diff options
Diffstat (limited to '49283-h/49283-h.html')
| -rw-r--r-- | 49283-h/49283-h.html | 9838 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 9838 deletions
diff --git a/49283-h/49283-h.html b/49283-h/49283-h.html deleted file mode 100644 index 93cbabc..0000000 --- a/49283-h/49283-h.html +++ /dev/null @@ -1,9838 +0,0 @@ -<?xml version='1.0' encoding='utf-8'?> -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC '-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.1//EN' 'http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml11/DTD/xhtml11.dtd'> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<head> -<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8" /> -<meta name="generator" content="Docutils 0.12: http://docutils.sourceforge.net/" /> -<style type="text/css"> -/* -Project Gutenberg common docutils stylesheet. - -This stylesheet contains styles common to HTML and EPUB. Put styles -that are specific to HTML and EPUB into their relative stylesheets. - -:Author: Marcello Perathoner (webmaster@gutenberg.org) -:Copyright: This stylesheet has been placed in the public domain. - -This stylesheet is based on: - - :Author: David Goodger (goodger@python.org) - :Copyright: This stylesheet has been placed in the public domain. - - Default cascading style sheet for the HTML output of Docutils. - -*/ - -/* ADE 1.7.2 chokes on !important and throws all css out. */ - -/* FONTS */ - -.italics { font-style: italic } -.no-italics { font-style: normal } - -.bold { font-weight: bold } -.no-bold { font-weight: normal } - -.small-caps { } /* Epub needs italics */ -.gesperrt { } /* Epub needs italics */ -.antiqua { font-style: italic } /* what else can we do ? */ -.monospaced { font-family: monospace } - -.smaller { font-size: smaller } -.larger { font-size: larger } - -.xx-small { font-size: xx-small } -.x-small { font-size: x-small } -.small { font-size: small } -.medium { font-size: medium } -.large { font-size: large } -.x-large { font-size: x-large } -.xx-large { font-size: xx-large } - -.text-transform-uppercase { text-transform: uppercase } -.text-transform-lowercase { text-transform: lowercase } -.text-transform-none { text-transform: none } - -.red { color: red } -.green { color: green } -.blue { color: blue } -.yellow { color: yellow } -.white { color: white } -.gray { color: gray } -.black { color: black } - -/* ALIGN */ - -.left { text-align: left } -.justify { text-align: justify } -.center { text-align: center; text-indent: 0 } -.centerleft { text-align: center; text-indent: 0 } -.right { text-align: right; text-indent: 0 } - -/* LINE HEIGHT */ - -body { line-height: 1.5 } -p { margin: 0; - text-indent: 2em } - -/* PAGINATION */ - -.title, .subtitle { page-break-after: avoid } - -.container, .title, .subtitle, #pg-header - { page-break-inside: avoid } - -/* SECTIONS */ - -body { text-align: justify } - -p.pfirst, p.noindent { - text-indent: 0 -} - -.boxed { border: 1px solid black; padding: 1em } -.topic, .note { margin: 5% 0; border: 1px solid black; padding: 1em } -div.section { clear: both } - -div.line-block { margin: 1.5em 0 } /* same leading as p */ -div.line-block.inner { margin: 0 0 0 10% } -div.line { margin-left: 20%; text-indent: -20%; } -.line-block.noindent div.line { margin-left: 0; text-indent: 0; } - -hr.docutils { margin: 1.5em 40%; border: none; border-bottom: 1px solid black; } -div.transition { margin: 1.5em 0 } - -.vfill, .vspace { border: 0px solid white } - -.title { margin: 1.5em 0 } -.title.with-subtitle { margin-bottom: 0 } -.subtitle { margin: 1.5em 0 } - -/* header font style */ -/* http://dev.w3.org/csswg/css3-fonts/#propdef-font-size */ - -h1.title { font-size: 200%; } /* for book title only */ -h2.title, p.subtitle.level-1 { font-size: 150%; margin-top: 4.5em; margin-bottom: 2em } -h3.title, p.subtitle.level-2 { font-size: 120%; margin-top: 2.25em; margin-bottom: 1.25em } -h4.title, p.subtitle.level-3 { font-size: 100%; margin-top: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 1.5em; font-weight: bold; } -h5.title, p.subtitle.level-4 { font-size: 89%; margin-top: 1.87em; margin-bottom: 1.69em; font-style: italic; } -h6.title, p.subtitle.level-5 { font-size: 60%; margin-top: 3.5em; margin-bottom: 2.5em } - -/* title page */ - -h1.title, p.subtitle.level-1, -h2.title, p.subtitle.level-2 { text-align: center } - -#pg-header, -h1.document-title { margin: 10% 0 5% 0 } -p.document-subtitle { margin: 0 0 5% 0 } - -/* PG header and footer */ -#pg-machine-header { } -#pg-produced-by { } - -li.toc-entry { list-style-type: none } -ul.open li, ol.open li { margin-bottom: 1.5em } - -.attribution { margin-top: 1.5em } - -.example-rendered { - margin: 1em 5%; border: 1px dotted red; padding: 1em; background-color: #ffd } -.literal-block.example-source { - margin: 1em 5%; border: 1px dotted blue; padding: 1em; background-color: #eef } - -/* DROPCAPS */ - -/* BLOCKQUOTES */ - -blockquote { margin: 1.5em 10% } - -blockquote.epigraph { } - -blockquote.highlights { } - -div.local-contents { margin: 1.5em 10% } - -div.abstract { margin: 3em 10% } -div.image { margin: 1.5em 0 } -div.caption { margin: 1.5em 0 } -div.legend { margin: 1.5em 0 } - -.hidden { display: none } - -.invisible { visibility: hidden; color: white } /* white: mozilla print bug */ - -a.toc-backref { - text-decoration: none ; - color: black } - -dl.docutils dd { - margin-bottom: 0.5em } - -div.figure { margin-top: 3em; margin-bottom: 3em } - -img { max-width: 100% } - -div.footer, div.header { - clear: both; - font-size: smaller } - -div.sidebar { - margin: 0 0 0.5em 1em ; - border: medium outset ; - padding: 1em ; - background-color: #ffffee ; - width: 40% ; - float: right ; - clear: right } - -div.sidebar p.rubric { - font-family: sans-serif ; - font-size: medium } - -ol.simple, ul.simple { margin: 1.5em 0 } - -ol.toc-list, ul.toc-list { padding-left: 0 } -ol ol.toc-list, ul ul.toc-list { padding-left: 5% } - -ol.arabic { - list-style: decimal } - -ol.loweralpha { - list-style: lower-alpha } - -ol.upperalpha { - list-style: upper-alpha } - -ol.lowerroman { - list-style: lower-roman } - -ol.upperroman { - list-style: upper-roman } - -p.credits { - font-style: italic ; - font-size: smaller } - -p.label { - white-space: nowrap } - -p.rubric { - font-weight: bold ; - font-size: larger ; - color: maroon ; - text-align: center } - -p.sidebar-title { - font-family: sans-serif ; - font-weight: bold ; - font-size: larger } - -p.sidebar-subtitle { - font-family: sans-serif ; - font-weight: bold } - -p.topic-title, p.admonition-title { - font-weight: bold } - -pre.address { - margin-bottom: 0 ; - margin-top: 0 ; - font: inherit } - -.literal-block, .doctest-block { - margin-left: 2em ; - margin-right: 2em; } - -span.classifier { - font-family: sans-serif ; - font-style: oblique } - -span.classifier-delimiter { - font-family: sans-serif ; - font-weight: bold } - -span.interpreted { - font-family: sans-serif } - -span.option { - white-space: nowrap } - -span.pre { - white-space: pre } - -span.problematic { - color: red } - -span.section-subtitle { - /* font-size relative to parent (h1..h6 element) */ - font-size: 100% } - -table { margin-top: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 1.5em; border-spacing: 0 } -table.align-left, table.align-right { margin-top: 0 } - -table.table { border-collapse: collapse; } - -table.table.hrules-table thead { border: 1px solid black; border-width: 2px 0 0 } -table.table.hrules-table tbody { border: 1px solid black; border-width: 2px 0 } -table.table.hrules-rows tr { border: 1px solid black; border-width: 0 0 1px } -table.table.hrules-rows tr.last { border-width: 0 } -table.table.hrules-rows td, -table.table.hrules-rows th { padding: 1ex 1em; vertical-align: middle } - -table.table tr { border-width: 0 } -table.table td, -table.table th { padding: 0.5ex 1em } -table.table tr.first td { padding-top: 1ex } -table.table tr.last td { padding-bottom: 1ex } -table.table tr.first th { padding-top: 1ex } -table.table tr.last th { padding-bottom: 1ex } - - -table.citation { - border-left: solid 1px gray; - margin-left: 1px } - -table.docinfo { - margin: 3em 4em } - -table.docutils { } - -div.footnote-group { margin: 1em 0 } -table.footnote td.label { width: 2em; text-align: right; padding-left: 0 } - -table.docutils td, table.docutils th, -table.docinfo td, table.docinfo th { - padding: 0 0.5em; - vertical-align: top } - -table.docutils th.field-name, table.docinfo th.docinfo-name { - font-weight: bold ; - text-align: left ; - white-space: nowrap ; - padding-left: 0 } - -/* used to remove borders from tables and images */ -.borderless, table.borderless td, table.borderless th { - border: 0 } - -table.borderless td, table.borderless th { - /* Override padding for "table.docutils td" with "!important". - The right padding separates the table cells. */ - padding: 0 0.5em 0 0 } /* FIXME: was !important */ - -h1 tt.docutils, h2 tt.docutils, h3 tt.docutils, -h4 tt.docutils, h5 tt.docutils, h6 tt.docutils { - font-size: 100% } - -ul.auto-toc { - list-style-type: none } -</style> -<style type="text/css"> -/* -Project Gutenberg HTML docutils stylesheet. - -This stylesheet contains styles specific to HTML. -*/ - -/* FONTS */ - -/* em { font-style: normal } -strong { font-weight: normal } */ - -.small-caps { font-variant: small-caps } -.gesperrt { letter-spacing: 0.1em } - -/* ALIGN */ - -.align-left { clear: left; - float: left; - margin-right: 1em } - -.align-right { clear: right; - float: right; - margin-left: 1em } - -.align-center { margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto } - -div.shrinkwrap { display: table; } - -/* SECTIONS */ - -body { margin: 5% 10% 5% 10% } - -/* compact list items containing just one p */ -li p.pfirst { margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 0 } - -.first { margin-top: 0 !important; - text-indent: 0 !important } -.last { margin-bottom: 0 !important } - -span.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 1 } -img.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.5em 0 0; max-width: 25% } -span.dropspan { font-variant: small-caps } - -.no-page-break { page-break-before: avoid !important } - -/* PAGINATION */ - -.pageno { position: absolute; right: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; text-indent: 0 } -.pageno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } -.lineno { position: absolute; left: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; text-indent: 0 } -.lineno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } -.toc-pageref { float: right } - -@media screen { - .coverpage, .frontispiece, .titlepage, .verso, .dedication, .plainpage - { margin: 10% 0; } - - div.clearpage, div.cleardoublepage - { margin: 10% 0; border: none; border-top: 1px solid gray; } - - .vfill { margin: 5% 10% } -} - -@media print { - div.clearpage { page-break-before: always; padding-top: 10% } - div.cleardoublepage { page-break-before: right; padding-top: 10% } - - .vfill { margin-top: 20% } - h2.title { margin-top: 20% } -} - -/* DIV */ -pre { font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.9em; white-space: pre-wrap } -</style> -<title>EDGAR THE READY</title> -<meta name="DC.Creator" content="W. P. Shervill" /> -<meta name="MARCREL.ill" content="Charles M. Sheldon" /> -<meta name="DC.Title" content="Edgar the Ready A Tale of the Third Edward's Reign" /> -<meta name="DC.Language" content="en" /> -<meta name="DC.Created" content="1914" /> -<meta name="PG.Rights" content="Public Domain" /> -<link rel="coverpage" href="images/img-cover.jpg" /> -<meta name="PG.Id" content="49283" /> -<meta name="PG.Producer" content="Al Haines" /> -<meta name="PG.Released" content="2015-06-25" /> -<meta name="PG.Title" content="Edgar the Ready" /> - -<link href="http://purl.org/dc/terms/" rel="schema.DCTERMS" /> -<link href="http://id.loc.gov/vocabulary/relators/" rel="schema.MARCREL" /> -<meta content="Edgar the Ready A Tale of the Third Edward's Reign" name="DCTERMS.title" /> -<meta content="/home/ajhaines/edgar/edgar.rst" name="DCTERMS.source" /> -<meta content="en" scheme="DCTERMS.RFC4646" name="DCTERMS.language" /> -<meta content="2015-06-25T18:21:01.189142+00:00" scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" name="DCTERMS.modified" /> -<meta content="Project Gutenberg" name="DCTERMS.publisher" /> -<meta content="Public Domain in the USA." name="DCTERMS.rights" /> -<link href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/49283" rel="DCTERMS.isFormatOf" /> -<meta content="W. P. Shervill" name="DCTERMS.creator" /> -<meta content="Charles M. Sheldon" name="MARCREL.ill" /> -<meta content="2015-06-25" scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" name="DCTERMS.created" /> -<meta content="width=device-width" name="viewport" /> -<meta content="Ebookmaker 0.4.0a5 by Marcello Perathoner <webmaster@gutenberg.org>" name="generator" /> -</head> -<body> -<div class="document" id="edgar-the-ready"> -<h1 class="center document-title level-1 pfirst title"><span class="x-large">EDGAR THE READY</span></h1> - -<!