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+Produced by An Anonymous Project Gutenberg Volunteer
+
+
+
+
+
+SIR NIGEL
+
+By Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
+
+
+
+
+CONTENT
+
+
+
+     I. THE HOUSE OF LORING
+
+     II. HOW THE DEVIL CAME TO WAVERLEY
+
+     III. THE YELLOW HORSE OF CROOKSBURY
+
+     IV. HOW THE SUMMONER CAME TO THE MANOR HOUSE OF TILFORD
+
+     V. HOW NIGEL WAS TRIED BY THE ABBOT OF WAVERLEY
+
+     VI. IN WHICH LADY ERMYNTRUDE OPENS THE IRON COFFER
+
+     VII. HOW NIGEL WENT MARKETING TO GUILFORD
+
+     VIII. HOW THE KING HAWKED ON CROOKSBURY HEATH
+
+     IX. HOW NIGEL HELD THE BRIDGE AT TILFORD
+
+     X. HOW THE KING GREETED HIS SENESCHAL OF CALAIS
+
+     XI. IN THE HALL OF THE KNIGHT OF DUPLIN
+
+     XII. HOW NIGEL FOUGHT THE TWISTED MAN OF SHALFORD
+
+     XIII. HOW THE COMRADES JOURNEYED DOWN THE OLD, OLD ROAD
+
+     XIV. HOW NIGEL CHASED THE RED FERRET
+
+     XV. HOW THE RED FERRET CAME TO COSFORD
+
+     XVI. HOW THE KING'S COURT FEASTED IN CALAIS CASTLE
+
+     XVII. THE SPANIARDS ON THE SEA
+
+     XVIII. HOW BLACK SIMON CLAIMED FORFEIT FROM THE KING OF SARK
+
+     XIX. HOW A SQUIRE OF ENGLAND MET A SQUIRE OF FRANCE
+
+     XX. HOW THE ENGLISH ATTEMPTED THE CASTLE OF LA BROHINIERE
+
+     XXI. HOW THE SECOND MESSENGER WENT TO COSFORD
+
+     XXII. HOW ROBERT OF BEAUMANOIR CAME TO FLOERMEL
+
+     XXIII. HOW THIRTY OF JOSSELIN ENCOUNTERED THIRTY OF FLOERMEL
+
+     XXIV. HOW NIGEL WAS CALLED TO HIS MASTER
+
+     XXV. HOW THE KING OF FRANCE HELD COUNSEL AT MAUPERTUIS
+
+     XXVI. HOW NIGEL FOUND HIS THIRD DEED
+
+     XXVII. HOW THE THIRD MESSENGER CAME TO COSFORD
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION
+
+
+Dame History is so austere a lady that if one, has been so ill-advised
+as to take a liberty with her, one should hasten to make amends by
+repentance and confession. Events have been transposed to the extent of
+some few months in this narrative in order to preserve the continuity
+and evenness of the story. I hope so small a divergence may seem a
+venial error after so many centuries. For the rest, it is as accurate as
+a good deal of research and hard work could make it.
+
+The matter of diction is always a question of taste and discretion in a
+historical reproduction. In the year 1350 the upper classes still spoke
+Norman-French, though they were just beginning to condescend to English.
+The lower classes spoke the English of the original Piers Plowman text,
+which would be considerably more obscure than their superiors' French if
+the two were now reproduced or imitated. The most which the chronicles
+can do is to catch the cadence and style of their talk, and to infuse
+here and there such a dash of the archaic as may indicate their fashion
+of speech.
+
+I am aware that there are incidents which may strike the modern reader
+as brutal and repellent. It is useless, however, to draw the Twentieth
+Century and label it the Fourteenth. It was a sterner age, and men's
+code of morality, especially in matters of cruelty, was very different.
+There is no incident in the text for which very good warrant may not be
+given. The fantastic graces of Chivalry lay upon the surface of life,
+but beneath it was a half-savage population, fierce and animal, with
+little ruth or mercy. It was a raw, rude England, full of elemental
+passions, and redeemed only by elemental virtues. Such I have tried to
+draw it.
+
+For good or bad, many books have gone to the building of this one. I
+look round my study table and I survey those which lie with me at the
+moment, before I happily disperse them forever. I see La Croix's
+"Middle Ages," Oman's "Art of War," Rietstap's "Armorial General," De la
+Borderie's "Histoire de Bretagne," Dame Berner's "Boke of St. Albans,"
+"The Chronicle of Jocelyn of Brokeland," "The Old Road," Hewitt's
+"Ancient Armour," Coussan's "Heraldry," Boutell's "Arms," Browne's
+"Chaucer's England," Cust's "Scenes of the Middle Ages," Husserand's
+"Wayfaring Life," Ward's "Canterbury Pilgrims;" Cornish's "Chivalry,"
+Hastings' "British Archer," Strutt's "Sports," Johnes Froissart,
+Hargrove's "Archery," Longman's "Edward III," Wright's "Domestic
+Manners." With these and many others I have lived for months. If I have
+been unable to combine and transfer their effect, the fault is mine.
+
+ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE.
+
+"UNDERSHAW," November 30, 1905.
+
+
+
+
+I. THE HOUSE OF LORING
+
+
+In the month of July of the year 1348, between the feasts of St.
+Benedict and of St. Swithin, a strange thing came upon England, for out
+of the east there drifted a monstrous cloud, purple and piled, heavy
+with evil, climbing slowly up the hushed heaven. In the shadow of that
+strange cloud the leaves drooped in the trees, the birds ceased their
+calling, and the cattle and the sheep gathered cowering under the
+hedges. A gloom fell upon all the land, and men stood with their eyes
+upon the strange cloud and a heaviness upon their hearts. They crept
+into the churches where the trembling people were blessed and shriven by
+the trembling priests. Outside no bird flew, and there came no rustling
+from the woods, nor any of the homely sounds of Nature. All was still,
+and nothing moved, save only the great cloud which rolled up and onward,
+with fold on fold from the black horizon. To the west was the light
+summer sky, to the east this brooding cloud-bank, creeping ever slowly
+across, until the last thin blue gleam faded away and the whole vast
+sweep of the heavens was one great leaden arch.
+
+Then the rain began to fall. All day it rained, and all the night
+and all the week and all the month, until folk had forgotten the blue
+heavens and the gleam of the sunshine. It was not heavy, but it was
+steady and cold and unceasing, so that the people were weary of its
+hissing and its splashing, with the slow drip from the eaves. Always the
+same thick evil cloud flowed from east to west with the rain beneath
+it. None could see for more than a bow-shot from their dwellings for the
+drifting veil of the rain-storms. Every morning the folk looked upward
+for a break, but their eyes rested always upon the same endless cloud,
+until at last they ceased to look up, and their hearts despaired of
+ever seeing the change. It was raining at Lammas-tide and raining at the
+Feast of the Assumption and still raining at Michaelmas. The crops and
+the hay, sodden and black, had rotted in the fields, for they were not
+worth the garnering. The sheep had died, and the calves also, so there
+was little to kill when Martinmas came and it was time to salt the meat
+for the winter. They feared a famine, but it was worse than famine which
+was in store for them.
+
+For the rain had ceased at last, and a sickly autumn sun shone upon
+a land which was soaked and sodden with water. Wet and rotten leaves
+reeked and festered under the foul haze which rose from the woods.
+The fields were spotted with monstrous fungi of a size and color never
+matched before--scarlet and mauve and liver and black. It was as though
+the sick earth had burst into foul pustules; mildew and lichen mottled
+the walls, and with that filthy crop Death sprang also from the
+water-soaked earth. Men died, and women and children, the baron of the
+castle, the franklin on the farm, the monk in the abbey and the villein
+in his wattle-and-daub cottage. All breathed the same polluted reek and
+all died the same death of corruption. Of those who were stricken none
+recovered, and the illness was ever the same--gross boils, raving, and
+the black blotches which gave its name to the disease. All through the
+winter the dead rotted by the wayside for want of some one to bury them.
+In many a village no single man was left alive. Then at last the spring
+came with sunshine and health and lightness and laughter--the greenest,
+sweetest, tenderest spring that England had ever known--but only half
+of England could know it. The other half had passed away with the great
+purple cloud.
+
+Yet it was there in that stream of death, in that reek of corruption,
+that the brighter and freer England was born. There in that dark hour
+the first streak of the new dawn was seen. For in no way save by a great
+upheaval and change could the nation break away from that iron feudal
+system which held her limbs. But now it was a new country which came out
+from that year of death. The barons were dead in swaths. No high turret
+nor cunning moat could keep out that black commoner who struck them
+down.
+
+Oppressive laws slackened for want of those who could enforce them, and
+once slackened could never be enforced again. The laborer would be a
+slave no longer. The bondsman snapped his shackles. There was much to do
+and few left to do it. Therefore the few should be freemen, name their
+own price, and work where and for whom they would. It was the black
+death which cleared the way for that great rising thirty years later
+which left the English peasant the freest of his class in Europe.
+
+But there were few so far-sighted that they could see that here, as
+ever, good was coming out of evil. At the moment misery and ruin were
+brought into every family. The dead cattle, the ungarnered crops, the
+untilled lands--every spring of wealth had dried up at the same moment.
+Those who were rich became poor; but those who were poor already, and
+especially those who were poor with the burden of gentility upon their
+shoulders, found themselves in a perilous state. All through England
+the smaller gentry were ruined, for they had no trade save war, and they
+drew their living from the work of others. On many a manor-house there
+came evil times, and on none more than on the Manor of Tilford, where
+for many generations the noble family of the Lorings had held their
+home.
+
+There was a time when the Lorings had held the country from the North
+Downs to the Lakes of Frensham, and when their grim castle-keep
+rising above the green meadows which border the River Wey had been the
+strongest fortalice betwixt Guildford Castle in the east and Winchester
+in the west. But there came that Barons' War, in which the King used his
+Saxon subjects as a whip with which to scourge his Norman barons, and
+Castle Loring, like so many other great strongholds, was swept from
+the face of the land. From that time the Lorings, with estates sadly
+curtailed, lived in what had been the dower-house, with enough for
+splendor.
+
+And then came their lawsuit with Waverley Abbey, and the Cistercians
+laid claim to their richest land, with peccary, turbary and feudal
+rights over the remainder. It lingered on for years, this great lawsuit,
+and when it was finished the men of the Church and the men of the Law
+had divided all that was richest of the estate between them. There was
+still left the old manor-house from which with each generation there
+came a soldier to uphold the credit of the name and to show the five
+scarlet roses on the silver shield where it had always been shown--in
+the van. There were twelve bronzes in the little chapel where Matthew
+the priest said mass every morning, all of men of the house of Loring.
+Two lay with their legs crossed, as being from the Crusades. Six others
+rested their feet upon lions, as having died in war. Four only lay with
+the effigy of their hounds to show that they had passed in peace.
+
+Of this famous but impoverished family, doubly impoverished by law and
+by pestilence, two members were living in the year of grace 1349--Lady
+Ermyntrude Loring and her grandson Nigel. Lady Ermyntrude's husband had
+fallen before the Scottish spearsmen at Stirling, and her son Eustace,
+Nigel's father, had found a glorious death nine years before this
+chronicle opens upon the poop of a Norman galley at the sea-fight of
+Sluys. The lonely old woman, fierce and brooding like the falcon mewed
+in her chamber, was soft only toward the lad whom she had brought up.
+All the tenderness and love of her nature, so hidden from others that
+they could not imagine their existence, were lavished upon him.
+She could not bear him away from her, and he, with that respect for
+authority which the age demanded, would not go without her blessing and
+consent.
+
+So it came about that Nigel, with his lion heart and with the blood of
+a hundred soldiers thrilling in his veins, still at the age of two and
+twenty, wasted the weary days reclaiming his hawks with leash and lure
+or training the alans and spaniels who shared with the family the big
+earthen-floored hall of the manor-house.
+
+Day by day the aged Lady Ermyntrude had seen him wax in strength and in
+manhood, small of stature, it is true, but with muscles of steel--and a
+soul of fire. From all parts, from the warden of Guildford Castle, from
+the tilt-yard of Farnham, tales of his prowess were brought back to her,
+of his daring as a rider, of his debonair courage, of his skill with all
+weapons; but still she, who had both husband and son torn from her by
+a bloody death, could not bear that this, the last of the Lorings, the
+final bud of so famous an old tree, should share the same fate. With a
+weary heart, but with a smiling face, he bore with his uneventful days,
+while she would ever put off the evil time until the harvest was better,
+until the monks of Waverley should give up what they had taken, until
+his uncle should die and leave money for his outfit, or any other excuse
+with which she could hold him to her side.
+
+And indeed, there was need for a man at Tilford, for the strife betwixt
+the Abbey and the manor-house had never been appeased, and still on one
+pretext or another the monks would clip off yet one more slice of their
+neighbor's land. Over the winding river, across the green meadows, rose
+the short square tower and the high gray walls of the grim Abbey, with
+its bell tolling by day and night, a voice of menace and of dread to the
+little household.
+
+It is in the heart of the great Cistercian monastery that this chronicle
+of old days must take its start, as we trace the feud betwixt the monks
+and the house of Loring, with those events to which it gave birth,
+ending with the coming of Chandos, the strange spear-running of Tilford
+Bridge and the deeds with which Nigel won fame in the wars. Elsewhere,
+in the chronicle of the White Company, it has been set forth what manner
+of man was Nigel Loring. Those who love him may read herein those things
+which went to his making. Let us go back together and gaze upon this
+green stage of England, the scenery, hill, plain and river even as now,
+the actors in much our very selves, in much also so changed in thought
+and act that they might be dwellers in another world to ours.
+
+
+
+
+II. HOW THE DEVIL CAME TO WAVERLEY
+
+
+The day was the first of May, which was the Festival of the Blessed
+Apostles Philip and James. The year was the 1,349th from man's
+salvation.
+
+From tierce to sext, and then again from sext to nones, Abbot John of
+the House of Waverley had been seated in his study while he conducted
+the many high duties of his office. All around for many a mile on every
+side stretched the fertile and flourishing estate of which he was the
+master. In the center lay the broad Abbey buildings, with church and
+cloisters, hospitium, chapter-house and frater-house, all buzzing with a
+busy life. Through the open window came the low hum of the voices of the
+brethren as they walked in pious converse in the ambulatory below.
+From across the cloister there rolled the distant rise and fall of a
+Gregorian chant, where the precentor was hard at work upon the choir,
+while down in the chapter-house sounded the strident voice of Brother
+Peter, expounding the rule of Saint Bernard to the novices.
+
+Abbot John rose to stretch his cramped limbs. He looked out at the
+greensward of the cloister, and at the graceful line of open Gothic
+arches which skirted a covered walk for the brethren within. Two and two
+in their black-and-white garb with slow step and heads inclined, they
+paced round and round. Several of the more studious had brought their
+illuminating work from the scriptorium, and sat in the warm sunshine
+with their little platters of pigments and packets of gold-leaf before
+them, their shoulders rounded and their faces sunk low over the white
+sheets of vellum. There too was the copper-worker with his burin and
+graver. Learning and art were not traditions with the Cistercians
+as with the parent Order of the Benedictines, and yet the library
+of Waverley was well filled both with precious books and with pious
+students.
+
+But the true glory of the Cistercian lay in his outdoor work, and so
+ever and anon there passed through the cloister some sunburned monk,
+soiled mattock or shovel in hand, with his gown looped to his knee,
+fresh from the fields or the garden. The lush green water-meadows
+speckled with the heavy-fleeced sheep, the acres of corn-land reclaimed
+from heather and bracken, the vineyards on the southern <DW72> of
+Crooksbury Hill, the rows of Hankley fish-ponds, the Frensham marshes
+drained and sown with vegetables, the spacious pigeon-cotes, all circled
+the great Abbey round with the visible labors of the Order.
+
+The Abbot's full and florid face shone with a quiet content as he
+looked out at his huge but well-ordered household. Like every head of
+a prosperous Abbey, Abbot John, the fourth of the name, was a man of
+various accomplishments. Through his own chosen instruments he had to
+minister a great estate and to keep order and decorum among a large body
+of men living a celibate life. He was a rigid disciplinarian toward all
+beneath him, a supple diplomatist to all above. He held high debate with
+neighboring abbots and lords, with bishops, with papal legates, and even
+on occasion with the King's majesty himself. Many were the subjects
+with which he must be conversant. Questions of doctrine, questions of
+building, points of forestry, of agriculture, of drainage, of feudal
+law, all came to the Abbot for settlement. He held the scales of justice
+in all the Abbey banlieue which stretched over many a mile of Hampshire
+and of Surrey. To the monks his displeasure might mean fasting, exile to
+some sterner community, or even imprisonment in chains. Over the layman
+also he could hold any punishment save only corporeal death, instead
+of which he had in hand the far more dreadful weapon of spiritual
+excommunication.
+
+Such were the powers of the Abbot, and it is no wonder that there
+were masterful lines in the ruddy features of Abbot John, or that the
+brethren, glancing up, should put on an even meeker carriage and more
+demure expression as they saw the watchful face in the window above
+them.
+
+A knock at the door of his studio recalled the Abbot to his immediate
+duties, and he returned to his desk. Already he had spoken with his
+cellarer and prior, almoner, chaplain and lector, but now in the tall
+and gaunt monk who obeyed his summons to enter he recognized the most
+important and also the most importunate of his agents, Brother Samuel
+the sacrist, whose office, corresponding to that of the layman's
+bailiff, placed the material interests of the monastery and its dealings
+with the outer world entirely under his control, subject only to the
+check of the Abbot. Brother Samuel was a gnarled and stringy old monk
+whose stern and sharp-featured face reflected no light from above but
+only that sordid workaday world toward which it was forever turned. A
+huge book of accounts was tucked under one of his arms, while a great
+bunch of keys hung from the other hand, a badge of his office, and also
+on occasion of impatience a weapon of offense, as many a scarred head
+among rustics and lay brothers could testify.
+
+The Abbot sighed wearily, for he suffered much at the hands of his
+strenuous agent. "Well, Brother Samuel, what is your will?" he asked.
+
+"Holy father, I have to report that I have sold the wool to Master
+Baldwin of Winchester at two shillings a bale more than it fetched last
+year, for the murrain among the sheep has raised the price."
+
+"You have done well, brother."
+
+"I have also to tell you that I have distrained Wat the warrener from
+his cottage, for his Christmas rent is still unpaid, nor the hen-rents
+of last year."
+
+"He has a wife and four children, brother." He was a good, easy man, the
+Abbot, though liable to be overborne by his sterner subordinate.
+
+"It is true, holy father; but if I should pass him, then how am I to
+ask the rent of the foresters of Puttenham, or the hinds in the village?
+Such a thing spreads from house to house, and where then is the wealth
+of Waverley?"
+
+"What else, Brother Samuel?"
+
+"There is the matter of the fish-ponds."
+
+The Abbot's face brightened. It was a subject upon which he was an
+authority. If the rule of his Order had robbed him of the softer joys of
+life, he had the keener zest for those which remained.
+
+"How have the char prospered, brother?"
+
+"They have done well, holy father, but the carp have died in the Abbot's
+pond."
+
+"Carp prosper only upon a gravel bottom. They must be put in also in
+their due proportion, three milters to one spawner, brother sacrist,
+and the spot must be free from wind, stony and sandy, an ell deep, with
+willows and grass upon the banks. Mud for tench, brother, gravel for
+carp."
+
+The sacrist leaned forward with the face of one who bears tidings of
+woe. "There are pike in the Abbot's pond," said he.
+
+"Pike!" cried the Abbot in horror. "As well shut up a wolf in our
+sheepfold. How came a pike in the pond? There were no pike last year,
+and a pike does not fall with the rain nor rise in the springs. The pond
+must be drained, or we shall spend next Lent upon stockfish, and have
+the brethren down with the great sickness ere Easter Sunday has come to
+absolve us from our abstinence."
+
+"The pond shall be drained, holy father; I have already ordered it. Then
+we shall plant pot-herbs on the mud bottom, and after we have gathered
+them in, return the fish and water once more from the lower pond, so
+that they may fatten among the rich stubble."
+
+"Good!" cried the Abbot. "I would have three fish-stews in every
+well-ordered house--one dry for herbs, one shallow for the fry and the
+yearlings, and one deep for the breeders and the tablefish. But still, I
+have not heard you say how the pike came in the Abbot's pond."
+
+A spasm of anger passed over the fierce face of the sacrist, and his
+keys rattled as his bony hand clasped them more tightly. "Young Nigel
+Loring!" said he. "He swore that he would do us scathe, and in this way
+he has done it."
+
+"How know you this?"
+
+"Six weeks ago he was seen day by day fishing for pike at the great Lake
+of Frensham. Twice at night he has been met with a bundle of straw under
+his arm on the Hankley Down. Well, I wot that the straw was wet and that
+a live pike lay within it."
+
+The Abbot shook his head. "I have heard much of this youth's wild ways;
+but now indeed he has passed all bounds if what you say be truth. It
+was bad enough when it was said that he slew the King's deer in Woolmer
+Chase, or broke the head of Hobbs the chapman, so that he lay for seven
+days betwixt life and death in our infirmary, saved only by Brother
+Peter's skill in the pharmacies of herbs; but to put pike in the Abbot's
+pond--why should he play such a devil's prank?"
+
+"Because he hates the House of Waverley, holy father; because he swears
+that we hold his father's land."
+
+"In which there is surely some truth."
+
+"But, holy father, we hold no more than the law has allowed."
+
+"True, brother, and yet between ourselves, we may admit that the heavier
+purse may weigh down the scales of Justice. When I have passed the old
+house and have seen that aged woman with her ruddled cheeks and her
+baleful eyes look the curses she dare not speak, I have many a time
+wished that we had other neighbors."
+
+"That we can soon bring about, holy father. Indeed, it is of it that I
+wished to speak to you. Surely it is not hard for us to drive them from
+the country-side. There are thirty years' claims of escuage unsettled,
+and there is Sergeant Wilkins, the lawyer of Guildford, whom I will
+warrant to draw up such arrears of dues and rents and issues of hidage
+and fodder-corn that these folk, who are as beggarly as they are proud,
+will have to sell the roof-tree over them ere they can meet them. Within
+three days I will have them at our mercy."
+
+"They are an ancient family and of good repute. I would not treat them
+too harshly, brother."
+
+"Bethink you of the pike in the carp pond!"
+
+The Abbot hardened his heart at the thought. "It was indeed a devil's
+deed--when we had but newly stocked it with char and with carp. Well,
+well, the law is the law, and if you can use it to hurt, it is still
+lawful to do so. Have these claims been advanced?"
+
+"Deacon the bailiff with his two varlets went down to the Hall
+yesternight on the matter of the escuage, and came screaming back with
+this young hothead raging at their heels. He is small and slight, yet
+he has the strength of many men in the hour of his wrath. The bailiff
+swears that he will go no more, save with half a score of archers to
+uphold him."
+
+The Abbot was red with anger at this new offense. "I will teach him that
+the servants of Holy Church, even though we of the rule of Saint Bernard
+be the lowliest and humblest of her children, can still defend their own
+against the froward and the violent! Go, cite this man before the Abbey
+court. Let him appear in the chapter-house after tierce to-morrow."
+
+But the wary sacrist shook his head: "Nay, holy father, the times are
+not yet ripe. Give me three days, I pray you, that my case against him
+may be complete. Bear in mind that the father and the grandfather of
+this unruly squire were both famous men of their day and the foremost
+knights in the King's own service, living in high honor and dying in
+their knightly duty. The Lady Ermyntrude Loring was first lady to
+the King's mother. Roger FitzAlan of Farnham and Sir Hugh Walcott of
+Guildford Castle were each old comrades-in-arms of Nigel's father, and
+sib to him on the distaff side. Already there has been talk that we have
+dealt harshly with them. Therefore, my rede is that we be wise and wary
+and wait until his cup be indeed full."
+
+The Abbot had opened his mouth to reply, when the consultation was
+interrupted by a most unwonted buzz of excitement from among the monks
+in the cloister below. Questions and answers in excited voices sounded
+from one side of the ambulatory to the other. Sacrist and Abbot were
+gazing at each other in amazement at such a breach of the discipline and
+decorum of their well-trained flock, when there came a swift step upon
+the stair, and a white-faced brother flung open the door and rushed into
+the room.
+
+"Father Abbot!" he cried. "Alas, alas! Brother John is dead, and the
+holy subprior is dead, and the Devil is loose in the five-virgate
+field!"
+
+
+
+
+III. THE YELLOW HORSE OF CROOKSBURY
+
+
+In those simple times there was a great wonder and mystery in life. Man
+walked in fear and solemnity, with Heaven very close above his head,
+and Hell below his very feet. God's visible hand was everywhere, in the
+rainbow and the comet, in the thunder and the wind. The Devil too raged
+openly upon the earth; he skulked behind the hedge-rows in the gloaming;
+he laughed loudly in the night-time; he clawed the dying sinner, pounced
+on the unbaptized babe, and twisted the limbs of the epileptic. A foul
+fiend slunk ever by a man's side and whispered villainies in his ear,
+while above him there hovered an angel of grace who pointed to the steep
+and narrow track. How could one doubt these things, when Pope and priest
+and scholar and King were all united in believing them, with no single
+voice of question in the whole wide world?
+
+Every book read, every picture seen, every tale heard from nurse or
+mother, all taught the same lesson. And as a man traveled through the
+world his faith would grow the firmer, for go where he would there
+were the endless shrines of the saints, each with its holy relic in the
+center, and around it the tradition of incessant miracles, with stacks
+of deserted crutches and silver votive hearts to prove them. At every
+turn he was made to feel how thin was the veil, and how easily rent,
+which screened him from the awful denizens of the unseen world.
+
+Hence the wild announcement of the frightened monk seemed terrible
+rather than incredible to those whom he addressed. The Abbot's ruddy
+face paled for a moment, it is true, but he plucked the crucifix from
+his desk and rose valiantly to his feet.
+
+"Lead me to him!" said he. "Show me the foul fiend who dares to lay his
+grip upon brethren of the holy house of Saint Bernard! Run down to my
+chaplain, brother! Bid him bring the exorcist with him, and also the
+blessed box of relics, and the bones of Saint James from under the
+altar! With these and a contrite and humble heart we may show front to
+all the powers of darkness."
+
+But the sacrist was of a more critical turn of mind. He clutched the
+monk's arm with a grip which left its five purple spots for many a day
+to come.
+
+"Is this the way to enter the Abbot's own chamber, without knock or
+reverence, or so much as a 'Pax vobiscum'?" said he sternly. "You were
+wont to be our gentlest novice, of lowly carriage in chapter, devout in
+psalmody and strict in the cloister. Pull your wits together and answer
+me straightly. In what form has the foul fiend appeared, and how has he
+done this grievous scathe to our brethren? Have you seen him with your
+own eyes, or do you repeat from hearsay? Speak, man, or you stand on the
+penance-stool in the chapter-house this very hour!"
+
+Thus adjured, the frightened monk grew calmer in his bearing, though his
+white lips and his startled eyes, with the gasping of his breath, told
+of his inward tremors.
+
+"If it please you, holy father, and you, reverend sacrist, it came about
+in this way. James the subprior, and Brother John and I had spent our
+day from sext onward on Hankley, cutting bracken for the cow-houses. We
+were coming back over the five-virgate field, and the holy subprior was
+telling us a saintly tale from the life of Saint Gregory, when there
+came a sudden sound like a rushing torrent, and the foul fiend sprang
+over the high wall which skirts the water-meadow and rushed upon us
+with the speed of the wind. The lay brother he struck to the ground and
+trampled into the mire. Then, seizing the good subprior in his teeth, he
+rushed round the field, swinging him as though he were a fardel of old
+clothes.
+
+"Amazed at such a sight, I stood without movement and had said a credo
+and three aves, when the Devil dropped the subprior and sprang upon me.
+With the help of Saint Bernard I clambered over the wall, but not before
+his teeth had found my leg, and he had torn away the whole back skirt of
+my gown." As he spoke he turned and gave corroboration to his story by
+the hanging ruins of his long trailing garment.
+
+"In what shape then did Satan appear?" the Abbot demanded.
+
+"As a great yellow horse, holy father--a monster horse, with eyes of
+fire and the teeth of a griffin."
+
+"A yellow horse!" The sacrist glared at the scared monk. "You foolish
+brother! How will you behave when you have indeed to face the King of
+Terrors himself if you can be so frightened by the sight of a yellow
+horse? It is the horse of Franklin Aylward, my father, which has been
+distrained by us because he owes the Abbey fifty good shillings and can
+never hope to pay it. Such a horse, they say, is not to be found betwixt
+this and the King's stables at Windsor, for his sire was a Spanish
+destrier, and his dam an Arab mare of the very breed which Saladin,
+whose soul now reeks in Hell, kept for his own use, and even it has been
+said under the shelter of his own tent. I took him in discharge of the
+debt, and I ordered the varlets who had haltered him to leave him alone
+in the water-meadow, for I have heard that the beast has indeed a most
+evil spirit, and has killed more men than one."
+
+"It was an ill day for Waverley that you brought such a monster within
+its bounds," said the Abbot. "If the subprior and Brother John be indeed
+dead, then it would seem that if the horse be not the Devil he is at
+least the Devil's instrument."
+
+"Horse or Devil, holy father, I heard him shout with joy as he trampled
+upon Brother John, and had you seen him tossing the subprior as a dog
+shakes a rat you would perchance have felt even as I did."
+
+"Come then," cried the Abbot, "let us see with our own eyes what evil
+has been done."
+
+And the three monks hurried down the stair which led to the cloisters.
+
+They had no sooner descended than their more pressing fears were set at
+rest, for at that very moment, limping, disheveled and mud-stained, the
+two sufferers were being led in amid a crowd of sympathizing brethren.
+Shouts and cries from outside showed, however, that some further drama
+was in progress, and both Abbot and sacrist hastened onward as fast
+as the dignity of their office would permit, until they had passed the
+gates and gained the wall of the meadow. Looking over it, a remarkable
+sight presented itself to their eyes.
+
+Fetlock deep in the lush grass there stood a magnificent horse, such a
+horse as a sculptor or a soldier might thrill to see. His color was a
+light chestnut, with mane and tail of a more tawny tint. Seventeen hands
+high, with a barrel and haunches which bespoke tremendous strength, he
+fined down to the most delicate lines of dainty breed in neck and crest
+and shoulder. He was indeed a glorious sight as he stood there, his
+beautiful body leaning back from his wide-spread and propped fore
+legs, his head craned high, his ears erect, his mane bristling, his red
+nostrils opening and shutting with wrath, and his flashing eyes turning
+from side to side in haughty menace and defiance.
+
+Scattered round in a respectful circle, six of the Abbey lay servants
+and foresters, each holding a halter, were creeping toward him. Every
+now and then, with a beautiful toss and swerve and plunge, the
+great creature would turn upon one of his would-be captors, and with
+outstretched head, flying mane and flashing teeth, would chase him
+screaming to the safety of the wall, while the others would close
+swiftly in behind and cast their ropes in the hope of catching neck or
+leg, but only in their turn to be chased to the nearest refuge.
+
+Had two of these ropes settled upon the horse, and had their throwers
+found some purchase of stump or boulder by which they could hold them,
+then the man's brain might have won its wonted victory over swiftness
+and strength. But the brains were themselves at fault which imagined
+that one such rope would serve any purpose save to endanger the thrower.
+
+Yet so it was, and what might have been foreseen occurred at the very
+moment of the arrival of the monks. The horse, having chased one of his
+enemies to the wall, remained so long snorting his contempt over the
+coping that the others were able to creep upon him from behind. Several
+ropes were flung, and one noose settled over the proud crest and lost
+itself in the waving mane. In an instant the creature had turned and the
+men were flying for their lives; but he who had cast the rope lingered,
+uncertain what use to make of his own success. That moment of doubt was
+fatal. With a yell of dismay, the man saw the great creature rear above
+him. Then with a crash the fore feet fell upon him and dashed him to
+the ground. He rose screaming, was hurled over once more, and lay a
+quivering, bleeding heap, while the savage horse, the most cruel and
+terrible in its anger of all creatures on earth, bit and shook and
+trampled the writhing body.
+
+A loud wail of horror rose from the lines of tonsured heads which
+skirted the high wall--a wail which suddenly died away into a long
+hushed silence, broken at last by a rapturous cry of thanksgiving and of
+joy.
+
+On the road which led to the old dark manor-house upon the side of
+the hill a youth had been riding. His mount was a sorry one, a weedy,
+shambling, long-haired colt, and his patched tunic of faded purple with
+stained leather belt presented no very smart appearance; yet in the
+bearing of the man, in the poise of his head, in his easy graceful
+carriage, and in the bold glance of his large blue eyes, there was that
+stamp of distinction and of breed which would have given him a place
+of his own in any assembly. He was of small stature, but his frame
+was singularly elegant and graceful. His face, though tanned with
+the weather, was delicate in features and most eager and alert in
+expression. A thick fringe of crisp yellow curls broke from under the
+dark flat cap which he was wearing, and a short golden beard hid the
+outline of his strong square chin. One white osprey feather thrust
+through a gold brooch in the front of his cap gave a touch of grace to
+his somber garb. This and other points of his attire, the short hanging
+mantle, the leather-sheathed hunting-knife, the cross belt which
+sustained a brazen horn, the soft doe-skin boots and the prick spurs,
+would all disclose themselves to an observer; but at the first glance
+the brown face set in gold and the dancing light of the quick, reckless,
+laughing eyes, were the one strong memory left behind.
+
+Such was the youth who, cracking his whip joyously, and followed by half
+a score of dogs, cantered on his rude pony down the Tilford Lane, and
+thence it was that with a smile of amused contempt upon his face
+he observed the comedy in the field and the impotent efforts of the
+servants of Waverley.
+
+Suddenly, however, as the comedy turned swiftly to black tragedy, this
+passive spectator leaped into quick strenuous life. With a spring he
+was off his pony, and with another he was over the stone wall and flying
+swiftly across the field. Looking up from his victim, the great yellow
+horse saw this other enemy approach, and spurning the prostrate, but
+still writhing body with its heels, dashed at the newcomer.
+
+But this time there was no hasty flight, no rapturous pursuit to the
+wall. The little man braced himself straight, flung up his metal-headed
+whip, and met the horse with a crashing blow upon the head, repeated
+again and again with every attack. In vain the horse reared and tried
+to overthrow its enemy with swooping shoulders and pawing hoofs. Cool,
+swift and alert, the man sprang swiftly aside from under the very shadow
+of death, and then again came the swish and thud of the unerring blow
+from the heavy handle.
+
+The horse drew off, glared with wonder and fury at this masterful man,
+and then trotted round in a circle, with mane bristling, tail streaming
+and ears on end, snorting in its rage and pain. The man, hardly deigning
+to glance at his fell neighbor, passed on to the wounded forester,
+raised him in his arms with a strength which could not have been
+expected in so slight a body, and carried him, groaning, to the wall,
+where a dozen hands were outstretched to help him over. Then, at his
+leisure, the young man also climbed the wall, smiling back with cool
+contempt at the yellow horse, which had come raging after him once more.
+
+As he sprang down, a dozen monks surrounded him to thank him or to
+praise him; but he would have turned sullenly away without a word had he
+not been stopped by Abbot John in person.
+
+"Nay, Squire Loring," said he, "if you be a bad friend to our Abbey, yet
+we must needs own that you have played the part of a good Christian this
+day, for if there is breath left in our servant's body it is to you next
+to our blessed patron Saint Bernard that we owe it."
+
+"By Saint Paul! I owe you no good-will, Abbot John," said the young man.
+"The shadow of your Abbey has ever fallen across the house of Loring. As
+to any small deed that I may have done this day, I ask no thanks for
+it. It is not for you nor for your house that I have done it, but only
+because it was my pleasure so to do."
+
+The Abbot flushed at the bold words, and bit his lip with vexation.
+
+It was the sacrist, however, who answered: "It would be more fitting and
+more gracious," said he, "if you were to speak to the holy Father Abbot
+in a manner suited to his high rank and to the respect which is due to a
+Prince of the Church."
+
+The youth turned his bold blue eyes upon the monk, and his sunburned
+face darkened with anger. "Were it not for the gown upon your back, and
+for your silvering hair, I would answer you in another fashion," said
+he. "You are the lean wolf which growls ever at our door, greedy for the
+little which hath been left to us. Say and do what you will with me, but
+by Saint Paul! if I find that Dame Ermyntrude is baited by your ravenous
+pack I will beat them off with this whip from the little patch which
+still remains of all the acres of my fathers."
+
+"Have a care, Nigel Loring, have a care!" cried the Abbot, with finger
+upraised. "Have you no fears of the law of England?"
+
+"A just law I fear and obey."
+
+"Have you no respect for Holy Church?"
+
+"I respect all that is holy in her. I do not respect those who grind the
+poor or steal their neighbor's land."
+
+"Rash man, many a one has been blighted by her ban for less than you
+have now said! And yet it is not for us to judge you harshly this day.
+You are young and hot words come easily to your lips. How fares the
+forester?"
+
+"His hurt is grievous, Father Abbot, but he will live," said a brother,
+looking up from the prostrate form. "With a blood-letting and an
+electuary, I will warrant him sound within a month."
+
+"Then bear him to the hospital. And now, brother, about this terrible
+beast who still gazes and snorts at us over the top of the wall as
+though his thoughts of Holy Church were as uncouth as those of Squire
+Nigel himself, what are we to do with him?"
+
+"Here is Franklin Aylward," said one of the brethren. "The horse was
+his, and doubtless he will take it back to his farm."
+
+But the stout red-faced farmer shook his head at the proposal. "Not I,
+in faith!" said he. "The beast hath chased me twice round the paddock;
+it has nigh slain my boy Samkin. He would never be happy till he had
+ridden it, nor has he ever been happy since. There is not a hind in my
+employ who will enter his stall. Ill fare the day that ever I took the
+beast from the Castle stud at Guildford, where they could do nothing
+with it and no rider could be found bold enough to mount it! When the
+sacrist here took it for a fifty-shilling debt he made his own bargain
+and must abide by it. He comes no more to the Crooksbury farm."
+
+"And he stays no more here," said the Abbot. "Brother sacrist, you have
+raised the Devil, and it is for you to lay it again."
+
+"That I will most readily," cried the sacrist. "The pittance-master can
+stop the fifty shillings from my very own weekly dole, and so the Abbey
+be none the poorer. In the meantime here is Wat with his arbalist and
+a bolt in his girdle. Let him drive it to the head through this cursed
+creature, for his hide and his hoofs are of more value than his wicked
+self."
+
+A hard brown old woodman who had been shooting vermin in the Abbey
+groves stepped forward with a grin of pleasure. After a lifetime of
+stoats and foxes, this was indeed a noble quarry which was to fall
+before him. Fitting a bolt on the nut of his taut crossbow, he
+had raised it to his shoulder and leveled it at the fierce, proud,
+disheveled head which tossed in savage freedom at the other side of
+the wall. His finger was crooked on the spring, when a blow from a whip
+struck the bow upward and the bolt flew harmless over the Abbey orchard,
+while the woodman shrank abashed from Nigel Loring's angry eyes.
+
+"Keep your bolts for your weasels!" said he. "Would you take life from a
+creature whose only fault is that its spirit is so high that it has
+met none yet who dare control it? You would slay such a horse as a king
+might be proud to mount, and all because a country franklin, or a monk,
+or a monk's varlet, has not the wit nor the hands to master him?"
+
+The sacrist turned swiftly on the Squire. "The Abbey owes you an
+offering for this day's work, however rude your words may be," said he.
+"If you think so much of the horse, you may desire to own it. If I am to
+pay for it, then with the holy Abbot's permission it is in my gift and I
+bestow it freely upon you."
+
+The Abbot plucked at his subordinate's sleeve. "Bethink you, brother
+sacrist," he whispered, "shall we not have this man's blood upon our
+heads?"
+
+"His pride is as stubborn as the horse's, holy father," the sacrist
+answered, his gaunt fact breaking into a malicious smile. "Man or beast,
+one will break the other and the world will be the better for it. If you
+forbid me--"
+
+"Nay, brother, you have bought the horse, and you may have the bestowal
+of it."
+
+"Then I give it--hide and hoofs, tail and temper--to Nigel Loring, and
+may it be as sweet and as gentle to him as he hath been to the Abbot of
+Waverley!"
+
+The sacrist spoke aloud amid the tittering of the monks, for the man
+concerned was out of earshot. At the first words which had shown him the
+turn which affairs had taken he had run swiftly to the spot where he had
+left his pony. From its mouth he removed the bit and the stout bridle
+which held it. Then leaving the creature to nibble the grass by the
+wayside he sped back whence he came.
+
+"I take your gift, monk," said he, "though I know well why it is that
+you give it. Yet I thank you, for there are two things upon earth for
+which I have ever yearned, and which my thin purse could never buy.
+The one is a noble horse, such a horse as my father's son should have
+betwixt his thighs, and here is the one of all others which I would have
+chosen, since some small deed is to be done in the winning of him, and
+some honorable advancement to be gained. How is the horse called?"
+
+"Its name," said the franklin, "is Pommers. I warn you, young sir, that
+none may ride him, for many have tried, and the luckiest is he who has
+only a staved rib to show for it."
+
+"I thank you for your rede," said Nigel, "and now I see that this
+is indeed a horse which I would journey far to meet. I am your man,
+Pommers, and you are my horse, and this night you shall own it or I will
+never need horse again. My spirit against thine, and God hold thy spirit
+high, Pommers, so that the greater be the adventure, and the more hope
+of honor gained!"
+
+While he spoke the young Squire had climbed on to the top of the
+wall and stood there balanced, the very image of grace and spirit and
+gallantry, his bridle hanging from one hand and his whip grasped in the
+other. With a fierce snort, the horse made for him instantly, and his
+white teeth flashed as he snapped; but again a heavy blow from the
+loaded whip caused him to swerve, and even at the instant of the swerve,
+measuring the distance with steady eyes, and bending his supple body for
+the spring, Nigel bounded into the air and fell with his legs astride
+the broad back of the yellow horse. For a minute, with neither saddle
+nor stirrups to help him, and the beast ramping and rearing like a mad
+thing beneath him, he was hard pressed to hold his own. His legs were
+like two bands of steel welded on to the swelling arches of the great
+horse's ribs, and his left hand was buried deep in the tawny mane.
+
+Never had the dull round of the lives of the gentle brethren of Waverley
+been broken by so fiery a scene. Springing to right and swooping to
+left, now with its tangled wicked head betwixt its forefeet, and now
+pawing eight feet high in the air, with scarlet, furious nostrils and
+maddened eyes, the yellow horse was a thing of terror and of beauty. But
+the lithe figure on his back, bending like a reed in the wind to every
+movement, firm below, pliant above, with calm inexorable face, and
+eyes which danced and gleamed with the joy of contest, still held its
+masterful place for all that the fiery heart and the iron muscles of the
+great beast could do.
+
+Once a long drone of dismay rose from the monks, as rearing higher and
+higher yet a last mad effort sent the creature toppling over backward
+upon its rider. But, swift and cool, he had writhed from under it ere
+it fell, spurned it with his foot as it rolled upon the earth, and then
+seizing its mane as it rose swung himself lightly on to its back once
+more. Even the grim sacrist could not but join the cheer, as Pommers,
+amazed to find the rider still upon his back, plunged and curveted down
+the field.
+
+But the wild horse only swelled into a greater fury. In the sullen gloom
+of its untamed heart there rose the furious resolve to dash the life
+from this clinging rider, even if it meant destruction to beast and man.
+With red, blazing eyes it looked round for death. On three sides the
+five-virgate field was bounded by a high wall, broken only at one spot
+by a heavy four-foot wooden gate. But on the fourth side was a low
+gray building, one of the granges of the Abbey, presenting a long flank
+unbroken by door or window. The horse stretched itself into a gallop,
+and headed straight for that craggy thirty-foot wall. He would break in
+red ruin at the base of it if he could but dash forever the life of this
+man, who claimed mastery over that which had never found its master yet.
+
+The great haunches gathered under it, the eager hoofs drummed the grass,
+as faster and still more fast the frantic horse bore himself and his
+rider toward the wall. Would Nigel spring off? To do so would be to bend
+his will to that of the beast beneath him. There was a better way than
+that. Cool, quick and decided, the man swiftly passed both whip and
+bridle into the left hand which still held the mane. Then with the right
+he slipped his short mantle from his shoulders and lying forward along
+the creature's strenuous, rippling back he cast the flapping cloth over
+the horse's eyes.
+
+The result was but too successful, for it nearly brought about the
+downfall of the rider. When those red eyes straining for death were
+suddenly shrouded in unexpected darkness the amazed horse propped on its
+forefeet and came to so dead a stop that Nigel was shot forward on to
+its neck and hardly held himself by his hair-entwined hand. Ere he had
+slid back into position the moment of danger had passed, for the horse,
+its purpose all blurred in its mind by this strange thing which had
+befallen, wheeled round once more, trembling in every fiber, and tossing
+its petulant head until at last the mantle had been slipped from its
+eyes and the chilling darkness had melted into the homely circle of
+sunlit grass once more.
+
+But what was this new outrage which had been inflicted upon it? What was
+this defiling bar of iron which was locked hard against its mouth? What
+were these straps which galled the tossing neck, this band which spanned
+its chest? In those instants of stillness ere the mantle had been
+plucked away Nigel had lain forward, had slipped the snaffle between the
+champing teeth, and had deftly secured it.
+
+Blind, frantic fury surged in the yellow horse's heart once more at this
+new degradation, this badge of serfdom and infamy. His spirit rose high
+and menacing at the touch. He loathed this place, these people, all and
+everything which threatened his freedom. He would have done with them
+forever; he would see them no more. Let him away to the uttermost parts
+of the earth, to the great plains where freedom is. Anywhere over
+the far horizon where he could get away from the defiling bit and the
+insufferable mastery of man.
+
+He turned with a rush, and one magnificent deer-like bound carried him
+over the four-foot gate. Nigel's hat had flown off, and his yellow curls
+streamed behind him as he rose and fell in the leap. They were in the
+water-meadow now, and the rippling stream twenty feet wide gleamed in
+front of them running down to the main current of the Wey. The yellow
+horse gathered his haunches under him and flew over like an arrow. He
+took off from behind a boulder and cleared a furze-bush on the farther
+side. Two stones still mark the leap from hoof-mark to hoof-mark, and
+they are eleven good paces apart. Under the hanging branch of the great
+oak-tree on the farther side (that Quercus Tilfordiensis ordiensis is
+still shown as the bound of the Abby's immediate precincts) the great
+horse passed. He had hoped to sweep off his rider, but Nigel sank low
+on the heaving back with his face buried in the flying mane. The rough
+bough rasped him rudely, but never shook his spirit nor his grip.
+Rearing, plunging and struggling, Pommers broke through the sapling
+grove and was out on the broad stretch of Hankley Down.
+
+And now came such a ride as still lingers in the gossip of the lowly
+country folk and forms the rude jingle of that old Surrey ballad, now
+nearly forgotten, save for the refrain:
+
+           The Doe that sped on Hinde Head,
+              The Kestril on the winde,
+           And Nigel on the Yellow Horse
+              Can leave the world behinde.
+
+Before them lay a rolling ocean of dark heather, knee-deep, swelling in
+billow on billow up to the clear-cut hill before them. Above stretched
+one unbroken arch of peaceful blue, with a sun which was sinking down
+toward the Hampshire hills. Through the deep heather, down the gullies,
+over the watercourses, up the broken <DW72>s, Pommers flew, his great
+heart bursting with rage, and every fiber quivering at the indignities
+which he had endured.
+
+And still, do what he would, the man clung fast to his heaving sides and
+to his flying mane, silent, motionless, inexorable, letting him do what
+he would, but fixed as Fate upon his purpose. Over Hankley Down, through
+Thursley Marsh, with the reeds up to his mud-splashed withers, onward up
+the long <DW72> of the Headland of the Hinds, down by the Nutcombe Gorge,
+slipping, blundering, bounding, but never slackening his fearful speed,
+on went the great yellow horse. The villagers of Shottermill heard the
+wild clatter of hoofs, but ere they could swing the ox-hide curtains of
+their cottage doors horse and rider were lost amid the high bracken of
+the Haslemere Valley. On he went, and on, tossing the miles behind his
+flying hoofs. No marsh-land could clog him, no hill could hold him back.
+Up the <DW72> of Linchmere and the long ascent of Fernhurst he thundered
+as on the level, and it was not until he had flown down the incline of
+Henley Hill, and the gray castle tower of Midhurst rose over the coppice
+in front, that at last the eager outstretched neck sank a little on
+the breast, and the breath came quick and fast. Look where he would in
+woodland and on down, his straining eyes could catch no sign of those
+plains of freedom which he sought.
+
+And yet another outrage! It was bad that this creature should
+still cling so tight upon his back, but now he would even go to the
+intolerable length of checking him and guiding him on the way that he
+would have him go. There was a sharp pluck at his mouth, and his head
+was turned north once more. As well go that way as another, but the man
+was mad indeed if he thought that such a horse as Pommers was at the
+end of his spirit or his strength. He would soon show him that he was
+unconquered, if it strained his sinews or broke his heart to do so. Back
+then he flew up the long, long ascent. Would he ever get to the end of
+it? Yet he would not own that he could go no farther while the man still
+kept his grip. He was white with foam and caked with mud. His eyes were
+gorged with blood, his mouth open and gasping, his nostrils expanded,
+his coat stark and reeking. On he flew down the long Sunday Hill until
+he reached the deep Kingsley Marsh at the bottom. No, it was too much!
+Flesh and blood could go no farther. As he struggled out from the reedy
+slime with the heavy black mud still clinging to his fetlocks, he at
+last eased down with sobbing breath and slowed the tumultuous gallop to
+a canter.
+
+Oh, crowning infamy! Was there no limit to these degradations? He was no
+longer even to choose his own pace. Since he had chosen to gallop so far
+at his own will he must now gallop farther still at the will of another.
+A spur struck home on either flank. A stinging whip-lash fell across his
+shoulder. He bounded his own height in the air at the pain and the shame
+of it. Then, forgetting his weary limbs, forgetting his panting, reeking
+sides, forgetting everything save this intolerable insult and the
+burning spirit within, he plunged off once more upon his furious gallop.
+He was out on the heather <DW72>s again and heading for Weydown Common.
+On he flew and on. But again his brain failed him and again his limbs
+trembled beneath him, and yet again he strove to ease his pace, only to
+be driven onward by the cruel spur and the falling lash. He was blind
+and giddy with fatigue.
+
+He saw no longer where he placed his feet, he cared no longer whither he
+went, but his one mad longing was to get away from this dreadful thing,
+this torture which clung to him and would not let him go. Through
+Thursley village he passed, his eyes straining in his agony, his heart
+bursting within him, and he had won his way to the crest of Thursley
+Down, still stung forward by stab and blow, when his spirit weakened,
+his giant strength ebbed out of him, and with one deep sob of agony the
+yellow horse sank among the heather. So sudden was the fall that Nigel
+flew forward over his shoulder, and beast and man lay prostrate and
+gasping while the last red rim of the sun sank behind Butser and the
+first stars gleamed in a violet sky.
+
+The young Squire was the first to recover, and kneeling by the panting,
+overwrought horse he passed his hand gently over the tangled mane and
+down the foam-flecked face. The red eye rolled up at him; but it was
+wonder not hatred, a prayer and not a threat, which he could read in it.
+As he stroked the reeking muzzle, the horse whinnied gently and thrust
+his nose into the hollow of his hand. It was enough. It was the end of
+the contest, the acceptance of new conditions by a chivalrous foe from a
+chivalrous victor.
+
+"You are my horse, Pommers," Nigel whispered, and he laid his cheek
+against the craning head. "I know you, Pommers, and you know me, and
+with the help of Saint Paul we shall teach some other folk to know us
+both. Now let us walk together as far as this moorland pond, for indeed
+I wot not whether it is you or I who need the water most."
+
+And so it was that some belated monks of Waverley passing homeward from
+the outer farms saw a strange sight which they carried on with them so
+that it reached that very night the ears both of sacrist and of Abbot.
+For, as they passed through Tilford they had seen horse and man walking
+side by side and head by head up the manor-house lane. And when they
+had raised their lanterns on the pair it was none other than the young
+Squire himself who was leading home, as a shepherd leads a lamb, the
+fearsome yellow horse of Crooksbury.
+
+
+
+
+IV. HOW THE SUMMONER CAME TO THE MANOR HOUSE OF TILFORD
+
+
+By the date of this chronicle the ascetic sternness of the old Norman
+castles had been humanized and refined so that the new dwellings of the
+nobility, if less imposing in appearance, were much more comfortable
+as places of residence. A gentle race had built their houses rather for
+peace than for war. He who compares the savage bareness of Pevensey or
+Guildford with the piled grandeur of Bodmin or Windsor cannot fail to
+understand the change in manners which they represent.
+
+The earlier castles had a set purpose, for they were built that the
+invaders might hold down the country; but when the Conquest was once
+firmly established a castle had lost its meaning save as a refuge from
+justice or as a center for civil strife. On the marches of Wales and of
+Scotland the castle might continue to be a bulwark to the kingdom,
+and there still grew and flourished; but in all other places they were
+rather a menace to the King's majesty, and as such were discouraged and
+destroyed. By the reign of the third Edward the greater part of the old
+fighting castles had been converted into dwelling-houses or had been
+ruined in the civil wars, and left where their grim gray bones are still
+littered upon the brows of our hills. The new buildings were either
+great country-houses, capable of defense, but mainly residential, or
+they were manor-houses with no military significance at all.
+
+Such was the Tilford Manor-house where the last survivors of the old and
+magnificent house of Loring still struggled hard to keep a footing and
+to hold off the monks and the lawyers from the few acres which were left
+to them. The mansion was a two-storied one, framed in heavy beams of
+wood, the interstices filled with rude blocks of stone. An outside
+staircase led up to several sleeping-rooms above. Below there were only
+two apartments, the smaller of which was the bower of the aged Lady
+Ermyntrude. The other was the hall, a very large room, which served
+as the living room of the family and as the common dining-room of
+themselves and of their little group of servants and retainers. The
+dwellings of these servants, the kitchens, the offices and the stables
+were all represented by a row of penthouses and sheds behind the main
+building. Here lived Charles the page, Peter the old falconer, Red Swire
+who had followed Nigel's grandfather to the Scottish wars, Weathercote
+the broken minstrel, John the cook, and other survivors of more
+prosperous days, who still clung to the old house as the barnacles to
+some wrecked and stranded vessel.
+
+One evening about a week after the breaking of the yellow horse, Nigel
+and his grandmother sat on either side of the large empty fireplace in
+this spacious apartment. The supper had been removed, and so had the
+trestle tables upon which it had been served, so that the room seemed
+bare and empty. The stone floor was strewed with a thick layer of green
+rushes, which was swept out every Saturday and carried with it all the
+dirt and debris of the week. Several dogs were now crouched among these
+rushes, gnawing and cracking the bones which had been thrown from the
+table. A long wooden buffet loaded with plates and dishes filled one
+end of the room, but there was little other furniture save some benches
+against the walls, two dorseret chairs, one small table littered with
+chessmen, and a great iron coffer. In one corner was a high wickerwork
+stand, and on it two stately falcons were perched, silent and
+motionless, save for an occasional twinkle of their fierce yellow eyes.
+
+But if the actual fittings of the room would have appeared scanty to one
+who had lived in a more luxurious age, he would have been surprised on
+looking up to see the multitude of objects which were suspended above
+his head. Over the fireplace were the coats-of-arms of a number
+of houses allied by blood or by marriage to the Lorings. The two
+cresset-lights which flared upon each side gleamed upon the blue lion of
+the Percies, the red birds of de Valence, the black engrailed cross of
+de Mohun, the silver star of de Vere, and the ruddy bars of FitzAlan,
+all grouped round the famous red roses on the silver shield which the
+Lorings had borne to glory upon many a bloody field. Then from side to
+side the room was spanned by heavy oaken beams from which a great number
+of objects were hanging. There were mail-shirts of obsolete pattern,
+several shields, one or two rusted and battered helmets, bowstaves,
+lances, otter-spears, harness, fishing-rods, and other implements of war
+or of the chase, while higher still amid the black shadows of the peaked
+roof could be seen rows of hams, flitches of bacon, salted geese, and
+those other forms of preserved meat which played so great a part in the
+housekeeping of the Middle Ages.
+
+Dame Ermyntrude Loring, daughter, wife, and mother of warriors, was
+herself a formidable figure. Tall and gaunt, with hard craggy features
+and intolerant dark eyes, even her snow-white hair and stooping back
+could not entirely remove the sense of fear which she inspired in those
+around her. Her thoughts and memories went back to harsher times, and
+she looked upon the England around her as a degenerate and effeminate
+land which had fallen away from the old standard of knightly courtesy
+and valor.
+
+The rising power of the people, the growing wealth of the Church, the
+increasing luxury in life and manners, and the gentler tone of the age
+were all equally abhorrent to her, so that the dread of her fierce face,
+and even of the heavy oak staff with which she supported her failing
+limbs, was widespread through all the country round.
+
+Yet if she was feared she was also respected, for in days when books
+were few and readers scarce, a long memory and a ready tongue were of
+the more value; and where, save from Dame Ermyntrude, could the young
+unlettered Squires of Surrey and Hampshire hear of their grandfathers
+and their battles, or learn that lore of heraldry and chivalry which she
+handed down from a ruder but a more martial age? Poor as she was, there
+was no one in Surrey whose guidance would be more readily sought upon a
+question of precedence or of conduct than the Dame Ermyntrude Loring.
+
+She sat now with bowed back by the empty fireplace, and looked across
+at Nigel with all the harsh lines of her old ruddled face softening into
+love and pride. The young Squire was busy cutting bird-bolts for his
+crossbow, and whistling softly as he worked. Suddenly he looked up and
+caught the dark eyes which were fixed upon him. He leaned forward and
+patted the bony hand.
+
+"What hath pleased you, dear dame? I read pleasure in your eyes."
+
+"I have heard to-day, Nigel, how you came to win that great war-horse
+which stamps in our stable."
+
+"Nay, dame; I had told you that the monks had given it to me."
+
+"You said so, fair son, but never a word more. Yet the horse which you
+brought home was a very different horse I wot, to that which was given
+you. Why did you not tell me?"
+
+"I should think it shame to talk of such a thing."
+
+"So would your father before you, and his father no less. They would sit
+silent among the knights when the wine went round and listen to every
+man's deeds; but if perchance there was anyone who spoke louder than the
+rest and seemed to be eager for honor, then afterwards your father would
+pluck him softly by the sleeve and whisper in his ear to learn if there
+was any small vow of which he could relieve him, or if he would deign to
+perform some noble deed of arms upon his person. And if the man were a
+braggart and would go no further, your father would be silent and none
+would know it. But if he bore himself well, your father would spread his
+fame far and wide, but never make mention of himself."
+
+Nigel looked at the old woman with shining eyes. "I love to hear you
+speak of him," said he. "I pray you to tell me once more of the manner
+of his death."
+
+"He died as he had lived, a very courtly gentleman. It was at the great
+sea-battle upon the Norman coast, and your father was in command of the
+after-guard in the King's own ship. Now the French had taken a great
+English ship the year before when they came over and held the narrow
+seas and burned the town of Southampton.
+
+"This ship was the Christopher, and they placed it in the front of their
+battle; but the English closed upon it and stormed over its side, and
+slew all who were upon it.
+
+"But your father and Sir Lorredan of Genoa, who commanded the
+Christopher, fought upon the high poop, so that all the fleet stopped
+to watch it, and the King himself cried aloud at the sight, for Sir
+Lorredan was a famous man-at-arms and bore himself very stoutly that
+day, and many a knight envied your father that he should have chanced
+upon so excellent a person. But your father bore him back and struck
+him such a blow with a mace that he turned the helmet half round on
+his head, so that he could no longer see through the eye holes, and
+Sir Lorredan threw down his sword and gave himself to ransom. But your
+father took him by the helmet and twisted it until he had it straight
+upon his head. Then, when he could see once again, he handed him his
+sword, and prayed him that he would rest himself and then continue, for
+it was great profit and joy to see any gentleman carry himself so well.
+So they sat together and rested by the rail of the poop; but even as
+they raised their hands again your father was struck by a stone from a
+mangonel and so died."
+
+"And this Sir Lorredan," cried Nigel, "he died also, as I understand?"
+
+"I fear that he was slain by the archers, for they loved your father,
+and they do not see these things with our eyes."
+
+"It was a pity," said Nigel; "for it is clear that he was a good knight
+and bore himself very bravely."
+
+"Time was, when I was young, when commoners dared not have laid their
+grimy hands upon such a man. Men of gentle blood and coat-armor made
+war upon each other, and the others, spearmen or archers, could scramble
+amongst themselves. But now all are of a level, and only here and there
+one like yourself, fair son, who reminds me of the men who are gone."
+
+Nigel leaned forward and took her hands in his. "What I am you have made
+me," said he.
+
+"It is true, Nigel. I have indeed watched over you as the gardener
+watches his most precious blossom, for in you alone are all the hopes of
+our ancient house, and soon--very soon--you will be alone."
+
+"Nay, dear lady, say not that."
+
+"I am very old, Nigel, and I feel the shadow closing in upon me. My
+heart yearns to go, for all whom I have known and loved have gone before
+me. And you--it will be a blessed day for you, since I have held you
+back from that world into which your brave spirit longs to plunge."
+
+"Nay, nay, I have been happy here with you at Tilford."
+
+"We are very poor, Nigel. I do not know where we may find the money
+to fit you for the wars. Yet we have good friends. There is Sir John
+Chandos, who has won such credit in the French wars and who rides ever
+by the King's bridle-arm. He was your father's friend and they were
+Squires together. If I sent you to court with a message to him he would
+do what he could."
+
+Nigel's fair face flushed. "Nay, Dame Ermyntrude, I must find my own
+gear, even as I have found my own horse, for I had rather ride into
+battle in this tunic than owe my suit to another."
+
+"I feared that you would say so, Nigel; but indeed I know not how else
+we may get the money," said the old woman sadly. "It was different in
+the days of my father. I can remember that a suit of mail was but a
+small matter in those days, for in every English town such things could
+be made. But year by year since men have come to take more care of their
+bodies, there have been added a plate of proof here and a cunning joint
+there, and all must be from Toledo or Milan, so that a knight must have
+much metal in his purse ere he puts any on his limbs."
+
+Nigel looked up wistfully at the old armor which was slung on the beams
+above him. "The ash spear is good," said he, "and so is the oaken shield
+with facings of steel. Sir Roger FitzAlan handled them and said that he
+had never seen better. But the armor--"
+
+Lady Ermyntrude shook her old head and laughed. "You have your father's
+great soul, Nigel, but you have not his mighty breadth of shoulder and
+length of limb. There was not in all the King's great host a taller or
+a stronger man. His harness would be little use to you. No, fair son, I
+rede you that when the time comes you sell this crumbling house and the
+few acres which are still left, and so go forth to the wars in the hope
+that with your own right hand you will plant the fortunes of a new house
+of Loring."
+
+A shadow of anger passed over Nigel's fresh young face. "I know not if
+we may hold off these monks and their lawyers much longer. This very
+day there came a man from Guildford with claims from the Abbey extending
+back before my father's death."
+
+"Where are they, fair son?"
+
+"They are flapping on the furze-bushes of Hankley, for I sent his papers
+and parchments down wind as fast as ever falcon flew."
+
+"Nay! you were mad to do that, Nigel. And the man, where is he?"
+
+"Red Swire and old George the archer threw him into the Thursley bog."
+
+"Alas! I fear me such things cannot be done in these days, though
+my father or my husband would have sent the rascal back to Guildford
+without his ears. But the Church and the Law are too strong now for us
+who are of gentler blood. Trouble will come of it, Nigel, for the Abbot
+of Waverley is not one who will hold back the shield of the Church from
+those who are her servants."
+
+"The Abbot would not hurt us. It is that gray lean wolf of a sacrist who
+hungers for our land. Let him do his worst. I fear him not."
+
+"He has such an engine at his back, Nigel, that even the bravest must
+fear him. The ban which blasts a man's soul is in the keeping of his
+church, and what have we to place against it? I pray you to speak him
+fair, Nigel."
+
+"Nay, dear lady, it is both my duty and my pleasure to do what you bid
+me; but I would die ere I ask as a favor that which we can claim as a
+right. Never can I cast my eyes from yonder window that I do not see the
+swelling down-lands and the rich meadows, glade and dingle, copse and
+wood, which have been ours since Norman-William gave them to that Loring
+who bore his shield at Senlac. Now, by trick and fraud, they have passed
+away from us, and many a franklin is a richer man than I; but never
+shall it be said that I saved the rest by bending my neck to their yoke.
+Let them do their worst, and let me endure it or fight it as best I
+may."
