the lady -Beatrice." - -"Ah! But what has chanced? Canst not speak? Is she dead?" - -"Nay, nay--she is not dead. She hath been carried off by robbers or -outlaws--none knoweth by whom. The lady Gertrude is in despair. We -have done all we could to find where she hath been taken, but without -avail." - -"Woe, woe!" cried the knight, sinking back on the couch on which he had -been placed. "Enemies seem to encompass me and mine. She was placed in -my charge and I have failed in my duty. Why didst leave the ladies all -unguarded, Edgar, to come to my aid? That was not well thought of. I -cannot value my rescue if it hath been obtained at the expense of my -ward's life and honour." - -"I gave the ladies into Matthew's charge, Sir John," replied Edgar -brokenly. "How could I think aught would befall? Reproach me not, I -beg of thee, for I feel I cannot forgive myself--and yet, could I let -thee perish without a blow struck?" - -"Let it pass, Edgar. 'Twas in my despair that I reproached thee. It -was not just. 'Tis Matthew who shall feel the weight of my displeasure. -Landlord, fetch down the lady Gertrude, for we must know all and see if -there be aught that can still be done." - -In a minute or two Gertrude appeared, wild with joy at hearing that her -father had at last returned. "Father, Father, how glad I am that thou -hast come back!" she cried, throwing herself on her knees and winding -her arms about him in joyous rapture. Then, seeing how thin and weak -and ill he looked, her gladness gave place to anxiety and concern. -"Thou must come back with me to England," she said persuasively, "and -let me nurse thee back to health and strength. Thou hast done enough -for a little while. How I wish poor Beatrice were here to welcome thee -and share my gladness!" - -"Tell us of the dreadful event," said Sir John, after the first -greetings were over. "We must consider what is best to be done. Tell -us everything." - -The story was short enough. It appeared that the day after Edgar's -departure, Beatrice, knowing that he could not be back for a week or -more, suddenly determined that she would pay the expected visit to her -castle home at Faucigny. Her maid accompanied her, and, at Gertrude's -desire, she took Matthew and another of the Wolsingham men-at-arms as an -escort, the forward move of the English forces not having yet begun. -Three leagues beyond Bordeaux, whilst passing through a small wood, the -party was suddenly ambushed by four men. - -The man-at-arms was struck down before he could lift a hand in his -defence, and on Matthew fell the whole brunt of the attack. He made a -splendid defence but was eventually overcome and, covered with wounds, -left for dead upon the field. What then happened to the lady Beatrice -and her maid no one knew. Fortunately, Matthew was discovered by -passing peasants a few hours later and was carried to a hovel a mile or -two away. Here he was tended until the arrival of a search party which -had been sent out the instant the riderless horse of the man-at-arms -galloped back into the camp with blood upon saddle and flank. - -As soon as he could speak Matthew was eagerly questioned, but was able -to tell them little. He could not say what had become of the lady -Beatrice. He only knew that one of the ruffians had held her horse by -the bridle whilst the other three occupied themselves in overpowering -all resistance. Of their assailants all he could tell was that he was -certain that he had seen one of them before. This man, too, appeared to -be their leader, and he fancied that he must be a man he had once or -twice seen lurking about the camp. - -At this piece of news Edgar and Peter exchanged glances full of anxious -significance. - -"Did he ever describe the man, Mistress Gertrude?" asked Edgar. - -"Yes. He said he was a tall and sparely built man with an evil-looking -face. Nobody else about the camp, however, seemeth to know the man, and -although we have made enquiries far and wide, we have found no clue save -at a village many miles away to the south-east. Here an old man and a -boy said that, while working in the fields, four men and two women, all -on horseback, rode past them across country, as though purposely -avoiding the roads. That hath been all that we could discover, and it -is little enough, even if the two women with the band were indeed those -we sought." - -"The missing clues I think we can supply, Sir John," said Edgar, "though -I greatly fear they will in no wise lessen our apprehensions." - -"Ye know, then, this man that Matthew had seen before?" - -"Yes, he is a man we believe to be in league with thine enemy, Sir -Gervaise de Maupas." - -"Ah!--that man again!" cried Sir John, starting to his feet in -indignation. His strength, however, was unequal to the effort, and he -sank back again immediately with his hand pressed against his thigh. - -"What is it, Father, what is it?" cried Gertrude anxiously. - -"Only my wound, child. It is far from healed, and I must put no strain -upon it for a while. But go on, Edgar. We must think out what is to be -done. We must act quickly if we are to act at all." - -"I told thee, sir, the offer De Maupas made to me in exchange for thy -life and mine? It was, thou wilt remember, my support in persuading -thee to agree to his marriage with thy ward--her lands being taken in -exchange for his claims to thine. The capture of the lady Beatrice is, -I see clearly, but one more link in the infamous plan. With her safely -in his clutches, he doubtless thought he would be in a still stronger -position to dictate his terms. Moreover, if we consented, he could make -certain that we should never be able to repudiate the promise as having -been made under compulsion, by calling in a priest and having the -ceremony performed offhand. A right deadly plan it hath been, and it -hath all but succeeded--even now it may succeed, for with the lady -Beatrice in his hands he is almost as strong as with us all." - -"Then ye think Beatrice hath been taken to Ruthènes?" said Sir John, -after a long and painful pause. - -"Yes, I am sure of it. She must have arrived there soon after we -escaped." - -"'Tis dire news. How dreadful that place is none of us would like to -admit to any but ourselves! What, then, will it be to a maid? Edgar, -thou didst accomplish the impossible in rescuing me--canst do anything -to rescue the maid? Be sure that they will be doubly on the alert this -time." - -"I am ready and more than ready to try, Sir John." - -"I would send to the earl and implore his aid, did I think it likely -that he would help me. But he hath his hands full and would not care to -send a force into a spot so remote as Ruthènes. No, I fear 'tis on -ourselves alone that we must depend." - -"I will go, Sir John. I will take Peter and fresh horses. Where we -have penetrated once we can penetrate again. Besides, this time we know -the secret way into the castle, and may avoid the untimely capture into -which we blundered so badly last time." - -"Be cautious and not too sanguine. The guards will be doubled, thou -mayst be sure. When canst start? Forgive me for sending thee away so -soon after bringing me into safety, but it is dreadful to me to think of -Beatrice immured in some lonely chamber of yon blood-stained fortalice." - -"I can start at once, Sir John. All I want is a little money, some food -for the journey, and another mount." - -"Thou shalt have all thou canst want. Gertrude, give the lad money from -my own purse. Food and another horse thou canst get, Edgar, as thou art -passing through the camp. Delay not, lad, for I am on fire with -impatience to know that something is being done. I would that I were -strong enough to go." - -"Farewell then, Sir John! I hope that when we return thou wilt be well -and strong again, and ready to join in the earl's advance." - -Edgar hurriedly withdrew, and leaving Peter to dispose of the horse and -cart and to follow as soon as he could, he mounted their one charger and -rode out of the city into the camp to the lines of the Wolsingham -contingent. Calling one of the men-at-arms, he instructed him to saddle -and make ready another of Sir John's chargers and to prepare a store of -food while he occupied himself in selecting his best weapons and a spare -suit of mail. This suit he did not wear, but had it packed up with a few -pieces of mail for Peter in two portions, one of which was to be borne -on either horse. By the time his preparations were complete, Peter had -joined him, and without any further delay the two mounted and rode out -of the camp upon the road to Ruthènes once more. - - - - - *CHAPTER XVI* - - *A New Quest* - - -"Now, dear Father," cried Gertrude, as soon as Edgar had left, "now that -thou art in my charge I must bid thee to bed. All is done that can be -done, and thou canst rest content." - -"All is done for the moment, and I will indeed obey thee, my Gertrude. -But I have yet to make my peace with the earl. I must dispatch a -missive to Sir James d'Arcy, one of the marshals of the tournament. To -him I can explain how 'twas I failed, like a poltroon, to answer to the -challenge of Sir Gervaise de Maupas. When he seeth my condition and -heareth my tale, I have hopes that he will believe me." - -"Hath not Edgar then----?" began Gertrude, opening her eyes in amaze. - -"Hath not Edgar what; maiden? Is anything wrong?" cried Sir John, a -sudden look of apprehension coming into his face. "Surely the earl hath -not made proclamation of my disgrace because of my non-appearance in the -lists? Tell me quickly!" - -"Nay, nay, Father, 'tis far from that. Indeed there is no need to -trouble Sir James or the earl. Thine honour is safe. Edgar should have -told thee all and not left it to me." - -"Gertrude," cried Sir John, with a touch of sternness, "there is some -mystery here. Tell me what it may mean. Delay not, girl." - -Without more ado Gertrude related to her father the events that followed -the first discovery of his disappearance--how, as the hours passed by, -they had grown convinced that De Maupas in some way had had him removed -with the object of disgracing him by his failure to appear in the lists, -and how at last Edgar, to save his honour, had determined to personate -him. - -"What!" interrupted Sir John at this point. "Personate me! But surely -not in the combat in the lists?" - -"Yes, yes, in the lists. 'Twas to save thine honour, and to punish Sir -Gervaise." - -"'Twas a bold thought," murmured Sir John in wonderment. "But how could -he hope for aught but defeat against such a lance as De Maupas? And yet -he seemeth to have come to no great harm." - -"He did not, Father. The first onset was terrific, but neither gained -much advantage, though Sir Gervaise's steed lost its balance and rolled -over. But in the encounter on foot Edgar handled Sir Gervaise most -roughly, and with a single axe-blow felled him senseless to the ground." - -"What! He won?" cried Sir John in utter astonishment. "You tell me he -won? Truly never have I heard the like since the days of the paladins -of old. Ah, it must be to his extraordinary earnestness to learn that -he oweth so great a victory. His hard schooling at Gaspard's and his -constant practice elsewhere--ho! ho! De Maupas was well repaid, and -that right quickly, for his black treachery." - -"None know the truth but ourselves," Gertrude went on. "Everyone -believed that Sir John Chartris left the camp immediately after the -encounter to pay the visit to Faucigny for which he had a few days -before obtained the earl's permission. All is well, Father, and thou -canst take up the threads where they fell when thou wert stolen away." - -"Not so, my child," said Sir John thoughtfully. "I cannot allow laurels -undeserved to be bestowed upon me so freely. I must let the earl know -the truth. Think not that I am the less indebted to Edgar for his -daring and successful championing of my cause. Had De Maupas been -allowed to win his bloodless victory, a dark cloud of disgrace and -suspicion would have gathered about my poor name, and hard to disperse -should I have found it. A few might have believed my tale, but the -greater part would have continued to shake their heads dubiously -whenever my name was mentioned. As it is, I can tell the earl the story -of my capture at the same time that I tell him 'twas not I that appeared -in the lists. All will thus be well. Scarce a soul but will then -believe the tale." - -"Edgar will surely be sorry. He will think thou art flinging away the -fruits of his victory." - -"Nay, he will understand, for 'twould be what he would do himself were -he in my place. Sorrow not for him, for he will be the gainer. The -earl will love the tale, even though 'twill make him pull a wry face to -think how he and they all were fooled. My hopes rise, Gertrude. Urged -on by such daring and energy as this, truly we may well look to Edgar to -bring back our Beatrice. May God speed him!" - -"May God keep him out of the hands of De Maupas!" replied Gertrude -feelingly; and Sir John echoed her words with deepest emphasis. - - * * * * * - -Riding to the limit of the endurance of their horses, Edgar and Peter -made rapid progress, and were soon back again in the neighbourhood of -Ruthènes. This time they did not ride directly into the village, but, -when within a mile or so, led their horses into a thick covert and tied -them to a tree. They then set off on foot for the castle, keeping well -away from the village. - -"Tread silently, Peter, and keep a vigilant watch. I would not that any -saw us, especially of those belonging to the castle." - -As soon as they came within sight of the castle Edgar gave the signal to -stop, and, keeping well out of sight of watchers on the wall, the two -young men reconnoitred it eagerly. - -"There are more sentinels than ever," said Edgar, after a long and -earnest scrutiny. "I feared as much. Well, let us now work round to -the tree which masks the entrance to the underground passage. If that -way is still open to us, all is well." - -"But surely they will have found the keys we left behind in the last -scramble up the steps cut within the tree trunk?" asked Peter. "They -will have locked the doors, and we shall be barred out." - -"Doubtless, but I care not for that so long as there is no watcher -posted at the doors. With patience we can win a way through the -stoutest barriers. But if a sentinel is there, our hope of a silent -entry is gone." - -Presently Edgar stopped and looked about him in some perplexity. "'Twas -near here, was it not, Peter, that the great tree spread its branches? -Nevertheless, I can see nothing of it." - -"Yes, 'twas certainly near here, Master Edgar. Yon clump of -undergrowth--was it not through that we made our way out of sight and -reach of Black Eustace and De Maupas?" - -"I fear they have cut down the tree and carried it away," said Edgar -forebodingly. "Search for the scar in the ground--ah, here 'tis, -carefully covered with leaves and twigs, to show no sign." - -The two young men gazed down at the smooth patch of loose earth in -silent consternation. It was on the continued existence of the secret -passage that they had built most of their hopes, for in all their -discussions they had agreed that it would be almost an impossibility for -them to make their way over the walls and into the castle a second time. -Their first attempt had ended in capture, and it was not likely that a -second, with the garrison on the alert, would be any more successful. - -"They have filled up the passage," cried Peter despondently. "What hope -is there now to find a way into the castle? Would that we had wings!" - -"This is a heavy blow," said Edgar slowly. "I can think of no way in at -present. But we have always one thing to fall back on, so lose not hope -so soon, lad." - -Peter looked up quickly. "Mean you to----" - -"Yes, to throw in our lot with the priest. If we cannot win our way in -by strategy we must fall back on force of arms. But before the die is -cast for an assault upon the castle, let me think if there is no other -means possible." - -For half an hour Edgar paced up and down the tiny glade formed by the -removal of the great tree whose hollow trunk had been so cunningly made -use of by the builders of the castle. From every point of view he -conned over in his mind the defences of the castle, and wrestled with -the problem of circumventing them. But he could think of no way that -offered any real hope of success, save by waiting and watching for some -special opportunity. This, however, was out of the question, for the -thought of the delicate and high-spirited Beatrice d'Alençon confined in -a castle whose gloom had weighed heavily upon the spirits even of men -inured to war and hardship was simply intolerable. - -"Come, Peter," Edgar cried at last in the brisk voice of one who has -made up his mind, "come; I see no way in but by the sword, and while -that castle holdeth Sir Gervaise de Maupas little do I regret it. Let -us now seek Father Armand, and place ourselves by his side." - -Peter gave a suppressed cheer, and followed with an eagerness that -showed that the prospect of an assault upon the castle appealed to him -not one whit less than it did to his master. - -As soon as they had found their horses the two young men mounted and -rode quietly into the village. At the house which served as an inn they -stopped, and, calling the