-- this is the default PG-RST stylesheet --> -<!-- figure and image styles for non-image formats --> -<!-- default transition --> -<!-- default attribution --> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="clearpage"> -</div> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="container language-en pgheader" id="pg-header" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>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 </span><a class="reference internal" href="#project-gutenberg-license">Project Gutenberg License</a><span> included with -this ebook or online at </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/license">http://www.gutenberg.org/license</a><span>. 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.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<div class="container" id="pg-machine-header"> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>Title: Edgar the Ready -<br /> A Tale of the Third Edward's Reign -<br /> -<br />Author: W. P. Shervill -<br /> -<br />Release Date: June 25, 2015 [EBook #49283] -<br /> -<br />Language: English -<br /> -<br />Character set encoding: UTF-8</span></p> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-start-line"><span>*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK </span><span>EDGAR THE READY</span><span> ***</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-produced-by"><span>Produced by Al Haines.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span></span></p> -</div> -<div class="container coverpage"> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 67%" id="figure-41"> -<span id="cover-art"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="Cover art" src="images/img-cover.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">Cover art</span></div> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<div class="container frontispiece"> -<p class="center pfirst" id="roland-was-savagely-attacking-him-in-his-turn"><span class="bold large">[Illustration: "ROLAND WAS SAVAGELY ATTACKING HIM IN HIS TURN" -<br />(missing from book)]</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<div class="container titlepage"> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold xx-large">Edgar the Ready</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="x-large">A Tale of the Third -<br />Edward's Reign</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">BY</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="large">W. P. SHERVILL</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics medium">Illustrated by Charles M. Sheldon</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">BLACKIE AND SON LIMITED -<br />LONDON GLASGOW AND BOMBAY -<br />1914</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">Contents</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><span class="small">CHAP.</span></p> -<ol class="upperroman simple"> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-gallant-sacrifice">A Gallant Sacrifice</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#an-ordeal-of-the-night">An Ordeal of the Night</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-castle-of-wolsingham">The Castle of Wolsingham</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-winning-of-peter">The Winning of Peter</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-fracas">The Fracas</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#sir-john-s-esquire">Sir John's Esquire</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#to-guienne">To Guienne</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-lists-of-bordeaux">The Lists of Bordeaux</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-encounter-with-sir-gervaise">The Encounter with Sir Gervaise</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#news-of-sir-john">News of Sir John</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#in-pursuit">In Pursuit</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#castle-ruthenes">Castle Ruthènes</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#prisoners">Prisoners</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-desperate-venture">A Desperate Venture</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#ill-news-at-bordeaux">Ill News at Bordeaux</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-new-quest">A New Quest</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-opening-of-the-attack">The Opening of the Attack</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-plight-of-beatrice">The Plight of Beatrice</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-assault">The Assault</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-last-hope">The Last Hope</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#through-the-darkness">Through the Darkness</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-last-of-ruthenes">The Last of Ruthènes</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#sir-john-s-choice">Sir John's Choice</a></p> -</li> -</ol> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">Illustrations</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#roland-was-savagely-attacking-him-in-his-turn">"Roland was savagely attacking him in his turn"</a><span> -(missing from book) . . . </span><em class="italics">Frontispiece</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#sir-gervaise-sprang-towards-his-adversary-thirsting-to-retrieve-his-fallen-fortunes">"Sir Gervaise sprang towards his adversary, -thirsting to retrieve his fallen fortunes"</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-torch-was-thrust-close-to-edgar-s-face">"A torch was thrust close to Edgar's face"</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-torch-fell-upon-the-bottom-steps-revealing-the-three-crouching-figures">"The torch fell upon the bottom steps, revealing -the three crouching figures"</a><span> (missing from book)</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#bah-these-walls-laugh-thee-and-thy-rabble-to-scorn">"'Bah! These walls laugh thee and thy rabble to scorn!'"</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#come-beatrice-i-will-strive-yet-to-save-thee">"'Come, Beatrice, I will strive yet to save thee'"</a><span> -(missing from book)</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-gallant-sacrifice"><span class="bold x-large">EDGAR THE READY</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER I</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">A Gallant Sacrifice</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Tis Red of Ordish!" whispered the lad. "He -is known and dreaded for leagues around. Fly for -thy life, Matthew--delay not!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will take four silver pennies, my young -springald," cried Red of Ordish, striding forward -and reaching out his great hand for the purse.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The lad retreated as though frightened, and -again fumbled as though unable to find the coins -he sought.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Goodbye, Sir John!' he said faintly. 'I am -gone. Leave me and renew the fight.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'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.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'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.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Richard, it is done. Right gladly will I.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'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.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'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.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ye say well, lad. I hope thou wilt be as good -as thy word. Now I will finish the story.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Aye,' said I.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Watch him well.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But are not crossbowmen equally to be feared?" -cried Edgar. "I have heard that their heavy bolts -can crash through the armour itself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What befell after the battle, Matthew?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What of that, lad? Red of Ordish and his -band had nae horses."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"None that we could see. But in some of the -tales I have heard both Red and his band were -mounted. Hearken now!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dim and distant, but unmistakable, sounded the -thud of horses' hoofs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Tis Red," muttered the lad at his first glimpse -of the foremost man, as he shrank back yet more -closely under cover.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The horsemen clattered noisily by and vanished -as quickly as they had come. For the time, at any -rate, the fugitives were safe.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What now, lad?" grumbled Matthew, as he -began to realize their sorry plight. "We cannot -take to the road again, I trow."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Darkness falls," quoth Matthew; "I think we -will rest the night here if the good man is not -unwilling."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="an-ordeal-of-the-night"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER II</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">An Ordeal of the Night</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Bewitched! Bewitched!</em><span>" 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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Shirt of mail</em><span>, Matthew, </span><em class="italics">shirt of mail!</em><span>"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Get me something wherewith to secure him, -Edgar," gasped Matthew. "Strips of clothing--anything, -lad."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At a single bound Matthew sprang halfway -through the window. Another moment and he -had dropped to the ground.