+
+The old lady sighed and shook her head. "You speak as a Loring should,
+and yet I fear that some great trouble will befall us. But let us
+talk no more of such matters, since we cannot mend them. Where is your
+citole, Nigel? Will you not play and sing to me?"
+
+The gentleman of those days could scarce read and write; but he spoke
+in two languages, played at least one musical instrument as a matter of
+course, and possessed a number of other accomplishments, from the imping
+of hawk's feathers, to the mystery of venery, with knowledge of every
+beast and bird, its time of grace and when it was seasonable. As far as
+physical feats went, to vault barebacked upon a horse, to hit a running
+hare with a crossbow-bolt, or to climb the angle of a castle courtyard,
+were feats which had come by nature to the young Squire; but it was very
+different with music, which had called for many a weary hour of irksome
+work. Now at last he could master the strings, but both his ear and his
+voice were not of the best, so that it was well perhaps that there was
+so small and so unprejudiced an audience to the Norman-French chanson,
+which he sang in a high reedy voice with great earnestness of feeling,
+but with many a slip and quaver, waving his yellow head in cadence to
+the music:
+
+
+         A sword!  A sword!  Ah, give me a sword!
+           For the world is all to win.
+         Though the way be hard and the door be barred,
+           The strong man enters in.
+         If Chance and Fate still hold the gate,
+           Give me the iron key,
+         And turret high my plume shall fly,
+           Or you may weep for me!
+
+         A horse!  A horse!  Ah, give me a horse!
+           To bear me out afar,
+         Where blackest need and grimmest deed
+           And sweetest perils are.
+         Hold thou my ways from glutted days
+           Where poisoned leisure lies,
+         And point the path of tears and wrath
+           Which mounts to high emprise!
+
+         A heart!  A heart!  Ah, give me a heart
+           To rise to circumstance!
+         Serene and high and bold to try
+           The hazard of the chance,
+         With strength to wait, but fixed as fate
+            To plan and dare and do,
+         The peer of all, and only thrall,
+            Sweet lady mine, to you!
+
+It may have been that the sentiment went for more than the music, or it
+may have been the nicety of her own ears had been dulled by age, but old
+Dame Ermyntrude clapped her lean hands together and cried out in shrill
+applause.
+
+"Weathercote has indeed had an apt pupil!" she said. "I pray you that
+you will sing again."
+
+"Nay, dear dame, it is turn and turn betwixt you and me. I beg that you
+will recite a romance, you who know them all. For all the years that I
+have listened I have never yet come to the end of them, and I dare swear
+that there are more in your head than in all the great books which they
+showed me at Guildford Castle. I would fain hear 'Doon of Mayence,' or
+'The Song of Roland,' or 'Sir Isumbras.'"
+
+So the old dame broke into a long poem, slow and dull in the inception,
+but quickening as the interest grew, until with darting hands and
+glowing face she poured forth the verses which told of the emptiness of
+sordid life, the beauty of heroic death, the high sacredness of love and
+the bondage of honor. Nigel, with set, still features and brooding eyes,
+drank in the fiery words, until at last they died upon the old woman's
+lips and she sank back weary in her chair.
+
+Nigel stooped over her and kissed her brow. "Your words will ever be as
+a star upon my path," said he. Then, carrying over the small table and
+the chessmen, he proposed that they should play their usual game before
+they sought their rooms for the night.
+
+But a sudden and rude interruption broke in upon their gentle contest.
+A dog pricked its ears and barked. The others ran growling to the door.
+And then there came a sharp clash of arms, a dull heavy blow as from
+a club or sword-pommel, and a deep voice from without summoned them to
+open in the King's name. The old dame and Nigel had both sprung to their
+feet, their table overturned and their chessmen scattered among the
+rushes. Nigel's hand had sought his crossbow, but the Lady Ermyntrude
+grasped his arm.
+
+"Nay, fair son! Have you not heard that it is in the King's name?" said
+she. "Down, Talbot! Down, Bayard! Open the door and let his messenger
+in!"
+
+Nigel undid the bolt, and the heavy wooden door swung outward upon its
+hinges. The light from the flaring cressets beat upon steel caps and
+fierce bearded faces, with the glimmer of drawn swords and the yellow
+gleam of bowstaves. A dozen armed archers forced their way into the
+room. At their head were the gaunt sacrist of Waverley and a stout
+elderly man clad in a red velvet doublet and breeches much stained and
+mottled with mud and clay. He bore a great sheet of parchment with a
+fringe of dangling seals, which he held aloft as he entered.
+
+"I call on Nigel Loring!" he cried. "I, the officer of the King's law
+and the lay summoner of Waverley, call upon the man named Nigel Loring!"
+
+"I am he."
+
+"Yes, it is he!" cried the sacrist. "Archers, do as you were ordered!"
+
+In an instant the band threw themselves upon him like the hounds on a
+stag. Desperately Nigel strove to gain his sword which lay upon the iron
+coffer. With the convulsive strength which comes from the spirit rather
+than from the body, he bore them all in that direction, but the sacrist
+snatched the weapon from its place, and the rest dragged the writhing
+Squire to the ground and swathed him in a cord.
+
+"Hold him fast, good archers! Keep a stout grip on him!" cried the
+summoner. "I pray you, one of you, prick off these great dogs which
+snarl at my heels. Stand off, I say, in the name of the King! Watkin,
+come betwixt me and these creatures who have as little regard for the
+law as their master."
+
+One of the archers kicked off the faithful dogs. But there were others
+of the household who were equally ready to show their teeth in defense
+of the old house of Loring. From the door which led to their quarters
+there emerged the pitiful muster of Nigel's threadbare retainers. There
+was a time when ten knights, forty men-at-arms and two hundred archers
+would march behind the scarlet roses. Now at this last rally when the
+young head of the house lay bound in his own hall, there mustered at
+his call the page Charles with a cudgel, John the cook with his longest
+spit, Red Swire the aged man-at-arms with a formidable ax swung over
+his snowy head, and Weathercote the minstrel with a boar-spear. Yet this
+motley array was fired with the spirit of the house, and under the lead
+of the fierce old soldier they would certainly have flung themselves
+upon the ready swords of the archers, had the Lady Ermyntrude not swept
+between them:
+
+"Stand back, Swire!" she cried. "Back, Weathercote Charles, put a
+leash on Talbot, and hold Bayard back!" Her black eyes blazed upon the
+invaders until they shrank from that baleful gaze. "Who are you, you
+rascal robbers, who dare to misuse the King's name and to lay hands upon
+one whose smallest drop of blood has more worth than all your thrall and
+caitiff bodies?"
+
+"Nay, not so fast, dame, not so fast, I pray you!" cried the stout
+summoner, whose face had resumed its natural color, now that he had a
+woman to deal with. "There is a law of England, mark you, and there are
+those who serve and uphold it, who are the true men and the King's own
+lieges. Such a one am I. Then again, there are those who take such as
+me and transfer, carry or convey us into a bog or morass. Such a one is
+this graceless old man with the ax, whom I have seen already this day.
+There are also those who tear, destroy or scatter the papers of the law,
+of which this young man is the chief. Therefore, I would rede you, dame,
+not to rail against us, but to understand that we are the King's men on
+the King's own service."
+
+"What then is your errand in this house at this hour of the night?"
+
+The summoner cleared his throat pompously, and turning his parchment to
+the light of the cressets he read out a long document in Norman-French,
+couched in such a style and such a language that the most involved and
+foolish of our forms were simplicity itself compared to those by which
+the men of the long gown made a mystery of that which of all things on
+earth should be the plainest and the most simple. Despair fell cold upon
+Nigel's heart and blanched the face of the old dame as they listened to
+the dread catalogue of claims and suits and issues, questions of peccary
+and turbary, of house-bote and fire-bote, which ended by a demand for
+all the lands, hereditaments, tenements, messuages and curtilages, which
+made up their worldly all.
+
+Nigel, still bound, had been placed with his back against the iron
+coffer, whence he heard with dry lips and moist brow this doom of his
+house. Now he broke in on the recital with a vehemence which made the
+summoner jump:
+
+"You shall rue what you have done this night!" he cried. "Poor as we
+are, we have our friends who will not see us wronged, and I will plead
+my cause before the King's own majesty at Windsor, that he, who saw the
+father die, may know what things are done in his royal name against the
+son. But these matters are to be settled in course of law in the King's
+courts, and how will you excuse yourself for this assault upon my house
+and person?"
+
+"Nay, that is another matter," said the sacrist. "The question of debt
+may indeed be an affair of a civil court. But it is a crime against the
+law and an act of the Devil, which comes within the jurisdiction of the
+Abbey Court of Waverley when you dare to lay hands upon the summoner or
+his papers."
+
+"Indeed, he speaks truth," cried the official. "I know no blacker sin."
+
+"Therefore," said the stern monk, "it is the order of the holy father
+Abbot that you sleep this night in the Abbey cell, and that to-morrow
+you be brought before him at the court held in the chapter-house so that
+you receive the fit punishment for this and the many other violent and
+froward deeds which you have wrought upon the servants of Holy Church.
+Enough is now said, worthy master summoner. Archers, remove your
+prisoner!"
+
+As Nigel was lifted up by four stout archers, the Dame Ermyntrude would
+have rushed to his aid, but the sacrist thrust her back.
+
+"Stand off, proud woman! Let the law take its course, and learn to
+humble your heart before the power of Holy Church. Has your life not
+taught its lesson, you, whose horn was exalted among the highest and
+will soon not have a roof above your gray hairs? Stand back, I say, lest
+I lay a curse upon you!"
+
+The old dame flamed suddenly into white wrath as she stood before the
+angry monk: "Listen to me while I lay a curse upon you and yours!"
+she cried as she raised her shriveled arms and blighted him with her
+flashing eyes--
+
+"As you have done to the house of Loring, so may God do to you, until
+your power is swept from the land of England, and of your great Abbey
+of Waverley there is nothing left but a pile of gray stones in a green
+meadow! I see it! I see it! With my old eyes I see it! From scullion to
+Abbot and from cellar to tower, may Waverley and all within it droop and
+wither from this night on!"
+
+The monk, hard as he was, quailed before the frantic figure and the
+bitter, burning words. Already the summoner and the archers with their
+prisoner were clear of the house. He turned and with a clang he shut the
+heavy door behind him.
+
+
+
+V. HOW NIGEL WAS TRIED BY THE ABBOT OF WAVERLEY
+
+
+The law of the Middle Ages, shrouded as it was in old Norman-French
+dialect, and abounding in uncouth and incomprehensible terms, in
+deodands and heriots, in infang and outfang, was a fearsome weapon in
+the hands of those who knew how to use it. It was not for nothing that
+the first act of the rebel commoners was to hew off the head of the
+Lord Chancellor. In an age when few knew how to read or to write, these
+mystic phrases and intricate forms, with the parchments and seals which
+were their outward expression, struck cold terror into hearts which were
+steeled against mere physical danger.
+
+Even young Nigel Loring's blithe and elastic spirit was chilled as
+he lay that night in the penal cell of Waverley and pondered over the
+absolute ruin which threatened his house from a source against which all
+his courage was of no avail. As well take up sword and shield to defend
+himself against the black death, as against this blight of Holy Church.
+He was powerless in the grip of the Abbey. Already they had shorn off
+a field here and a grove there, and now in one sweep they would take in
+the rest, and where then was the home of the Lorings, and where should
+Lady Ermyntrude lay her aged head, or his old retainers, broken and
+spent, eke out the balance of their days? He shivered as he thought of
+it.
+
+It was very well for him to threaten to carry the matter before the
+King, but it was years since royal Edward had heard the name of Loring,
+and Nigel knew that the memory of princes was a short one. Besides, the
+Church was the ruling power in the palace as well as in the cottage, and
+it was only for very good cause that a King could be expected to cross
+the purposes of so high a prelate as the Abbot of Waverley, as long as
+they came within the scope of the law. Where then was he to look for
+help? With the simple and practical piety of the age, he prayed for the
+aid of his own particular saints: of Saint Paul, whose adventures by
+land and sea had always endeared him; of Saint George, who had gained
+much honorable advancement from the Dragon; and of Saint Thomas, who
+was a gentleman of coat-armor, who would understand and help a person of
+gentle blood. Then, much comforted by his naive orisons he enjoyed the
+sleep of youth and health until the entrance of the lay brother with the
+bread and small beer, which served as breakfast, in the morning.
+
+The Abbey court sat in the chapter-house at the canonical hour of
+tierce, which was nine in the forenoon. At all times the function was
+a solemn one, even when the culprit might be a villain who was taken
+poaching on the Abbey estate, or a chapman who had given false measure
+from his biased scales. But now, when a man of noble birth was to be
+tried, the whole legal and ecclesiastical ceremony was carried out with
+every detail, grotesque or impressive, which the full ritual prescribed.
+The distant roll of church music and the slow tolling of the Abbey bell;
+the white-robed brethren, two and two, walked thrice round the hall
+singing the "Benedicite" and the "Veni, Creator" before they settled in
+their places at the desks on either side. Then in turn each high officer
+of the Abbey from below upward, the almoner, the lector, the chaplain,
+the subprior and the prior, swept to their wonted places.
+
+Finally there came the grim sacrist, with demure triumph upon his
+downcast features, and at his heels Abbot John himself, slow and
+dignified, with pompous walk and solemn, composed face, his iron-beaded
+rosary swinging from his waist, his breviary in his hand, and his lips
+muttering as he hurried through his office for the day. He knelt at his
+high prie-dieu; the brethren, at a signal from the prior, prostrated
+themselves upon the floor, and the low deep voices rolled in prayer,
+echoed back from the arched and vaulted roof like the wash of waves from
+an ocean cavern. Finally the monks resumed their seats; there entered
+clerks in seemly black with pens and parchment; the red-velveted
+summoner appeared to tell his tale; Nigel was led in with archers
+pressing close around him; and then, with much calling of old French and
+much legal incantation and mystery, the court of the Abbey was open for
+business.
+
+It was the sacrist who first advanced to the oaken desk reserved for the
+witnesses and expounded in hard, dry, mechanical fashion the many claims
+which the House, of Waverley had against the family of Loring. Some
+generations back in return for money advanced or for spiritual favor
+received the Loring of the day had admitted that his estate had certain
+feudal duties toward the Abbey. The sacrist held up the crackling yellow
+parchment with swinging leaden seals on which the claim was based. Amid
+the obligations was that of escuage, by which the price of a knight's
+fee should be paid every year. No such price had been paid, nor had any
+service been done. The accumulated years came now to a greater sum than
+the fee simple of the estate. There were other claims also. The sacrist
+called for his books, and with thin, eager forefinger he tracked them
+down: dues for this, and tailage for that, so many shillings this year,
+and so many marks that one. Some of it occurred before Nigel was born;
+some of it when he was but a child. The accounts had been checked and
+certified by the sergeant of the law.
+
+Nigel listened to the dread recital, and felt like some young stag who
+stands at bay with brave pose and heart of fire, but who sees himself
+compassed round and knows clearly that there is no escape. With his bold
+young face, his steady blue eyes, and the proud poise of his head, he
+was a worthy scion of the old house, and the sun, shining through the
+high oriel window, and showing up the stained and threadbare condition
+of his once rich doublet, seemed to illuminate the fallen fortunes of
+his family.
+
+The sacrist had finished his exposition, and the sergeant-at-law was
+about to conclude a case which Nigel could in no way controvert, when
+help came to him from an unexpected quarter. It may have been a certain
+malignity with which the sacrist urged his suit, it may have been a
+diplomatic dislike to driving matters to extremes, or it may have been
+some genuine impulse of kindliness, for Abbot John was choleric but
+easily appeased. Whatever the cause, the result was that a white plump
+hand, raised in the air with a gesture of authority, showed that the
+case was at an end.
+
+"Our brother sacrist hath done his duty in urging this suit," said he,
+"for the worldly wealth of this Abbey is placed in his pious keeping,
+and it is to him that we should look if we suffered in such ways, for we
+are but the trustees of those who come after us. But to my keeping has
+been consigned that which is more precious still, the inner spirit and
+high repute of those who follow the rule of Saint Bernard. Now it has
+ever been our endeavor, since first our saintly founder went down into
+the valley of Clairvaux and built himself a cell there, that we should
+set an example to all men in gentleness and humility. For this reason
+it is that we built our houses in lowly places, that we have no tower to
+our Abbey churches, and that no finery and no metal, save only iron or
+lead, come within our walls. A brother shall eat from a wooden platter,
+drink from an iron cup, and light himself from a leaden sconce. Surely
+it is not for such an order who await the exaltation which is promised
+to the humble, to judge their own case and so acquire the lands of their
+neighbor! If our cause be just, as indeed I believe that it is, then it
+were better that it be judged at the King's assizes at Guildford, and so
+I decree that the case be now dismissed from the Abbey court so that it
+can be heard elsewhere."
+
+Nigel breathed a prayer to the three sturdy saints who had stood by him
+so manfully and well in the hour of his need. "Abbot John," said he, "I
+never thought that any man of my name would utter thanks to a Cistercian
+of Waverley; but by Saint Paul! you have spoken like a man this day, for
+it would indeed be to play with cogged dice if the Abbey's case is to be
+tried in the Abbey court."
+
+The eighty white-clad brethren looked with half resentful, half amused
+eyes as they listened to this frank address to one who, in their small
+lives, seemed to be the direct vice-regent of Heaven. The archers had
+stood back from Nigel, as though he was at liberty to go, when the loud
+voice of the summoner broke in upon the silence--
+
+"If it please you, holy father Abbot," cried the voice, "this decision
+of yours is indeed secundum legem and intra vires so far as the civil
+suit is concerned which lies between this person and the Abbey. That is
+your affair; but it is I, Joseph the summoner, who have been grievously
+and criminally mishandled, my writs, papers and indentures destroyed,
+my authority flouted, and my person dragged through a bog, quagmire or
+morass, so that my velvet gabardine and silver badge of office were
+lost and are, as I verily believe, in the morass, quagmire or bog
+aforementioned, which is the same bog, morass--"
+
+"Enough!" cried the Abbot sternly. "Lay aside this foolish fashion of
+speech and say straitly what you desire."
+
+"Holy father, I have been the officer of the King's law no less than the
+servant of Holy Church, and I have been let, hindered and assaulted in
+the performance of my lawful and proper duties, whilst my papers, drawn
+in the King's name, have been shended and rended and cast to the wind.
+Therefore, I demand justice upon this man in the Abbey court, the
+said assault having been committed within the banlieue of the Abbey's
+jurisdiction."
+
+"What have you to say to this, brother sacrist?" asked the Abbot in some
+perplexity.
+
+"I would say, father, that it is within our power to deal gently and
+charitably with all that concerns ourselves, but that where a the King's
+officer is concerned we are wanting in our duty if we give him less than
+the protection that he demands. I would remind you also, holy father,
+that this is not the first of this man's violence, but that he has
+before now beaten our servants, defied our authority, and put pike in
+the Abbot's own fish-pond."
+
+The prelate's heavy cheeks flushed with anger as this old grievance came
+fresh into his mind. His eyes hardened as he looked at the prisoner.
+"Tell me, Squire Nigel, did you indeed put pike in the pond?"
+
+The young man drew himself proudly up. "Ere I answer such a question,
+father Abbot, do you answer one from me, and tell me what the monks of
+Waverley have ever done for me that I should hold my hand when I could
+injure them?"
+
+A low murmur ran round the room, partly wonder at his frankness, and
+partly anger at his boldness.
+
+The Abbot settled down in his seat as one who has made up his mind. "Let
+the case of the summoner be laid before me," said he. "Justice shall be
+done, and the offender shall be punished, be he noble or simple. Let the
+plaint be brought before the court."
+
+The tale of the summoner, though rambling and filled with endless legal
+reiteration, was only too clear in its essence. Red Swire, with his
+angry face framed in white bristles, was led in, and confessed to his
+ill treatment of the official. A second culprit, a little wiry nut-brown
+archer from Churt, had aided and abetted in the deed. Both of them were
+ready to declare that young Squire Nigel Loring knew nothing of the
+matter. But then there was the awkward incident of the tearing of the
+writs. Nigel, to whom a lie was an impossibility, had to admit that with
+his own hands he had shredded those august documents. As to an excuse or
+an explanation, he was too proud to advance any. A cloud gathered over
+the brow of the Abbot, and the sacrist gazed with an ironical smile at
+the prisoner, while a solemn hush fell over the chapter-house as the
+case ended and only, judgment remained.
+
+"Squire Nigel," said the Abbot, "it was for you, who are, as all men
+know, of ancient lineage in this land, to give a fair example by which
+others should set their conduct. Instead of this, your manor house has
+ever been a center for the stirring up of strife, and now not content
+with your harsh showing toward us, the Cistercian monks of Waverley,
+you have even marked your contempt for the King's law, and through your
+servants have mishandled the person of his messenger. For such offenses
+it is in my power to call the spiritual terrors of the Church upon your
+head, and yet I would not be harsh with you, seeing that you are young,
+and that even last week you saved the life of a servant of the Abbey
+when in peril. Therefore, it is by temporal and carnal means that I
+will use my power to tame your overbold spirit, and to chasten that
+headstrong and violent humor which has caused such scandal in your
+dealings with our Abbey. Bread and water for six weeks from now to the
+Feast of Saint Benedict, with a daily exhortation from our chaplain,
+the pious Father Ambrose, may still avail to bend the stiff neck and to
+soften the hard heart."
+
+At this ignominious sentence by which the proud heir of the house of
+Loring would share the fate of the meanest village poacher, the hot
+blood of Nigel rushed to his face, and his eye glanced round him with
+a gleam which said more plainly than words that there could be no tame
+acceptance of such a doom. Twice he tried to speak, and twice his anger
+and his shame held the words in his throat.
+
+"I am no subject of yours, proud Abbot!" he cried at last. "My house has
+ever been vavasor to the King. I deny the power of you and your court to
+lay sentence upon me. Punish these your own monks, who whimper at your
+frown, but do not dare to lay your hand upon him who fears you not, for
+he is a free man, and the peer of any save only the King himself."
+
+The Abbot seemed for an instant taken aback by these bold words, and by
+the high and strenuous voice in which they were uttered. But the sterner
+sacrist came as ever to stiffen his will. He held up the old parchment
+in his hand.
+
+"The Lorings were indeed vavasors to the King," said he; "but here is
+the very seal of Eustace Loring which shows that he made himself vassal
+to the Abbey and held his land from it."
+
+"Because he was gentle," cried Nigel, "because he had no thought of
+trick or guile."
+
+"Nay!" said the summoner. "If my voice may be heard, father Abbot, upon
+a point of the law, it is of no weight what the causes may have been why
+a deed is subscribed, signed or confirmed, but a court is concerned only
+with the terms, articles, covenants and contracts of the said deed."
+
+"Besides," said the sacrist, "sentence is passed by the Abbey court, and
+there is an end of its honor and good name if it be not upheld."
+
+"Brother sacrist," said the Abbot angrily, "methinks you show overmuch
+zeal in this case, and certes, we are well able to uphold the dignity
+and honor of the Abbey court without any rede of thine. As to you,
+worthy summoner, you will give your opinion when we crave for it, and
+not before, or you may yourself get some touch of the power of our
+tribunal. But your case hath been tried, Squire Loring, and judgment
+given. I have no more to say."
+
+He motioned with his hand, and an archer laid his grip upon the shoulder
+of the prisoner. But that rough plebeian touch woke every passion of
+revolt in Nigel's spirit. Of all his high line of ancestors, was there
+one who had been subjected to such ignominy as this? Would they not have
+preferred death? And should he be the first to lower their spirit or
+their traditions? With a quick, lithe movement, he slipped under the arm
+of the archer, and plucked the short, straight sword from the soldier's
+side as he did so. The next instant he had wedged himself into the
+recess of one of the narrow windows, and there were his pale set face,
+his burning eyes, and his ready blade turned upon the assembly.
+
+"By Saint Paul!" said he, "I never thought to find honorable advancement
+under the roof of an abbey, but perchance there may, be some room for it
+ere you hale me to your prison."
+
+The chapter-house was in an uproar. Never in the long and decorous
+history of the Abbey had such a scene been witnessed within its walls.
+The monks themselves seemed for an instant to be infected by this spirit
+of daring revolt. Their own lifelong fetters hung more loosely as they
+viewed this unheard-of defiance of authority. They broke from their
+seats on either side and huddled half-scared, half-fascinated, in a
+large half-circle round the defiant captive, chattering, pointing,
+grimacing, a scandal for all time. Scourges should fall and penance be
+done for many a long week before the shadow of that day should pass from
+Waverley. But meanwhile there was no effort to bring them back to their
+rule. Everything was chaos and disorder. The Abbot had left his seat of
+justice and hurried angrily forward, to be engulfed and hustled in the
+crowd of his own monks like a sheep-dog who finds himself entangled amid
+a flock.
+
+Only the sacrist stood clear. He had taken shelter behind the half-dozen
+archers, who looked with some approval and a good deal of indecision at
+this bold fugitive from justice.
+
+"On him!" cried the sacrist. "Shall he defy the authority of the court,
+or shall one man hold six of you at bay? Close in upon him and seize
+him. You, Baddlesmere, why do you hold back?"
+
+The man in question, a tall bushy-bearded fellow, clad like the others
+in green jerkin and breeches with high brown boots, advanced slowly,
+sword in hand, against Nigel. His heart was not in the business, for
+these clerical courts were not popular, and everyone had a tender heart
+for the fallen fortunes of the house of Loring and wished well to its
+young heir.
+
+"Come, young sir, you have caused scathe enough," said he. "Stand forth
+and give yourself up!"
+
+"Come and fetch me, good fellow," said Nigel, with a dangerous smile.
+
+The archer ran in. There was a rasp of steel, a blade flickered like a
+swift dart of flame, and the man staggered back, with blood running down
+his forearm and dripping from his fingers. He wrung them and growled a
+Saxon oath.
+
+"By the black rood of Bromeholm!" he cried, "I had as soon put my hand
+down a fox's earth to drag up a vixen from her cubs."
+
+"Standoff!" said Nigel curtly. "I would not hurt you; but by Saint Paul!
+I will not be handled, or some one will be hurt in the handling."
+
+So fierce was his eye and so menacing his blade as he crouched in the
+narrow bay of the window that the little knot of archers were at a loss
+what to do. The Abbot had forced his way through the crowd and stood,
+purple with outraged dignity, at their side.
+
+"He is outside the law," said he. "He hath shed blood in a court of
+justice, and for such a sin there is no forgiveness. I will not have my
+court so flouted and set at naught. He who draws the sword, by the sword
+also let him perish. Forester Hugh lay a shaft to your bow!"
+
+The man, who was one of the Abbey's lay servants, put his weight upon
+his long bow and slipped the loose end of the string into the upper
+notch. Then, drawing one of the terrible three-foot arrows, steel-tipped
+and gaudily winged, from his waist, he laid it to the string.
+
+"Now draw your bow and hold it ready!" cried the furious Abbot. "Squire
+Nigel, it is not for Holy Church to shed blood, but there is naught but
+violence which will prevail against the violent, and on your head be the
+sin. Cast down the sword which you hold in your hand!"
+
+"Will you give me freedom to leave your Abbey?"
+
+"When you have abided your sentence and purged your sin."
+
+"Then I had rather die where I stand than give up my sword."
+
+A dangerous flame lit in the Abbot's eyes. He came of a fighting Norman
+stock, like so many of those fierce prelates who, bearing a mace lest
+they should be guilty of effusion of blood, led their troops into
+battle, ever remembering that it was one of their own cloth and dignity
+who, crosier in hand, had turned the long-drawn bloody day of Hastings.
+The soft accent of the churchman was gone and it was the hard voice of a
+soldier which said--
+
+"One minute I give you, and no more. Then when I cry 'Loose!' drive me
+an arrow through his body."
+
+The shaft was fitted, the bow was bent, and the stern eyes of the
+woodman were fixed on his mark. Slowly the minute passed, while Nigel
+breathed a prayer to his three soldier saints, not that they should save
+his body in this life, but that they should have a kindly care for his
+soul in the next. Some thought of a fierce wildcat sally crossed his
+mind, but once out of his corner he was lost indeed. Yet at the last
+he would have rushed among his enemies, and his body was bent for the
+spring, when with a deep sonorous hum, like a breaking harp-string,
+the cord of the bow was cloven in twain, and the arrow tinkled upon the
+tiled floor. At the same moment a young curly-headed bowman, whose broad
+shoulders and deep chest told of immense strength, as clearly as
+his frank, laughing face and honest hazel eyes did of good humor and
+courage, sprang forward sword in hand and took his place by Nigel's
+side.
+
+"Nay, comrades!" said he. "Samkin Aylward cannot stand by and see a
+gallant man shot down like a bull at the end of a baiting. Five
+against one is long odds; but two against four is better, and by my
+finger-bones! Squire Nigel and I leave this room together, be it on our
+feet or no."
+
+The formidable appearance of this ally and his high reputation among
+his fellows gave a further chill to the lukewarm ardor of the attack.
+Aylward's left arm was passed through his strung bow, and he was known
+from Woolmer Forest to the Weald as the quickest, surest archer that
+ever dropped a running deer at tenscore paces.
+
+"Nay, Baddlesmere, hold your fingers from your string-case, or I may
+chance to give your drawing hand a two months' rest," said Aylward.
+"Swords, if you will, comrades, but no man strings his bow till I have
+loosed mine."
+
+Yet the angry hearts of both Abbot and sacrist rose higher with a fresh
+obstacle.
+
+"This is an ill day for your father, Franklin Aylward, who holds the
+tenancy of Crooksbury," said the sacrist. "He will rue it that ever he
+begot a son who will lose him his acres and his steading."
+
+"My father is a bold yeoman, and would rue it evermore that ever his son
+should stand by while foul work was afoot," said Aylward stoutly. "Fall
+on, comrades! We are waiting."
+
+Encouraged by promises of reward if they should fall in the service of
+the Abbey, and by threats of penalties if they should hold back, the
+four archers were about to close, when a singular interruption gave an
+entirely new turn to the proceedings.
+
+At the door of the chapter-house, while these fiery doings had been
+afoot, there had assembled a mixed crowd of lay brothers, servants and
+varlets who had watched the development of the drama with the interest
+and delight with which men hail a sudden break in a dull routine.
+Suddenly there was an agitation at the back of this group, then a swirl
+in the center, and finally the front rank was violently thrust aside,
+and through the gap there emerged a strange and whimsical figure, who
+from the instant of his appearance dominated both chapter-house and
+Abbey, monks, prelates and archers, as if he were their owner and their
+master.
+
+He was a man somewhat above middle age, with thin lemon- hair, a
+curling mustache, a tufted chin of the same hue, and a high craggy face,
+all running to a great hook of the nose, like the beak of an eagle. His
+skin was tanned a brown-red by much exposure to the wind and sun. In
+height he was tall, and his figure was thin and loose-jointed, but
+stringy and hard-bitten. One eye was entirely covered by its lid, which
+lay flat over an empty socket, but the other danced and sparkled with a
+most roguish light, darting here and there with a twinkle of humor and
+criticism and intelligence, the whole fire of his soul bursting through
+that one narrow cranny.
+
+His dress was as noteworthy as his person. A rich purple doublet and
+cloak was marked on the lapels with a strange scarlet device shaped like
+a wedge. Costly lace hung round his shoulders, and amid its soft folds
+there smoldered the dull red of a heavy golden chain. A knight's belt
+at his waist and a knight's golden spurs twinkling from his doeskin
+riding-boots proclaimed his rank, and on the wrist of his left gauntlet
+there sat a demure little hooded falcon of a breed which in itself was a
+mark of the dignity of the owner. Of weapons he had none, but a mandolin
+was slung by a black silken band over his back, and the high brown
+end projected above his shoulder. Such was the man, quaint, critical,
+masterful, with a touch of what is formidable behind it, who now
+surveyed the opposing groups of armed men and angry monks with an eye
+which commanded their attention.
+
+"Excusez!" said he, in a lisping French. "Excusez, mes amis! I had
+thought to arouse from prayer or meditation, but never have I seen
+such a holy exercise as this under an abbey's roof, with swords for
+breviaries and archers for acolytes. I fear that I have come amiss, and
+yet I ride on an errand from one who permits no delay."
+
+The Abbot, and possibly the sacrist also, had begun to realize that
+events had gone a great deal farther than they had intended, and that
+without an extreme scandal it was no easy matter for them to save
+their dignity and the good name of Waverley. Therefore, in spite of
+the debonair, not to say disrespectful, bearing of the newcomer, they
+rejoiced at his appearance and intervention.
+
+"I am the Abbot of Waverley, fair son," said the prelate. "If your
+message deal with a public matter it may be fitly repeated in the
+chapter-house; if not I will give you audience in my own chamber; for
+it is clear to me that you are a gentle man of blood and coat-armor who
+would not lightly break in upon the business of our court--a business
+which, as you have remarked, is little welcome to men of peace like
+myself and the brethren of the rule of Saint Bernard."
+
+"Pardieu! Father Abbot," said the stranger. "One had but to glance at
+you and your men to see that the business was indeed little to your
+taste, and it may be even less so when I say that rather than see this
+young person in the window, who hath a noble bearing, further molested
+by these archers, I will myself adventure my person on his behalf."
+
+The Abbot's smile turned to a frown at these frank words. "It would
+become you better, sir, to deliver the message of which you say that you
+are the bearer, than to uphold a prisoner against the rightful judgment
+of a court."
+
+The stranger swept the court with his questioning eye. "The message is
+not for you, good father Abbot. It is for one whom I know not. I have
+been to his house, and they have sent me hither. The name is Nigel
+Loring."
+
+"It is for me, fair sir."
+
+"I had thought as much. I knew your father, Eustace Loring, and though
+he would have made two of you, yet he has left his stamp plain enough
+upon your face."
+
+"You know not the truth of this matter," said the Abbot. "If you are
+a loyal man, you will stand aside, for this young man hath grievously
+offended against the law, and it is for the King's lieges to give us
+their support."
+
+"And you have haled him up for judgment," cried the stranger with much
+amusement. "It is as though a rookery sat in judgment upon a falcon. I
+warrant that you have found it easier to judge than to punish. Let me
+tell you, father Abbot, that this standeth not aright. When powers such
+as these were given to the like of you, they were given that you might
+check a brawling underling or correct a drunken woodman, and not that
+you might drag the best blood in England to your bar and set your
+archers on him if he questioned your findings."
+
+The Abbot was little used to hear such words of reproof uttered in so
+stern a voice under his own abbey roof and before his listening monks.
+"You may perchance find that an Abbey court has more powers than you
+wot of, Sir Knight," said he, "if knight indeed you be who are so
+uncourteous and short in your speech. Ere we go further, I would ask
+your name and style?"
+
+The stranger laughed. "It is easy to see that you are indeed men of
+peace," said he proudly. "Had I shown this sign," and he touched the
+token upon his lapels, "whether on shield or pennon, in the marches of
+France or Scotland, there is not a cavalier but would have known the red
+pile of Chandos."
+
+Chandos, John Chandos, the flower of English chivalry, the pink of
+knight-errantry, the hero already of fifty desperate enterprises, a man
+known and honored from end to end of Europe! Nigel gazed at him as
+one who sees a vision. The archers stood back abashed, while the monks
+crowded closer to stare at the famous soldier of the French wars. The
+Abbot abated his tone, and a smile came to his angry face.
+
+"We are indeed men of peace, Sir John, and little skilled in warlike
+blazonry," said he; "yet stout as are our Abbey walls, they are not so
+thick that the fame of your exploits has not passed through them and
+reached our ears. If it be your pleasure to take an interest in this
+young and misguided Squire, it is not for us to thwart your kind
+intention or to withhold such grace as you request. I am glad indeed
+that he hath one who can set him so fair an example for a friend."
+
+"I thank you for your courtesy, good father Abbot," said Chandos
+carelessly. "This young Squire has, however, a better friend than
+myself, one who is kinder to those he loves and more terrible to those
+he hates. It is from him I bear a message."
+
+"I pray you, fair and honored sir," said Nigel, "that you will tell me
+what is the message that you bear."
+
+"The message, mon ami, is that your friend comes into these parts and
+would have a night's lodging at the manor house of Tilford for the love
+and respect that he bears your family."
+
+"Nay, he is most welcome," said Nigel, "and yet I hope that he is one
+who can relish a soldier's fare and sleep under a humble roof, for
+indeed we can but give our best, poor as it is."
+
+"He is indeed a soldier and a good one," Chandos answered, laughing,
+"and I warrant he has slept in rougher quarters than Tilford
+Manor-house."
+
+"I have few friends, fair sir," said Nigel, with a puzzled face. "I pray
+you give me this gentleman's name."
+
+"His name is Edward."
+
+"Sir Edward Mortimer of Kent, perchance, or is it Sir Edward Brocas of
+whom the Lady Ermyntrude talks?"
+
+"Nay, he is known as Edward only, and if you ask a second name it is
+Plantagenet, for he who comes to seek the shelter of your roof is your
+liege lord and mine, the King's high majesty, Edward of England."
+
+
+
+
+VI. IN WHICH LADY ERMYNTRUDE OPENS THE IRON COFFER
+
+
+AS in a dream Nigel heard these stupendous and incredible words. As in
+a dream also he had a vision of a smiling and conciliatory Abbot, of an
+obsequious sacrist, and of a band of archers who cleared a path for him
+and for the King's messenger through the motley crowd who had choked the
+entrance of the Abbey court. A minute later he was walking by the side
+of Chandos through the peaceful cloister, and in front in the open
+archway of the great gate was the broad yellow road between its borders
+of green meadow-land. The spring air was the sweeter and the more
+fragrant for that chill dread of dishonor and captivity which had so
+recently frozen his ardent heart. He had already passed the portal when
+a hand plucked at his sleeve and he turned to find himself confronted by
+the brown honest face and hazel eyes of the archer who had interfered in
+his behalf.
+
+"Well," said Aylward, "what have you to say to me, young sir?"
+
+"What can I say, my good fellow, save that I thank you with all my
+heart? By Saint Paul! if you had been my blood brother you could not
+have stood by me more stoutly."
+
+"Nay! but this is not enough."
+
+Nigel  with vexation, and the more so as Chandos was listening
+with his critical smile to their conversation. "If you had heard what
+was said in the court," said he, "you would understand that I am not
+blessed at this moment with much of this world's gear. The black death
+and the monks have between them been heavy upon our estate. Willingly
+would I give you a handful of gold for your assistance, since that is
+what you seem to crave; but indeed I have it not, and so once more I say
+that you must be satisfied with my thanks."
+
+"Your gold is nothing to me," said Aylward shortly, "nor would you buy
+my loyalty if you filled my wallet with rose nobles, so long as you were
+not a man after my own heart. But I have seen you back the yellow horse,
+and I have seen you face the Abbot of Waverley, and you are such a
+master as I would very gladly serve if you have by chance a place for
+such a man. I have seen your following, and I doubt not that they were
+stout fellows in your grandfather's time; but which of them now would
+draw a bow-string to his ear? Through you I have left the service of the
+Abbey of Waverley, and where can I look now for a post? If I stay here I
+am all undone like a fretted bow-string."
+
+"Nay, there can be no difficulty there," said Chandos. "Pardieu! a
+roistering, swaggering dare-devil archer is worth his price on the
+French border. There are two hundred such who march behind my own
+person, and I would ask nothing better than to see you among them."
+
+"I thank you, noble sir, for your offer," said Aylward, "and I had
+rather follow your banner than many another one, for it is well known
+that it goes ever forward, and I have heard enough of the wars to know
+that there are small pickings for the man who lags behind. Yet, if the
+Squire will have me, I would choose to fight under the five roses of
+Loring, for though I was born in the hundred of Easebourne and the rape
+of Chichester, yet I have grown up and learned to use the longbow in
+these parts, and as the free son of a free franklin I had rather serve
+my own neighbor than a stranger."
+
+"My good fellow," said Nigel, "I have told you that I could in no wise
+reward you for such service."
+
+"If you will but take me to the wars I will see to my own reward," said
+Aylward. "Till then I ask for none, save a corner of your table and six
+feet of your floor, for it is certain that the only reward I would get
+from the Abbey for this day's work would be the scourge for my back and
+the stocks for my ankles. Samkin Aylward is your man, Squire Nigel, from
+this hour on, and by these ten finger-bones he trusts the Devil will
+fly away with him if ever he gives you cause to regret it!" So saying he
+raised his hand to his steel cap in salute, slung his great yellow bow
+over his back, and followed on some paces in the rear of his new master.
+
+"Pardieu! I have arrived a la bonne heure," said Chandos. "I rode from
+Windsor and came to your manor house, to find it empty save for a fine
+old dame, who told me of your troubles. From her I walked across to the
+Abbey, and none too soon, for what with cloth-yard shafts for your
+body, and bell, book and candle for your soul, it was no very cheerful
+outlook. But here is the very dame herself, if I mistake not."
+
+It was indeed the formidable figure of the Lady Ermyntrude, gaunt,
+bowed and leaning on her staff, which had emerged from the door of the
+manor-house and advanced to greet them. She croaked with laughter, and
+shook her stick at the great building as she heard of the discomfiture
+of the Abbey court. Then she led the way into the hall where the best
+which she could provide had been laid out for their illustrious guest.
+There was Chandos blood in her own veins, traceable back through the de
+Greys, de Multons, de Valences, de Montagues and other high and noble
+strains, so that the meal had been eaten and cleared before she had done
+tracing the network of intermarriages and connections, with quarterings,
+impalements, lozenges and augmentations by which the blazonry of the two
+families might be made to show a common origin. Back to the Conquest and
+before it there was not a noble family-tree every twig and bud of which
+was not familiar to the Dame Ermyntrude.
+
+And now when the trestles were cleared and the three were left alone in
+the hall, Chandos broke his message to the lady. "King Edward hath ever
+borne in mind that noble knight your son Sir Eustace," said he. "He will
+journey to Southampton next week, and I am his harbinger. He bade me
+say, noble and honored lady, that he would come from Guildford in any
+easy stage so that he might spend one night under your roof."
+
+The old dame flushed with pleasure, and then turned white with vexation
+at the words. "It is in truth great honor to the house of Loring," said
+she, "yet our roof is now humble and, as you have seen, our fare is
+plain. The King knows not that we are so poor. I fear lest we seem
+churlish and niggard in his eyes."
+
+But Chandos reasoned away her fears. The King's retinue would journey
+on to Farnham Castle. There were no ladies in his party. Though he was
+King, still he was a hardy soldier, and cared little for his ease. In
+any case, since he had declared his coming, they must make the best
+of it. Finally, with all delicacy, Chandos offered his own purse if it
+would help in the matter. But already the Lady Ermyntrude had recovered
+her composure.
+
+"Nay, fair kinsman, that may not be," said she. "I will make such
+preparation as I may for the King. He will bear in mind that if the
+house of Loring can give nothing else, they have always held their blood
+and their lives at his disposal."
+
+Chandos was to ride on to Farnham Castle and beyond, but he expressed
+his desire to have a warm bath ere he left Tilford, for like most of his
+fellow-knights, he was much addicted to simmering in the hottest
+water that he could possibly endure. The bath therefore, a high hooped
+arrangement like a broader but shorter churn, was carried into the
+privacy of the guest-chamber, and thither it was that Nigel was summoned
+to hold him company while he stewed and sweltered in his tub.
+
+Nigel perched himself upon the side of the high bed, swinging his legs
+over the edge and gazing with wonder and amusement at the quaint face,
+the ruffled yellow hair, and the sinewy shoulders of the famous warrior,
+dimly seen amid a pillar of steam. He was in a mood for talk; so Nigel
+with eager lips plied him with a thousand questions about the wars,
+hanging upon every word which came back to him, like those of the
+ancient oracles, out of the mist and the cloud. To Chandos himself, the
+old soldier for whom war had lost its freshness, it was a renewal of his
+own ardent youth to listen to Nigel's rapid questions and to mark the
+rapt attention with which he listened.
+
+"Tell me of the Welsh, honored sir," asked the Squire. "What manner of
+soldiers are the Welsh?"
+
+"They are very valiant men of war," said Chandos, splashing about in his
+tub. "There is good skirmishing to be had in their valleys if you ride
+with a small following. They flare up like a furzebush in the flames,
+but if for a short space you may abide the heat of it, then there is a
+chance that it may be cooler."
+
+"And the Scotch?" asked Nigel. "You have made war upon them also, as I
+understand."
+
+"The Scotch knights have no masters in the world, and he who can hold
+his own with the best of them, be it a Douglas, a Murray or a Seaton,
+has nothing more to learn. Though you be a hard man, you will always
+meet as hard a one if you ride northward. If the Welsh be like the furze
+fire, then, pardieu! the Scotch are the peat, for they will smolder and
+you will never come to the end of them. I have had many happy hours
+on the marches of Scotland, for even if there be no war the Percies of
+Alnwick or the Governor of Carlisle can still raise a little bickering
+with the border clans."
+
+"I bear in mind that my father was wont to say that they were very stout
+spearmen."
+
+"No better in the world, for the spears are twelve foot long and they
+hold them in very thick array; but their archers are weak, save only the
+men of Ettrick and Selkirk who come from the forest. I pray you to open
+the lattice, Nigel, for the steam is overthick. Now in Wales it is the
+spearmen who are weak, and there are no archers in these islands like
+the men of Gwent with their bows of elm, which shoot with such power
+that I have known a cavalier to have his horse killed when the shaft
+had passed through his mail breeches, his thigh and his saddle. And yet,
+what is the most strongly shot arrow to these new balls of iron driven
+by the fire-powder which will crush a man's armor as an egg is crushed
+by a stone? Our fathers knew them not."
+
+"Then the better for us," cried Nigel, "since there is at least one
+honorable venture which is all our own."
+
+Chandos chuckled and turned upon the flushed youth a twinkling and
+sympathetic eye. "You have a fashion of speech which carries me back to
+the old men whom I met in my boyhood," said he. "There were some of the
+real old knight-errants left in those days, and they spoke as you do.
+Young as you are, you belong to another age. Where got you that trick of
+thought and word?"
+
+"I have had only one to teach me, the Lady Ermyntrude."
+
+"Pardieu! she has trained a proper young hawk ready to stoop at a lordly
+quarry," said Chandos. "I would that I had the first unhooding of you.
+Will you not ride with me to the wars?"
+
+The tears brimmed over from Nigel's eyes, and he wrung the gaunt hand
+extended from the bath. "By Saint Paul! what could I ask better in the
+world? I fear to leave her, for she has none other to care for her. But
+if it can in any way be arranged--"
+
+"The King's hand may smooth it out. Say no more until he is here. But if
+you wish to ride with me--"
+
+"What could man wish for more? Is there a Squire in England who would
+not serve under the banner of Chandos! Whither do you go, fair sir? And
+when do you go? Is it to Scotland? Is it to Ireland? Is it to France?
+But alas, alas!"
+
+The eager face had clouded. For the instant he had forgotten that a suit
+of armor was as much beyond his means as a service of gold plate. Down
+in a twinkling came all his high hopes to the ground. Oh, these sordid
+material things, which come between our dreams and their fulfilment! The
+Squire of such a knight must dress with the best. Yet all the fee simple
+of Tilford would scarce suffice for one suit of plate.
+
+Chandos, with his quick wit and knowledge of the world, had guessed the
+cause of this sudden change. "If you fight under my banner it is for me
+to find the weapons," said he. "Nay, I will not be denied."
+
+But Nigel shook his head sadly. "It may not be. The Lady Ermyntrude
+would sell this old house and every acre round it, ere she would permit
+me to accept this gracious bounty which you offer. Yet I do not despair,
+for only last week I won for myself a noble war-horse for which I paid
+not a penny, so perchance a suit of armor may also come my way."
+
+"And how won you the horse?"
+
+"It was given me by the monks of Waverley."
+
+"This is wonderful. Pardieu! I should have expected, from what I had
+seen, that they would have given you little save their malediction."
+
+"They had no use for the horse, and they gave it to me."
+
+"Then we have only to find some one who has no use for a suit of armor
+and will give it to you. Yet I trust that you will think better of it
+and let me, since that good lady proves that I am your kinsman, fit you
+for the wars."
+
+"I thank you, noble sir, and if I should turn to anyone it would indeed
+be to you; but there are other ways which I would try first. But I pray
+you, good Sir John, to tell me of some of your noble spear-runnings
+against the French, for the whole land rings with the tale of your deeds
+and I have heard that in one morning three champions have fallen before
+your lance. Was it not so?"
+
+"That it was indeed so these scars upon my body will prove; but these
+were the follies of my youth."
+
+"How can you call them follies? Are they not the means by which
+honorable advancement may be gained and one's lady exalted?"
+
+"It is right that you should think so, Nigel. At your age a man should
+have a hot head and a high heart. I also had both and fought for my
+lady's glove or for my vow or for the love of fighting. But as one grows
+older and commands men one has other things to think of. One thinks less
+of one's own honor and more of the safety of the army. It is not your
+own spear, your own sword, your own arm, which will turn the tide of
+fight; but a cool head may save a stricken field. He who knows when his
+horsemen should charge and when they should fight on foot, he who can
+mix his archers with his men-at-arms in such a fashion that each can
+support the other, he who can hold up his reserve and pour it into the
+battle when it may turn the tide, he who has a quick eye for boggy land
+and broken ground--that is the man who is of more worth to an army than
+Roland, Oliver and all the paladins."
+
+"Yet if his knights fail him, honored sir, all his head-work will not
+prevail."
+
+"True enough, Nigel; so may every Squire ride to the wars with his soul
+on fire, as yours is now. But I must linger no longer, for the King's
+service must be done. I will dress, and when I have bid farewell to the
+noble Dame Ermyntrude I will on to Farnham; but you will see me here
+again on the day that the King comes."
+
+So Chandos went his way that evening, walking his horse through the
+peaceful lanes and twanging his citole as he went, for he loved music
+and was famous for his merry songs. The cottagers came from their huts
+and laughed and clapped as the rich full voice swelled and sank to the
+cheery tinkling of the strings. There were few who saw him pass that
+would have guessed that the quaint one-eyed man with the yellow hair was
+the toughest fighter and craftiest man of war in Europe. Once only, as
+he entered Farnham, an old broken man-at-arms ran out in his rags and
+clutched at his horse as a dog gambols round his master. Chandos threw
+him a kind word and a gold coin as he passed on to the castle.
+
+In the meanwhile young Nigel and the Lady Ermyntrude, left alone with
+their difficulties, looked blankly in each other's faces.
+
+"The cellar is well nigh empty," said Nigel. "There are two firkins of
+small beer and a tun of canary. How can we set such drink before the
+King and his court?"
+
+"We must have some wine of Bordeaux. With that and the mottled cow's
+calf and the fowls and a goose, we can set forth a sufficient repast if
+he stays only for the one night. How many will be with him?"
+
+"A dozen, at the least."
+
+The old dame wrung her hands in despair. "Nay, take it not to heart,
+dear lady!" said Nigel. "We have but to say the word and the King would
+stop at Waverley, where he and his court would find all that they could
+wish."
+
+"Never!" cried the Lady Ermyntrude. "It would be shame and disgrace to
+us forever if the King were to pass our door when he has graciously said
+that he was fain to enter in. Nay, I will do it. Never did I think that
+I would be forced to this, but I know that he would wish it, and I will
+do it."
+
+She went to the old iron coffer, and taking a small key from her girdle
+she unlocked it. The rusty hinges, screaming shrilly as she threw back
+the lid, proclaimed how seldom it was that she had penetrated into the
+sacred recesses of her treasure-chest. At the top were some relics of
+old finery: a silken cloak spangled with golden stars, a coif of silver
+filigree, a roll of Venetian lace. Beneath were little packets tied in
+silk which the old lady handled with tender care: a man's hunting-glove,
+a child's shoe, a love-knot done in faded green ribbon, some letters in
+rude rough script, and a vernicle of Saint Thomas. Then from the very
+bottom of the box she drew three objects, swathed in silken cloth, which
+she uncovered and laid upon the table. The one was a bracelet of rough
+gold studded with uncut rubies, the second was a gold salver, and the
+third was a high goblet of the same metal.
+
+"You have heard me speak of these, Nigel, but never before have you seen
+them, for indeed I have not opened the hutch for fear that we might be
+tempted in our great need to turn them into money. I have kept them out
+of my sight and even out of my thoughts. But now it is the honor of the
+house which calls, and even these must go. This goblet was that which my
+husband, Sir Nele Loring, won after the intaking of Belgrade when he and
+his comrades held the lists from matins to vespers against the flower of
+the French chivalry. The salver was given him by the Earl of Pembroke in
+memory of his valor upon the field of Falkirk."
+
+"And the bracelet, dear lady?"
+
+"You will not laugh, Nigel?"
+
+"Nay, why should I laugh?"
+
+"The bracelet was the prize for the Queen of Beauty which was given to
+me before all the high-born ladies of England by Sir Nele Loring a month
+before our marriage--the Queen of Beauty, Nigel--I, old and twisted, as
+you see me. Five strong men went down before his lance ere he won that
+trinket for me. And now in my last years--"
+
+"Nay, dear and honored lady, we will not part with it."
+
+"Yes, Nigel, he would have it so. I can hear his whisper in my ear.
+Honor to him was everything--the rest nothing. Take it from me, Nigel,
+ere my heart weakens. To-morrow you will ride with it to Guildford; you
+will see Thorold the goldsmith; and you will raise enough money to pay
+for all that we shall need for the King's coming." She turned her face
+away to hide the quivering of her wrinkled features, and the crash of
+the iron lid covered the sob which burst from her overwrought soul.
+
+
+
+
+VII. HOW NIGEL WENT MARKETING TO GUILDFORD
+
+
+It was on a bright June morning that young Nigel, with youth and
+springtime to make his heart light, rode upon his errand from Tilford
+to Guildford town. Beneath him was his great yellow warhorse, caracoling
+and curveting as he went, as blithe and free of spirit as his master.
+In all England one would scarce have found upon that morning so
+high-mettled and so debonair a pair. The sandy road wound through groves
+of fir, where the breeze came soft and fragrant with resinous gums, or
+over heathery downs, which rolled away to north and to south, vast and
+untenanted, for on the uplands the soil was poor and water scarce.
+Over Crooksbury Common he passed, and then across the great Heath of
+Puttenham, following a sandy path which wound amid the bracken and
+the heather, for he meant to strike the Pilgrims' Way where it turned
+eastward from Farnham and from Seale. As he rode he continually felt his
+saddle-bag with his hand, for in it, securely strapped, he had placed
+the precious treasures of the Lady Ermyntrude. As he saw the grand tawny
+neck tossing before him, and felt the easy heave of the great horse and
+heard the muffled drumming of his hoofs, he could have sung and shouted
+with the joy of living.
+
+Behind him, upon the little brown pony which had been Nigel's former
+mount, rode Samkin Aylward the bowman, who had taken upon himself the
+duties of personal attendant and body-guard. His great shoulders and
+breadth of frame seemed dangerously top-heavy upon the tiny steed,
+but he ambled along, whistling a merry lilt and as lighthearted as his
+master. There was no countryman who had not a nod and no woman who had
+not a smile for the jovial bowman, who rode for the most part with his
+face over his shoulder, staring at the last petticoat which had passed
+him. Once only he met with a harsher greeting. It was from a tall,
+white-headed, red-faced man whom they met upon the moor.
+
+"Good-morrow, dear father!" cried Aylward. "How is it with you at
+Crooksbury? And how are the new black cow and the ewes from Alton and
+Mary the dairymaid and all your gear?"
+
+"It ill becomes you to ask, you ne'er-do-weel," said the old man. "You
+have angered the monks of Waverley, whose tenant I am, and they would
+drive me out of my farm. Yet there are three more years to run, and
+do what they may I will bide till then. But little did I think that I
+should lose my homestead through you, Samkin, and big as you are I would
+knock the dust out of that green jerkin with a good hazel switch if I
+had you at Crooksbury."
+
+"Then you shall do it to-morrow morning, good father, for I will come
+and see you then. But indeed I did not do more at Waverley than you
+would have done yourself. Look me in the eye, old hothead, and tell
+me if you would have stood by while the last Loring--look at him as he
+rides with his head in the air and his soul in the clouds--was shot down
+before your very eyes at the bidding of that fat monk! If you would,
+then I disown you as my father."
+
+"Nay, Samkin, if it was like that, then perhaps what you did was not so
+far amiss. But it is hard to lose the old farm when my heart is buried
+deep in the good brown soil."
+
+"Tut, man! there are three years to run, and what may not happen in
+three years? Before that time I shall have gone to the wars, and when I
+have opened a French strong box or two you can buy the good brown soil
+and snap your fingers at Abbot John and his bailiffs. Am I not as proper
+a man as Tom Withstaff of Churt? And yet he came back after six months
+with his pockets full of rose nobles and a French wench on either arm."
+
+"God preserve us from the wenches, Samkin! But indeed I think that if
+there is money to be gathered you are as likely to get your fist full as
+any man who goes to the war. But hasten, lad, hasten! Already your young
+master is over the brow."
+
+Thus admonished, the archer waved his gauntleted hand to his father, and
+digging his heels into the sides of his little pony soon drew up with
+the Squire. Nigel glanced over his shoulder and slackened speed until
+the pony's head was up to his saddle.
+
+"Have I not heard, archer," said he, "that an outlaw has been loose in
+these parts?"
+
+"It is true, fair sir. He was villain to Sir Peter Mandeville, but he
+broke his bonds and fled into the forests. Men call him the 'Wild Man of
+Puttenham.'"
+
+"How comes it that he has not been hunted down? If the man be a
+draw-latch and a robber it would be an honorable deed to clear the
+country of such an evil."
+
+"Twice the sergeants-at-arms from Guildford have come out against him,
+but the fox has many earths, and it would puzzle you to get him out of
+them."
+
+"By Saint Paul! were my errand not a pressing one I would be tempted to
+turn aside and seek him. Where lives he, then?"
+
+"There is a great morass beyond Puttenham, and across it there are caves
+in which he and his people lurk."
+
+"His people? He hath a band?"
+
+"There are several with him."
+
+"It sounds a most honorable enterprise," said Nigel. "When the King hath
+come and gone we will spare a day for the outlaws of Puttenham. I fear
+there is little chance for us to see them on this journey."
+
+"They prey upon the pilgrims who pass along the Winchester Road, and
+they are well loved by the folk in these parts, for they rob none of
+them and have an open hand for all who will help them."
+
+"It is right easy to have an open hand with the money that you have
+stolen," said Nigel; "but I fear that they will not try to rob two men
+with swords at their girdles like you and me, so we shall have no profit
+from them."
+
+They had passed over the wild moors and had come down now into the main
+road by which the pilgrims from the west of England made their way to
+the national shrine at Canterbury. It passed from Winchester, and up the
+beautiful valley of the Itchen until it reached Farnham, where it forked
+into two branches, one of which ran along the Hog's Back, while the
+second wound to the south and came out at Saint Catherine's Hill where
+stands the Pilgrim shrine, a gray old ruin now, but once so august, so
+crowded and so affluent. It was this second branch upon which Nigel and
+Aylward found themselves as they rode to Guildford.
+
+No one, as it chanced, was going the same way as themselves, but they
+met one large drove of pilgrims returning from their journey with
+pictures of Saint Thomas and snails' shells or little leaden ampullae
+in their hats and bundles of purchases over their shoulders. They were a
+grimy, ragged, travel-stained crew, the men walking, the women borne
+on asses. Man and beast, they limped along as if it would be a glad
+day when they saw their homes once more. These and a few beggars or
+minstrels, who crouched among the heather on either side of the track
+in the hope of receiving an occasional farthing from the passer-by, were
+the only folk they met until they had reached the village of Puttenham.
+Already there, was a hot sun and just breeze enough to send the dust
+flying down the road, so they were glad to clear their throats with a
+glass of beer at the ale-stake in the village, where the fair alewife
+gave Nigel a cold farewell because he had no attentions for her, and
+Aylward a box on the ear because he had too many.
+
+On the farther side of Puttenham the road runs through thick woods of
+oak and beech, with a tangled undergrowth of fern and bramble. Here they
+met a patrol of sergeants-at-arms, tall fellows, well-mounted, clad in
+studded-leather caps and tunics, with lances and swords. They walked
+their horses slowly on the shady side of the road, and stopped as the
+travelers came up, to ask if they had been molested on the way.
+
+"Have a care," they added, "for the 'Wild Man' and his wife are out.
+Only yesterday they slew a merchant from the west and took a hundred
+crowns."
+
+"His wife, you say?"
+
+"Yes, she is ever at his side, and has saved him many a time, for if he
+has the strength it is she who has the wit. I hope to see their heads
+together upon the green grass one of these mornings."
+
+The patrol passed downward toward Farnham, and so, as it proved, away
+from the robbers, who had doubtless watched them closely from the
+dense brushwood which skirted the road. Coming round a curve, Nigel and
+Aylward were aware of a tall and graceful woman who sat, wringing her
+hands and weeping bitterly, upon the bank by the side of the track. At
+such a sight of beauty in distress Nigel pricked Pommers with the spur
+and in three bounds was at the side of the unhappy lady.
+
+"What ails you, fair dame?" he asked. "Is there any small matter in
+which I may stand your friend, or is it possible that anyone hath so
+hard a heart as to do you an injury."
+
+She rose and turned upon him a face full of hope and entreaty. "Oh,
+save my poor, poor father!" she cried. "Have you perchance seen the
+way-wardens? They passed us, and I fear they are beyond reach."
+
+"Yes, they have ridden onward, but we may serve as well."
+
+"Then hasten, hasten, I pray you! Even now they may be doing him to
+death. They have dragged him into yonder grove and I have heard his
+voice growing ever weaker in the distance. Hasten, I implore you!"
+
+Nigel sprang from his horse and tossed the rein to Aylward.
+
+"Nay, let us go together. How many robbers were there, lady?"
+
+"Two stout fellows."
+
+"Then I come also."
+
+"Nay, it is not possible," said Nigel. "The wood is too thick for
+horses, and we cannot leave them in the road."
+
+"I will guard them," cried the lady.
+
+"Pommers is not so easily held. Do you bide here, Aylward, until you
+hear from me. Stir not, I command you!" So saying, Nigel, with the
+light, of adventure gleaming in his joyous eyes, drew his sword and
+plunged swiftly into the forest.
+
+Far and fast he ran, from glade to glade, breaking through the bushes,
+springing over the brambles, light as a young deer, peering this way and
+that, straining his ears for a sound, and catching only the cry of the
+wood-pigeons. Still on he went, with the constant thought of the weeping
+woman behind and of the captured man in front. It was not until he was
+footsore and out of breath that he stopped with his hand to his side,
+and considered that his own business had still to be done, and that it
+was time once more that he should seek the road to Guildford.
+
+Meantime Aylward had found his own rough means of consoling the woman in
+the road, who stood sobbing with her face against the side of Pommers'
+saddle.
+
+"Nay, weep not, my pretty one," said he. "It brings the tears to my own
+eyes to see them stream from thine."
+
+"Alas! good archer, he was the best of fathers, so gentle and so kind!
+Had you but known him, you must have loved him."
+
+"Tut, tut! he will suffer no scathe. Squire Nigel will bring him back to
+you anon."
+
+"No, no, I shall never see him more. Hold me, archer, or I fall!"
+
+Aylward pressed his ready arm round the supple waist. The fainting woman
+leaned with her hand upon his shoulder. Her pale face looked past
+him, and it was some new light in her eyes, a flash of expectancy, of
+triumph, of wicked joy, which gave him sudden warning of his danger.
+
+He shook her off and sprang to one side, but only just in time to avoid
+a crashing blow from a great club in the hands of a man even taller
+and stronger than himself. He had one quick vision of great white teeth
+clenched in grim ferocity, a wild flying beard and blazing wild-beast
+eyes. The next instant he had closed, ducking his head beneath another
+swing of that murderous cudgel.
+
+With his arms round the robber's burly body and his face buried in his
+bushy beard, Aylward gasped and strained and heaved. Back and forward
+in the dusty road the two men stamped and staggered, a grim
+wrestling-match, with life for the prize. Twice the great strength of
+the outlaw had Aylward nearly down, and twice with his greater youth
+and skill the archer restored his grip and his balance. Then at last
+his turn came. He slipped his leg behind the other's knee, and, giving
+a mighty wrench, tore him across it. With a hoarse shout the outlaw
+toppled backward and had hardly reached the ground before Aylward
+had his knee upon his chest and his short sword deep in his beard and
+pointed to his throat.
+
+"By these ten finger-bones!" he gasped, "one more struggle and it is
+your last!"
+
+The man lay still enough, for he was half-stunned by the crashing fall.