landlord, enquired for Father Armand. - -"He is away from the village," replied the man, eyeing them narrowly. -"What want ye the good father for?" - -"We desire a few words with him," replied Edgar. "It is most important. -Canst not fetch him or take us to him?" - -The man shook his head. - -"Perchance he is at the cave," suggested Edgar quietly. "If so, we will -go ourselves, for he hath told us the way." - -The man's attitude changed at once. "Yes, sir, he is at the cave. I -did not know he had told thee all. I will go with thee and lead thy -horses. It will not be well to leave them in the village--thou know'st -why," he added, again eyeing Edgar narrowly. - -Edgar nodded and accepted the man's offer to accompany them, though he -guessed it was made more with a view to keeping them under observation -than to assisting them. The man's attitude indicated plainly that the -priest had been as good as his word, and that the banner of revolt, if -it had not already been raised, was at least being nailed ready to the -staff. - -At the cave they came upon a scene of animation. Yards of bush had been -cleared away, and in the open space scores of men were at work drilling -or furbishing up their arms. The drilling was of a most crude and -primitive nature, and would have appeared ludicrous to Edgar under other -circumstances. But he was too well aware of the cruelty and oppression -under which these men had groaned for so many years to smile at the poor -figure they cut in a soldier's eyes. - -Moreover, he knew that nothing but the determination born of despair -could have brought them to the pitch of assaulting a strong and -well-garrisoned castle, unequipped as they were with any of the engines -of war. For a moment or two he could not see Father Armand, but -presently he espied him, with hood flung back and gown tucked up, -explaining and demonstrating to some of the more stupid of his levies -what they were expected to do when he gave certain orders. The moment -he saw Edgar and Peter he left his work and ran quickly forward to meet -them. - -"Sir Squire," he cried eagerly, "doth thy return mean that thou -art----?" - -"Yes, yes, Father," cried Edgar, grasping the hands which the priest -extended to him, and pressing them warmly. The sight of the kindly -face, with its lines that told of care and sorrow, stirred him -strangely. How gallant was the old man thus to take up the sword in -what must have seemed almost a forlorn hope to one unused to any sort of -warfare but that of the spirit! "Yes, Father, we have come to throw in -our lot with you. For weal or woe, we are members of your band." - -"Not members--leaders," cried the priest impetuously. "We sadly lack -skill and knowledge, and of these I know ye possess as much as, if not -more than, our ancient enemy. Come, let me tell my people the brave -news. It will cheer their hearts, for, though they have answered to my -call willingly and eagerly, it is more the willingness of men to go to -death rather than remain in soul-destroying bondage than that of men -marching forward with the expectation of victory." - -Calling to the assembled bands, the priest bade them form in two lines -in something approaching military formation. Then he told them the -story of Edgar's and Peter's first coming, and how they had, -single-handed, made entry into the castle and, in spite of capture and -alarums, succeeded in bringing away him whom they had set out to rescue. - -Though Edgar could not follow the whole of the priest's patois, he could -see that the story was well and graphically told, and that it made a -deep impression on the listeners. Then the priest went on to tell of -how he had made request to the two strangers to stop and assist them in -their undertakings, and how, in loyalty to their sick master, they had -reluctantly refused. Finally he told them that they had now returned -and placed themselves at his disposal in their righteous war for -freedom. - -A roar of applause rose as the priest paused for a moment and placed his -hand on Edgar's shoulder. - -"They have knowledge of war, and must lead us," he went on. "This man I -appoint to lead us in the field. He shall be co-equal with me. I shall -command, except when we move forward to battle, when Sir Squire will -take the lead, and I shall fight by his side." - -There was another roar of enthusiastic applause, and the men broke ranks -and crowded eagerly about the newcomers. Seeing that something seemed -to be expected of him, Edgar sprang upon the back of his horse and held -up his hand. The spirit of the priest and his men and their just cause -had so stirred him that he forgot for the moment that he was a simple -esquire with little experience of warfare and small claims to ability to -lead an attack upon a powerful castle. He only knew that he was ready -to do whatever was asked of him--to lead or to follow, he cared not -which, so that he might aid a plucky people struggling to be free. - -In a few words, simple and slow, from his imperfect knowledge of the -local dialect, he told them that victory could never be theirs unless -all were ready to give prompt obedience to their leaders, to work hard, -to fight to the death, and to think, not of plunder, but only of victory -and justice. The speech was well received, and Edgar dropped back to -the ground with the feeling that, though he and his men might be beaten, -it would be from lack of skill rather than from lack of courage and -determination. - -"Shall we move to the attack at once?" cried the priest, his eyes -flashing with eagerness. "Our numbers are almost complete--one hundred -and fifty all told." - -"Nay, good Father, let us hold council of war. Nothing will be lost by -waiting an hour or so." - -"Come, then, let us to the cave and hold council forthwith. Our men are -full of eagerness now, and I would that thou couldst see thy way to an -attack at once." - -Moving to the entrance of the cave the priest, Edgar, and Peter took -counsel together. - -"What food have ye collected to feed this great host of thy people, -Father Armand?" asked Edgar quietly. He could see that the priest was -over-excited, and wished to bring him back to cooler thoughts as well as -to find out exactly how matters lay with his new command. - -"But little, I fear," replied the priest. "We are so poor that food and -money can only be gathered in the smallest quantities. Any man that -hath more than his starving fellows is soon relieved of his surplus by -the arch-robbers of the castle." - -"Men cannot fight well with half-starved bodies," responded Edgar, -shaking his head. "Nevertheless we must do the best we can with the -means at our disposal. How are the enemy off for food? How often do -they receive fresh supplies? I should dearly love to begin the campaign -by capturing the wagons bringing to them their ill-gotten stores." - -"I know not when the next falls due, but always of late they have sent -mounted men-at-arms to escort the wagons to the castle. Several armed -guards, too, accompany their cattle when they are driven forth and back -to pasture every morning." - -"Ha! Where pasture they the cattle?" - -"At a field a short way along the road in the opposite direction to the -village." - -"Those cattle must be captured, Father. 'Twill be a blow to the enemy, -and at the same time provide us with food for our starving levies." - -Many more questions Edgar asked, until he had a full grasp of the -situation and could help to plan for the great attack. Presently from -their discussions a plan emerged and took shape, and when the council of -war broke up a definite course of action, which seemed to give the -priest, at any rate, full satisfaction, had been decided upon. - -The drilling was resumed, this time under Edgar's direction, and arms -were again inspected under the experienced eye of the armourer's -assistant. It soon became generally understood that the morrow was to -witness the opening of the attack, and the men went about their tasks -with a zest and eagerness that had been absent an hour or two before. -With scarce a moment's intermission the preparations continued till -night came and a semblance of peace fell upon the warlike scene. - - - - - *CHAPTER XVII* - - *The Opening of the Attack* - - -"Let every man understand that silence is of far more importance than -speed," said Edgar to the priest the following morning, as the latter -put himself at the head of a body of forty men carrying spades in -addition to their weapons. "If you do your work thoroughly and silently -Peter and I will see that you are not disturbed." - -"The work shall be done, and done well," responded the priest -cheerfully. "See thou, Sir Squire, to thy part. To thee the -conflict--and let it be victory, for defeat at the outset will be hard -indeed to bear." - -"Father," responded Edgar quietly, "I have told thee why I have come -again and why I must enter yon castle. With such responsibility resting -on my shoulders, am I likely to submit to failure while there is a -chance of victory? Can I return to my master alive and unsuccessful?" - -The priest grasped Edgar by the hand and wrung it warmly. "For thee as -well as for me it is victory or the grave," he said simply. Then he -gave the word to his men and the band marched steadily away. - -Peter's band followed next. It numbered only about thirty strong, but -was composed of the younger and more alert-looking men. Lastly came the -largest body, commanded by Edgar. This was clearly composed of the -toughest fighting material among the peasantry, and appeared to be -intended to bear the brunt of any fighting that might ensue. - -While the men were on the move, spies came and reported that the cattle -belonging to the castle had, as usual, been driven to their pasture, -escorted by a body of ten mounted men-at-arms. - -"The guard waxes stronger every day," said the priest meaningly. "They -must, I fear, have an inkling of what is afoot." - -Edgar nodded. "It may only be an inkling," he said. - -The three bodies of men presently arrived at the road which led from the -castle gates through the thick woods for about four hundred yards before -it branched in two, the one track leading to the village and the other -to the fields in which the castle cattle grazed. A few paces from the -point where the roads separated a halt was made, and the priest's -contingent flung down their weapons and grasped their spades. A section -of the roadway was pointed out to them, and, using the utmost caution, -that no sound might penetrate to the castle, the men began to dig with a -suppressed energy which told how much their hearts were in their work. - -Satisfied that they understood the need for silence and could be relied -upon, Edgar dispatched Peter and his band along the road for a hundred -yards or so in the direction of the castle. Their office was to -intercept and capture all who came that way, and, at all costs, to -prevent their return to the castle with news of what was proceeding. - -Edgar then gave the word to his own men and marched them off upon the -road taken by the cattle and their escort. A few hundred yards from the -field in which the animals were pastured he called a halt, and posted -the men in the woods on either side of the track, ready to ambush the -men-at-arms on their return to the castle. - -Free for the moment, he made his way to the edge of the woods -overlooking the field, and stood for some time watching the escort of -men-at-arms. In the ordinary way one of their number would have been set -to watch while the others flung themselves down to rest or to dice away -their time. Instead of that, however, they had gathered together in a -group, and appeared to be eagerly discussing some matter of absorbing -interest. It seemed only too clear that by some means the castle had -gained an inkling of what was going on, and equally clear that the -difficulties and dangers of the peasants' task had been increased -fourfold. - -The morning wore on until the time for the return of the cattle arrived. -They were collected and, preceded by two men, were driven back along the -road by which they had come, the rest of the guard following behind. - -Suddenly and without warning a shrill whistle sounded. A rush of men -from the undergrowth on each side of the road instantly followed. The -men-at-arms forming the escort were not unready, but they were spread -out two deep, and the attackers were among them before they could gather -thickly in defence. A wild and confused struggle ensued. Edgar's own -dash forward brought him into contact with two soldiers, the farther one -of whom instantly snatched a horn from his belt and placed it to his -lips. Guessing that the man was about to signal for assistance, Edgar -charged impetuously, cut down the man nearest to him, and sprang upon -the one sounding the alarm. - -The action, swift as it was, came too late, and for some moments the -note of the horn resounded unchecked high above the din of the conflict. -Without pausing in his attack Edgar listened eagerly for a reply, and in -a few seconds caught the answering note of a horn wound long and full. -The sound came from the direction of the castle, and, as it ceased, in -its place he seemed to hear the deeper note of a loud cheer of -encouragement. - -The encouragement came too late, however, for by that time all -resistance was at an end. Seven of the men-at-arms had been cut down, -and the remainder overwhelmed and forced to surrender. - -"Re-form into rank, men--onward!" cried Edgar, and without waiting to -count the cost of the victory, the band was rapidly marched back the way -it had come, six men being left behind to guard the prisoners and to -take charge of the captured cattle. - -"Hark!" suddenly cried one of the men, raising his hand in the air. - -The harsh, unmistakable rattle of the chains of the castle drawbridge -could plainly be heard, followed in a few seconds by the hollow, distant -beat of horses' hoofs upon the planking, as though a troop of horsemen -was spurring vigorously across. - -"Follow me," cried Edgar, breaking into a run, and at top speed the men -sped down the track towards the place where a few hours before they had -left the band commanded by the priest hard at work. - -Rounding a bend they came in full sight of the spot, but before them the -roadway stretched, to all appearances, as firm and unbroken as ever. -Could their comrades have failed them? Not a soul was in sight until, -in the distance, a strong body of men-at-arms, headed by two knights -clad in full armour, appeared galloping rapidly towards them. At the -sight of the loose body of armed peasantry in front of them the knights -and their following sent up a savage cheer of exultation, and, setting -spurs to their horses, thundered furiously down upon the others. - -At the grim, heart-shaking spectacle, Edgar felt his men involuntarily -check their speed. - -"Rally, men, and charge the tyrants!" he cried loudly, and, echoing his -words, his men recovered their nerve and pressed along after him. - -Rapidly the two forces closed in upon one another until but a few yards -of the roadway separated them. Sir Eustace, who, with De Maupas, headed -the castle garrison, had even levelled his lance full at Edgar's breast, -when all of a sudden the very ground seemed to open beneath his feet! -There was a rending crash as a framework of branches, covered with straw -and earth, concealing a pit dug in the roadway, gave beneath his weight -and sent him crashing headlong into the chasm. De Maupas and many of -the men-at-arms behind, unable to stop their furious advance, fell -headlong after him until the yawning pit was choked with a mass of -struggling men and horses. - -"Charge home!" cried Edgar, and with a wild cheer he and his men sprang -upon the struggling mass and towards the files spurring to their aid. -Another and more desperate combat began. From both sides and the rear -sprang the men of the priest's and Peter's bands, as they issued forth -from their leafy screens and attacked the astounded garrison. - -Edgar's first object was to keep the men-at-arms still in the saddle -from rescuing the two knights struggling in the pit. Desperately he -fought, but the men-at-arms as desperately charged forward, and with all -their weight and impetus swept him and his men violently back. The two -knights, clad in full armour, were little hurt by their heavy fall, and -in a few minutes they were successfully extricated from the struggling -mass and helped upon spare horses. Then with loud cries of -encouragement to one another, the men-at-arms re-formed in a solid body -and began to forge their way slowly and irresistibly back to the castle. - -Time after time Edgar flung himself into their ranks, attended by such -of his men as dared to follow, and strove to break up their formation -and keep them from winning their way back to shelter. But though his -vastly superior swordplay enabled him easily to vanquish individuals, a -surge forward of several men each time flung him roughly backwards, and -at last the survivors of the garrison reached the edge of the wood, and -were able to gallop unchecked across the sward to the castle drawbridge. -The bridge was still down, and the battered remnant filed sullenly and -silently back into the castle courtyard. The gates crashed to behind -them, and with many jolts and jars the