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We have covered miles, Matthew, and are safe."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nay, let us ride on until our steeds are -exhausted. Mine is still as much master as I."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-castle-of-wolsingham"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER III</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">The Castle of Wolsingham</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Edgar bowed his thanks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ha! ha! Edgar," laughed Robert, "I should -love to hear thee make that declaration in the lady's -hearing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The very next day Edgar rode into London alone -and called upon Verillac.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wish to gain some skill in arms," he said, -opening the conversation with his usual directness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Gaspard gave his youthful visitor a keen glance. -"Thou hast already some skill in arms, if I mistake -not," he remarked quietly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But a little, I fear. I desire to learn much more."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thou art an esquire and no burgher's son," -said Gaspard as he put up his sword.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Edgar assented.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-winning-of-peter"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER IV</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">The Winning of Peter</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come, lad, let me take thee to thy home," said -Edgar gently. "These brutes shall molest thee no more."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tell me which is thy house. I will carry thee -and lay thee on thy bed."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They were rough-looking men, and stared fiercely, -albeit with some alarm, at the two figures perched -upon the window sill.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who are ye?" challenged one in a rough and -threatening tone. "Speak--what want ye?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Leave me behind, sir. Thou canst not escape -burdened with me. Seek thine own safety. What -need for both to perish?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sirrah, what is this?" cried the merchant hastily. -"What dost thou in my dwelling?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To seek aid. We are fugitives," panted Edgar.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"From the law? Come not to me for succour, -but begone!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come, sir," said Edgar, lifting himself upright. -"The cut-throats are even now stealing along yon -passage, and----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Canst not fetch aid?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thou shalt have the lanthorn. See thou -keep'st thy promise."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is all well within?" he called breathlessly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All is well," cried Edgar, coming forward.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Tis well. We are safe from attack now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did the ruffians molest thee?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-fracas"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER V</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">The Fracas</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Tiring of the fun, the armour was left lying -where it had fallen, and remained there until -Aymery and several of the esquires entered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Didst press thy claims to accompany him?" -enquired Aymery sourly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They need no pressing," responded Roland -haughtily. "And 'tis not </span><em class="italics">thy</em><span> claims I fear."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The boys looked at one another uneasily, and -then one more brazen than the rest replied coolly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why dost not look after thy property, Aymery? -Where didst leave it? Not with any of us, I'll -warrant."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Peter had evidently been told what was afoot, -for he went straight up to Aymery immediately -he entered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You want me, sir," he said quietly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I placed them not there," cried Peter, twisting -himself free. "I know nothing of it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Get thee gone, Wintour," cried Aymery recklessly. -"This is well-merited punishment, and -interfere thou shalt not."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Smite home, Aymery," cried Roland, thinking -his friend was giving back. "Smite home, or let -me have my fling at the braggart!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bah!" cried Roland, "if thou thinkest I care -for thy blows I will tear them off."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Suddenly the door opened and Geoffrey Fletcher -entered, followed by a couple of men-at-arms.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hold!" he cried. "Hold! Cease this brawling, -or ye shall cool your heels in the guardroom."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="sir-john-s-esquire"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VI</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">Sir John's Esquire</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But, Sir John----" began Aymery hotly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The three esquires murmured assent.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then, Geoffrey, remove the prisoners, and see -that my commands are obeyed."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir John paused for a moment and looked at -him thoughtfully, and Edgar, thinking something -required of him, murmured: "Thank you, Sir John."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Twas learned at Gaspard's, Sir John."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Gaspard's? And who is Gaspard?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ha, yes! He did mention it, but I paid no -heed. Didst not then feel satisfied with Sir Percy's -teaching?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ha! That sounds vastly to thy credit. And -dost win these bouts or dost lose?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I lose sometimes," replied Edgar evasively, -wishing the knight would not press the point so far.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nay, sir, I beg thou wilt not; 'twere scarce -seemly for esquire----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Edgar gave a start for sheer joy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will try so to do, Sir John."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Edgar's joy was so great that he could scarcely -collect his thoughts, but at last he managed to -stammer out his thanks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="to-guienne"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">To Guienne</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Edgar smiled and made as though to pass on -without speaking.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thou wilt not disobey," replied Edgar quietly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Maiden, do no such thing," cried Edgar, -quickly grasping the young girl's bridle as she -turned her steed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I would that the robbers would capture thee, -Edgar Wintour," cried Beatrice quickly, as she -galloped back to Gertrude's side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Edgar laughed, though somewhat ruefully, and -followed her example.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Never fear, thou shalt soon have opportunity -an thou dost desire it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Gervaise ground his teeth as he glanced -uneasily from Sir John to his esquire.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thou well knowest I can prove nothing, Sir -Gervaise, until I prove it on thy body. Wilt meet -me in single combat </span><em class="italics">à outrance</em><span>?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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 </span><em class="italics">à outrance</em><span>. -Thus only, when all are agog with expectation, -can we be sure that he will not disappoint us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Some three days before the date fixed for the -tourney, Peter drew Edgar aside.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I fear there is something afoot, Master Edgar, -that bodeth ill for someone."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, and what is that, Peter?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But to plunder whom?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sir John, I fear. Know'st thou if he hath -brought much money or valuables with him?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have not heard of it, and if </span><em class="italics">I</em><span> know not I see -not how others can have learned it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will, sir;" and Peter limped off with the air -of one setting about a task especially congenial to him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Enter," responded Edgar.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Peter entered, and from his heaving chest and -anxious face Edgar saw at once that something -had happened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is it, Peter?" he cried quickly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dost think those evilly-disposed men have had -aught to do with it, Master Edgar?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On arriving at the inn where the ladies Gertrude -and Beatrice were staying, Edgar found them still -up, anxiously awaiting news.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He hath not yet returned, then?" he cried, as -he saw their anxious faces.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No. Surely someone hath seen him?" cried -Gertrude in alarm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, Peter, didst find out aught?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nay, sir. None hath seen the two men of late, -so perchance they know naught of this matter, after -all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Peter nodded and retired, and Edgar flung himself -down just as he was, and almost instantly fell -into a deep slumber.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why did ye not call me, Peter?" he cried angrily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-lists-of-bordeaux"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VIII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">The Lists of Bordeaux</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have sent him upon an errand of great -import to me. Give me a hand and I will soon be -ready."