+Aylward looked round him, but the woman had disappeared. At the first
+blow struck she had vanished into the forest. He began to have fears for
+his master, thinking that he perhaps had been lured into some deathtrap;
+but his forebodings were soon at rest, for Nigel himself came hastening
+down the road, which he had struck some distance from the spot where he
+left it.
+
+"By Saint Paul!" he cried, "who is this man on whom you are perched, and
+where is the lady who has honored us so far as to crave our help? Alas,
+that I have been unable to find her father!"
+
+"As well for you, fair sir," said Aylward, "for I am of opinion that her
+father was the Devil. This woman is, as I believe, the wife of the 'Wild
+Man of Puttenham,' and this is the 'Wild Man' himself who set upon me
+and tried to brain me with his club."
+
+The outlaw, who had opened his eyes, looked with a scowl from his captor
+to the new-comer. "You are in luck, archer," said he, "for I have come
+to grips with many a man, but I cannot call to mind any who have had the
+better of me."
+
+"You have indeed the grip of a bear," said Aylward; "but it was a coward
+deed that your wife should hold me while you dashed out my brains with
+a stick. It is also a most villainous thing to lay a snare for wayfarers
+by asking for their pity and assistance, so that it was our own soft
+hearts which brought us into such danger. The next who hath real need of
+our help may suffer for your sins."
+
+"When the hand of the whole world is against you," said the outlaw in a
+surly voice, "you must fight as best you can."
+
+"You well deserve to be hanged, if only because you have brought this
+woman, who is fair and gentle-spoken, to such a life," said Nigel. "Let
+us tie him by the wrist to my stirrup leather, Aylward, and we will lead
+him into Guildford."
+
+The archer drew a spare bowstring from his case and had bound the
+prisoner as directed, when Nigel gave a sudden start and cry of alarm.
+
+"Holy Mary!" he cried. "Where is the saddle-bag?"
+
+It had been cut away by a sharp knife. Only the two ends of strap
+remained. Aylward and Nigel stared at each other in blank dismay. Then
+the young Squire shook his clenched hands and pulled at his yellow curls
+in his despair.
+
+"The Lady Ermyntrude's bracelet! My grandfather's cup!" he cried. "I
+would have died ere I lost them! What can I say to her? I dare not
+return until I have found them. Oh, Aylward, Aylward! how came you to
+let them be taken?"
+
+The honest archer had pushed back his steel cap and was scratching his
+tangled head. "Nay, I know nothing of it. You never said that there was
+aught of price in the bag, else had I kept a better eye upon it. Certes!
+it was not this fellow who took it, since I have never had my hands from
+him. It can only be the woman who fled with it while we fought."
+
+Nigel stamped about the road in his perplexity. "I would follow her to
+the world's end if I knew where I could find her, but to search these
+woods for her is to look for a mouse in a wheat-field. Good Saint
+George, thou who didst overcome the Dragon, I pray you by that most
+honorable and knightly achievement that you will be with me now! And
+you also, great Saint Julian, patron of all wayfarers in distress! Two
+candles shall burn before your shrine at Godalming, if you will but
+bring me back my saddle-bag. What would I not give to have it back?"
+
+"Will you give me my life?" asked the outlaw. "Promise that I go free,
+and you shall have it back, if it be indeed true that my wife has taken
+it."
+
+"Nay, I cannot do that," said Nigel. "My honor would surely be
+concerned, since my loss is a private one; but it would be to the public
+scathe that you should go free. By Saint Paul! it would be an ungentle
+deed if in order to save my own I let you loose upon the gear of a
+hundred others."
+
+"I will not ask you to let me loose," said the "Wild Man." "If you will
+promise that my life be spared I will restore your bag."
+
+"I cannot give such a promise, for it will lie with the Sheriff and
+reeves of Guildford."
+
+"Shall I have your word in my favor?"
+
+"That I could promise you, if you will give back the bag, though I know
+not how far my word may avail. But your words are vain, for you cannot
+think that we will be so fond as to let you go in the hope that you
+return?"
+
+"I would not ask it," said the "Wild Man," "for I can get your bag and
+yet never stir from the spot where I stand. Have I your promise upon
+your honor and all that you hold dear that you will ask for grace?"
+
+"You have."
+
+"And that my wife shall be unharmed?"
+
+"I promise it."
+
+The outlaw laid back his head and uttered a long shrill cry like the
+howl of a wolf. There was a silent pause, and then, clear and shrill,
+there rose the same cry no great distance away in the forest. Again the
+"Wild Man" called, and again his mate replied. A third time he summoned,
+as the deer bells to the doe in the greenwood. Then with a rustle of
+brushwood and snapping of twigs the woman was before them once more,
+tall, pale, graceful, wonderful. She glanced neither at Aylward nor
+Nigel, but ran to the side of her husband.
+
+"Dear and sweet lord," she cried, "I trust they have done you no hurt. I
+waited by the old ash, and my heart sank when you came not."
+
+"I have been taken at last, wife."
+
+"Oh, cursed, cursed day! Let him go, kind, gentle sirs; do not take him
+from me!"
+
+"They will speak for me at Guildford," said the "Wild Man." "They have
+sworn it. But hand them first the bag that you have taken."
+
+She drew it out from under her loose cloak. "Here it is, gentle sir.
+Indeed it went to my heart to take it, for you had mercy upon me in my
+trouble. But now I am, as you see, in real and very sore distress. Will
+you not have mercy now? Take ruth on us, fair sir! On my knees I beg it
+of you, most gentle and kindly Squire!"
+
+Nigel had clutched his bag, and right glad he was to feel that the
+treasures were all safe within it. "My proffer is given," said he. "I
+will say what I can; but the issue rests with others. I pray you to
+stand up, for indeed I cannot promise more."
+
+"Then I must be content," said she, rising, with a composed face. "I
+have prayed you to take ruth, and indeed I can do no more; but ere I go
+back to the forest I would rede you to be on your guard lest you lose
+your bag once more. Wot you how I took it, archer? Nay, it was simple
+enough, and may happen again, so I make it clear to you. I had this
+knife in my sleeve, and though it is small it is very sharp. I slipped
+it down like this. Then when I seemed to weep with my face against the
+saddle, I cut down like this--"
+
+In an instant she had shorn through the stirrup leather which bound her
+man, and he, diving under the belly of the horse, had slipped like a
+snake into the brushwood. In passing he had struck Pommers from beneath,
+and the great horse, enraged and insulted, was rearing high, with two
+men hanging to his bridle. When at last he had calmed there was no sign
+left of the "Wild Man" or of his wife. In vain did Aylward, an arrow on
+his string, run here and there among the great trees and peer down the
+shadowy glades. When he returned he and his master cast a shamefaced
+glance at each other.
+
+"I trust that we are better soldiers than jailers," said Aylward, as he
+climbed on his pony.
+
+But Nigel's frown relaxed into a smile. "At least we have gained back
+what we lost," said he. "Here I place it on the pommel of my saddle, and
+I shall not take my eyes from it until we are safe in Guildford town."
+
+So they jogged on together until passing Saint Catherine's shrine they
+crossed the winding Wey once more, and so found themselves in the steep
+high street with its heavy-caved gabled houses, its monkish hospitium
+upon the left, where good ale may still be quaffed, and its great
+square-keeped castle upon the right, no gray and grim skeleton of ruin,
+but very quick and alert, with blazoned banner flying free, and steel
+caps twinkling from the battlement. A row of booths extended from the
+castle gate to the high street, and two doors from the Church of the
+Trinity was that of Thorold the goldsmith, a rich burgess and Mayor of
+the town.
+
+He looked long and lovingly at the rich rubies and at the fine work
+upon the goblet. Then he stroked his flowing gray beard as he pondered
+whether he should offer fifty nobles or sixty, for he knew well that he
+could sell them again for two hundred. If he offered too much his profit
+would be reduced. If he offered too little the youth might go as far as
+London with them, for they were rare and of great worth. The young man
+was ill-clad, and his eyes were anxious. Perchance he was hard pressed
+and was ignorant of the value of what he bore. He would sound him.
+
+"These things are old and out of fashion, fair sir," said he. "Of the
+stones I can scarce say if they are of good quality or not, but they are
+dull and rough. Yet, if your price be low I may add them to my stock,
+though indeed this booth was made to sell and not to buy. What do you
+ask?"
+
+Nigel bent his brows in perplexity. Here was a game in which neither
+his bold heart nor his active limbs could help him. It was the new
+force mastering the old: the man of commerce conquering the man of
+war--wearing him down and weakening him through the centuries until he
+had him as his bond-servant and his thrall.
+
+"I know not what to ask, good sir," said Nigel. "It is not for me, nor
+for any man who bears my name, to chaffer and to haggle. You know
+the worth of these things, for it is your trade to do so. The Lady
+Ermyntrude lacks money, and we must have it against the King's coming,
+so give me that which is right and just, and we will say no more."
+
+The goldsmith smiled. The business was growing more simple and more
+profitable. He had intended to offer fifty, but surely it would be
+sinful waste to give more than twenty-five.
+
+"I shall scarce know what to do with them when I have them," said he.
+"Yet I should not grudge twenty nobles if it is a matter in which the
+King is concerned."
+
+Nigel's heart turned to lead. This sum would not buy one-half what
+was needful. It was clear that the Lady Ermyntrude had overvalued her
+treasures. Yet he could not return empty-handed, so if twenty nobles
+was the real worth, as this good old man assured him, then he must be
+thankful and take it.
+
+"I am concerned by what you say," said he. "You know more of these
+things than I can do. However, I will take--"
+
+"A hundred and fifty," whispered Aylward's voice in his ear.
+
+"A hundred and fifty," said Nigel, only too relieved to have found the
+humblest guide upon these unwonted paths.
+
+The goldsmith started. This youth was not the simple soldier that he
+had seemed. That frank face, those blue eyes, were traps for the unwary.
+Never had he been more taken aback in a bargain.
+
+"This is fond talk and can lead to nothing, fair sir," said he, turning
+away and fiddling with the keys of his strong boxes. "Yet I have no wish
+to be hard on you. Take my outside price, which is fifty nobles."
+
+"And a hundred," whispered Aylward.
+
+"And a hundred," said Nigel, blushing at his own greed.
+
+"Well, well, take a hundred!" cried the merchant. "Fleece me, skin me,
+leave me a loser, and take for your wares the full hundred!"
+
+"I should be shamed forever if I were to treat you so badly," said
+Nigel. "You have spoken me fair, and I would not grind you down.
+Therefore, I will gladly take one hundred--"
+
+"And fifty," whispered Aylward.
+
+"And fifty," said Nigel.
+
+"By Saint John of Beverley!" cried the merchant. "I came hither from the
+North Country, and they are said to be shrewd at a deal in those parts;
+but I had rather bargain with a synagogue full of Jews than with you,
+for all your gentle ways. Will you indeed take no less than a hundred
+and fifty? Alas! you pluck from me my profits of a month. It is a fell
+morning's work for me. I would I had never seen you!" With groans and
+lamentations he paid the gold pieces across the counter, and Nigel,
+hardly able to credit his own good fortune, gathered them into the
+leather saddle-bag.
+
+A moment later with flushed face he was in the street and pouring out
+his thanks to Aylward.
+
+"Alas, my fair lord! the man has robbed us now," said the archer. "We
+could have had another twenty had we stood fast."
+
+"How know you that, good Aylward?"
+
+"By his eyes, Squire Loring. I wot I have little store of reading where
+the parchment of a book or the pinching of a blazon is concerned, but I
+can read men's eyes, and I never doubted that he would give what he has
+given."
+
+The two travelers had dinner at the monk's hospitium, Nigel at the high
+table and Aylward among the commonalty. Then again they roamed the high
+street on business intent. Nigel bought taffeta for hangings, wine,
+preserves, fruit, damask table linen and many other articles of need. At
+last he halted before the armorer's shop at the castle-yard, staring at
+the fine suits of plate, the engraved pectorals, the plumed helmets, the
+cunningly jointed gorgets, as a child at a sweet-shop.
+
+"Well, Squire Loring," said Wat the armorer, looking sidewise from the
+furnace where he was tempering a sword blade, "what can I sell you this
+morning? I swear to you by Tubal Cain, the father of all workers in
+metal, that you might go from end to end of Cheapside and never see a
+better suit than that which hangs from yonder hook!"
+
+"And the price, armorer?"
+
+"To anyone else, two hundred and fifty rose nobles. To you two hundred."
+
+"And why cheaper to me, good fellow?"
+
+"Because I fitted your father also for the wars, and a finer suit never
+went out of my shop. I warrant that it turned many an edge before he
+laid it aside. We worked in mail in those days, and I had as soon have a
+well-made thick-meshed mail as any plates; but a young knight will be
+in the fashion like any dame of the court, and so it must be plate now,
+even though the price be trebled."
+
+"Your rede is that the mail is as good?"
+
+"I am well sure of it."
+
+"Hearken then, armorer! I cannot at this moment buy a suit of plate, and
+yet I sorely need steel harness on account of a small deed which it is
+in my mind to do. Now I have at my home at Tilford that very suit of
+mail of which you speak, with which my father first rode to the wars.
+Could you not so alter it that it should guard my limbs also?"
+
+The armorer looked at Nigel's small upright figure and burst out
+laughing. "You jest, Squire Loring! The suit was made for one who was
+far above the common stature of man."
+
+"Nay, I jest not. If it will but carry me through one spear-running it
+will have served its purpose."
+
+The armorer leaned back on his anvil and pondered while Nigel stared
+anxiously at his sooty face.
+
+"Right gladly would I lend you a suit of plate for this one venture,
+Squire Loring, but I know well that if you should be overthrown your
+harness becomes prize to the victor. I am a poor man with many children,
+and I dare not risk the loss of it. But as to what you say of the old
+suit of mail, is it indeed in good condition?"
+
+"Most excellent, save only at the neck, which is much frayed."
+
+"To shorten the limbs is easy. It is but to cut out a length of the mail
+and then loop up the links. But to shorten the body--nay, that is beyond
+the armorer's art."
+
+"It was my last hope. Nay, good armorer, if you have indeed served and
+loved my gallant father, then I beg you by his memory that you will help
+me now."
+
+The armorer threw down his heavy hammer with a crash upon the floor. "It
+is not only that I loved your father, Squire Loring, but it is that I
+have seen you, half armed as you were, ride against the best of them at
+the Castle tiltyard. Last Martinmas my heart bled for you when I saw how
+sorry was your harness, and yet you held your own against the stout Sir
+Oliver with his Milan suit: When go you to Tilford?"
+
+"Even now."
+
+"Heh, Jenkin, fetch out the cob!" cried the worthy Wat. "May my right
+hand lose its cunning if I do not send you into battle in your father's
+suit! To-morrow I must be back in my booth, but to-day I give to you
+without fee and for the sake of the good-will which I bear to your
+house. I will ride with you to Tilford, and before night you shall see
+what Wat can do."
+
+So it came about that there was a busy evening at the old Tilford
+Manor-house, where the Lady Ermyntrude planned and cut and hung the
+curtains for the hall, and stocked her cupboards with the good things
+which Nigel had brought from Guildford.
+
+Meanwhile the Squire and the armorer sat with their heads touching and
+the old suit of mail with its gorget of overlapping plates laid out
+across their knees. Again and again old Wat shrugged his shoulders, as
+one who has been asked to do more than can be demanded from mortal man.
+At last, at a suggestion from the Squire, he leaned back in his
+chair and laughed long and loudly in his bushy beard, while the Lady
+Ermyntrude glared her black displeasure at such plebeian merriment.
+Then taking his fine chisel and his hammer from his pouch of tools,
+the armorer, still chuckling at his own thoughts, began to drive a hole
+through the center of the steel tunic.
+
+
+
+
+VIII. HOW THE KING HAWKED ON CROOKSBURY HEATH
+
+
+The King and his attendants had shaken off the crowd who had followed
+them from Guildford along the Pilgrims' Way and now, the mounted archers
+having beaten off the more persistent of the spectators, they rode
+at their ease in a long, straggling, glittering train over the dark
+undulating plain of heather.
+
+In the van was the King himself, for his hawks were with him and he had
+some hope of sport. Edward at that time was a well-grown, vigorous man
+in the very prime of his years, a keen sportsman, an ardent gallant
+and a chivalrous soldier. He was a scholar too, speaking Latin, French,
+German, Spanish, and even a little English.
+
+So much had long been patent to the world, but only of recent years had
+he shown other and more formidable characteristics: a restless ambition
+which coveted his neighbor's throne, and a wise foresight in matters
+of commerce, which engaged him now in transplanting Flemish weavers and
+sowing the seeds of what for many years was the staple trade of England.
+Each of these varied qualities might have been read upon his face. The
+brow, shaded by a crimson cap of maintenance, was broad and lofty. The
+large brown eyes were ardent and bold. His chin was clean-shaven, and
+the close-cropped dark mustache did not conceal the strong mouth, firm,
+proud and kindly, but capable of setting tight in merciless ferocity.
+His complexion was tanned to copper by a life spent in field sports or
+in war, and he rode his magnificent black horse carelessly and easily,
+as one who has grown up in the saddle. His own color was black also, for
+his active; sinewy figure was set off by close-fitting velvet of that
+hue, broken only by a belt of gold, and by a golden border of open pods
+of the broom-plant.
+
+With his high and noble bearing, his simple yet rich attire and his
+splendid mount, he looked every inch a King.
+
+The picture of gallant man on gallant horse was completed by the noble
+Falcon of the Isles which fluttered along some twelve feet above his
+head, "waiting on," as it was termed, for any quarry which might arise.
+The second bird of the cast was borne upon the gauntleted wrist of Raoul
+the chief falconer in the rear.
+
+At the right side of the monarch and a little behind him rode a youth
+some twenty years of age, tall, slim and dark, with noble aquiline
+features and keen penetrating eyes which sparkled with vivacity and
+affection as he answered the remarks of the King. He was clad in deep
+crimson diapered with gold, and the trappings of his white palfrey were
+of a magnificence which proclaimed the rank of its rider. On his face,
+still free from mustache or beard, there sat a certain gravity and
+majesty of expression which showed that young as he was great affairs
+had been in his keeping and that his thoughts and interests were those
+of the statesman and the warrior. That great day when, little more
+than a school-boy, he had led the van of the victorious army which had
+crushed the power of France and Crecy, had left this stamp upon his
+features; but stern as they were they had not assumed that tinge of
+fierceness which in after years was to make "The Black Prince" a name
+of terror on the marches of France. Not yet had the first shadow of fell
+disease come to poison his nature ere it struck at his life, as he rode
+that spring day, light and debonair, upon the heath of Crooksbury.
+
+On the left of the King, and so near to him that great intimacy
+was implied, rode a man about his own age, with the broad face, the
+projecting jaw and the flattish nose which are often the outward
+indications of a pugnacious nature.
+
+His complexion was crimson, his large blue eyes somewhat prominent,
+and his whole appearance full-blooded and choleric. He was short, but
+massively built, and evidently possessed of immense strength. His voice,
+however, when he spoke was gentle and lisping, while his manner was
+quiet and courteous. Unlike the King or the Prince, he was clad in light
+armor and carried a sword by his side and a mace at his saddle-bow, for
+he was acting as Captain of the King's Guard, and a dozen other knights
+in steel followed in the escort. No hardier soldier could Edward have
+at his side, if, as was always possible in those lawless times, sudden
+danger was to threaten, for this was the famous knight of Hainault,
+now naturalized as an Englishman, Sir Walter Manny, who bore as high
+a reputation for chivalrous valor and for gallant temerity as Chandos
+himself.
+
+Behind the knights, who were forbidden to scatter and must always follow
+the King's person, there was a body of twenty or thirty hobblers or
+mounted bowmen, together with several squires, unarmed themselves but
+leading spare horses upon which the heavier part of their knights'
+equipment was carried. A straggling tail of falconers, harbingers,
+varlets, body-servants and huntsmen holding hounds in leash completed
+the long and many- train which rose and dipped on the low
+undulations of the moor.
+
+Many weighty things were on the mind of Edward the King. There was truce
+for the moment with France, but it was a truce broken by many small
+deeds of arms, raids, surprises and ambushes upon either side, and it
+was certain that it would soon dissolve again into open war. Money must
+be raised, and it was no light matter to raise it, now that the Commons
+had once already voted the tenth lamb and the tenth sheaf. Besides, the
+Black Death had ruined the country, the arable land was all turned
+to pasture, the laborer, laughing at statutes, would not work under
+fourpence a day, and all society was chaos. In addition, the Scotch
+were growling over the border, there was the perennial trouble in
+half-conquered Ireland, and his allies abroad in Flanders and in Brabant
+were clamoring for the arrears of their subsidies.
+
+All this was enough to make even a victorious monarch full of care; but
+now Edward had thrown it all to the winds and was as light-hearted as
+a boy upon a holiday. No thought had he for the dunning of Florentine
+bankers or the vexatious conditions of those busybodies at Westminster.
+He was out with his hawks, and his thoughts and his talk should be of
+nothing else. The varlets beat the heather and bushes as they passed,
+and whooped loudly as the birds flew out.
+
+"A magpie! A magpie!" cried the falconer.
+
+"Nay, nay, it is not worthy of your talons, my brown-eyed queen," said
+the King, looking up at the great bird which flapped from side to
+side above his head, waiting for the whistle which should give her the
+signal. "The tercels, falconer--a cast of tercels! Quick, man, quick!
+Ha! the rascal makes for wood! He puts in! Well flown, brave peregrine!
+He makes his point. Drive him out to thy comrade. Serve him, varlets!
+Beat the bushes! He breaks! He breaks! Nay, come away then! You will see
+Master Magpie no more."
+
+The bird had indeed, with the cunning of its race, flapped its way
+through brushwood and bushes to the thicker woods beyond, so that
+neither the hawk amid the cover nor its partner above nor the clamorous
+beaters could harm it. The King laughed at the mischance and rode on.
+Continually birds of various sorts were flushed, and each was pursued
+by the appropriate hawk, the snipe by the tercel, the partridge by the
+goshawk, even the lark by the little merlin. But the King soon tired of
+this petty sport and went slowly on his way, still with the magnificent
+silent attendant flapping above his head.
+
+"Is she not a noble bird, fair son?" he asked, glancing up as her shadow
+fell upon him.
+
+"She is indeed, sire. Surely no finer ever came from the isles of the
+north."
+
+"Perhaps not, and yet I have had a hawk from Barbary as good a footer
+and a swifter flyer. An Eastern bird in yarak has no peer."
+
+"I had one once from the Holy Land," said de Manny. "It was fierce and
+keen and swift as the Saracens themselves. They say of old Saladin that
+in his day his breed of birds, of hounds and of horses had no equal on
+earth."
+
+"I trust, dear father, that the day may come when we shall lay our hands
+on all three," said the Prince, looking with shining eyes upon the
+King. "Is the Holy Land to lie forever in the grasp of these unbelieving
+savages, or the Holy Temple to be defiled by their foul presence? Ah! my
+dear and most sweet lord, give to me a thousand lances with ten thousand
+bowmen like those I led at Crecy, and I swear to you by God's soul
+that within a year I will have done homage to you for the Kingdom of
+Jerusalem!"
+
+The King laughed as he turned to Walter Manny. "Boys will still be
+boys," said he.
+
+"The French do not count me such!" cried the young Prince, flushing with
+anger.
+
+"Nay, fair son, there is no one sets you at a higher rate than your
+father. But you have the nimble mind and quick fancy of youth, turning
+over from the thing that is half done to a further task beyond. How
+would we fare in Brittany and Normandy while my young paladin with his
+lances and his bowmen was besieging Ascalon or battering at Jerusalem?"
+
+"Heaven would help in Heaven's work."
+
+"From what I have heard of the past," said the King dryly, "I cannot see
+that Heaven has counted for much as an ally in these wars of the East. I
+speak with reverence, and yet it is but sooth to say that Richard of
+the Lion Heart or Louis of France might have found the smallest earthly
+principality of greater service to him than all the celestial hosts. How
+say you to that, my Lord Bishop?"
+
+A stout churchman who had ridden behind the King on a solid bay cob,
+well-suited to his weight and dignity, jogged up to the monarch's elbow.
+"How say you, sire? I was watching the goshawk on the partridge and
+heard you not."
+
+"Had I said that I would add two manors to the See of Chichester, I
+warrant that you would have heard me, my Lord Bishop."
+
+"Nay, fair lord, test the matter by saying so," cried the jovial Bishop.
+
+The King laughed aloud. "A fair counter, your reverence. By the rood!
+you broke your lance that passage. But the question I debated was this:
+How is it that since the Crusades have manifestly been fought in God's
+quarrel, we Christians have had so little comfort or support in fighting
+them. After all our efforts and the loss of more men than could be
+counted, we are at last driven from the country, and even the military
+orders which were formed only for that one purpose can scarce hold a
+footing in the islands of the Greek sea. There is not one seaport nor
+one fortress in Palestine over which the flag of the Cross still waves.
+Where then was our ally?"
+
+"Nay, sire, you open a great debate which extends far beyond this
+question of the Holy Land, though that may indeed be chosen as a
+fair example. It is the question of all sin, of all suffering, of
+all injustice--why it should pass without the rain of fire and the
+lightnings of Sinai. The wisdom of God is beyond our understanding."
+
+The King shrugged his shoulders. "This is an easy answer, my Lord
+Bishop. You are a prince of the Church. It would fare ill with an
+earthly prince who could give no better answer to the affairs which
+concerned his realm."
+
+"There are other considerations which might be urged, most gracious
+sire. It is true that the Crusades were a holy enterprise which might
+well expect the immediate blessing of God; but the Crusaders--is it
+certain that they deserved such a blessing? Have I not heard that their
+camp was the most dissolute ever seen?"
+
+"Camps are camps all the world over, and you cannot in a moment change
+a bowman into a saint. But the holy Louis was a crusader after your own
+heart. Yet his men perished at Mansurah and he himself at Tunis."
+
+"Bethink you also that this world is but the antechamber of the next,"
+said the prelate. "By suffering and tribulation the soul is cleansed,
+and the true victor may be he who by the patient endurance of misfortune
+merits the happiness to come."
+
+"If that be the true meaning of the Church's blessing, then I hope that
+it will be long before it rests upon our banners in France," said the
+King. "But methinks that when one is out with a brave horse and a good
+hawk one might find some other subject than theology. Back to the
+birds, Bishop, or Raoul the falconer will come to interrupt thee in thy
+cathedral."
+
+Straightway the conversation came back to the mystery of the woods and
+the mystery of the rivers, to the dark-eyed hawks and the yellow-eyed,
+to hawks of the lure and hawks of the fist. The Bishop was as steeped
+in the lore of falconry as the King, and the others smiled as the two
+wrangled hard over disputed and technical questions: if an eyas trained
+in the mews can ever emulate the passage hawk taken wild, or how long
+the young hawks should be placed at hack, and how long weathered before
+they are fully reclaimed.
+
+Monarch and prelate were still deep in this learned discussion, the
+Bishop speaking with a freedom and assurance which he would never have
+dared to use in affairs of Church and State, for in all ages there is
+no such leveler as sport. Suddenly, however, the Prince, whose keen
+eyes had swept from time to time over the great blue heaven, uttered a
+peculiar call and reined up his palfrey, pointing at the same time into
+the air.
+
+"A heron!" he cried. "A heron on passage!"
+
+To gain the full sport of hawking a heron must not be put up from its
+feeding-ground, where it is heavy with its meal, and has no time to get
+its pace on before it is pounced upon by the more active hawk, but
+it must be aloft, traveling from point to point, probably from the
+fish-stream to the heronry. Thus to catch the bird on passage was the
+prelude of all good sport. The object to which the Prince had pointed
+was but a black dot in the southern sky, but his strained eyes had
+not deceived him, and both Bishop and King agreed that it was indeed a
+heron, which grew larger every instant as it flew in their direction.
+
+"Whistle him off, sire! Whistle off the gerfalcon!" cried the Bishop.
+
+"Nay, nay, he is overfar. She would fly at check."
+
+"Now, sire, now!" cried the Prince, as the great bird with the breeze
+behind him came sweeping down the sky.
+
+The King gave the shrill whistle, and the well-trained hawk raked out to
+the right and to the left to make sure which quarry she was to follow.
+Then, spying the heron, she shot up in a swift ascending curve to meet
+him.
+
+"Well flown, Margot! Good bird!" cried the King, clapping his hands
+to encourage the hawk, while the falconers broke into the shrill whoop
+peculiar to the sport.
+
+Going on her curve, the hawk would soon have crossed the path of the
+heron; but the latter, seeing the danger in his front and confident in
+his own great strength of wing and lightness of body, proceeded to mount
+higher in the air, flying in such small rings that to the spectators it
+almost seemed as if the bird was going perpendicularly upward.
+
+"He takes the air!" cried the King. "But strong as he flies, he cannot
+out fly Margot. Bishop, I lay you ten gold pieces to one that the heron
+is mine."
+
+"I cover your wager, sire," said the Bishop. "I may not take gold so
+won, and yet I warrant that there is an altar-cloth somewhere in need of
+repairs."
+
+"You have good store of altar-cloths, Bishop, if all the gold I have
+seen you win at tables goes to the mending of them," said the King. "Ah!
+by the rood, rascal, rascal! See how she flies at check!"
+
+The quick eyes of the Bishop had perceived a drift of rooks when on
+their evening flight to the rookery were passing along the very line
+which divided the hawk from the heron. A rook is a hard temptation for
+a hawk to resist. In an instant the inconstant bird had forgotten all
+about the great heron above her and was circling over the rooks, flying
+westward with them as she singled out the plumpest for her stoop.
+
+"There is yet time, sire! Shall I cast off her mate?" cried the
+falconer.
+
+"Or shall I show you, sire, how a peregrine may win where a gerfalcon
+fails?" said the Bishop. "Ten golden pieces to one upon my bird."
+
+"Done with you, Bishop!" cried the King, his brow dark with vexation.
+"By the rood! if you were as learned in the fathers as you are in hawks
+you would win to the throne of Saint Peter! Cast off your peregrine and
+make your boasting good."
+
+Smaller than the royal gerfalcon, the Bishop's bird was none the less
+a swift and beautiful creature. From her perch upon his wrist she had
+watched with fierce, keen eyes the birds in the heaven, mantling herself
+from time to time in her eagerness. Now when the button was undone
+and the leash uncast the peregrine dashed off with a whir of her
+sharp-pointed wings, whizzing round in a great ascending circle which
+mounted swiftly upward, growing ever smaller as she approached that
+lofty point where, a mere speck in the sky, the heron sought escape from
+its enemies. Still higher and higher the two birds mounted, while the
+horsemen, their faces upturned, strained their eyes in their efforts to
+follow them.
+
+"She rings! She still rings!" cried the Bishop. "She is above him! She
+has gained her pitch."
+
+"Nay, nay, she is far below," said the King.
+
+"By my soul, my Lord Bishop is right!" cried the Prince. "I believe she
+is above. See! See! She swoops!"
+
+"She binds! She binds!" cried a dozen voices as the two dots blended
+suddenly into one.
+
+There could be no doubt that they were falling rapidly. Already they
+grew larger to the eye. Presently the heron disengaged himself and
+flapped heavily away, the worse for that deadly embrace, while the
+peregrine, shaking her plumage, ringed once more so as to get high above
+the quarry and deal it a second and more fatal blow. The Bishop smiled,
+for nothing, as it seemed, could hinder his victory.
+
+"Thy gold pieces shall be well spent, sire," said he. "What is lost to
+the Church is gained by the loser."
+
+But a most unlooked-for chance deprived the Bishop's altar cloth of
+its costly mending. The King's gerfalcon having struck down a rook, and
+finding the sport but tame, bethought herself suddenly of that noble
+heron, which she still perceived fluttering over Crooksbury Heath. How
+could she have been so weak as to allow these silly, chattering rooks to
+entice her away from that lordly bird? Even now it was not too late to
+atone for her mistake. In a great spiral she shot upward until she was
+over the heron. But what was this? Every fiber of her, from her crest to
+her deck feathers, quivered with jealousy and rage at the sight of
+this creature, a mere peregrine, who had dared to come between a royal
+gerfalcon and her quarry. With one sweep of her great wings she shot up
+until she was above her rival. The next instant--
+
+"They crab! They crab!" cried the King, with a roar of laughter,
+following them with his eyes as they bustled down through the air. "Mend
+thy own altar-cloths, Bishop. Not a groat shall you have from me this
+journey. Pull them apart, falconer, lest they do each other an injury.
+And now, masters, let us on, for the sun sinks toward the west."
+
+The two hawks, which had come to the ground interlocked with clutching
+talons and ruffled plumes, were torn apart and brought back bleeding and
+panting to their perches, while the heron after its perilous adventure
+flapped its way heavily onward to settle safely in the heronry of
+Waverley. The cortege, who had scattered in the excitement of the chase,
+came together again, and the journey was once more resumed.
+
+A horseman who had been riding toward them across the moor now quickened
+his pace and closed swiftly upon them. As he came nearer, the King and
+the Prince cried out joyously and waved their hands in greeting.
+
+"It is good John Chandos!!" cried the King. "By the rood, John, I have
+missed your merry songs this week or more! Glad I am to see that you
+have your citole slung to your back. Whence come you then?"
+
+"I come from Tilford, sire, in the hope that I should meet your
+majesty."
+
+"It was well thought of. Come, ride here between the Prince and me, and
+we will believe that we are back in France with our war harness on our
+backs once more. What is your news, Master John?"
+
+Chandos' quaint face quivered with suppressed amusement and his one eye
+twinkled like a star. "Have you had sport, my liege?"
+
+"Poor sport, John. We flew two hawks on the same heron. They crabbed,
+and the bird got free. But why do you smile so?"
+
+"Because I hope to show you better sport ere you come to Tilford."
+
+"For the hawk? For the hound?"
+
+"A nobler sport than either."
+
+"Is this a riddle, John? What mean you?"
+
+"Nay, to tell all would be to spoil all. I say again that there is rare
+sport betwixt here and Tilford, and I beg you, dear lord, to mend your
+pace that we make the most of the daylight."
+
+Thus adjured, the King set spurs to his horse, and the whole cavalcade
+cantered over the heath in the direction which Chandos showed. Presently
+as they came over a <DW72> they saw beneath them a winding river with
+an old high-backed bridge across it. On the farther side was a village
+green with a fringe of cottages and one dark manor house upon the side
+of the hill.
+
+"This is Tilford," said Chandos. "Yonder is the house of the Lorings."
+
+The King's expectations had been aroused and his face showed his
+disappointment.
+
+"Is this the sport that you have promised us, Sir John? How can you make
+good your words?"
+
+"I will make them good, my liege."
+
+"Where then is the sport?"
+
+On the high crown of the bridge a rider in armor was seated, lance in
+hand, upon a great yellow steed. Chandos touched the King's arm and
+pointed. "That is the sport," said he.
+
+
+
+
+IX. HOW NIGEL HELD THE BRIDGE AT TILFORD
+
+
+The King looked at the motionless figure, at the little crowd of hushed
+expectant rustics beyond the bridge, and finally at the face of Chandos,
+which shone with amusement.
+
+"What is this, John?" he asked.
+
+"You remember Sir Eustace Loring, sire?"
+
+"Indeed I could never forget him nor the manner of his death."
+
+"He was a knight errant in his day."
+
+"That indeed he was--none better have I known."
+
+"So is his son Nigel, as fierce a young war-hawk as ever yearned to use
+beak and claws; but held fast in the mews up to now. This is his trial
+fight. There he stands at the bridge-head, as was the wont in our
+fathers' time, ready to measure himself against all comers."
+
+Of all Englishmen there was no greater knight errant than the King
+himself, and none so steeped in every quaint usage of chivalry; so that
+the situation was after his own heart.
+
+"He is not yet a knight?"
+
+"No, sire, only a Squire."
+
+"Then he must bear himself bravely this day if he is to make good what
+he has done. Is it fitting that a young untried Squire should venture to
+couch his lance against the best in England?"
+
+"He hath given me his cartel and challenge," said Chandos, drawing a
+paper from his tunic. "Have I your permission, sire, to issue it?"
+
+"Surely, John, we have no cavalier more versed in the laws of chivalry
+than yourself. You know this young man, and you are aware how far he is
+worthy of the high honor which he asks. Let us hear his defiance."
+
+The knights and squires of the escort, most of whom were veterans of
+the French war, had been gazing with interest and some surprise at the
+steel-clad figure in front of them. Now at a call from Sir Walter Manny
+they assembled round the spot where the King and Chandos had halted.
+Chandos cleared his throat and read from his paper--
+
+"'A tous seigneurs, chevaliers et escuyers,' so it is headed, gentlemen.
+It is a message from the good Squire Nigel Loring of Tilford, son of Sir
+Eustace Loring, of honorable memory. Squire Loring awaits you in arms,
+gentlemen, yonder upon the crown of the old bridge. Thus says he: 'For
+the great desire that I, a most humble and unworthy Squire, entertain,
+that I may come to the knowledge of the noble gentlemen who ride with my
+royal master, I now wait on the Bridge of the Way in the hope that some
+of them may condescend to do some small deed of arms upon me, or that I
+may deliver them from any vow which they may have taken. This I say out
+of no esteem for myself, but solely that I may witness the noble bearing
+of these famous cavaliers and admire their skill in the handling of
+arms. Therefore, with the help of Saint George, I will hold the bridge
+with sharpened lances against any or all who may deign to present
+themselves while daylight lasts."
+
+"What say you to this, gentlemen?" asked the King, looking round with
+laughing eyes.
+
+"Truly it is issued in very good form," said the Prince. "Neither
+Claricieux nor Red Dragon nor any herald that ever wore tabard could
+better it. Did he draw it of his own hand?"
+
+"He hath a grim old grandmother who is one of the ancient breed," said
+Chandos. "I doubt not that the Dame Ermyntrude hath drawn a challenge or
+two before now. But hark ye, sire, I would have a word in your ear--and
+yours too, most noble Prince."
+
+Leading them aside, Chandos whispered some explanations, which ended by
+them all three bursting into a shout of laughter.
+
+"By the rood! no honorable gentleman should be reduced to such straits,"
+said the King. "It behooves me to look to it. But how now, gentlemen?
+This worthy cavalier still waits his answer."
+
+The soldiers had all been buzzing together; but now Walter Manny turned
+to the King with the result of their counsel.
+
+"If it please your majesty," said he, "we are of opinion that this
+Squire hath exceeded all bounds in desiring to break a spear with a
+belted knight ere he has given his proofs. We do him sufficient honor
+if a Squire ride against him, and with your consent I have chosen my
+own body-squire, John Widdicombe, to clear the path for us across the
+bridge."
+
+"What you say, Walter, is right and fair," said the King. "Master
+Chandos, you will tell our champion yonder what hath been arranged. You
+will advise him also that it is our royal will that this contest be not
+fought upon the bridge, since it is very clear that it must end in one
+or both going over into the river, but that he advance to the end of the
+bridge and fight upon the plain. You will tell him also that a blunted
+lance is sufficient for such an encounter, but that a hand-stroke or
+two with sword or mace may well be exchanged, if both riders should keep
+their saddles. A blast upon Raoul's horn shall be the signal to close."
+
+Such ventures as these where an aspirant for fame would wait for days at
+a cross-road, a ford, or a bridge, until some worthy antagonist should
+ride that way, were very common in the old days of adventurous knight
+erranty, and were still familiar to the minds of all men because the
+stories of the romancers and the songs of the trouveres were full of
+such incidents. Their actual occurrence however had become rare. There
+was the more curiosity, not unmixed with amusement, in the thoughts
+of the courtiers as they watched Chandos ride down to the bridge and
+commented upon the somewhat singular figure of the challenger. His build
+was strange, and so also was his figure, for the limbs were short for so
+tall a man. His head also was sunk forward as if he were lost in thought
+or overcome with deep dejection.
+
+"This is surely the Cavalier of the Heavy Heart," said Manny. "What
+trouble has he, that he should hang his head?"
+
+"Perchance he hath a weak neck," said the King.
+
+"At least he hath no weak voice," the Prince remarked, as Nigel's answer
+to Chandos came to their ears. "By our lady, he booms like a bittern."
+
+As Chandos rode back again to the King, Nigel exchanged the old ash
+spear which had been his father's for one of the blunted tournament
+lances which he took from the hands of a stout archer in attendance. He
+then rode down to the end of the bridge where a hundred-yard stretch
+of greensward lay in front of him. At the same moment the Squire of
+Sir Walter Manny, who had been hastily armed by his comrades, spurred
+forward and took up his position.
+
+The King raised his hand; there was a clang from the falconer's horn,
+and the two riders, with a thrust of their heels and a shake of their
+bridles, dashed furiously at each other. In the center the green strip
+of marshy meadowland, with the water squirting from the galloping hoofs,
+and the two crouching men, gleaming bright in the evening sun, on one
+side the half circle of motionless horsemen, some in steel, some in
+velvet, silent and attentive, dogs, hawks, and horses all turned to
+stone; on the other the old peaked bridge, the blue lazy river, the
+group of openmouthed rustics, and the dark old manor-house with one grim
+face which peered from the upper window.
+
+A good man was John Widdicombe, but he had met a better that day. Before
+that yellow whirlwind of a horse and that rider who was welded and
+riveted to his saddle his knees could not hold their grip. Nigel and
+Pommers were one flying missile, with all their weight and strength
+and energy centered on the steady end of the lance. Had Widdicombe been
+struck by a thunderbolt he could not have flown faster or farther from
+his saddle. Two full somersaults did he make, his plates clanging like
+cymbals, ere he lay prone upon his back.
+
+For a moment the King looked grave at that prodigious fall. Then smiling
+once more as Widdicombe staggered to his feet, he clapped his hands
+loudly in applause. "A fair course and fairly run!" he cried. "The five
+scarlet roses bear themselves in peace even as I have seen them in war.
+How now, my good Walter? Have you another Squire or will you clear a
+path for us yourself?"
+
+Manny's choleric face had turned darker as he observed the mischance of
+his representative. He beckoned now to a tall knight, whose gaunt and
+savage face looked out from his open bassinet as an eagle might from a
+cage of steel.
+
+"Sir Hubert," said he, "I bear in mind the day when you overbore the
+Frenchman at Caen. Will you not be our champion now?"
+
+"When I fought the Frenchman, Walter, it was with naked weapons," said
+the knight sternly. "I am a soldier and I love a soldier's work, but I
+care not for these tiltyard tricks which were invented for nothing but
+to tickle the fancies of foolish women."
+
+"Oh, most ungallant speech!" cried the King. "Had my good-consort heard
+you she would have arraigned you to appear at a Court of Love with
+a jury of virgins to answer for your sins. But I pray you to take a
+tilting spear, good Sir Hubert!"
+
+"I had as soon take a peacock's feather, my fair lord; but I will do it,
+if you ask me. Here, page, hand me one of those sticks, and let me see
+what I can do."
+
+But Sir Hubert de Burgh was not destined to test either his skill or his
+luck. The great bay horse which he rode was as unused to this warlike
+play as was its master, and had none of its master's stoutness of heart;
+so that when it saw the leveled lance, the gleaming figure and the
+frenzied yellow horse rushing down upon it, it swerved, turned and
+galloped furiously down the river-bank. Amid roars of laughter from the
+rustics on the one side and from the courtiers on the other, Sir Hubert
+was seen, tugging vainly at his bridle, and bounding onward, clearing
+gorse-bushes and heather-clumps, until he was but a shimmering,
+quivering gleam upon the dark hillside. Nigel, who had pulled Pommers
+on to his very haunches at the instant that his opponent turned, saluted
+with his lance and trotted back to the bridge-head, where he awaited his
+next assailant.
+
+"The ladies would say that a judgment hath fallen upon our good Sir
+Hubert for his impious words," said the King.
+
+"Let us hope that his charger may be broken in ere they venture to ride
+out between two armies," remarked the Prince. "They might mistake the
+hardness of his horse's mouth for a softness of the rider's heart. See
+where he rides, still clearing every bush upon his path."
+
+"By the rood!" said the King, "if the bold Hubert has not increased his
+repute as a jouster he has gained great honor as a horseman. But the
+bridge is still closed, Walter. How say you now? Is this young Squire
+never to be unhorsed, or is your King himself to lay lance in rest ere
+his way can be cleared? By the head of Saint Thomas! I am in the very
+mood to run a course with this gentle youth."
+
+"Nay, nay, sire, too much honor hath already been done him!" said Manny,
+looking angrily at the motionless horseman. "That this untried boy
+should be able to say that in one evening he has unhorsed my Squire, and
+seen the back of one of the bravest knights in England is surely enough
+to turn his foolish head. Fetch me a spear, Robert! I will see what I
+can make of him."
+
+The famous knight took the spear when it was brought to him as a
+master-workman takes a tool. He balanced it, shook it once or twice in
+the air, ran his eyes down it for a flaw in the wood, and then finally
+having made sure of its poise and weight laid it carefully in rest under
+his arm. Then gathering up his bridle so as to have his horse under
+perfect command, and covering himself with the shield, which was slung
+round his neck, he rode out to do battle.
+
+Now, Nigel, young and inexperienced, all Nature's aid will not help you
+against the mixed craft and strength of such a warrior. The day will
+come when neither Manny nor even Chandos could sweep you from your
+saddle; but now, even had you some less cumbrous armor, your chance were
+small. Your downfall is near; but as you see the famous black chevrons
+on a golden ground your gallant heart which never knew fear is only
+filled with joy and amazement at the honor done you. Your downfall is
+near, and yet in your wildest dreams you would never guess how strange
+your downfall is to be.
+
+Again with a dull thunder of hoofs the horses gallop over the soft
+water-meadow. Again with a clash of metal the two riders meet. It is
+Nigel now, taken clean in the face of his helmet with the blunted spear,
+who flies backward off his horse and falls clanging on the grass.
+
+But good heavens! what is this? Manny has thrown up his hands in horror
+and the lance has dropped from his nerveless fingers. From all sides,
+with cries of dismay, with oaths and shouts and ejaculations to the
+saints, the horsemen ride wildly in. Was ever so dreadful, so sudden, so
+complete, an end to a gentle passage at arms? Surely their eyes must be
+at fault? Some wizard's trick has been played upon them to deceive their
+senses. But no, it was only too clear. There on the greensward lay the
+trunk of the stricken cavalier, and there, a good dozen yards beyond,
+lay his helmeted head.
+
+"By the Virgin!" cried Manny wildly, as he jumped from his horse, "I
+would give my last gold piece that the work of this evening should be
+undone! How came it? What does it mean? Hither, my Lord Bishop, for
+surely it smacks of witchcraft and the Devil."
+
+With a white face the Bishop had sprung down beside the prostrate body,
+pushing through the knot of horrified knights and squires.
+
+"I fear that the last offices of the Holy Church come too late," said he
+in a quivering voice. "Most unfortunate young man! How sudden an end!
+In medio vitae, as the Holy Book has it--one moment in the pride of his
+youth, the next his head torn from his body. Now God and his saints have
+mercy upon me and guard me from evil!"
+
+The last prayer was shot out of the Bishop with an energy and
+earnestness unusual in his orisons. It was caused by the sudden outcry
+of one of the Squires who, having lifted the helmet from the ground,
+cast it down again with a scream of horror.
+
+"It is empty!" he cried. "It weighs as light as a feather."
+
+"'Fore God, it is true!" cried Manny, laying his hand on it. "There
+is no one in it. With what have I fought, father Bishop? Is it of this
+world or of the next?"
+
+The Bishop had clambered on his horse the better to consider the point.
+"If the foul fiend is abroad," said he, "my place is over yonder by
+the King's side. Certes that sulphur- horse hath a very devilish
+look. I could have sworn that I saw both smoke and flame from its
+nostrils. The beast is fit to bear a suit of armor which rides and
+fights and yet hath no man within it."
+
+"Nay, not too fast, father Bishop," said one of the knights. "It may
+be all that you say and yet come from a human workshop. When I made a
+campaign in South Germany I have seen at Nuremberg a cunning figure,
+devised by an armorer, which could both ride and wield a sword. If this
+be such a one--"
+
+"I thank you all for your very gentle courtesy," said a booming voice
+from the figure upon the ground.
+
+At the words even the valiant Manny sprang into his saddle. Some rode
+madly away from the horrid trunk. A few of the boldest lingered.
+
+"Most of all," said the voice, "would I thank the most noble knight,
+Sir Walter Manny, that he should deign to lay aside his greatness and
+condescend to do a deed of arms upon so humble a Squire."
+
+"'Fore God!" said Manny, "if this be the Devil, then the Devil hath a
+very courtly tongue. I will have him out of his armor, if he blast me!"
+
+So saying he sprang once more from his horse and plunging his hand down
+the slit in the collapsed gorget he closed it tightly upon a fistful of
+Nigel's yellow curls. The groan that came forth was enough to convince
+him that it was indeed a man who lurked within. At the same time his
+eyes fell upon the hole in the mail corselet which had served the Squire
+as a visor, and he burst into deep-chested mirth. The King, the Prince
+and Chandos, who had watched the scene from a distance, too much amused
+by it to explain or interfere, rode up weary with laughter, now that all
+was discovered.
+
+"Let him out!" said the King, with his hand to his side. "I pray you to
+unlace him and let him out! I have shared in many a spear-running, but
+never have I been nearer falling from my horse than as I watched this
+one. I feared the fall had struck him senseless, since he lay so still."
+
+Nigel had indeed lain with all the breath shaken from his body, and
+as he was unaware that his helmet had been carried off, he had not
+understood either the alarm or the amusement that he had caused. Now
+freed from the great hauberk in which he had been shut like a pea in a
+pod, he stood blinking in the light, blushing deeply with shame that
+the shifts to which his poverty had reduced him should be exposed to all
+these laughing courtiers. It was the King who brought him comfort.
+
+"You have shown that you can use your father's weapons," said he, "and
+you have proved also that you are the worthy bearer of his name and his
+arms, for you have within you that spirit for which he was famous. But I
+wot that neither he nor you would suffer a train of hungry men to starve
+before your door; so lead on, I pray you, and if the meat be as good as
+this grace before it, then it will be a feast indeed."
+
+
+
+
+X. HOW THE KING GREETED HIS SENESCHAL OF CALAIS
+
+
+It would have fared ill with the good name of Tilford Manor house and
+with the housekeeping of the aged Dame Ermyntrude had the King's
+whole retinue, with his outer and inner marshal, his justiciar, his
+chamberlain and his guard, all gathered under the one roof. But by
+the foresight and the gentle management of Chandos this calamity was
+avoided, so that some were quartered at the great Abbey and others
+passed on to enjoy the hospitality of Sir Roger FitzAlan at Farnham
+Castle. Only the King himself, the Prince, Manny, Chandos, Sir Hubert de
+Burgh, the Bishop and two or three more remained behind as the guests of
+the Lorings.
+
+But small as was the party and humble the surroundings, the King in no
+way relaxed that love of ceremony, of elaborate form and of brilliant
+coloring which was one of his characteristics. The sumpter-mules
+were unpacked, squires ran hither and thither, baths smoked in the
+bed-chambers, silks and satins were unfolded, gold chains gleamed
+and clinked, so that when at last, to the long blast of two court
+trumpeters, the company took their seats at the board, it was the
+brightest, fairest scene which those old black rafters had ever spanned.
+
+The great influx of foreign knights who had come in their splendor from
+all parts of Christendom to take part in the opening of the Round Tower
+of Windsor six years before, and to try their luck and their skill
+at the tournament connected with it, had deeply modified the English
+fashions of dress. The old tunic, over-tunic and cyclas were too sad and
+simple for the new fashions, so now strange and brilliant cote-hardies,
+pourpoints, courtepies, paltocks, hanselines and many other wondrous
+garments, parti- or diapered, with looped, embroidered or
+escalloped edges, flamed and glittered round the King. He himself, in
+black velvet and gold, formed a dark rich center to the finery around
+him. On his right sat the Prince, on his left the Bishop, while Dame
+Ermyntrude marshaled the forces of the household outside, alert and
+watchful, pouring in her dishes and her flagons at the right moment,
+rallying her tired servants, encouraging the van, hurrying the rear,
+hastening up her reserves, the tapping of her oak stick heard everywhere
+the pressure was the greatest.
+
+Behind the King, clad in his best, but looking drab and sorry amid the
+brilliant costumes round him, Nigel himself, regardless of an aching
+body and a twisted knee, waited upon his royal guests, who threw many
+a merry jest at him over their shoulders as they still chuckled at the
+adventure of the bridge.
+
+"By the rood!" said King Edward, leaning back, with a chicken bone held
+daintily between the courtesy fingers of his left hand, "the play is
+too good for this country stage. You must to Windsor with me, Nigel, and
+bring with you this great suit of harness in which you lurk. There you
+shall hold the lists with your eyes in your midriff, and unless some
+one cleave you to the waist I see not how any harm can befall you. Never
+have I seen so small a nut in so great a shell."
+
+The Prince, looking back with laughing eyes, saw by Nigel's flushed and
+embarrassed face that his poverty hung heavily upon him. "Nay," said he
+kindly, "such a workman is surely worthy of better tools."
+
+"And it is for his master to see that he has them," added the King. "The
+court armorer will look to it that the next time your helmet is carried
+away, Nigel, your head shall be inside it."
+
+Nigel, red to the roots of his flaxen hair, stammered out some words of
+thanks.
+
+John Chandos, however, had a fresh suggestion, and he cocked a roguish
+eye as he made it: "Surely, my liege, your bounty is little needed in
+this case. It is the ancient law of arms that if two cavaliers start
+to joust, and one either by maladdress or misadventure fail to meet
+the shock, then his arms become the property of him who still holds
+the lists. This being so, methinks, Sir Hubert de Burgh, that the fine
+hauberk of Milan and the helmet of Bordeaux steel in which you rode to
+Tilford should remain with our young host as some small remembrance of
+your visit."
+
+The suggestion raised a general chorus of approval and laughter, in
+which all joined, save only Sir Hubert himself, who, flushed with anger,
+fixed his baleful eyes upon Chandos' mischievous and smiling face.
+
+"I said that I did not play that foolish game, and I know nothing of its
+laws," said he; "but you know well, John, that if you would have a bout
+with sharpened spear or sword, where two ride to the ground, and only
+one away from it, you have not far to go to find it."
+
+"Nay, nay, would you ride to the ground? Surely you had best walk,
+Hubert," said Chandos. "On your feet I know well that I should not see
+your back as we have seen it to-day. Say what you will, your horse has
+played you false, and I claim your suit of harness for Nigel Loring."
+
+"Your tongue is overlong, John, and I am weary of its endless clack!"
+said Sir Hubert, his yellow mustache bristling from a scarlet face. "If
+you claim my harness, do you yourself come and take it. If there is a
+moon in the sky you may try this very night when the board is cleared."
+
+"Nay, fair sirs," cried the King, smiling from one to the other, "this
+matter must be followed no further. Do you fill a bumper of Gascony,
+John, and you also, Hubert. Now pledge each other, I pray you, as good
+and loyal comrades who would scorn to fight save in your King's quarrel.
+We can spare neither of you while there is so much work for brave hearts
+over the sea. As to this matter of the harness, John Chandos speaks
+truly where it concerns a joust in the lists, but we hold that such a
+law is scarce binding in this, which was but a wayside passage and a
+gentle trial of arms. On the other hand, in the case of your Squire,
+Master Manny, there can be no doubt that his suit is forfeit."
+
+"It is a grievous hearing for him, my liege," said Walter Manny; "for he
+is a poor man and hath been at sore pains to fit himself for the wars.
+Yet what you say shall be done, fair sire. So, if you will come to me in
+the morning, Squire Loring, John Widdicombe's suit will be handed over
+to you."
+
+"Then with the King's leave, I will hand it back to him," said Nigel,
+troubled and stammering; "for indeed I had rather never ride to the wars
+than take from a brave man his only suit of plate."
+
+"There spoke your father's spirit!" cried the King. "By the rood! Nigel,
+I like you full well. Let the matter bide in my hands. But I marvel much
+that Sir Aymery the Lombard hath not come to us yet from Windsor."
+
+From the moment of his arrival at Tilford, again and again King Edward
+had asked most eagerly whether Sir Aymery had come, and whether there
+was any news of him, so that the courtiers glanced at each other in
+wonder. For Aymery was known to all of them as a famous mercenary of
+Italy, lately appointed Governor of Calais, and this sudden and urgent
+summons from the King might well mean some renewal of the war with
+France, which was the dearest wish of every soldier. Twice the King had
+stopped his meal and sat with sidelong head; his wine-cup in his hand,
+listening attentively when some sound like the clatter of hoofs was
+heard from outside; but the third time there could be no mistake. The
+tramp and jingle of the horses broke loud upon the ear, and ended in
+hoarse voices calling out of the darkness, which were answered by the
+archers posted as sentries without the door.
+
+"Some traveler has indeed arrived, my liege," said Nigel. "What is your
+royal will?"
+
+"It can be but Aymery," the King answered, "for it was only to him that
+I left the message that he should follow me hither. Bid him come in, I
+pray you, and make him very welcome at your board."
+
+Nigel cast open the door, plucking a torch from its bracket as he did
+so. Half a dozen men-at-arms sat on their horses outside, but one had
+dismounted, a short, squat, swarthy man with a rat face and quick,
+restless brown eyes which peered eagerly past Nigel into the red glare
+of the well-lit hall.
+
+"I am Sir Aymery of Pavia," he whispered. "For God's sake, tell me! is
+the King within?"
+
+"He is at table, fair sir, and he bids you to enter."
+
+"One moment, young man, one moment, and a secret word in your ear. Wot
+you why it is that the King has sent for me?"
+
+Nigel read terror in the dark cunning eyes which glanced in sidelong
+fashion into his. "Nay, I know not."
+
+"I would I knew--I would I was sure ere I sought his presence."
+
+"You have but to cross the threshold, fair sir, and doubtless you will
+learn from the King's own lips."
+
+Sir Aymery seemed to gather himself as one who braces for a spring into
+ice-cold water. Then he crossed with a quick stride from the darkness
+into the light. The King stood up and held out his hand with a smile
+upon his long handsome face, and yet it seemed to the Italian that it
+was the lips which smiled but not the eyes.
+
+"Welcome!" cried Edward. "Welcome to our worthy and faithful Seneschal
+of Calais! Come, sit here before me at the board, for I have sent for
+you that I may hear your news from over the sea, and thank you for
+the care that you have taken of that which is as dear to me as wife or
+child. Set a place for Sir Aymery there, and give him food and drink,
+for he has ridden fast and far in our service to-day."
+
+Throughout the long feast which the skill of the Lady Ermyntrude had
+arranged, Edward chatted lightly with the Italian as well as with
+the barons near him. Finally, when the last dish was removed and the
+gravy-soaked rounds of coarse bread which served as plates had been cast
+to the dogs, the wine-flagons were passed round; and old Weathercote
+the minstrel entered timidly with his harp in the hope that he might be
+allowed to play before the King's majesty. But Edward had other sport
+afoot.
+
+"I pray you, Nigel, to send out the servants, so that we may be alone.
+I would have two men-at-arms at every door lest we be disturbed in our
+debate, for it is a matter of privacy. And now, Sir Aymery, these noble
+lords as well as I, your master, would fain hear from your own lips how
+all goes forward in France."
+
+The Italian's face was calm; but he looked restlessly from one to
+another along the line of his listeners.
+
+"So far as I know, my liege, all is quiet on the French marches," said
+he.
+
+"You have not heard then that they have mustered or gathered to a head
+with the intention of breaking the truce and making some attempt upon
+our dominions?"
+
+"Nay, sire, I have heard nothing of it."
+
+"You set my mind much at ease, Aymery," said the King; "for if nothing
+has come to your ears, then surely it cannot be. It was said that the
+wild Knight de Chargny had come down to St. Omer with his eyes upon my
+precious jewel and his mailed hands ready to grasp it."
+
+"Nay, sire, let him come. He will find the jewel safe in its strong box,
+with a goodly guard over it."
+
+"You are the guard over my jewel, Aymery."
+
+"Yes, sire, I am the guard."
+
+"And you are a faithful guard and one whom I can trust, are you not? You
+would not barter away that which is so dear to me when I have chosen you
+out of all my army to hold it for me?"
+
+"Nay, sire, what reasons can there be for such questions? They touch my
+honor very nearly. You know that I would part with Calais only when I
+parted with my soul."
+
+"Then you know nothing of de Chargny's attempt?"
+
+"Nothing sire."
+
+"Liar and villain!" yelled the King, springing to his feet and dashing
+his fist upon the table until the glasses rattled again. "Seize him,
+archers! Seize him this instant! Stand close by either elbow, lest he do
+himself a mischief! Now do you dare to tell me to my face, you perjured
+Lombard, that you know nothing of de Chargny and his plans?"
+
+"As God is my witness I know nothing of him!" The man's lips were white,
+and he spoke in a thin, sighing, reedy voice, his eyes wincing away from
+the fell gaze of the angry King.
+
+Edward laughed bitterly, and drew a paper from his breast. "You are the
+judges in this case, you, my fair son, and you, Chandos, and you, Manny,
+and you, Sir Hubert, and you also, my Lord Bishop. By my sovereign power
+I make you a court that you may deal justice upon this man, for by God's
+eyes I will not stir from this room until I have sifted the matter to
+the bottom. And first I would read you this letter. It is superscribed
+to Sir Aymery of Pavia, nomme Le Lombard, Chateau de Calais. Is not that
+your name and style, you rogue?"
+
+"It is my name, sire; but no such letter has come to me."
+
+"Else had your villainy never been disclosed. It is signed 'Isidore de
+Chargny'. What says my enemy de Chargny to my trusted servant? Listen!
+'We could not come with the last moon, for we have not gathered
+sufficient strength, nor have we been able to collect the twenty
+thousand crowns which are your price. But with the next turn of the moon
+in the darkest hour we will come and you will be paid your money at the
+small postern gate with the rowan-bush beside it.' Well, rogue, what say
+you now?"
+
+"It is a forgery!" gasped the Italian.
+
+"I pray you that you will let me see it, sire," said Chandos. "De
+Chargny was my prisoner, and so many letters passed ere his ransom was
+paid that his script is well-known to me. Yes, yes, I will swear that
+this is indeed his. If my salvation were at stake I could swear it."
+
+"If it were indeed written by de Chargny it was to dishonor me," cried
+Sir Aymery.
+
+"Nay, nay!" said the young Prince. "We all know de Chargny and have
+fought against him. Many faults he has, a boaster and a brawler, but a
+braver man and one of greater heart and higher of enterprise does not
+ride beneath the lilies of France. Such a man would never stoop to write
+a letter for the sake of putting dishonor upon one of knightly rank. I,
+for one, will never believe it."
+
+A gruff murmur from the others showed that they were of one mind with
+the Prince. The light of the torches from the walls beat upon the line
+of stern faces at the high table. They had sat like flint, and the
+Italian shrank from their inexorable eyes. He looked swiftly round, but
+armed men choked every entrance. The shadow of death had fallen athwart
+his soul.
+
+"This letter," said the King, "was given by de Chargny to one Dom
+Beauvais, a priest of St. Omer, to carry into Calais. The said priest,
+smelling a reward, brought it to one who is my faithful servant, and so
+it came to me. Straightway I sent for this man that he should come to
+me. Meanwhile the priest has returned so that de Chargny may think that
+his message is indeed delivered."
+
+"I know nothing of it," said the Italian doggedly, licking his dry lips.
+
+A dark flush mounted to the King's forehead, and his eyes were gorged
+with his wrath. "No more of this, for God's dignity!" he cried. "Had
+we this fellow at the Tower, a few turns of the rack would tear a
+confession from his craven soul. But why should we need his word for his
+own guilt? You have seen, my lords, you have heard! How say you, fair
+son? Is the man guilty?"
+
+"Sire, he is guilty."
+
+"And you, John? And you, Walter? And you, Hubert? And you, my Lord
+Bishop? You are all of one mind, then. He is guilty of the betrayal of
+his trust. And the punishment?"
+
+"It can only be death," said the Prince, and each in turn the others
+nodded their agreement.
+
+"Aymery of Pavia, you have heard your doom," said Edward, leaning his
+chin upon his hand and glooming at the cowering Italian. "Step forward,
+you archer at the door, you with the black beard. Draw your sword!
+Nay, you white-faced rogue, I would not dishonor this roof-tree by your
+blood. It is your heels, not your head, that we want. Hack off these
+golden spurs of knighthood with your sword, archer! 'Twas I who gave
+them, and I who take them back. Ha! they fly across the hall, and with
+them every bond betwixt you and the worshipful order whose sign and
+badge they are! Now lead him out on the heath afar from the house where
+his carrion can best lie, and hew his scheming head from his body as a
+warning to all such traitors!"
+
+The Italian, who had slipped from his chair to his knees, uttered a cry
+of despair, as an archer seized him by either shoulder. Writhing out of
+their grip, he threw himself upon the floor and clutched at the King's
+feet.