drawbridge was drawn up, -interposing the still waters of the moat between them and their exulting -foes. - - - - - *CHAPTER XVIII* - - *The Plight of Beatrice* - - -It was known that the garrison of the castle numbered some fifty men all -told, exclusive of the two knights. In the attack on the cattle guard -ten men had been accounted for, and in the battle about the pit -seventeen had been killed outright or had fallen into the hands of their -enemies. The garrison was thus reduced to less than half its former -strength. Confident that there was now no likelihood of a sally of a -body of mounted men which might prove disastrous on the open ground -about the castle, Edgar re-formed his men and led them in a solid body -out of the woods towards the castle gates. After so decisive a victory -it seemed well to try to overawe the garrison by a demonstration of -strength, in the hope that some of their number might sue for terms. - -Horns were blown, and, after a few minutes' interval, two figures -appeared on the outer walls above the gates. They were Sir Eustace de -Brin and Sir Gervaise de Maupas. - -Sir Eustace appeared almost beside himself with rage and humiliation. -Shaking his mailed fist at the men ranged in rank upon the green sward -below, he shouted furiously: - -"Brood of vipers--who commands?" - -Edgar looked at the priest, who motioned him to reply. - -"Father Armand and I, Edgar Wintour, esquire of Wolsingham, command." - -"And bitterly shall ye rue the day ye lifted hand against Eustace de -Brin. Think ye to overcome me? Think ye I have no friends who will -send hosts of men-at-arms to trample you into the mud whence ye came?" - -"Sir Eustace de Brin," replied Edgar calmly, "think well over thy -situation. No word will we allow to reach the outer world from this -castle, and the men-at-arms of which thou speakest will never come to -thine aid." - -"Ha! Thy cleverness, Sir Squire, is already outmatched. Hours ago a -messenger left this castle to seek aid." - -"He is our prisoner, Sir Eustace." - -"Dog!" cried the knight violently, "I tell thee that my friends will -soon miss my visits and send to enquire the reason. Withdraw from -before this castle, and I will then see how lenient I can be even to -braggart rebels such as ye." - -"The Earl of Derby is advancing into the lands of the King of France, -and all the men-at-arms that can be spared will be sorely needed to -rally to his standard. None of thy friends will think of aught but the -enemy of France in this time of trouble. Thine is a sad plight, Sir -Eustace, and thou wouldst do well to recognize it." - -Gulping down his rage with an effort, the knight replied in a calmer -tone: - -"What meanest thou? What wantest thou? Speak!" - -"We want thy surrender----" - -"What! Darest thou suggest that Eustace de Brin surrender his castle of -Ruthènes to a rabble of rebel vassals? Base and renegade esquire--one -who warrest against those of his own station on behalf of dogs of -rebels--I tell thee thou knowest not our strength nor how far the arm of -chivalry can reach. Withdraw from the ranks of these peasants, or it -will most surely reach thee." - -"Chivalry will ne'er support thee when it knows of thy black crimes, -Eustace de Brin," replied Edgar, altogether unmoved. "It is I who -represent chivalry this day, for, as thou shouldst know, it is the proud -boast of chivalry to take the part of the weak and oppressed. But it is -not of this that I wished to speak. We demand thy surrender and that of -the ladies so basely torn from their friends by the false knight who -stands by thy side. Surrender is the only course that can save the lives -of the soldiers of the garrison, and the only course that will give thee -a chance to plead thy case before thy countrymen. Sir Gervaise de -Maupas, too, will have at least an opportunity of answering a charge of -treachery before the English earl. Persist in thy refusal and thou art -lost, for once the blood of this people thou hast oppressed is inflamed -against thee, neither Father Armand nor I may be able to restrain them." - -"Bah! These walls laugh thee and thy rabble to scorn. Do thy worst, -Master Squire. Here is our first greeting." - -[Illustration: "'BAH! THESE WALLS LAUGH THEE AND THY RABBLE TO -SCORN!'"] - -As he spoke, the knight raised his arm as a signal, and a number of men, -who had evidently been secretly preparing all the time the parley had -been proceeding, crowded to the walls. In their hands they bore stones -and rocks, which they instantly began to rain violently down upon the -men on the ground beneath. - -"Back--out of range," cried Edgar, immediately he saw the men-at-arms -appear, and amid the hurtling missiles the men rushed to the shelter of -the edge of the woods. A reply to the fusillade was not at once -possible, as, like the garrison, scarcely any of the peasants were able -to use the bow with any degree of success. To return the fire with -stones would be wellnigh useless, as the height of the walls would rob -the missiles of all their power and momentum. - -"We cannot assault the castle yet?" said the priest to Edgar -enquiringly. "There must be preparations?" - -"Yes; we can do nothing until we have filled in a portion of the moat. -Didst not tell me once that the moat is a stream dammed back below the -castle?" - -"Yes, that is so." - -"Then I would that a few men be sent to break down the dam at once. -That will aid us famously in our onslaught upon the moat. A half-empty -moat will be a good step forward." - -"It will indeed. I will see to it, Sir Squire." - -"Are any of thy folk skilled in carpentry or woodfelling? If so, let -them get to work cutting down trees and preparing timber without delay, -for I like not that our men should be unable to reply to the showers of -missiles from the walls." - -"What wouldst do then?" - -"I would build mangonels. I saw many in the camp outside Bordeaux, and -had a fancy to see how they were put together. I think we can construct -them with success. They will hurl rocks that will blister the walls -even of yon fortress, and if they fall into the courtyard may do dire -execution." - -"The men shall be found," cried the priest exultingly. "Our cause -advances. I believe that Heaven will give us the victory." - - * * * * * - -So well arranged and so swift had been the capture of Beatrice d'Alençon -that her defenders had been stricken down and all was over before she -had fully grasped that they were attacked. It was not indeed until she -had ridden for some distance with one of her captors on either side that -she realized that she and her maid were prisoners in the hands of -unknown men, who seemed, from the purposeful way in which they rode, to -have a definite and well-planned object in view. To escape was her -first impulse, but a grip of iron fell upon the bridle the instant she -attempted to turn her horse's head. - -"What meaneth this?" she cried out at last in indignation and distress. -"Where are you taking me, and with what purpose?" - -A stolid silence, broken only by the trampling of the steeds, met her -cry. - -More alarmed still, if possible, by the silence of her captors, Beatrice -dragged desperately at her bridle and made her horse plunge violently. - -With a savage word one of the men (it was Baulch) tore the bridle -roughly from her grasp. "Be still!" he cried. "Play me that trick again -and thou shalt ride in front of my saddle. Ha, ha! Perchance that will -suit thee better, maiden?" he added with a leer. - -"Ruffian," cried Beatrice with a shudder of disgust, "ruffian, what -meaneth this shameful assault upon my retainers, and why drag ye me thus -away from all my friends? Answer me." - -"Remain still or not a word wilt thou get," growled the man who had -before spoken. "We are taking thee to a friend of thy guardian. Ha, -ha!--a friend who hath watched over his welfare right carefully of late, -and one, too, who knoweth thee well, and who desireth to know thee -better. Ha, ha, ha!" - -So hateful to Beatrice was the man's coarse laugh and evil look that she -preferred to remain silent rather than provoke another sally. Without -further resistance or attempt to find out whither she was going, she -allowed herself to be led across country for mile after mile. Her maid, -weeping hysterically, rode behind in charge of another of the ruffians, -and even the consolation of closer intercourse was for some time denied -them. - -To Beatrice's surprise, and even more to her utter consternation, the -strange journey went on, not for hours but for days, and it was not -until some five days after her capture that the party reached what she -guessed to be their destination. This was a castle of so grim and gloomy -an appearance that the sight of it made her heart sink with terror and -apprehension. What fate might not be in store for her in a place so -remote and in a prison looking so strong and ruthless? - -"Is this, then, the vile prison-house to which thou hast been leading -me?" she cried to Baulch, as she drew rein in front of the drawbridge -and looked wildly about her for some possible way of escape from her -captors. - -"It is, lady. Lead on," responded Baulch grimly, as he forced her horse -on to the drawbridge and led it across into the castle courtyard. "This -is thy new home. My advice to thee is to make the best of it." - -Dismounting, Beatrice and her maid were led to the door of the central -donjon and up the stone staircase to a chamber almost on a level with -the outer walls. The door was flung open, and they were roughly bidden -to enter. They did so, feeling that it was useless to resist, and -feeling, too, that at any rate matters would now soon come to a head and -end their pitiable state of uncertainty and suspense. Immediately the -door was clanged to and bolted behind them. - -The room in which they found themselves was small and sparsely -furnished, but was not uninviting. The number of rich rugs which -plentifully bestrewed the floors seemed to indicate that at least an -attempt had been made to give an air of something approaching comfort to -a room otherwise plain and bare. This fact might have reassured them -somewhat had it not indicated the far more terrifying fact that they had -been expected. Who he might be, and what his purpose, that had -stretched out so long and powerful an arm as to drag them to this remote -and lonely spot, Beatrice could not even hazard a guess. Nevertheless, -in spite of the mystery and terrifying uncertainty in which she found -herself, she strove to keep a brave heart, as much for the sake of her -maid--to whom she was much attached--as for her own. - -About an hour after their arrival, footsteps were heard approaching the -chamber. They came to a stop at the door, and a moment later a man -entered. - -It was Sir Gervaise de Maupas. - -At the sight of this man, whom she both knew and dreaded, Beatrice -involuntarily sprang up from the couch on which she had been reclining. - -"Thou!" she cried, in a voice in which anger, scorn, and fear all had a -place. - -"Yea, lady, who else should it be?" replied De Maupas in a soft voice, -as he bowed with the utmost gallantry and advanced into the centre of -the room. "Who else would risk his all--name, career, and life--out of -love for thee? None but Sir Gervaise de Maupas, knight of England, I do -venture to assert." - -As he spoke, De Maupas drew himself up with dignity. He was clad in a -richly inlaid suit of armour, over which a splendid cloak had been -carelessly flung. But for the hawk-like and cruel expression of his -thin face, he would have looked a goodly and martial sight enough. - -"Love for me? What dost mean, sir?" cried Beatrice roundly, though for -all her boldness her limbs trembled beneath her. - -"Most assuredly. I have long worshipped thee in secret. It is only my -unhappy enmity with thy guardian that hath prevented me from approaching -thee, and hath forced me to resort to this expedient to enable me to -proffer thee my love. As doubtless thou know'st, I am a knight of good -lineage, and one whose lands, if thy guardian granted my rightful -claims, would be both wide and rich." - -"Thy love hath no attractions for me, Sir Gervaise de Maupas," cried -Beatrice, with difficulty restraining a desire to sink back upon the -couch. "I believe thee to be nothing less than a traitor. What hast done -with Sir John? I believe thee to be at the bottom of his -disappearance." - -For a moment De Maupas appeared startled. But after a moment's pause in -indecision he replied calmly: "I do not wish to deny it, lady. 'Twas -indeed I who arranged his capture. But 'tis said that all is fair in -love and war, and to love for thee and war towards Sir John I must -ascribe the deed." - -"Where is he?" cried Beatrice breathlessly. - -"He is here." - -"In this castle?" - -"In this castle, lady." - -There was a momentary pause. Beatrice's lips trembled so that they -would scarcely frame her words. Then she resolutely mastered her -emotion and asked: - -"How is it named?" - -De Maupas hesitated for a moment. Then he shrugged his shoulders and -went on: "I see no harm in letting thee know. This castle is called -Ruthènes." - -"_Oh!_" - -The tone of the interjection was so singular that De Maupas stared at -Beatrice in astonishment. She had turned slightly aside, and was looking -not at him but at the door. - -"The name seemeth familiar," he said coolly. "Perchance Sir John's -hot-headed esquire, Edgar Wintour, hath mentioned it to thee?" - -As he spoke De Maupas toyed with the sword girded at his side, and, with -a sickening shock, Beatrice recognized the weapon. It was Edgar's! He, -too, must then be a prisoner! - -"I see thou dost recognize the weapon," said De Maupas grimly, as he -noticed with secret satisfaction how the blood had left her face and how -she had to bite her lips to subdue their trembling. - -"Is he then also a prisoner in this castle?" she asked after a pause, -during which she managed to regain a semblance of composure. - -"Yes," replied De Maupas, without a blush. "He and that limping youth of -his are both fast in the dungeons of Ruthènes. I fear they will never -see the light unless----" He stopped and shook his head forebodingly. -Then he walked slowly to the window, and stood gazing out as though lost -in thought. - -Beatrice waited for some minutes for De Maupas to finish, but he seemed -to have forgotten her existence. - -"What dost intend to do with Sir John and his esquire?" she asked -presently in a pleading voice. "Surely thou wouldst not do harm to thine -own countrymen?" - -"That question, lady, is not so much for me as for the owner of this -castle to answer," replied De Maupas with an air of regret. "Hark! He -is at the door; we will enquire his intentions concerning his -prisoners." - -The door opened and Sir Eustace de Brin entered. He was clad from head -to foot in black armour, without any sort of relief or ornament -whatever, and the effect was grim and forbidding to the last degree. If -the two poor captives had needed anything further to destroy their last -hopes, the sight of this grim-visaged, black-bearded, and black-mailed -knight would have supplied it. Indeed, at the sight of him Jeanette -screamed aloud and Beatrice sank down upon the couch and covered her -face with her hands. - -Turning towards the maid, De Brin gave her so fierce a look that she was -reduced to instant silence. Then he turned to De Maupas and asked: - -"Doubtless the lady Beatrice gladly welcometh thy suit, friend De -Maupas?" - -"Not exactly, Sir Eustace. She was, however, asking after Sir John and -his esquire as thou wert entering. She would wish to know what thou -dost intend concerning them." - -"Their fate? Spies and enemies of my beloved France? They must die," -replied De Brin instantly. - -"Would nothing move thee from thy purpose?" asked De Maupas -persuadingly. "If what I desire cometh to pass, their fate will become -of some moment to me. Wouldst then, for our friendship's sake, allow me -to intercede for their lives?" - -De Brin slowly paced the length of the room and back again. - -"Eustace de Brin never turned a deaf ear to the pleading of a friend," -he said in a quieter tone. "For our friendship's sake, then, if thou -dost intercede for their lives' on behalf of thy wife I will listen. If -'tis for aught else I will not move one single hair's breadth from my -purpose." - -"Hearest thou, Beatrice? Wilt thou----?" - -De Maupas stopped and looked enquiringly at his formidable companion. -De Brin had given a sudden start, and appeared to be gazing at the -window with an intent expression on his face. - -Roused by De Maupas's sudden silence, Beatrice lifted her face from her -hands and looked at the two men. Both were listening intently, and she -caught a sound as of the winding of a distant horn. It ceased as though -broken off short, and the two men looked significantly at one another. - -"Didst hear?" said De Maupas laconically. - -"Yes--an attack," growled De Brin, grinding his teeth with fury. "So -much the worse for the attackers. Come--to horse, De Maupas; we have -tarried with this obstinate girl too long already;" and with a dark look -at Beatrice, De Brin hurried from the room, followed closely by his -companion. The moment they were gone Beatrice rushed to the window and -peered eagerly out. The trampling of steeds on the flagstones of the -courtyard, the