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come hither, varlets, and gird on this armour. -Quickly, now, unless ye wish the Frenchmen to get -the better of us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rapidly the pieces of armour were strapped and -buckled on until Edgar stood complete, a wall of -shining steel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where is thy gage?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have none."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What? Hast thou no damsel to watch for -thine entry into the lists?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nay."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Arthur shrugged his shoulders in perplexity. -"Well, every man to his taste. Where is now -thy horse? Where dost stable it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Straight along the lines a furlong. Let the -youths bring the gear, and for the nonce I will -walk to it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know nothing of him," replied Edgar. "Is -he weak?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Weak! Thou wilt see. We have not thrown -thee away."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come, Arthur," cried one of the English -esquires impatiently, "thou art behindhand. Guy de -Parfrey hath marshalled his men, and awaits us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was but a slight pause, and then the -marshals gave the signal for the onset. And loud the -trumpets blared!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mount, Edgar! Mount and aid us!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come now, Edgar," cried Arthur exultingly, -"one more charge and the battle is ours. St. George -for England! On! on!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Side by side the two esquires rode down upon -their adversaries, who, wounded as they were, made -ready to meet them right gallantly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Suddenly the earl raised his hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Desist, desist!" he cried.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At a signal from the marshals the trumpets again -blared, and all knew that the conflict was at an end.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let the victors approach," commanded the earl, -and the four esquires cantered to the stand and -dismounted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not victory, Arthur. 'Tis an honourable draw."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-encounter-with-sir-gervaise"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER IX</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">The Encounter with Sir Gervaise</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hath any news good or ill reached you?" he -asked, as he took his place by their side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have done all that man could do," cried -Edgar, flushing deeply at the bitter rebuke.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sir John must be found," cried Beatrice, giving -a reckless stamp of her little foot.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Peter was awaiting him at his tent, his face -aflame with eagerness and excitement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Didst follow him?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I did; and I have learned both his name and -his haunts."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good! Say no more now, Peter, but call -Matthew, for other and starker work lieth before us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In a moment Matthew appeared.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ha," cried Matthew joyously, "then thou hast -news of Sir John!" and he hurried off to do the -esquire's bidding.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, Peter," cried Edgar, flinging off his outer -garments, "aid me to don Sir John's armour--quickly, -lad, on thy life!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But Sir John----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">I</em><span> 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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Speechless with amazement, Peter strapped and -buckled with might and main, and Edgar was -almost ready when Matthew entered for the horse's -trappings.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wilt take thine own weapons?" enquired Peter -presently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And for gage? Wilt wear the lady Gertrude's -colours?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He hath come!" cried Gertrude, tense with -excitement, the instant horse and man appeared in the -lists.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Beatrice followed her gaze, and for one instant -joyfully agreed. Then she began to doubt.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nay, nay, Gertrude, this cannot be Sir John. -Where are thy colours?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He hath had no time----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But why should----?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Gertrude answered not, and both maidens sat -still and held their breaths as the stirring scenes -passed before their gaze.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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: "</span><em class="italics">Laissez aller</em><span>".</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 62%" id="figure-42"> -<span id="sir-gervaise-sprang-towards-his-adversary-thirsting-to-retrieve-his-fallen-fortunes"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=""SIR GERVAISE SPRANG TOWARDS HIS ADVERSARY, THIRSTING TO RETRIEVE HIS FALLEN FORTUNES"" src="images/img-113.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">"SIR GERVAISE SPRANG TOWARDS HIS ADVERSARY, THIRSTING -<br />TO RETRIEVE HIS FALLEN FORTUNES"</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A dull roar of applause arose from the whole -circle of the lists.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dropping his axe, Edgar snatched his dagger -from his belt and sprang towards the fallen man. -Kneeling upon his chest he cried aloud:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yield thee vanquished, Sir Gervaise de Maupas!" Then -in a low voice, but in tones thrilling -with resolve, he went on, "</span><em class="italics">Tell me where Sir John -if, or thy life is forfeit!</em><span>"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was no response.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="news-of-sir-john"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER X</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">News of Sir John</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The man cowered before the knight's pallid face -and gleaming eyes. "There is some mistake," he -stammered, "I----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bah! Scoundrel! That is but a tale--another -lie--to save thy wretched neck from the gallows."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Give me leave to find out the knight's name, -my lord," interrupted Baulch in an eager voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With trembling lips the man hastily promised -to find out the truth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have news, my lord--strange news. Whether -'twill please thee or not, I cannot say, but----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Peace, knave! Tell thy news and madden me -not with thy thoughts of what pleases me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Edgar Wintour--and who is Edgar Wintour?" -cried the knight with savage impatience.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He is Sir John's esquire."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What!" he thundered. "Dare ye tell me that----?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I understand, my lord."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then begone."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, he lives at a low inn in the lowest and -most rascally quarter of the town."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After a short delay the door opened, and one of -the most villainous-looking men Edgar had ever -set eyes on made his appearance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tell me where is Sir John Chartris, or thou -shall die."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The man gasped with amazement and fear, and -cried hastily: "At Ruthènes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where is this Ruthènes?" cried Edgar quickly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We will have thee yet, Edgar Wintour," he -cried exultingly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="in-pursuit"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XI</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">In Pursuit</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dost wish me to tell Sir John's ladies that thou -art come?" he asked presently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nay, I will spend the night before this fire, and -speak to them early in the morning. Tell me when -ye hear them stirring."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hast learned aught?" he cried as soon as -Edgar opened his eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then we are on the right track," cried Edgar -joyfully. "Now we must find where Ruthènes is. -Call mine host."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thank thee, maiden. I will try to remember -thy counsels," replied Edgar, with a slight smile.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But what are we to tell those who enquire for -my father?" cried Gertrude.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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 </span><em class="italics">en route</em><span> to rejoin Sir John Chartris.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Doubtless 'tis to visit the castle, and not us -poor villagers, that ye are come," said the priest -quietly, after a few minutes' pause.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are ye for us or against us?" asked the priest -suddenly, fixing a pair of steady grey eyes upon -Edgar.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know not what ye mean," said Edgar uncomfortably.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I mean, are ye for the downtrodden and oppressed, -or do ye uphold those who grind and ill-use -the weak and helpless?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Certainly not the latter," cried Edgar quickly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is this cause of which ye speak?" asked -Edgar warily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am not. 'Tis but three days since I heard -his name for the first time."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The country folk would then like to be rid of -Sir Eustace?