+
+"Spare me, my most dread lord, spare me, I beseech you! In the name of
+Christ's passion, I implore your grace and pardon! Bethink you, my good
+and dear lord, how many years I have served under your banners and how
+many services I have rendered. Was it not I who found the ford upon the
+Seine two days before the great battle? Was it not I also who marshaled
+the attack at the intaking of Calais? I have a wife and four children in
+Italy, great King; and it was the thought of them which led me to fall
+from my duty, for this money would have allowed me to leave the wars and
+to see them once again. Mercy, my liege, mercy, I implore!"
+
+The English are a rough race, but not a cruel one. The King sat with a
+face of doom; but the others looked askance and fidgeted in their seats.
+
+"Indeed, my fair liege," said Chandos, "I pray you that you will abate
+somewhat of your anger."
+
+Edward shook his head curtly. "Be silent, John. It shall be as I have
+said."
+
+"I pray you, my dear and honored liege, not to act with overmuch haste
+in the matter," said Manny. "Bind him and hold him until the morning,
+for other counsels may prevail."
+
+"Nay, I have spoken. Lead him out!"
+
+But the trembling man clung to the King's knees in such a fashion that
+the archers could not disengage his convulsive grip. "Listen to me a
+moment, I implore you! Give me but one minute to plead with you, and
+then do what you will."
+
+The King leaned back in his chair. "Speak and have done," said he.
+
+"You must spare me, my noble liege. For your own sake I say that you
+must spare me, for I can set you in the way of such a knightly adventure
+as will gladden your heart. Bethink you, sire, that this de Chargny and
+his comrades know nothing of their plans having gone awry. If I do but
+send them a message they will surely come to the postern gate. Then, if
+we have placed our bushment with skill we shall have such a capture and
+such a ransom as will fill your coffers. He and his comrades should be
+worth a good hundred thousand crowns."
+
+Edward spurned the Italian away from him with his foot until he sprawled
+among the rushes, but even as he lay there like a wounded snake his dark
+eyes never left the King's face.
+
+"You double traitor! You would sell Calais to de Chargny, and then in
+turn you would sell de Chargny to me. How dare you suppose that I or
+any noble knight had such a huckster's soul as to think only of ransoms
+where honor is to be won? Could I or any true man be so caitiff and so
+thrall? You have sealed your own doom. Lead him out!"
+
+"One instant, I pray you, my fair and most sweet lord," cried the
+Prince. "Assuage your wrath yet a little while, for this man's rede
+deserves perhaps more thought than we have given it. He has turned your
+noble soul sick with his talk of ransoms; but look at it, I pray
+you, from the side of honor, and where could we find such hope of
+worshipfully winning worship? I pray you to let me put my body in
+this adventure, for it is one from which, if rightly handled, much
+advancement is to be gained."
+
+Edward looked with sparkling eyes at the noble youth at his side. "Never
+was hound more keen on the track of a stricken hart than you on the hope
+of honor, fair son," said he. "How do you conceive the matter in your
+mind?"
+
+"De Chargny and his men will be such as are worth going far to meet, for
+he will have the pick of France under his banner that night. If we did
+as this man says and awaited him with the same number of lances, then
+I cannot think that there is any spot in Christendom where one would
+rather be than in Calais that night."
+
+"By the rood, fair son, you are right!" cried the King, his face shining
+with the thought. "Now which of you, John Chandos or Walter Manny, will
+take the thing in charge?" He looked mischievously from one to the other
+like a master who dangles a bone betwixt two fierce old hounds. All they
+had to say was in their burning, longing eyes. "Nay, John, you must not
+take it amiss; but it is Walter's turn, and he shall have it."
+
+"Shall we not all go under your banner, sire, or that of the Prince?"
+
+"Nay, it is not fitting that the royal banners of England should be
+advanced in so small an adventure. And yet, if you have space in your
+ranks for two more cavaliers, both the Prince and I would ride with you
+that night."
+
+The young man stooped and kissed his father's hand.
+
+"Take this man in your charge, Walter, and do with him as you will.
+Guard well lest he betray us once again. Take him from my sight, for
+his breath poisons the room. And now, Nigel, if that worthy graybeard
+of thine would fain twang his harp or sing to us--but what in God's name
+would you have?"
+
+He had turned, to find his young host upon his knee and his flaxen head
+bent in entreaty.
+
+"What is it, man? What do you crave?"
+
+"A boon, fair liege!"
+
+"Well, well, am I to have no peace to-night, with a traitor kneeling
+to me in front, and a true man on his knees behind? Out with it, Nigel.
+What would you have?"
+
+"To come with you to Calais."
+
+"By the rood! your request is fair enough, seeing that our plot is
+hatched beneath your very roof. How say you, Walter? Will you take him,
+armor and all?" asked King Edward.
+
+"Say rather will you take me?" said Chandos. "We two are rivals in
+honor, Walter, but I am very sure that you would not hold me back."
+
+"Nay, John, I will be proud to have the best lance in Christendom
+beneath my banner."
+
+"And I to follow so knightly a leader. But Nigel Loring is my Squire,
+and so he comes with us also."
+
+"Then that is settled," said the King, "and now there is no need for
+hurry, since there can be no move until the moon has changed. So I pray
+you to pass the flagon once again, and to drink with me to the good
+knights of France. May they be of great heart and high of enterprise
+when we all meet once more within the castle wall of Calais!"
+
+
+
+
+XI. IN THE HALL OF THE KNIGHT OF DUPLIN
+
+
+The King had come and had gone. Tilford Manor house stood once more dark
+and silent, but joy and contentment reigned within its walls. In one
+night every trouble had fallen away like some dark curtain which had
+shut out the sun. A princely sum of money had come from the King's
+treasurer, given in such fashion that there could be no refusal. With
+a bag of gold pieces at his saddle-bow Nigel rode once more into
+Guildford, and not a beggar on the way who had not cause to bless his
+name.
+
+There he had gone first to the goldsmith and had bought back cup and
+salver and bracelet, mourning with the merchant over the evil chance
+that gold and gold-work had for certain reasons which only those in the
+trade could fully understand gone up in value during the last week, so
+that already fifty gold pieces had to be paid more than the price which
+Nigel had received. In vain the faithful Aylward fretted and fumed and
+muttered a prayer that the day would come when he might feather a shaft
+in the merchant's portly paunch. The money had to be paid.
+
+Thence Nigel hurried to Wat the armorer's and there he bought that very
+suit for which he had yearned so short a time before. Then and there he
+tried it on in the booth, Wat and his boy walking round him with spanner
+and wrench, fixing bolts and twisting rivets.
+
+"How is that, my fair sir?" cried the armorer as he drew the bassinet
+over the head and fastened it to the camail which extended to the
+shoulders. "I swear by Tubal Cain that it fits you as the shell fits the
+crab! A finer suit never came from Italy or Spain."
+
+Nigel stood in front of a burnished shield which served as a mirror,
+and he turned this way and that, preening himself like a little shining
+bird. His smooth breastplate, his wondrous joints with their deft
+protection by the disks at knee and elbow and shoulder, the
+beautifully flexible gauntlets and sollerets, the shirt of mail and the
+close-fitting greave-plates were all things of joy and of beauty in his
+eyes. He sprang about the shop to show his lightness, and then running
+out he placed his hand on the pommel and vaulted into Pommers' saddle,
+while Wat and his boy applauded in the doorway.
+
+Then springing off and running into the shop again he clanked down upon
+his knees before the image of the Virgin upon the smithy wall. There
+from his heart he prayed that no shadow or stain should come upon his
+soul or his honor whilst these arms incased his body, and that he might
+be strengthened to use them for noble and godly ends. A strange turn
+this to a religion of peace, and yet for many a century the sword and
+the faith had upheld each other and in a darkened world the best ideal
+of the soldier had turned in some dim groping fashion toward the light.
+"Benedictus dominus deus meus qui docet manus meas ad Praelium et
+digitos meos ad bellum!" There spoke the soul of the knightly soldier.
+
+So the armor was trussed upon the armorer's mule and went back with them
+to Tilford, where Nigel put it on once more for the pleasure of the Lady
+Ermyntrude, who clapped her skinny hands and shed tears of mingled pain
+and joy--pain that she should lose him, joy that he should go so bravely
+to the wars. As to her own future, it had been made easy for her, since
+it was arranged that a steward should look to the Tilford estate whilst
+she had at her disposal a suite of rooms in royal Windsor, where with
+other venerable dames of her own age and standing she could spend the
+twilight of her days discussing long-forgotten scandals and whispering
+sad things about the grandfathers and the grandmothers of the young
+courtiers all around them. There Nigel might leave her with an easy mind
+when he turned his face to France.
+
+But there was one more visit to be paid and one more farewell to be
+spoken ere Nigel could leave the moorlands where he had dwelled so long.
+That evening he donned his brightest tunic, dark purple velvet of Genoa,
+with trimming of miniver, his hat with the snow-white feather curling
+round the front, and his belt of embossed silver round his loins.
+Mounted on lordly Pommers, with his hawk upon wrist and his sword by
+his side, never did fairer young gallant or one more modest in mind set
+forth upon such an errand. It was but the old Knight of Duplin to whom
+he would say farewell; but the Knight of Duplin had two daughters, Edith
+and Mary, and Edith was the fairest maid in all the heather-country.
+
+Sir John Buttesthorn, the Knight of Duplin, was so called because he had
+been present at that strange battle, some eighteen years before, when
+the full power of Scotland had been for a moment beaten to the ground by
+a handful of adventurers and mercenaries, marching under the banner
+of no nation, but fighting in their own private quarrel. Their exploit
+fills no pages of history, for it is to the interest of no nation to
+record it, and yet the rumor and fame of the great fight bulked large in
+those times, for it was on that day when the flower of Scotland was left
+dead upon the field, that the world first understood that a new force
+had arisen in war, and that the English archer, with his robust courage
+and his skill with the weapon which he had wielded from his boyhood, was
+a power with which even the mailed chivalry of Europe had seriously to
+reckon.
+
+Sir John after his return from Scotland had become the King's own head
+huntsman, famous through all England for his knowledge of venery, until
+at last, getting overheavy for his horses, he had settled in modest
+comfort into the old house of Cosford upon the eastern <DW72> of the
+Hindhead hill. Here, as his face grew redder and his beard more white,
+he spent the evening of his days, amid hawks and hounds, a flagon of
+spiced wine ever at his elbow, and his swollen foot perched upon a stool
+before him. There it was that many an old comrade broke his journey as
+he passed down the rude road which led from London to Portsmouth, and
+thither also came the young gallants of the country to hear the stout
+knight's tales of old wars, or to learn, from him that lore of the
+forest and the chase which none could teach so well as he.
+
+But sooth to say, whatever the old knight might think, it was not merely
+his old tales and older wine which drew the young men to Cosford, but
+rather the fair face of his younger daughter, or the strong soul and
+wise counsel of the elder. Never had two more different branches sprung
+from the same trunk. Both were tall and of a queenly graceful figure.
+But there all resemblance began and ended.
+
+Edith was yellow as the ripe corn, blue-eyed, winning, mischievous, with
+a chattering tongue, a merry laugh, and a smile which a dozen of young
+gallants, Nigel of Tilford at their head, could share equally amongst
+them. Like a young kitten she played with all things that she found in
+life, and some there were who thought that already the claws could be
+felt amid the patting of her velvet touch.
+
+Mary was dark as night, grave-featured, plain-visaged, with steady brown
+eyes looking bravely at the world from under a strong black arch of
+brows. None could call her beautiful, and when her fair sister cast her
+arm round her and placed her cheek against hers, as was her habit when
+company was there, the fairness of the one and the plainness of the
+other leaped visibly to the eyes of all, each the clearer for that hard
+contrast. And yet, here and there, there was one who, looking at her
+strange, strong face, and at the passing gleams far down in her dark
+eyes, felt that this silent woman with her proud bearing and her queenly
+grace had in her something of strength, of reserve and of mystery which
+was more to them than all the dainty glitter of her sister.
+
+Such were the ladies of Cosford toward whom Nigel Loring rode that night
+with doublet of Genoan velvet and the new white feather in his cap.
+
+He had ridden over Thursley Ridge past that old stone where in days gone
+by at the place of Thor the wild Saxons worshiped their war-god. Nigel
+looked at it with a wary eye and spurred Pommers onward as he passed it,
+for still it was said that wild fires danced round it on the moonless
+nights, and they who had ears for such things could hear the scream and
+sob of those whose lives had been ripped from them that the fiend might
+be honored. Thor's stone, Thor's jumps, Thor's punch-bowl--the whole
+country-side was one grim monument to the God of Battles, though the
+pious monks had changed his uncouth name for that of the Devil his
+father, so that it was the Devil's jumps and the Devil's punch-bowl of
+which they spoke. Nigel glanced back at the old gray boulder, and he
+felt for an instant a shudder pass through his stout heart. Was it the
+chill of the evening air, or was it that some inner voice had whispered
+to him of the day when he also might lie bound on such a rock and have
+such a blood-stained pagan crew howling around him.
+
+An instant later the rock and his vague fear and all things else had
+passed from his mind, for there, down the yellow sandy path, the setting
+sun gleaming on her golden hair, her lithe figure bending and swaying
+with every heave of the cantering horse, was none other than the same
+fair Edith, whose face had come so often betwixt him and his sleep. His
+blood rushed hot to his face at the sight, for fearless of all else, his
+spirit was attracted and yet daunted by the delicate mystery of woman.
+To his pure and knightly soul not Edith alone, but every woman, sat high
+and aloof, enthroned and exalted, with a thousand mystic excellencies
+and virtues which raised her far above the rude world of man. There
+was joy in contact with them; and yet there was fear, fear lest his own
+unworthiness, his untrained tongue or rougher ways should in some way
+break rudely upon this delicate and tender thing. Such was his thought
+as the white horse cantered toward him; but a moment later his vague
+doubts were set at rest by the frank voice of the young girl, who waved
+her whip in merry greeting.
+
+"Hail and well met, Nigel!" she cried. "Whither away this evening? Sure
+I am that it is not to see your friends of Cosford, for when did you
+ever don so brave a doublet for us? Come, Nigel, her name, that I may
+hate her for ever."
+
+"Nay, Edith," said the young Squire, laughing back at the laughing girl.
+"I was indeed coming to Cosford."
+
+"Then we shall ride back together, for I will go no farther. How think
+you that I am looking?"
+
+Nigel's answer was in his eyes as he glanced at the fair flushed face,
+the golden hair, the sparkling eyes and the daintily graceful figure
+set off in a scarlet-and-black riding-dress. "You are as fair as ever,
+Edith."
+
+"Oh, cold of speech! Surely you were bred for the cloisters, and not for
+a lady's bower, Nigel. Had I asked such a question from young Sir George
+Brocas or the Squire of Fernhurst, he would have raved from here to
+Cosford. They are both more to my taste than you are, Nigel."
+
+"It is the worse for me, Edith," said Nigel ruefully.
+
+"Nay, but you must not lose heart."
+
+"Have I not already lost it?" said he.
+
+"That is better," she cried, laughing. "You can be quick enough when you
+choose, Master Malapert. But you are more fit to speak of high and
+weary matters with my sister Mary. She will have none of the prattle and
+courtesy of Sir George, and yet I love them well. But tell me, Nigel,
+why do you come to Cosford to-night?"
+
+"To bid you farewell."
+
+"Me alone?"
+
+"Nay, Edith, you and your sister Mary and the good knight your father."
+
+"Sir George would have said that he had come for me alone. Indeed you
+are but a poor courtier beside him. But is it true, Nigel, that you go
+to France?"
+
+"Yes, Edith."
+
+"It was so rumored after the King had been to Tilford. The story goes
+that the King goes to France and you in his train. Is that true?"
+
+"Yes, Edith, it is true."
+
+"Tell me, then, to what part you go, and when?"
+
+"That, alas! I may not say."
+
+"Oh, in sooth!" She tossed her fair head and rode onward in silence,
+with compressed lips and angry eyes.
+
+Nigel glanced at her in surprise and dismay. "Surely, Edith," said he at
+last, "you have overmuch regard for my honor that you should wish me to
+break the word that I have given?"
+
+"Your honor belongs to you, and my likings belong to me," said she. "You
+hold fast to the one, and I will do the same by the other."
+
+They rode in silence through Thursley village. Then a thought came to
+her mind and in an instant her anger was forgotten and she was hot on a
+new scent.
+
+"What would you do if I were injured, Nigel? I have heard my father say
+that small as you are there is no man in these parts could stand against
+you. Would you be my champion if I suffered wrong?"
+
+"Surely I or any man of gentle blood would be the champion of any woman
+who had suffered wrong."
+
+"You or any and I or any--what sort of speech is that? Is it a
+compliment, think you, to be mixed with a drove in that fashion? My
+question was of you and me. If I were wronged would you be my man?"
+
+"Try me and see, Edith!"
+
+"Then I will do so, Nigel. Either Sir George Brocas or the Squire of
+Fernhurst would gladly do what I ask, and yet I am of a mind, Nigel, to
+turn to you."
+
+"I pray you to tell me what it is."
+
+"You know Paul de la Fosse of Shalford?"
+
+"You mean the small man with the twisted back?"
+
+"He is no smaller than yourself, Nigel, and as to his back there are
+many folk that I know who would be glad to have his face."
+
+"Nay, I am no judge of that, and I spoke out of no discourtesy. What of
+the man?"
+
+"He has flouted me, Nigel, and I would have revenge."
+
+"What--on that poor twisted creature?"
+
+"I tell you that he has flouted me!"
+
+"But how?"
+
+"I should have thought that a true cavalier would have flown to my aid,
+withouten all these questions. But I will tell you, since I needs must.
+Know then that he was one of those who came around me and professed to
+be my own. Then, merely because he thought that there were others who
+were as dear to me as himself he left me, and now he pays court to Maude
+Twynham, the little freckle-faced hussy in his village."
+
+"But how has this hurt you, since he was no man of thine?"
+
+"He was one of my men, was he not? And he has made game of me to his
+wench. He has told her things about me. He has made me foolish in her
+eyes. Yes, yes, I can read it in her saffron face and in her watery eyes
+when we meet at the church door on Sundays. She smiles--yes, smiles at
+me! Nigel, go to him! Do not slay him, nor even wound him, but lay his
+face open with thy riding-whip, and then come back to me and tell me how
+I can serve you."
+
+Nigel's face was haggard with the strife within, for desire ran hot in
+every vein, and yet reason shrank with horror. "By Saint Paul! Edith,"
+he cried, "I see no honor nor advancement of any sort in this thing
+which you have asked me to do. Is it for me to strike one who is no
+better than a <DW36>? For my manhood I could not do such a deed, and I
+pray you, dear lady, that you will set me some other task."
+
+Her eyes flashed at him in contempt. "And you are a man-at-arms!" she
+cried, laughing in bitter scorn. "You are afraid of a little man who can
+scarce walk. Yes, yes, say what you will, I shall ever believe that you
+have heard of his skill at fence and of his great spirit, and that your
+heart has failed you! You are right, Nigel. He is indeed a perilous man.
+Had you done what I asked he would have slain you, and so you have shown
+your wisdom."
+
+Nigel flushed and winced under the words, but he said no more, for his
+mind was fighting hard within him, striving to keep that high image
+of woman which seemed for a moment to totter on the edge of a fall.
+Together in silence, side by side, the little man and the stately woman,
+the yellow charger and the white jennet, passed up the sandy winding
+track with the gorse and the bracken head-high on either side. Soon a
+path branched off through a gateway marked with the boar-heads of the
+Buttesthorns, and there was the low widespread house heavily timbered,
+loud with the barking of dogs. The ruddy Knight limped forth with
+outstretched hand and roaring voice--
+
+"What how, Nigel! Good welcome and all hail! I had thought that you had
+given over poor friends like us, now that the King had made so much
+of you. The horses, varlets, or my crutch will be across you! Hush,
+Lydiard! Down, Pelamon! I can scarce hear my voice for your yelping.
+Mary, a cup of wine for young Squire Loring!"
+
+She stood framed in the doorway, tall, mystic, silent, with strange,
+wistful face and deep soul shining in her dark, questioning eyes. Nigel
+kissed the hand that she held out, and all his faith in woman and his
+reverence came back to him as he looked at her. Her sister had slipped
+behind her and her fair elfish face smiled her forgiveness of Nigel over
+Mary's shoulder.
+
+The Knight of Duplin leaned his weight upon the young man's arm and
+limped his way across the great high-roofed hall to his capacious oaken
+chair. "Come, come, the stool, Edith!" he cried. "As God is my help,
+that girl's mind swarms with gallants as a granary with rats. Well,
+Nigel, I hear strange tales of your spear-running at Tilford and of the
+visit of the King. How seemed he? And my old friend Chandos--many happy
+hours in the woodlands have we had together--and Manny too, he was ever
+a bold and a hard rider--what news of them all?"
+
+Nigel told to the old Knight all that had occurred, saying little of his
+own success and much of his own failure, yet the eyes of the dark woman
+burned the brighter as she sat at her tapestry and listened.
+
+Sir John followed the story with a running fire of oaths, prayers,
+thumps with his great fist and flourishes of his crutch. "Well, well,
+lad, you could scarce expect to hold your saddle against Manny, and you
+have carried yourself well. We are proud of you, Nigel, for you are our
+own man, reared in the heather country. But indeed I take shame that you
+are not more skilled in the mystery of the woods, seeing that I have had
+the teaching of you, and that no one in broad England is my master at
+the craft. I pray you to fill your cup again whilst I make use of the
+little time that is left to us."
+
+And straightway the old Knight began a long and weary lecture upon the
+times of grace and when each beast and bird was seasonable, with many
+anecdotes, illustrations, warnings and exceptions, drawn from his own
+great experience. He spoke also of the several ranks and grades of the
+chase: how the hare, hart and boar must ever take precedence over
+the buck, the doe, the fox, the marten and the roe, even as a knight
+banneret does over a knight, while these in turn are of a higher class
+to the badger, the wildcat or the otter, who are but the common populace
+of the world of beasts. Of blood-stains also he spoke--how the skilled
+hunter may see at a glance if blood be dark and frothy, which means a
+mortal hurt, or thin and clear, which means that the arrow has struck a
+bone.
+
+"By such signs," said he, "you will surely know whether to lay on the
+hounds and cast down the blinks which hinder the stricken deer in its
+flight. But above all I pray you, Nigel, to have a care in the use of
+the terms of the craft, lest you should make some blunder at table, so
+that those who are wiser may have the laugh of you, and we who love you
+may be shamed."
+
+"Nay, Sir John," said Nigel. "I think that after your teaching I can
+hold my place with the others."
+
+The old Knight shook his white head doubtfully. "There is so much to be
+learned that there is no one who can be said to know all," said he. "For
+example, Nigel, it is sooth that for every collection of beasts of the
+forest, and for every gathering of birds of the air, there is their own
+private name so that none may be confused with another."
+
+"I know it, fair sir."
+
+"You know it, Nigel, but you do not know each separate name, else are
+you a wiser man than I had thought you. In truth--none can say that they
+know all, though I have myself picked off eighty, and six for a wager
+at court, and it is said that the chief huntsman of the Duke of Burgundy
+has counted over a hundred--but it is in my mind that he may have found
+them as he went, for there was none to say him nay. Answer me now, lad,
+how would you say if you saw ten badgers together in the forest?"
+
+"A cete of badgers, fair sir."
+
+"Good, Nigel--good, by my faith! And if you walk in Woolmer Forest and
+see a swarm of foxes, how would you call it?"
+
+"A skulk of foxes."
+
+"And if they be lions?"
+
+"Nay, fair sir, I am not like to meet several lions in Woolmer Forest."
+
+"Aye, lad, but there are other forests besides Woolmer, and other lands
+besides England, and who can tell how far afield such a knight errant
+as Nigel of Tilford may go, when he sees worship to be won? We will say
+that you were in the deserts of Nubia, and that afterward at the court
+of the great Sultan you wished to say that you had seen several lions,
+which is the first beast of the chase, being the king of all animals.
+How then would you say it?"
+
+Nigel scratched his head. "Surely, fair sir, I would be content to say
+that I had seen a number of lions, if indeed I could say aught after so
+wondrous an adventure."
+
+"Nay, Nigel, a huntsman would have said that he had seen a pride of
+lions, and so proved that he knew the language of the chase. Now had it
+been boars instead of lions?"
+
+"One says a singular of boars."
+
+"And if they be swine?"
+
+"Surely it is a herd of swine."
+
+"Nay, nay, lad, it is indeed sad to see how little you know. Your hands,
+Nigel, were always better than your head. No man of gentle birth would
+speak of a herd of swine; that is the peasant speech. If you drive them
+it is a herd. If you hunt them it is other. What call you them, then,
+Edith?"
+
+"Nay, I know not," said the girl listlessly. A crumpled note brought in
+by a varlet was clinched in her right hand and her blue eyes looked afar
+into the deep shadows of the roof.
+
+"But you can tell us, Mary?"
+
+"Surely, sweet sir, one talks of a sounder of swine."
+
+The old Knight laughed exultantly. "Here is a pupil who never brings me
+shame!" he cried. "Be it lore--of chivalry or heraldry or woodcraft or
+what you will, I can always turn to Mary. Many a man can she put to the
+blush."
+
+"Myself among them," said Nigel.
+
+"Ah, lad, you are a Solomon to some of them. Hark ye! only last week
+that jack-fool, the young Lord of Brocas, was here talking of having
+seen a covey of pheasants in the wood. One such speech would have been
+the ruin of a young Squire at the court. How would you have said it,
+Nigel?"
+
+"Surely, fair sir, it should be a nye of pheasants."
+
+"Good, Nigel--a nye of pheasants, even as it is a gaggle of geese or a
+badling of ducks, a fall of woodcock or a wisp of snipe. But a covey of
+pheasants! What sort of talk is that? I made him sit even where you are
+sitting, Nigel, and I saw the bottom of two pots of Rhenish ere I let
+him up. Even then I fear that he had no great profit from his lesson,
+for he was casting his foolish eyes at Edith when he should have been
+turning his ears to her father. But where is the wench?"
+
+"She hath gone forth, father."
+
+"She ever doth go forth when there is a chance of learning aught that is
+useful indoors. But supper will soon be ready, and there is a boar's
+ham fresh from the forest with which I would ask your help, Nigel, and
+a side of venison from the King's own chase. The tinemen and verderers
+have not forgotten me yet, and my larder is ever full. Blow three moots
+on the horn, Mary, that the varlets may set the table, for the growing
+shadow and my loosening belt warn me that it is time."
+
+
+
+
+XII. HOW NIGEL FOUGHT THE TWISTED MAN OF SHALFORD
+
+
+In the days of which you read all classes, save perhaps the very poor,
+fared better in meat and in drink than they have ever done since. The
+country was covered with woodlands--there were seventy separate forests
+in England alone, some of them covering half a shire. Within these
+forests the great beasts of the chase were strictly preserved, but the
+smaller game, the hares, the rabbits, the birds, which swarmed round the
+coverts, found their way readily into the poor man's pot. Ale was very
+cheap, and cheaper still was the mead which every peasant could make
+for himself out of the wild honey in the tree-trunks. There were many
+tea-like drinks also, which were brewed by the poor at no expense:
+mallow tea, tansy tea, and others the secret of which has passed.
+
+Amid the richer classes there was rude profusion, great joints ever on
+the sideboard, huge pies, beasts of the field and beasts of the chase,
+with ale and rough French or Rhenish wines to wash them down. But the
+very rich had attained to a high pitch of luxury in their food, and
+cookery was a science in which the ornamentation of the dish was
+almost as important as the dressing of the food. It was gilded, it was
+silvered, it was painted, it was surrounded with flame. From the boar
+and the peacock down to such strange food as the porpoise and the
+hedgehog, every dish had its own setting and its own sauce, very strange
+and very complex, with flavorings of dates, currants, cloves, vinegar,
+sugar and honey, of cinnamon, ground ginger, sandalwood, saffron, brawn
+and pines. It was the Norman tradition to eat in moderation, but to have
+a great profusion of the best and of the most delicate from which to
+choose. From them came this complex cookery, so unlike the rude and
+often gluttonous simplicity of the old Teutonic stock.
+
+Sir John Buttesthorn was of that middle class who fared in the old
+fashion, and his great oak supper-table groaned beneath the generous
+pastries, the mighty joints and the great flagons. Below were the
+household, above on a raised dais the family table, with places ever
+ready for those frequent guests who dropped in from the high road
+outside. Such a one had just come, an old priest, journeying from the
+Abbey of Chertsey to the Priory of Saint John at Midhurst. He passed
+often that way, and never without breaking his journey at the hospitable
+board of Cosford.
+
+"Welcome again, good Father Athanasius!" cried the burly Knight. "Come
+sit here on my right and give me the news of the country-side, for there
+is never a scandal but the priests are the first to know it."
+
+The priest, a kindly, quiet man, glanced at an empty place upon the
+farther side of his host. "Mistress Edith?" said he.
+
+"Aye, aye, where is the hussy?" cried her father impatiently. "Mary, I
+beg you to have the horn blown again, that she may know that the supper
+is on the table. What can the little owlet do abroad at this hour of the
+night?"
+
+There was trouble in the priest's gentle eyes as he touched the Knight
+upon the sleeve. "I have seen Mistress Edith within this hour," said he.
+"I fear that she will hear no horn that you may blow, for she must be at
+Milford ere now."
+
+"At Milford? What does she there?"
+
+"I pray you, good Sir John, to abate your voice somewhat, for indeed
+this matter is for our private discourse, since it touches the honor of
+a lady."
+
+"Her honor?" Sir John's ruddy face had turned redder still, as he stared
+at the troubled features of the priest. "Her honor, say you--the honor
+of my daughter? Make good those words, or never set your foot over the
+threshold of Cosford again!"
+
+"I trust that I have done no wrong, Sir John, but indeed I must say what
+I have seen, else would I be a false friend and an unworthy priest."
+
+"Haste man, haste! What in the Devil's name have you seen?"
+
+"Know you a little man, partly misshapen, named Paul de la Fosse?"
+
+"I know him well. He is a man of noble family and coat-armor, being the
+younger brother of Sir Eustace de la Fosse of Shalford. Time was when I
+had thought that I might call him son, for there was never a day that
+he did not pass with my girls, but I fear that his crooked back sped him
+ill in his wooing."
+
+"Alas, Sir John! It is his mind that is more crooked than his back. He
+is a perilous man with women, for the Devil hath given him such a tongue
+and such an eye that he charms them even as the basilisk. Marriage may
+be in their mind, but never in his, so that I could count a dozen and
+more whom he has led to their undoing. It is his pride and his boast
+over the whole countryside."
+
+"Well, well, and what is this to me or mine?"
+
+"Even now, Sir John, as I rode my mule up the road I met this man
+speeding toward his home. A woman rode by his side, and though her face
+was hooded I heard her laugh as she passed me. That laugh I have heard
+before, and it was under this very roof, from the lips of Mistress
+Edith."
+
+The Knight's knife dropped from his hand. But the debate had been such
+that neither Mary nor Nigel could fail to have heard it. Mid the rough
+laughter and clatter of voices from below the little group at the high
+table had a privacy of their own.
+
+"Fear not, father," said the girl--"indeed, the good Father Athanasius
+hath fallen into error, and Edith will be with us anon. I have heard her
+speak of this man many times of late, and always with bitter words."
+
+"It is true, sir," cried Nigel eagerly. "It was only this very evening
+as we rode over Thursley Moor that Mistress Edith told me that she
+counted him not a fly, and that she would be glad if he were beaten for
+his evil deeds."
+
+But the wise priest shook his silvery locks. "Nay, there is ever danger
+when a woman speaks like that. Hot hate is twin brother to hot love. Why
+should she speak so if there were not some bond between them?"
+
+"And yet," said Nigel, "what can have changed her thoughts in three
+short hours? She was here in the hall with us since I came. By Saint
+Paul, I will not believe it!"
+
+Mary's face darkened. "I call to mind," said she, "that a note was
+brought her by Hannekin the stable varlet when you were talking to us,
+fair sir, of the terms of the chase. She read it and went forth."
+
+Sir John sprang to his feet, but sank into his chair again with a groan.
+"Would that I were dead," he cried, "ere I saw dishonor come upon my
+house, and am so tied with this accursed foot that I can neither examine
+if it be true, nor yet avenge it! If my son Oliver were here, then all
+would be well. Send me this stable varlet that I may question him."
+
+"I pray you, fair and honored sir," said Nigel, "that you will take me
+for your son this night, that I may handle this matter in the way which
+seems best. On jeopardy of my honor I will do all that a man may."
+
+"Nigel, I thank you. There is no man in Christendom to whom I would
+sooner turn."
+
+"But I would lean your mind in one matter, fair sir. This man, Paul de
+la Fosse, owns broad acres, as I understand, and comes of noble blood.
+There is no reason if things be as we fear that he should not marry your
+daughter?"
+
+"Nay, she could not wish for better."
+
+"It is well. And first I would question this Hannekin; but it shall
+be done in such a fashion that none shall know, for indeed it is not
+a matter for the gossip of servants. But if you will show me the man,
+Mistress Mary, I will take him out to tend my own horse, and so I shall
+learn all that he has to tell."
+
+Nigel was absent for some time, and when he returned the shadow upon
+his face brought little hope to the anxious hearts at the high table.
+"I have locked him in the stable loft, lest he talk too much," said
+he, "for my questions must have shown him whence the wind blew. It was
+indeed from this man that the note came, and he had brought with him a
+spare horse for the lady."
+
+The old Knight groaned, and his face sank upon his hands.
+
+"Nay, father, they watch you!" whispered Mary. "For the honor of our
+house let us keep a bold face to all." Then, raising her young clear
+voice, so that it sounded through the room: "If you ride eastward,
+Nigel, I would fain go with you, that my sister may not come back
+alone."
+
+"We will ride together, Mary," said Nigel, rising; then in a lower
+voice: "But we cannot go alone, and if we take a servant all is known. I
+pray you to stay at home and leave the matter with me."
+
+"Nay, Nigel, she may sorely need a woman's aid, and what woman should it
+be save her own sister? I can take my tire-woman with us."
+
+"Nay, I shall ride with you myself if your impatience can keep within
+the powers of my mule," said the old priest.
+
+"But it is not your road, father?"
+
+"The only road of a true priest is that which leads to the good of
+others. Come, my children, and we will go together."
+
+And so it was that stout Sir John Buttesthorn, the aged Knight of
+Duplin, was left alone at his own high table, pretending to eat,
+pretending to drink, fidgeting in his seat, trying hard to seem
+unconcerned with his mind and body in a fever, while below him his
+varlets and handmaids laughed and jested, clattering their cups and
+clearing their trenchers, all unconscious of the dark shadow which threw
+its gloom over the lonely man upon the dais above.
+
+Meantime the Lady Mary upon the white jennet which her sister had ridden
+on the same evening, Nigel on his war-horse, and the priest on the mule,
+clattered down the rude winding road which led to London. The country on
+either side was a wilderness of heather moors and of morasses from which
+came the strange crying of night-fowl. A half-moon shone in the sky
+between the rifts of hurrying clouds. The lady rode in silence, absorbed
+in the thought of the task before them, the danger and the shame.
+
+Nigel chatted in a low tone with the priest. From him he learned more of
+the evil name of this man whom they followed. His house at Shalford was
+a den of profligacy and vice. No woman could cross that threshold and
+depart unstained. In some strange fashion, inexplicable and yet common,
+the man, with all his evil soul and his twisted body, had yet some
+strange fascination for women, some mastery over them which compelled
+them to his will. Again and again he had brought ruin to a household,
+again and again his adroit tongue and his cunning wit had in some
+fashion saved him from the punishment of his deeds. His family was great
+in the county, and his kinsmen held favor with the King, so that his
+neighbors feared to push things too far against him. Such was the man,
+malignant and ravenous, who had stooped like some foul night-hawk and
+borne away to his evil nest the golden beauty of Cosford. Nigel said
+little as he listened, but he raised his hunting-dagger to his tightened
+lips, and thrice he kissed the cross of its handle.
+
+They had passed over the moors and through the village of Milford and
+the little township of Godalming, until their path turned southward over
+the Pease marsh and crossed the meadows of Shalford. There on the dark
+hillside glowed the red points of light which marked the windows of the
+house which they sought. A somber arched avenue of oak-trees led up to
+it, and then they were in the moon-silvered clearing in front.
+
+From the shadow of the arched door there sprang two rough serving-men,
+bearded and gruff, great cudgels in their hands, to ask them who they
+were and what their errand. The Lady Mary had slipped from her horse and
+was advancing to the door, but they rudely barred her way.
+
+"Nay, nay, our master needs no more!" cried one, with a hoarse laugh.
+"Stand back, mistress, whoever you be! The house is shut, and our lord
+sees no guests to-night."
+
+"Fellow," said Nigel, speaking low and clear, "stand back from us! Our
+errand is with your master."
+
+"Bethink you, my children," cried the old priest, "would it not be best
+perchance, that I go in to him and see whether the voice of the Church
+may not soften this hard heart? I fear bloodshed if you enter."
+
+"Nay, father, I pray you to stay here for the nonce," said Nigel. "And
+you, Mary, do you bide with the good priest, for we know not what may be
+within."
+
+Again he turned to the door, and again the two men barred his passage.
+
+"Stand back, I say, back for your lives!" said Nigel. "By Saint Paul! I
+should think it shame to soil my sword with such as you, but my soul is
+set, and no man shall bar my path this night."
+
+The men shrank from the deadly menace of that gentle voice.
+
+"Hold!" said one of them, peering through the darkness, "is it not
+Squire Loring of Tilford?"
+
+"That is indeed my name."
+
+"Had you spoken it I for one would not have stopped your way. Put down
+your staff, Wat, for this is no stranger, but the Squire of Tilford."
+
+"As well for him," grumbled the other, lowering his cudgel with an
+inward prayer of thanksgiving. "Had it been otherwise I should have had
+blood upon my soul to-night. But our master said nothing of neighbors
+when he ordered us to hold the door. I will enter and ask him what is
+his will."
+
+But already Nigel was past them and had pushed open the outer door.
+Swift as he was, the Lady Mary was at his very heels, and the two passed
+together into the hall beyond.
+
+It was a great room, draped and curtained with black shadows, with one
+vivid circle of light in the center, where two oil lamps shone upon a
+small table. A meal was laid upon the table, but only two were seated at
+it, and there were no servants in the room. At the near end was Edith,
+her golden hair loose and streaming down over the scarlet and black of
+her riding-dress.
+
+At the farther end the light beat strongly upon the harsh face and the
+high-drawn misshapen shoulders of the lord of the house. A tangle
+of black hair surmounted a high rounded forehead, the forehead of a
+thinker, with two deep-set cold gray eyes twinkling sharply from under
+tufted brows. His nose was curved and sharp, like the beak of some cruel
+bird, but below the whole of his clean-shaven powerful face was marred
+by the loose slabbing mouth and the round folds of the heavy chin.
+His knife in one hand and a half-gnawed bone in the other, he looked
+fiercely up, like some beast disturbed in his den, as the two intruders
+broke in upon his hall.
+
+Nigel stopped midway between the door and the table. His eyes and those
+of Paul de la Fosse were riveted upon each other. But Mary, with her
+woman's soul flooded over with love and pity, had rushed forward and
+cast her arms round her younger sister. Edith had sprung up from her
+chair, and with averted face tried to push the other away from her.
+
+"Edith, Edith! By the Virgin, I implore you to come back with us, and
+to leave this wicked man!" cried Mary. "Dear sister, you would not break
+our father's heart, nor bring his gray head in dishonor to the grave!
+Come back Edith, come back and all is well."
+
+But Edith pushed her away, and her fair cheeks were flushed with her
+anger. "What right have you over me, Mary, you who are but two years
+older, that you should follow me over the country-side as though I were
+a runagate villain and you my mistress? Do you yourself go back, and
+leave me to do that which seems best in my own eyes."
+
+But Mary still held her in her arms, and still strove to soften the hard
+and angry heart. "Our mother is dead, Edith. I thank God that she died
+ere she saw you under this roof! But I stand for her, as I have done all
+my life, since I am indeed your elder. It is with her voice that I beg
+and pray you that you will not trust this man further, and that you will
+come back ere it be too late!"
+
+Edith writhed from her grasp, and stood flushed and defiant, with
+gleaming, angry eyes fixed upon her sister. "You may speak evil of him
+now," said she, "but there was a time when Paul de la Fosse came to
+Cosford, and who so gentle and soft-spoken to him then as wise, grave,
+sister Mary? But he has learned to love another; so now he is the wicked
+man, and it is shame to be seen under his roof! From what I see of my
+good pious sister and her cavalier it is sin for another to ride at
+night with a man at your side, but it comes easy enough to you. Look
+at your own eye, good sister, ere you would take the speck from that of
+another."
+
+Mary stood irresolute and greatly troubled, holding down her pride
+and her anger, but uncertain how best to deal with this strong wayward
+spirit.
+
+"It is not a time for bitter words, dear sister," said she, and again
+she laid her hand upon her sister's sleeve. "All that you say may be
+true. There was indeed a time when this man was friend to us both, and I
+know even as you do the power which he may have to win a woman's heart.
+But I know him now, and you do not. I know the evil that he has wrought,
+the dishonor that he has brought, the perjury that lies upon his soul,
+the confidence betrayed, the promise unfulfilled--all this I know. Am I
+to see my own sister caught in the same well-used trap? Has it shut
+upon you, child? Am I indeed already too late? For God's sake, tell me,
+Edith, that it is not so?"
+
+Edith plucked her sleeve from her sister and made two swift steps to the
+head of the table. Paul de la Fosse still sat silent with his eyes upon
+Nigel. Edith laid her hand upon his shoulder: "This is the man I love,
+and the only man that I have ever loved. This is my husband," said she.
+
+At the word Mary gave a cry of joy.
+
+"And is it so?" she cried. "Nay, then all is in honor, and God will see
+to the rest. If you are man and wife before the altar, then indeed why
+should I, or any other, stand between you? Tell me that it is indeed so,
+and I return this moment to make your father a happy man."
+
+Edith pouted like a naughty child. "We are man and wife in the eyes of
+God. Soon also we shall be wedded before all the world. We do but wait
+until next Monday when Paul's brother, who is a priest at St. Albans,
+will come to wed us. Already a messenger has sped for him, and he will
+come, will he not, dear love?"
+
+"He will come," said the master of Shalford, still with his eyes fixed
+upon the silent Nigel.
+
+"It is a lie; he will not come," said a voice from the door.
+
+It was the old priest, who had followed the others as far as the
+threshold.
+
+"He will not come," he repeated as he advanced into the room. "Daughter,
+my daughter, hearken to the words of one who is indeed old enough to be
+your earthly father. This lie has served before. He has ruined others
+before you with it. The man has no brother at Saint Albans. I know his
+brothers well, and there is no priest among them. Before Monday, when
+it is all too late, you will have found the truth as others have done
+before you. Trust him not, but come with us!"
+
+Paul de la Fosse looked up at her with a quick smile and patted the hand
+upon his shoulder.
+
+"Do you speak to them, Edith," said he.
+
+Her eyes flashed with scorn as she surveyed them each in turn, the
+woman, the youth and the priest.
+
+"I have but one word to say to them," said she. "It is that they go
+hence and trouble us no more. Am I not a free woman? Have I not said
+that this is the only man I ever loved? I have loved him long. He did
+not know it, and in despair he turned to another. Now he knows all and
+never again can doubt come between us. Therefore I will stay here at
+Shalford and come to Cosford no more save upon the arm of my husband.
+Am I so weak that I would believe the tales you tell against him? Is it
+hard for a jealous woman and a wandering priest to agree upon a lie? No,
+no, Mary, you can go hence and take your cavalier and your priest with
+you, for here I stay, true to my love and safe in my trust upon his
+honor!"
+
+"Well spoken, on my faith, my golden bird!" said the little master of
+Shalford. "Let me add my own word to that which has been said. You would
+not grant me any virtue in your unkindly speech, good Lady Mary, and
+yet you must needs confess that at least I have good store of patience,
+since I have not set my dogs upon your friends who have come between me
+and my ease. But even to the most virtuous there comes at last a time
+when poor human frailty may prevail, and so I pray you to remove both
+yourself, your priest and your valiant knight errant, lest perhaps there
+be more haste and less dignity when at last you do take your leave.
+Sit down, my fair love, and let us turn once more to our supper." He
+motioned her to her chair, and he filled her wine-cup as well as his
+own.
+
+Nigel had said no word since he had entered the room, but his look had
+never lost its set purpose, nor had his brooding eyes ever wandered from
+the sneering face of the deformed master of Shalford. Now he turned with
+swift decision to Mary and to the priest.
+
+"That is over," said he in a low voice. "You have done all that you
+could, and now it is for me to play my part as well as I am able. I pray
+you, Mary, and you, good father, that you will await me outside."
+
+"Nay, Nigel, if there is danger--"
+
+"It is easier for me, Mary, if you are not there. I pray you to go. I
+can speak to this man more at my ease."
+
+She looked at him with questioning eyes and then obeyed.
+
+Nigel plucked at the priest's gown.
+
+"I pray you, father, have you your book of offices with you?"
+
+"Surely, Nigel, it is ever in my breast."
+
+"Have it ready, father!"
+
+"For what, my son?"
+
+"There are two places you may mark; there is the service of marriage and
+there is the prayer for the dying. Go with her, father, and be ready at
+my call."
+
+He closed the door behind them and was alone with this ill-matched
+couple. They both turned in their chairs to look at him, Edith with a
+defiant face, the man with a bitter smile upon his lips and malignant
+hatred in his eyes.
+
+"What," said he, "the knight errant still lingers? Have we not heard of
+his thirst for glory? What new venture does he see that he should tarry
+here?"
+
+Nigel walked to the table.
+
+"There is no glory and little venture," said he; "but I have come for
+a purpose and I must do it. I learn from your own lips, Edith, that you
+will not leave this man."
+
+"If you have ears you have heard it."
+
+"You are, as you have said, a free woman, and who can gainsay you? But
+I have known you, Edith, since we played as boy and girl on the
+heather-hills together. I will save you from this man's cunning and from
+your own foolish weakness."
+
+"What would you do?"
+
+"There is a priest without. He will marry you now. I will see you
+married ere I leave this hall."
+
+"Or else?" sneered the man.
+
+"Or else you never leave this hall alive. Nay, call not for your
+servants or your dogs! By Saint Paul! I swear to you that this matter
+lies between us three, and that if any fourth comes at your call you,
+at least, shall never live to see what comes of it! Speak then, Paul of
+Shalford! Will you wed this woman now, or will you not?"
+
+Edith was on her feet with outstretched arms between them. "Stand back,
+Nigel! He is small and weak. You would not do him a hurt! Did you not
+say so this very day? For God's sake, Nigel, do not look at him so!
+There is death in your eyes."
+
+"A snake may be small and weak, Edith, yet every honest man would place
+his heel upon it. Do you stand back yourself, for my purpose is set."
+
+"Paul!" she turned her eyes to the pale sneering face. "Bethink you,
+Paul! Why should you not do what he asks? What matter to you whether it
+be now or on Monday? I pray you, dear Paul, for my sake let him have his
+way! Your brother can read the service again if it so please him. Let us
+wed now, Paul, and then all is well."
+
+He had risen from his chair, and he dashed aside her appealing hands.
+"You foolish woman," he snarled, "and you, my savior of fair damsels,
+who are so bold against a <DW36>, you have both to learn that if my
+body be weak there is the soul of my breed within it! To marry because
+a boasting, ranting, country Squire would have me do so--no, by the soul
+of God, I will die first! On Monday I will marry, and no day sooner, so
+let that be your answer."
+
+"It is the answer that I wished," said Nigel, "for indeed I see no
+happiness in this marriage, and the other may well be the better way.
+Stand aside, Edith!" He gently forced her to one side and drew his
+sword.
+
+De la Fosse cried aloud at the sight. "I have no sword. You would not
+murder me?" said he, leaning back with haggard-face and burning eyes
+against his chair. The bright steel shone in the lamp-light. Edith
+shrank back, her hand over her face.
+
+"Take this sword!" said Nigel, and he turned the hilt to the <DW36>.
+"Now!" he added, as he drew his hunting knife. "Kill me if you can, Paul
+de la Fosse, for as God is my help I will do as much for you!"
+
+The woman, half swooning and yet spellbound and fascinated, looked on
+at that strange combat. For a moment the <DW36> stood with an air of
+doubt, the sword grasped in his nerveless fingers. Then as he saw the
+tiny blade in Nigel's hand the greatness of the advantage came home to
+him, and a cruel smile tightened his loose lips. Slowly, step by step he
+advanced, his chin sunk upon his chest, his eyes glaring from under the
+thick tangle of his brows like fires through the brushwood. Nigel waited
+for him, his left hand forward, his knife down by his hip, his face
+grave, still and watchful.
+
+Nearer and nearer yet, with stealthy step, and then with a bound and a
+cry of hatred and rage Paul de la Fosse had sped his blow. It was well
+judged and well swung, but point would have been wiser than edge against
+that supple body and those active feet. Quick as a flash, Nigel had
+sprung inside the sweep of the blade, taking a flesh wound on his left
+forearm, as he pressed it under the hilt. The next instant the <DW36>
+was on the ground and Nigel's dagger was at his throat.
+
+"You dog!" he whispered. "I have you at my mercy! Quick ere I strike,
+and for the last time! Will you marry or no?"
+
+The crash of the fall and the sharp point upon his throat had cowed the
+man's spirit. He looked up with a white face and the sweat gleamed upon
+his forehead. There was terror in his eyes.
+
+"Nay, take your knife from me!" he cried. "I cannot die like a calf in
+the shambles."
+
+"Will you marry?"
+
+"Yes, yes, I will wed her! After all she is a good wench and I might
+do worse. Let me up! I tell you I will marry her! What more would you
+have?"
+
+Nigel stood above him with his foot upon his misshapen body. He had
+picked up his sword, and the point rested upon the <DW36>'s breast.
+
+"Nay, you will bide where you are! If you are to live--and my conscience
+cries loud against it--at least your wedding will be such as your sins
+have deserved. Lie there, like the crushed worm that you are!" Then
+he raised his voice. "Father Athanasius!" he cried. "What ho! Father
+Athanasius!"
+
+The old priest ran to the cry, and so did the Lady Mary. A strange sight
+it was that met them now in the circle of light, the frightened girl,
+half-unconscious against the table, the prostrate <DW36>, and Nigel
+with foot and sword upon his body.
+
+"Your book, father!" cried Nigel. "I know not if what we do is good or
+ill; but we must wed them, for there is no way out."
+
+But the girl by the table had given a great cry, and she was clinging
+and sobbing with her arms round her sister's neck.
+
+"Oh, Mary, I thank the Virgin that you have come! I thank the Virgin
+that it is not too late! What did he say? He said that he was a de la
+Fosse and that he would not be married at the sword-point. My heart went
+out to him when he said it. But I, am I not a Buttesthorn, and shall it
+be said that I would marry a man who could be led to the altar with a
+knife at his throat? No, no, I see him as he is! I know him now, the
+mean spirit, the lying tongue! Can I not read in his eyes that he has
+indeed deceived me, that he would have left me as you say that he has
+left others? Take me home, Mary, my sister, for you have plucked me back
+this night from the very mouth of Hell!"
+
+And so it was that the master of Shalford, livid and brooding, was left
+with his wine at his lonely table, while the golden beauty of Cosford,
+hot with shame and anger, her fair face wet with tears, passed out safe
+from the house of infamy into the great calm and peace of the starry
+night.
+
+
+
+
+XIII. HOW THE COMRADES JOURNEYED DOWN THE OLD, OLD ROAD
+
+
+And now the season of the moonless nights was drawing nigh and the
+King's design was ripe. Very secretly his preparations were made.
+Already the garrison of Calais, which consisted of five hundred archers
+and two hundred men-at-arms, could, if forewarned, resist any attack
+made upon it. But it was the King's design not merely to resist the
+attack, but to capture the attackers. Above all it was his wish to find
+the occasion for one of those adventurous passages of arms which had
+made his name famous throughout Christendom as the very pattern and
+leader of knight-errant chivalry.
+
+But the affair wanted careful handling. The arrival of any,
+reinforcements, or even the crossing of any famous soldier, would have
+alarmed the French and warned them that their plot had been discovered.
+Therefore it was in twos and threes in the creyers and provision ships
+which were continually passing from shore to shore that the chosen
+warriors and their squires were brought to Calais. There they were
+passed at night through the water-gate into the castle where they could
+lie hidden, unknown to the townsfolk, until the hour for action had
+come.
+
+Nigel had received word from Chandos to join him at "The Sign of the
+Broom-Pod" in Winchelsea. Three days beforehand he and Aylward rode from
+Tilford all armed and ready for the wars. Nigel was in hunting-costume,
+blithe and gay, with his precious armor and his small baggage trussed
+upon the back of a spare horse which Aylward led by the bridle. The
+archer had himself a good black mare, heavy and slow, but strong enough
+to be fit to carry his powerful frame. In his brigandine of chain mail
+and his steel cap, with straight strong sword by his side, his yellow
+long-bow jutting over his shoulder, and his quiver of arrows supported
+by a scarlet baldric, he was such a warrior as any knight might well
+be proud to have in his train. All Tilford trailed behind them, as they
+rode slowly over the long <DW72> of heath land which skirts the flank of
+Crooksbury Hill.
+
+At the summit of the rise Nigel reined in Pommers and looked back at the
+little village behind him. There was the old dark manor house, with one
+bent figure leaning upon a stick and gazing dimly after him from beside
+the door. He looked at the high-pitched roof, the timbered walls, the
+long trail of swirling blue smoke which rose from the single chimney,
+and the group of downcast old servants who lingered at the gate, John
+the cook, Weathercote the minstrel, and Red Swire the broken soldier.
+Over the river amid the trees he could see the grim, gray tower of
+Waverley, and even as he looked, the iron bell, which had so often
+seemed to be the hoarse threatening cry of an enemy, clanged out its
+call to prayer. Nigel doffed his velvet cap and prayed also--prayed that
+peace might remain at home, and good warfare, in which honor and fame
+should await him, might still be found abroad. Then, waving his hand
+to the people, he turned his horse's head and rode slowly eastward. A
+moment later Aylward broke from the group of archers and laughing girls
+who clung to his bridle and his stirrup straps, and rode on, blowing
+kisses over his shoulder. So at last the two comrades, gentle and
+simple, were fairly started on their venture.
+
+There are two seasons of color in those parts: the yellow, when the
+country-side is flaming with the gorse-blossoms, and the crimson, when
+all the long <DW72>s are smoldering with the heather. So it was now.
+Nigel looked back from time to time, as he rode along the narrow track
+where the ferns and the ling brushed his feet on either side, and as he
+looked it seemed to him that wander where he might he would never see a
+fairer scene than that of his own home. Far to the westward, glowing
+in the morning light, rolled billow after billow of ruddy heather land,
+until they merged into the dark shadows of Woolmer Forest and the pale
+clear green of the Butser chalk downs. Never in his life had Nigel
+wandered far beyond these limits, and the woodlands, the down and the
+heather were dear to his soul. It gave him a pang in his heart now as
+he turned his face away from them; but if home lay to the westward, out
+there to the eastward was the great world of adventure, the noble stage
+where each of his kinsmen in turn had played his manly part and left a
+proud name behind.
+
+How often he had longed for this day! And now it had come with no shadow
+cast behind it. Dame Ermyntrude was under the King's protection. The old
+servants had their future assured. The strife with the monks of Waverley
+had been assuaged. He had a noble horse under him, the best of weapons,
+and a stout follower at his back. Above all he was bound on a gallant
+errand with the bravest knight in England as his leader. All these
+thoughts surged together in his mind, and he whistled and sang, as he
+rode, out of the joy of his heart, while Pommers sidled and curveted in
+sympathy with the mood of his master. Presently, glancing back, he
+saw from Aylward's downcast eyes and Puckered brow that the archer was
+clouded with trouble. He reined his horse to let him come abreast of
+him.
+
+"How now, Aylward?" said he. "Surely of all men in England you and I
+should be the most blithe this morning, since we ride forward with all
+hopes of honorable advancement. By Saint Paul! ere we see these heather
+hills once more we shall either worshipfully win worship, or we shall
+venture our persons in the attempt. These be glad thoughts, and why
+should you be downcast?"
+
+Aylward shrugged his broad shoulders, and a wry smile dawned upon his
+rugged face. "I am indeed as limp as a wetted bowstring," said he. "It
+is the nature of a man that he should be sad when he leaves the woman he
+loves."
+
+"In truth, yes!" cried Nigel, and in a flash the dark eyes of Mary
+Buttesthorn rose before him, and he heard her low, sweet, earnest voice
+as he had heard it that night when they brought her frailer sister back
+from Shalford Manor, a voice which made all that was best and noblest
+in a man thrill within his soul. "Yet, bethink you, archer, that what
+a woman loves in man is not his gross body, but rather his soul, his
+honor, his fame, the deeds with which he has made his life beautiful.
+Therefore you are winning love as well as glory when you turn to the
+wars."
+
+"It may be so," said Aylward; "but indeed it goes to my heart to see the
+pretty dears weep, and I would fain weep as well to keep them company.
+When Mary--or was it Dolly?--nay, it was Martha, the red-headed girl
+from the mill--when she held tight to my baldric it was like snapping my
+heart-string to pluck myself loose."
+
+"You speak of one name and then of another," said Nigel. "How is she
+called then, this maid whom you love?"
+
+Aylward pushed back his steel cap and scratched his bristling head with
+some embarrassment. "Her name," said he, "is Mary Dolly Martha Susan
+Jane Cicely Theodosia Agnes Johanna Kate."
+
+Nigel laughed as Aylward rolled out this prodigious title. "I had no
+right to take you to the wars," said he; "for by Saint Paul! it is very
+clear that I have widowed half the parish. But I saw your aged father
+the franklin. Bethink you of the joy that will fill his heart when he
+hears that you have done some small deed in France, and so won honor in
+the eyes of all."
+
+"I fear that honor will not help him to pay his arrears of rent to the
+sacrist of Waverley," said Aylward. "Out he will go on the roadside,
+honor and all, if he does not find ten nobles by next Epiphany. But if I
+could win a ransom or be at the storming of a rich city, then indeed the
+old man would be proud of me. 'Thy sword must help my spade, Samkin,'
+said he as he kissed me goodby. Ah! it would indeed be a happy day for
+him and for all if I could ride back with a saddle-bag full of gold
+pieces, and please God, I shall dip my hand in somebody's pocket before
+I see Crooksbury Hill once more!"
+
+Nigel shook his head, for indeed it seemed hopeless to try to bridge the
+gulf between them. Already they had made such good progress along the
+bridle-path through the heather that the little hill of Saint Catharine
+and the ancient shrine upon its summit loomed up before them. Here
+they crossed the road from the south to London, and at the crossing
+two wayfarers were waiting who waved their hands in greeting, the one
+a tall, slender, dark woman upon a white jennet, the other a very thick
+and red-faced old man, whose weight seemed to curve the back of the
+stout gray cob which he bestrode.
+
+"What how, Nigel!" he cried. "Mary has told me that you make a start
+this morning, and we have waited here this hour and more on the chance
+of seeing you pass. Come, lad, and have a last stoup of English ale, for
+many a time amid the sour French wines you will long for the white foam
+under your nose, and the good homely twang of it."
+
+Nigel had to decline the draft, for it meant riding into Guildford town,
+a mile out of his course, but very gladly he agreed with Mary that
+they should climb the path to the old shrine and offer a last orison
+together. The knight and Aylward waited below with the horses; and so it
+came about that Nigel and Mary found themselves alone under the solemn
+old Gothic arches, in front of the dark shadowed recess in which gleamed
+the golden reliquary of the saint. In silence they knelt side by side
+in prayer, and then came forth once more out of the gloom and the shadow
+into the fresh sunlit summer morning. They stopped ere they descended
+the path, and looked to right and left at the fair meadows and the blue
+Wey curling down the valley.
+
+"What have you prayed for, Nigel?" said she.
+
+"I have prayed that God and His saints will hold my spirit high and will
+send me back from France in such a fashion that I may dare to come to
+you and to claim you for my own."
+
+"Bethink you well what it is that you say, Nigel," said she. "What you
+are to me only my own heart can tell; but I would never set eyes upon
+your face again rather than abate by one inch that height of honor and
+worshipful achievement to which you may attain."
+
+"Nay, my dear and most sweet lady, how should you abate it, since it is
+the thought of you which will nerve my arm and uphold my heart?"
+
+"Think once more, my fair lord, and hold yourself bound by no word which
+you have said. Let it be as the breeze which blows past our faces and
+is heard of no more. Your soul yearns for honor. To that has it ever
+turned. Is there room in it for love also? or is it possible that both
+shall live at their highest in one mind? Do you not call to mind that
+Galahad and other great knights of old have put women out of their lives
+that they might ever give their whole soul and strength to the winning
+of honor? May it not be that I shall be a drag upon you, that your heart
+may shrink from some honorable task, lest it should bring risk and pain
+to me? Think well before you answer, my fair lord, for indeed my very
+heart would break if it should ever happen that through love of me your
+high hopes and great promise should miss fulfilment."
+
+Nigel looked at her with sparkling eyes. The soul which shone through
+her dark face had transformed it for the moment into a beauty more
+lofty and more rare than that of her shallow sister. He bowed before the
+majesty of the woman, and pressed his lips to her hand. "You are like
+a star upon my path which guides me on the upward way," said he. "Our
+souls are set together upon the finding of honor, and how shall we hold
+each other back when our purpose is the same?"
+
+She shook her proud head. "So it seems to you now, fair lord, but it may
+be otherwise as the years pass. How shall you prove that I am indeed a
+help and not a hindrance?"
+
+"I will prove it by my deeds, fair and dear lady," said Nigel. "Here at
+the shrine of the holy Catharine, on this, the Feast of Saint Margaret,
+I take my oath that I will do three deeds in your honor as a proof of my
+high love before I set eyes upon your face again, and these three deeds
+shall stand as a proof to you that if I love you dearly, still I will
+not let the thought of you stand betwixt me and honorable achievement!"
+
+Her face shone with her love and her pride. "I also make my oath," said
+she, "and I do it in the name of the holy Catharine whose shrine is hard
+by. I swear that I will hold myself for you until these three deeds be
+done and we meet once more; also that if--which may dear Christ forfend!
+you fall in doing them then I shall take the veil in Shalford nunnery
+and look upon no man's face again! Give me your hand, Nigel."
+
+She had taken a little bangle of gold filigree work from her arm and
+fastened it upon his sunburnt wrist, reading aloud to him the engraved
+motto in old French: "Fais ce que dois, adviegne que pourra--c'est
+commande au chevalier." Then for one moment they fell into each other's
+arms and with kiss upon kiss, a loving man and a tender woman, they
+swore their troth to each other. But the old knight was calling
+impatiently from below and together they hurried down the winding path
+to where the horses waited under the sandy bluff.
+
+As far as the Shalford crossing Sir John rode by Nigel's arm, and many
+were the last injunctions which he gave him concerning woodcraft, and
+great his anxiety lest he confuse a spay with a brocket, or either with
+a hind. At last when they came to the reedy edge of the Wey the old
+knight and his daughter reined up their horses. Nigel looked back at
+them ere he entered the dark Chantry woods, and saw them still gazing
+after him and waving their hands. Then the path wound amongst the trees
+and they were lost to sight; but long afterwards when a clearing exposed
+once more the Shalford meadows Nigel saw that the old man upon the gray
+cob was riding slowly toward Saint Catharine's Hill, but that the girl
+was still where he had seen her last, leaning forward in her saddle and
+straining her eyes to pierce the dark forest which screened her lover
+from her view. It was but a fleeting glance through a break in the
+foliage, and yet in after days of stress and toil in far distant lands
+it was that one little picture--the green meadow, the reeds, the slow
+blue-winding river, and the eager bending graceful figure upon the white
+horse--which was the clearest and the dearest image of that England
+which he had left behind him.
+
+But if Nigel's friends had learned that this was the morning of his
+leaving, his enemies too were on the alert. The two comrades had just
+emerged from the Chantry woods and were beginning the ascent of that
+curving path which leads upward to the old Chapel of the Martyr when
+with a hiss like an angry snake a long white arrow streaked under
+Pommers and struck quivering in the grassy turf. A second whizzed past
+Nigel's ear, as he tried to turn; but Aylward struck the great war-horse
+a sharp blow over the haunches, and it had galloped some hundreds of
+yards before its rider could pull it up. Aylward followed as hard as he
+could ride, bending low over his horse's neck, while arrows whizzed all
+around him.
+
+"By Saint Paul!" said Nigel, tugging at his bridle and white with anger,
+"they shall not chase me across the country as though I was a frighted
+doe. Archer, how dare you to lash my horse when I would have turned and
+ridden in upon them?"