winding of horns, and the shouting and cheering of the -men-at-arms indicated that the garrison were about to issue forth in -force. Clearly something had occurred to alarm the inmates of the -castle seriously. What could it be? Think as she would, Beatrice could -find no satisfactory answer. - - - - - *CHAPTER XIX* - - *The Assault* - - -"The dam is down!" cried Father Armand excitedly, rejoining Edgar in the -woods opposite the castle gateway as the latter was superintending the -construction of two great mangonels. "The dam is down and the water is -rushing away like a mill sluice." - -"'Tis well," replied Edgar; "in an hour or so the moat will be -half-empty, and we can begin to make ready for the first assault." - -"So soon?" enquired the priest in surprise. - -"Yes, good Father. I am on fire with impatience. While the lady -Beatrice d'Alençon is held in yon fortalice how can I be aught else? -Think not that I shall endanger our cause by my hastiness. The garrison -hath had a rude shock this day, and if we can deliver another before -they have had time to recover, the advantage is all on our side." - -"Say on, then, Sir Squire. Thy counsel hath been good hitherto, and I -am most ready to listen. What is next to be done?" - -"Set all the men but those at the mangonels to work cutting great -bundles of undergrowth. Let the women and children also help, and let -the faggots be cut at some little distance, so that the thickness of the -woods here, which is our protection against a sortie, be not destroyed. -The bundles of undergrowth we must use to fill up the moat and give us a -foothold for the assault upon the gates and walls." - -"Yes, yes; I thought that would be the next move." - -"Then I want thee to strip a wagon of its strongest pair of wheels. -Leave them on the axle. Then fell a tall young tree, with trunk about -the thickness of a man's thigh. Lop off all its branches and cap the -end with iron. Then lay it across the axle and lash it there. Running -easily on its wheels, and thrust by a score of men, the tree will make a -battering-ram that will, I promise thee, reduce the drawbridge and gates -of Castle Ruthènes to splinters within the space of a few minutes." - -"Ha! but will not the wheels of thy ram sink into the filled-in moat and -there stick fast?" - -"Nay; make the ram so long that ere the wheels shall reach the edge of -the moat the battering end will reach drawbridge and gates. I tell -thee, good Father, we shall get to grips beneath yon frowning gateway -before many hours are past. Have thy men the spirit for a conflict, -stark and grim, waged with trained men in a narrow space where numbers -are of little avail?" - -"I will answer for them, Sir Squire," replied the priest quickly. "They -have no training, but they have desperation, and that will carry them -on." - -"Aye, I think so too. And now let us to work, and make ready as quickly -as we can." - -All the remainder of the day the preparation for the assault upon the -castle went on with untiring energy. In the depths of the woods the -women and children of the village and district laboured at a work to -which they were well accustomed, cutting down young saplings and -undergrowth and carrying them to a point in the roadway near the castle -gates, where men bound them firmly into great bundles. - -Close by, a few yards from either side of the roadway, at the very edge -of the wood, and masked only by a thin screen of bushes, men were hard -at work constructing mangonels under Edgar's supervision. At another -point a gang of men were making ready the great ram on wheels which was -expected to do such execution, and at still another a number were -constructing ladders which were intended to be placed against the walls -to draw off some of the garrison from the fight about the gates. Even -after nightfall the work was continued, and none thought of rest until -the preparations were complete. - -The first streaks of dawn had scarcely appeared in the sky before the -men were aroused from their slumbers and marshalled for the beginning of -the assault. Eagerly they answered to the call. The first fight had -been won, and every man was impatient to begin the main and final attack -upon the stronghold which harboured the last of their lifelong foes. - -Suddenly, at a signal from Edgar, streams of men bearing huge bundles of -faggots issued from the woods at a point nearest the castle gateway, and -advanced rapidly towards the moat. Loud cries of alarm sounded from the -walls, followed by a hurried call to arms. Undeterred by these signs of -resistance, the lines of men hastened to the half-empty moat, flung -their burdens in, and sped rapidly back for more. In a moment or two -the walls were lined with men-at-arms, and missiles began to whistle -through the air downwards upon the scurrying men below. But the bundles -of undergrowth held up in front were a full protection to the men, and -it was only when returning that the missiles could take effect. -Naturally, however, the return journey was made at top speed by the -unencumbered men, and comparatively few were hit, and these for the most -part were but slightly injured. - -Scarcely had the garrison had time to warm to their work before, to -their utter astonishment, a loud whirring noise was heard, and a great -rock came singing upwards with a momentum that sent it over walls and -donjon into the woods on the other side of the castle. Ere they had -recovered from their amazement another rock, better aimed, swept a man -bodily off the walls and plunged heavily against the upper part of the -keep. - -In sudden consternation, not knowing how many engines there might be -casting the great stones, the garrison fled under cover, and left their -opponents free to do their work as they listed. Finding, however, that -there were only two engines, the men-at-arms presently ventured back and -resumed their task. Forced to take refuge ever and anon from the great -stones cast upwards, their own missiles lost much of their power, and -the work of the attackers went on wellnigh unchecked. - -After little more than an hour's work the moat, for a hundred yards on -either side of the gates, was filled and piled up to a height of three -or four feet. - -To allow the garrison breathing space was no part of Edgar's policy, and -with scarce a pause he ordered his men to get ready for the assault. He -and Peter had donned full armour, as it had been arranged that they -should lead the attack upon the gateway as soon as bridge and gates were -down. The priest was to direct the attack upon the walls, and try to -call off as many of the garrison as possible from the deadlier conflict -beneath the gateway. - -The battering-ram was wheeled out, and twenty of the strongest peasants, -covered by a line of men on either side bearing big wooden shields, -advanced, cheering loudly, to the attack. - -Again there was a shout of alarm from the garrison at the sight of this -new danger, and after a few minutes' commotion the master of the castle, -Sir Eustace, appeared on the walls above the gate. He was clad in full -armour, and, recklessly exposing himself to the fire of the mangonels, -strove to encourage his retainers by himself taking the lead in hurling -great stones at the bearers of the ram. His example was followed, and -with shouts of encouragement to one another the defenders crowded to the -ramparts and recommenced the fusillade with the greatest energy. A -perfect rain of stones and rocks descended upon the men driving the ram, -and for a moment the advance was checked. - -"Hang not back, men," cried Edgar with energy. "Press forward the more -quickly and our task will be the sooner ended. Forward!" - -With a shout the line of men bent to their work, and the great tree -rolled forward with terrific weight and momentum. The ram was well -aimed, and with a mighty crash struck the raised drawbridge full in the -centre and split it from top to bottom. - -"Back a dozen yards and then press to the attack again," cried Edgar, -and the tree, moving with comparative ease upon the big wheels, swung -back and was urged forward once more. Again the ram struck the -drawbridge, widening the cracks and bending its timbers back towards the -great gates behind. Six times the ram was swung before the last remnants -of the bridge gave way before its onslaught, leaving naught but a pile -of splintered boards and a few pieces of woodwork dangling from the -chains on either side of the gateway. - -The attack had not been without its penalties. Eight men had fallen -crushed and bruised beneath the stones flung with such furious energy by -the defenders. Their places had been instantly taken by fresh men, for -the blood of the peasants was now up, and none recked of the danger so -long as the attack went on unchecked. - -"Now for the gates, men!" cried Edgar cheerily, as they prepared to -swing forward for the seventh time. The fusillade from the walls had -now slackened, for the imminence of an attack upon the gates had -compelled the defenders to withdraw half the men from the ramparts and -to station them in the courtyard ready for the moment when the gates had -been battered down. No one, not even the defenders, believed that the -gates were capable of withstanding the onslaughts of the deadly weapon -devised by the attackers. - -Missing the grim figure of De Brin from the walls, Edgar hoped, with no -little satisfaction, that they would soon meet hand to hand beneath the -gateway. So far all had gone as he had anticipated. Every surprise had -been sprung by the attackers, but, to his sorrow, he had yet to find -that the defenders had one or two things left to them that he had not -taken full account of. So uniform had been his success thus far that it -seemed that but one more effort need be made, and the castle would be -won. - -Four times, with four tremendous crashes, the ram was swung against the -iron-plated gates, and still they held. The fifth time they gave, and -fell inwards so suddenly and completely that the ram rolled forward -almost unchecked until the wheels sank to the axles in the mud and -brushwood of the filled-in moat. - -Loudly the horns were wound, and every man of the peasants' force rushed -to do his appointed work. The men commanded by Father Armand advanced -in little clusters from a dozen points and planted great ladders in -position against the walls. Led by the priest in person, they began to -mount with every sign of determination. Again the move was evidently -unexpected by the garrison, for the few men now left upon the walls -shouted loudly to their comrades for aid. A number answered to the -call, and set about repelling the attack with the utmost desperation. -Some essayed to lever out with their halberds the ladders weighted with -their loads of climbing men, and strove to cast them bodily backwards. -Others occupied themselves in casting down great stones in the hope of -smashing the ladders or sweeping their occupants downwards to -destruction. - -The ladder by which the priest was himself mounting was one of the first -singled out for attention. Ere he had reached the top and could lift a -hand to interfere, two men who had been savagely thrusting at it with -all their might succeeded in lifting it outward a couple of feet. Unable -to thrust it farther, they gave it a savage side jerk and let go. Down -it fell with a crash, bringing with it another ladder just reared a yard -or two away. - -Fortunately most of the men fell upon the brushwood, and were more -shaken than hurt. The priest himself, nothing daunted, again sprang to -the attack with a fresh ladder, and with varying fortunes the fight went -on. Once or twice a footing was gained upon the walls, but every time a -combined rush by the defenders flung the attackers backwards before the -footing could be made good. - -Beneath the gateway the conflict was even more fierce and deadly. The -instant the gates were down Edgar and Peter had sprung forward, followed -by the best and strongest fighters among the peasantry. They were met -by the most heavily armed of the men-at-arms among the garrison, and -were opposed with fierce determination. The defenders knew only too -well how their merciless cruelties had inflamed the countryside against -them, and feared that if the castle were won their own chances of mercy -were slight indeed. Thus they bent to their work with the fierce -stubbornness born of despair. - -Of De Maupas or De Brin Edgar could catch no glimpse, and though he -called their names aloud as he fought, and challenged them to meet him -hand to hand, there was no response. Concluding at last that they must -be directing operations from the walls, our hero devoted all his -energies to overcoming the resistance of the defenders at the gate and -winning a way through to the courtyard. Once a footing could be obtained -inside, the continued defence of the walls would be useless. - -Inch by inch, foot by foot, Edgar and his band fought their way onward. -Most of the execution was done by his own and Peter's sword, for the -peasantry had neither the skill nor the weapons to oppose the -men-at-arms with much success in a hand-to-hand combat. The front of -the fighting beneath the gates was a narrow one, and the peasants could -fight only man to man, and were unable to bring their superior numbers -into play. In spite of this disadvantage, however, the defenders were -driven back slowly and surely, until Edgar felt that the moment for the -final effort had come. - -"On, on! Strike home!" he cried loudly, and at the call his men gave a -surge forward that gained a couple of yards and brought them almost -through the gateway into the courtyard. - -Suddenly a shrill whistle sounded, and, as though by a prearranged -signal, the defenders disengaged themselves from the conflict and fled -at the top of their speed down the courtyard and round an angle of the -donjon. - -With loud shouts of exultation, the peasants surged unchecked through -the gateway and began to advance along the courtyard in pursuit of their -beaten foes. Scarcely, however, had they taken a dozen steps when there -came a terrible interruption. From the roof of the keep fell showers of -molten lead! In streams and showers, burning, blinding, and scorching, -the fearful liquid fell, and the shouts of joy were turned into screams -of dreadful agony. With one thought but to escape the fearful hail, the -men who had won their way with such dauntless courage into the courtyard -turned and flung themselves madly back into the gateway, struggling and -fighting with those still pouring in. Their flight was assisted by more -showers of the metal, flung in burning streams upon those massed in the -gateway, until, with one accord, the victorious body of peasantry turned -tail in utter panic and fled headlong back across the moat to the cover -of the woods. - -At this moment the thunder of horses' hoofs was heard, and round the -angle of the courtyard swept a body of armour-clad horsemen. Eustace de -Brin, De Maupas, and wellnigh a dozen men-at-arms clad in full armour, -in a line stretching from wall to wall, bore down upon the already -fleeing men like a living wall of steel. Edgar and Peter alone, -shoulder to shoulder, stood fast--not because their courage was more -unquenchable than that of their followers, but because their mail had -enabled them to endure the burning showers better. The charge of the -horsemen swept them headlong against the walls of the keep. - -Peter received a stunning blow upon the helmet, and, dizzy and sick, was -forced to cling to the wall to save himself from falling. Wielding a -battleaxe he had snatched from a stricken man-at-arms, Edgar beat off -those who assailed him, and the horsemen, unable to stop their impetuous -charge, swept heavily onwards past him. Some thundered through the -gateway hot upon the track of the fleeing peasants, whilst others, after -careering a dozen yards along the courtyard, checked their steeds and -prepared to charge back again upon the only two of their enemies yet -remaining on their feet within the four walls of the castle. - -To Edgar all seemed lost. The peasants were in hopeless flight, and the -way to safety through the castle gates was barred by the horsemen -already spurring through. De Maupas was one of the horsemen who had -refrained from following up the fleeing peasantry, and seeing the -hopeless plight of the young esquire, he gave a cry of savage joy and -shouted to his companions to spur down upon him and beat him into the -dust. - -To rush for the gateway, and to strive to escape that way, meant being -caught in the rear by the charging horsemen. This was obvious, and, -with the speed of thought, Edgar seized upon another opening so bold and -desperate that it appeared the counsel of sheer despair. - -"Quick, Peter!" he cried in sentences short and sharp, like the jab of a -sword. "To the donjon--we must take refuge there! Rouse thyself, or we -are sped!" - -Shaking off his dizziness as best he could, Peter tottered towards the -open door of the keep a yard or two away. It was guarded by two -men-at-arms, but Edgar had already attacked them with the energy born of -despair and of the ruin of all his plans. Swinging his axe with a -strength that crushed down all his opposition, he clove his way through -the doorway, seized the great iron-plated door, and, as Peter sprang -through, flung it violently to behind him. - -"A hand here, Peter, if thou canst!" he cried rapidly, indicating a -number of great blocks of stone piled against the wall to halfway up the -stairs. Dropping his axe and seizing one with both hands, he swung it -against the door. Another and another followed, until in a few seconds -the strength of the door was doubled and trebled by the weight of a -solid mass of great stones piled behind. - -Peter was now almost himself again, and seeing that entry by the main -gateway was effectually barred for a time, cried excitedly: - -"But what of the door from the courtyard to the dungeons, Master Edgar? -Will they not enter there? If 'tis only to sell our lives dearly that -thou hast fought thy way in here, let us climb upwards and defend -ourselves upon the summit of the keep." - -"'Tis not that alone, Peter, that made me dash in hither instead of -meeting De Maupas and settling our account once and for all. 