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>[#] 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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Undoubtedly," murmured Edgar, nodding his -head in agreement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, yes," replied Edgar in a soothing tone. -"Doubtless the leaders ye need will be forthcoming -when the time comes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="castle-ruthenes"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">Castle Ruthènes</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Struck by the gloomy, unhealthy look of the -castle, Edgar could not help exclaiming in a voice -of deep concern:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope not, Master Edgar. But we must hasten -the more to release him, though how 'tis to be done -I know not."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Peter nodded in agreement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By a ladder?" queried Peter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But could we fling scabbard and rope to the -summit of the wall from the distance of the edge -of the moat?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"When did this man arrive?" asked Edgar quickly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"On the morning of the day of your arrival--that -is, yesterday."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Canst describe him to me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is he," murmured Edgar half to himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who? Whom dost mean? Dost know the -man?" cried the priest sharply.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Can he know that thou art here?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think not; but one cannot be sure, and he -will guess that I would not remain idle."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No. I must make enquiries and obtain one."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will do so for thee. Thou wilt only arouse -suspicion and make folk talk. Leave it to me, -Sir Squire."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Draw up and coil the rope, Peter. We must -take it with us, for doubtless we shall need it 'gainst -our return."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Peter silently obeyed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Forward, Peter," he whispered; "Black Eustace -and his men are asleep, I verily believe."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 61%" id="figure-43"> -<span id="a-torch-was-thrust-close-to-edgar-s-face"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=""A TORCH WAS THRUST CLOSE TO EDGAR'S FACE"" src="images/img-152.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">"A TORCH WAS THRUST CLOSE TO EDGAR'S FACE"</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is! It is! This is none other than that -braggart esquire of whom I told thee, Eustace."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Tis a poor thing to make merry at thy prisoners' -expense," replied Edgar shortly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="prisoners"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XIII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">Prisoners</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nay, unless we can reach up to the grating by -standing on one another's shoulders."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"With these shackles? I fear there is little hope -there, unless we can first rid ourselves of these -irons."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let us try--but hush, Master Edgar, someone -approaches. I hear footsteps in the passage -outside."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Lucky indeed," replied Edgar in a tone of -weary indifference; "but can thine other prisoner -spare the rugs?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the sight of him Edgar involuntarily sprang -to his feet, dominated for the moment by feelings -of anger and excitement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is Sir John's life, too, that thou art casting -away like a fool," cried De Maupas angrily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A malignant look flamed up on the knight's face, -and Edgar knew that he had judged his plans and -motives aright.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Never will I cringe to thee, Gervaise de Maupas," -cried Edgar hotly, returning him look for look.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-desperate-venture"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XIV</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">A Desperate Venture</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Didst hear what sounded like distant cries -while the door stood open, Peter?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Aye, sir, what wouldst do? Tear it down and -use it as a weapon?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They have taken our ropes," observed Peter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Listen, Peter, and tell me what ye think."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He then turned to Duprez.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A few words--no more. But they may spell -life to thee."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ask."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where is Sir John Chartris?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The other prisoner--the man who came a week -agone?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, a man of knightly bearing, aged some -forty years."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He is in this donjon, in a room near Sir -Eustace. He was in one of these cells but a few -hours since."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah! Tell me how I may reach this room."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sullenly the man obeyed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"These keys at thy belt. Which is the key of -Sir John's room?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sir John, Sir John," cried Edgar breathlessly, -"we are come to set thee free! Canst bear to be -lifted, my lord?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Whither shall I lead?" whispered Peter, as he -opened the door and prepared to issue forth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dare we ascend the walls with Sir John in such -sore plight, Master Edgar?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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. </span><em class="italics">Laissez -aller</em><span>! On! on! Good steed--stout lance--do thy -devoir. Hah! De Maupas, thou art down--yield -thee----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thou art mine still!" he shouted madly over -his shoulder. "Dearly shalt thou pay for thine -insolence!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But why to our dungeons? Dost desire only to -sell our lives as dearly as possible?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But surely there will be gates to either end -which we must pass?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<blockquote id="the-torch-fell-upon-the-bottom-steps-revealing-the-three-crouching-figures"> -<div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">[Illustration: THE TORCH FELL UPON THE BOTTOM STEPS, -<br />REVEALING THE THREE CROUCHING FIGURES. -<br />(missing from book)]</span></p> -</div> -</blockquote> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Tis the drawbridge, Peter," he cried. "Where -are we now?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"At the top of the trunk of a hollow tree, Master -Edgar. We are in the woods."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="ill-news-at-bordeaux"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XV</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">Ill News at Bordeaux</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shall we make for the innhouse?" enquired Peter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who seeks Father Armand at this late hour?" -he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you, good father! But the knight is -sick, and I fear 'twill be bad indeed for him to -lie abroad in the woods."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Warmly Edgar thanked the priest for his kindness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Peace, brother!" said the priest quietly. -"Where hast stabled the horses?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yonder," replied the man, pointing to another -similar cave a few yards away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hark!" he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope there hath been no bloodshed," said -Edgar earnestly, when the silence of the priest had -become almost insupportable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When he had finished, Sir John gave so deep -a sigh of relief that Edgar could not help looking -at him with some astonishment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah! sir----" cried the landlord. Then he -stopped and stared uncomfortably from Edgar to -Sir John and back again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is it, man?" cried Sir John, with sudden -apprehension. "Doth aught ail them? Which is -it? Speak!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, my lord, 'tis not the lady Gertrude--she is -above. 'Tis the lady Beatrice."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah! But what has chanced? Canst not speak? -Is she dead?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At this piece of news Edgar and Peter exchanged -glances full of anxious significance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did he ever describe the man, Mistress Gertrude?" -asked Edgar.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The missing clues I think we can supply, Sir -John," said Edgar, "though I greatly fear they -will in no wise lessen our apprehensions."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ye know, then, this man that Matthew had -seen before?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, he is a man we believe to be in league -with thine enemy, Sir Gervaise de Maupas."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is it, Father, what is it?" cried Gertrude -anxiously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then ye think Beatrice hath been taken to -Ruthènes?" said Sir John, after a long and painful -pause.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I am sure of it. She must have arrived -there soon after we escaped."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am ready and more than ready to try, Sir John."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can start at once, Sir John. All I want is a -little money, some food for the journey, and another -mount."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-new-quest"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XVI</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">A New Quest</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hath not Edgar then----?" began Gertrude, -opening her eyes in amaze.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Gertrude," cried Sir John, with a touch of sternness, -"there is some mystery here. Tell me what -it may mean. Delay not, girl."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What!" interrupted Sir John at this point. -"Personate me! But surely not in the combat -in the lists?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, yes, in the lists. 'Twas to save thine -honour, and to punish Sir Gervaise."