+
+"It is well that I did so," said Aylward, "or by these ten finger-bones!
+our journey would have begun and ended on the same day. As I glanced
+round I saw a dozen of them at the least amongst the brushwood. See now
+how the light glimmers upon their steel caps yonder in the bracken
+under the great beech-tree. Nay, I pray you, my fair lord, do not ride
+forward. What chance has a man in the open against all these who lie
+at their ease in the underwood? If you will not think of yourself, then
+consider your horse, which would have a cloth-yard shaft feathered in
+its hide ere it could reach the wood."
+
+Nigel chafed in impotent anger. "Am I to be shot at like a popinjay at a
+fair, by any reaver or outlaw that seeks a mark for his bow?" he cried.
+"By Saint Paul! Aylward, I will put on my harness and go further into
+the matter. Help me to untruss, I pray you!"
+
+"Nay, my fair lord, I will not help you to your own downfall. It is a
+match with cogged dice betwixt a horseman on the moor and archers amid
+the forest. But these men are no outlaws, or they would not dare to draw
+their bows within a league of the sheriff of Guildford."
+
+"Indeed, Aylward, I think that you speak truth," said Nigel. "It may
+be that these are the men of Paul de la Fosse of Shalford, whom I
+have given little cause to love me. Ah! there is indeed the very man
+himself."
+
+They sat their horses with their backs to the long <DW72> which leads up
+to the old chapel on the hill. In front of them was the dark ragged edge
+of the wood, with a sharp twinkle of steel here and there in its shadows
+which spoke of these lurking foes. But now there was a long moot upon
+a horn, and at once a score of russet-clad bowmen ran forward from amid
+the trees, spreading out into a scattered line and closing swiftly in
+upon the travelers. In the midst of them, upon a great gray horse, sat a
+small misshapen man, waving and cheering as one sets hounds on a badger,
+turning his head this way and that as he whooped and pointed, urging his
+bowmen onward up the <DW72>.
+
+"Draw them on, my fair lord! Draw them on until we have them out on the
+down!" cried Aylward, his eyes shining with joy. "Five hundred paces
+more, and then we may be on terms with them. Nay, linger not, but keep
+them always just clear of arrowshot until our turn has come."
+
+Nigel shook and trembled with eagerness, as with his hand on his
+sword-hilt he looked at the line of eager hurrying men. But it flashed
+through his mind what Chandos had said of the cool head which is better
+for the warrior than the hot heart. Aylward's words were true and wise.
+He turned Pommers' head therefore, and amid a cry of derision from
+behind them the comrades trotted over the down. The bowmen broke into
+a run, while their leader screamed and waved more madly than before.
+Aylward cast many a glance at them over his shoulder.
+
+"Yet a little farther! Yet a little farther still!" he muttered. "The
+wind is towards them and the fools have forgot that I can overshoot them
+by fifty paces. Now, my good lord, I pray you for one instant to hold
+the horses, for my weapon is of more avail this day, than thine can be.
+They may make sorry cheer ere they gain the shelter of the wood once
+more."
+
+He had sprung from his horse, and with a downward wrench of his arm and
+a push with his knee he slipped the string into the upper nock of his
+mighty war-bow. Then in a flash he notched his shaft and drew it to
+the pile, his keen blue eyes glowing fiercely behind it from under his
+knotted brows. With thick legs planted sturdily apart, his body laid
+to the bow, his left arm motionless as wood, his right bunched into a
+double curve of swelling muscles as he stretched the white well-waxed
+string, he looked so keen and fierce a fighter that the advancing line
+stopped for an instant at the sight of him. Two or three loosed off
+their arrows, but the shafts flew heavily against the head wind, and
+snaked along the hard turf some score of paces short of the mark. One
+only, a short bandy-legged man, whose squat figure spoke of enormous
+muscular strength, ran swiftly in and then drew so strong a bow that the
+arrow quivered in the ground at Aylward's very feet.
+
+"It is Black Will of Lynchmere," said the bowman. "Many a match have I
+shot with him, and I know well that no other man on the Surrey marches
+could have sped such a shaft. I trust that you are houseled and shriven,
+Will, for I have known you so long that I would not have your damnation
+upon my soul."
+
+He raised his bow as he spoke, and the string twanged with a rich deep
+musical note. Aylward leaned upon his bow-stave as he keenly watched the
+long swift flight of his shaft, skimming smoothly down the wind.
+
+"On him, on him! No, over him, by my hilt!" he cried. "There is more
+wind than I had thought. Nay, nay, friend, now that I have the length of
+you, you can scarce hope to loose again."
+
+Black Will had notched an arrow and was raising his bow when Aylward's
+second shaft passed through the shoulder of his drawing arm. With a
+shout of anger and pain he dropped his weapon, and dancing in his fury
+he shook his fist and roared curses at his rival.
+
+"I could slay him; but I will not, for good bowmen are not so common,"
+said Aylward. "And now, fair sir, we must on, for they are spreading
+round on either side, and if once they get behind us, then indeed our
+journey has come to a sudden end. But ere we go I would send a shaft
+through yonder horseman who leads them on."
+
+"Nay, Aylward, I pray you to leave him," said Nigel. "Villain as he is,
+he is none the less a gentleman of coat-armor, and should die by some
+other weapon than thine."
+
+"As you will," said Aylward, with a clouded brow. "I have been told that
+in the late wars many a French prince and baron has not been too proud
+to take his death wound from an English yeoman's shaft, and that nobles
+of England have been glad enough to stand by and see it done."
+
+Nigel shook his head sadly. "It is sooth you say, archer, and indeed it
+is no new thing, for that good knight Richard of the Lion Heart met his
+end in such a lowly fashion, and so also did Harold the Saxon. But this
+is a private matter, and I would not have you draw your bow against
+him. Neither can I ride at him myself, for he is weak in body, though
+dangerous in spirit. Therefore, we will go upon our way, since there is
+neither profit nor honor to be gained, nor any hope of advancement."
+
+Aylward, having unstrung his bow, had remounted his horse during this
+conversation, and the two rode swiftly past the little squat Chapel of
+the Martyr and over the brow of the hill. From the summit they looked
+back. The injured archer lay upon the ground, with several of his
+comrades gathered in a knot around him. Others ran aimlessly up the
+hill, but were already far behind. The leader sat motionless upon his
+horse, and as he saw them look back he raised his hand and shrieked his
+curses at them. An instant later the curve of the ground had hid them
+from view. So, amid love and hate, Nigel bade adieu to the home of his
+youth.
+
+And now the comrades were journeying upon that old, old road which runs
+across the south of England and yet never turns toward London, for the
+good reason that the place was a poor hamlet when first the road was
+laid. From Winchester, the Saxon capital, to Canterbury, the holy city
+of Kent, ran that ancient highway, and on from Canterbury to the narrow
+straits where, on a clear day, the farther shore can be seen. Along this
+track as far back as history can trace the metals of the west have been
+carried and passed the pack-horses which bore the goods which Gaul sent
+in exchange. Older than the Christian faith and older than the Romans,
+is the old road. North and south are the woods and the marshes, so
+that only on the high dry turf of the chalk land could a clear track be
+found. The Pilgrim's Way, it still is called; but the pilgrims were the
+last who ever trod it, for it was already of immemorial age before the
+death of Thomas a Becket gave a new reason why folk should journey to
+the scene of his murder.
+
+From the hill of Weston Wood the travelers could see the long white band
+which dipped and curved and rose over the green downland, its course
+marked even in the hollows by the line of the old yew-trees which
+flanked it. Neither Nigel nor Aylward had wandered far from their own
+country, and now they rode with light hearts and eager eyes taking note
+of all the varied pictures of nature and of man which passed before
+them. To their left was a hilly country, a land of rolling heaths and
+woods, broken here and there into open spaces round the occasional
+farm-house of a franklin. Hackhurst Down, Dunley Hill, and Ranmore
+Common swelled and sank, each merging into the other. But on the right,
+after passing the village of Shere and the old church of Gomshall, the
+whole south country lay like a map at their feet. There was the huge
+wood of the Weald, one unbroken forest of oak-trees stretching away to
+the South Downs, which rose olive-green against the deep blue sky. Under
+this great canopy of trees strange folk lived and evil deeds were done.
+In its recesses were wild tribes, little changed from their heathen
+ancestors, who danced round the altar of Thor, and well was it for the
+peaceful traveler that he could tread the high open road of the chalk
+land with no need to wander into so dangerous a tract, where soft clay,
+tangled forest and wild men all barred his progress.
+
+But apart from the rolling country upon the left and the great
+forest-hidden plain upon the right, there was much upon the road itself
+to engage the attention of the wayfarers. It was crowded with people.
+As far as their eyes could carry they could see the black dots scattered
+thickly upon the thin white band, sometimes single, sometimes several
+abreast, sometimes in moving crowds, where a drove of pilgrims held
+together for mutual protection, or a nobleman showed his greatness by
+the number of retainers who trailed at his heels. At that time the main
+roads were very crowded, for there were many wandering people in the
+land. Of all sorts and kinds, they passed in an unbroken stream before
+the eyes of Nigel and of Aylward, alike only in the fact that one and
+all were powdered from their hair to their shoes with the gray dust of
+the chalk.
+
+There were monks journeying from one cell to another, Benedictines with
+their black gowns looped up to show their white skirts, Carthusians
+in white, and pied Cistercians. Friars also of the three wandering
+orders--Dominicans in black, Carmelites in white and Franciscans in
+gray. There was no love lost between the cloistered monks and the free
+friars, each looking on the other as a rival who took from him the
+oblations of the faithful; so they passed on the high road as cat passes
+dog, with eyes askance and angry faces.
+
+Then besides the men of the church there were the men of trade, the
+merchant in dusty broadcloth and Flanders hat riding at the head of
+his line of pack-horses. He carried Cornish tin, Welt-country wool,
+or Sussex iron if he traded eastward, or if his head should be turned
+westward then he bore with him the velvets of Genoa, the ware of Venice,
+the wine of France, or the armor of Italy and Spain. Pilgrims were
+everywhere, poor people for the most part, plodding wearily along with
+trailing feet and bowed heads, thick staves in their hands and bundles
+over their shoulders. Here and there on a gaily caparisoned palfrey, or
+in the greater luxury of a horse-litter, some West-country lady might be
+seen making her easy way to the shrine of Saint Thomas.
+
+Besides all these a constant stream of strange vagabonds drifted along
+the road: minstrels who wandered from fair to fair, a foul and pestilent
+crew; jugglers and acrobats, quack doctors and tooth-drawers, students
+and beggars, free workmen in search of better wages, and escaped
+bondsmen who would welcome any wages at all. Such was the throng which
+set the old road smoking in a haze of white dust from Winchester to the
+narrow sea.
+
+But of all the wayfarers those which interested Nigel most were
+the soldiers. Several times they passed little knots of archers or
+men-at-arms, veterans from France, who had received their discharge and
+were now making their way to their southland homes. They were half drunk
+all of them, for the wayfarers treated them to beer at the frequent
+inns and ale-stakes which lined the road, so that they cheered and sang
+lustily as they passed. They roared rude pleasantries at Aylward, who
+turned in his saddle and shouted his opinion of them until they were out
+of hearing.
+
+Once, late in the afternoon, they overtook a body of a hundred archers
+all marching together with two knights riding at their head. They were
+passing from Guildford Castle to Reigate Castle, where they were in
+garrison. Nigel rode with the knights for some distance, and hinted that
+if either was in search of honorable advancement, or wished to do some
+small deed, or to relieve himself of any vow, it might be possible to
+find some means of achieving it. They were both, however, grave and
+elderly men, intent upon their business and with no mind for fond
+wayside adventures, so Nigel quickened his pace and left them behind.
+
+They had left Boxhill and Headley Heath upon the left, and the towers of
+Reigate were rising amid the trees in front of them, when they overtook
+a large, cheery, red-faced man, with a forked beard, riding upon a good
+horse and exchanging a nod or a merry word with all who passed him. With
+him they rode nearly as far as Bletchingley, and Nigel laughed much to
+hear him talk; but always under the raillery there was much earnestness
+and much wisdom in all his words. He rode at his ease about the country,
+he said, having sufficient money to keep him from want and to furnish
+him for the road. He could speak all the three languages of England, the
+north, the middle and the south, so that he was at home with the people
+of every shire and could hear their troubles and their joys. In all
+parts in town and in country there was unrest, he said; for the poor
+folk were weary of their masters both of the Church and State, and soon
+there would be such doings in England as had never been seen before.
+
+But above all this man was earnest against the Church its enormous
+wealth, its possession of nearly one-third of the whole land of the
+country, its insatiable greed for more at the very time when it claimed
+to be poor and lowly. The monks and friars, too, he lashed with his
+tongue: their roguish ways, their laziness and their cunning. He showed
+how their wealth and that of the haughty lord must always be founded
+upon the toil of poor humble Peter the Plowman, who worked and strove
+in rain and cold out in the fields, the butt and laughing-stock of
+everyone, and still bearing up the whole world upon his weary shoulders.
+He had set it all out in a fair parable; so now as he rode he repeated
+some of the verses, chanting them and marking time with his forefinger,
+while Nigel and Aylward on either side of him with their heads inclined
+inward listened with the same attention, but with very different
+feelings--Nigel shocked at such an attack upon authority, and Aylward
+chuckling as he heard the sentiments of his class so shrewdly expressed.
+At last the stranger halted his horse outside the "Five Angels" at
+Gatton.
+
+"It is a good inn, and I know the ale of old," said he. "When I had
+finished that 'Dream of Piers the Plowman' from which I have recited to
+you, the last verses were thus:
+
+     "'Now have I brought my little booke to an ende
+       God's blessing be on him who a drinke will me sende'--
+
+"I pray you come in with me and share it."
+
+"Nay," said Nigel, "we must on our way, for we have far to go. But
+give me your name, my friend, for indeed we have passed a merry hour
+listening to your words."
+
+"Have a care!" the stranger answered, shaking his head. "You and your
+class will not spend a merry hour when these words are turned into deeds
+and Peter the Plowman grows weary of swinking in the fields and takes up
+his bow and his staff in order to set this land in order."
+
+"By Saint Paul! I expect that we shall bring Peter to reason and also
+those who have put such evil thoughts into his head," said Nigel. "So
+once more I ask your name, that I may know it if ever I chance to hear
+that you have been hanged?"
+
+The stranger laughed good-humoredly. "You can call me Thomas Lackland,"
+said he. "I should be Thomas Lack-brain if I were indeed to give my true
+name, since a good many robbers, some in black gowns and some in steel,
+would be glad to help me upwards in the way you speak of. So good-day
+to you, Squire, and to you also, archer, and may you find your way back
+with whole bones from the wars!"
+
+That night the comrades slept in Godstone Priory, and early next morning
+they were well upon their road down the Pilgrim's Way. At Titsey it was
+said that a band of villeins were out in Westerham Wood and had murdered
+three men the day before; so that Nigel had high hopes of an encounter;
+but the brigands showed no sign, though the travelers went out of their
+way to ride their horses along the edges of the forest. Farther on they
+found traces of their work, for the path ran along the hillside at the
+base of a chalk quarry, and there in the cutting a man was lying dead.
+From his twisted limbs and shattered frame it was easy to see that he
+had been thrown over from above, while his pockets turned outward showed
+the reason for his murder. The comrades rode past without too close
+a survey, for dead men were no very uncommon objects on the King's
+highway, and if sheriff or bailiff should chance upon you near the body
+you might find yourself caught in the meshes of the law.
+
+Near Sevenoaks their road turned out of the old Canterbury way and
+pointed south toward the coast, leaving the chalk lands and coming down
+into the clay of the Weald. It was a wretched, rutted mule-track running
+through thick forests with occasional clearings in which lay the small
+Kentish villages, where rude shock-headed peasants with smocks and
+galligaskins stared with bold, greedy eyes at the travelers. Once on the
+right they caught a distant view of the Towers of Penshurst, and once
+they heard the deep tolling of the bells of Bayham Abbey, but for the
+rest of their day's journey savage peasants and squalid cottages were
+all that met their eyes, with endless droves of pigs who fed upon the
+litter of acorns. The throng of travelers who crowded the old road
+were all gone, and only here and there did they meet or overtake some
+occasional merchant or messenger bound for Battle Abbey, Pevensey Castle
+or the towns of the south.
+
+That night they slept in a sordid inn, overrun with rats and with fleas,
+one mile south of the hamlet of Mayfield. Aylward scratched vigorously
+and cursed with fervor. Nigel lay without movement or sound. To the man
+who had learned the old rule of chivalry there were no small ills in
+life. It was beneath the dignity of his soul to stoop to observe them.
+Cold and heat, hunger and thirst, such things did not exist for the
+gentleman. The armor of his soul was so complete that it was proof not
+only against the great ills of life but even against the small ones; so
+the flea-bitten Nigel lay grimly still while Aylward writhed upon his
+couch.
+
+They were now but a short distance from their destination; but they had
+hardly started on their journey through the forest next morning, when an
+adventure befell them which filled Nigel with the wildest hopes.
+
+Along the narrow winding path between the great oak trees there rode
+a dark sallow man in a scarlet tabard who blew so loudly upon a silver
+trumpet that they heard the clanging call long before they set eyes on
+him. Slowly he advanced, pulling up every fifty paces to make the forest
+ring with another warlike blast. The comrades rode forward to meet him.
+
+"I pray you," said Nigel, "to tell me who you are and why you blow upon
+this trumpet."
+
+The fellow shook his head, so Nigel repeated the question in French, the
+common language of chivalry, spoken at that age by every gentleman in
+Western Europe.
+
+The man put his lips to the trumpet and blew another long note before he
+answered. "I am Gaston de Castrier," said he, "the humble Squire of
+the most worthy and valiant knight Raoul de Tubiers, de Pestels, de
+Grimsard, de Mersac, de Leoy, de Bastanac, who also writes himself Lord
+of Pons. It is his order that I ride always a mile in front of him to
+prepare all to receive him, and he desires me to blow upon a trumpet not
+out of vainglory, but out of greatness of spirit, so that none may be
+ignorant of his coming should they desire to encounter him."
+
+Nigel sprang from his horse with a cry of joy, and began to unbutton his
+doublet. "Quick, Aylward, quick!" he said. "He comes, a knight errant
+comes! Was there ever such a chance of worshipfully winning worship?
+Untruss the harness whilst I loose my clothes! Good sir, I beg you to
+warn your noble and valiant master that a poor Squire of England would
+implore him to take notice of him and to do some small deed upon him as
+he passes."
+
+But already the Lord of Pons had come in sight. He was a huge man upon
+an enormous horse, so that together they seemed to fill up the whole
+long dark archway under the oaks. He was clad in full armor of a brazen
+hue with only his face exposed, and of this face there was little
+visible save a pair of arrogant eyes and a great black beard, which
+flowed through the open visor and down over his breastplate. To the
+crest of his helmet was tied a small brown glove, nodding and swinging
+above him. He bore a long lance with a red square banner at the end,
+charged with a black boar's head, and the same symbol was engraved upon
+his shield. Slowly he rode through the forest, ponderous, menacing, with
+dull thudding of his charger's hoofs and constant clank of metal, while
+always in front of him came the distant peal of the silver trumpet
+calling all men to admit his majesty and to clear his path ere they be
+cleared from it.
+
+Never in his dreams had so perfect a vision come to cheer Nigel's heart,
+and as he struggled with his clothes, glancing up continually at this
+wondrous traveler, he pattered forth prayers of thanksgiving to the good
+Saint Paul who had shown such loving-kindness to his unworthy servant
+and thrown him in the path of so excellent and debonair a gentleman.
+
+But alas! how often at the last instant the cup is dashed from the lips!
+This joyful chance was destined to change suddenly to unexpected and
+grotesque disaster--disaster so strange and so complete that through
+all his life Nigel flushed crimson when he thought of it. He was busily
+stripping his hunting-costume, and with feverish haste he had doffed
+boots, hat, hose, doublet and cloak, so that nothing remained save a
+pink jupon and pair of silken drawers. At the same time Aylward was
+hastily unbuckling the load with the intention of handing his master
+his armor piece by piece, when the Squire gave one last challenging peal
+from his silver trumpet into the very ear of the spare horse.
+
+In an instant it had taken to its heels, the precious armor upon its
+back, and thundered away down the road which they had traversed. Aylward
+jumped upon his mare, drove his prick spurs into her sides and galloped
+after the runaway as hard as he could ride. Thus it came about that in
+an instant Nigel was shorn of all his little dignity, had lost his two
+horses, his attendant and his outfit, and found himself a lonely and
+unarmed man standing in his shirt and drawers upon the pathway down
+which the burly figure of the Lord of Pons was slowly advancing.
+
+The knight errant, whose mind had been filled by the thought of the
+maiden whom he had left behind at St. Jean--the same whose glove dangled
+from his helmet--had observed nothing that had occurred. Hence, all that
+met his eyes was a noble yellow horse, which was tethered by the
+track, and a small young man, who appeared to be a lunatic since he
+had undressed hastily in the heart of the forest, and stood now with an
+eager anxious face clad in his underlinen amid the scattered debris
+of his garments. Of such a person the high Lord of Pons could take no
+notice, and so he pursued his inexorable way, his arrogant eyes looking
+out into the distance and his thoughts set intently upon the maiden of
+St. Jean. He was dimly aware that the little crazy man in the undershirt
+ran a long way beside him in his stockings, begging, imploring and
+arguing.
+
+"Just one hour, most fair sir, just one hour at the longest, and a poor
+Squire of England shall ever hold himself your debtor! Do but condescend
+to rein your horse until my harness comes back to me! Will you not stoop
+to show me some small deed of arms? I implore you, fair sir, to spare me
+a little of your time and a handstroke or two ere you go upon your way!"
+
+Lord de Pons motioned impatiently with his gauntleted hand, as one might
+brush away an importunate fly, but when at last Nigel became desperate
+in his clamor he thrust his spurs into his great war-horse, and clashing
+like a pair of cymbals he thundered off through the forest. So he
+rode upon his majestic way, until two days later he was slain by Lord
+Reginald Cobham in a field near Weybridge.
+
+When after a long chase Aylward secured the spare horse and brought it
+back, he found his master seated upon a fallen tree, his face buried in
+his hands and his mind clouded with humiliation and grief. Nothing was
+said, for the matter was beyond words, and so in moody silence they rode
+upon their way.
+
+But soon they came upon a scene which drew Nigel's thoughts away from
+his bitter trouble, for in front of them there rose the towers of a
+great building with a small gray sloping village around it, and they
+learned from a passing hind that this was the hamlet and Abbey of
+Battle. Together they drew rein upon the low ridge and looked down into
+that valley of death from which even now the reek of blood seems to
+rise. Down beside that sinister lake and amid those scattered bushes
+sprinkled over the naked flank of the long ridge was fought that
+long-drawn struggle betwixt two most noble foes with broad England as
+the prize of victory. Here, up and down the low hill, hour by hour the
+grim struggle had waxed and waned, until the Saxon army had died where
+it stood, King, court, house-carl and fyrdsman, each in their ranks even
+as they had fought. And now, after all the stress and toil, the tyranny,
+the savage revolt, the fierce suppression, God had made His purpose
+complete, for here were Nigel the Norman and Aylward the Saxon with
+good-fellowship in their hearts and a common respect in their minds,
+with the same banner and the same cause, riding forth to do battle for
+their old mother England.
+
+And now the long ride drew to an end. In front of them was the blue sea,
+flecked with the white sails of ships. Once more the road passed upward
+from the heavy-wooded plain to the springy turf of the chalk downs. Far
+to the right rose the grim fortalice of Pevensey, squat and powerful,
+like one great block of rugged stone, the parapet twinkling with steel
+caps and crowned by the royal banner of England. A flat expanse of
+reeded marshland lay before them, out of which rose a single wooded
+hill, crowned with towers, with a bristle of masts rising out of the
+green plain some distance to the south of it. Nigel looked at it with
+his hand shading his eyes, and then urged Pommers to a trot. The town
+was Winchelsea, and there amid that cluster of houses on the hill the
+gallant Chandos must be awaiting him.
+
+
+
+
+XIV. HOW NIGEL CHASED THE RED FERRET
+
+
+They passed a ferry, wound upward by a curving path, and then, having
+satisfied a guard of men-at-arms, were admitted through the frowning
+arch of the Pipewell Gate. There waiting for them, in the middle of
+the east street, the sun gleaming upon his lemon- beard, and
+puckering his single eye, stood Chandos himself, his legs apart, his
+hands behind his back, and a welcoming smile upon his quaint high-nosed
+face. Behind him a crowd of little boys were gazing with reverent eyes
+at the famous soldier.
+
+"Welcome, Nigel!" said he, "and you also, good archer! I chanced to be
+walking on the city wall, and I thought from the color of your horse
+that it was indeed you upon the Udimore Road. How have you fared,
+young squire errant? Have you held bridges or rescued damsels or slain
+oppressors on your way from Tilford?"
+
+"Nay, my fair lord, I have accomplished nothing; but I once had hopes--"
+Nigel flushed at the remembrance.
+
+"I will give you more than hopes, Nigel. I will put you where you can
+dip both arms to the elbow into danger and honor, where peril will sleep
+with you at night and rise with you in the morning and the very air you
+breathe be laden with it. Are you ready for that, young sir?"
+
+"I can but pray, fair lord, that my spirit will rise to it."
+
+Chandos smiled his approval and laid his thin brown hand on the youth's
+shoulder. "Good!" said he. "It is the mute hound which bites the
+hardest. The babbler is ever the hang-back. Bide with me here, Nigel,
+and walk upon the ramparts. Archer, do you lead the horses to the 'Sign
+of the Broom Pod' in the high street, and tell my varlets to see them
+aboard the cog Thomas before nightfall. We sail at the second hour after
+curfew. Come hither, Nigel, to the crest of the corner turret, for from
+it I will show you what you have never seen."
+
+It was but a dim and distant white cloud upon the blue water seen far
+off over the Dungeness Point, and yet the sight of it flushed the young
+Squire's cheeks and sent the blood hot through his veins. It was the
+fringe of France, that land of chivalry and glory, the stage where name
+and fame were to be won. With burning eyes he gazed across at it, his
+heart rejoicing to think that the hour was at hand when he might tread
+that sacred soil. Then his gaze crossed the immense stretch of the blue
+sea, dotted over with the sails of fishing-boats, until it rested upon
+the double harbor beneath packed with vessels of every size and shape,
+from the pessoners and creyers which plied up and down the coast to
+the great cogs and galleys which were used either as war-ships or
+merchantmen as the occasion served. One of them was at that instant
+passing out to sea, a huge galleass, with trumpets blowing and nakers
+banging, the flag of Saint George flaunting over the broad purple sail,
+and the decks sparkling from end to end with steel. Nigel gave a cry of
+pleasure at the splendor of the sight.
+
+"Aye, lad," said Chandos, "it is the Trinity of Rye, the very ship on
+which I fought at Sluys. Her deck ran blood from stem to stern that day.
+But turn your eyes this way, I beg you, and tell me if you see aught
+strange about this town."
+
+Nigel looked down at the noble straight street, at the Roundel Tower,
+at the fine church of Saint Thomas, and the other fair buildings of
+Winchelsea. "It is all new," said he--"church, castle, houses, all are
+new."
+
+"You are right, fair son. My grandfather can call to mind the time when
+only the conies lived upon this rock. The town was down yonder by the
+sea, until one night the waves rose upon it and not a house was left.
+See, yonder is Rye, huddling also on a hill, the two towns like poor
+sheep when the waters are out. But down there under the blue water and
+below the Camber Sand lies the true Winchelsea--tower, cathedral, walls
+and all, even as my grandfather knew it, when the first Edward was young
+upon the throne."
+
+For an hour or more Chandos paced upon the ramparts with his young
+Squire at his elbow and talked to him of his duties and of the secrets
+and craft of warfare, Nigel drinking in and storing in his memory every
+word from so revered a teacher. Many a time in after life, in stress and
+in danger, he strengthened himself by the memory of that slow walk with
+the blue sea on one side and the fair town on the other, when the wise
+soldier and noble-hearted knight poured forth his precept and advice as
+the master workman to the apprentice.
+
+"Perhaps, fair son," said he, "you are like so many other lads who ride
+to the wars, and know so much already that it is waste of breath to
+advise them?"
+
+"Nay, my fair lord, I know nothing save that I would fain do my duty and
+either win honorable advancement or die worshipful on the field."
+
+"You are wise to be humble," said Chandos; "for indeed he who knows most
+of war knows best that there is much to learn. As there is a mystery
+of the rivers and a mystery of woodcraft, even so there is a mystery
+of warfare by which battles may be lost and gained; for all nations are
+brave, and where the brave meets the brave it is he who is crafty and
+war-wise who will win the day. The best hound will run at fault if he be
+ill laid on, and the best hawk will fly at check if he be badly loosed,
+and even so the bravest army may go awry if it be ill handled. There are
+not in Christendom better knights and squires than those of the French,
+and yet we have had the better of them, for in our Scottish Wars and
+elsewhere we have learned more of this same mystery of which I speak."
+
+"And wherein lies our wisdom, honored sir?" asked Nigel. "I also would
+fain be war-wise and learn to fight with my wits as well as with my
+sword."
+
+Chandos shook his head and smiled. "It is in the forest and on the down
+that you learn to fly the hawk and loose the hound," said he. "So also
+it is in camp and on the field that the mystery of war can be learned.
+There only has every great captain come to be its master. To start he
+must have a cool head, quick to think, soft as wax before his purpose
+is formed, hard as steel when once he sees it before him. Ever alert he
+must be, and cautious also, but with judgment to turn his caution into
+rashness where a large gain may be put against a small stake. An eye for
+country also, for the trend of the rivers, the <DW72> of the hills, the
+cover of the woods, and the light green of the bog-land."
+
+Poor Nigel, who had trusted to his lance and to Pommers to break his
+path to glory, stood aghast at this list of needs. "Alas!" he cried.
+"How am I to gain all this?--I, who could scarce learn to read or write
+though the good Father Matthew broke a hazel stick a day across my
+shoulders?"
+
+"You will gain it, fair son, where others have gained it before you. You
+have that which is the first thing of all, a heart of fire from which
+other colder hearts may catch a spark. But you must have knowledge
+also of that which warfare has taught us in olden times. We know,
+par exemple, that horsemen alone cannot hope to win against good
+foot-soldiers. Has it not been tried at Courtrai, at Stirling, and
+again under my own eyes at Crecy, where the chivalry of France went down
+before our bowmen?"
+
+Nigel stared at him, with a perplexed brow. "Fair sir, my heart grows
+heavy as I hear you. Do you then say that our chivalry can make no head
+against archers, billmen and the like?"
+
+"Nay, Nigel, for it has also been very clearly shown that the best
+foot-soldiers unsupported cannot hold their own against the mailed
+horsemen."
+
+"To whom then is the victory?" asked Nigel.
+
+"To him who can mix his horse and foot, using each to strengthen the
+other. Apart they are weak. Together they are strong. The archer who
+can weaken the enemy's line, the horseman who can break it when it is
+weakened, as was done at Falkirk and Duplin, there is the secret of our
+strength. Now touching this same battle of Falkirk, I pray you for one
+instant to give it your attention."
+
+With his whip he began to trace a plan of the Scottish battle upon the
+dust, and Nigel with knitted brows was trying hard to muster his small
+stock of brains and to profit by the lecture, when their conversation
+was interrupted by a strange new arrival.
+
+It was a very stout little man, wheezy and purple with haste, who
+scudded down the rampart as if he were blown by the wind, his grizzled
+hair flying and his long black gown floating behind him. He was clad in
+the dress of a respectable citizen, a black jerkin trimmed with sable, a
+black-velvet beaver hat and a white feather. At the sight of Chandos
+he gave a cry of joy and quickened his pace so that when he did at last
+reach him he could only stand gasping and waving his hands.
+
+"Give yourself time, good Master Wintersole, give yourself time!" said
+Chandos in a soothing voice.
+
+"The papers!" gasped the little man. "Oh, my Lord Chandos, the papers--"
+
+"What of the papers, my worthy sir?"
+
+"I swear by our good patron Saint Leonard, it is no fault of mine! I
+had locked them in my coffer. But the lock was forced and the coffer
+rifled."
+
+A shadow of anger passed over the soldier's keen face.
+
+"How now, Master Mayor? Pull your wits together and do not stand there
+babbling like a three-year child. Do you say that some one hath taken
+the papers?"
+
+"It is sooth, fair sir! Thrice I have been Mayor of the town, and
+fifteen years burgess and jurat, but never once has any public matter
+gone awry through me. Only last month there came an order from Windsor
+on a Tuesday for a Friday banquet, a thousand soles, four thousand
+plaice, two thousand mackerel, five hundred crabs, a thousand lobsters,
+five thousand whiting--"
+
+"I doubt not, Master Mayor, that you are an excellent fishmonger; but
+the matter concerns the papers I gave into your keeping. Where are
+they?"
+
+"Taken, fair sir--gone!"
+
+"And who hath dared to take them?"
+
+"Alas! I know not. It was but for as long as you would say an angelus
+that I left the chamber, and when I came back there was the coffer,
+broken and empty, upon my table."
+
+"Do you suspect no one?"
+
+"There was a varlet who hath come with the last few days into my employ.
+He is not to be found, and I have sent horsemen along both the Udimore
+road and that to Rye, that they may seize him. By the help of Saint
+Leonard they can scarce miss him, for one can tell him a bow-shot off by
+his hair."
+
+"Is it red?" asked Chandos eagerly. "Is it fox-red, and the man a small
+man pocked with sun-spots, and very quick in his movements?"
+
+"It is the man himself."
+
+Chandos shook his clenched hand with annoyance, and then set off swiftly
+down the street.
+
+"It is Peter the Red Ferret once more!" said he. "I knew him of old in
+France, where he has done us more harm than a company of men-at-arms. He
+speaks English as he speaks French, and he is of such daring and
+cunning that nothing is secret from him. In all France there is no more
+dangerous man, for though he is a gentleman of blood and coat-armor he
+takes the part of a spy, because it hath the more danger and therefore
+the more honor."
+
+"But, my fair lord," cried the Mayor, as he hurried along, keeping pace
+with the long strides of the soldier, "I knew that you warned me to take
+all care of the papers; but surely there was no matter of great import
+in it? It was but to say what stores were to be sent after you to
+Calais?"
+
+"Is that not everything?" cried Chandos impatiently. "Can you not see,
+oh foolish Master Wintersole, that the French suspect we are about to
+make some attempt and that they have sent Peter the Red Ferret, as they
+have sent him many times before, to get tidings of whither we are bound?
+Now that he knows that the stores are for Calais, then the French near
+Calais will take his warning, and so the King's whole plan come to
+nothing."
+
+"Then he will fly by water. We can stop him yet. He has not an hour's
+start."
+
+"It may be that a boat awaits him at Rye or Hythe; but it is more like
+that he has all ready to depart from here. Ah, see yonder! I'll warrant
+that the Red Ferret is on board!"
+
+Chandos had halted in front of his inn, and now he pointed down to the
+outer harbor, which lay two miles off across the green plain. It was
+connected by a long winding canal with the inner dock at the base of the
+hill, upon which the town was built. Between the two horns formed by the
+short curving piers a small schooner was running out to sea, dipping and
+rising before a sharp southerly breeze.
+
+"It is no Winchelsea boat," said the Mayor. "She is longer and broader
+in the beam than ours."
+
+"Horses! bring horses!" cried Chandos. "Come, Nigel, let us go further
+into the matter."
+
+A busy crowd of varlets, archers, and men-at-arms swarmed round the
+gateway of the "Sign of the Broom Pod," singing, shouting, and jostling
+in rough good-fellowship. The sight of the tall thin figure of Chandos
+brought order amongst them, and a few minutes later the horses were
+ready and saddled. A breakneck ride down a steep declivity, and then
+a gallop of two miles over the sedgy plain carried them to the outer
+harbor. A dozen vessels were lying there, ready to start for Bordeaux or
+Rochelle, and the quay was thick with sailors, laborers and townsmen and
+heaped with wine-barrels and wool-packs.
+
+"Who is warden here?" asked Chandos, springing from his horse.
+
+"Badding! Where is Cock Badding? Badding is warden!" shouted the crowd.
+
+A moment later a short swarthy man, bull-necked and deep-chested, pushed
+through the people. He was clad in rough russet wool with a scarlet
+cloth tied round his black curly head. His sleeves were rolled up to
+his shoulders, and his brown arms, all stained with grease and tar, were
+like two thick gnarled branches from an oaken stump. His savage brown
+face was fierce and frowning, and was split from chin to temple with the
+long white wale of an ill-healed wound.
+
+"How now, gentles, will you never wait your turn?" he rumbled in a deep
+angry voice. "Can you not see that we are warping the Rose of Guienne
+into midstream for the ebb-tide? Is this a time to break in upon us?
+Your goods will go aboard in due season, I promise you; so ride back
+into the town and find such pleasure as you may, while I and my mates do
+our work without let or hindrance."
+
+"It is the gentle Chandos!" cried some one in the crowd. "It is the good
+Sir John."
+
+The rough harbor-master changed his gruffness to smiles in an instant.
+"Nay, Sir John, what would you? I pray you to hold me excused if I was
+short of speech, but we port-wardens are sore plagued with foolish young
+lordlings, who get betwixt us and our work and blame us because we do
+not turn an ebb-tide into a flood, or a south wind into a north. I pray
+you to tell me how I can serve you."
+
+"That boat!" said Chandos, pointing to the already distant sail rising
+and falling on the waves. "What is it?"
+
+Cock Badding shaded his keen eyes with his strong brows hand. "She has
+but just gone out," said he. "She is La Pucelle, a small wine-sloop from
+Gascony, home-bound and laden with barrel-staves."
+
+"I pray you did any man join her at the very last?"
+
+"Nay, I know not. I saw no one."
+
+"But I know," cried a seaman in the crowd. "I was standing at the
+wharf-side and was nigh knocked into the water by a little red-headed
+fellow, who breathed as though he had run from the town. Ere I had time
+to give him a cuff he had jumped aboard, the ropes were cast off, and
+her nose was seaward."
+
+In a few words Chandos made all clear to Badding, the crowd pressing
+eagerly round.
+
+"Aye, aye!" cried a seaman, "the good Sir John is right. See how she
+points. It is Picardy and not Gascony that she will fetch this journey
+in spite of her wine-staves."
+
+"Then we must lay her aboard!" cried Cock Badding. "Come, lads, here is
+my own Marie Rose ready to cast off. Who's for a trip with a fight at
+the end of it?"
+
+There was a rush for the boat; but the stout little seaman picked his
+men. "Go back, Jerry! Your heart is good, but you are overfat for the
+work. You, Luke, and you, Thomas, and the two Deedes, and William of
+Sandgate. You will work the boat. And now we need a few men of their
+hands. Do you come, little sir?"
+
+"I pray you, my dear lord, to let me go!" cried Nigel.
+
+"Yes, Nigel, you can go, and I will bring your gear over to Calais this
+night."
+
+"I will join you there, fair sir, and with the help of Saint Paul I will
+bring this Red Ferret with me."
+
+"Aboard, aboard! Time passes!" cried Badding impatiently, while already
+his seamen were hauling on the line and raising the mainsail. "Now then,
+sirrah! who are you?" It was Aylward, who had followed Nigel and was
+pushing his way aboard.
+
+"Where my master goes I go also," cried Aylward, "so stand clear,
+master-shipman, or you may come by a hurt."
+
+"By Saint Leonard! archer," said Cock Badding, "had I more time I
+would give you a lesson ere I leave land. Stand back and give place to
+others!"
+
+"Nay, stand back and give place to me!" cried Aylward, and seizing
+Badding round the waist he slung him into the dock.
+
+There was a cry of anger from the crowd, for Badding was the hero of all
+the Cinque Ports and had never yet met his match in manhood. The epitaph
+still lingers in which it was said that he "could never rest until
+he had foughten his fill." When, therefore, swimming like a duck, he
+reached a rope and pulled himself hand over hand up to the quay, all
+stood aghast to see what fell fate would befall this bold stranger. But
+Badding laughed loudly, dashing the saltwater from his eyes and hair.
+
+"You have fairly won your place, archer," said he. "You are the very man
+for our work. Where is Black Simon of Norwich?"
+
+A tall dark young man with a long, stern, lean face came forward. "I am
+with you, Cock," said he, "and I thank you for my place."
+
+"You can come, Hugh Baddlesmere, and you, Hal Masters, and you, Dicon of
+Rye. That is enough. Now off, in God's name, or it will be night ere we
+can come up with them!"
+
+Already the head-sails and the main-sail had been raised, while a
+hundred willing hands poled her off from the wharf. Now the wind caught
+her; heeling over, and quivering with eagerness like an unleashed hound
+she flew through the opening and out into the Channel. She was a famous
+little schooner, the Marie Rose of Winchelsea, and under her daring
+owner Cock Badding, half trader and half pirate, had brought back into
+port many a rich cargo taken in mid-Channel, and paid for in blood
+rather than money. Small as she was, her great speed and the fierce
+character of her master had made her a name of terror along the French
+coast, and many a bulky Eastlander or Fleming as he passed the narrow
+seas had scanned the distant Kentish shore, fearing lest that ill-omened
+purple sail with a gold Christopher upon it should shoot out suddenly
+from the dim gray cliffs. Now she was clear of the land, with the wind
+on her larboard quarter, every inch of canvas set, and her high sharp
+bows smothered in foam, as she dug through the waves.
+
+Cock Badding trod the deck with head erect and jaunty bearing, glancing
+up at the swelling sails and then ahead at the little tilted white
+triangle, which stood out clear and hard against the bright blue sky.
+Behind was the lowland of the Camber marshes, with the bluffs of Rye and
+Winchelsea, and the line of cliffs behind them. On the larboard bow rose
+the great white walls of Folkestone and of Dover, and far on the distant
+sky-line the gray shimmer of those French cliffs for which the fugitives
+were making.
+
+"By Saint Paul!" cried Nigel, looking with eager eyes over the tossing
+waters, "it seems to me, Master Badding, that already we draw in upon
+them."
+
+The master measured the distance with his keen steady gaze, and then
+looked up at the sinking sun. "We have still four hours of daylight,"
+said he; "but if we do not lay her aboard ere darkness falls she will
+save herself, for the nights are as black as a wolf's mouth, and if she
+alter her course I know not how we may follow her."
+
+"Unless, indeed, you might guess to which port she was bound and reach
+it before her."
+
+"Well thought of, little master!" cried Badding. "If the news be for the
+French outside Calais, then Ambleteuse would be nearest to Saint Omer.
+But my sweeting sails three paces to that lubber's two, and if the wind
+holds we shall have time and to spare. How now, archer? You do not seem
+so eager as when you made your way aboard this boat by slinging me into
+the sea."
+
+Aylward sat on the upturned keel of a skiff which lay upon the deck. He
+groaned sadly and held his green face between his two hands. "I would
+gladly sling you into the sea once more, master-shipman," said he, "if
+by so doing I could get off this most accursed vessel of thine. Or if
+you would wish to have your turn, then I would thank you if you would
+lend me a hand over the side, for indeed I am but a useless weight upon
+your deck. Little did I think that Samkin Aylward could be turned into
+a weakling by an hour of salt water. Alas the day that ever my foot
+wandered from the good red heather of Crooksbury!"
+
+Cock Badding laughed loud and long. "Nay, take it not to heart, archer,"
+he cried; "for better men than you or I have groaned upon this deck. The
+Prince himself with ten of his chosen knights crossed with me once, and
+eleven sadder faces I never saw. Yet within a month they had shown at
+Crecy that they were no weaklings, as you will do also, I dare swear,
+when the time comes. Keep that thick head of thine down upon the planks,
+and all will be well anon. But we raise her, we raise her with every
+blast of the wind!"
+
+It was indeed evident, even to the inexperienced eyes of Nigel, that the
+Marie Rose was closing in swiftly upon the stranger. She was a heavy,
+bluff-bowed, broad-sterned vessel which labored clumsily through the
+seas. The swift, fierce little Winchelsea boat swooping and hissing
+through the waters behind her was like some keen hawk whizzing down
+wind at the back of a flapping heavy-bodied duck. Half an hour before La
+Pucelle had been a distant patch of canvas. Now they could see the black
+hull, and soon the cut of her sails and the lines of her bulwarks. There
+were at least a dozen men upon her deck, and the twinkle of weapons from
+amongst them showed that they were preparing to resist. Cock Badding
+began to muster his own forces.
+
+He had a crew of seven rough, hardy mariners, who had been at his back
+in many a skirmish. They were armed with short swords, but Cock Badding
+carried a weapon peculiar to himself, a twenty-pound blacksmith's
+hammer, the memory of which, as "Badding's cracker," still lingers
+in the Cinque Ports. Then there were the eager Nigel, the melancholy
+Aylward, Black Simon who was a tried swordsman, and three archers,
+Baddlesmere, Masters and Dicon of Rye, all veterans of the French War.
+The numbers in the two vessels might be about equal; but Badding as
+he glanced at the bold harsh faces which looked to him for orders had
+little fear for the result.
+
+Glancing round, however, he saw something which was more dangerous to
+his plans than the resistance of the enemy. The wind, which had become
+more fitful and feebler, now fell suddenly away, until the sails hung
+limp and straight above them. A belt of calm lay along the horizon, and
+the waves around had smoothed down into a long oily swell on which
+the two little vessels rose and fell. The great boom of the Marie Rose
+rattled and jarred with every lurch, and the high thin prow pointed
+skyward one instant and seaward the next in a way that drew fresh groans
+from the unhappy Aylward. In vain Cock Badding pulled on his sheets and
+tried hard to husband every little wandering gust which ruffled for an
+instant the sleek rollers. The French master was as adroit a sailor, and
+his boom swung round also as each breath of wind came up from astern.
+
+At last even these fitful puffs died finally away, and a cloudless
+sky overhung a glassy sea. The sun was almost upon the horizon behind
+Dungeness Point, and the whole western heaven was bright with the glory
+of the sunset, which blended sea and sky in one blaze of ruddy light.
+Like rollers of molten gold, the long swell heaved up Channel from the
+great ocean beyond. In the midst of the immense beauty and peace of
+nature the two little dark specks with the white sail and the purple
+rose and fell, so small upon the vast shining bosom of the waters, and
+yet so charged with all the unrest and the passion of life.
+
+The experienced eye of the seaman told him that it was hopeless to
+expect a breeze before nightfall. He looked across at the Frenchman,
+which lay less than a quarter of a mile ahead, and shook his gnarled
+fist at the line of heads which could be seen looking back over her
+stern. One of them waved a white kerchief in derision, and Cock Badding
+swore a bitter oath at the sight.
+
+"By Saint Leonard of Winchelsea," he cried, "I will rub my side up
+against her yet! Out with the skiff, lads, and two of you to the oars.
+Make fast the line to the mast, Will. Do you go in the boat, Hugh, and
+I'll make the second. Now if we bend our backs to it we may have them
+yet ere night cover them."
+
+The little skiff was swiftly lowered over the side and the slack end of
+the cable fastened to the after thwart. Cock Badding and his comrades
+pulled as if they would snap their oars, and the little vessel began
+slowly to lurch forward over the rollers. But the next moment a larger
+skiff had splashed over the side of the Frenchman, and no less than four
+seamen were hard at work under her bows. If the Marie Rose advanced a
+yard the Frenchman was going two. Again Cock Badding raved and shook his
+fist. He clambered aboard, his face wet with sweat and dark with anger.
+
+"Curse them! they have had the best of us!" he cried. "I can do no more.
+Sir John has lost his papers, for indeed now that night is at hand I can
+see no way in which we can gain them."
+
+Nigel had leaned against the bulwark during these events, watching with
+keen attention the doings of the sailors, and praying alternately to
+Saint Paul, Saint George, and Saint Thomas for a slant of wind which
+would put them along side their enemy. He was silent; but his hot heart
+was simmering within him. His spirit had risen even above the discomfort
+of the sea, and his mind was too absorbed in his mission to have a
+thought for that which had laid Aylward flat upon the deck. He had never
+doubted that Cock Badding in one way or another would accomplish his
+end, but when he heard his speech of despair he bounded off the bulwark
+and stood before the seaman with his face flushed and all his soul
+afire.
+
+"By Saint Paul! master-shipman," he cried, "we should never hold up our
+heads in honor if we did not go further into the matter! Let us do some
+small deed this night upon the water, or let us never see land again,
+for indeed we could not wish fairer prospect of winning honorable
+advancement."
+
+"With your leave, little master, you speak like a fool," said the gruff
+seaman. "You and all your kind are as children when once the blue water
+is beneath you. Can you not see that there is no wind, and that the
+Frenchman can warp her as swiftly as we? What then would you do?"
+
+Nigel pointed to the boat which towed astern. "Let us venture forth
+in her," said he, "and let us take this ship or die worshipful in the
+attempt."
+
+His bold and fiery words found their echo in the brave rough hearts
+around him. There was a deep-chested shout from both archers and seamen.
+Even Aylward sat up, with a wan smile upon his green face.
+
+But Cock Badding shook his head. "I have never met the man who could
+lead where I would not follow," said he; "but by Saint Leonard! this is
+a mad business, and I should be a fool if I were to risk my men and my
+ship. Bethink you, little master, that the skiff can hold only five,
+though you load her to the water's edge. If there is a man yonder,
+there are fourteen, and you have to climb their side from the boat. What
+chance would you have? Your boat stove and you in the water--there is
+the end of it. No man of mine goes on such a fool's errand, and so I
+swear!"
+
+"Then, Master Badding, I must crave the loan of your skiff, for by Saint
+Paul! the good Lord Chandos' papers are not to be so lightly lost. If no
+one else will come, then I will go alone."
+
+The shipman smiled at the words; but the smile died away from his lips
+when Nigel, with features set like ivory and eyes as hard as steel,
+pulled on the rope so as to bring the skiff under the counter. It was
+very clear that he would do even as he said. At the same time Aylward
+raised his bulky form from the deck, leaned for a moment against the
+bulwarks, and then tottered aft to his master's side.
+
+"Here is one that will go with you," said he, "or he would never dare
+show his face to the girls of Tilford again. Come, archers, let us leave
+these salt herrings in their pickle tub and try our luck out on the
+water."
+
+The three archers at once ranged themselves on the same side as their
+comrade. They were bronzed, bearded men, short in stature, as were
+most Englishmen of that day, but hardy, strong and skilled with their
+weapons. Each drew his string from its waterproof case and bent the huge
+arc of his war-bow as he fitted it into the nocks.
+
+"Now, master, we are at your back," said they as they pulled and
+tightened their sword-belts.
+
+But already Cock Badding had been carried away by the hot lust of battle
+and had thrown aside every fear and doubt which had clouded him. To see
+a fight and not to be in it was more than he could bear.
+
+"Nay, have it your own way!" he cried, "and may Saint Leonard help us,
+for a madder venture I have never seen! And yet it may be worth the
+trial. But if it be done let me have the handling of it, little master,
+for you know no more of a boat than I do of a war-horse. The skiff can
+bear five and not a man more. Now, who will come?"
+
+They had all caught fire, and there was not one who would be left out.
+
+Badding picked up his hammer. "I will come myself," said he, "and you
+also, little master, since it is your hot head that has planned it. Then
+there is Black Simon, the best sword of the Cinque Ports. Two archers
+can pull on the oars, and it may be that they can pick off two or three
+of these Frenchmen before we close with them. Hugh Baddlesmere, and you,
+Dicon of Rye--into the boat with you!"
+
+"What?" cried Aylward. "Am I to be left behind? I, who am the Squire's
+own man? Ill fare the bowman who comes betwixt me and yonder boat!"
+
+"Nay, Aylward," said his master, "I order that you stay, for indeed you
+are a sick man."
+
+"But now that the waves have sunk I am myself again. Nay, fair sir, I
+pray that you will not leave me behind."
+
+"You must needs take the space of a better man; for what do you know of
+the handling of a boat?" said Badding shortly. "No more fool's talk, I
+pray you, for the night will soon fall. Stand aside!"
+
+Aylward looked hard at the French boat. "I could swim ten times up and
+down Frensham pond," said he, "and it will be strange if I cannot go as
+far as that. By these finger-bones, Samkin Aylward may be there as soon
+as you!"
+
+The little boat with its five occupants pushed off from the side of
+the schooner, and dipping and rising, made its slow way toward the
+Frenchman. Badding and one archer had single oars, the second archer was
+in the prow, while Black Simon and Nigel huddled into the stern with the
+water lapping and hissing at their very elbows. A shout of defiance rose
+from the Frenchmen, and they stood in a line along the side of their
+vessel shaking their fists and waving their weapons. Already the sun was
+level with Dungeness, and the gray of evening was blurring sky and
+water into one dim haze. A great silence hung over the broad expanse of
+nature, and no sound broke it save the dip and splash of the oars
+and the slow deep surge of the boat upon the swell. Behind them their
+comrades of the Marie Rose stood motionless and silent, watching their
+progress with eager eyes.
+
+They were near enough now to have a good look at the Frenchmen. One was
+a big swarthy man with a long black beard. He had a red cap and an ax
+over his shoulder. There were ten other hardy-looking fellows, all of
+them well armed, and there were three who seemed to be boys.
+
+"Shall we try a shaft upon them?" asked Hugh Baddlesmere. "They are well
+within our bowshot."
+
+"Only one of you can shoot at a time, for you have no footing," said
+Badding. "With one foot in the prow and one over the thwart you will get
+your stance. Do what you may, and then we will close in upon them."
+
+The archer balanced himself in the rolling boat with the deftness of a
+man who has been trained upon the sea, for he was born and bred in
+the Cinque Ports. Carefully he nocked his arrow, strongly he drew it,
+steadily he loosed it, but the boat swooped at the instant, and it
+buried itself in the waves. The second passed over the little ship, and
+the third struck in her black side. Then in quick succession so quick
+that two shafts were often in the air at the same instant--he discharged
+a dozen arrows, most of which just cleared the bulwarks and dropped upon
+the deck. There was a cry on the Frenchman, and the heads vanished from
+the side.
+
+"Enough!" cried Badding. "One is down, and it may be two. Close in,
+close in, in God's name, before they rally!"
+
+He and the other bent to their oars; but at the same instant there was
+a sharp zip in the air and a hard clear sound like a stone striking a
+wall. Baddlesmere clapped his hand to his head, groaned and fell forward
+out of the boat, leaving a swirl of blood upon the surface. A moment
+later the same fierce hiss ended in a loud wooden crash, and a short,
+thick crossbow-bolt was buried deep in the side of their boat.
+
+"Close in, close in!" roared Badding, tugging at his oar. "Saint George
+for England! Saint Leonard for Winchelsea! Close in!"
+
+But again that fatal crossbow twanged. Dicon of Rye fell back with a
+shaft through his shoulder. "God help me, I can no more!" said he.
+
+Badding seized the oar from his hand; but it was only to sweep the
+boat's head round and pull her back to the Marie Rose. The attack had
+failed.
+
+"What now, master-shipman?" cried Nigel. "What has befallen to stop us?
+Surely the matter does not end here?"
+
+"Two down out of five," said Badding, "and twelve at the least against
+us. The odds are too long, little master. Let us at least go back, fill
+up once more, and raise a mantelet against the bolts, for they have an
+arbalist which shoots both straight and hard. But what we do we must do
+quickly, for the darkness falls apace."
+
+Their repulse had been hailed by wild yells of delight from the
+Frenchmen, who danced with joy and waved their weapons madly over their
+heads. But before their rejoicings had finished they saw the little boat
+creeping out once more from the shadow of the Marie Rose, a great wooden
+screen in her bows to protect her from the arrows. Without a pause she
+came straight and fast for her enemy. The wounded archer had been put on
+board, and Aylward would have had his place had Nigel been able to see
+him upon the deck. The third archer, Hal Masters, had sprung in, and
+one of the seamen, Wat Finnis of Hythe. With their hearts hardened to
+conquer or to die, the five ran alongside the Frenchman and sprang upon
+her deck. At the same instant a great iron weight crashed through the
+bottom of their skiff, and their feet had hardly left her before she was
+gone. There was no hope and no escape save victory.
+
+The crossbowman stood under the mast, his terrible weapon at his
+shoulder, the steel string stretched taut, the heavy bolt shining upon
+the nut. One life at least he would claim out of this little band. Just
+for one instant too long did he dwell upon his aim, shifting from the
+seaman to Cock Badding, whose formidable appearance showed him to be the
+better prize. In that second of time Hal Masters' string twanged and his
+long arrow sped through the arbalister's throat. He dropped on the deck,
+with blood and curses pouring from his mouth.
+
+A moment later Nigel's sword and Badding's hammer had each claimed a
+victim and driven back the rush of assailants. The five were safe upon
+the deck, but it was hard for them to keep a footing there. The French
+seamen, Bretons and Normans, were stout, powerful fellows, armed with
+axes and swords, fierce fighters and brave men. They swarmed round
+the little band, attacking them from all sides. Black Simon felled the
+black-bearded French Captain, and at the same instant was cut over the
+head and lay with his scalp open upon the deck. The seaman Wat of Hythe
+was killed by a crashing blow from an ax. Nigel was struck down, but
+was up again like a flash, and drove his sword through the man who had
+felled him.
+
+But Badding, Masters the archer and he had been hustled back to the
+bulwark and were barely holding their own from minute to minute against
+the fierce crowd who assailed them, when an arrow coming apparently from
+the sea struck the foremost Frenchman to the heart. A moment later a
+boat dashed up alongside and four more men from the Marie Rose scrambled
+on to the blood-stained deck. With one fierce rush the remaining
+Frenchmen were struck down or were seized by their assailants. Nine
+prostrate men upon the deck showed how fierce had been the attack, how
+desperate the resistance.
+
+Badding leaned panting upon his blood-clotted hammer. "By Saint
+Leonard!" he cried, "I thought that this little master had been the
+death of us all. God wot you were but just in time, and how you came I
+know not. This archer has had a hand in it, by the look of him."
+
+Aylward, still pale from his seasickness and dripping from head to foot
+with water, had been the first man in the rescue party.
+
+Nigel looked at him in amazement. "I sought you aboard the ship,
+Aylward, but I could not lay eyes on you," said he.
+
+"It was because I was in the water, fair sir, and by my hilt! it suits
+my stomach better than being on it," he answered. "When you first set
+forth I swam behind you, for I saw that the Frenchman's boat hung by a
+rope, and I thought that while you kept him in play I might gain it.
+I had reached it when you were driven back, so I hid behind it in the
+water and said my prayers as I have not said them for many a day. Then
+you came again, and no one had an eye for me, so I clambered into it,
+cut the rope, took the oars which I found there and brought her back for
+more men."
+
+"By Saint Paul! you have acted very wisely and well," said Nigel, "and I
+think that of all of us it is you who have won most honor this day. But
+of all these men dead and alive I see none who resembles that Red Ferret
+whom my Lord Chandos has described and who has worked such despite upon
+us in the past: It would indeed be an evil chance if he has in spite of
+all our pains made his way to France in some other boat."
+
+"That we shall soon find out," said Badding. "Come with me and we will
+search the ship from truck to keel ere he escapes us."
+
+There was a scuttle at the base of the mast which led down into the body
+of the vessel, and the Englishmen were approaching this when a strange
+sight brought them to a stand. A round brazen head had appeared in the
+square dark opening. An instant afterward a pair of shining shoulders
+followed. Then slowly the whole figure of a man in complete plate-armor
+emerged on the deck. In his gauntleted hand he carried a heavy steel
+mace. With this uplifted he moved toward his enemies, silent save for
+the ponderous clank of his footfall. It was an inhuman, machine-like
+figure, menacing and terrible, devoid of all expression, slow-moving,
+inexorable and awesome.
+
+A sudden wave of terror passed over the English seamen. One of them
+tried to pass and get behind the brazen man, but he was pinned against
+the side by a quick movement and his brains dashed out by a smashing
+blow from the heavy mace. Wild panic seized the others, and they rushed
+back to the boat. Aylward strung an arrow, but his bowstring was damp
+and the shaft rang loudly upon the shining breast-plate and glanced off
+into the sea. Masters struck the brazen head with a sword, but the blade
+snapped without injuring the helmet, and an instant later the bowman was
+stretched senseless on the deck. The seamen shrank from this terrible
+silent creature and huddled in the stern, all the fight gone out of
+them.
+
+Again he raised his mace and was advancing on the helpless crowd where
+the brave were encumbered and hampered by the weaklings, when Nigel
+shook himself clear and bounded forward into the open, his sword in his
+hand and a smile of welcome upon his lips.
+
+The sun had set, and one long mauve gash across the western Channel was
+closing swiftly into the dull grays of early night. Above, a few stars
+began to faintly twinkle; yet the twilight was still bright enough for
+an observer to see every detail of the scene: the Marie Rose, dipping
+and rising on the long rollers astern; the broad French boat with its
+white deck blotched with blood and littered with bodies; the group of
+men in the stern, some trying to advance and some seeking to escape--all
+a confused, disorderly, struggling rabble.
+
+Then betwixt them and the mast the two figures: the armed shining man
+of metal, with hand upraised, watchful, silent, motionless, and Nigel,
+bareheaded and crouching, with quick foot, eager eyes and fearless happy
+face, moving this way and that, in and out, his sword flashing like a
+gleam of light as he sought at all points for some opening in the brazen
+shell before him.
+
+It was clear to the man in armor that if he could but pen his antagonist
+in a corner he would beat him down without fail. But it was not to be
+done. The unhampered man had the advantage of speed. With a few quick
+steps he could always glide to either side and escape the clumsy rush.
+Aylward and Badding had sprung out to Nigel's assistance; but he shouted
+to them to stand back, with such authority and anger in his voice that
+their weapons dropped to their sides. With staring eyes and set features
+they stood watching that unequal fight.
+
+Once it seemed that all was over with the Squire, for in springing back
+from his enemy he tripped over one of the bodies which strewed the deck
+and fell flat upon his back, but with a swift wriggle he escaped the
+heavy blow which thundered down upon him, and springing to his feet he
+bit deeply into the Frenchman's helmet with a sweeping cut in return.
+Again the mace fell, and this time Nigel had not quite cleared himself.
+His sword was beaten down and the blow fell partly upon his left
+shoulder. He staggered, and once more the iron club whirled upward to
+dash him to the ground.
+
+Quick as a flash it passed through his mind that he could not leap
+beyond its reach. But he might get within it. In an instant he had
+dropped his sword, and springing in he had seized the brazen man round
+the waist. The mace was shortened and the handle jobbed down once upon
+the bare flaxen head. Then, with a sonorous clang, and a yell of delight
+from the spectators, Nigel with one mighty wrench tore his enemy from
+the deck and hurled him down upon his back. His own head was whirling
+and he felt that his senses were slipping away, but already his
+hunting-knife was out and pointing through the slit in the brazen
+helmet.
+
+"Give yourself up, fair sir!" said he.
+
+"Never to fishermen and to archers! I am a gentleman of coat-armor. Kill
+me!"
+
+"I also am a gentleman of coat-armor. I promise you quarter."
+
+"Then, sir, I surrender myself to you."
+
+The dagger tinkled down upon the deck. Seamen and archers ran forward,
+to find Nigel half senseless upon his face. They drew him off, and a few
+deft blows struck off the helmet of his enemy. A head, sharp-featured,
+freckled and foxy-red, disclosed itself beneath it. Nigel raised himself
+on his elbow for an instant.
+
+"You are the Red Ferret?" said he.
+
+"So my enemies call me," said the Frenchman, with a smile. "I rejoice,
+sir, that I have fallen to so valiant and honorable a gentleman."
+
+"I thank you, fair sir," said Nigel feebly. "I also rejoice that I have
+encountered so debonair a person, and I shall ever bear in mind the
+pleasure which I have had from our meeting."
+
+So saying, he laid his bleeding head upon his enemy's brazen front and
+sank into a dead faint.
+
+
+
+
+XV. HOW THE RED FERRET CAME TO COSFORD
+
+
+The old chronicler in his "Gestes du Sieur Nigel" has bewailed his
+broken narrative, which rose from the fact that out of thirty-one years
+of warfare no less than seven were spent by his hero at one time or
+another in the recovery from his wounds or from those illnesses which
+arose from privation and fatigue. Here at the very threshold of his
+career, on the eve of a great enterprise, this very fate befell him.
+
+Stretched upon a couch in a low-roofed and ill-furnished chamber, which
+looks down from under the machicolated corner turret upon the inner
+court of the Castle of Calais, he lay half-unconscious and impotent,
+while great deeds were doing under his window. Wounded in three places,
+and with his head splintered by the sharp pommel of the Ferret's mace,
+he hovered betwixt life and death, his shattered body drawing him
+downward, his youthful spirit plucking him up.