'Tis more -because I saw a glimmer of hope, remote but clear. As for the other -door, 'twill be fast locked, and what jailer would carry his keys to the -battle? Nay, we have a few minutes' respite--let us use it well. -Upward, Peter, upward! 'Tis the lady Beatrice we must next seek and -succour if we can." - -So saying, Edgar took the lead and sprang quickly up the stairs. He -knew where to look, for while in the very midst of the mêlée raging -about the outer gates he had caught a glimpse of a hand, small and -white, stretched out in mute appeal from a little window high up in the -walls of the mighty donjon. - - - - - *CHAPTER XX* - - *The Last Hope* - - -"Hark!" cried Beatrice, springing from the couch on which she had passed -her second night at Ruthènes. "Hark, Jeannette, the call to arms is -once more sounding! Dawn is breaking, and some deadly conflict is, I -feel sure, about to begin outside." - -From all sides indeed the blare of trumpets and the shouts of the -men-at-arms, as they roused themselves from their slumbers and hastened -excitedly to obey the call, resounded through the air. To one -accustomed to the routine of castles it was clear that something of -tremendous moment was happening, and hurrying to the little window of -their chamber, Beatrice strove to catch a glimpse of what was afoot. - -The thickness of the walls, however, was so great that, strain as she -would, she could see no more than a few feet of the courtyard about the -gates, and here, save for a few men-at-arms passing to and fro, nothing -unusual was going on. Upward upon the outer walls, however, men were -clustering more thickly, and in a moment or two they began to busy -themselves in hurling down stones upon some enemy beyond. It was -evident that the castle was attacked. But De Maupas had said that Edgar -Wintour was a captive: who, then, could be the enemy? Suddenly there -was a tremendous thud against the walls a few yards above her head, and -splinters of stone flew in all directions. - -"Oh, the castle is being battered down!" cried Jeannette in alarm. - -"Yes; that must have been a great stone cast by a mangonel or catapult, -Jeannette. 'Twill go hard with us if one strikes here. 'Tis fortunate -our window is not above the level of the outer walls." - -"Hist, mistress--someone is at the door!" - -It was true someone was at the door--someone, too, who appeared on -secrecy bent, for the approach had been made without a sound and the key -was being turned with the greatest caution. At last the door swung open -and De Maupas entered. - -He appeared to be labouring under great excitement, for his bearing was -nervous and his looks were disordered. - -"Maiden," he cried, speaking rapidly, "I must have thine answer to my -proposal. Wilt thou become my bride and save the lives of Sir John and -his esquire? Choose quickly, for we are attacked by a cruel and -infuriated peasantry, who will spare neither age nor sex. At any moment -they may break through our defences, for the castle is but half-manned -and the peasants are fighting like men possessed. If thou wilt consent -I am able to convey you all to safety outside the castle by a secret -way. Decide quickly, or it will be too late. - -"But wouldst desert thy friend?" cried Beatrice with cool disdain. -"Perchance this is some new ruse to obtain my consent to a proposal I -abhor. This castle is strong--why shouldst thou be so anxious to leave -it?" - -"Lady, 'tis no ruse. Your peril is great, for as I have said, though -the castle is strong the garrison is weak. More than half our men did -we lose in a skirmish outside the walls but yesterday. - -"This is brave news thou art telling me, Sir Gervaise," cried Beatrice, -whose serene bearing was in such contrast to the agitation of De Maupas -that their situations appeared to have been reversed. "These peasants -will not make war upon the tyrant's prisoners. They will accept as -friends the victims of their oppressor." - -"Think not so, lady," cried De Maupas vehemently. "Thou know'st not -this rabble. They hate those of gentle blood with so deadly a hatred -that all inside these walls who are not of themselves they will destroy. -Sir John and Edgar Wintour will perish beneath the burning ruins, if -they have not been dragged out of their cells and slain before the work -of the torch begins." - -For a moment Beatrice covered her face with her hands, as though the -thought appalled her. Then she answered bravely: - -"I prefer the mercies of the revolted peasantry to thine, Sir Gervaise. -As for Sir John and his esquire, I refuse to believe that the rage of -the peasants will extend even to the poor creatures buried alive in the -castle dungeons. Besides----" - -Beatrice stopped suddenly, for loud insistent shouts for De Maupas rang -within the donjon and outside in the castle courtyard. - -"'Tis De Brin calling me," cried De Maupas savagely, as he rushed -hastily to the door. "Think not that thou wilt escape me," he added -vengefully over his shoulder as he left the chamber. "If the worst comes -to the worst I will bear thee hence by force." - -A cry from Jeannette, who had gone to the window while her mistress had -been parleying with De Maupas, brought back Beatrice's attention to the -conflict being waged outside. - -"The gates are down, Mistress Beatrice!" the maid cried in a voice -shrill with excitement. "See, the defenders are gathering thickly in -the breach." - -Beatrice craned her neck to see, just in time to catch the first glimpse -of the great rush of the peasantry which followed closely upon the -battering-in of the gates. A confused medley of fiercely-fighting men -was all she could make out for some minutes, but presently, as the -defenders were driven back inch by inch towards the courtyard, two -figures began to stand out from the press, and she recognized with a -thrill of astonishment and joy--Edgar Wintour and his servant, Peter! -De Maupas had lied--and they were alive and free! Then might not Sir -John also----? - -The fight at the gates was growing in intensity, and all her thoughts -became concentrated on the exciting scene. Would they win a way -through? Beatrice was a knight's daughter and could gauge a warrior's -powers at a glance. She could see that the real strength of the attack -lay in Edgar and Peter alone, and that the ill-armed peasantry, brave -though they were, could make little impression on the mail-clad and -well-disciplined men-at-arms. - -Nevertheless she felt, with a certainty that surprised her, that victory -would at last reward the attackers and that the castle would be won. -She seemed to feel that one who could play such a part as Edgar Wintour -in the lists of Bordeaux was not born to be defeated here. But -see!--the attackers were gathering for a last leap forward--Edgar had -raised his battle cry--Hurrah! the defenders were fleeing headlong down -the courtyard, and the castle was won---- - -Ere Beatrice could cry aloud in the joy of victory, a sudden fearful -change swept over the scene. From the roof of the donjon, somewhere -above her head, a burning hail of molten lead swept down, and the cries -of victory were quenched and smothered in a louder burst of screams and -wails. So dreadful were the anguished cries of many of the poor -creatures, scorched and withered by the burning blast, that Beatrice, -completely unnerved, cowered down upon the floor and wept. - -Jeannette replaced her at the lattice and, with many ejaculations of -disappointment, told of the charge of the armour-clad horsemen and the -defeat and destruction of the broken remnants of the gallant peasants. -Of Edgar and Peter she could see nothing. Knowing how loath they would -be to flee, Beatrice felt, with a crushing sense of sorrow and -disappointment, that even if they had escaped the showers of molten lead -they must of a certainty have been overwhelmed and slain by the charging -horsemen. - -She was aroused from her prostration by another cry from Jeannette, who -had turned from the window and was hearkening, not to the clangour -outside, but to a noise that had attracted her attention within the -donjon. - -"It must be De Maupas," she cried excitedly. "I hear -footsteps--doubtless it is De Maupas returning to press his suit now -that the peasants are destroyed?" - -Beatrice jumped quickly to her feet. Her prostration had vanished, and -she faced the door with her eyes flashing and her little hands clenched. -Jeannette could see that something had roused her beyond measure. - -"Let not De Maupas approach me after slaying my poor friends!" she -cried, stamping her foot with anger. "Refuse him admittance--tell him I -abhor him and will not see him." - -Jeannette fled to do her bidding. As she reached the door, however, it -suddenly opened and a man strode hastily in, brushing aside the hand -which the maid put out to detain him. It was Edgar Wintour. - -At the sight of him Beatrice gave a gasp and looked as though she were -about to fall. Edgar darted instantly to her side and took her gently -by the arms. "Come, Beatrice," he cried, with breathless rapidity. -"Our cause is lost, but if thou wilt trust thyself to me I will strive -yet to save thee. The hope is indeed faint, but at the worst if I fail -they can but compel me to surrender thee again." - - - *[Illustration: "'COME, BEATRICE, I WILL STRIVE YET TO SAVE THEE.'" - (missing from book)* - - -"I would come," replied Beatrice vehemently, "though there had been no -hope. But how canst dream of escape when the courtyard is held by the -enemy?" - -"Because a few days since a secret way led from out this donjon beneath -courtyard and moat into the shelter of the woods. If 'tis not destroyed -we may yet escape thence." - -"It is not destroyed," cried Beatrice triumphantly. "'Tis but an hour -since De Maupas besought me to let him bear me to safety through it." - -"Then we shall yet escape," cried Edgar joyously. "Come--no more delay, -for even now Black Eustace and his men are thundering at the gate. -Onward, Peter--bring Jeannette, for we must be gone." - -He sprang to the door and, taking Beatrice by the hand, hurried her -along the passages towards the stone staircase by which he had escaped -with Sir John but a few days before. As they passed the main stairway -leading to the gate, the sound of axe and hammer strokes reverberating -upwards made him pause. - -"The door is giving way," he cried anxiously. "I fear they will be -hotfoot upon our track in a few moments." Raising his voice he bade -Peter hasten and hurried his companion on downwards to the vaults below. -Scarcely had they reached them when there was a sudden crash from above, -followed by a roar of savage cheers. - -At the dread sound, Jeannette gave a scream of terror and almost -collapsed. - -"Hush!" cried Edgar sharply. "Dost wish to bring them upon us? Be -silent as the tomb, or we are lost." - -In another moment they reached the level of the dungeons and were within -sight of the flight of steps leading downwards to the door of the -underground passage. Most anxiously Edgar gazed before him into the -gloom. It might well be that a guard had been posted. - -No sign of a guard was to be seen, but a barricade of some sort appeared -to have been erected at the head of the stairs. Could it be that the -way was blocked after all? Running quickly to the spot, Edgar saw that -what he had taken to be a barricade was a pile of great blocks of stone, -similar to those heaped about the staircase, no doubt placed ready to -fling down and block the way of an enemy advancing through the -underground passage. The steps themselves were clear, and with a deep -sigh of relief Edgar turned to his companions and once more bade them -hasten. - -There was of a truth no time to lose. The cheers from above had died -away, but the more ominous rattle and clank of armed and mail-clad men -advancing down the winding staircase was to be heard in its place. It -was clear that De Brin or De Maupas had guessed that Edgar's object in -taking refuge in the keep had been to escape by the underground passage, -and that they were seeking him first in that direction. A bare -half-minute would see them upon the scene. - -"Canst not hew down the door?" cried Peter, as Edgar hesitated for a -moment. - -"Take my axe and give me thy sword," replied Edgar curtly. "Do thou hew -it down while I defend the passage against our pursuers. Thou shalt -save time. On, Peter, on!" - -Peter seized the axe, sprang down the steps, and without an instant's -pause attacked the door. After the first blow he gave a startled -exclamation. - -"What is it?" cried Edgar, turning as he was about to advance towards -the enemy now almost at the foot of the stone stairway. - -"The door is open!" cried Peter in an awed tone. "I fear a trap!" - -"Either 'tis a trap or there is a sentinel stationed at the farther -end," cried Edgar. "But we cannot now draw back. Onward, lad, and win -a way through. Maidens, I beseech ye heed not the darkness but descend -and follow closely upon Peter." - -Peter moved onwards into the gloomy cavern, followed by the shrinking -maidens, while Edgar stayed where he was, leaning quietly against the -blocks of stone. For all his easy posture, the half darkness of the -underground passage hid a face grown pale and anxious, for the peril in -which the party now stood was extreme. It was not the advance of the -body of men, who, carrying torches and headed by Sir Eustace de Brin in -person, were now bearing rapidly down upon him, that filled him with -anxiety. These he was prepared to oppose with the utmost desperation. -It was the thought that sentinels might be posted at the farther end of -the tunnel, and that Peter might be unable to cleave a way to freedom -with his charges, that made his heart sink with a sickening feeling of -dread. - - - - - *CHAPTER XXI* - - *Through the Darkness* - - -Meanwhile events were moving with equal rapidity above-ground. The -charge of Sir Eustace and his men-at-arms across the filled-in moat had -completely dispersed the last of the peasants still remaining in the -open. The priest had done his best to rally his men and to resist the -horsemen, but his followers were infected by the panic which had seized -upon those who had been engaged in storming the gates, and would not -stand. He himself was wounded and must have been slain had not several -of the more courageous of his band seized him and dragged him into the -woods by force. - -Once in the thickets the peasants were safe, and, realizing the folly of -pursuing them with so small a force as he had at his disposal, De Brin -contented himself with leading his men against the peasants still -working at the mangonels. These fled hastily at his approach, and his -men promptly proceeded to heap faggots around the machines. A light was -procured, and, amid the cheers of the men-at-arms, the flames shot up -until the engines were in the midst of a huge bonfire. - -At this moment De Maupas spurred rapidly from out the castle and sought -De Brin. His vizor was raised, and on his face was a look of savage -joy. "Ho, there, Eustace!" he cried. "Their leader, this Edgar Wintour, -hath taken refuge in the donjon. Doubtless he hopeth to escape through -the underground passage. Quick, close this end, and he will be snugly -trapped!" - -"Ha, ha!" laughed De Brin. "If 'tis so, then he hath saved us much -trouble, and mayhap provided us with some rare sport. Do thou, De -Maupas, remain here, and see that he receiveth a warm reception if he -seeketh to emerge this end. I, for my part, will see that his hot blood -runs chilly in his veins before we have done with him. Ha, ha! But -first we must seal him up completely within the cavern." - -With a look of cruel anticipation upon his face that might of itself -have chilled Edgar's blood had he been there to see it, Black Eustace -spurred back through the gates and took charge of the men already -engaged in hewing down the door of the donjon. As soon as the door -showed signs of weakening, he drew aside two of the men and sent them on -an errand that took them outside the walls. - -Here the men looked about them for some moments before seizing upon one -of the big ladders constructed by the peasants. The uprights were thick -and strong, and one of these was knocked away from the crosspieces and -the end carefully pointed. For what purpose these preparations were made -was not apparent, but, from the haste