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Edgar will surely be sorry. He will think thou -art flinging away the fruits of his victory."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"May God keep him out of the hands of De -Maupas!" replied Gertrude feelingly; and Sir John -echoed her words with deepest emphasis.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tread silently, Peter, and keep a vigilant watch. -I would not that any saw us, especially of those -belonging to the castle."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Peter looked up quickly. "Mean you to----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He is away from the village," replied the man, -eyeing them narrowly. "What want ye the good -father for?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We desire a few words with him," replied -Edgar. "It is most important. Canst not fetch -him or take us to him?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The man shook his head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perchance he is at the cave," suggested Edgar -quietly. "If so, we will go ourselves, for he hath -told us the way."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sir Squire," he cried eagerly, "doth thy return -mean that thou art----?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A roar of applause rose as the priest paused -for a moment and placed his hand on Edgar's -shoulder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nay, good Father, let us hold council of war. -Nothing will be lost by waiting an hour or so."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Moving to the entrance of the cave the priest, -Edgar, and Peter took counsel together.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ha! Where pasture they the cattle?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"At a field a short way along the road in the -opposite direction to the village."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-opening-of-the-attack"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XVII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">The Opening of the Attack</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The guard waxes stronger every day," said -the priest meaningly. "They must, I fear, have -an inkling of what is afoot."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Edgar nodded. "It may only be an inkling," -he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hark!" suddenly cried one of the men, raising -his hand in the air.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the grim, heart-shaking spectacle, Edgar felt -his men involuntarily check their speed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Rally, men, and charge the tyrants!" he cried -loudly, and, echoing his words, his men recovered -their nerve and pressed along after him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-plight-of-beatrice"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XVIII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">The Plight of Beatrice</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Brood of vipers--who commands?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Edgar looked at the priest, who motioned him -to reply.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Father Armand and I, Edgar Wintour, esquire -of Wolsingham, command."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ha! Thy cleverness, Sir Squire, is already -outmatched. Hours ago a messenger left this -castle to seek aid."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He is our prisoner, Sir Eustace."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Gulping down his rage with an effort, the knight -replied in a calmer tone:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What meanest thou? What wantest thou? Speak!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We want thy surrender----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bah! These walls laugh thee and thy rabble -to scorn. Do thy worst, Master Squire. Here is -our first greeting."</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 61%" id="figure-44"> -<span id="bah-these-walls-laugh-thee-and-thy-rabble-to-scorn"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=""'BAH! THESE WALLS LAUGH THEE AND THY RABBLE TO SCORN!'"" src="images/img-225.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">"'BAH! THESE WALLS LAUGH THEE AND THY RABBLE TO SCORN!'"</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We cannot assault the castle yet?" said the -priest to Edgar enquiringly. "There must be -preparations?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, that is so."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It will indeed. I will see to it, Sir Squire."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What wouldst do then?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The men shall be found," cried the priest -exultingly. "Our cause advances. I believe that -Heaven will give us the victory."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What meaneth this?" she cried out at last in -indignation and distress. "Where are you taking -me, and with what purpose?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A stolid silence, broken only by the trampling of -the steeds, met her cry.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>More alarmed still, if possible, by the silence of -her captors, Beatrice dragged desperately at her -bridle and made her horse plunge violently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was Sir Gervaise de Maupas.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thou!" she cried, in a voice in which anger, -scorn, and fear all had a place.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Love for me? What dost mean, sir?" cried -Beatrice roundly, though for all her boldness her -limbs trembled beneath her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where is he?" cried Beatrice breathlessly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He is here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In this castle?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In this castle, lady."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How is it named?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Oh!</em><span>"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The name seemeth familiar," he said coolly. -"Perchance Sir John's hot-headed esquire, Edgar -Wintour, hath mentioned it to thee?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is he then also a prisoner in this castle?" she -asked after a pause, during which she managed to -regain a semblance of composure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Beatrice waited for some minutes for De Maupas -to finish, but he seemed to have forgotten her -existence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Doubtless the lady Beatrice gladly welcometh -thy suit, friend De Maupas?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Their fate? Spies and enemies of my beloved -France? They must die," replied De Brin instantly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>De Brin slowly paced the length of the room and -back again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hearest thou, Beatrice? Wilt thou----?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Didst hear?" said De Maupas laconically.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-assault"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XIX</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">The Assault</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So soon?" enquired the priest in surprise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Say on, then, Sir Squire. Thy counsel hath -been good hitherto, and I am most ready to listen. -What is next to be done?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, yes; I thought that would be the next move."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ha! but will not the wheels of thy ram sink -into the filled-in moat and there stick fast?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Aye, I think so too. And now let us to work, -and make ready as quickly as we can."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hang not back, men," cried Edgar with energy. -"Press forward the more quickly and our task will -be the sooner ended. Forward!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Peter was now almost himself again, and seeing -that entry by the main gateway was effectually -barred for a time, cried excitedly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-last-hope"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XX</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">The Last Hope</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, the castle is being battered down!" cried -Jeannette in alarm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hist, mistress--someone is at the door!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He appeared to be labouring under great excitement, -for his bearing was nervous and his looks -were disordered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a moment Beatrice covered her face with her -hands, as though the thought appalled her. Then -she answered bravely:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Beatrice stopped suddenly, for loud insistent -shouts for De Maupas rang within the donjon and -outside in the castle courtyard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The gates are down, Mistress Beatrice!" the -maid cried in a voice shrill with excitement. "See, -the defenders are gathering thickly in the breach."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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----?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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----</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="come-beatrice-i-will-strive-yet-to-save-thee"><span class="bold large">[Illustration: "'COME, BEATRICE, I WILL STRIVE YET TO SAVE THEE.'" -<br />(missing from book)</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the dread sound, Jeannette gave a scream of -terror and almost collapsed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hush!" cried Edgar sharply. "Dost wish to -bring them upon us? Be silent as the tomb, or we -are lost."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Canst not hew down the door?" cried Peter, as -Edgar hesitated for a moment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is it?" cried Edgar, turning as he was -about to advance towards the enemy now almost -at the foot of the stone stairway.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The door is open!" cried Peter in an awed -tone. "I fear a trap!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="through-the-darkness"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXI</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">Through the Darkness</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bruyard! Ho, there! Bruyard!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After a moment's pause, a muffled voice replied:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who calleth?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"De Maupas. Come hither!