+
+As in some strange dream he was aware of that deed of arms within the
+courtyard below. Dimly it came back to his memory afterwards the sudden
+startled shout, the crash of metal, the slamming of great gates, the
+roar of many voices, the clang, clang, clang, as of fifty lusty smiths
+upon their anvils, and then at last the dwindling of the hubbub, the
+low groans and sudden shrill cries to the saints, the measured murmur of
+many voices, the heavy clanking of armored feet.
+
+Sometime in that fell struggle he must have drawn his weakened body as
+far as the narrow window, and hanging to the iron bars have looked down
+on the wild scene beneath him. In the red glare of torches held from
+windows and from roof he saw the rush and swirl of men below, the ruddy
+light shining back from glowing brass and gleaming steel. As a wild
+vision it came to him afterward, the beauty and the splendor, the flying
+lambrequins, the jeweled crests, the blazonry and richness of surcoat
+and of shield, where sable and gules, argent and vair, in every
+pattern of saltire, bend or chevron, glowed beneath him like a drift of
+many- blossoms, tossing, sinking, stooping into shadow, springing
+into light. There glared the blood-red gules of Chandos, and he saw
+the tall figure of his master, a thunderbolt of war, raging in the
+van. There too were the three black chevrons on the golden shield which
+marked the noble Manny. That strong swordsman must surely be the royal
+Edward himself, since only he and the black-armored swift-footed youth
+at his side were marked by no symbol of heraldry. "Manny! Manny!
+George for England!" rose the deep-throated bay, and ever the gallant
+counter-cry: "A Chargny! A Chargny! Saint Denis for France!" thundered
+amid the clash and thudding of the battle.
+
+Such was the vague whirling memory still lingering in Nigel's mind when
+at last the mists cleared away from it and he found himself weak but
+clear on the low couch in the corner turret. Beside him, crushing
+lavender betwixt his rough fingers and strewing it over floor and
+sheets, was Aylward the archer. His longbow leaned at the foot of the
+bed, and his steel cap was balanced on the top of it, while he himself,
+sitting in his shirt sleeves, fanned off the flies and scattered the
+fragrant herbs over his helpless master.
+
+"By my hilt!" he cried with a sudden shout, every tooth in his head
+gleaming with joy, "I thank the Virgin and all the saints for this
+blessed sight! I had not dared to go back to Tilford had I lost you.
+Three weeks have you lain there and babbled like a babe, but now I see
+in your eyes that you are your own man again."
+
+"I have indeed had some small hurt," said Nigel feebly; "but it is shame
+and sorrow that I should lie here if there is work for my hands. Whither
+go you, archer?"
+
+"To tell the good Sir John that you are mending."
+
+"Nay, bide with me a little longer, Aylward. I can call to mind all that
+has passed. There was a bickering of small boats, was there not, and I
+chanced upon a most worthy person and exchanged handstrokes with him? He
+was my prisoner, was he not?"
+
+"He was, fair sir."
+
+"And where is he now?"
+
+"Below in the castle."
+
+A smile stole over Nigel's pale face. "I know what I will do with him,"
+said he.
+
+"I pray you to rest, fair sir," said Aylward anxiously. "The King's own
+leech saw you this morning, and he said that if the bandage was torn
+from your head you would surely die."
+
+"Nay, good archer, I will not move. But tell me what befell upon the
+boat?"
+
+"There is little to tell, fair sir. Had this Ferret not been his own
+squire and taken so long a time to don his harness it is likely that
+they would have had the better of us. He did not reach the battle till
+his comrades were on their backs. Him we took to the Marie Rose, because
+he was your man. The others were of no worth, so we threw them into the
+sea."
+
+"The quick and the dead?"
+
+"Every man of them."
+
+"It was an evil deed."
+
+Aylward shrugged his shoulders. "I tried to save one boy," said he; "but
+Cock Badding would not have it, and he had Black Simon and the others at
+his back. 'It is the custom of the Narrow Seas,' said they: 'To-day for
+them; to-morrow for us.'--Then they tore him from his hold and cast him
+screaming over the side. By my hilt! I have no love for the sea and its
+customs, so I care not if I never set foot on it again when it has once
+borne me back to England."
+
+"Nay, there are great happenings upon the sea, and many worthy people to
+be found upon ships," said Nigel. "In all parts, if one goes far enough
+upon the water, one would find those whom it would be joy to meet. If
+one crosses over the Narrow Sea, as we have done, we come on the French
+who are so needful to us; for how else would we win worship? Or if
+you go south, then in time one may hope to come to the land of the
+unbelievers, where there is fine skirmishing and much honor for him who
+will venture his person. Bethink you, archer, how fair a life it must
+be when one can ride forth in search of advancement with some hope of
+finding many debonair cavaliers upon the same quest, and then if one be
+overborne one has died for the faith, and the gates of Heaven are open
+before you. So also the sea to the north is a help to him who seeks
+honor, for it leads to the country of the Eastlanders and to those parts
+where the heathen still dwell who turn their faces from the blessed
+Gospel. There also a man might find some small deeds to do, and by
+Saint Paul! Aylward, if the French hold the truce and the good Sir John
+permits us, I would fain go down into those parts. The sea is a good
+friend to the cavalier, for it takes him where he may fulfil his vows."
+
+Aylward shook his head, for his memories were too recent; but he said
+nothing, because at this instant the door opened and Chandos entered.
+With joy in his face he stepped forward to the couch and took Nigel's
+hand in his. Then he whispered a word in Aylward's ear, who hurried from
+the room.
+
+"Pardieu! this is a good sight," said the knight. "I trust that you will
+soon be on your feet again."
+
+"I crave your pardon, my honored lord, that I have been absent from your
+side," said Nigel.
+
+"In truth my heart was sore for you, Nigel; for you have missed such
+a night as comes seldom in any man's life. All went even as we had
+planned. The postern gate was opened, and a party made their way in; but
+we awaited them, and all were taken or slain. But the greater part of
+the French had remained without upon the plain of Nieullet, so we
+took horse and went out against them. When we drew near them they were
+surprised, but they made good cheer among themselves, calling out to
+each other: 'If we fly we lose all. It is better to fight on, in the
+hopes that the day may be ours.' This was heard by our people in the
+van, who cried out to them: 'By Saint George! you speak truth. Evil
+befall him who thinks of flying!' So they held their ground like worthy
+people for the space of an hour, and there were many there whom it is
+always good to meet: Sir Geoffrey himself, and Sir Pepin de Werre, with
+Sir John de Landas, old Ballieul of the Yellow Tooth, and his brother
+Hector the Leopard. But above all Sir Eustace de Ribeaumont was at great
+pains to meet us worthily, and he was at handstrokes with the King for a
+long time. Then, when we had slain or taken them, all the prisoners were
+brought to a feast which was ready for them, and the knights of England
+waited upon them at the table and made good cheer with them. And all
+this, Nigel, we owe to you."
+
+The Squire flushed with pleasure at the words. "Nay, most honored lord,
+it was but a small thing which I have been able to do. But I thank God
+and our Lady that I have done some service, since it has pleased you to
+take me with you to the wars. Should it chance--"
+
+But the words were cut short upon Nigel's lips, and he lay back with
+amazed eyes staring from his pallid face. The door of his little chamber
+had opened, and who was this, the tall stately man with the noble
+presence, the high forehead, the long handsome face, the dark, brooding
+eyes--who but the noble Edward of England?
+
+"Ha, my little cock of Tilford Bridge, I still bear you in mind," said
+he. "Right glad I was to hear that you had found your wits again, and I
+trust that I have not helped to make you take leave of them once more."
+
+Nigel's stare of astonishment had brought a smile to the King's lips.
+Now the Squire stammered forth some halting words of gratitude at the
+honor done to him.
+
+"Nay, not a word," said the King. "But in sooth it is a joy to my
+heart to see the son of my old comrade Eustace Loring carry himself so
+bravely. Had this boat got before us with news of our coming, then all
+our labor had been in vain, and no Frenchman ventured to Calais that
+night. But above all I thank you for that you have delivered into my
+hands one whom I had vowed to punish in that he has caused us more
+scathe by fouler means than any living man. Twice have I sworn that
+Peter the Red Ferret shall hang, for all his noble blood and coat-armor,
+if ever he should fall into my hands. Now at last his time has come;
+but I would not put him to death until you, who had taken him, could be
+there to see it done. Nay, thank me not, for I could do no less, seeing
+that it is to you that I owe him."
+
+But it was not thanks which Nigel was trying to utter. It was hard to
+frame his words, and yet they must be said. "Sire," he murmured, "it ill
+becomes me to cross your royal will--"
+
+The dark Plantagenet wrath gathered upon the King's high brow and
+gloomed in his fierce deep-set eyes. "By God's dignity! no man has ever
+crossed it yet and lived unscathed. How now, young sir, what mean such
+words, to which we are little wont? Have a care, for this is no light
+thing which you venture."
+
+"Sire," said Nigel, "in all matters in which I am a free man I am ever
+your faithful liege, but some things there are which may not be done."
+
+"How?" cried the King. "In spite of my will?"
+
+"In spite of your will, sire," said Nigel, sitting up on his couch, with
+white face and blazing eyes.
+
+"By the Virgin!" the angry King thundered, "we are come to a pretty
+pass! You have been held too long at home, young man. The overstabled
+horse will kick. The unweathered hawk will fly at check. See to it,
+Master Chandos! He is thine to break, and I hold you to it that you
+break him. And what is it that Edward of England may not do, Master
+Loring?"
+
+Nigel faced the King with a face as grim as his own. "You may not put to
+death the Red Ferret."
+
+"Pardieu! And why?"
+
+"Because he is not thine to slay, sire. Because he is mine. Because I
+promised him his life, and it is not for you, King though you be, to
+constrain a man of gentle blood to break his plighted word and lose his
+honor."
+
+Chandos laid his soothing hand upon his Squire's shoulder. "Excuse him,
+sire; he is weak from his wounds," said he. "Perhaps we have stayed
+overlong, for the leech has ordered repose."
+
+But the angry King was not easily to be appeased. "I am not wont to
+be so browbeat," said he hotly. "This is your Squire, Master John. How
+comes it that you can stand there and listen to his pert talk, and say
+no word to chide him? Is this how you guide your household? Have you not
+taught him that every promise given is subject to the King's consent,
+and that with him only lie the springs of life and death? If he is sick,
+you at least are hale. Why stand you there in silence?"
+
+"My liege," said Chandos gravely, "I have served you for over a score of
+years, and have shed my blood through as many wounds in your cause, so
+that you should not take my words amiss. But indeed I should feel myself
+to be no true man if I did not tell you that my Squire Nigel, though
+perchance he has spoken more bluntly than becomes him, is none the less
+right in this matter, and that you are wrong. For bethink you, sire--"
+
+"Enough!" cried the King, more furious than ever. "Like master, like
+man, and I might have known why it is that this saucy Squire dares to
+bandy words with his sovereign lord. He does but give out what he hath
+taken in. John, John, you grow overbold. But this I tell you, and you
+also, young man, that as God is my help, ere the sun has set this night
+the Red Ferret will hang as a warning to all spies and traitors from the
+highest tower of Calais, that every ship upon the Narrow Seas, and every
+man for ten miles round may see him as he swings and know how heavy is
+the hand of the English King. Do you bear it in mind, lest you also may
+feel its weight!" With a glare like an angry lion he walked from the
+room, and the iron-clamped door clanged loudly behind him.
+
+Chandos and Nigel looked ruefully at each other. Then the knight patted
+his Squire upon his bandaged head.
+
+"You have carried yourself right well, Nigel. I could not wish for
+better. Fear not. All will be well."
+
+"My fair and honored lord," cried Nigel, "I am heavy at heart, for
+indeed I could do no other, and yet I have brought trouble upon you."
+
+"Nay, the clouds will soon pass. If he does indeed slay this Frenchman,
+you have done all that lay within your power, and your mind may rest
+easy."
+
+"I pray that it will rest easy in Paradise," said Nigel; "for at the
+hour that I hear that I am dishonored and my prisoner slain I tear this
+bandage from my head and so end all things. I will not live when once my
+word is broken."
+
+"Nay, fair son, you take this thing too heavily," said Chandos, with a
+grave face. "When a man has done all he may there remains no dishonor;
+but the King hath a kind heart for all his hot head, and it may be that
+if I see him I will prevail upon him. Bethink you how he swore to hang
+the six burghers of this very town, and yet he pardoned them. So keep a
+high heart, fair son, and I will come with good news ere evening."
+
+For three hours, as the sinking sun traced the shadow higher and ever
+higher upon the chamber wall, Nigel tossed feverishly upon his couch,
+his ears straining for the footfall of Aylward or of Chandos, bringing
+news of the fate of the prisoner. At last the door flew open, and there
+before him stood the one man whom he least expected, and yet would most
+gladly have seen. It was the Red Ferret himself, free and joyous.
+
+With swift furtive steps he was across the room and on his knees beside
+the couch, kissing the pendent hand. "You have saved me, most noble
+sir!" he cried. "The gallows was fixed and the rope slung, when the good
+Lord Chandos told the King that you would die by your own hand if I were
+slain. 'Curse this mule-headed Squire!' he cried. 'In God's name let him
+have his prisoner, and let him do what he will with him so long as he
+troubles me no more!' So here I have come, fair sir, to ask you what I
+shall do."
+
+"I pray you to sit beside me and be at your ease," said Nigel. "In a few
+words I will tell you what I would have you do. Your armor I will
+keep, that I may have some remembrance of my good fortune in meeting so
+valiant a gentleman. We are of a size, and I make little doubt that I
+can wear it. Of ransom I would ask a thousand crowns."
+
+"Nay, nay!" cried the Ferret. "It would be a sad thing if a man of my
+position was worth less than five thousand."
+
+"A thousand will suffice, fair sir, to pay my charges for the war. You
+will not again play the spy, nor do us harm until the truce is broken."
+
+"That I will swear."
+
+"And lastly there is a journey that you shall make."
+
+The Frenchman's face lengthened. "Where you order I must go," said he;
+"but I pray you that it is not to the Holy Land."
+
+"Nay," said Nigel; "but it is to a land which is holy to me. You will
+make your way back to Southampton."
+
+"I know it well. I helped to burn it down some years ago."
+
+"I rede you to say nothing of that matter when you get there. You will
+then journey as though to London until you come to a fair town named
+Guildford."
+
+"I have heard of it. The King hath a hunt there."
+
+"The same. You will then ask for a house named Cosford, two leagues from
+the town on the side of a long hill."
+
+"I will bear it in mind."
+
+"At Cosford you will see a good knight named Sir John Buttesthorn, and
+you will ask to have speech with his daughter, the Lady Mary."
+
+"I will do so; and what shall I say to the Lady Mary, who lives at
+Cosford on the <DW72> of a long hill two leagues from the fair town of
+Guildford?"
+
+"Say only that I sent my greeting, and that Saint Catharine has been my
+friend--only that and nothing more. And now leave me, I pray you, for my
+head is weary and I would fain have sleep."
+
+Thus it came about that a month later on the eve of the Feast of Saint
+Matthew, the Lady Mary, as she walked front Cosford gates, met with
+a strange horseman, richly clad, a serving-man behind him, looking
+shrewdly about him with quick blue eyes, which twinkled from a red and
+freckled face. At sight of her he doffed his hat and reined his horse.
+
+"This house should be Cosford," said he. "Are you by chance the Lady
+Mary who dwells there?"
+
+The lady bowed her proud dark head.
+
+"Then," said he, "Squire Nigel Loring sends you greeting and tells you
+that Saint Catharine has been his friend." Then turning to his servant
+he cried: "Heh, Raoul, our task is done! Your master is a free man once
+more. Come, lad, come, the nearest port to France! Hola! Hola! Hola!"
+And so without a word more the two, master and man, set spurs to their
+horses and galloped like madmen down the long <DW72> of Hindhead, until
+as she looked after them they were but two dark dots in the distance,
+waist-high in the ling and the bracken.
+
+She turned back to the house, a smile upon her face. Nigel had sent her
+greeting. A Frenchman had brought it. His bringing it had made him a
+freeman. And Saint Catherine had been Nigel's friend. It was at her
+shrine that he had sworn that three deeds should be done ere he should
+set eyes upon her again. In the privacy of her room the Lady Mary sank
+upon her prie-dieu and poured forth the thanks of her heart to the
+Virgin that one deed was accomplished; but even as she did so her joy
+was overcast by the thought of those two others which lay before him.
+
+
+
+
+XVI. HOW THE KING'S COURT FEASTED IN CALAIS CASTLE
+
+
+It was a bright sunshiny morning when Nigel found himself at last able
+to leave his turret chamber and to walk upon the rampart of the castle.
+There was a brisk northern wind, heavy and wet with the salt of the
+sea, and he felt, as he turned his face to it, fresh life and strength
+surging in his blood and bracing his limbs. He took his hand from
+Aylward's supporting arm and stood with his cap off, leaning on the
+rampart and breathing in the cool strong air. Far off upon the distant
+sky-line, half hidden by the heave of the waves, was the low white
+fringe of cliffs which skirted England. Between him and them lay the
+broad blue Channel, seamed and flecked with flashing foam, for a sharp
+sea was running and the few ships in sight were laboring heavily.
+Nigel's eyes traversed the wide-spread view, rejoicing in the change
+from the gray wall of his cramped chamber. Finally they settled upon a
+strange object at his very feet.
+
+It was a long trumpet-shaped engine of leather and iron bolted into a
+rude wooden stand and fitted with wheels. Beside it lay a heap of metal
+slugs and lumps of stone. The end of the machine was raised and pointed
+over the battlement. Behind it stood an iron box which Nigel opened. It
+was filled with a black coarse powder, like gritty charcoal.
+
+"By Saint Paul!" said he, passing his hands over the engine, "I have
+heard men talk of these things, but never before have I seen one. It is
+none other than one of those wondrous new-made bombards."
+
+"In sooth, it is even as you say," Aylward answered, looking at it
+with contempt and dislike in his face. "I have seen them here upon
+the ramparts, and have also exchanged a buffet or two with him who had
+charge of them. He was jack-fool enough to think that with this leather
+pipe he could outshoot the best archer in Christendom. I lent him a cuff
+on the ear that laid him across his foolish engine."
+
+"It is a fearsome thing," said Nigel, who had stooped to examine it.
+"We live in strange times when such things can be made. It is loosed by
+fire, is it not, which springs from the black dust?"
+
+"By my hilt! fair sir, I know not. And yet I call to mind that ere we
+fell out this foolish bombardman did say something of the matter. The
+fire-dust is within and so also is the ball. Then you take more dust
+from this iron box and place it in the hole at the farther end--so. It
+is now ready. I have never seen one fired, but I wot that this one could
+be fired now."
+
+"It makes a strange sound, archer, does it not?" said Nigel wistfully.
+
+"So I have heard, fair sir--even as the bow twangs, so it also has a
+sound when you loose it."
+
+"There is no one to hear, since we are alone upon the rampart, nor can
+it do scathe, since it points to sea. I pray you to loose it and I will
+listen to the sound." He bent over the bombard with an attentive ear,
+while Aylward, stooping his earnest brown face over the touch-hole,
+scraped away diligently with a flint and steel. A moment later both he
+and Nigel were seated some distance off upon the ground while amid the
+roar of the discharge and the thick cloud of smoke they had a vision
+of the long black snakelike engine shooting back upon the recoil. For a
+minute or more they were struck motionless with astonishment while the
+reverberations died away and the smoke wreaths curled slowly up to the
+blue heavens.
+
+"Good lack!" cried Nigel at last, picking himself up and looking round
+him. "Good lack, and Heaven be my aid! I thank the Virgin that all
+stands as it did before. I thought that the castle had fallen."
+
+"Such a bull's bellow I have never heard," cried Aylward, rubbing
+his injured limbs. "One could hear it from Frensham Pond to Guildford
+Castle. I would not touch one again--not for a hide of the best land in
+Puttenham!"
+
+"It may fare ill with your own hide, archer, if you do," said an angry
+voice behind them. Chandos had stepped from the open door of the corner
+turret and stood looking at them with a harsh gaze. Presently, as the
+matter was made clear to him his face relaxed into a smile.
+
+"Hasten to the warden, archer, and tell him how it befell. You will have
+the castle and the town in arms. I know not what the King may think of
+so sudden an alarm. And you, Nigel, how in the name of the saints came
+you to play the child like this?"
+
+"I knew not its power, fair lord."
+
+"By my soul, Nigel, I think that none of us know its power. I can see
+the day when all that we delight in, the splendor and glory of war, may
+all go down before that which beats through the plate of steel as easily
+as the leathern jacket. I have bestrode my warhorse in my armor and have
+looked down at the sooty, smoky bombardman beside me, and I have thought
+that perhaps I was the last of the old and he the first of the new; that
+there would come a time when he and his engines would sweep you and me
+and the rest of us from the field."
+
+"But not yet, I trust, honored sir?"
+
+"No, not yet, Nigel. You are still in time to win your spurs even as
+your fathers did. How is your strength?"
+
+"I am ready for any task, my good and honored lord."
+
+"It is well, for work awaits us--good work, pressing work, work of peril
+and of honor. Your eyes shine and your face flushes, Nigel. I live my
+own youth over again as I look at you. Know then that though there is
+truce with the French here, there is not truce in Brittany where the
+houses of Blois and of Montfort still struggle for the dukedom. Half
+Brittany fights for one, and half for the other. The French have taken
+up the cause of Blois, and we of Montfort, and it is such a war that
+many a great leader, such as Sir Walter Manny, has first earned his name
+there. Of late the war has gone against us, and the bloody hands of the
+Rohans, of Gaptooth Beaumanoir, of Oliver the Flesher and others have
+been heavy upon our people. The last tidings have been of disaster,
+and the King's soul is dark with wrath for that his friend and comrade
+Gilles de St. Pol has been done to death in the Castle of La Brohiniere.
+He will send succors to the country, and we go at their head. How like
+you that, Nigel?"
+
+"My honored lord, what could I ask for better?"
+
+"Then have your harness ready, for we start within the week. Our path
+by land is blocked by the French, and we go by sea. This night the King
+gives a banquet ere he returns to England, and your place is behind my
+chair. Be in my chamber that you may help me to dress, and so we will to
+the hall together."
+
+With satin and with samite, with velvet and with fur, the noble Chandos
+was dressed for the King's feast, and Nigel too had donned his best silk
+jupon, faced with the five scarlet roses, that he might wait upon him.
+In the great hall of Calais Castle the tables were set, a high table for
+the lords, a second one for the less distinguished knights, and a third
+at which the squires might feast when their masters were seated.
+
+Never had Nigel in his simple life at Tilford pictured a scene of such
+pomp and wondrous luxury. The grim gray walls were covered from ceiling
+to floor with priceless tapestry of Arras, where hart, hounds and
+huntsmen circled the great hall with one long living image of the chase.
+Over the principal table drooped a line of banners, and beneath them
+rows of emblazoned shields upon the wall carried the arms of the high
+noblemen who sat beneath. The red light of cressets and of torches
+burned upon the badges of the great captains of England. The lions and
+lilies shone over the high dorseret chair in the center, and the same
+august device marked with the cadency label indicated the seat of the
+Prince, while glowing to right and to left were the long lines of noble
+insignia, honored in peace and terrible in war. There shone the gold
+and sable of Manny, the engrailed cross of Suffolk, the red chevron of
+Stafford, the scarlet and gold of Audley, the blue lion rampant of
+the Percies, the silver swallows of Arundel, the red roebuck of the
+Montacutes, the star of the de Veres, the silver scallops of Russell,
+the purple lion of de Lacy, and the black crosses of Clinton.
+
+A friendly Squire at Nigel's elbow whispered the names of the famous
+warriors beneath. "You are young Loring of Tilford, the Squire of
+Chandos, are you not?" said he. "My name is Delves, and I come from
+Doddington in Cheshire. I am the Squire of Sir James Audley, yonder
+round-backed man with the dark face and close-cropped beard, who hath
+the Saracen head as a crest above him."
+
+"I have heard of him as a man of great valor," said Nigel, gazing at him
+with interest.
+
+"Indeed, you may well say so, Master Loring. He is the bravest knight
+in England, and in Christendom also, as I believe. No man hath done such
+deeds of valor."
+
+Nigel looked at his new acquaintance with hope in his eyes. "You speak
+as it becomes you to speak when you uphold your own master," said he.
+"For the same reason, Master Delves, and in no spirit of ill-will to
+you, it behooves me to tell you that he is not to be compared in name
+or fame with the noble knight on whom I wait. Should you hold otherwise,
+then surely we can debate the matter in whatever way or time may please
+you best."
+
+Delves smiled good-humoredly. "Nay, be not so hot," said he. "Had you
+upheld any other knight, save perhaps Sir Walter Manny, I had taken you
+at your word, and your master or mine would have had place for a new
+Squire. But indeed it is only truth that no knight is second to Chandos,
+nor would I draw my sword to lower his pride of place. Ha, Sir James'
+cup is low! I must see to it!" He darted off, a flagon of Gascony in
+his hand. "The King hath had good news to-night," he continued when he
+returned. "I have not seen him in so merry a mind since the night when
+we took the Frenchmen and he laid his pearl chaplet upon the head of
+de Ribeaumont. See how he laughs, and the Prince also. That laugh bodes
+some one little good, or I am the more mistaken. Have a care! Sir John's
+plate is empty."
+
+It was Nigel's turn to dart away; but ever in the intervals he returned
+to the corner whence he could look down the hall and listen to the words
+of the older Squire. Delves was a short, thick-set man past middle age,
+weather-beaten and scarred, with a rough manner and bearing which showed
+that he was more at his ease in a tent than a hall. But ten years of
+service had taught him much, and Nigel listened eagerly to his talk.
+
+"Indeed the King hath some good tidings," he continued. "See now, he
+has whispered it to Chandos and to Manny. Manny spreads it on to Sir
+Reginald Cobham, and he to Robert Knolles, each smiling like the Devil
+over a friar."
+
+"Which is Sir Robert Knolles?" asked Nigel with interest. "I have heard
+much of him and his deeds."
+
+"He is the tall hard-faced man in yellow silk, he with the hairless
+cheeks and the split lip. He is little older than yourself, and his
+father was a cobbler in Chester, yet he has already won the golden
+spurs. See how he dabs his great hand in the dish and hands forth the
+gobbets. He is more used to a camp-kettle than a silver plate. The big
+man with the black beard is Sir Bartholomew Berghersh, whose brother is
+the Abbot of Beaulieu. Haste, haste! for the boar's head is come and the
+plate's to be cleaned."
+
+The table manners of our ancestors at this period would have furnished
+to the modern eye the strangest mixture of luxury and of barbarism.
+Forks were still unknown, and the courtesy fingers, the index and
+the middle of the left hand, took their place. To use any others was
+accounted the worst of manners. A crowd of dogs lay among the rushes
+growling at each other and quarreling over the gnawed bones which were
+thrown to them by the feasters. A slice of coarse bread served usually
+as a plate, but the King's own high table was provided with silver
+platters, which were wiped by the Squire or page after each course. On
+the other hand the table-linen was costly, and the courses, served with
+a pomp and dignity now unknown, comprised such a variety of dishes and
+such complex marvels of cookery as no modern banquet could show. Besides
+all our domestic animals and every kind of game, such strange delicacies
+as hedgehogs, bustards, porpoises, squirrels, bitterns and cranes lent
+variety to the feast.
+
+Each new course, heralded by a flourish of silver trumpets, was borne
+in by liveried servants walking two and two, with rubicund marshals
+strutting in front and behind, bearing white wands in their hands, not
+only as badges of their office, but also as weapons with which to repel
+any impertinent inroad upon the dishes in the journey from the kitchen
+to the hall. Boar's heads, enarmed and endored with gilt tusks and
+flaming mouths, were followed by wondrous pasties molded to the shape of
+ships, castles and other devices with sugar seamen or soldiers who lost
+their own bodies in their fruitless defense against the hungry attack.
+Finally came the great nef, a silver vessel upon wheels laden with fruit
+and sweetmeats which rolled with its luscious cargo down the line of
+guests. Flagons of Gascony, of Rhine wine, of Canary and of Rochelle
+were held in readiness by the attendants; but the age, though luxurious,
+was not drunken, and the sober habits of the Norman had happily
+prevailed over the license of those Saxon banquets where no guest might
+walk from the table without a slur upon his host. Honor and hardihood go
+ill with a shaking hand or a blurred eye.
+
+Whilst wine, fruit and spices were handed round the high tables
+the squires had been served in turn at the farther end of the hall.
+Meanwhile round the King there had gathered a group of statesmen and
+soldiers, talking eagerly among themselves. The Earl of Stafford, the
+Earl of Warwick, the Earl of Arundel, Lord Beauchamp and Lord Neville
+were assembled at the back of his chair, with Lord Percy and Lord
+Mowbray at either side. The little group blazed with golden chains and
+jeweled chaplets, flame  paltocks and purple tunics.
+
+Of a sudden the King said something over his shoulder to Sir William de
+Pakyngton the herald, who advanced and stood by the royal chair. He was
+a tall and noble-featured man, with long grizzled beard which rippled
+down to the gold-linked belt girdling his many- tabard. On his
+head he had placed the heraldic barret-cap which bespoke his dignity,
+and he slowly raised his white wand high in the air, while a great hush
+fell upon the hall.
+
+"My lords of England," said he, "knight bannerets, knights, squires, and
+all others here present of gentle birth and coat-armor, know that your
+dread and sovereign lord, Edward, King of England and of France, bids
+me give you greeting and commands you to come hither that he may have
+speech with you."
+
+In an instant the tables were deserted and the whole company had
+clustered in front of the King's chair. Those who had sat on either side
+of him crowded inward so that his tall dark figure upreared itself amid
+the dense circle of his guests.
+
+With a flush upon his olive cheeks and with pride smoldering in his dark
+eyes, he looked round him at the eager faces of the men who had been his
+comrades from Sluys and Cadsand to Crecy and Calais. They caught fire
+from that warlike gleam in his masterful gaze, and a sudden wild, fierce
+shout pealed up to the vaulted ceiling, a soldierly thanks for what was
+passed and a promise for what was to come. The King's teeth gleamed in a
+quick smile, and his large white hand played with the jeweled dagger in
+his belt.
+
+"By the splendor of God!" said he in a loud clear voice, "I have little
+doubt that you will rejoice with me this night, for such tidings have
+come to my ears as may well bring joy to everyone of you. You know well
+that our ships have suffered great scathe from the Spaniards, who for
+many years have slain without grace or ruth all of my people who have
+fallen into their cruel hands. Of late they have sent their ships into
+Flanders, and thirty great cogs and galleys lie now at Sluys well-filled
+with archers and men-at-arms and ready in all ways for battle. I have
+it to-day from a sure hand that, having taken their merchandise aboard,
+these ships will sail upon the next Sunday and will make their way
+through our Narrow Sea. We have for a great time been long-suffering to
+these people, for which they have done us many contraries and despites,
+growing ever more arrogant as we grow more patient. It is in my mind
+therefore that we hie us to-morrow to Winchelsea, where we have twenty
+ships, and make ready to sally out upon them as they pass. May God and
+Saint George defend the right!"
+
+A second shout, far louder and fiercer than the first, came like a
+thunderclap after the King's words. It was the bay of a fierce pack to
+their trusted huntsman.
+
+Edward laughed again as he looked round at the gleaming eyes, the waving
+arms and the flushed joyful faces of his liegemen. "Who hath fought
+against these Spaniards?" he asked. "Is there anyone here who can tell
+us what manner of men they be?"
+
+A dozen hands went up into the air; but the King turned to the Earl of
+Suffolk at his elbow.
+
+"You have fought them, Thomas?" said he.
+
+"Yes, sire, I was in the great sea-fight eight years ago at the Island
+of Guernsey, when Lord Lewis of Spain held the sea against the Earl of
+Pembroke."
+
+"How found you them, Thomas?"
+
+"Very excellent people, sire, and no man could ask for better. On every
+ship they have a hundred crossbowmen of Genoa, the best in the world,
+and their spearmen also are very hardy men. They would throw great
+cantles of iron from the tops of the masts, and many of our people met
+their death through it. If we can bar their way in the Narrow Sea, then
+there will be much hope of honor for all of us."
+
+"Your words are very welcome, Thomas," said the King, "and I make
+no doubt that they will show themselves to be very worthy of what we
+prepare for them. To you I give a ship, that you may have the handling
+of it. You also, my dear son, shall have a ship, that evermore honor may
+be thine."
+
+"I thank you, my fair and sweet father," said the Prince, with joy
+flushing his handsome boyish face.
+
+"The leading ship shall be mine. But you shall have one, Walter Manny,
+and you, Stafford, and you, Arundel, and you, Audley, and you, Sir
+Thomas Holland, and you, Brocas, and you, Berkeley, and you, Reginald.
+The rest shall be awarded at Winchelsea, whither we sail to-morrow. Nay,
+John, why do you pluck so at my sleeve?"
+
+Chandos was leaning forward, with an anxious face. "Surely, my honored
+lord, I have not served you so long and so faithfully that you should
+forget me now. Is there then no ship for me?"
+
+The King smiled, but shook his head. "Nay, John, have I not given you
+two hundred archers and a hundred men-at-arms to take with you into
+Brittany? I trust that your ships will be lying in Saint Malo Bay ere
+the Spaniards are abreast of Winchelsea. What more would you have, old
+war-dog? Wouldst be in two battles at once?"
+
+"I would be at your side, my liege, when the lion banner is in the wind
+once more. I have ever been there. Why should you cast me now? I ask
+little, dear lord--a galley, a balinger, even a pinnace, so that I may
+only be there."
+
+"Nay, John, you shall come. I cannot find it in my heart to say you
+nay. I will find you place in my own ship, that you may indeed be by my
+side."
+
+Chandos stooped and kissed the King's hand. "My Squire?" he asked.
+
+The King's brows knotted into a frown. "Nay, let him go to Brittany with
+the others," said he harshly. "I wonder, John, that you should bring
+back to my memory this youth whose pertness is too fresh that I should
+forget it. But some one must go to Brittany in your stead, for the
+matter presses and our people are hard put to it to hold their own." He
+cast his eyes over the assembly, and they rested upon the stern features
+of Sir Robert Knolles.
+
+"Sir Robert," he said, "though you are young in years you are already
+old in war, and I have heard that you are as prudent in council as you
+are valiant in the field. To you I commit the charge of this venture to
+Brittany in place of Sir John Chandos, who will follow thither when our
+work has been done upon the waters. Three ships lie in Calais port and
+three hundred men are ready to your hand. Sir John will tell you what
+our mind is in the matter. And now, my friends and good comrades, you
+will haste you each to his own quarters, and you will make swiftly such
+preparations as are needful, for, as God is my aid, I will sail with you
+to Winchelsea to-morrow!"
+
+Beckoning to Chandos, Manny and a few of his chosen leaders, the King
+led them away to an inner chamber, where they might discuss the plans
+for the future. At the same time the assembly broke up, the knights in
+silence and dignity, the squires in mirth and noise, but all joyful at
+heart for the thought of the great days which lay before them.
+
+
+
+
+XVII. THE SPANIARDS ON THE SEA
+
+
+Day had not yet dawned when Nigel was in the chamber of Chandos
+preparing him for his departure and listening to the last cheery words
+of advice and direction from his noble master. That same morning, before
+the sun was half-way up the heaven, the King's great nef Philippa,
+bearing within it the most of those present at his banquet the night
+before, set its huge sail, adorned with the lions and the lilies, and
+turned its brazen beak for England. Behind it went five smaller cogs
+crammed with squires, archers and men-at-arms.
+
+Nigel and his companions lined the ramparts of the castle and waved
+their caps as the bluff, burly vessels, with drums beating and trumpets
+clanging, a hundred knightly pennons streaming from their decks and the
+red cross of England over all, rolled slowly out to the open sea. Then
+when they had watched them until they were hull down they turned, with
+hearts heavy at being left behind, to make ready for their own more
+distant venture.
+
+It took them four days of hard work ere their preparations were
+complete, for many were the needs of a small force sailing to a strange
+country. Three ships had been left to them, the cog Thomas of Romney,
+the Grace Dieu of Hythe, and the Basilisk of Southampton, into each of
+which one hundred men were stowed, besides the thirty seamen who formed
+the crew. In the hold were forty horses, amongst them Pommers, much
+wearied by his long idleness, and homesick for the <DW72>s of Surrey
+where his great limbs might find the work he craved. Then the food and
+the water, the bow-staves and the sheaves of arrows, the horseshoes, the
+nails, the hammers, the knives, the axes, the ropes, the vats of hay,
+the green fodder and a score of other things were packed aboard. Always
+by the side of the ships stood the stern young knight Sir Robert,
+checking, testing, watching and controlling, saying little, for he was a
+man of few words, but with his eyes, his hands, and if need be his heavy
+dog-whip, wherever they were wanted.
+
+The seamen of the Basilisk, being from a free port, had the old feud
+against the men of the Cinque Ports, who were looked upon by the other
+mariners of England as being unduly favored by the King. A ship of the
+West Country could scarce meet with one from the Narrow Seas without
+blood flowing. Hence sprang sudden broils on the quay side, when with
+yell and blow the Thomases and Grace Dieus, Saint Leonard on their lips
+and murder in their hearts, would fall upon the Basilisks. Then amid the
+whirl of cudgels and the clash of knives would spring the tiger figure
+of the young leader, lashing mercilessly to right and left like a tamer
+among his wolves, until he had beaten them howling back to their work.
+Upon the morning of the fourth day all was ready, and the ropes being
+cast off the three little ships were warped down the harbor by their own
+pinnaces until they were swallowed up in the swirling folds of a Channel
+mist.
+
+Though small in numbers, it was no mean force which Edward had
+dispatched to succor the hard-pressed English garrisons in Brittany.
+There was scarce a man among them who was not an old soldier, and their
+leaders were men of note in council and in war. Knolles flew his flag
+of the black raven aboard the Basilisk. With him were Nigel and his own
+Squire John Hawthorn. Of his hundred men, forty were Yorkshire Dalesmen
+and forty were men of Lincoln, all noted archers, with old Wat of
+Carlisle, a grizzled veteran of border warfare, to lead them.
+
+Already Aylward by his skill and strength had won his way to an
+under-officership amongst them, and shared with Long Ned Widdington,
+a huge North Countryman, the reputation of coming next to famous
+Wat Carlisle in all that makes an archer. The men-at-arms too were
+war-hardened soldiers, with Black Simon of Norwich, the same who had
+sailed from Winchelsea, to lead them. With his heart filled with hatred
+for the French who had slain all who were dear to him, he followed
+like a bloodhound over land and sea to any spot where he might glut
+his vengeance. Such also were the men who sailed in the other ships,
+Cheshire men from the Welsh borders in the cog Thomas, and Cumberland
+men, used to Scottish warfare, in the Grace Dieu.
+
+Sir James Astley hung his shield of cinquefoil ermine over the quarter
+of the Thomas. Lord Thomas Percy, a cadet of Alnwick, famous already
+for the high spirit of that house which for ages was the bar upon the
+landward gate of England, showed his blue lion rampant as leader of the
+Grace Dieu. Such was the goodly company Saint-Malo bound, who warped
+from Calais Harbor to plunge into the thick reek of a Channel mist.
+
+A slight breeze blew from the eastward, and the highended, round-bodied
+craft rolled slowly down the Channel. The mist rose a little at times,
+so that they had sight of each other dipping and rising upon a sleek,
+oily sea, but again it would sink down, settling over the top, shrouding
+the great yard, and finally frothing over the deck until even the water
+alongside had vanished from their view and they were afloat on a little
+raft in an ocean of vapor. A thin cold rain was falling, and the archers
+were crowded under the shelter of the overhanging poop and forecastle,
+where some spent the hours at dice, some in sleep, and many in trimming
+their arrows or polishing their weapons.
+
+At the farther end, seated on a barrel as a throne of honor, with
+trays and boxes of feathers around him, was Bartholomew the bowyer and
+Fletcher, a fat, bald-headed man, whose task it was to see that every
+man's tackle was as it should be, and who had the privilege of selling
+such extras as they might need. A group of archers with their staves and
+quivers filed before him with complaints or requests, while half a dozen
+of the seniors gathered at his back and listened with grinning faces to
+his comments and rebukes.
+
+"Canst not string it?" he was saying to a young bowman. "Then surely the
+string is overshort or the stave overlong. It could not by chance be the
+fault of thy own baby arms more fit to draw on thy hosen than to dress a
+warbow. Thou lazy lurdan, thus is it strung!" He seized the stave by
+the center in his right hand, leaned the end on the inside of his right
+foot, and then, pulling the upper nock down with the left hand, slid
+the eye of the string easily into place. "Now I pray thee to unstring it
+again," handing it to the bowman.
+
+The youth with an effort did so, but he was too slow in disengaging his
+fingers, and the string sliding down with a snap from the upper nock
+caught and pinched them sorely against the stave. A roar of laughter,
+like the clap of a wave, swept down the deck as the luckless bowman
+danced and wrung his hand.
+
+"Serve thee well right, thou redeless fool!" growled the old bowyer.
+"So fine a bow is wasted in such hands. How now, Samkin? I can teach you
+little of your trade, I trow. Here is a bow dressed as it should be; but
+it would, as you say, be the better for a white band to mark the true
+nocking point in the center of this red wrapping of silk. Leave it and I
+will tend to it anon. And you, Wat? A fresh head on yonder stele?
+Lord, that a man should carry four trades under one hat, and be bowyer,
+fletcher, stringer and headmaker! Four men's work for old Bartholomew
+and one man's pay!"
+
+"Nay, say no more about that," growled an old wizened bowman, with a
+brown-parchment skin and little beady eyes. "It is better in these days
+to mend a bow than to bend one. You who never looked a Frenchman in the
+face are pricked off for ninepence a day, and I, who have fought five
+stricken fields, can earn but fourpence."
+
+"It is in my mind, John of Tuxford, that you have looked in the face
+more pots of mead than Frenchmen," said the old bowyer. "I am swinking
+from dawn to night, while you are guzzling in an alestake. How now,
+youngster? Overbowed? Put your bow in the tiller. It draws at sixty
+pounds--not a pennyweight too much for a man of your inches. Lay more
+body to it, lad, and it will come to you. If your bow be not stiff, how
+can you hope for a twenty-score flight. Feathers? Aye, plenty and of the
+best. Here, peacock at a groat each. Surely a dandy archer like you, Tom
+Beverley, with gold earrings in your ears, would have no feathering but
+peacocks?"
+
+"So the shaft fly straight, I care not of the feather," said the bowman,
+a tall young Yorkshireman, counting out pennies on the palm of his horny
+hand.
+
+"Gray goose-feathers are but a farthing. These on the left are a
+halfpenny, for they are of the wild goose, and the second feather of a
+fenny goose is worth more than the pinion of a tame one. These in the
+brass tray are dropped feathers, and a dropped feather is better than
+a plucked one. Buy a score of these, lad, and cut them saddle-backed or
+swine-backed, the one for a dead shaft and the other for a smooth flyer,
+and no man in the company will swing a better-fletched quiver over his
+shoulder."
+
+It chanced that the opinion of the bowyer on this and other points
+differed from that of Long Ned of Widdington, a surly straw-bearded
+Yorkshireman, who had listened with a sneering face to his counsel. Now
+he broke in suddenly upon the bowyer's talk. "You would do better to
+sell bows than to try to teach others how to use them," said he; "for
+indeed, Bartholomew, that head of thine has no more sense within it than
+it has hairs without. If you had drawn string for as many months as I
+have years you would know that a straight-cut feather flies smoother
+than a swine-backed, and pity it is that these young bowmen have none to
+teach them better!"
+
+This attack upon his professional knowledge touched the old bowyer on
+the raw. His fat face became suffused with blood and his eyes glared
+with fury as he turned upon the archer. "You seven-foot barrel of lies!"
+he cried. "All-hallows be my aid, and I will teach you to open your
+slabbing mouth against me! Pluck forth your sword and stand out on
+yonder deck, that we may see who is the man of us twain. May I never
+twirl a shaft over my thumb nail if I do not put Bartholomew's mark upon
+your thick head!"
+
+A score of rough voices joined at once in the quarrel, some upholding
+the bowyer and others taking the part of the North Countryman. A
+red-headed Dalesman snatched up a sword, but was felled by a blow from
+the fist of his neighbor. Instantly, with a buzz like a swarm of angry
+hornets, the bowmen were out on the deck; but ere a blow was struck
+Knolles was amongst them with granite face and eyes of fire.
+
+"Stand apart, I say! I will warrant you enough fighting to cool your
+blood ere you see England once more. Loring, Hawthorn, cut any man down
+who raises his hand. Have you aught to say, you fox-haired rascal?" He
+thrust his face within two inches of that of the red man who had first
+seized his sword. The fellow shrank back, cowed, from his fierce
+eyes. "Now stint your noise, all of you, and stretch your long ears.
+Trumpeter, blow once more!"
+
+A bugle call had been sounded every quarter of an hour so as to keep in
+touch with the other two vessels who were invisible in the fog. Now the
+high clear note rang out once more, the call of a fierce sea-creature to
+its mates, but no answer came back from the thick wall which pent them
+in. Again and again they called, and again and again with bated breath
+they waited for an answer.
+
+"Where is the Shipman?" asked Knolles. "What is your name, fellow? Do
+you dare call yourself master-mariner?"
+
+"My name is Nat Dennis, fair sir," said the gray-bearded old seaman. "It
+is thirty years since first I showed my cartel and blew trumpet for
+a crew at the water-gate of Southampton. If any man may call himself
+master-mariner, it is surely I."
+
+"Where are our two ships?"
+
+"Nay, sir, who can say in this fog?"
+
+"Fellow, it was your place to hold them together."
+
+"I have but the eyes God gave me, fair sir, and they cannot see through
+a cloud."
+
+"Had it been fair, I, who am a soldier, could have kept them in company.
+Since it was foul, we looked to you, who are called a mariner, to do so.
+You have not done it. You have lost two of my ships ere the venture is
+begun."
+
+"Nay, fair sir, I pray you to consider--"
+
+"Enough words!" said Knolles sternly. "Words will not give me back my
+two hundred men. Unless I find them before I come to Saint-Malo, I swear
+by Saint Wilfrid of Ripon that it will be an evil day for you! Enough!
+Go forth and do what you may!"
+
+For five hours with a light breeze behind them they lurched through the
+heavy fog, the cold rain still matting their beards and shining on their
+faces. Sometimes they could see a circle of tossing water for a bowshot
+or so in each direction, and then the wreaths would crawl in upon them
+once more and bank them thickly round. They had long ceased to blow the
+trumpet for their missing comrades, but had hopes when clear weather
+came to find them still in sight. By the shipman's reckoning they were
+now about midway between the two shores.
+
+Nigel was leaning against the bulwarks, his thoughts away in the
+dingle at Cosford and out on the heather-clad <DW72>s of Hindhead, when
+something struck his ear. It was a thin clear clang of metal, pealing
+out high above the dull murmur of the sea, the creak of the boom and the
+flap of the sail. He listened, and again it was borne to his ear.
+
+"Hark, my lord!" said he to Sir Robert. "Is there not a sound in the
+fog?"
+
+They both listened together with sidelong heads. Then it rang clearly
+forth once more, but this time in another direction. It had been on the
+bow; now it was on the quarter. Again it sounded, and again. Now it had
+moved to the other bow; now back to the quarter again; now it was near;
+and now so far that it was but a faint tinkle on the ear. By this time
+every man on board, seamen, archers and men-at-arms, were crowding the
+sides of the vessel. All round them there were noises in the darkness,
+and yet the wall of fog lay wet against their very faces. And the noises
+were such as were strange to their ears, always the same high musical
+clashing.
+
+The old shipman shook his head and crossed himself.
+
+"In thirty years upon the waters I have never heard the like," said
+he. "The Devil is ever loose in a fog. Well is he named the Prince of
+Darkness."
+
+A wave of panic passed over the vessel, and these rough and hardy men
+who feared no mortal foe shook with terror at the shadows of their own
+minds. They stared into the cloud with blanched faces and fixed eyes, as
+though each instant some fearsome shape might break in upon them. And
+as they stared there came a gust of wind. For a moment the fog-bank rose
+and a circle of ocean lay before them.
+
+It was covered with vessels. On all sides they lay thick upon its
+surface. They were huge caracks, high-ended and portly, with red sides
+and bulwarks carved and crusted with gold. Each had one great sail set
+and was driving down channel on the same course at the Basilisk. Their
+decks were thick with men, and from their high poops came the weird
+clashing which filled the air. For one moment they lay there, this
+wondrous fleet, surging slowly forward, framed in gray vapor. The next
+the clouds closed in and they had vanished from view. There was a long
+hush, and then a buzz of excited voices.
+
+"The Spaniards!" cried a dozen bowmen and sailors.
+
+"I should have known it," said the shipman. "I call to mind on the
+Biscay Coast how they would clash their cymbals after the fashion of the
+heathen Moor with whom they fight; but what would you have me do, fair
+sir? If the fog rises we are all dead men."
+
+"There were thirty ships at the least," said Knolles, with a moody brow.
+"If we have seen them I trow that they have also seen us. They will lay
+us aboard."
+
+"Nay, fair sir, it is in my mind that our ship is lighter and faster
+than theirs. If the fog hold another hour we should be through them."
+
+"Stand to your arms!" yelled Knolles. "Stand to your arms--! They are on
+us!"
+
+The Basilisk had indeed been spied from the Spanish Admiral's ship
+before the fog closed down. With so light a breeze, and such a fog,
+he could not hope to find her under sail. But by an evil chance not a
+bowshot from the great Spanish carack was a low galley, thin and swift,
+with oars which could speed her against wind or tide. She also had
+seen the Basilisk and it was to her that the Spanish leader shouted his
+orders. For a few minutes she hunted through the fog, and then sprang
+out of it like a lean and stealthy beast upon its prey. It was the sight
+of the long dark shadow gliding after them which had brought that wild
+shout of alarm from the lips of the English knight. In another instant
+the starboard oars of the galley had been shipped, the sides of the two
+vessels grated together, and a stream of swarthy, red-capped Spaniards
+were swarming up the sides of the Basilisk and dropped with yells of
+triumph upon her deck.
+
+For a moment it seemed as if the vessel was captured without a blow
+being struck, for the men of the English ship had run wildly in all
+directions to look for their arms. Scores of archers might be seen under
+the shadow of the forecastle and the poop bending their bowstaves to
+string them with the cords from their waterproof cases. Others were
+scrambling over saddles, barrels and cases in wild search of their
+quivers. Each as he came upon his arrows pulled out a few to lend to his
+less fortunate comrades. In mad haste the men-at-arms also were feeling
+and grasping in the dark corners, picking up steel caps which would not
+fit them, hurling them down on the deck, and snatching eagerly at any
+swords or spears that came their way.
+
+The center of the ship was held by the Spaniards; and having slain all
+who stood before them, they were pressing up to either end before they
+were made to understand that it was no fat sheep but a most fierce old
+wolf which they had taken by the ears.
+
+If the lesson was late, it was the more thorough. Attacked on both sides
+and hopelessly outnumbered, the Spaniards, who had never doubted that
+this little craft was a merchant-ship, were cut off to the last man.
+It was no fight, but a butchery. In vain the survivors ran screaming
+prayers to the saints and threw themselves down into the galley
+alongside. It also had been riddled with arrows from the poop of the
+Basilisk, and both the crew on the deck and the galley-slaves in the
+outriggers at either side lay dead in rows under the overwhelming
+shower from above. From stem to rudder every foot of her was furred
+with arrows. It was but a floating coffin piled with dead and dying men,
+which wallowed in the waves behind them as the Basilisk lurched onward
+and left her in the fog.
+
+In their first rush on to the Basilisk, the Spaniards had seized six of
+the crew and four unarmed archers. Their throats had been cut and
+their bodies tossed overboard. Now the Spaniards who littered the deck,
+wounded and dead, were thrust over the side in the same fashion. One ran
+down into the hold and had to be hunted and killed squealing under the
+blows like a rat in the darkness. Within half an hour no sign was left
+of this grim meeting in the fog save for the crimson splashes upon
+bulwarks and deck. The archers, flushed and merry, were unstringing
+their bows once more, for in spite of the water glue the damp air took
+the strength from the cords. Some were hunting about for arrows which
+might have stuck inboard, and some tying up small injuries received in
+the scuffle. But an anxious shadow still lingered upon the face of Sir
+Robert, and he peered fixedly about him through the fog.
+
+"Go among the archers, Hawthorne," said he to his Squire. "Charge them
+on their lives to make no sound! You also, Loring. Go to the afterguard
+and say the same to them. We are lost if one of these great ships should
+spy us."
+
+For an hour with bated breath they stole through the fleet, still
+hearing the cymbals clashing all round them, for in this way the
+Spaniards held themselves together. Once the wild music came from above
+their very prow, and so warned them to change their course. Once also
+a huge vessel loomed for an instant upon their quarter, but they turned
+two points away from her, and she blurred and vanished. Soon the cymbals
+were but a distant tinkling, and at last they died gradually away.
+
+"It is none too soon," said the old shipman, pointing to a yellowish
+tint in the haze above them. "See yonder! It is the sun which wins
+through. It will be here anon. Ah! said I not so?"
+
+A sickly sun, no larger and far dimmer than the moon, had indeed shown
+its face, with cloud-wreaths smoking across it. As they looked up it
+waxed larger and brighter before their eyes--a yellow halo spread round
+it, one ray broke through, and then a funnel of golden light poured
+down upon them, widening swiftly at the base. A minute later they were
+sailing on a clear blue sea with an azure cloud-flecked sky above their
+heads, and such a scene beneath it as each of them would carry in his
+memory while memory remained.
+
+They were in mid-channel. The white and green coasts of Picardy and of
+Kent lay clear upon either side of them. The wide channel stretched in
+front, deepening from the light blue beneath their prow to purple on the
+far sky-line. Behind them was that thick bank of cloud from which they
+had just burst. It lay like a gray wall from east to west, and through
+it were breaking the high shadowy forms of the ships of Spain. Four of
+them had already emerged, their red bodies, gilded sides and painted
+sails shining gloriously in the evening sun. Every instant a fresh
+golden spot grew out of the fog, which blazed like a star for an
+instant, and then surged forward to show itself as the brazen beak of
+the great red vessel which bore it. Looking back, the whole bank of
+cloud was broken by the widespread line of noble ships which were
+bursting through it. The Basilisk lay a mile or more in front of them
+and two miles clear of their wing. Five miles farther off, in the
+direction of the French coast, two other small ships were running
+down Channel. A cry of joy from Robert Knolles and a hearty prayer
+of gratitude to the saints from the old shipman hailed them as their
+missing comrades, the cog Thomas and the Grace Dieu.
+
+But fair as was the view of their lost friends, and wondrous the
+appearance of the Spanish ships, it was not on those that the eyes of
+the men of the Basilisk were chiefly bent. A greater sight lay before
+them--a sight which brought them clustering to the forecastle with eager
+eyes and pointing fingers. The English fleet was coming forth from the
+Winchelsea Coast. Already before the fog lifted a fast galleass had
+brought the news down Channel that the Spanish were on the sea, and the
+King's fleet was under way. Now their long array of sails, gay with
+the coats and colors of the towns which had furnished them, lay bright
+against the Kentish coast from Dungeness Point to Rye. Nine and twenty
+ships were there from Southampton, Shoreham, Winchelsea, Hastings, Rye,
+Hythe, Romney, Folkestone, Deal, Dover and Sandwich. With their great
+sails slued round to catch the wind they ran out, whilst the Spanish,
+like the gallant foes that they have ever been, turned their heads
+landward to meet them. With flaunting banners and painted sails, blaring
+trumpets and clashing cymbals, the two glittering fleets, dipping and
+rising on the long Channel swell, drew slowly together.
+
+King Edward had been lying all day in his great ship the Philippa, a
+mile out from the Camber Sands, waiting for the coming of the Spaniards.
+Above the huge sail which bore the royal arms flew the red cross of
+England. Along the bulwarks were shown the shields of forty knights, the
+flower of English chivalry, and as many pennons floated from the deck.
+The high ends of the ship glittered with the weapons of the men-at-arms,
+and the waist was crammed with the archers. From time to time a crash of
+nakers and blare of trumpets burst from the royal ship, and was answered
+by her great neighbors, the Lion on which the Black Prince flew his
+flag, the Christopher with the Earl of Suffolk, the Salle du Roi of
+Robert of Namur, and the Grace Marie of Sir Thomas Holland. Farther off
+lay the White Swan, bearing the arms of Mowbray, the Palmer of Deal,
+flying the Black Head of Audley, and the Kentish man under the Lord
+Beauchamp. The rest lay, anchored but ready, at the mouth of Winchelsea
+Creek.
+
+The King sat upon a keg in the fore part of his ship, with little John
+of Richmond, who was no more than a schoolboy, perched upon his knee.
+Edward was clad in the black velvet jacket which was his favorite garb,
+and wore a small brown-beaver hat with a white plume at the side. A rich
+cloak of fur turned up with miniver drooped from his shoulders. Behind
+him were a score of his knights, brilliant in silks and sarcenets,
+some seated on an upturned boat and some swinging their legs from the
+bulwark.
+
+In front stood John Chandos in a party- jupon, one foot raised
+upon the anchor-stock, picking at the strings of his guitar and singing
+a song which he had learned at Marienburg when last he helped the
+Teutonic knights against the heathen. The King, his knights, and even
+the archers in the waist below them, laughed at the merry lilt and
+joined lustily in the chorus, while the men of the neighboring ships
+leaned over the side to hearken to the deep chant rolling over the
+waters.
+
+But there came a sudden interruption to the song. A sharp, harsh shout
+came down from the lookout stationed in the circular top at the end of
+the mast. "I spy a sail--two sails!" he cried.
+
+John Bunce the King's shipman shaded his eyes and stared at the long
+fog-bank which shrouded the northern channel. Chandos, with his fingers
+over the strings of his guitar, the King, the knights, all gazed in the
+same direction. Two small dark shapes had burst forth, and then after
+some minutes a third.
+
+"Surely they are the Spaniards?" said the King.
+
+"Nay, sire," the seaman answered, "the Spaniards are greater ships and
+are painted red. I know not what these may be."
+
+"But I could hazard a guess!" cried Chandos. "Surely they are the three
+ships with my own men on their way to Brittany."
+
+"You have hit it, John," said the King. "But look, I pray you! What in
+the name of the Virgin is that?"
+
+Four brilliant stars of flashing light had shone out from different
+points of the cloud-bank. The next instant as many tall ships had
+swooped forth into the sunshine. A fierce shout rang from the King's
+ship, and was taken up all down the line, until the whole coast from
+Dungeness to Winchelsea echoed the warlike greeting. The King sprang up
+with a joyous face.
+
+"The game is afoot, my friends!" said he. "Dress, John! Dress, Walter!
+Quick all of you! Squires, bring the harness! Let each tend to himself,
+for the time is short."
+
+A strange sight it was to see these forty nobles tearing off their
+clothes and littering the deck with velvets and satins, whilst the
+squire of each, as busy as an ostler before a race, stooped and pulled
+and strained and riveted, fastening the bassinets, the legpieces, the
+front and the back plates, until the silken courtier had become the man
+of steel. When their work was finished, there stood a stern group of
+warriors where the light dandies had sung and jested round Sir John's
+guitar. Below in orderly silence the archers were mustering under their
+officers and taking their allotted stations. A dozen had swarmed up to
+their hazardous post in the little tower in the tops.
+
+"Bring wine, Nicholas!" cried the King. "Gentlemen, ere you close your
+visors I pray you to take a last rouse with me. You will be dry enough,
+I promise you, before your lips are free once more. To what shall we
+drink, John?"
+
+"To the men of Spain," said Chandos, his sharp face peering like a gaunt
+bird through the gap in his helmet. "May their hearts be stout and their
+spirits high this day!"
+
+"Well said, John!" cried the King, and the knights laughed joyously as
+they drank. "Now, fair sirs, let each to his post! I am warden here on
+the forecastle. Do you, John, take charge of the afterguard. Walter,
+James, William, Fitzallan, Goldesborough, Reginald--you will stay with
+me! John, you may pick whom you will and the others will bide with the
+archers. Now bear straight at the center, master-shipman. Ere yonder
+sun sets we will bring a red ship back as a gift to our ladies, or never
+look upon a lady's face again."
+
+The art of sailing into a wind had not yet been invented, nor was there
+any fore-and-aft canvas, save for small headsails with which a vessel
+could be turned. Hence the English fleet had to take a long slant down
+channel to meet their enemies; but as the Spaniards coming before the
+wind were equally anxious to engage there was the less delay. With
+stately pomp and dignity, the two great fleets approached.
+
+It chanced that one fine carack had outstripped its consorts and came
+sweeping along, all red and gold, with a fringe of twinkling steel, a
+good half-mile before the fleet. Edward looked at her with a kindling
+eye, for indeed she was a noble sight with the blue water creaming under
+her gilded prow.
+
+"This is a most worthy and debonair vessel, Master Bunce," said he to
+the shipman beside him. "I would fain have a tilt with her. I pray you
+to hold us straight that we may bear her down."
+
+"If I hold her straight, then one or other must sink, and it may be
+both," the seaman answered.
+
+"I doubt not that with the help of our Lady we shall do our part," said
+the King. "Hold her straight, master-shipman, as I have told you."
+
+Now the two vessels were within arrow flight, and the bolts from the
+crossbowmen pattered upon the English ship. These short thick devil's
+darts were everywhere humming like great wasps through the air, crashing
+against the bulwarks, beating upon the deck, ringing loudly on the armor
+of the knights, or with a soft muffled thud sinking to the socket in a
+victim.
+
+The bowmen along either side of the Philippa had stood motionless
+waiting for their orders, but now there was a sharp shout from their
+leader, and every string twanged together. The air was full of their
+harping, together with the swish of the arrows, the long-drawn keening
+of the bowmen and the short deep bark of the under-officers. "Steady,
+steady! Loose steady! Shoot wholly together! Twelve score paces! Ten
+score! Now eight! Shoot wholly together!" Their gruff shouts broke
+through the high shrill cry like the deep roar of a wave through the
+howl of the wind.
+
+As the two great ships hurtled together the Spaniard turned away a few
+points so that the blow should be a glancing one. None the less it was
+terrific. A dozen men in the tops of the carack were balancing a huge
+stone with the intention of dropping it over on the English deck. With a
+scream of horror they saw the mast cracking beneath them. Over it went,
+slowly at first, then faster, until with a crash it came down on its
+side, sending them flying like stones from a sling far out into the sea.
+A swath of crushed bodies lay across the deck where the mast had fallen.
+But the English ship had not escaped unscathed. Her mast held, it is
+true, but the mighty shock not only stretched every man flat upon the
+deck, but had shaken a score of those who lined her sides into the sea.
+One bowman was hurled from the top, and his body fell with a dreadful
+crash at the very side of the prostrate King upon the forecastle. Many
+were thrown down with broken arms and legs from the high castles at
+either end into the waist of the ship. Worst of all, the seams had been
+opened by the crash and the water was gushing in at a dozen places.
+
+But these were men of experience and of discipline, men who had already
+fought together by sea and by land, so that each knew his place and his
+duty. Those who could staggered to their feet and helped up a score or
+more of knights who were rolling and clashing in the scuppers unable to
+rise for the weight of their armor. The bowmen formed up as before. The
+seamen ran to the gaping seams with oakum and with tar. In ten minutes
+order had been restored and the Philippa, though shaken and weakened,
+was ready for battle once more. The King was glaring round him like a
+wounded boar.
+
+"Grapple my ship with that," he cried, pointing to the crippled
+Spaniard, "for I would have possession of her!"
+
+But already the breeze had carried them past it, and a dozen Spanish
+ships were bearing down full upon them.
+
+"We cannot win back to her, lest we show our flank to these others,"
+said the shipman.
+
+"Let her go her way!" cried the knights. "You shall have better than
+her."
+
+"By Saint George! you speak the truth," said the King, "for she is ours
+when we have time to take her. These also seem very worthy ships which
+are drawing up to us, and I pray you, master-shipman, that you will have
+a tilt with the nearest."
+
+A great carack was within a bowshot of them and crossing their bows.
+Bunce looked up at his mast, and he saw that already it was shaken and
+drooping. Another blow and it would be over the side and his ship a
+helpless log upon the water. He jammed his helm round therefore, and ran
+his ship alongside the Spaniard, throwing out his hooks and iron chains
+as he did so.
+
+They, no less eager, grappled the Philippa both fore and aft, and the
+two vessels, linked tightly together, surged slowly over the long blue
+rollers. Over their bulwarks hung a cloud of men locked together in
+a desperate struggle, sometimes surging forward on to the deck of the
+Spaniard, sometimes recoiling back on to the King's ship, reeling this
+way and that, with the swords flickering like silver flames above them,
+while the long-drawn cry of rage and agony swelled up like a wolf's howl
+to the calm blue heaven above them.