with which the men completed their -work, it seemed that they had at least some connection with the plight -of the two fugitives in the castle donjon. - -De Maupas had for some moments gazed thoughtfully around him before he -set about his part of the task of destroying the fugitives. His eyes -fell upon the great bonfire which now marked the spot whence the -mangonels had discharged their deadly missiles, and with a grim smile he -directed the men about him to pick up some of the big bundles of -brushwood that had been left over when the filling-in of the moat had -been accomplished. Then he led the way to the tiny glade where the tree -with the hollow trunk had stood when Edgar had escaped with Sir John a -short time before. Pointing to a certain spot in the ground, he -directed his men to fling down their bundles and scoop away the earth. -A large flagstone was soon disclosed, and on its being lifted a black -pit, down which led a flight of steep stone steps, yawned before them. -Kneeling, De Maupas called: - -"Bruyard! Ho, there! Bruyard!" - -After a moment's pause, a muffled voice replied: - -"Who calleth?" - -"De Maupas. Come hither!" - -The noise of the opening and shutting of a door next ascended to the -ears of the men above, and presently a man-at-arms appeared. He climbed -the steep steps in leisurely fashion, and then stood blinking in the -sunlight. - -"What is it ye want, Sir Knight?" he asked surlily. - -"Hast locked the door?" asked De Maupas impatiently. - -"Nay, I have not. What need, if the enemy is driven off?" - -"No matter," replied De Maupas shortly. "Come, men, pile your faggots -about these steps, and hasten back for more. We will make a merry -blaze, for I expect visitors from yon dismal depths. Pile the faggots -high, and let us see if they will escape by the secret way a second -time." - -With a roar of savage enjoyment the men hastened to obey. They now saw -the object of the move, and with many a joke to one another they hauled -great bundles of wood to the fatal spot with every sign of gusto. - -A brand was brought from the blazing mangonels, and the pile ignited. -It blazed up and burned fiercely. Heavier and thicker pieces of wood -were then flung on until the exit from the tunnel was ringed about with -a veritable wall of fire. Satisfied that any man who attempted to -plunge through such a furnace must perish miserably, De Maupas strolled -up and down, awaiting with some impatience the news that the fugitives -had indeed taken refuge in the tunnel, and that De Brin had succeeded in -sealing up the castle end. - -As he paced the greensward he noticed the two men who had been sent upon -an errand by De Brin. They were just then busily engaged in sharpening -the end of a long thick pole which they had obtained. - -"What is this?" asked De Maupas. "Who set ye on to this, and for what -purpose?" - -"De Brin," replied one of the men laconically, giving his thumb a jerk -in the direction of the castle gates. Then he indicated the moat, and -ejaculated: "Cold water." - -De Maupas stared at the man for a moment in some perplexity. Then the -truth dawned upon him, and he went off into a fit of laughter. - -"Ha, ha! Now I see what De Brin meant. Chill his hot blood--ha, ha! -But even he knoweth not the final reception we have prepared for his -uninvited guests. Ha, ha, ha!" - - * * * * * - -"Yield thyself!" cried De Brin, bearing down upon Edgar as he stood, -sword in hand, at the head of the stairs leading to the underground -tunnel. "Yield thyself, for thou art trapped!" - -"I will yield myself when thou hast vanquished me, De Brin," replied -Edgar, fencing vigorously as their blades clashed together. "How hast -thou trapped me?" - -"Thou seekest to escape through the passage, as once before. Know then -that the farther end is guarded by thine enemy, De Maupas, and a dozen -men. Thy friend, the priest, and all his flock are in full flight, and -all is lost." - -Edgar could not but believe. He had hoped that his pursuers would -ransack the donjon for him before coming to the conclusion that he had -flown to the tunnel for refuge. But unfortunately for him they had -guessed that he would make for the passage, and had sealed it up. And -with him were the two maidens. - -The responsibility of their charge was crushing. Had there been only -Peter he would, with a light heart enough, have dashed for the farther -end in an attempt to break through, though to be unsuccessful was death. -But his heart almost failed him when he thought of the terrible -situation of the ladies. In his preoccupation he gave ground before De -Brin's onslaught, and in a minute or two was driven back to the head of -the flight of steps. Here he stood his ground for a few moments, and -then, after feinting fiercely and compelling De Brin to give back, -sprang down the steps to the open door below. - -At this moment a man-at-arms pressed through the body of men about their -leader, and whispered a few words in the knight's ear. - -The effect was electrical. - -"Ho, there! Edgar Wintour!" cried De Brin furiously. "Madman that thou -art, they tell me that thou hast carried away the lady Beatrice and her -maid with thee. 'Tis to certain death thou art dragging them. Yield -them up, fool! There is escape neither for them nor for thee." - -"If thou wilt promise to let them ride hence in peace, I will yield them -up," replied Edgar quickly. - -"Bah!" cried De Brin. "Thou hast yet to learn how completely thou art -trapped. Let this teach thee!" - -As he spoke the black knight set his weight against one of the huge -blocks of stone piled by the head of the flight of steps. It moved, and -bounded down the slope with tremendous weight and force. Luckily for -Edgar it struck the massive doorpost, and did not come full into the -doorway, or he must have been struck down and perhaps killed outright. -Dreading lest such a mass of stone should bound along the tunnel and -perhaps reach the ladies, our hero whipped the door to and put his -weight against it. - -Somewhat to Edgar's surprise, De Brin made no attempt to force the door, -but instead ordered his men to hurl down upon it the piled-up blocks of -stone. For some minutes a perfect avalanche of these rolled and bounded -down upon the door, and every minute Edgar feared that it would be burst -open. In the hope of adding a little to its strength he kept his weight -against it, though the shock of each stone jarred him to the bone. At -last the well formed by the steps began to be filled, and the jar and -shock lessened until but a slight tremor followed as the rocks were -still flung down. Soon the work was complete, and the castle end of the -passage was blocked by a mass of stone that it would take hours' work by -a score of men to clear away. - -There was no more to be done there, and with a heavy heart Edgar left -the door, and made his way along the tunnel. In the far distance a -light had sprung up, and he guessed that Peter had managed to obtain a -spark and had lit one of the torches they had been careful to snatch -from the wall before they left the upper room. - -"What was that dreadful noise?" asked Beatrice anxiously, as Edgar -joined them. "It echoed along the passage until we thought giants -indeed must be battering at the door." - -"Nay, 'tis worse even than that, Beatrice," replied Edgar solemnly. -"They have hurled down stones and walled us in." - -"Well, is not that good news? They cannot pursue, and if we hasten we -shall escape before they can cut off our retreat. Peter telleth me that -we are almost through this dreadful passage." - -"They have already cut off our retreat, Beatrice," replied Edgar. "Like -a fool, I have brought thee into nothing but a trap. De Brin taunted me -that the farther end was guarded, and I fear 'tis true. I had hoped -that ye would all have been out long ere this. What hath delayed thee, -Peter? The little chance that once we had hath, I fear, gone for ever. - -"We came upon some obstruction in the passage, Master Edgar," replied -Peter earnestly, "and I dared not go on with the ladies in the darkness, -not knowing what pitfalls might lie in wait for us. I stopped to light -a torch, and my flint and steel work none too fast in this damp and -dismal dungeon. But here is the door, and I see no sentinel." - -"Was yon great chest the obstruction? Didst open it?" - -"Nay, I would not stop. Shall I go batter it in?" - -"Nay, let us press on and test the strength of the guard about this end. -Perchance, after all, when the good priest heareth the sound of a -conflict, he may bring down some of his men and make an attack. We -might then break through. Come, hew down that door." - -"How stifling is this passage, Edgar!" cried Beatrice appealingly. "The -heat is becoming dreadful. Whence cometh it?" - -"I cannot understand it," replied Edgar, whose face, in spite of his -brave words of hope, had grown grey and pinched. "No such heat was here -when last we-- But see!--what is that light that glinteth beneath the -door? Give me the axe, Peter! Something is going on beyond that -barrier that giveth me fears I never felt before." - -Swinging the axe with feverish impatience, he smote the lock with -tremendous force. The door instantly flew open, and a glare of light -and a wave of hot air burst in upon them, blinding and scorching them so -fiercely that, with one impulse, they fled backwards a dozen paces into -the shelter or the passage. - -"What is this--dreadful fate--thou hast brought us into, Edgar?" cried -Beatrice in gasps, as Jeannette sank to the ground by her side in a deep -swoon. "Are we, then, to be choked and scorched alive?" - -"Reproach me not, Beatrice," replied Edgar in a tremulous voice, almost -unmanned by the terrible plight into which he had unwittingly brought -the two maidens. "I told thee the hope of escape was faint, but I never -dreamed that such a fearful end might be in store for us." - -"Forgive me, Edgar," cried Beatrice impulsively, placing her hand gently -on the young esquires arm. "I was overhasty in my alarm. I am a -warrior's daughter, and I will not play the coward again." - -"'Tis nothing. Myself I shall not forgive," muttered Edgar. In his -prostration he had sunk back against the wall, his arms resting on the -haft of his great axe and his head bowed down upon them. For a few -minutes he was silent with the silence of despair. Then he resolutely -roused himself from his stupor. "Come," he said, "we are in no -immediate danger here, except it be from stifling. Let us retreat back -beneath the moat. It will be cooler there." - -Headed by Peter with the torch, the little party threaded its way in -dumb despair back into the deeper recesses of the tunnel, Edgar bearing -the limp form of the insensible Jeannette. On arriving at the spot -where the great iron-bound chest half-blocked the passage, Peter halted -and proposed that they should seat themselves. Jeannette was laid upon -the top of the box and Beatrice took her seat upon it, while Edgar and -Peter stood at her side, conversing in low tones upon the hopeless -situation in which they found themselves. The spot at which they had -halted was, as near as they could judge, beneath the castle moat, and -the air was far cooler than at the end towards the fire. - -"At least they cannot reach us," said Edgar presently. "The fire which -bars our escape equally bars their attack. If they have no desire to -encounter us hand to hand beneath the ground, they will have to keep the -fires burning night and day." - -"That will not be difficult with the woods so close at hand," replied -Peter, shaking his head. "They will know that after a day or two we -shall be weakened by hunger and thirst." - -"But if the priest liveth he will guess the reason of these great fires, -and will gather men to harass De Brin. They will find it hard to -maintain themselves." - -"I fear the Father will be dead. When De Brin and his men swept across -the broken drawbridge, doubtless he would head the peasants. Who so -likely to be slain?" - -"Hark!" exclaimed Beatrice suddenly. "Surely that is the sound of -knocking I hear above my head?" - -Both men ceased talking and listened intently. - -A slow and measured beat could be heard distinctly. Even as they -listened it seemed to increase in volume, until it sounded as though -someone were striking the roof above their heads with a muffled sledge. - -Peter stared at his young master wide-eyed. Stout-hearted and faithful -though he was, even he seemed to have been struck with fear at last. - -"They are----" he began. - -"Hush!" whispered Edgar warningly, turning away and again leaning head -and arms on the haft of his great axe. - -"What is it, Edgar?" asked Beatrice softly, placing her hand gently on -the young man's shoulder. "Hide it not from me. Thou wilt, I hope, -find that I can show fortitude when need be." - -"I doubt it not," replied Edgar in a breaking voice. "But can I bring -thee to such a pass and see thee perish unmoved?" - -"But what is it?" reiterated Beatrice appealingly. "What meaneth this -knocking which grows louder every moment? Look! The very wall seems to -shake beneath these mysterious blows." - -"Aye. It meaneth, Beatrice, that Black Eustace or blacker De Maupas is -driving in the tunnel where it passes beneath the moat. Doubtless they -are using an iron bar or a baulk of wood. Their unknightly and shameful -plot is to drown us like rats, or to compel us to run the gauntlet of -their fires. A few minutes and one or other fate is ours." - -Horror-struck, Beatrice gazed at the roof of the passage, now -perceptibly quivering beneath the blows from above. Already the water -was trickling in between the widening cracks of the masonry and running -in tiny streams down the wall to their feet. Once a block of stone had -been driven in, an onrush of water must ensue that would quickly fill -the tunnel. Though the dam that had held up the waters of the moat had -been broken down, the stream water still flowed in volume sufficient to -fill the tunnel a hundred times over. - -"I must return to the mouth of the tunnel and seek speech with De Brin," -cried Edgar, suddenly starting to his feet after contemplating the -widening cracks in gloomy silence. "Better that thou shouldst wed De -Maupas, evil fate though it be, than that thou shouldst perish thus -miserably here." - -"Nay, Edgar," replied Beatrice firmly. "Thou shalt do no such thing. -'Tis for me to say which fate is the better, and I elect to perish here -among friends rather than to live elsewhere among enemies. Calm thyself -and fret not at this mischance. _I_ reproach thee not." - -In spite of his agitation, Edgar could not help gazing in sheer -admiration at his companion. She seemed the calmest and most -unconcerned of the three. His attention was then caught by Peter's -movements. - -The lad had, half-absentmindedly, prized open with his dagger a loose -board near the top of the great chest. He had then plunged in his hand -and taken out a handful of its contents, which seemed to be merely black -dry earth. Holding the substance close to the torch, he examined it in -some perplexity. - -"What hast thou there, Peter?" eagerly asked Edgar, in whose mind a -suspicion of the truth had already begun to dawn. - -"I know not. 'Tis a handful of black grains, of which the chest seems -full." - -"Ha!" ejaculated Edgar with a gasp of excitement, reaching out and -drawing Peter's hand to him. "'Tis that mysterious new powder of which -we have heard of late. It possesseth a strange and mighty power which -some think will bring great changes. I have heard it said[#] that it -showeth promise of becoming a force to be reckoned with in warfare, even -by knights clad in full armour." - -[#] Gunpowder was used at Crécy shortly afterwards. It had, of course, -been used in battle by the Venetians years before. - -"What doth it here?" asked Peter, glancing at the chest with sudden awe. - -"'Twas not here when last we came this way, and perchance Black Eustace, -hearing of the unrest among his vassals, thought to overawe them by this -strange and wellnigh supernatural force. Our sudden attack, and the -rapid blows we never ceased to strike, have given him no opportunity to -make use of his dread possession. Lift down the maid, Peter, and let us -prize open the lid." - -Peter obeyed, and in a moment the great chest lay open before them. It -was full almost to the brim with the little black grains. - -"A way of escape is opening before us!" cried Edgar, in a voice which -vibrated with a new and mighty hope. "Beatrice, wilt thou permit us to -leave thee and thy maid while we make a last attempt to carve a way to -freedom? The risk is great, and it may well prove that we shall burst -in the gates of death rather than wedge open those of life. But to -remain here is to abandon hope." - -For a moment Beatrice hesitated. The thought of being left alone with -the insensible Jeannette in the gloomy tunnel evidently terrified her. -In a moment or two, however, she answered bravely: "I will stay, Edgar." - -"Then follow to the far end. We will leave thee a torch. Come, Peter, -not an instant is to be lost--see how the water begins to gush through -in streams!" - -Rapidly Beatrice and Jeannette were conveyed to the castle end of the -passage. Then the two young men sped quickly back to the great chest, -replaced the lid, and lifted and carried it along in the opposite -direction. Soon they reached the place where the door stood open, -admitting the glare and heat of the great fires burning fiercely above. - -"Set this down for a moment," cried Edgar, dragging the door to. He -then seized his axe and attacked the hinges which held it in position. -A dozen heavy blows rained down with the fierce rapidity of one fighting -for his life, and the door fell outwards with a crash, letting in again -the fierce glare which had been momentarily shut out. - -As the door fell, the sound of cheers, followed by loud laughter, became -audible. Evidently the thunder of the axe strokes had reached the ears -of the men above, and had been received by them as evidence that the -fugitives, driven frantic by the fear of an inrush of water, had -thoughts of making an effort to break through the ring of fire. - -"Wilt yield thee now, braggart esquire?" rang out the stentorian voice -of De Brin, high above the crackling of the fires. - -"Doubtless--an he gets the chance," answered De Maupas with a loud laugh -of derision. - -The sally was received with a roar of laughter from the assembled -men-at-arms, whose enjoyment of the anticipated proceedings seemed -great. At last they were obtaining some return for the alarms and -defeats inflicted upon them by the despised peasantry. - -"We shall see," muttered Edgar to himself as he darted out into the -blazing heat about the steps, lifted the door, and bore it back into the -tunnel. Then he again darted out, and with quick swings of the foot -scattered the heap of burning brands at the foot of the steps until a -space was cleared. The heat was great--wellnigh insupportable. - -"Now, Peter," he gasped, once more bounding back into the partial -shelter of the passage, "aid me to carry the chest to the foot of the -steps. 