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is it ye want, Sir Knight?" he asked surlily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hast locked the door?" asked De Maupas impatiently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nay, I have not. What need, if the enemy is -driven off?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is this?" asked De Maupas. "Who set -ye on to this, and for what purpose?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The effect was electrical.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If thou wilt promise to let them ride hence in -peace, I will yield them up," replied Edgar quickly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bah!" cried De Brin. "Thou hast yet to learn -how completely thou art trapped. Let this teach thee!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nay, 'tis worse even than that, Beatrice," -replied Edgar solemnly. "They have hurled down -stones and walled us in."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Was yon great chest the obstruction? Didst open it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nay, I would not stop. Shall I go batter it in?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How stifling is this passage, Edgar!" cried -Beatrice appealingly. "The heat is becoming -dreadful. Whence cometh it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hark!" exclaimed Beatrice suddenly. "Surely -that is the sound of knocking I hear above my head?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Both men ceased talking and listened intently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They are----" he began.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hush!" whispered Edgar warningly, turning -away and again leaning head and arms on the haft -of his great axe.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I doubt it not," replied Edgar in a breaking -voice. "But can I bring thee to such a pass and -see thee perish unmoved?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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. -</span><em class="italics">I</em><span> reproach thee not."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What hast thou there, Peter?" eagerly asked -Edgar, in whose mind a suspicion of the truth had -already begun to dawn.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know not. 'Tis a handful of black grains, of -which the chest seems full."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>[#] Gunpowder was used at Crécy shortly afterwards. -It had, of course, -been used in battle by the Venetians years before.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What doth it here?" asked Peter, glancing at -the chest with sudden awe.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wilt yield thee now, braggart esquire?" rang -out the stentorian voice of De Brin, high above the -crackling of the fires.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Doubtless--an he gets the chance," answered -De Maupas with a loud laugh of derision.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Beatrice! Beatrice!" shouted Edgar loudly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Here--I am safe--but in sore distress," came -the reply, and with a cry of triumph Edgar sprang -to her side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where is Father Armand?" cried Edgar -quickly. "Fear not--we are flesh and blood. -Take us to Father Armand--if he still lives."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That dread noise and quaking of the earth -was it then thy doing?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-last-of-ruthenes"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">The Last of Ruthènes</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When the news of their approaching departure -was told to Father Armand he showed much concern.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What act is that, Father? The castle is now -razed to the ground, and all seemeth already over."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently Father Armand began to refer to their -visitors' approaching departure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wilt thou stay with Gertrude in Bordeaux or -travel to Faucigny, Beatrice?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah--then I fear I shall have to bid you all a -long adieu."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why--what meanest thou? Thou must come, -of course."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As they drew near, the foremost slackened speed -and, addressing Edgar, cried:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who art thou and what is thine errand?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am Edgar Wintour, esquire to Sir John -Chartris. I and my party are riding into Bordeaux."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Walter frowned and growled an inarticulate -reply.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am not ashamed," he said, with a touch of -haughtiness. "What I did seemed for the best, -and who can do more?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We must see about that," responded the earl, -quite unmoved. "Dismount, Sir Squire."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bow thy head," he cried peremptorily, and his -sword flashed from its sheath. Rapidly but gently -it fell upon Edgar's shoulder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is that all?" asked Beatrice, raising her -eyebrows in indifference.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is it--is it nothing to thee, then?" he stammered, -after an awkward pause.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why should it be, Sir Edgar?" asked Beatrice -easily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What thou hast done for me, thou meanest? -Thou shalt be paid."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Paid!" almost shouted Edgar. "Not one groat -will I accept. How can'st think of such a thing, -Beatrice?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dost scorn payment, Edgar? Mayhap thou -wilt one day be glad to accept what ye now so -scorn."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dost then look forward to warring all thy -days?" asked Beatrice, a look of trouble coming -into her face for the first time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The following day they arrived at Bordeaux.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="sir-john-s-choice"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXIII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">Sir John's Choice</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Edgar bowed slightly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But, Sir John----" stammered Beatrice in hot amaze.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Be silent, maid!" cried Sir John angrily. -"Wouldst dare to oppose thy wishes against the -considered judgment of thy guardian?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who is this knight, then?" she cried in a stifled -voice, turning again towards Sir John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He is a knight of some fame. One, moreover, -of sober and godly habits."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But who is he?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Think not that I will allow thee to question -my----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Torture me not, Sir John!" cried Beatrice -vehemently. "Who is he?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Tis Sir Edgar Wintour, Beatrice."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Oh!</em><span>"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Darest thou oppose my will, Beatrice?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For some moments there was silence, and then -Sir John repeated his question, for Beatrice had -turned away and was toying with her brooch.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dost oppose my will, Beatrice?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It would grieve me to disobey thee, Sir John," -she said at length, in a tone of dutiful submission.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Beatrice subdued her resentment as best she -could, and replied demurely:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mayhap he is better than De Maupas."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"De Maupas! Canst say no more than that, -Beatrice?" cried Edgar, breaking in impetuously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="small">PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN -<br /></span><em class="italics small">At the Villafield Press, Glasgow, Scotland</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 6em"> -</div> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="backmatter"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst" id="pg-end-line"><span>*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK </span><span>EDGAR THE READY</span><span> ***</span></p> -<div class="cleardoublepage"> -</div> -<div class="language-en level-2 pgfooter section" id="a-word-from-project-gutenberg" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<span id="pg-footer"></span><h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><span>A Word from Project Gutenberg</span></h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span>We will update this book if we find any errors.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This book can be found under: </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/49283"><span>http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/49283</span></a></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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™ -electronic works to protect the Project Gutenberg™ concept and -trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be -used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific -permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, -complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for -nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away – you may do practically </span><em class="italics">anything</em><span> in the United States with -eBooks not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject -to the trademark license, especially commercial redistribution.</span></p> -<div class="level-3 section" id="the-full-project-gutenberg-license"> -<span id="project-gutenberg-license"></span><h3 class="level-3 pfirst section-title title"><span>The Full Project Gutenberg License</span></h3> -<p class="pfirst"><em class="italics">Please read this before you distribute or use this work.</em></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at -</span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/license">http://www.gutenberg.org/license</a><span>.</span></p> -<div class="level-4 section" id="section-1-general-terms-of-use-redistributing-project-gutenberg-electronic-works"> -<h4 class="level-4 pfirst section-title title"><span>Section 1. General Terms of Use & Redistributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works</span></h4> -<p class="pfirst"><strong class="bold">1.A.</strong><span> By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by -the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person -or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.B.