+
+But now ship after ship of the English had come up, each throwing its
+iron over the nearest Spaniard and striving to board her high red sides.
+Twenty ships were drifting in furious single combat after the manner
+of the Philippa, until the whole surface of the sea was covered with
+a succession of these desperate duels. The dismasted carack, which
+the King's ship had left behind it, had been carried by the Earl of
+Suffolk's Christopher, and the water was dotted with the heads of her
+crew. An English ship had been sunk by a huge stone discharged from
+an engine, and her men also were struggling in the waves, none having
+leisure to lend them a hand. A second English ship was caught between
+two of the Spanish vessels and overwhelmed by a rush of boarders so that
+not a man of her was left alive. On the other hand, Mowbray and Audley
+had each taken the caracks which were opposed to them, and the battle in
+the center, after swaying this way and that, was turning now in favor of
+the Islanders.
+
+The Black Prince, with the Lion, the Grace Marie and four other ships
+had swept round to turn the Spanish flank; but the movement was seen,
+and the Spaniards had ten ships with which to meet it, one of them their
+great carack the St. Iago di Compostella. To this ship the Prince had
+attached his little cog and strove desperately to board her, but her
+side was so high and the defense so desperate that his men could never
+get beyond her bulwarks but were hurled down again and again with a
+clang and clash to the deck beneath. Her side bristled with crossbowmen,
+who shot straight down on to the packed waist of the Lion, so that the
+dead lay there in heaps. But the most dangerous of all was a swarthy
+black-bearded giant in the tops, who crouched so that none could see
+him, but rising every now and then with a huge lump of iron between his
+hands, hurled it down with such force that nothing would stop it. Again
+and again these ponderous bolts crashed through the deck and hurtled
+down into the bottom of the ship, starting the planks and shattering all
+that came in their way.
+
+The Prince, clad in that dark armor which gave him his name, was
+directing the attack from the poop when the shipman rushed wildly up to
+him with fear on his face.
+
+"Sire!" he cried. "The ship may not stand against these blows. A few
+more will sink her! Already the water floods inboard."
+
+The Prince looked up, and as he did so the shaggy beard showed once more
+and two brawny arms swept downward. A great slug, whizzing down, beat
+a gaping hole in the deck, and fell rending and riving into the hold
+below. The master-mariner tore his grizzled hair.
+
+"Another leak!" he cried. "I pray to Saint Leonard to bear us up this
+day! Twenty of my shipmen are bailing with buckets, but the water rises
+on them fast. The vessel may not float another hour."
+
+The Prince had snatched a crossbow from one of his attendants and
+leveled it at the Spaniard's tops. At the very instant when the seaman
+stood erect with a fresh bar in his hands, the bolt took him full in
+the face, and his body fell forward over the parapet, hanging there
+head downward. A howl of exultation burst from the English at the sight,
+answered by a wild roar of anger from the Spaniards. A seaman had run
+from the Lion's hold and whispered in the ear of the shipman. He turned
+an ashen face upon the Prince.
+
+"It is even as I say, sire. The ship is sinking beneath our feet!" he
+cried.
+
+"The more need that we should gain another," said he. "Sir Henry Stokes,
+Sir Thomas Stourton, William, John of Clifton, here lies our road!
+Advance my banner, Thomas de Mohun! On, and the day is ours!"
+
+By a desperate scramble a dozen men, the Prince at their head, gained
+a footing on the edge of the Spaniard's deck. Some slashed furiously to
+clear a space, others hung over, clutching the rail with one hand and
+pulling up their comrades from below. Every instant that they could hold
+their own their strength increased, till twenty had become thirty and
+thirty forty, when of a sudden the newcomers, still reaching forth to
+their comrades below, saw the deck beneath them reel and vanish in a
+swirling sheet of foam. The Prince's ship had foundered.
+
+A yell went up from the Spaniards as they turned furiously upon the
+small band who had reached their deck. Already the Prince and his men
+had carried the poop, and from that high station they beat back their
+swarming enemies. But crossbow darts pelted and thudded among their
+ranks till a third of their number were stretched upon the planks. Lined
+across the deck they could hardly keep an unbroken front to the leaping,
+surging crowd who pressed upon them. Another rush, or another after
+that, must assuredly break them, for these dark men of Spain, hardened
+by an endless struggle with the Moors, were fierce and stubborn
+fighters. But hark to this sudden roar upon the farther side of them--
+
+"Saint George! Saint George! A Knolles to the rescue!" A small craft
+had run alongside and sixty men had swarmed on the deck of the St. Iago.
+Caught between two fires, the Spaniards wavered and broke. The fight
+became a massacre. Down from the poop sprang the Prince's men. Up from
+the waist rushed the new-corners. There were five dreadful minutes of
+blows and screams and prayers with struggling figures clinging to the
+bulwarks and sullen splashes into the water below. Then it was over, and
+a crowd of weary, overstrained men leaned panting upon their weapons, or
+lay breathless and exhausted upon the deck of the captured carack.
+
+The Prince had pulled up his visor and lowered his beaver. He smiled
+proudly as he gazed around him and wiped his streaming face. "Where is
+the shipman?" he asked. "Let him lead us against another ship."
+
+"Nay, sire, the shipman and all his men have sunk in the Lion," said
+Thomas de Mohun, a young knight of the West Country, who carried the
+standard. "We have lost our ship and the half of our following. I fear
+that we can fight no more."
+
+"It matters the less since the day is already ours," said the Prince,
+looking over the sea. "My noble father's royal banner flies upon yonder
+Spaniard. Mowbray, Audley, Suffolk, Beauchamp, Namur, Tracey, Stafford,
+Arundel, each has his flag over a scarlet carack, even as mine floats
+over this. See, yonder squadron is already far beyond our reach. But
+surely we owe thanks to you who came at so perilous a moment to our aid.
+Your face I have seen, and your coat-armor also, young sir, though I
+cannot lay my tongue to your name. Let me know that I may thank you."
+
+He had turned to Nigel, who stood flushed and joyous at the head of the
+boarders from the Basilisk.
+
+"I am but a Squire, sire, and can claim no thanks, for there is nothing
+that I have done. Here is our leader."
+
+The Prince's eyes fell upon the shield charged with the Black Raven and
+the stern young face of him who bore it. "Sir Robert Knolles," said he,
+"I had thought you were on your way to Brittany."
+
+"I was so, sire, when I had the fortune to see this battle as I passed."
+
+The Prince laughed. "It would indeed be to ask too much, Robert, that
+you should keep on your course when much honor was to be gathered so
+close to you. But now I pray you that you will come back with us to
+Winchelsea, for well I know that my father would fain thank you for what
+you have done this day."
+
+But Robert Knolles shook his head. "I have your father's command,
+sire, and without his order I may not go against it. Our people are
+hard-pressed in Brittany, and it is not for me to linger on the way. I
+pray you, sire, if you must needs mention me to the King, to crave his
+pardon that I should have broken my journey thus."
+
+"You are right, Robert. God-speed you on your way! And I would that I
+were sailing under your banner, for I see clearly that you will take
+your people where they may worshipfully win worship. Perchance I also
+maybe in Brittany before the year is past."
+
+The Prince turned to the task of gathering his weary people together,
+and the Basilisks passed over the side once more and dropped down on to
+their own little ship. They poled her off from the captured Spaniard
+and set their sail with their prow for the south. Far ahead of them were
+their two consorts, beating towards them in the hope of giving help,
+while down Channel were a score of Spanish ships with a few of the
+English vessels hanging upon their skirts. The sun lay low on the water,
+and its level beams glowed upon the scarlet and gold of fourteen great
+caracks, each flying the cross of Saint George, and towering high above
+the cluster of English ships which, with brave waving of flags and
+blaring of music, were moving slowly towards the Kentish coast.
+
+
+
+
+XVIII. HOW BLACK SIMON CLAIMED FORFEIT FROM THE KING OF SARK
+
+
+For a day and a half the small fleet made good progress, but on the
+second morning, after sighting Cape de la Hague, there came a brisk land
+wind which blew them out to sea. It grew into a squall with rain and fog
+so that they were two more days beating back. Next morning they found
+themselves in a dangerous rock studded sea with a small island upon
+their starboard quarter. It was girdled with high granite cliffs of
+a reddish hue, and <DW72>s of bright green grassland lay above them. A
+second smaller island lay beside it. Dennis the shipman shook his head
+as he looked.
+
+"That is Brechou," said he, "and the larger one is the Island of Sark.
+If ever I be cast away, I pray the saints that I may not be upon yonder
+coast!"
+
+Knolles gazed across at it. "You say well, master-shipman," said he. "It
+does appear to be a rocky and perilous spot."
+
+"Nay, it is the rocky hearts of those who dwell upon it that I had in
+my mind," the old sailor answered. "We are well safe in three goodly
+vessels, but had we been here in a small craft I make no doubt that they
+would have already had their boats out against us."
+
+"Who then are these people, and how do they live upon so small and
+windswept an island?" asked the soldier.
+
+"They do not live from the island, fair sir, but from what they can
+gather upon the sea around it. They are broken folk from all countries,
+justice-fliers, prison-breakers, reavers, escaped bondsmen, murderers
+and staff-strikers who have made their way to this outland place and
+hold it against all comers. There is one here who could tell you of
+them and of their ways, for he was long time prisoner amongst them."
+The seaman pointed to Black Simon, the dark man from Norwich, who
+was leaning against the side lost in moody thought and staring with a
+brooding eye at the distant shore.
+
+"How now, fellow?" asked Knolles. "What is this I hear? Is it indeed
+sooth that you have been a captive upon this island?"
+
+"It is true, fair sir. For eight months I have been servant to the man
+whom they call their King. His name is La Muette, and he comes from
+Jersey nor is there under God's sky a man whom I have more desire to
+see."
+
+"Has he then mishandled you?"
+
+Black Simon gave a wry smile and pulled off his jerkin. His lean sinewy
+back was waled and puckered with white scars. "He has left his sign of
+hand upon me," said he. "He swore that he would break me to his will,
+and thus he tried to do it. But most I desire to see him because he hath
+lost a wager to me and I would fain be paid."
+
+"This is a strange saying," said Knolles. "What is this wager, and why
+should he pay you?"
+
+"It is but a small matter," Simon answered; "but I am a poor man and the
+payment would be welcome. Should it have chanced that we stopped at this
+island I should have craved your leave that I go ashore and ask for that
+which I have fairly won."
+
+Sir Robert Knolles laughed. "This business tickleth my fancy," said he.
+"As to stopping at the island, this shipman tells me that we must needs
+wait a day and a night, for that we have strained our planks. But if you
+should go ashore, how will you be sure that you will be free to depart,
+or that you will see this King of whom you speak?"
+
+Black Simon's dark face was shining with a fierce joy. "Fair sir, I will
+ever be your debtor if you will let me go. Concerning what you ask, I
+know this island even as I know the streets of Norwich, as you may well
+believe seeing that it is but a small place and I upon it for near a
+year. Should I land after dark, I could win my way to the King's house,
+and if he be not dead or distraught with drink I could have speech with
+him alone, for I know his ways and his hours and how he may be found. I
+would ask only that Aylward the archer may go with me, that I may have
+one friend at my side if things should chance to go awry."
+
+Knolles thought awhile. "It is much that you ask," said he, "for by
+God's truth I reckon that you and this friend of yours are two of my men
+whom I would be least ready to lose. I have seen you both at grips with
+the Spaniards and I know you. But I trust you, and if we must indeed
+stop at this accursed place, then you may do as you will. If you have
+deceived me, or if this is a trick by which you design to leave me, then
+God be your friend when next we meet, for man will be of small avail!"
+
+It proved that not only the seams had to be calked but that the cog
+Thomas was out of fresh water. The ships moored therefore near the Isle
+of Brechou, where springs were to be found. There were no people upon
+this little patch, but over on the farther island many figures could be
+seen watching them, and the twinkle of steel from among them showed that
+they were armed men. One boat had ventured forth and taken a good look
+at them, but had hurried back with the warning that they were too strong
+to be touched.
+
+Black Simon found Aylward seated under the poop with his back, against
+Bartholomew the bowyer. He was whistling merrily as he carved a girl's
+face upon the horn of his bow.
+
+"My friend," said Simon, "will you come ashore to-night--for I have need
+of your help?"
+
+Aylward crowed lustily. "Will I come, Simon? By my hilt, I shall be
+right glad to put my foot on the good brown earth once more. All my life
+I have trod it, and yet I would never have learned its worth had I not
+journeyed in these cursed ships. We will go on shore together, Simon,
+and we will seek out the women, if there be any there, for it seems a
+long year since I heard their gentle voices, and my eyes are weary of
+such faces as Bartholomew's or thine."
+
+Simon's grim features relaxed into a smile. "The only face that you will
+see ashore, Samkin, will bring you small comfort," said he, "and I warn
+you that this is no easy errand, but one which may be neither sweet nor
+fair, for if these people take us our end will be a cruel one."
+
+"By my hilt," said Aylward, "I am with you, gossip, wherever you may go!
+Say no more, therefore, for I am weary of living like a cony in a hole,
+and I shall be right glad to stand by you in your venture."
+
+That night, two hours after dark, a small boat put forth from the
+Basilisk. It contained Simon, Aylward and two seamen. The soldiers
+carried their swords, and Black Simon bore a brown biscuit-bag over
+his shoulder. Under his direction the rowers skirted the dangerous
+surf which beat against the cliffs until they came to a spot where an
+outlying reef formed a breakwater. Within was a belt of calm water and a
+shallow cover with a sloping beach. Here the boat was dragged up and the
+seamen were ordered to wait, while Simon and Aylward started on their
+errand.
+
+With the assured air of a man who knows exactly where he is and whither
+he is going, the man-at-arms began to clamber up a narrow fern-lined
+cleft among the rocks. It was no easy ascent in the darkness, but Simon
+climbed on like an old dog hot upon a scent, and the panting Aylward
+struggled after as best he might. At last they were at the summit and
+the archer threw himself down upon the grass.
+
+"Nay, Simon, I have not enough breath to blow out a candle," said he.
+"Stint your haste for a minute, since we have a long night before us.
+Surely this man is a friend indeed, if you hasten so to see him."
+
+"Such a friend," Simon answered, "that I have often dreamed of our next
+meeting. Now before that moon has set it will have come."
+
+"Had it been a wench I could have understood it," said Aylward. "By
+these ten finger-bones, if Mary of the mill or little Kate of Compton
+had waited me on the brow of this cliff, I should have come up it and
+never known it was there. But surely I see houses and hear voices over
+yonder in the shadow?"
+
+"It is their town," whispered Simon. "There are a hundred as
+bloody-minded cutthroats as are to be found in Christendom beneath those
+roofs. Hark to that!"
+
+A fierce burst of laughter came out of the darkness, followed by a long
+cry of pain.
+
+"All-hallows be with us!" cried Aylward. "What is that?"
+
+"As like as not some poor devil has fallen into their clutches, even as
+I did. Come this way, Samkin, for there is a peat-cutting where we may
+hide. Aye, here it is, but deeper and broader than of old. Now follow me
+close, for if we keep within it we shall find ourselves a stone cast off
+the King's house."
+
+Together they crept along the dark cutting. Suddenly Simon seized
+Aylward by the shoulder and pushed him into the shadow of the bank.
+Crouching in the darkness, they heard footsteps and voices upon the
+farther side of the trench. Two men sauntered along it and stopped
+almost at the very spot where the comrades were lying. Aylward could see
+their dark figures outlined against the starry sky.
+
+"Why should you scold, Jacques," said one of them, speaking a strange
+half-French, half-English lingo. "Le diable t'emporte for a grumbling
+rascal. You won a woman and I got nothing. What more would you have?"
+
+"You will have your chance off the next ship, mon garcon, but mine is
+passed. A woman, it is true--an old peasant out of the fields, with a
+face as yellow as a kite's claw. But Gaston, who threw a nine against my
+eight, got as fair a little Normandy lass as ever your eyes have seen.
+Curse the dice, I say! And as to my woman, I will sell her to you for a
+firkin of Gascony."
+
+"I have no wine to spare, but I will give you a keg of apples," said
+the other. "I had it out of the Peter and Paul, the Falmouth boat that
+struck in Creux Bay."
+
+"Well, well your apples may be the worse for keeping, but so is old
+Marie, and we can cry quits on that. Come round and drink a cup over the
+bargain."
+
+They shuffled onward in the darkness.
+
+"Heard you ever such villainy?" cried Aylward, breathing fierce and
+hard. "Did you hear them, Simon? A woman for a keg of apples! And my
+heart's root is sad for the other one, the girl of Normandy. Surely we
+can land to-morrow and burn all these water-rats out of their nest."
+
+"Nay, Sir Robert will not waste time or strength ere he reach Brittany."
+
+"Sure I am that if my little master Squire Loring had the handling
+of it, every woman on this island would be free ere another day had
+passed."
+
+"I doubt it not," said Simon. "He is one who makes an idol of woman,
+after the manner of those crazy knight errants. But Sir Robert is a true
+soldier and hath only his purpose in view."
+
+"Simon," said Aylward, "the light is not overgood and the place is
+cramped for sword-play, but if you will step out into the open I will
+teach you whether my master is a true soldier or not."
+
+"Tut, man! you are as foolish yourself," said Simon. "Here we are with
+our work in hand, and yet you must needs fall out with me on our way to
+it. I say nothing against your master save that he hath the way of his
+fellows who follow dreams and fancies. But Knolles looks neither to
+right nor left and walks forward to his mark. Now, let us on, for the
+time passes."
+
+"Simon, your words are neither good nor fair. When we are back on
+shipboard we will speak further of this matter. Now lead on, I pray you,
+and let us see some more of this ten-devil island."
+
+For half a mile Simon led the way until they came to a large house which
+stood by itself. Peering at it from the edge of the cutting, Aylward
+could see that it was made from the wreckage of many vessels, for at
+each corner a prow was thrust out. Lights blazed within, and there came
+the sound of a strong voice singing a gay song which was taken up by a
+dozen others in the chorus.
+
+"All is well, lad!" whispered Simon in great delight. "That is the voice
+of the King. It is the very song he used to sing. 'Les deux filles de
+Pierre.' 'Fore God, my back tingles at the very sound of it. Here we
+will wait until his company take their leave."
+
+Hour after hour they crouched in the peat-cutting, listening to the
+noisy songs of the revelers within, some French, some English, and all
+growing fouler and less articulate as the night wore on. Once a
+quarrel broke out and the clamor was like a cageful of wild beasts at
+feeding-time. Then a health was drunk and there was much stamping and
+cheering.
+
+Only once was the long vigil broken. A woman came forth from the house
+and walked up and down, with her face sunk upon her breast. She was tall
+and slender, but her features could not be seen for a wimple over her
+head. Weary sadness could be read in her bowed back and dragging steps.
+Once only they saw her throw her two hands up to Heaven as one who is
+beyond human aid. Then she passed slowly into the house again. A moment
+later the door of the hall was flung open, and a shouting stumbling
+throng came crowding forth, with whoop and yell, into the silent
+night. Linking arms and striking up a chorus, they marched past the
+peat-cutting, their voices dwindling slowly away as they made for their
+homes.
+
+"Now, Samkin, now!" cried Simon, and jumping out from the hiding-place
+he made for the door. It had not yet been fastened. The two comrades
+sprang inside. Then Simon drew the bolts so that none might interrupt
+them.
+
+A long table littered with flagons and beakers lay before them. It was
+lit up by a line of torches, which flickered and smoked in their iron
+sconces. At the farther end a solitary man was seated. His head rested
+upon his two hands, as if he were befuddled with wine, but at the harsh
+sound of the snapping bolts he raised his face and looked angrily around
+him. It was a strange powerful head, tawny and shaggy like a lion's,
+with a tangled beard and a large harsh face, bloated and blotched with
+vice. He laughed as the newcomers entered, thinking that two of his boon
+companions had returned to finish a flagon. Then he stared hard and he
+passed his hand over his eyes like one who thinks he may be dreaming.
+
+"Mon Dieu!" he cried. "Who are you and whence come you at this hour of
+the night? Is this the way to break into our royal presence?"
+
+Simon approached up one side of the table and Aylward up the other. When
+they were close to the King, the man-at-arms plucked a torch from its
+socket and held it to his own face. The King staggered back with a cry,
+as he gazed at that grim visage.
+
+"Le diable noir!" he cried. "Simon, the Englishman! What make you here?"
+
+Simon put his hand upon his shoulder. "Sit here!" said he, and he forced
+the King into his seat. "Do you sit on the farther side of him, Aylward.
+We make a merry group, do we not? Often have I served at this table,
+but never did I hope to drink at it. Fill your cup, Samkin, and pass the
+flagon."
+
+The King looked from one to the other with terror in his bloodshot eyes.
+"What would you do?" he asked. "Are you mad, that you should come here.
+One shout and you are at my mercy."
+
+"Nay, my friend, I have lived too long in your house not to know the
+ways of it. No man-servant ever slept beneath your roof, for you feared
+lest your throat would be cut in the night-time. You may shout and
+shout, if it so please you. It chanced that I was passing on my way from
+England in those ships which lie off La Brechou, and I thought I would
+come in and have speech with you."
+
+"Indeed, Simon, I am right glad to see you," said the King, cringing
+away from the fierce eyes of the soldier. "We were good friends in the
+past, were we not, and I cannot call to mind that I have ever done you
+injury. When you made your way to England by swimming to the Levantine
+there was none more glad in heart than I!"
+
+"If I cared to doff my doublet I could show you the marks of what your
+friendship has done for me in the past," said Simon. "It is printed on
+my back as clearly as on my memory. Why, you foul dog, there are the
+very rings upon the wall to which my hands were fastened, and there the
+stains upon the boards on which my blood has dripped! Is it not so, you
+king of butchers?"
+
+The pirate chief turned whiter still. "It may be that life here was
+somewhat rough, Simon, but if I have wronged you in anyway, I will
+surely make amends. What do you ask?"
+
+"I ask only one thing, and I have come hither that I may get it. It is
+that you pay me forfeit for that you have lost your wager."
+
+"My wager, Simon! I call to mind no wager."
+
+"But I will call it to your mind, and then I will take my payment. Often
+have you sworn that you would break my courage. 'By my head!' you have
+cried to me. 'You will crawl at my feet!' and again: 'I will wager my
+head that I will tame you!' Yes, yes, a score of times you have said so.
+In my heart, as I listened, I have taken up your gage. And now, dog, you
+have lost and I am here to claim the forfeit."
+
+His long heavy sword flew from its sheath. The King, with a howl of
+despair, flung his arms round him, and they rolled together under the
+table. Aylward sat with a ghastly face, and his toes curled with horror
+at the sight, for he was still new to scenes of strife and his blood was
+too cold for such a deed. When Simon rose he tossed something into his
+bag and sheathed his bloody sword.
+
+"Come, Samkin, our work is well done," said he.
+
+"By my hilt, if I had known what it was I would have been less ready to
+come with you," said the archer. "Could you not have clapped a sword in
+his fist and let him take his chance in the hall?"
+
+"Nay, Samkin, if you had such memories as I, you would have wished that
+he should die like a sheep and not like a man. What chance did he give
+me when he had the power? And why should I treat him better? But, Holy
+Virgin, what have we here?"
+
+At the farther end of the table a woman was standing. An open door
+behind her showed that she had come from the inner room of the house.
+By her tall figure the comrades knew that she was the same that they had
+already seen. Her face had once been fair, but now was white and haggard
+with wild dark eyes full of a hopeless terror and despair. Slowly she
+paced up the room, her gaze fixed not upon the comrades, but upon the
+dreadful thing beneath the table. Then as she stooped and was sure she
+burst into loud laughter and clapped her hands.
+
+"Who shall say there is no God?" she cried. "Who shall say that prayer
+is unavailing? Great sir, brave sir, let me kiss that conquering hand!"
+
+"Nay, nay, dame, stand back! Well, if you must needs have one of them,
+take this which is the clean one."
+
+"It is the other I crave--that which is red with his blood! Oh! joyful
+night when my lips have been wet with it! Now I can die in peace!"
+
+"We must go, Aylward," said Simon. "In another hour the dawn will have
+broken. In daytime a rat could not cross this island and pass unseen.
+Come, man, and at once!"
+
+But Aylward was at the woman's side. "Come with us, fair dame," said he.
+"Surely we can, at least, take you from this island, and no such change
+can be for the worse."
+
+"Nay," said she, "the saints in Heaven cannot help me now until they
+take me to my rest. There is no place for me in the world beyond, and
+all my friends were slain on the day I was taken. Leave me, brave men,
+and let me care for myself. Already it lightens in the east, and black
+will be your fate if you are taken. Go, and may the blessing of one who
+was once a holy nun go with you and guard you from danger!"
+
+Sir Robert Knolles was pacing the deck in the early morning, when he
+heard the sound of oars, and there were his two night-birds climbing up
+the side.
+
+"So, fellow," said he, "have you had speech with the King of Sark?"
+
+"Fair sir, I have seen him."
+
+"And he has paid his forfeit?"
+
+"He has paid it, sir!"
+
+Knolles looked with curiosity at the bag which Simon bore. "What carry
+you there?" he asked.
+
+"The stake that he has lost."
+
+"What was it then? A goblet? A silver plate?"
+
+For answer Simon opened his bag and shook it on the deck.
+
+Sir Robert turned away with a whistle. "'Fore God!" said he, "it is in
+my mind that I carry some hard men with me to Brittany."
+
+
+
+
+XIX. HOW A SQUIRE OF ENGLAND MET A SQUIRE OF FRANCE
+
+
+Sir Robert Knolles with his little fleet had sighted the Breton coast
+near Cancale; they had rounded the Point du Grouin, and finally had
+sailed past the port of St. Malo and down the long narrow estuary of the
+Rance until they were close to the old walled city of Dinan, which was
+held by that Montfort faction whose cause the English had espoused. Here
+the horses had been disembarked, the stores were unloaded, and the whole
+force encamped outside the city, whilst the leaders waited for news as
+to the present state of affairs, and where there was most hope of honor
+and profit.
+
+The whole of France was feeling the effects of that war with England
+which had already lasted some ten years, but no Province was in so
+dreadful a condition as this unhappy land of Brittany. In Normandy or
+Picardy the inroads of the English were periodical with intervals of
+rest between; but Brittany was torn asunder by constant civil war apart
+from the grapple of the two great combatants, so that there was no
+surcease of her sufferings. The struggle had begun in 1341 through the
+rival claims of Montfort and of Blois to the vacant dukedom. England had
+taken the part of Montfort, France that of Blois. Neither faction was
+strong enough to destroy the other, and so after ten years of continual
+fighting, history recorded a long ineffectual list of surprises and
+ambushes, of raids and skirmishes, of towns taken and retaken, of
+alternate victory and defeat, in which neither party could claim
+a supremacy. It mattered nothing that Montfort and Blois had both
+disappeared from the scene, the one dead and the other taken by the
+English. Their wives caught up the swords which had dropped from the
+hands of their lords, and the long struggle went on even more savagely
+than before.
+
+In the south and east the Blois faction held the country, and Nantes
+the capital was garrisoned and occupied by a strong French army. In the
+north and west the Montfort party prevailed, for the island kingdom was
+at their back and always fresh sails broke the northern sky-line bearing
+adventurers from over the channel.
+
+Between these two there lay a broad zone comprising all the center
+of the country which was a land of blood and violence, where no law
+prevailed save that of the sword. From end to end it was dotted with
+castles, some held for one side, some for the other, and many mere
+robber strongholds, the scenes of gross and monstrous deeds, whose brute
+owners, knowing that they could never be called to account, made war
+upon all mankind, and wrung with rack and with flame the last shilling
+from all who fell into their savage hands. The fields had long been
+untilled. Commerce was dead. From Rennes in the east to Hennebon in the
+west, and from Dinan in the north to Nantes in the south, there was no
+spot where a man's life or a woman's honor was safe. Such was the land,
+full of darkness and blood, the saddest, blackest spot in Christendom,
+into which Knolles and his men were now advancing.
+
+But there was no sadness in the young heart of Nigel, as he rode by the
+side of Knolles at the head of a clump of spears, nor did it seem to him
+that Fate had led him into an unduly arduous path. On the contrary,
+he blessed the good fortune which had sent him into so delightful a
+country, and it seemed to him as he listened to dreadful stories of
+robber barons, and looked round at the black scars of war which lay
+branded upon the fair faces of the hills, that no hero of romances or
+trouveur had ever journeyed through such a land of promise, with so fair
+a chance of knightly venture and honorable advancement.
+
+The Red Ferret was one deed toward his vow. Surely a second, and perhaps
+a better, was to be found somewhere upon this glorious countryside.
+He had borne himself as the others had in the sea-fight, and could
+not count it to his credit where he had done no more than mere duty.
+Something beyond this was needed for such a deed as could be laid at the
+feet of the Lady Mary. But surely it was to be found here in fermenting
+war-distracted Brittany. Then with two done it would be strange if he
+could not find occasion for that third one, which would complete his
+service and set him free to look her in the face once more. With the
+great yellow horse curveting beneath him, his Guildford armor gleaming
+in the sun, his sword clanking against his stirrup-iron, and his
+father's tough ash-spear in his hand, he rode with a light heart and a
+smiling face, looking eagerly to right and to left for any chance which
+his good Fate might send.
+
+The road from Dinan to Caulnes, along which the small army was moving,
+rose and dipped over undulating ground, with a bare marshy plain upon
+the left where the river Rance ran down to the sea, while upon the right
+lay a wooded country with a few wretched villages, so poor and sordid
+that they had nothing with which to tempt the spoiler. The peasants had
+left them at the first twinkle of a steel cap, and lurked at the edges
+of the woods, ready in an instant to dive into those secret recesses
+known only to themselves. These creatures suffered sorely at the hands
+of both parties, but when the chance came they revenged their wrongs on
+either in a savage way which brought fresh brutalities upon their heads.
+
+The new-comers soon had a chance of seeing to what lengths they would
+go, for in the roadway near to Caulnes they came upon an English
+man-at-arms who had been waylaid and slain by them. How they had
+overcome him could not be told, but how they had slain him within his
+armor was horribly apparent, for they had carried such a rock as eight
+men could lift, and had dropped it upon him as he lay, so that he was
+spread out in his shattered case like a crab beneath a stone. Many a
+fist was shaken at the distant woods and many a curse hurled at those
+who haunted them, as the column of scowling soldiers passed the murdered
+man, whose badge of the Molene cross showed him to have been a follower
+of that House of Bentley, whose head, Sir Walter, was at that time
+leader of the British forces in the country.
+
+Sir Robert Knolles had served in Brittany before, and he marshaled his
+men on the march with the skill and caution of the veteran soldier, the
+man who leaves as little as possible to chance, having too steadfast a
+mind to heed the fool who may think him overcautious. He had recruited a
+number of bowmen and men-at-arms at Dinan; so that his following was
+now close upon five hundred men. In front under his own leadership were
+fifty mounted lancers, fully armed and ready for any sudden attack.
+Behind them on foot came the archers, and a second body of mounted men
+closed up the rear. Out upon either flank moved small bodies of cavalry,
+and a dozen scouts, spread fanwise, probed every gorge and dingle in
+front of the column. So for three days he moved slowly down the Southern
+Road.
+
+Sir Thomas Percy and Sir James Astley had ridden to the head of the
+column, and Knolles conferred with them as they marched concerning the
+plan of their campaign. Percy and Astley were young and hot-headed with
+wild visions of dashing deeds and knight errantry, but Knolles with
+cold, clear brain and purpose of iron held ever his object in view.
+
+"By the holy Dunstan and all the saints of Lindisfarne!" cried the
+fiery Borderer, "it goes to my heart to ride forward when there are such
+honorable chances on either side of us. Have I not heard that the French
+are at Evran beyond the river, and is it not sooth that yonder castle,
+the towers of which I see above the woods, is in the hands of a traitor,
+who is false to his liege lord of Montford? There is little profit to be
+gained upon this road, for the folk seem to have no heart for war.
+Had we ventured as far over the marches of Scotland as we now are in
+Brittany, we should not have lacked some honorable venture or chance of
+winning worship."
+
+"You say truth, Thomas," cried Astley, a red-faced and choleric young
+man. "It is well certain that the French will not come to us, and surely
+it is the more needful that we go to them. In sooth, any soldier who
+sees us would smile that we should creep for three days along this road
+as though a thousand dangers lay before us, when we have but poor broken
+peasants to deal with."
+
+But Robert Knolles shook his head. "We know not what are in these woods,
+or behind these hills," said he, "and when I know nothing it is my wont
+to prepare for the worst which may befall. It is but prudence so to do."
+
+"Your enemies might find some harsher name for it," said Astley with
+a sneer. "Nay, you need not think to scare me by glaring at me, Sir
+Robert, nor will your ill-pleasure change my thoughts. I have faced
+fiercer eyes than thine, and I have not feared."
+
+"Your speech, Sir James, is neither courteous nor good," said Knolles,
+"and if I were a free man I would cram your words down your throat with
+the point of my dagger. But I am here to lead these men in profit and
+honor, not to quarrel with every fool who has not the wit to understand
+how soldiers should be led. Can you not see that if I make attempts here
+and there, as you would have me do, I shall have weakened my strength
+before I come to that part where it can best be spent?"
+
+"And where is that?" asked Percy. "'Fore God, Astley, it is in my mind
+that we ride with one who knows more of war than you or I, and that we
+would be wise to be guided by his rede. Tell us then what is in your
+mind."
+
+"Thirty miles from here," said Knolles, "there is, as I am told, a
+fortalice named Ploermel, and within it is one Bambro', an Englishman,
+with a good garrison. No great distance from him is the Castle of
+Josselin where dwells Robert of Beaumanoir with a great following of
+Bretons. It is my intention that we should join Bambro', and so be in
+such strength that we may throw ourselves upon Josselin, and by taking
+it become the masters of all mid-Brittany, and able to make head against
+the Frenchmen in the south."
+
+"Indeed I think that you can do no better," said Percy heartily, "and
+I swear to you on jeopardy of my soul that I will stand by you in the
+matter! I doubt not that when we come deep into their land they will
+draw together and do what they may to make head against us; but up to
+now I swear by all the saints of Lindisfarne that I should have seen
+more war in a summer's day in Liddesdale or at the Forest of Jedburgh
+than any that Brittany has shown us. But see, yonder horsemen are riding
+in. They are our own hobblers, are they not? And who are these who are
+lashed to their stirrups?"
+
+A small troop of mounted bowmen had ridden out of an oak grove upon the
+left of the road. They trotted up to where the three knights had halted.
+Two wretched peasants whose wrists had been tied to their leathers
+came leaping and straining beside the horses in their effort not to be
+dragged off their feet. One was a tall, gaunt, yellow-haired man, the
+other short and swarthy, but both so crusted with dirt, so matted and
+tangled and ragged, that they were more like beasts of the wood than
+human beings.
+
+"What is this?" asked Knolles. "Have I not ordered you to leave the
+countryfolk at peace?"
+
+The leader of the archers, old Wat of Carlisle, held up a sword, a
+girdle and a dagger. "If it please you, fair sir," said he, "I saw the
+glint of these, and I thought them no fit tools for hands which were
+made for the spade and the plow. But when we had ridden them down and
+taken them, there was the Bentley cross upon each, and we knew that they
+had belonged to yonder dead Englishman upon the road. Surely then, these
+are two of the villains who have slain him, and it is right that we do
+justice upon them."
+
+Sure enough, upon sword, girdle and dagger shone the silver Molene cross
+which had gleamed on the dead man's armor. Knolles looked at them and
+then at the prisoners with a face of stone. At the sight of those
+fell eyes they had dropped with inarticulate howls upon their knees,
+screaming out their protests in a tongue which none could understand.
+
+"We must have the roads safe for wandering Englishmen," said Knolles.
+"These men must surely die. Hang them to yonder tree."
+
+He pointed to a live-oak by the roadside, and rode onward upon his way
+in converse with his fellow-knights. But the old bowman had ridden after
+him.
+
+"If it please you, Sir Robert, the bowmen would fain put these men to
+death in their own fashion," said he.
+
+"So that they die, I care not how," Knolles answered carelessly, and
+looked back no more.
+
+Human life was cheap in those stern days when the footmen of a stricken
+army or the crew of a captured ship were slain without any question or
+thought of mercy by the victors. War was a rude game with death for the
+stake, and the forfeit was always claimed on the one side and paid on
+the other without doubt or hesitation. Only the knight might be spared,
+since his ransom made him worth more alive than dead. To men trained in
+such a school, with death forever hanging over their own heads, it may
+be well believed that the slaying of two peasant murderers was a small
+matter.
+
+And yet there was special reason why upon this occasion the bowmen
+wished to keep the deed in their own hands. Ever since their dispute
+aboard the Basilisk, there had been ill-feeling betwixt Bartholomew the
+old bald-headed bowyer, and long Ned Widdington the Dalesman, which had
+ended in a conflict at Dinan, in which not only they, but a dozen of
+their friends had been laid upon the cobble-stones. The dispute raged
+round their respective knowledge and skill with the bow, and now some
+quick wit amongst the soldiers had suggested a grim fashion in which
+it should be put to the proof, once for all, which could draw the surer
+shaft.
+
+A thick wood lay two hundred paces from the road upon which the archers
+stood. A stretch of smooth grassy sward lay between. The two peasants
+were led out fifty yards from the road, with their faces toward the
+wood. There they stood, held on a leash, and casting many a wondering
+frightened glance over their shoulders at the preparations which were
+being made behind them.
+
+Old Bartholomew and the big Yorkshireman had stepped out of the ranks
+and stood side by side each with his strung bow in his left hand and a
+single arrow in his right. With care they had drawn on and greased their
+shooting-gloves and fastened their bracers. They plucked and cast up a
+few blades of grass to measure the wind, examined every small point of
+their tackle, turned their sides to the mark, and widened their feet
+in a firmer stance. From all sides came chaff and counsel from their
+comrades.
+
+"A three-quarter wind, bowyer!" cried one. "Aim a body's breadth to the
+right!"
+
+"But not thy body's breadth, bowyer," laughed another. "Else may you be
+overwide."
+
+"Nay, this wind will scarce turn a well-drawn shaft," said a third.
+"Shoot dead upon him and you will be clap in the clout."
+
+"Steady, Ned, for the good name of the Dales," cried a Yorkshireman.
+"Loose easy and pluck not, or I am five crowns the poorer man."
+
+"A week's pay on Bartholomew!" shouted another. "Now, old fat-pate, fail
+me not!"
+
+"Enough, enough! Stint your talk!" cried the old bowman, Wat of
+Carlisle. "Were your shafts as quick as your tongues there would be no
+facing you. Do you shoot upon the little one, Bartholomew, and you, Ned,
+upon the other. Give them law until I cry the word, then loose in your
+own fashion and at your own time. Are you ready! Hola, there, Hayward,
+Beddington, let them run!"
+
+The leashes were torn away, and the two men, stooping their heads, ran
+madly for the shelter of the wood amid such a howl from the archers as
+beaters may give when the hare starts from its form. The two bowmen,
+each with his arrow drawn to the pile, stood like russet statues,
+menacing, motionless, their eager eyes fixed upon the fugitives, their
+bow-staves rising slowly as the distance between them lengthened. The
+Bretons were half-way to the wood, and still Old Wat was silent. It may
+have been mercy or it may have been mischief, but at least the chase
+should have a fair chance of life. At six score paces he turned his
+grizzled head at last.
+
+"Loose!" he cried.
+
+At the word the Yorkshireman's bow-string twanged. It was not for
+nothing that he had earned the name of being one of the deadliest
+archers of the North and had twice borne away the silver arrow of Selby.
+Swift and true flew the fatal shaft and buried itself to the feather in
+the curved back of the long yellow-haired peasant. Without a sound he
+fell upon his face and lay stone-dead upon the grass, the one short
+white plume between his dark shoulders to mark where Death had smote
+him.
+
+The Yorkshireman threw his bowstave into the air and danced in triumph,
+whilst his comrades roared their fierce delight in a shout of applause,
+which changed suddenly into a tempest of hooting and of laughter.
+
+The smaller peasant, more cunning, than his comrade, had run more
+slowly, but with many a backward glance. He had marked his companion's
+fate and had waited with keen eyes until he saw the bowyer loose his
+string. At the moment he had thrown himself flat upon the grass and
+had heard the arrow scream above him,--and seen it quiver in the turf
+beyond. Instantly he had sprung to his feet again and amid wild whoops
+and halloos from the bowmen had made for the shelter of the wood. Now he
+had reached it, and ten score good paces separated him from the nearest
+of his persecutors. Surely they could not reach him here. With the
+tangled brushwood behind him he was as safe as a rabbit at the mouth of
+his burrow. In the joy of his heart he must needs dance in derision and
+snap his fingers at the foolish men who had let him slip. He threw back
+his head, howling at them like a dog, and at the instant an arrow struck
+him full in the throat and laid him dead among the bracken. There was a
+hush of surprised silence and then a loud cheer burst from the archers.
+
+"By the rood of Beverley!" cried old Wat, "I have not seen a finer
+roving shaft this many a year. In my own best day I could not have
+bettered it. Which of you loosed it?"
+
+"It was Aylward of Tilford--Samkin Aylward," cried a score of voices,
+and the bowman, flushed at his own fame, was pushed to the front.
+
+"Indeed I would that it had been at a nobler mark," said he. "He might
+have gone free for me, but I could not keep my fingers from the string
+when he turned to jeer at us."
+
+"I see well that you are indeed a master-bowman," said old Wat, "and it
+is comfort to my soul to think that if I fall I leave such a man behind
+me to hold high the credit of our craft. Now gather your shafts and on,
+for Sir Robert awaits us on the brow of the hill."
+
+All day Knolles and his men marched through the same wild and deserted
+country, inhabited only by these furtive creatures, hares to the strong
+and wolves to the weak, who hovered in the shadows of the wood. Ever and
+anon upon the tops of the hills they caught a glimpse of horsemen who
+watched them from a distance and vanished when approached. Sometimes
+bells rang an alarm from villages amongst the hills, and twice they
+passed castles which drew up their drawbridges at their approach and
+lined their walls with hooting soldiers as they passed. The Englishmen
+gathered a few oxen and sheep from the pastures of each, but Knolles had
+no mind to break his strength upon stone walls, and so he went upon his
+way.
+
+Once at St. Meen they passed a great nunnery, girt with a high gray
+lichened wall, an oasis of peace in this desert of war, the black-robed
+nuns basking in the sun or working in the gardens, with the strong
+gentle hand of Holy Church shielding them ever from evil. The archers
+doffed caps to them as they passed, for the boldest and roughest dared
+not cross that line guarded by the dire ban and blight which was the one
+only force in the whole steel-ridden earth which could stand betwixt the
+weakling and the spoiler.
+
+The little army halted at St. Meen and cooked its midday meal. It had
+gathered into its ranks again and was about to start, when Knolles drew
+Nigel to one side.
+
+"Nigel," said he, "it seems to me that I have seldom set eyes upon a
+horse which hath more power and promise of speed than this great beast
+of thine."
+
+"It is indeed a noble steed, fair sir," said Nigel. Betwixt him and his
+young leader there had sprung up great affection and respect since the
+day that they set foot in the Basilisk.
+
+"It will be the better if you stretch his limbs, for he grows
+overheavy," said the knight. "Now mark me, Nigel! Yonder betwixt the
+ash-tree and the red rock what do you see on the side of the far hill?"
+
+"There is a white dot upon it. Surely it is a horse."
+
+"I have marked it all morning, Nigel. This horseman has kept ever upon
+our flank, spying upon us or waiting to make some attempt upon us. Now
+I should be right glad to have a prisoner, for it is my wish to know
+something of this country-side, and these peasants can speak neither
+French nor English. I would have you linger here in hiding when we go
+forward. This man will still follow us. When he does so, yonder wood
+will lie betwixt you and him. Do you ride round it and come upon him
+from behind. There is broad plain upon his left, and we will cut him
+off upon the right. If your horse be indeed the swifter, then you cannot
+fail to take him."
+
+Nigel had already sprung down and was tightening Pommers' girth.
+
+"Nay, there is no need of haste, for you cannot start until we are
+two miles upon our way. And above all I pray you, Nigel, none of your
+knight-errant ways. It is this roan that I want, him and the news that
+he can bring me. Think little of your own advancement and much of the
+needs of the army. When you get him, ride westwards upon the sun, and
+you cannot fail to find the road."
+
+Nigel waited with Pommers under the shadow of the nunnery wall, horse
+and man chafing with impatience, whilst above them six round-eyed
+innocent nun-faces looked down on this strange and disturbing vision
+from the outer world. At last the long column wound itself out of sight
+round a curve of the road, and the white dot was gone from the bare
+green flank of the hill. Nigel bowed his steel head to the nuns, gave
+his bridle a shake, and bounded off upon his welcome mission. The
+round-eyed sisters saw yellow horse and twinkling man sweep round the
+skirt of the wood, caught a last glimmer of him through the tree-trunks,
+and paced slowly back to their pruning and their planting, their minds
+filled with the beauty and the terror of that outer world beyond the
+high gray lichen-mottled wall.
+
+Everything fell out even as Knolles had planned. As Nigel rounded the
+oak forest, there upon the farther side of it, with only good greensward
+between, was the rider upon the white horse. Already he was so near that
+Nigel could see him clearly, a young cavalier, proud in his bearing,
+clad in purple silk tunic with a red curling feather in his low black
+cap. He wore no armor, but his sword gleamed at his side. He rode easily
+and carelessly, as one who cares for no man, and his eyes were forever
+fixed upon the English soldiers on the road. So intent was he upon them
+that he gave no thought to his own safety, and it was only when the low
+thunder of the great horse's hoofs broke upon his ears that he turned in
+his saddle, looked very coolly and steadily at Nigel, then gave his own
+bridle a shake and darted off, swift as a hawk, toward the hills upon
+the left.
+
+Pommers had met his match that day. The white horse, two parts Arab,
+bore the lighter weight, since Nigel was clad in full armor. For five
+miles over the open neither gained a hundred yards upon the other.
+They had topped the hill and flew down the farther side, the stranger
+continually turning in his saddle to have a look at his pursuer. There
+was no panic in his flight, but rather the amused rivalry with which
+a good horseman who is proud of his mount contends with one who has
+challenged him. Below the hill was a marshy plain, studded with great
+Druidic stones, some prostrate, some erect, some bearing others across
+their tops like the huge doors of some vanished building. A path ran
+through the marsh with green rushes as a danger signal on either side of
+it. Across this path many of the huge stones were lying, but the white
+horse cleared them in its stride and Pommers followed close upon his
+heels. Then came a mile of soft ground where the lighter weight again
+drew to the front, but it ended in a dry upland and once again Nigel
+gained. A sunken road crossed it, but the white cleared it with a mighty
+spring, and again the yellow followed. Two small hills lay before them
+with a narrow gorge of deep bushes between. Nigel saw the white horse
+bounding chest-deep amid the underwood.
+
+Next instant its hind legs were high in the air, and the rider had been
+shot from its back. A howl of triumph rose from amidst the bushes, and
+a dozen wild figures armed with club and with spear, rushed upon the
+prostrate man.
+
+"A moi, Anglais, a moi!" cried a voice, and Nigel saw the young rider
+stagger to his feet, strike round him with his sword, and then fall once
+more before the rush of his assailants.
+
+There was a comradeship among men of gentle blood and bearing which
+banded them together against all ruffianly or unchivalrous attack. These
+rude fellows were no soldiers. Their dress and arms, their uncouth cries
+and wild assault, marked them as banditti--such men as had slain the
+Englishman upon the road. Waiting in narrow gorges with a hidden rope
+across the path, they watched for the lonely horseman as a fowler waits
+by his bird-trap, trusting that they could overthrow the steed and then
+slay the rider ere he had recovered from his fall.
+
+Such would have been the fate of the stranger, as of so many cavaliers
+before him, had Nigel not chanced to be close upon his heels. In an
+instant Pommers had burst through the group who struck at the prostrate
+man, and in another two of the robbers had fallen before Nigel's sword.
+A spear rang on his breastplate, but one blow shore off its head, and
+a second that of him who held it. In vain they thrust at the steel-girt
+man. His sword played round them like lightning, and the fierce horse
+ramped and swooped above them with pawing iron-shod hoofs and eyes of
+fire. With cries and shrieks they flew off to right and left amidst
+the bushes, springing over boulders and darting under branches where
+no horseman could follow them. The foul crew had gone as swiftly and
+suddenly as it had come, and save for four ragged figures littered
+amongst the trampled bushes, no sign remaining of their passing.
+
+Nigel tethered Pommers to a thorn-bush and then turned his attention
+to the injured man. The white horse had regained his feet and stood
+whinnying gently as he looked down on his prostrate master. A heavy
+blow, half broken by his sword, had beaten him down and left a great raw
+bruise upon his forehead. But a stream gurgled through the gorge, and
+a capful of water dashed over his face brought the senses back to the
+injured man. He was a mere stripling, with the delicate features of a
+woman, and a pair of great violet-blue eyes which looked up presently
+with a puzzled stare into Nigel's face.
+
+"Who are you?" he asked. "Ah yes! I call you to mind. You are the young
+Englishman who chased me on the great yellow horse. By our Lady of
+Rocamadour whose vernicle is round my neck! I could not have believed
+that any horse could have kept at the heels of Charlemagne so long. But
+I will wager you a hundred crowns, Englishman, that I lead you over a
+five-mile course."
+
+"Nay," said Nigel, "we will wait till you can back a horse ere we talk
+of racing it. I am Nigel of Tilford, of the family of Loring, a squire
+by rank and the son of a knight. How are you called, young sir?"
+
+"I also am a squire by rank and the son of a knight. I am Raoul de la
+Roche Pierre de Bras, whose father writes himself Lord of Grosbois, a
+free vavasor of the noble Count of Toulouse, with the right of fossa
+and of furca, the high justice, the middle and the low." He sat up and
+rubbed his eyes. "Englishman, you have saved my life as I would have
+saved yours, had I seen such yelping dogs set upon a man of blood and of
+coat-armor. But now I am yours, and what is your sweet will?"
+
+"When you are fit to ride, you will come back with me to my people."
+
+"Alas! I feared that you would say so. Had I taken you, Nigel--that is
+your name, is it not?--had I taken you, I would not have acted thus."
+
+"How then would you have ordered things?" asked Nigel, much taken with
+the frank and debonair manner of his captive.
+
+"I would not have taken advantage of such a mischance as has befallen me
+which has put me in your power. I would give you a sword and beat you
+in fair fight, so that I might send you to give greeting to my dear lady
+and show her the deeds which I do for her fair sake."
+
+"Indeed, your words are both good and fair," said Nigel. "By Saint
+Paul! I cannot call to mind that I have ever met a man who bore himself
+better. But since I am in my armor and you without, I see not how we can
+debate the matter."
+
+"Surely, gentle Nigel, you could doff your armor."
+
+"Then have I only my underclothes."
+
+"Nay, there shall be no unfairness there, for I also will very gladly
+strip to my underclothes."
+
+Nigel looked wistfully at the Frenchman; but he shook his head. "Alas!
+it may not be," said he. "The last words that Sir Robert said to me were
+that I was to bring you to his side, for he would have speech with you.
+Would that I could do what you ask, for I also have a fair lady to
+whom I would fain send you. What use are you to me, Raoul, since I have
+gained no honor in the taking of you? How is it with you now?"
+
+The young Frenchman had risen to his feet. "Do not take my sword," he
+said. "I am yours, rescue or no rescue. I think now that I could mount
+my horse, though indeed my head still rings like a cracked bell."
+
+Nigel had lost all traces of his comrades; but he remembered Sir
+Robert's words that he should ride upon the sun with the certainty that
+sooner or later he would strike upon the road. As they jogged slowly
+along over undulating hills, the Frenchman shook off his hurt and the
+two chatted merrily together.
+
+"I had but just come from France," said he, "and I had hoped to win
+honor in this country, for I have ever heard that the English are very
+hardy men and excellent people to fight with. My mules and my baggage
+are at Evran; but I rode forth to see what I could see, and I chanced
+upon your army moving down the road, so I coasted it in the hopes of
+some profit or adventure. Then you came after me and I would have given
+all the gold goblets upon my father's table if I had my harness so that
+I could have turned upon you. I have promised the Countess Beatrice that
+I will send her an Englishman or two to kiss her hands."
+
+"One might perchance have a worse fate," said Nigel. "Is this fair dame
+your betrothed?"
+
+"She is my love," answered the Frenchman. "We are but waiting for the
+Count to be slain in the wars, and then we mean to marry. And this lady
+of thine, Nigel? I would that I could see her."
+
+"Perchance you shall, fair sir," said Nigel, "for all that I have seen
+of you fills me with desire to go further with you. It is in my mind
+that we might turn this thing to profit and to honor, for when Sir
+Robert has spoken with you, I am free to do with you as I will."
+
+"And what will you do, Nigel?"
+
+"We shall surely try some small deed upon each other, so that either I
+shall see the Lady Beatrice, or you the Lady Mary. Nay, thank me not,
+for like yourself, I have come to this country in search of honor, and I
+know not where I may better find it than at the end of your sword-point.
+My good lord and master, Sir John Chandos, has told me many times that
+never yet did he meet French knight nor squire that he did not find
+great pleasure and profit from their company, and now I very clearly see
+that he has spoken the truth."
+
+For an hour these two friends rode together, the Frenchman pouring forth
+the praises of his lady, whose glove he produced from one pocket, her
+garter from his vest, and her shoe from his saddle-bag. She was blond,
+and when he heard that Mary was dark, he would fain stop then and there
+to fight the question of color. He talked too of his great chateau at
+Lauta, by the head waters of the pleasant Garonne; of the hundred horses
+in the stables, the seventy hounds in the kennels, the fifty hawks in
+the mews. His English friend should come there when the wars were
+over, and what golden days would be theirs! Nigel too, with his English
+coldness thawing before this young sunbeam of the South, found himself
+talking of the heather <DW72>s of Surrey, of the forest of Woolmer, even
+of the sacred chambers of Cosford.
+
+But as they rode onward towards the sinking sun, their thoughts far away
+in their distant homes, their horses striding together, there came that
+which brought their minds back in an instant to the perilous hillsides
+of Brittany.
+
+It was the long blast of a trumpet blown from somewhere on the farther
+side of a ridge toward which they were riding. A second long-drawn note
+from a distance answered it.
+
+"It is your camp," said the Frenchman.
+
+"Nay," said Nigel; "we have pipes with us and a naker or two, but I have
+heard no trumpet-call from our ranks. It behooves us to take heed, for
+we know not what may be before us. Ride this way, I pray you, that we
+may look over and yet be ourselves unseen."
+
+Some scattered boulders crowned the height, and from behind them the two
+young Squires could see the long rocky valley beyond. Upon a knoll was a
+small square building with a battlement round it. Some distance from it
+towered a great dark castle, as massive as the rocks on which it stood,
+with one strong keep at the corner, and four long lines of machicolated
+walls. Above, a great banner flew proudly in the wind, with some device
+which glowed red in the setting sun. Nigel shaded his eyes and stared
+with wrinkled brow.
+
+"It is not the arms of England, nor yet the lilies of France, nor is it
+the ermine of Brittany," said he. "He who holds this castle fights for
+his own hand, since his own device flies above it. Surely it is a head
+gules on an argent field."
+
+"The bloody head on a silver tray!" cried the Frenchman. "Was I not
+warned against him? This is not a man, friend Nigel. It is a monster who
+wars upon English, French and all Christendom. Have you not heard of the
+Butcher of La Brohiniere?"
+
+"Nay, I have not heard of him."
+
+"His name is accursed in France. Have I not been told also that he
+put to death this very year Gilles de St. Pol, a friend of the English
+King?"
+
+"Yes, in very truth it comes back to my mind now that I heard something
+of this matter in Calais before we started."
+
+"Then there he dwells, and God guard you if ever you pass under yonder
+portal, for no prisoner has ever come forth alive! Since these wars
+began he hath been a king to himself, and the plunder of eleven years
+lies in yonder cellars. How can justice come to him, when no man knows
+who owns the land? But when we have packed you all back to your island,
+by the Blessed Mother of God, we have a heavy debt to pay to the man who
+dwells in yonder pile!"
+
+But even as they watched, the trumpet-call burst forth once more. It
+came not from the castle but from the farther end of the valley. It was
+answered by a second call from the walls. Then in a long, straggling
+line there came a wild troop of marauders streaming homeward from some
+foray. In the van, at the head of a body of spearmen, rode a tall and
+burly man, clad in brazen armor, so that he shone like a golden image
+in the slanting rays of the sun. His helmet had been loosened from his
+gorget and was held before him on his horse's neck. A great tangled
+beard flowed over his breastplate, and his hair hung down as far behind.
+A squire at his elbow bore high the banner of the bleeding head. Behind
+the spearmen were a line of heavily laden mules, and on either side
+of them a drove of poor country folk, who were being herded into the
+castle. Lastly came a second strong troop of mounted spearmen, who
+conducted a score or more of prisoners who marched together in a solid
+body.
+
+Nigel stared at them and then, springing on his horse, he urged it along
+the shelter of the ridge so as to reach unseen a spot which was close
+to the castle gate. He had scarce taken up his new position when the
+cavalcade reached the drawbridge, and amid yells of welcome from those
+upon the wall, filed in a thin line across it. Nigel stared hard once
+more at the prisoners in the rear, and so absorbed was he by the sight
+that he had passed the rocks and was standing sheer upon the summit.
+
+"By Saint Paul!" he cried, "it must indeed be so. I see their russet
+jackets. They are English archers!"
+
+As he spoke, the hindmost one, a strongly built, broad-shouldered man,
+looked round and saw the gleaming figure above him upon the hill, with
+open helmet, and the five roses glowing upon his breast. With a sweep of
+his hands he had thrust his guardians aside and for a moment was clear
+of the throng.
+
+"Squire Loring! Squire Loring!" he cried. "It is I, Aylward the archer!
+It is I, Samkin Aylward!" The next minute a dozen hands had seized him,
+his cries were muffled with a gag, and he was hurled, the last of the
+band, through the black and threatening archway of the gate. Then with a
+clang the two iron wings came together, the portcullis swung upward, and
+captives and captors, robbers and booty, were all swallowed up within
+the grim and silent fortress.
+
+
+
+
+XX. HOW THE ENGLISH ATTEMPTED THE CASTLE OF LA BROHINIERE
+
+
+For some minutes Nigel remained motionless upon the crest of the hill,
+his heart, like lead within him, and his eyes fixed upon the huge
+gray walls which contained his unhappy henchman. He was roused by a
+sympathetic hand upon his shoulder and the voice of his young prisoner
+in his ear.
+
+"Peste!" said he. "They have some of your birds in their cage, have they
+not? What then, my friend? Keep your heart high! Is it not the chance
+of war, to-day to them, to-morrow to thee, and death at last for us all?
+And yet I had rather they were in any hands than those of Oliver the
+Butcher."
+
+"By Saint Paul, we cannot suffer it!" cried Nigel distractedly. "This
+man has come with me from my own home. He has stood between me and death
+before now. It goes to my very heart that he should call upon me in
+vain. I pray you, Raoul, to use your wits, for mine are all curdled in
+my head. Tell me what I should do and how I may bring him help."
+
+The Frenchman shrugged his shoulders. "As easy to get a lamb unscathed
+out of a wolves' lair as a prisoner safe from La Brohiniere. Nay, Nigel,
+whither do you go? Have you indeed taken leave of your wits?"
+
+The Squire had spurred his horse down the hillside and never halted
+until he was within a bowshot of the gate. The French prisoner followed
+hard behind him, with a buzz of reproaches and expostulations.
+
+"You are mad, Nigel!" he cried. "What do you hope to do then? Would you
+carry the castle with your own hands? Halt, man, halt, in the name of
+the Virgin!"
+
+But Nigel had no plan in his head and only obeyed the fevered impulse
+to do something to ease his thoughts. He paced his horse up and down,
+waving his spear, and shouting insults and challenges to the garrison.
+Over the high wall a hundred jeering faces looked down upon him. So
+rash and wild was his action that it seemed to those within to mean some
+trap, so the drawbridge was still held high and none ventured forth to
+seize him. A few long-range arrows pattered on the rocks, and then with
+a deep booming sound a huge stone, hurled from a mangonel, sang over the
+head of the two Squires and crushed into splinters amongst the boulders
+behind them. The Frenchman seized Nigel's bridle and forced him farther
+from the gateway.
+
+"By the dear Virgin!" he cried, "I care not to have those pebbles about
+my ears, yet I cannot go back alone, so it is very clear, my crazy
+comrade, that you must come also. Now we are beyond their reach! But
+see, my friend Nigel, who are those who crown the height?"
+
+The sun had sunk behind the western ridge, but the glowing sky was
+fringed at its lower edge by a score of ruddy twinkling points. A body
+of horsemen showed hard and black upon the bare hill. Then they dipped
+down the <DW72> into the valley, whilst a band of footmen followed
+behind.
+
+"They are my people," cried Nigel joyously. "Come, my friend, hasten,
+that we may take counsel what we shall do."
+
+Sir Robert Knolles rode a bowshot in front of his men, and his brow
+was as black as night. Beside him, with crestfallen face, his horse
+bleeding, his armor dinted and soiled, was the hot-headed knight, Sir
+James Astley. A fierce discussion raged between them.
+
+"I have done my devoir as best I might," said Astley. "Alone I had ten
+of them at my sword-point. I know not how I have lived to tell it."
+
+"What is your devoir to me? Where are my thirty bowmen?" cried Knolles
+in bitter wrath. "Ten lie dead upon the ground and twenty are worse than
+dead in yonder castle. And all because you must needs show all men how
+bold you are, and ride into a bushment such as a child could see. Alas
+for my own folly that ever I should have trusted such a one as you with
+the handling of men!"
+
+"By God, Sir Robert, you shall answer to me for those words!" cried
+Astley with a choking voice. "Never has a man dared to speak to me as
+you have done this day."
+
+"As long as I hold the King's order I shall be master, and by the Lord I
+will hang you, James, on a near tree if I have further cause of offense!
+How now, Nigel? I see by yonder white horse that you at least have not
+failed me. I will speak with you anon. Percy, bring up your men, and let
+us gather round this castle, for, as I hope for my soul's salvation, I
+win not leave it until I have my archers, or the head of him who holds
+them."
+
+That night the English lay thick round the fortress of La Brohiniere so
+that none might come forth from it. But if none could come forth it was
+hard to see how any could win their way in, for it was full of men, the
+walls were high and strong, and a deep dry ditch girt it round. But the
+hatred and fear which its master had raised over the whole country-side
+could now be plainly seen, for during the night the brushwood men and
+the villagers came in from all parts with offers of such help as they
+could give for the intaking of the castle. Knolles set them cutting
+bushes and tying them into fagots. When morning came he rode out before
+the wall and he held counsel with his knights and squires as to how he
+should enter in.
+
+"By noon," said he, "we shall have so many fagots that we may make
+our way over the ditch. Then we will beat in the gates and so win a
+footing."
+
+The young Frenchman had come with Nigel to the conference, and now, amid
+the silence which followed the leader's proposal, he asked if he might
+be heard. He was clad in the brazen armor which Nigel had taken from the
+Red Ferret.
+
+"It may be that it is not for me to join in your counsel," said he,
+"seeing that I am a prisoner and a Frenchman. But this man is the enemy
+of all, and we of France owe him a debt even as you do, since many a
+good Frenchman has died in his cellars. For this reason I crave to be
+heard."
+
+"We will hear you," said Knolles.
+
+"I have come from Evran yesterday," said he. "Sir Henry Spinnefort, Sir
+Peter La Roye and many other brave knights and squires lie there, with
+a good company of men, all of whom would very gladly join with you to
+destroy this butcher and his castle, for it is well known amongst us
+that his deeds are neither good nor fair. There are also bombards which
+we could drag over the hills, and so beat down this iron gate. If you so
+order it I will ride to Evran and bring my companions back with me."
+
+"Indeed, Robert," said Percy, "it is in my mind that this Frenchman
+speaks very wisely and well."
+
+"And when we have taken the castle--what then?" asked Knolles.
+
+"Then you could go upon your way, fair sir, and we upon ours. Or if it
+please you better you could draw together on yonder hill and we on this
+one, so that the valley lies between us. Then if any cavalier wished to
+advance himself or to shed a vow and exalt his lady, an opening might
+be found for him. Surely it would be shame if so many brave men drew
+together and no small deed were to come of it."
+
+Nigel clasped his captive's hand to show his admiration and esteem, but
+Knolles shook his head.