'Tis our last and only hope." - -Livid with superstition and fear, Peter obeyed. The box was quickly -lifted to the foot of the steps and there set down. Then Peter darted -back into the tunnel and Edgar followed, grasping the door as he passed -and carrying it along with him. - -The peril was tremendous, for at any moment the burning brands which -dropped and rolled down the steps with every puff of wind might set -light to the box and explode its contents. Knowing this, Edgar strained -every nerve to put as much space between himself and the fires as -possible. Half the length of the passage was traversed in safety, and -then, with the thought of Beatrice in his mind, he called Peter back and -raised the door upright so that it nearly closed the tunnel. - -"Aid me to hold it thus, Peter. Set all thy weight against it. -Perchance we may then keep the flame from penetrating to our charges. I -know not much of this powder, but I fear the explosion will be -terrible." - -For nearly half a minute the two young men waited, holding the massive -door in position. Then with a mighty roar and flash the explosion came. -The noise was terrific, and the shock made the very earth tremble. The -door was blown back flat, dashing the two young men to the ground like -straws, and a rush of hot air sped over them like a hurricane. Jumping -to their feet the instant it had passed, they lifted the door back into -position and held it there, choking and gasping with the thick fumes and -smoke of the fiery blast. - -For a moment there was a calm, followed by the ominous sound of falling -objects as the rocks, flung into the air by the explosion, dropped -heavily back to the ground. Then all was still again. - -"Prop this in position while we go back and see how fared the lady -Beatrice," gasped Edgar. "If all is well with her, I believe we may yet -win through to safety." - -Back through the passage beneath the moat, now knee-deep in water, the -young men pressed. The torch had been blown out by the rush of air, and -all was pitchy dark. - -"Beatrice! Beatrice!" shouted Edgar loudly. - -"Here--I am safe--but in sore distress," came the reply, and with a cry -of triumph Edgar sprang to her side. - -Half-choked by the smoke and fumes, with torch blown out and knee-deep -in water, Beatrice's heart had almost failed her, not knowing how her -friends had fared exposed to the nearer shock of the dread explosion. -Had they perished, her plight and that of poor Jeannette, whom she bore -in her arms, would have been mournful indeed. - -Burning with a desire to see the last of the passage which had almost -become their tomb, Edgar lifted Jeannette without a word, grasped -Beatrice by the hand, and stumbled back along the tunnel, Peter going on -ahead. A faint light could be seen gleaming in the distance, and full -of hope that the way lay open to the sky, they pressed on faster and -faster. - -Two-thirds of the length of the passage had been traversed when they -encountered great heaps of fallen earth and masonry, over the top of -which the gleam of daylight dimly struggled. Crawling and scrambling on -all-fours as best they could, they made their way onward still, until at -last they emerged into the open air in the midst of a great pit torn in -the earth by the force of the explosion. - -The air was still sultry with the heat of the fires, burning embers and -blackened branches lay strewn about in all directions, and a thin veil -of smoke lay over all. But not a sign of life was there, save upon the -walls of the castle, where one or two figures could be seen peeping -fearfully over the battlements. - -Clambering up the side of the pit, the little party plunged hurriedly -into the woods. The fate of the soldiery who had revelled about the -fires they knew not, but they had no mind to be recaptured after all the -terrors and privations they had endured. Even when well within the -shelter of the woods, they still pressed breathlessly onward until they -met a party of the peasants approaching the scene of the strange -explosion with slow and timid steps. At the sight of Edgar's party they -stopped and made as though to flee. - -"Where is Father Armand?" cried Edgar quickly. "Fear not--we are flesh -and blood. Take us to Father Armand--if he still lives." - -With their fear changed into amazement the peasants clustered about the -fugitives with every manifestation of joy and gladness. Then, at -Edgar's repeated request, they led the way for a few hundred yards -through the woods to where a larger number of the peasantry were -gathered, doubtless awaiting the report of their scouts before venturing -to approach the scene of the explosion. In their midst, supporting -himself against the trunk of a tree, was Father Armand. At the sight of -Edgar and his companions he gave a cry of pleasure, and, wounded as he -was, made shift to stumble towards them with hands eagerly outstretched. - -"All hope had I given up of seeing you again," he cried in a voice -trembling with emotion. "I feared that you had stayed to fight on, and -had been beaten down at last. Thank God you are safe!" - -"Thank God indeed!" replied Edgar reverently, "for were it not for a -strange discovery at the last moment we must have met a dreadful fate. -Almost we were spent." - -"That dread noise and quaking of the earth was it then thy doing?" - -"Aye, Father; but of that I will tell thee later. Canst now have these -maidens taken to a place of calm and safety, where some of the peasant -women may minister to them? They have been through a trial this day -that might well shake the courage of men used to facing death in many -forms." - -"They shall be taken to the cave, and there treated with loving care and -hospitality," cried the priest; and calling two of his men he sent them -off running to the village. Soon they were back with two women, who -took charge of the maidens, and set out with them for the shelter of the -cave. - -With the departure of the ladies, Edgar's thoughts turned again to the -task still remaining unaccomplished. Their enemies had no doubt been -thrown into a panic by the strange and unexpected explosion, and, though -exhausted and nerve-shaken, he felt reluctant to lose an opportunity of -subduing them before they had had time to recover. So he proposed to -Father Armand that he should lead those among the peasantry whose -courage was still unbroken to the attack of the castle once more. The -spirits of the depressed peasants had risen considerably at the -appearance of the second of their leaders, and when the priest called -for volunteers to follow Edgar nearly all responded. - -Without a moment's delay, and straight forward to the gates of the -castle, Edgar led the men. Crossing the filled-in moat, the band pressed -through the gateway, and found their way barred by the merest handful of -the defenders of the castle. At the first attack these, dumbfounded and -dispirited, threw down their arms and surrendered. - -Directing several men to take charge of the prisoners and to treat them -well, Edgar next made for the door of the keep. This again was weakly -defended, and he realized that almost without a stroke the castle had -been won. What, then, could have become of De Brin and De Maupas? -Could they have perished in the explosion? - -Questioning the prisoners, Edgar found that only a bare half-dozen of -burnt and panic-stricken men had succeeded in making their way back into -the castle from the circle of fires in the woods. From none of these -could news be obtained of their leaders, and it could only be concluded -that they had been blown to pieces in company with the major part of -their followers. - -Desirous of avoiding the giving-up of the castle to promiscuous plunder, -Edgar posted a guard at the gates, and withdrew with the rest of the -band to the woods. Amid the rapturous cheers of the peasantry he -reported their success to Father Armand. The good priest was indeed -overjoyed to hear that the power of the oppressors of his flock was -broken at last, and that no more bloodshed need be incurred. - -With Edgar's desire to prevent indiscriminate plundering he heartily -agreed, and a plan was quickly arranged by which all that was useful and -valuable in the castle might be saved and used for the common good, and -the building then be razed to the ground. - -This arrangement was carried out to the letter, and in a day or two the -site which had been disgraced by the grim Castle of Ruthènes bore -nothing but a heap of tumbled ruins. No more could the mercenaries of -the castle sally out and burn and destroy without let or hindrance, and -no more need the poor villagers live in hourly dread of violence and -extortion. - -The survivors of the garrison were given the choice of settling down in -the neighbourhood, where they could be kept under observation, or of -being conducted over the mountains into Spain, well out of harm's way. -Most elected to take the former offer, and were soon living on good -terms with their erstwhile enemies. - -As Father Armand and Edgar well knew, such summary justice might in -ordinary times have brought a fresh body of soldiery to the spot, intent -to rivet a yoke, perchance every whit as irksome, afresh upon their -necks. But the confusion caused by the invasion of the English was so -great that they had hopes that it might pass unnoticed. - -Indeed, the invasion of the English was followed closely by the fearful -depredations of the Free Companies and the general insurrection of the -peasantry. Convulsed by these successive blows, France had little time -or energy to spare for internal affairs, and if the news of the capture -of Ruthènes ever reached the ears of the authorities, they were too much -occupied to take any action, and the matter was allowed to fade into the -obscurity of the past. - - - - - *CHAPTER XXII* - - *The Last of Ruthènes* - - -The shock and strain of their trying ordeal beneath the castle moat was -so great that it was some days before the lady Beatrice and her maid -were sufficiently recovered to leave the shelter of their quiet retreat -on the slopes of the mountains. They were tended devotedly by the -kindly women-folk of the peasantry, and regularly visited by Edgar and -Peter; but even so, it was nearly a week before Beatrice, eager to be -gone though she was, could pronounce herself fit to travel on horseback. - -When the news of their approaching departure was told to Father Armand -he showed much concern. - -"Deeply sorry shall I be to lose thee," he said to Edgar in a voice in -which there was more than a trace of sadness. "I know that thy path and -mine must diverge widely and that I shall never see thee more. We have -been comrades, and stood shoulder to shoulder for a brief space, and it -wrings my heart that it must be so no more. But come, 'tis useless to -dwell upon our sorrows; the last act in the story of the freeing of -Ruthènes is about to commence, and at least thou wilt stay to witness -it?" - -"What act is that, Father? The castle is now razed to the ground, and -all seemeth already over." - -"Nay, there is still one thing more to be done. Ye men of war think that -once the citadel is captured all is done that is worth doing. Stay with -us for a few short hours and then all will be ready." - -Edgar assented gladly enough, for the thoughts of a final parting from -the brave old priest were far from pleasing. The time was occupied in -preparations for the departure, and when a summons came from Father -Armand to meet him before the castle ruins all was in readiness for the -journey. - -Leading their horses through the wood, the little party presently -emerged on the strip of sward which once surrounded the castle, and -found themselves in the presence of an assemblage of the whole of the -peasantry of the neighbourhood, drawn up in orderly array as though -summoned to a ceremony. In front stood the priest, and as the ladies, -Edgar, and Peter came into sight he beckoned them to approach. The -contrast was great. Father Armand was robed as for Mass, while Edgar -and Peter had donned most of their armour, and looked as martial as -could be. - -"'Tis a simple act I have now to perform," the priest said with solemn -dignity, in a voice which reached to the farthest point of the assembly. -"The emblem of cruelty and oppression is gone, and in its place I -purpose to plant emblems of new life, pure and undefiled, which shall be -to my people a sign of new hopes, new progress, and new joys." - -Turning towards several young men and maidens clad in white near him, -the priest spread his hands to heaven, and besought that a blessing -might descend upon the act they were appointed to perform. Then he -signed to the others to commence, and, with slow and subdued tread, the -young men and maidens scattered over the ruins, bearing young shrubs, -shoots, and climbing plants, and began to plant them everywhere. - -"As these plants blot out the ugly blood-stained wreck of the stronghold -of Eustace de Brin, so I trust will the memory and the injury of the -wicked deeds this place has known grow dim and fade away. As the new -shoots spring up to heaven so shall our faith in God and His goodness -receive fresh life until we are a new people." - -Reverently the priest spoke, and reverently his people listened and -watched until the simple task was ended. Still the priest spoke to -them, warning them that they let not slip the chance of fuller life and -growth. Gently, too, he chided them that naught would be gained were -the yoke of their oppressors but exchanged for an inward yoke of -unrestrained selfishness or indulgence. - -To Edgar the simple act, and the gentle, earnest words with which it was -accompanied, seemed deeply impressive. The profession of arms, of which -he had till then thought so highly, seemed to shrink and to become mean -and transient when brought into contact with the healing powers of the -good old priest. Almost he regretted that the future held out no hopes -of his being able to relinquish the trade of arms, and to follow a -profession more peaceful and more fraught with benefit to the world at -large. - -Presently Father Armand began to refer to their visitors' approaching -departure. - -"In the sudden appearance of Sir Squire here at the moment when our need -was greatest I see the finger of God, and to God our thanks are firstly -due. But we must yet tell our friend how much we owe him and his -comrade for the dauntless courage with which they led us peasants, -ignorant of the art of war, to the assault of the mighty castle upon -whose dust we stand. How wisely they counselled us and how gallantly -they led us, ever taking the foremost and heaviest tasks upon their own -shoulders! Upon these maidens, whose misfortunes were the cause of our -doughty friends' appearance, we bestow our blessing, and we trust that -the memory of their sufferings may soon be blotted out in happiness and -joy. - -"Sir Squire hath refused to accept any presents from the contents of the -castle, save only two mounts for the ladies from the best steeds the -stables could provide. With those chargers and our thanks we must bid -Godspeed to them, hoping that such a dread experience as the siege -beneath the castle moat may never again be thrust upon them. Farewell, -true friends, farewell!" - -The priest advanced and embraced each of the party in turn, while the -simple peasant folk crowded about, and, with many ejaculations of -gratitude, signified in their own way their thanks for the strong and -timely aid rendered them in their fight for freedom. As soon as he -could, Edgar gave the signal for the party to mount, and with a last -farewell they rode slowly and thoughtfully from the scene. - - * * * * * - -The shadow which lay over the Wolsingham ladies and their escort all the -time they were in the neighbourhood of Ruthènes gradually lifted as they -left the thick, dark woods and the slopes of the Pyrenees behind them. -More and more freely they rode, until they were almost as gay as in -their departure from Wolsingham but a month or two--though it seemed a -lifetime--before. - -Edgar took the journey in easy stages. True, Sir John would be -anxiously awaiting their return; but the ladies were still scarcely -recovered from their ordeal, and he had no mind to make any calls upon -their endurance. Besides, somehow he seemed to look forward to the time -when he should hand his charges over to his master with strangely little -eagerness. So they lingered somewhat, and enjoyed to the full their -journey through the beautiful land which was so soon to be devastated by -invasion and internal strife. Beatrice, too, seemed to be content, and -made no complaint that the pace was slow. One day Edgar had been -speaking of Sir John, and wondering whether he would now be recovered -sufficiently to take his place with the earl's force, which had -doubtless by this time moved forward. - -"Wilt thou stay with Gertrude in Bordeaux or travel to Faucigny, -Beatrice?" he asked. - -"I know not, Edgar," she replied. "I wish with all my heart that we -might take Sir John back to Wolsingham. I am sure he will not be really -strong enough for more campaigning for months to come." - -"Ah--then I fear I shall have to bid you all a long adieu." - -"Why--what meanest thou? Thou must come, of course." - -"Nay, how can I? If Sir John cannot lead the Wolsingham men-at-arms -against the foe, he will be certain to bid me take his place." - -"That must not be. I will myself speak to Sir John. Thou hast warred -enough--let others do their share. Thou oughtest now to settle down in -peace." - -"Ah--'tis the impossible of which thou speakest. Thou know'st, surely, -that I have naught but my sword. 