</strong><span> “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement -and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ electronic -works. See paragraph 1.E below.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.C.</strong><span> The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the -Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting free -access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ works -in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the Project -Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily comply with -the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the same format -with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when you share it -without charge with others.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.D.</strong><span> The copyright laws of the place where you are located also -govern what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most -countries are in a constant state of change. If you are outside the -United States, check the laws of your country in addition to the terms -of this agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.</strong><span> Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.1.</strong><span> The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work -on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the -phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed:</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>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 </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org">http://www.gutenberg.org</a><span> . 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.</span></p> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst"><strong class="bold">1.E.2.</strong><span> If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg™ -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.3.</strong><span> If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is -posted with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and -distribution must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and -any additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works posted -with the permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of -this work.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.4.</strong><span> Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project -Gutenberg™ License terms from this work, or any files containing a -part of this work or any other work associated with Project -Gutenberg™.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.5.</strong><span> Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute -this electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg™ License.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.6.</strong><span> You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format other -than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ web site -(</span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org">http://www.gutenberg.org</a><span>), you must, at no additional cost, fee or -expense to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a -means of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original -“Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include -the full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.7.</strong><span> Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.8.</strong><span> You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works provided -that</span></p> -<ul class="open"> -<li><p class="first pfirst"><span>You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from -the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method you -already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed to -the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has agreed to -donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid within 60 -days following each date on which you prepare (or are legally -required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty payments -should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in Section 4, -“Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation.”</span></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first pfirst"><span>You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies -you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he -does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ -License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all -copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue -all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ -works.</span></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first pfirst"><span>You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of -any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the -electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of -receipt of the work.</span></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first pfirst"><span>You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free -distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works.</span></p> -</li> -</ul> -<p class="pfirst"><strong class="bold">1.E.9.</strong><span> If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3. below.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.F.</strong></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.F.1.</strong><span> Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend -considerable effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe -and proofread works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating -the Project Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works, and the medium on which they may be -stored, may contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, -incomplete, inaccurate or corrupt data, transcription errors, a -copyright or other intellectual property infringement, a defective or -damaged disk or other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that -damage or cannot be read by your equipment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.F.2.</strong><span> LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES – Except for the -“Right of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the -Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the -Project Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a -Project Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.F.3.</strong><span> LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND – If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.F.4.</strong><span> Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set -forth in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS,’ WITH -NO OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.F.5.</strong><span> Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.F.6.</strong><span> INDEMNITY – You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, -the trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in accordance -with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any -Defect you cause.</span></p> -</div> -<div class="level-4 section" id="section-2-information-about-the-mission-of-project-gutenberg"> -<h4 class="level-4 pfirst section-title title"><span>Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™</span></h4> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™'s -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will remain -freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future generations. To -learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and -how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 and the -Foundation web page at </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.pglaf.org">http://www.pglaf.org</a><span> .</span></p> -</div> -<div class="level-4 section" id="section-3-information-about-the-project-gutenberg-literary-archive-foundation"> -<h4 class="level-4 pfirst section-title title"><span>Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation</span></h4> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at -</span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf">http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf</a><span> . Contributions to the -Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to -the full extent permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email </span><a class="reference external" href="mailto:business@pglaf.org">business@pglaf.org</a><span>. Email -contact links and up to date contact information can be found at the -Foundation's web site and official page at </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.pglaf.org">http://www.pglaf.org</a></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For additional contact information:</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span>Dr. Gregory B. Newby</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>Chief Executive and Director</span></div> -<div class="line"><a class="reference external" href="mailto:gbnewby@pglaf.org">gbnewby@pglaf.org</a></div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -</div> -<div class="level-4 section" id="section-4-information-about-donations-to-the-project-gutenberg-literary-archive-foundation"> -<h4 class="level-4 pfirst section-title title"><span>Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation</span></h4> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without wide spread -public support and donations to carry out its mission of increasing -the number of public domain and licensed works that can be freely -distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest array of -equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations ($1 to -$5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt status -with the IRS.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate">http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate</a></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate">http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate</a></p> -</div> -<div class="level-4 section" id="section-5-general-information-about-project-gutenberg-electronic-works"> -<h4 class="level-4 pfirst section-title title"><span>Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works.</span></h4> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg™ -concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared -with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project -Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's -eBook number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII, -compressed (zipped), HTML and others.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Corrected </span><em class="italics">editions</em><span> of our eBooks replace the old file and take over -the old filename and etext number. The replaced older file is -renamed. </span><em class="italics">Versions</em><span> based on separate sources are treated as new -eBooks receiving new filenames and etext numbers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility:</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org">http://www.gutenberg.org</a></p> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst"><span>This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg™, including -how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive -Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to subscribe -to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.</span></p> -</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> -</body> -</html> |