'Tis easy for those with broad acres -to speak of peace, but for me, war and preparations for war are my -sustenance." - -"Take, then, of my acres--my possessions in Guienne, take them in part -payment of my debt to thee. With our country at war with the King of -France, they will need a strong arm indeed to defend them if they are -not to be lost for ever." - -Edgar's face flushed. "Nay----" he began, and then stopped suddenly. -Absorbed in the conversation he had been caught napping. He and his -companion had been riding some paces in advance of Peter and the maid, -and had topped a rise without taking any precaution to see first what -might be beyond it. Thus they found themselves in full view of what -looked like an army on the march, with banners streaming and helmets and -lance points gleaming in the sunshine. - -One glance, however, was sufficient to tell Edgar that the force was at -any rate largely English, and the hand he had momentarily laid in alarm -upon his companion's bridle dropped again by his side. "'Tis the earl," -he said. "Let us ride straight forward." - -It was evident that they had been seen at least as quickly as they had -seen, for half a dozen knights were already spurring rapidly towards -them. - -As they drew near, the foremost slackened speed and, addressing Edgar, -cried: - -"Who art thou and what is thine errand?" - -"I am Edgar Wintour, esquire to Sir John Chartris. I and my party are -riding into Bordeaux." - -"Ha! Methinks I remember seeing thee in the lists a while agone. But -come, follow me to the earl, for he will be glad to question thee and -find out what thou know'st of the movements of our enemy." - -Peter and Jeannette had by this time ridden up, and, preceded by the -knights, the whole party moved forward to the head of the advancing -army. As they drew close the column was halted, and in a moment Edgar -found himself in the presence of the Earl of Derby and the other lords -and nobles of the English and Gascon forces. All were mounted and clad -in full mail in readiness for instant action. - -"They tell me," said the earl, glancing keenly at the young man who had -just ridden steadily up and saluted him, "they tell me thou art Edgar -Wintour, the esquire of our good Sir John Chartris. If so, tell me what -thou art doing here, in the enemy's country. I have heard somewhat from -Sir John, but tell me all--and briefly, for our time is short." - -In a few quick sentences, Edgar told the earl the story of his quest, -its strange vicissitudes, and its successful accomplishment. Though the -story lost much by its baldness and absence of detail, he could see that -it made no small impression upon his hearers. One or two exchanged -glances, though what they meant he scarce knew what to think. - -"Humph!" said the earl shortly, "so thou hast been in league with the -subjects of the King of France, hast thou? That remindeth me: was it -not thou who masqueraded as Sir John Chartris in his combat of honour -with our worthy Sir Gervaise de Maupas? Dost remember that, Sir -Walter?" he said, turning to Sir Walter Manny. "Thou wert one of the -marshals that day. Nicely wert thou tricked by this fledgling here." - -Sir Walter frowned and growled an inarticulate reply. - -Edgar turned pale. Things seemed to be going awry. He glanced at -Beatrice, but she seemed merely amused. Angered at her indifference, he -turned resolutely to the earl: - -"I am not ashamed," he said, with a touch of haughtiness. "What I did -seemed for the best, and who can do more?" - -"We must see about that," responded the earl, quite unmoved. "Dismount, -Sir Squire." - -Mechanically Edgar obeyed. Disgrace and humiliation were hard indeed to -bear, but firmly he held up his head and faced the earl. He would not -flinch, he vowed, before his countrymen any more than he had flinched -before his enemies in the Castle of Ruthènes. The earl's face had -flushed and his eyes sparkled. - -"Bow thy head," he cried peremptorily, and his sword flashed from its -sheath. Rapidly but gently it fell upon Edgar's shoulder. - -"Sir Edgar Wintour, we are proud of thee. Knightly hast thou borne -thyself in field and castle, and the knight's spurs are thine indeed." -There was a loud murmur of assent from the knights and nobles crowding -about, and as it ceased, the earl went on: "Mount now and come with us a -furlong or two, for time presses and I would ask thee if thou hast seen -aught of our enemies. Then thou canst resume thy journey. But when and -wherever thou wilt, we shall welcome thee to our banners." - -Again there was a murmur of cordial agreement, and, with his head in a -whirl, Edgar mounted and rode by the earl's side, answering his eager -questions as best he could. Then he rejoined his companions, and, -halting a few paces from the path of the army, watched them move forward -upon their march of conquest. The sight was an inspiriting one, for the -force seemed to strike the highest note of both hardihood and chivalry, -and Edgar, as he watched, longed to take his place within its ranks. - -Presently the last files of the army had passed by, the waving banners -had receded into the distance, and the Wolsingham party, feeling a -sudden sense of loneliness, had nothing left them but to resume their -march towards Bordeaux. - -For a long time the party was a silent one. Edgar was thinking over the -changes which must ensue now that he was a gold-spurred knight. For one -thing, he could no longer remain in Sir John's service. His late master -could now scarce afford to support a knight, even if he desired to do -so. Thus his connection with Wolsingham would seem to be at an end. -The thought was hardly a pleasant one. - -Beatrice, too, rode as though lost in thoughts none too bright, though -once or twice she stole a quick look at her silent companion. Presently -she roused herself with an effort, and began to rally Edgar on his -gloominess. - -"Thou art glum, Sir Edgar," she cried gaily. "Surely thou hast all thou -canst desire--knighthood and a goodly fame, the earl's approval: what -more canst wish for?" - -"Yes, yes, Beatrice," replied Edgar half absently, "'tis as thou sayest. -I have much to be thankful for--and yet there are some things I regret, -for I fear 'twill mean that I must leave Sir John's service." - -"Is that all?" asked Beatrice, raising her eyebrows in indifference. - -Edgar's absence of mind vanished, and he stared at his fair companion -with a chagrin that his sudden astonishment did not give him time to -conceal. - -"Is it--is it nothing to thee, then?" he stammered, after an awkward -pause. - -"Why should it be, Sir Edgar?" asked Beatrice easily. - -"I know not--but I thought that perhaps what hath passed----" Edgar -stopped quickly, feeling that what he was about to say was far from -generous. - -"What thou hast done for me, thou meanest? Thou shalt be paid." - -"Paid!" almost shouted Edgar. "Not one groat will I accept. How can'st -think of such a thing, Beatrice?" - -"Dost scorn payment, Edgar? Mayhap thou wilt one day be glad to accept -what ye now so scorn." - -"Never, Beatrice!" cried Edgar emphatically. "'Tis true I am landless, -but at any rate I can always ride away and join the league of the -'knights of the sword', or one of the other bands of knights who spend -their lives defending Christendom from the inroads of the Turks. Long -have I thought that with no means but a ready sword such might be my -fate." - -"Dost then look forward to warring all thy days?" asked Beatrice, a look -of trouble coming into her face for the first time. - -"Nay, how can I, with Father Armand's words still ringing in my ears? -But----" and Edgar relapsed again into a silence which his companion for -a long time did not care to disturb. - -The following day they arrived at Bordeaux. - - - - - *CHAPTER XXIII* - - *Sir John's Choice* - - -Our story draws to a close, and we must pass over the eager welcome that -awaited the travellers from Sir John and his daughter, who were still at -the inn. Sir John, indeed, had not progressed so rapidly as had been -expected. His fever and his wounds had left him very weak, and he had -but the day before resolved to leave France and return to Wolsingham -until such time as he might have completely recovered. Gertrude, of -course, was to go with him, and now that Beatrice had returned she, too, -must accompany her guardian, and the visit to Faucigny had perforce to -be completely abandoned. - -With Edgar a knight, there was no question as to his movements. It was -obvious that his duty was to join the earl's force without delay. - -"Thou hast begun well, Edgar," remarked Sir John, when Edgar's final -visit was drawing to a close. "Thou must go on and win fame, for I -believe that this campaign will be filled with deeds which will add much -to the honour and glory of England's name. I would that I might fling -my sword into the conflict and strike a few more blows for my beloved -country. But no--thou must represent me for the nonce." - -Edgar bowed slightly. - -"As for Beatrice here," went on Sir John, turning suddenly towards his -ward, "she must home with me. I fear she is getting wayward and -headstrong, and if I am to keep close watch upon every gallant who -dreams of the revenue of her lands, my task will be no light one. -Fortunately for me, I have the bestowal of her hand in marriage, and, -with no little relief, I have decided to find a suitable husband for -her. 'Twill lighten my responsibilities, and her lands need a good -sword to defend them in these troublous times. I have for some time had -in mind a knight of good descent and of staid demeanour, and I shall now -bring matters to a head." - -"But, Sir John----" stammered Beatrice in hot amaze. - -"Be silent, maid!" cried Sir John angrily. "Wouldst dare to oppose thy -wishes against the considered judgment of thy guardian?" - -But Beatrice stood her ground rebelliously, tossing her pretty head in -unmistakable anger and defiance. Nevertheless, Sir John showed no sign -of relenting, and, not daring to oppose him openly, at last she turned -with a look of appeal to Edgar, who was staring at the floor with an air -that betokened no little disturbance of mind. His glance met hers, and -it was clear to her that he knew as little of Sir John's plans as she. - -"Who is this knight, then?" she cried in a stifled voice, turning again -towards Sir John. - -"He is a knight of some fame. One, moreover, of sober and godly -habits." - -"But who is he?" - -"Think not that I will allow thee to question my----" - -"Torture me not, Sir John!" cried Beatrice vehemently. "Who is he?" - -"'Tis Sir Edgar Wintour, Beatrice." - -"_Oh!_" - -"Darest thou oppose my will, Beatrice?" - -Beatrice was flushed, and looked as though she hardly knew which way to -turn. Edgar was staring at Sir John as if he thought his ears had -played him a trick. - -For some moments there was silence, and then Sir John repeated his -question, for Beatrice had turned away and was toying with her brooch. - -"Dost oppose my will, Beatrice?" - -"It would grieve me to disobey thee, Sir John," she said at length, in a -tone of dutiful submission. - -"He will make thee a good husband," replied Sir John, smiling in a way -that made Beatrice inwardly furious. "What dost think of my choice, -girl?" - -Beatrice subdued her resentment as best she could, and replied demurely: - -"Mayhap he is better than De Maupas." - -"De Maupas! Canst say no more than that, Beatrice?" cried Edgar, -breaking in impetuously. - -"Not one word," replied the maid, with a haughty stamp of the foot as -she turned the vials of her resentment upon the luckless Edgar. Sir -John laughed outright, and with the best grace he could Edgar was, for -the moment, forced to rest content. But a time would come, he vowed to -himself, when a much more satisfactory reply should be forthcoming. - -The farewells were soon said, and in a few hours Edgar was on his way to -join the earl, while Sir John and his daughter and ward were en route -for England. Though scarce another word was exchanged, it was -nevertheless well understood between Beatrice and our hero that, on his -return from the wars, he would receive a warmer welcome and the full -payment promised him so readily a day or two before. - -The campaign proved to be a brilliant one. It opened with a sudden and -desperate onslaught upon Bergerac, where the French had strongly -entrenched themselves. The town was stormed with a swing that so -astounded the French that their forces dispersed before the earl, and -allowed him to overrun Perigord and the Agenois with scarce an attempt -at resistance. - -Presently, however, the French collected a new army, and, returning to -the attack, laid siege to Auberoche with ten thousand men. The news of -the attack reached the Earl of Derby too late to enable him to collect a -proper force, but, with the true spirit of chivalry, he started away for -the scene with but three hundred lances and six hundred archers. - -Arrived in the vicinity of the beleaguered town, the tiny English force -stole upon the enemy under cover of a wood, and, regardless of their -overwhelming strength, attacked them so furiously that the whole French -army were glad to save themselves by flight. So great was the respect -this feat brought to the English name that fortress after fortress fell -into their hands with scarce a check, and it was not until France was -completely aroused, and sent the Duke of Normandy with one hundred -thousand men, that the small force of conquering Englishmen could be -stayed. - -Aiguillon, held by Sir Walter Manny for England, was attacked by the -whole of the huge French army. For five months assault after assault -was made upon it. On one occasion, indeed, for five successive days the -fight went on, each of the four divisions of the French army taking its -turn for three hours at a time. All to no purpose. The brave garrison -repulsed all assaults, and even then showed no sign of exhaustion. The -siege was at length raised, and the earl was left for the time being the -undisputed ruler of the south of France. - -In all these gallant doings Edgar, still attended by the faithful Peter, -took part; and when, only two years after his departure from Wolsingham, -he returned to England, he had seen as many stirring fights as most -knights of twice his age. He never went to the wars again, for he soon -became fast anchored to one whom he had learned to love in the stirring -events that centred round the grim Castle of Ruthènes. - - - - PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN - _At the Villafield Press, Glasgow, Scotland_ - - - - - - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EDGAR THE READY *** - - - - -A Word from Project Gutenberg - - -We will update this book if we find any errors. - -This book can be found under: http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/49283 - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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. -Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this -license, apply to copying and distributing Project Gutenberg(tm) -electronic works to protect the Project Gutenberg(tm) concept and -trademark. 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