+
+"Things are not ordered thus, save in the tales of the minstrels," said
+he. "I have no wish that your people at Evran should know our numbers or
+our plans. I am not in this land for knight errantry, but I am here to
+make head against the King's enemies. Has no one aught else to say?"
+
+Percy pointed to the small outlying fortalice upon the knoll, on which
+also flew the flag of the bloody head. "This smaller castle, Robert, is
+of no great strength and cannot hold more than fifty men. It is built,
+as I conceive it, that no one should seize the high ground and shoot
+down into the other. Why should we not turn all our strength upon it,
+since it is the weaker of the twain?"
+
+But again the young leader shook his head. "If I should take it," said
+he, "I am still no nearer to my desire, nor will it avail me in getting
+back my bowmen. It may cost a score of men, and what profit shall I have
+from it? Had I bombards, I might place them on yonder hill, but having
+none it is of little use to me."
+
+"It may be," said Nigel, "that they have scant food or water, and so
+must come forth to fight us."
+
+"I have made inquiry of the peasants," Knolles answered, "and they are
+of one mind that there is a well within the castle, and good store of
+food. Nay, gentlemen, there is no way before us save to take it by arms,
+and no spot where we can attempt it save through the great gate. Soon we
+will have so many fagots that we can cast them down into the ditch, and
+so win our way across. I have ordered them to cut a pine-tree on the
+hill and shear the branches so that we may beat down the gate with it.
+But what is now amiss, and why do they run forward to the castle?"
+
+A buzz had risen from the soldiers in the camp, and they all crowded in
+one direction, rushing toward the castle wall. The knights and squires
+rode after them, and when in view of the main gate, the cause of the
+disturbance lay before them. On the tower above the portal three men
+were standing in the garb of English archers, ropes round their necks
+and their hands bound behind them. Their comrades surged below them with
+cries of recognition and of pity.
+
+"It is Ambrose!" cried one. "Surely it is Ambrose of Ingleton."
+
+"Yes, in truth, I see his yellow hair. And the other, him with the
+beard, it is Lockwood of Skipton. Alas for his wife who keeps the booth
+by the bridge-head of Ribble! I wot not who the third may be."
+
+"It is little Johnny Alspaye, the youngest man in the company," cried
+old Wat, with the tears running down his cheeks, "'Twas I who brought
+him from his home. Alas! Alas! Foul fare the day that ever I coaxed him
+from his mother's side that he might perish in a far land."
+
+There was a sudden flourish of a trumpet and the drawbridge fell. Across
+it strode a portly man with a faded herald's coat. He halted warily upon
+the farther side and his voice boomed like a drum. "I would speak with
+your leader." he cried.
+
+Knolles rode forward.
+
+"Have I your knightly word that I may advance unscathed with all
+courteous entreaty as befits a herald?"
+
+Knolles nodded his head.
+
+The man came slowly and pompously forward. "I am the messenger and liege
+servant," said he, "of the high baron, Oliver de St. Yvon, Lord of La
+Brohiniere. He bids me to say that if you continue your journey and
+molest him no further he will engage upon his part to make no further
+attack upon you. As to the men whom he holds, he will enroll them in his
+own honorable service, for he has need of longbowmen, and has heard
+much of their skill. But if you constrain him or cause him further
+displeasure by remaining before his castle he hereby gives you warning
+that he will hang these three men over his gateway and every morning
+another three until all have been slain. This he has sworn upon the rood
+of Calvary, and as he has said so he will do upon jeopardy of his soul."
+
+Robert Knolles looked grimly at the messenger. "You may thank the saints
+that you have had my promise," said he, "else would I have stripped that
+lying tabard from thy back and the skin beneath it from thy bones, that
+thy master might have a fitting answer to his message. Tell him that I
+hold him and all that are within his castle as hostage for the lives of
+my men, and that should he dare to do them scathe he and every man that
+is with him shall hang upon his battlements. Go, and go quickly, lest my
+patience fail."
+
+There was that in Knolles' cold gray eyes and in his manner of speaking
+those last words which sent the portly envoy back at a quicker gait
+than he had come. As he vanished into the gloomy arch of the gateway the
+drawbridge swung up with creak and rattle behind him.
+
+A few minutes later a rough-bearded fellow stepped out over the portal
+where the condemned archers stood and seizing the first by the shoulders
+he thrust him over the wall. A cry burst from the man's lips and a deep
+groan from those of his comrades below as he fell with a jerk which
+sent him half-way up to the parapet again, and then after dancing like
+a child's toy swung slowly backward and forward with limp limbs and
+twisted neck.
+
+The hangman turned and bowed in mock reverence to the spectators beneath
+him. He had not yet learned in a land of puny archers how sure and how
+strong is the English bow. Half a dozen men, old Wat amongst them, had
+run forward toward the wall. They were too late to save their comrades,
+but at least their deaths were speedily avenged.
+
+The man was in the act of pushing off the second prisoner when an arrow
+crashed through his head, and he fell stone dead upon the parapet. But
+even in falling he had given the fatal thrust and a second russet figure
+swung beside the first against the dark background of the castle wall.
+
+There only remained the young lad, Johnny Alspaye, who stood shaking
+with fear, an abyss below him, and the voices of those who would hurl
+him over it behind. There was a long pause before anyone would come
+forth to dare those deadly arrows. Then a fellow, crouching double, ran
+forward from the shelter, keeping the young archer's body as a shield
+between him and danger.
+
+"Aside, John! Aside!" cried his comrades from below.
+
+The youth sprang as far as the rope would allow him, and slipped it half
+over his face in the effort. Three arrows flashed past his side, and
+two of them buried themselves in the body of the man behind. A howl of
+delight burst from the spectators as he dropped first upon his knees and
+then upon his face. A life for a life was no bad bargain.
+
+But it was only a short respite which the skill of his comrades had
+given to the young archer. Over the parapet there appeared a ball of
+brass, then a pair of great brazen shoulders, and lastly the full figure
+of an armored man. He walked to the edge and they heard his hoarse
+guffaw of laughter as the arrows clanged and clattered against his
+impenetrable mail. He slapped his breast-plate, as he jeered at them.
+Well he knew that at the distance no dart ever sped by mortal hands
+could cleave through his plates of metal. So he stood, the great burly
+Butcher of La Brohiniere, with head uptossed, laughing insolently at
+his foes. Then with slow and ponderous tread he walked toward his boy
+victim, seized him by the ear, and dragged him across so that the rope
+might be straight. Seeing that the noose had slipped across the face,
+he tried to push it down, but the mail glove hampering him he pulled it
+off, and grasped the rope above the lad's head with his naked hand.
+
+Quick as a flash old Wat's arrow had sped, and the Butcher sprang back
+with a howl of pain, his hand skewered by a cloth-yard shaft. As he
+shook it furiously at his enemies a second grazed his knuckles. With
+a brutal kick of his metal-shod feet he hurled young Alspaye over the
+edge, looked down for a few moments at his death agonies, and then
+walked slowly from the parapet, nursing his dripping hand, the arrows
+still ringing loudly upon his back-piece as he went.
+
+The archers below, enraged at the death of their comrades, leaped and
+howled like a pack of ravening wolves.
+
+"By Saint Dunstan," said Percy, looking round at their flushed faces,
+"if ever we are to carry it now is the moment, for these men will not be
+stopped if hate can take them forward."
+
+"You are right, Thomas!" cried Knolles. "Gather together twenty
+men-at-arms each with his shield to cover him. Astley, do you place the
+bowmen so that no head may show at window or parapet. Nigel, I pray you
+to order the countryfolk forward with their fardels of fagots. Let the
+others bring up the lopped pine-tree which lies yonder behind the horse
+lines. Ten men-at-arms can bear it on the right, and ten on the left,
+having shields over their heads. The gate once down, let every man rush
+in. And God help the better cause!"
+
+Swiftly and yet quietly the dispositions were made, for these were old
+soldiers whose daily trade was war. In little groups the archers formed
+in front of each slit or crevice in the walls, whilst others scanned
+the battlements with wary eyes, and sped an arrow at every face which
+gleamed for an instant above them. The garrison shot forth a shower of
+crossbow bolts and an occasional stone from their engine, but so deadly
+was the hail which rained upon them that they had no time to dwell upon
+their aim, and their discharges were wild and harmless. Under cover of
+the shafts of the bowmen a line of peasants ran unscathed to the edge
+of the ditch, each hurling in the bundle which he bore in his arms, and
+then hurrying back for another one. In twenty minutes a broad pathway
+of fagots lay level with the ground upon one side and the gate upon
+the other. With the loss of two peasants slain by bolts and one archer
+crushed by a stone, the ditch had been filled up. All was ready for the
+battering-ram.
+
+With a shout, twenty picked men rushed forward with the pine-tree under
+their arms, the heavy end turned toward the gate. The arbalesters on the
+tower leaned over and shot into the midst of them, but could not stop
+their advance. Two dropped, but the others raising their shields ran
+onward still shouting, crossed the bridge of fagots, and came with a
+thundering crash against the door. It splintered from base to arch, but
+kept its place.
+
+Swinging their mighty weapon, the storming party thudded and crashed
+upon the gate, every blow loosening and widening the cracks which rent
+it from end to end. The three knights, with Nigel, the Frenchman Raoul
+and the other squires, stood beside the ram, cheering on the men, and
+chanting to the rhythm of the swing with a loud "Ha!" at every blow. A
+great stone loosened from the parapet roared through the air and
+struck Sir James Astley and another of the attackers, but Nigel and the
+Frenchman had taken their places in an instant, and the ram thudded and
+smashed with greater energy than ever. Another blow and another! the
+lower part was staving inward, but the great central bar still held
+firm. Surely another minute would beat it from its sockets.
+
+But suddenly from above there came a great deluge of liquid. A hogshead
+of it had been tilted from the battlement until soldiers, bridge, and
+ram were equally drenched in yellow slime. Knolles rubbed his gauntlet
+in it, held it to his visor, and smelled it.
+
+"Back, back!" he cried. "Back before it is too late!"
+
+There was a small barred window above their heads at the side of the
+gate. A ruddy glare shone through it, and then a blazing torch was
+tossed down upon them. In a moment the oil had caught and the whole
+place was a sheet of flame. The fir-tree that they carried, the fagots
+beneath them, their very weapons, were all in a blaze.
+
+To right and left the men sprang down into the dry ditch, rolling with
+screams upon the ground in their endeavor to extinguish the flames. The
+knights and squires protected by their armor strove hard, stamping
+and slapping, to help those who had but leather jacks to shield their
+bodies. From above a ceaseless shower of darts and of stones were
+poured down upon them, while on the other hand the archers, seeing the
+greatness of the danger, ran up to the edge of the ditch, and shot fast
+and true at every face which showed above the wall.
+
+Scorched, wearied and bedraggled, the remains of the storming party
+clambered out of the ditch as best they could, clutching at the friendly
+hands held down to them, and so limped their way back amid the taunts
+and howls of their enemies. A long pile of smoldering cinders was
+all that remained of their bridge, and on it lay Astley and six other
+red-hot men glowing in their armor.
+
+Knolles clinched his hands as he looked back at the ruin that was
+wrought, and then surveyed the group of men who stood or lay around him
+nursing their burned limbs and scowling up at the exultant figures who
+waved on the castle wall. Badly scorched himself, the young leader had
+no thought for his own injuries in the rage and grief which racked
+his soul. "We will build another bridge," he cried. "Set the peasants
+binding fagots once more."
+
+But a thought had flashed through Nigel's mind. "See, fair sir," said
+he. "The nails of yonder door are red-hot and the wood as white as
+ashes. Surely we can break our way through it."
+
+"By the Virgin, you speak truly!" cried the French Squire. "If we can
+cross the ditch the gate will not stop us. Come, Nigel, for our fair
+ladies' sakes, I will race you who will reach it first, England or
+France."
+
+Alas for all the wise words of the good Chandos! Alas for all the
+lessons in order and discipline learned from the wary Knolles. In an
+instant, forgetful of all things but this noble challenge, Nigel was
+running at the top of his speed for the burning gate. Close at his heels
+was the Frenchman, blowing and gasping, as he rushed along in his brazen
+armor. Behind came a stream of howling archers and men-at-arms, like a
+flood which has broken its dam. Down they slipped into the ditch, rushed
+across it, and clambered on each other's backs up the opposite side.
+Nigel, Raoul and two archers gained a foothold in front of the burning
+gate at the same moment. With blows and kicks they burst it to pieces,
+and dashed with a yell of triumph through the dark archway beyond. For a
+moment they thought with mad rapture that the castle was carried. A dark
+tunnel lay before them, down which they rushed. But alas! at the farther
+end it was blocked by a second gateway as strong as that which had been
+burned. In vain they beat upon it with their swords and axes. On
+each side the tunnel was pierced with slits, and the crossbow bolts
+discharged at only a few yards' distance crashed through armor as if it
+were cloth and laid man after man upon the stones. They raged and leaped
+before the great iron-clamped barrier, but the wall itself was as easy
+to tear down.
+
+It was bitter to draw back; but it was madness to remain. Nigel looked
+round and saw that half his men were down. At the same moment Raoul sank
+with a gasp at his feet, a bolt driven to its socket through the links
+of the camail which guarded his neck. Some of the archers, seeing that
+certain death awaited them, were already running back to escape from the
+fatal passage.
+
+"By Saint Paul!" cried Nigel hotly. "Would you leave our wounded where
+this butcher may lay his hands upon them? Let the archers shoot inwards
+and hold them back from the slits. Now let each man raise one of our
+comrades, lest we leave our honor in the gate of this castle."
+
+With a mighty effort he had raised Raoul upon his shoulders and
+staggered with him to the edge of the ditch. Several men were waiting
+below where the steep bank shield them from the arrows, and to them
+Nigel handed down his wounded friend, and each archer in turn did the
+same. Again and again Nigel went back until no one lay in the tunnel
+save seven who had died there. Thirteen wounded were laid in the shelter
+of the ditch, and there they must remain until night came to cover them.
+Meanwhile the bowmen on the farther side protected them from attack, and
+also prevented the enemy from all attempts to build up the outer gate.
+The gaping smoke-blackened arch was all that they could show for a loss
+of thirty men, but that at least Knolles was determined to keep.
+
+Burned and bruised, but unconscious of either pain or fatigue for the
+turmoil of his spirit within him, Nigel knelt by the Frenchman and
+loosened his helmet. The girlish face of the young Squire was white as
+chalk, and the haze of death was gathering over his violet eyes, but
+a faint smile played round his lips as he looked up at his English
+comrade.
+
+"I shall never see Beatrice again," he whispered. "I pray you, Nigel,
+that when there is a truce you will journey as far as my father's
+chateau and tell him how his son died. Young Gaston will rejoice, for
+to him come the land and the coat, the war-cry and the profit. See them,
+Nigel, and tell them that I was as forward as the others."
+
+"Indeed Raoul, no man could have carried himself with more honor or won
+more worship than you have done this day. I will do your behest when the
+time comes."
+
+"Surely you are happy, Nigel," the dying Squire murmured, "for this
+day has given you one more deed which you may lay at the feet of your
+lady-love."
+
+"It might have been so had we carried the gate," Nigel answered sadly;
+"but by Saint Paul! I cannot count it a deed where I have come back with
+my purpose unfulfilled. But this is no time, Raoul, to talk of my
+small affairs. If we take the castle and I bear a good part in it, then
+perchance all this may indeed avail."
+
+The Frenchman sat up with that strange energy which comes often as the
+harbinger of death. "You will win your Lady Mary, Nigel, and your great
+deeds will be not three but a score, so that in all Christendom there
+shall be no man of blood and coat-armor who has not heard your name and
+your fame. This I tell you--I, Raoul de la Roche Pierre de Bras, dying
+upon the field of honor. And now kiss me, sweet friend, and lay me back,
+for the mists close round me and I am gone!"
+
+With tender hands the Squire lowered his comrade's head, but even as he
+did so there came a choking rush of blood, and the soul had passed. So
+died a gallant cavalier of France, and Nigel as he knelt in the ditch
+beside him prayed that his own end might be as noble and as debonair.
+
+
+
+
+XXI. HOW THE SECOND MESSENGER WENT TO COSFORD
+
+
+
+Under cover of night the wounded men were lifted from the ditch and
+carried back, whilst pickets of archers were advanced to the very
+gate so that none should rebuild it. Nigel, sick at heart over his own
+failure, the death of his prisoner and his fears for Aylward, crept back
+into the camp, but his cup was not yet full, for Knolles was waiting for
+him with a tongue which cut like a whip-lash. Who was he, a raw squire,
+that he should lead an attack without orders? See what his crazy knight
+errantry had brought about. Twenty men had been destroyed by it and
+nothing gained. Their blood was on his head. Chandos should hear of his
+conduct. He should be sent back to England when the castle had fallen.
+
+Such were the bitter words of Knolles, the more bitter because Nigel
+felt in his heart that he had indeed done wrong, and that Chandos would
+have said the same though, perchance, in kinder words. He listened in
+silent respect, as his duty was, and then having saluted his leader
+he withdrew apart, threw himself down amongst the bushes, and wept the
+hottest tears of his life, sobbing bitterly with his face between his
+hands. He had striven hard, and yet everything had gone wrong with him.
+He was bruised, burned and aching from head to foot. Yet so high is the
+spirit above the body that all was nothing compared to the sorrow and
+shame which racked his soul.
+
+But a little thing changed the current of his thoughts and brought some
+peace to his mind. He had slipped off his mail gauntlets, and as he
+did so his fingers lighted upon the tiny bangle which Mary had fastened
+there when they stood together upon St. Catharine's Hill on the
+Guildford Road. He remembered the motto curiously worked in filigree of
+gold. It ran: "Fais ce que dois, adviegne que pourra--c'est commande au
+chevalier."
+
+The words rang in his weary brain. He had done what seemed right, come
+what might. It had gone awry, it is true; but all things human may do
+that. If he had carried the castle, he felt that Knolles would have
+forgiven and forgotten all else. If he had not carried it, it was no
+fault of his. No man could have done more. If Mary could see she would
+surely have approved. Dropping into sleep, he saw her dark face, shining
+with pride and with pity, stooping over him as he lay. She stretched out
+her hand in his dream and touched him on the shoulder. He sprang up and
+rubbed his eyes, for fact had woven itself into dream in the strange way
+that it does, and some one was indeed leaning over him in the gloom, and
+shaking him from his slumbers. But the gentle voice and soft touch of
+the Lady Mary had changed suddenly to the harsh accents and rough grip
+of Black Simon, the fierce Norfolk man-at-arms.
+
+"Surely you are the Squire Loring," he said, peering close to his face
+in the darkness.
+
+"I am he. What then?"
+
+"I have searched through the camp for you, but when I saw the great
+horse tethered near these bushes, I thought you would be found hard by.
+I would have a word with you."
+
+"Speak on."
+
+"This man Aylward the bowman was my friend, and it is the nature that
+God has given me to love my friends even as I hate my foes. He is also
+thy servant, and it has seemed to me that you love him also."
+
+"I have good cause so to do."
+
+"Then you and I, Squire Loring, have more reason to strive on his behalf
+than any of these others, who think more of taking the castle than of
+saving those who are captives within. Do you not see that such a man as
+this robber lord would, when all else had failed him, most surely cut
+the throats of his prisoners at the last instant before the castle fell,
+knowing well that come what might he would have short shrift himself? Is
+that not certain?"
+
+"By Saint Paul! I had not thought of it."
+
+"I was with you, hammering at the inner gate," said Simon, "and yet
+once when I thought that it was giving way I said in my heart: 'Good-by,
+Samkin! I shall never see you more.' This Baron has gall in his
+soul, even as I have myself, and do you think that I would give up my
+prisoners alive, if I were constrained so to do? No, no; had we won our
+way this day it would have been the death-stroke for them all."
+
+"It may be that you are right, Simon," said Nigel, "and the thought of
+it should assuage our grief. But if we cannot save them by taking the
+castle, then surely they are lost indeed."
+
+"It may be so, or it may not," Simon answered slowly. "It is in my mind
+that if the castle were taken very suddenly, and in such a fashion that
+they could not foresee it, then perchance we might get the prisoners
+before they could do them scathe."
+
+Nigel bent forward eagerly, his hand on the soldier's arm.
+
+"You have some plan in your mind, Simon. Tell me what it is."
+
+"I had wished to tell Sir Robert, but he is preparing the assault for
+to-morrow and will not be turned from his purpose. I have indeed a plan,
+but whether it be good or not I cannot say until I have tried it. But
+first I will tell you what put it into my thoughts. Know then that this
+morning when I was in yonder ditch I marked one of their men upon the
+wall. He was a big man with a white face, red hair and a touch of Saint
+Anthony's fire upon the cheek."
+
+"But what has this to do with Aylward?"
+
+"I will show you. This evening after the assault I chanced to walk with
+some of my fellows, round yonder small fort upon the knoll to see if we
+could spy a weak spot in it. Some of them came to the wall to curse us,
+and among them whom should I see but a big man with a white face, red
+hair and a touch of Anthony's fire upon his cheek? What make you of
+that, Squire Nigel?"
+
+"That this man had crossed from the castle to the fort."
+
+"In good sooth, it must indeed be so. There are not two such
+ken-speckled men in the world. But if he crossed from the castle to the
+fort, it was not above the ground, for our own people were between."
+
+"By Saint Paul! I see your meaning!" cried Nigel. "It is in your mind
+that there is a passage under the earth from one to the other."
+
+"I am well sure of it."
+
+"Then if we should take the small fort we may pass down this tunnel, and
+so carry the great castle also."
+
+"Such a thing might happen," said Simon, "and yet it is dangerous also,
+for surely those in the castle would hear our assault upon the fort and
+so be warned to bar the passage against us, and to slay the prisoners
+before we could come."
+
+"What then is your rede?"
+
+"Could we find where the tunnel lay, Squire Nigel, I know not what is to
+prevent us from digging down upon it and breaking into it so that both
+fort and castle are at our mercy before either knows that we are there."
+
+Nigel clapped his hands with joy. "'Fore God!" he cried. "It is a most
+noble plan! But alas! Simon, I see not how we can tell the course of
+this passage or where we should dig."
+
+"I have peasants yonder with spades," said Simon. "There are two of my
+friends, Harding of Barnstable and West-country John who are waiting for
+us with their gear. If you will come to lead us, Squire Nigel, we are
+ready to venture our bodies in the attempt."
+
+What would Knolles say in case they failed? The thought flashed through
+Nigel's mind, but another came swiftly behind it. He would not venture
+further unless he found hopes of success. And if he did venture further
+he would put his life upon it. Giving that, he made amends for all
+errors. And if on the other hand success crowned their efforts, then
+Knolles would forgive his failure at the gateway. A minute later, every
+doubt banished from his mind, he was making his way through the darkness
+under the guidance of Black Simon.
+
+Outside the camp the two other men-at-arms were waiting for them, and
+the four advanced together. Presently a little group of figures loomed
+up in the darkness. It was a cloudy night, and a thin rain was falling
+which obscured both the castle and the fort; but a stone had been placed
+by Simon in the daytime which assured that they were between the two.
+
+"Is blind Andreas there?" asked Simon.
+
+"Yes, kind sir, I am here," said a voice.
+
+"This man," said Simon, "was once rich and of good repute, but he was
+beggared by this robber lord, who afterwards put out his eyes so that he
+has lived for many years in darkness at the charity of others."
+
+"How can he help us in our enterprise if he be indeed blind?" asked
+Nigel.
+
+"It is for that very reason, fair lord, that he can be of greater
+service than any other man," Simon answered; "for it often happens that
+when a man has lost a sense the good God will strengthen those that
+remain. Hence it is that Andreas has such ears that he can hear the sap
+in the trees or the cheep of the mouse in its burrow. He has come to
+help us to find the tunnel."
+
+"And I have found it," said the blind man proudly. "Here I have placed
+my staff upon the line of it. Twice as I lay there with my ear to the
+ground I have heard footsteps pass beneath me."
+
+"I trust you make no mistake, old man," said Nigel.
+
+For answer the blind man raised his staff and smote twice upon the
+ground, once to the right and once to the left. The one gave a dull
+thud, the other a hollow boom.
+
+"Can you not hear that?" he asked. "Will you ask me now if I make a
+mistake?"
+
+"Indeed, we are much beholden to you!" cried Nigel. "Let the peasants
+dig then, and as silently as they may. Do you keep your ear upon the
+ground, Andreas, so that if anyone pass beneath us we shall be warned."
+
+So, amid the driving rain, the little group toiled in the darkness.
+The blind man lay silent, flat upon his face, and twice they heard his
+warning hiss and stopped their work, whilst some one passed beneath. In
+an hour they had dug down to a stone arch which was clearly the outer
+side of the tunnel roof. Here was a sad obstacle, for it might take long
+to loosen a stone, and if their work was not done by the break of day
+then their enterprise was indeed hopeless. They loosened the mortar with
+a dagger, and at last dislodged one small stone which enabled them to
+get at the others. Presently a dark hole blacker than the night around
+them yawned at their feet, and their swords could touch no bottom to it.
+They had opened the tunnel.
+
+"I would fain enter it first," said Nigel. "I pray you to lower me
+down." They held him to the full length of their arms and then letting
+him drop they heard him land safely beneath them. An instant later the
+blind man started up with a low cry of alarm.
+
+"I hear steps coming," said he. "They are far off, but they draw
+nearer."
+
+Simon thrust his head and neck down the hole. "Squire Nigel," he
+whispered, "can you hear me?"
+
+"I can hear you, Simon."
+
+"Andreas says that some one comes."
+
+"Then cover over the hole," came the answer. "Quick, I pray you, cover
+it over!"
+
+A mantle was stretched across it, so that no glimmer of light should
+warn the new-comer. The fear was that he might have heard, the sound
+of Nigel's descent. But soon it was clear that he had not done so, for
+Andreas announced that he was still advancing. Presently Nigel could
+hear the distant thud of his feet. If he bore a lantern all was lost.
+But no gleam of light appeared in the black tunnel, and still the
+footsteps drew nearer.
+
+Nigel breathed a prayer of thanks to all his guardian saints as he
+crouched close to the slimy wall and waited breathless, his dagger
+in his hand. Nearer yet and nearer came the steps. He could hear the
+stranger's coarse breathing in the darkness. Then as he brushed past
+Nigel bounded upon him with a tiger spring. There was one gasp of
+astonishment, and not a sound more, for the Squire's grip was on the
+man's throat and his body was pinned motionless against the wall.
+
+"Simon! Simon!" cried Nigel loudly.
+
+The mantle was moved from the hole.
+
+"Have you a cord? Or your belts linked together may serve."
+
+One of the peasants had a rope, and Nigel soon felt it dangling against
+his hand. He listened and there was no sound in the passage. For an
+instant he released his captive's throat. A torrent of prayers and
+entreaties came forth. The man was shaking like a leaf in the wind.
+Nigel pressed the point of his dagger against his face and dared him to
+open his lips. Then he slipped the rope beneath his arms and tied it.
+
+"Pull him up!" he whispered, and for an instant the gray glimmer above
+him was obscured.
+
+"We have him, fair sir," said Simon.
+
+"Then drop me the rope and hold it fast."
+
+A moment later Nigel stood among the group of men who had gathered round
+their captive. It was too dark to see him, and they dare not strike
+flint and steel.
+
+Simon passed his hand roughly over him and felt a fat clean-shaven
+face, and a cloth gabardine which hung to the ankles. "Who are you?" he
+whispered. "Speak the truth and speak it low, if you would ever speak
+again."
+
+The man's teeth chattered in his head with cold and fright. "I speak no
+English," he murmured.
+
+"French, then," said Nigel.
+
+"I am a holy priest of God. You court the ban of holy Church when you
+lay hands upon me. I pray you let me go upon my way, for there are
+those whom I would shrive and housel. If they should die in sin, their
+damnation is upon you."
+
+"How are you called then?"
+
+"I am Dom Peter de Cervolles."
+
+"De Cervolles, the arch-priest, he who heated the brazier when they
+burned out my eyes," cried old Andreas. "Of all the devils in hell there
+is none fouler than this one. Friends, friends, if I have done aught
+for you this night, I ask but one reward, that ye let me have my will of
+this man."
+
+But Nigel pushed the old man back. "There is no time for this," he said.
+"Now hark you, priest--if priest indeed you be--your gown and tonsure
+will not save you if you play us false, for we are here of a set purpose
+and we will go forward with it, come what may. Answer me and answer me
+truly or it will be an ill night for you. In what part of the Castle
+does this tunnel enter?"
+
+"In the lower cellar."
+
+"What is at the end?"
+
+"An oaken door."
+
+"Is it barred?"
+
+"Yes, it is barred."
+
+"How would you have entered?"
+
+"I would have given the password."
+
+"Who then would have opened?"
+
+"There is a guard within."
+
+"And beyond him?"
+
+"Beyond him are the prison cells and the jailers."
+
+"Who else would be afoot?"
+
+"No one save a guard at the gate and another on the battlement."
+
+"What then is the password?"
+
+The man was silent.
+
+"The password, fellow!"
+
+The cold points of two daggers pricked his throat; but still he would
+not speak.
+
+"Where is the blind man?" asked Nigel. "Here, Andreas, you can have him
+and do what you will with him."
+
+"Nay, nay," the priest whimpered. "Keep him off me. Save me from blind
+Andreas! I will tell you everything."
+
+"The password then, this instant?"
+
+"It is 'Benedicite!'"
+
+"We have the password, Simon," cried Nigel. "Come then, let us on to the
+farther end. These peasants will guard the priest, and they will remain
+here lest we wish to send a message."
+
+"Nay, fair sir, it is in my mind that we can do better," said Simon.
+"Let us take the priest with us, so that he who is within may know his
+voice."
+
+"It is well thought of," said Nigel, "and first let us pray together,
+for indeed this night may well be our last."
+
+He and the three men-at-arms knelt in the rain and sent up their simple
+orisons, Simon still clutching tight to his prisoner's wrist.
+
+The priest fumbled in his breast and drew something forth. "It is the
+heart of the blessed confessor Saint Enogat," said he. "It may be that
+it will ease and assoil your souls if you would wish to handle it."
+
+The four Englishmen passed the flat silver case from hand to hand, each
+pressing his lips devoutly upon it. Then they rose to their feet. Nigel
+was the first to lower himself down the hole; then Simon; then the
+priest, who was instantly seized by the other two. The men-at-arms
+followed them. They had scarcely moved away from the hole when Nigel
+stopped.
+
+"Surely some one else came after us," said he.
+
+They listened, but no whisper or rustle came from behind them. For a
+minute they paused and then resumed their journey through the dark. It
+seemed a long, long way, though in truth it was but a few hundred yards
+before they came to a door with a glimmer of yellow light around it,
+which barred their passage. Nigel struck upon it with his hand.
+
+There was the rasping of a bolt and then a loud voice "Is that you,
+priest?"
+
+"Yes, it is I," said the prisoner in a quavering voice. "Open, Arnold!"
+
+The voice was enough. There was no question of passwords. The door swung
+inward, and in an instant the janitor was cut down by Nigel and Simon.
+So sudden and so fierce was the attack that save for the thud of
+his body no sound was heard. A flood of light burst outward into the
+passage, and the Englishmen stood with blinking eyes in its glare.
+
+In front of them lay a stone-flagged corridor, across which lay the
+dead body of the janitor. It had doors on either side of it, and another
+grated door at the farther end. A strange hubbub, a kind of low droning
+and whining filled the air. The four men were standing listening, full
+of wonder as to what this might mean, when a sharp cry came from behind
+them. The priest lay in a shapeless heap upon the ground, and the blood
+was rushing from his gaping throat. Down the passage, a black shadow in
+the yellow light, there fled a crouching man, who clattered with a stick
+as he went.
+
+"It is Andreas," cried West-country Will. "He has slain him."
+
+"Then it was he that I heard behind us," said Nigel. "Doubtless he was
+at our very heels in the darkness. I fear that the priest's cry has been
+heard."
+
+"Nay," said Simon, "there are so many cries that one more may well pass.
+Let us take this lamp from the wall and see what sort of devil's den we
+have around us."
+
+They opened the door upon the right, and so horrible a smell issued from
+it that they were driven back from it. The lamp which Simon held forward
+showed a monkeylike creature mowing and grimacing in the corner, man or
+woman none could tell, but driven crazy by loneliness and horror. In the
+other cell was a graybearded man fettered to the wall, looking blankly
+before him, a body without a soul, yet with life still in him, for his
+dull eyes turned slowly in their direction. But it was from behind the
+central door at the end of the passage that the chorus of sad cries came
+which filled the air.
+
+"Simon," said Nigel, "before we go farther we will take this outer door
+from its hinges. With it we will block this passage so that at the worst
+we may hold our ground here until help comes. Do you back to the camp
+as fast as your feet can bear you. The peasants will draw you upward
+through the hole. Give my greetings to Sir Robert and tell him that the
+castle is taken without fail if he comes this way with fifty men. Say
+that we have made a lodgment within the walls. And tell him also, Simon,
+that I would counsel him to make a stir before the gateway so that the
+guard may be held there whilst we make good our footing behind them. Go,
+good Simon, and lose not a moment!"
+
+But the man-at-arms shook his head. "It is I who have brought you here,
+fair sir, and here I bide through fair and foul. But you speak wisely
+and well, for Sir Robert should indeed be told what is going forward now
+that we have gone so far. Harding, do you go with all speed and bear the
+gentle Nigel's message."
+
+Reluctantly the man-at-arms sped upon his errand. They could hear the
+racing of his feet and the low jingle of his harness until they died
+away in the tunnel. Then the three companions approached the door at the
+end. It was their intention to wait where they were until help should
+come, but suddenly amid the babel of cries within there broke forth an
+English voice, shouting in torment.
+
+"My God!" it cried, "I pray you, comrades, for a cup of water, as you
+hope for Christ's mercy!"
+
+A shout of laughter and the thud of a heavy blow followed the appeal.
+
+All the hot blood rushed to Nigel's head at the sound, buzzing in his
+ears and throbbing in his temples. There are times when the fiery heart
+of a man must overbear the cold brain of a soldier. With one bound he
+was at the door, with another he was through it, the men-at-arms at
+his heels. So strange was the scene before them that for an instant all
+three stood motionless with horror and surprise.
+
+It was a great vaulted chamber, brightly lit by many torches. At the
+farther end roared a great fire. In front of it three naked men were
+chained to posts in such a way that flinch as they might they could
+never get beyond the range of its scorching heat. Yet they were so far
+from it that no actual burn would be inflicted if they could but keep
+turning and shifting so as continually to present some fresh portion of
+their flesh to the flames. Hence they danced and whirled in front of the
+fire, tossing ceaselessly this way and that within the compass of their
+chains, wearied to death, their protruding tongues cracked and blackened
+with thirst, but unable for one instant to rest from their writhings and
+contortions.
+
+Even stranger was the sight at each side of the room, whence came that
+chorus of groans which had first struck upon the ears of Nigel and his
+companions. A line of great hogsheads were placed alongside the walls,
+and within each sat a man, his head protruding from the top. As they
+moved within there was a constant splashing and washing of water. The
+white wan faces all turned together as the door flew open, and a cry
+of amazement and of hope took the place of those long-drawn moans of
+despair.
+
+At the same instant two fellows clad in black, who had been seated with
+a flagon of wine between them at a table near the fire, sprang wildly
+to their feet, staring with blank amazement at this sudden inrush. That
+instant of delay deprived them of their last chance of safety. Midway
+down the room was a flight of stone steps which led to the main door.
+
+Swift as a wildcat Nigel bounded toward it and gained the steps a stride
+or two before the jailers. They turned and made for the other which led
+to the passage, but Simon and his comrades were nearer to it than they.
+Two sweeping blows, two dagger thrusts into writhing figures, and the
+ruffians who worked the will of the Butcher lay dead upon the floor of
+their slaughter-house.
+
+Oh, the buzz of joy and of prayer from all those white lips! Oh, the
+light of returning hope in all those sunken weary eyes! One wild shout
+would have gone up had not Nigel's outstretched hands and warning voice
+hushed them to silence.
+
+He opened the door behind him. A curving newel staircase wound upward
+into the darkness. He listened, but no sound came down. There was a key
+in the outer lock of the iron door. He whipped it out and turned it on
+the inner side. The ground that they had gained was safe. Now they could
+turn to the relief of these poor fellows beside them. A few strong blows
+struck off the irons and freed the three dancers before the fire. With a
+husky croak of joy, they rushed across to their comrades' water-barrels,
+plunged their heads in like horses, and drank and drank and drank. Then
+in turn the poor shivering wretches were taken out of the barrels, their
+skins bleached and wrinkled with long soaking. Their bonds were torn
+from them; but, cramped and fixed, their limbs refused to act, and they
+tumbled and twisted upon the floor in their efforts to reach Nigel and
+to kiss his hand.
+
+In a corner lay Aylward, dripping from his barrel and exhausted with
+cold and hunger. Nigel ran to his side and raised his head. The jug of
+wine from which the two jailers had drunk still stood upon their table.
+The Squire placed it to the archer's lips and he took a hearty pull at
+it.
+
+"How is it with you now, Aylward?"
+
+"Better, Squire, better, but may I never touch water again as long as I
+live! Alas! poor Dicon has gone, and Stephen also--the life chilled out
+of them. The cold is in the very marrow of my bones. I pray you, let me
+lean upon your arm as far as the fire, that I may warm the frozen blood
+and set it running in my veins once more."
+
+A strange sight it was to see these twenty naked men crouching in a
+half-circle round the fire with their trembling hands extended to the
+blaze. Soon their tongues at least were thawed, and they poured out the
+story of their troubles with many a prayer and ejaculation to the saints
+for their safe delivery. No food had crossed their lips since they had
+been taken. The Butcher had commanded them to join his garrison and to
+shoot upon their comrades from the wall. When they refused he had set
+aside three of them for execution.
+
+The others had been dragged to the cellar, whither the leering tyrant
+had followed them. Only one question he had asked them, whether they
+were of a hot-blooded nature or of a cold. Blows were showered upon them
+until they answered. Three had said cold, and had been condemned to the
+torment of the fire. The rest who had said hot were delivered up to the
+torture of the water-cask. Every few hours this man or fiend had come
+down to exult over their sufferings and to ask them whether they were
+ready yet to enter his service. Three had consented and were gone. But
+the others had all of them stood firm, two of them even to their death.
+
+Such was the tale to which Nigel and his comrades listened whilst
+they waited impatiently for the coming of Knolles and his men. Many
+an anxious look did they cast down the black tunnel, but no glimmer of
+light and no clash of steel came from its depths. Suddenly, however, a
+loud and measured sound broke upon their ears. It was a dull metallic
+clang, ponderous and slow, growing louder and ever louder--the tread of
+an armored man. The poor wretches round the fire, all unnerved by hunger
+and suffering, huddled together with wan, scared faces, their eyes fixed
+in terror on the door.
+
+"It is he!" they whispered. "It is the Butcher himself!"
+
+Nigel had darted to the door and listened intently. There were no
+footfalls save those of one man. Once sure of that, he softly turned
+the key in the lock. At the same instant there came a bull's bellow from
+without.
+
+"Ives! Bertrand!" cried the voice. "Can you not hear me coming, you
+drunken varlets? You shall cool your own heads in the water-casks, you
+lazy rascals! What, not even now! Open, you dogs. Open, I say!"
+
+He had thrust down the latch, and with a kick he flung the door wide
+and rushed inward. For an instant he stood motionless, a statue of dull
+yellow metal, his eyes fixed upon the empty casks and the huddle of
+naked men. Then with the roar of a trapped lion, he turned, but the door
+had slammed behind him, and Black Simon, with grim figure and sardonic
+face, stood between.
+
+The Butcher looked round him helplessly, for he was unarmed save for his
+dagger. Then his eyes fell upon Nigel's roses.
+
+"You are a gentleman of coat-armor," he cried. "I surrender myself to
+you."
+
+"I will not take your surrender, you black villain," said Nigel. "Draw
+and defend yourself. Simon, give him your sword."
+
+"Nay, this is madness," said the blunt man-at-arms. "Why should I give
+the wasp a sting?"
+
+"Give it him, I say. I cannot kill him in cold blood."
+
+"But I can!" yelled Aylward, who had crept up from the fire. "Come,
+comrades! By these ten finger-bones! has he not taught us how cold blood
+should be warmed?"
+
+Like a pack of wolves they were on him, and he clanged upon the floor
+with a dozen frenzied naked figures clutching and clinging above him.
+In vain Nigel tried to pull them off. They were mad with rage, these
+tortured starving men, their eyes fixed and glaring, their hair on end,
+their teeth gnashing with fury, while they tore at the howling, writhing
+man. Then with a rattle and clatter they pulled him across the room by
+his two ankles and dragged him into the fire.
+
+Nigel shuddered and turned away his eyes as he saw the brazen figure
+roll out and stagger to his knees, only to be hurled once more into the
+heart of the blaze. His prisoners screamed with joy and clapped their
+hands as they pushed him back with their feet until the armor was too
+hot for them to touch. Then at last he lay still and glowed darkly red,
+whilst the naked men danced in a wild half-circle round the fire.
+
+But now at last the supports had come. Lights flashed and armor gleamed
+down the tunnel. The cellar filled with armed men, while from above
+came the cries and turmoil of the feigned assault upon the gate. Led
+by Knolles and Nigel, the storming party rushed upward and seized the
+courtyard. The guard of the gate taken in the rear threw down their
+weapons and cried for mercy. The gate was thrown open and the assailants
+rushed in, with hundreds of furious peasants at their heels. Some of the
+robbers died in hot blood, many in cold; but all died, for Knolles had
+vowed to give no quarter. Day was just breaking when the last fugitive
+had been hunted out and slain. From all sides came the yells and whoops
+of the soldiers with the rending and riving of doors as they burst
+into the store-rooms and treasure-chambers. There was a joyous scramble
+amongst them, for the plunder of eleven years, gold and jewels, satins
+and velvets, rich plate and noble hangings were all to be had for the
+taking.
+
+The rescued prisoners, their hunger appeased and their clothes restored,
+led the search for booty. Nigel, leaning on his sword by the gateway,
+saw Aylward totter past, a huge bundle under each arm, another slung
+over his back and a smaller packet hanging from his mouth. He dropped it
+for a moment as he passed his young master.
+
+"By these ten finger-bones! I am right glad that I came to the war, and
+no man could ask for a more goodly life," said he. "I have a present
+here for every girl in Tilford, and my father need never fear the frown
+of the sacrist of Waverley again. But how of you, Squire Loring? It
+standeth not aright that we should gather the harvest whilst you, who
+sowed it, go forth empty-handed. Come, gentle sir, take these things
+that I have gathered, and I will go back and find more."
+
+But Nigel smiled and shook his head. "You have gained what your heart
+desired, and perchance I have done so also," said he.
+
+An instant later Knolles strode up to him with outstretched hand. "I ask
+your pardon, Nigel," said he. "I have spoken too hotly in my wrath."
+
+"Nay, fair sir, I was at fault."
+
+"If we stand here now within this castle, it is to you that I owe it.
+The King shall know of it, and Chandos also. Can I do aught else, Nigel,
+to prove to you the high esteem in which I hold you?"
+
+The Squire flushed with pleasure. "Do you send a messenger home to
+England, fair sir, with news of these doings?"
+
+"Surely, I must do so. But do not tell me, Nigel, that you would be that
+messenger. Ask me some other favor, for indeed I cannot let you go."
+
+"Now God forbid!" cried Nigel. "By Saint Paul! I would not be so caitiff
+and so thrall as to leave you, when some small deed might still be done.
+But I would fain send a message by your messenger."
+
+"To whom?"
+
+"It is to the Lady Mary, daughter of old Sir John Buttesthorn who dwells
+near Guildford."
+
+"But you will write the message, Nigel. Such greetings as a cavalier
+sends to his lady-love should be under seal."
+
+"Nay, he can carry my message by word of mouth."
+
+"Then I shall tell him for he goes this morning. What message, then,
+shall he say to the lady?"
+
+"He will give her my very humble greeting, and he will say to her that
+for the second time Saint Catharine has been our friend."
+
+
+
+
+XXII. HOW ROBERT OF BEAUMANOIR CAME TO PLOERMEL
+
+
+Sir Robert Knolles and his men passed onward that day, looking back many
+a time to see the two dark columns of smoke, one thicker and one more
+slender, which arose from the castle and from the fort of La Brohiniere.
+There was not an archer nor a man-at-arms who did not bear a great
+bundle of spoil upon his back, and Knolles frowned darkly as he looked
+upon them. Gladly would he have thrown it all down by the roadside, but
+he had tried such matters before, and he knew that it was as safe to
+tear a half-gnawed bone from a bear as their blood-won plunder from such
+men as these. In any case it was but two days' march to Ploermel, where
+he hoped to bring his journey to an end.
+
+That night they camped at Mauron, where a small English and Breton
+garrison held the castle. Right glad were the bowmen to see some of
+their own countrymen once more, and they spent the night over wine and
+dice, a crowd of Breton girls assisting, so that next morning their
+bundles were much lighter, and most of the plunder of La Brohiniere was
+left with the men and women of Mauron. Next day their march lay with a
+fair sluggish river upon their right, and a great rolling forest upon
+their left which covered the whole country. At last toward evening the
+towers of Ploermel rose before them and they saw against a darkening sky
+the Red Cross of England waving in the wind. So blue was the river Duc
+which skirted the road, and so green its banks, that they might indeed
+have been back beside their own homely streams, the Oxford Thames or
+the Midland Trent, but ever as the darkness deepened there came in wild
+gusts the howling of wolves from the forest to remind them that they
+were in a land of war. So busy had men been for many years in hunting
+one another that the beasts of the chase had grown to a monstrous
+degree, until the streets of the towns were no longer safe from the wild
+inroads of the fierce creatures, the wolves and the bears, who swarmed
+around them.
+
+It was nightfall when the little army entered the outer gate of the
+Castle of Ploermel and encamped in the broad Bailey yard. Ploermel was
+at that time the center of British power in Mid-Brittany, as Hennebon
+was in the West, and it was held by a garrison of five hundred men under
+an old soldier, Richard of Bambro', a rugged Northumbrian, trained in
+that great school of warriors, the border wars. He who had ridden the
+marches of the most troubled frontier in Europe, and served his time
+against the Liddlesdale and Nithsdale raiders was hardened for a life in
+the field.
+
+Of late, however, Bambro' had been unable to undertake any enterprise,
+for his reinforcements had failed him, and amid his following he had
+but three English knights and seventy men. The rest were a mixed crew
+of Bretons, Hainaulters and a few German mercenary soldiers, brave
+men individually, as those of that stock have ever been, but lacking
+interest in the cause, and bound together by no common tie of blood or
+tradition.
+
+On the other hand, the surrounding castles, and especially that of
+Josselin, were held by strong forces of enthusiastic Bretons, inflamed
+by a common patriotism, and full of warlike ardor. Robert of Beaumanoir,
+the fierce seneschal of the house of Rohan, pushed constant forays and
+excursions against Ploermel so that town and castle were both in daily
+dread of being surrounded and besieged. Several small parties of the
+English faction had been cut off and slain to a man, and so straitened
+were the others that it was difficult for them to gather provisions from
+the country round.
+
+Such was the state of Bambro's garrison when on that March evening
+Knolles and his men streamed into the bailey-yard of his Castle.
+
+In the glare of the torches at the inner gate Bambro' was waiting to
+receive them, a dry, hard, wizened man, small and fierce, with beady
+black eyes and quick furtive ways.
+
+Beside him, a strange contrast, stood his Squire, Croquart, a German,
+whose name and fame as a man-at-arms were widespread, though like Robert
+Knolles himself he had begun as a humble page. He was a very tall man,
+with an enormous spread of shoulders, and a pair of huge hands with
+which he could crack a horse-shoe. He was slow and lethargic, save in
+moments of excitement, and his calm blond face, his dreamy blue eyes and
+his long fair hair gave him so gentle an appearance that none save those
+who had seen him in his berserk mood, raging, an iron giant, in the
+forefront of the battle, could ever guess how terrible a warrior he
+might be. Little knight and huge squire stood together under the arch of
+the donjon and gave welcome to the newcomers, whilst a swarm of soldiers
+crowded round to embrace their comrades and to lead them off where they
+might feed and make merry together.
+
+Supper had been set in the hall of Ploermel wherein the knights and
+squires assembled. Bambro' and Croquart were there with Sir Hugh
+Calverly, an old friend of Knolles and a fellow-townsman, for both were
+men of Chester. Sir Hugh was a middle-sized flaxen man, with hard
+gray eyes and fierce large-nosed face sliced across with the scar of a
+sword-cut. There too were Geoffrey D'Ardaine, a young Breton seigneur,
+Sir Thomas Belford, a burly thick-set Midland Englishman, Sir Thomas
+Walton, whose surcoat of scarlet martlets showed that he was of the
+Surrey Waltons, James Marshall and John Russell, young English squires,
+and the two brothers, Richard and Hugh Le Galliard, who were of Gascon
+blood. Besides these were several squires, unknown to fame, and of the
+new-comers, Sir Robert Knolles, Sir Thomas Percy, Nigel Loring and
+two other squires, Allington and Parsons. These were the company
+who gathered in the torch-light round the table of the Seneschal of
+Ploermel, and kept high revel with joyous hearts because they thought
+that much honor and noble deeds lay before them.
+
+But one sad face there was at the board, and that belonged to him at the
+head of it. Sir Robert Bambro' sat with his chin leaning upon his hand
+and his eyes downcast upon the cloth, whilst all round him rose the
+merry clatter of voices, everyone planning some fresh enterprise which
+might now be attempted. Sir Robert Knolles was for an immediate advance
+upon Josselin. Calverly thought that a raid might be made into the South
+where the main French power lay. Others spoke of an attack upon Vannes.
+
+To all these eager opinions Bambro' listened in a moody silence, which
+he broke at last by a fierce execration which drew a hushed attention
+from the company. "Say no more, fair sirs," he cried; "for indeed your
+words are like so many stabs in my heart. All this and more we might
+indeed have done. But of a truth you are too late."
+
+"Too late?'" cried Knolles. "What mean you, Richard?"
+
+"Alas; that I should have to say it, but you and all these fair soldiers
+might be back in England once more for all the profit that I am like to
+have from your coming. Saw you a rider on a white horse ere you reached
+the Castle?"
+
+"Nay, I saw him not?"
+
+"He came by the western road from Hennebon. Would that he had broken his
+neck ere he came here. Not an hour ago he left his message and now
+hath ridden on to warn the garrison of Malestroit. A truce has been
+proclaimed for a year betwixt the French King and the English, and he
+who breaks it forfeits life and estate."
+
+"A truce!" Here was an end to all their fine dreams. They looked blankly
+at each other all round the table, whilst Croquart brought his great
+fist down upon the board until the glasses rattled again. Knolles sat
+with clenched hands as if he were a figure of stone, while Nigel's heart
+turned cold and heavy within him. A truce! Where then was his third
+deed, and how might he return without it?
+
+Even as they sat in moody silence there was the call of a bugle from
+somewhere out in the darkness.
+
+Sir Richard looked up with surprise. "We are not wont to be summoned
+after once the portcullis is up," said he. "Truce or no truce, we must
+let no man within our walls until we have proved him. Croquart, see to
+it!"
+
+The huge German left the room. The company were still seated in
+despondent silence when he returned.
+
+"Sir Richard," said he, "the brave knight Robert of Beaumanoir and his
+Squire William de Montaubon are without the gate, and would fain have
+speech with you."
+
+Bambro' started in his chair. What could the fierce leader of the
+Bretons, a man who was red to the elbow with English blood, have to say
+to them? On what errand had he left his castle of Josselin to pay this
+visit to his deadly enemies?
+
+"Are they armed?" he asked.
+
+"They are unarmed."
+
+"Then admit them and bring them hither, but double the guards and take
+all heed against surprise."
+
+Places were set at the farther end of the table for these most
+unexpected guests. Presently the door was swung open, and Croquart with
+all form and courtesy announced the two Bretons, who entered with the
+proud and lofty air of gallant warriors and high-bred gentlemen.
+
+Beaumanoir was a tall dark man with raven hair and long swarthy beard.
+He was strong and straight as a young oak, with fiery black eyes, and
+no flaw in his comely features save that his front teeth had been dashed
+from their sockets. His Squire, William of Montaubon, was also tall,
+with a thin hatchet face, and two small gray eyes set very close upon
+either side of a long fierce nose. In Beaumanoir's expression one read
+only gallantry and frankness; in Montaubon's there was gallantry also,
+but it was mixed with the cruelty and cunning of the wolf. They bowed
+as they entered, and the little English seneschal advanced with
+outstretched hand to meet them.
+
+"Welcome, Robert, so long as you are beneath this roof," said he.
+"Perhaps the time may come in another place when we may speak to each
+other in another fashion."
+
+"So I hope, Richard," said Beaumanoir; "but indeed we of Josselin bear
+you in high esteem and are much beholden to you and to your men for all
+that you have done for us. We could not wish better neighbors nor any
+from whom more honor is to be gained. I learn that Sir Robert Knolles
+and others have joined you, and we are heavy-hearted to think that the
+orders of our Kings should debar us from attempting a venture." He
+and his squire sat down at the places set for them, and filling their
+glasses drank to the company.
+
+"What you say is true, Robert," said Bambro', "and before you came we
+were discussing the matter among ourselves and grieving that it should
+be so. When heard you of the truce?"
+
+"Yester-evening a messenger rode from Nantes."
+
+"Our news came to-night from Hennebon. The King's own seal was on the
+order. So I fear that for a year at least you will bide at Josselin and
+we at Ploermel, and kill time as we may. Perchance we may hunt the wolf
+together in the great forest, or fly our hawks on the banks of the Duc."
+
+"Doubtless we shall do all this, Richard," said Beaumanoir; "but by
+Saint Cadoc it is in my mind that with good-will upon both sides we may
+please ourselves and yet stand excused before our Kings."
+
+Knights and squires leaned forward in their chairs, their eager eyes,
+fixed upon him. He broke into a gap-toothed smile as he looked round at
+the circle, the wizened seneschal, the blond giant, Nigel's fresh young
+face, the grim features of Knolles, and the yellow hawk-like Calverly,
+all burning with the same desire.
+
+"I see that I need not doubt the good-will," said he, "and of that I was
+very certain before I came upon this errand. Bethink you then that this
+order applies to war but not to challenges, spear-runnings, knightly
+exchanges or the like. King Edward is too good a knight, and so is King
+John, that either of them should stand in the way of a gentleman who
+desires to advance himself or to venture his body for the exaltation of
+his lady. Is this not so?"
+
+A murmur of eager assent rose from the table.
+
+"If you as the garrison of Ploermel march upon the garrison of Josselin,
+then it is very plain that we have broken the truce and upon our heads
+be it. But if there be a private bickering betwixt me, for example, and
+this young squire whose eyes show that he is very eager for honor, and
+if thereafter others on each side join in and fight upon the quarrel,
+it is in no sense war, but rather our own private business which no king
+can alter."
+
+"Indeed, Robert," said Bambro', "all that you say is very good and
+fair."
+
+Beaumanoir leaned forward toward Nigel, his brimming glass in his hand.
+"Your name, squire?" said he.
+
+"My name is Nigel Loring."
+
+"I see that you are young and eager, so I choose you as I would fain
+have been chosen when I was of your age."
+
+"I thank you, fair sir," said Nigel. "It is great honor that one so
+famous as yourself should condescend to do some small deed upon me."
+
+"But we must have cause for quarrel, Nigel. Now here I drink to the
+ladies of Brittany, who of all ladies upon this earth are the most fair
+and the most virtuous, so that the least worthy-amongst them is far
+above the best of England. What say you to that, young sir?"
+
+Nigel dipped his finger in his glass and leaning over he placed its wet
+impress on the Breton's hand. "This in your face!" said he.
+
+Beaumanoir swept off the red drop of moisture and smiled his approval.
+"It could not have been better done," said he. "Why spoil my velvet
+paltock as many a hot-headed fool would have done. It is in my mind,
+young sir, that you will go far. And now, who follows up this quarrel?"
+
+A growl ran round the table.
+
+Beaumanoir ran his eye round and shook his head. "Alas!" said he, "there
+are but twenty of you here, and I have thirty at Josselin who are so
+eager to advance themselves that if I return without hope for all of
+them there will be sore hearts amongst them. I pray you, Richard, since
+we have been at these pains to arrange matters, that you in turn will do
+what you may. Can you not find ten more men?"
+
+"But not of gentle blood."
+
+"Nay, it matters not, if they will only fight."
+
+"Of that there can be no doubt, for the castle is full of archers and
+men-at-arms who would gladly play a part in the matter."
+
+"Then choose ten," said Beaumanoir.
+
+But for the first time the wolf-like squire opened his thin lips.
+"Surely, my lord, you will not allow archers," said he.
+
+"I fear not any man."
+
+"Nay, fair sir, consider that this is a trial of weapons betwixt us
+where man faces man. You have seen these English archers, and you know
+how fast and how strong are their shafts. Bethink you that if ten of
+them were against us it is likely that half of us would be down before
+ever we came to handstrokes."
+
+"By Saint Cadoc, William, I think that you are right," cried the Breton.
+"If we are to have such a fight as will remain in the memories of men,
+you will bring no archers and we no crossbows. Let it be steel upon
+steel. How say you then?"
+
+"Surely we can bring ten men-at-arms to make up the thirty that you
+desire, Robert. It is agreed then that we fight on no quarrel of England
+and France, but over this matter of the ladies in which you and Squire
+Loring have fallen out. And now the time?"
+
+"At once."
+
+"Surely at once, or perchance a second messenger may come and this also
+be forbidden. We will be ready with to-morrow's sunrise."
+
+"Nay, a day later," cried the Breton Squire. "Bethink you, my lord, that
+the three lances of Radenac would take time to come over."
+
+"They are not of our garrison, and they shall not have a place."
+
+"But, fair sir, of all the lances of Brittany--"
+
+"Nay, William, I will not have it an hour later. To-morrow it shall be,
+Richard."
+
+"And where?"
+
+"I marked a fitting place even as I rode here this evening. If you cross
+the river and take the bridle-path through the fields which leads to
+Josselin you come midway upon a mighty oak standing at the corner of a
+fair and level meadow. There let us meet at midday to-morrow."
+
+"Agreed!" cried Bambro'. "But I pray you not to rise, Robert! The night
+is still young and the spices and hippocras will soon be served. Bide
+with us, I pray you, for if you would fain hear the latest songs from
+England, these gentlemen have doubtless brought them. To some of us
+perchance it is the last night, so we would make it a full one."
+
+But the gallant Breton shook his head. "It may indeed be the last night
+for many," said he, "and it is but right that my comrades should know
+it. I have no need of monk or friar, for I cannot think that harm will
+ever come beyond the grave to one who has borne himself as a knight
+should, but others have other thoughts upon these matters and would fain
+have time for prayer and penitence. Adieu, fair sirs, and I drink a last
+glass to a happy meeting at the midway oak."
+
+
+
+
+XXIII. HOW THIRTY OF JOSSELIN ENCOUNTERED THIRTY OF PLOERMEL
+
+
+All night the Castle of Ploermel rang with warlike preparations, for the
+smiths were hammering and filing and riveting, preparing the armor for
+the champions. In the stable yard hostlers were testing and grooming the
+great war-horses, whilst in the chapel knights and squires were easing
+their souls at the knees of old Father Benedict.
+
+Down in the courtyard, meanwhile, the men-at-arms had been assembled,
+and the volunteers weeded out until the best men had been selected.
+Black Simon had obtained a place, and great was the joy which shone
+upon his grim visage. With him were chosen young Nicholas Dagsworth, a
+gentleman adventurer who was nephew to the famous Sir Thomas, Walter the
+German, Hulbitee--a huge peasant whose massive frame gave promise which
+his sluggish spirit failed to fulfil--John Alcock, Robin Adey and Raoul
+Provost. These with three others made up the required thirty. Great was
+the grumbling and evil the talk amongst the archers when it was learned
+that none of them were to be included, but the bow had been forbidden on
+either side. It is true that many of them were expert fighters both
+with ax and with sword, but they were unused to carry heavy armor, and
+a half-armed man would have short shrift in such a hand-to-hand struggle
+as lay before them.
+
+It was two hours after tierce, or one hour before noon, on the fourth
+Wednesday of Lent in the year of Christ 1351 that the men of Ploermel
+rode forth from their castle-gate and crossed the bridge of the Due. In
+front was Bambro' with his Squire Croquart, the latter on a great roan
+horse bearing the banner of Ploermel, which was a black rampant lion
+holding a blue flag upon a field of ermine. Behind him came Robert
+Knolles and Nigel Loring, with an attendant at their side, who carried
+the pennon of the black raven. Then rode Sir Thomas Percy with his blue
+lion flaunting above him, and Sir Hugh Calverly, whose banner bore a
+silver owl, followed by the massive Belford who carried a huge iron
+club, weighing sixty pounds, upon his saddlebow, and Sir Thomas Walton
+the knight of Surrey. Behind them were four brave Anglo-Bretons, Perrot
+de Commelain, Le Gaillart, d'Aspremont and d'Ardaine, who fought against
+their own countrymen because they were partisans of the Countess of
+Montfort. Her engrailed silver cross upon a blue field was carried at
+their head. In the rear were five German or Hainault mercenaries, the
+tall Hulbitee, and the men-at-arms. Altogether of these combatants
+twenty were of English birth, four were Breton and six were of German
+blood.
+
+So, with glitter of armor and flaunting of pennons, their warhorses
+tossing and pawing, the champions rode down to the midway oak. Behind
+them streamed hundreds of archers and men-at-arms whose weapons had been
+wisely taken from them lest a general battle should ensue. With them
+also went the townsfolk, men and women, together with wine-sellers,
+provisions merchants, armorers, grooms and heralds, with surgeons to
+tend the wounded and priests to shrive the dying. The path was blocked
+by this throng, but all over the face of the country horsemen and
+footmen, gentle and simple, men and women, could be seen speeding their
+way to the scene of the encounter.
+
+The journey was not a long one, for presently, as they threaded their
+way through the fields, there appeared before them a great gray oak
+which spread its gnarled leafless branches over the corner of a green
+and level meadow. The tree was black with the peasants who had climbed
+into it, and all round it was a huge throng, chattering and calling
+like a rookery at sunset. A storm of hooting broke out from them at the
+approach of the English, for Bambro' was hated in the country where he
+raised money for the Montfort cause by putting every parish to ransom
+and maltreating those who refused to pay. There was little amenity in
+the warlike ways which had been learned upon the Scottish border. The
+champions rode onward without deigning to take notice of the taunts of
+the rabble, but the archers turned that way and soon beat the mob to
+silence. Then they resolved themselves into the keepers of the ground,
+and pressed the people back until they formed a dense line along the
+edge of the field, leaving the whole space clear for the warriors.
+
+The Breton champions had not yet arrived, so the English tethered their
+horses at one side of the ground, and then gathered round their leader.
+Every man had his shield slung round his neck, and had cut his spear to
+the length of five feet so that it might be more manageable for fighting
+on foot. Besides the spear a sword or a battle-ax hung at the side of
+each. They were clad from head to foot in armor, with devices upon
+the crests and surcoats to distinguish them from their antagonists.
+At present their visors were still up and they chatted gayly with each
+other.
+
+"By Saint Dunstan!" cried Percy, slapping his gauntleted hands together
+and stamping his steel feet. "I shall be right glad to get to work, for
+my blood is chilled."
+
+"I warrant you will be warm enough ere you get through," said Calverly.
+
+"Or cold forever. Candle shall burn and bell toll at Alnwick Chapel if
+I leave this ground alive, but come what may, fair sirs, it should be a
+famous joust and one which will help us forward. Surely each of us will
+have worshipfully won worship, if we chance to come through."
+
+"You say truth, Thomas," said Knolles, bracing his girdle. "For my
+own part I have no joy in such encounters when there is warfare to be
+carried out, for it standeth not aright that a man should think of his
+own pleasure and advancement rather than of the King's cause and the
+weal of the army. But in times of truce I can think of no better way in
+which a day may be profitably spent. Why so silent, Nigel?"
+
+"Indeed, fair sir, I was looking toward Josselin, which lies as I
+understand beyond those woods. I see no sign of this debonair gentleman
+and of his following. It would be indeed grievous pity if any cause came
+to hold them back."
+
+Hugh Calverly laughed at the words. "You need have no fear, young sir,"
+said he. "Such a spirit lies in Robert de Beaumanoir that if he must
+come alone he would ride against us none the less. I warrant that if
+he were on a bed of death he would be borne here and die on the green
+field."
+
+"You say truly, Hugh," said Bambro'. "I know him and those who ride
+behind him. Thirty stouter men or more skilled in arms are not to be
+found in Christendom. It is in my mind that come what may there will be
+much honor for all of us this day. Ever in my head I have a rhyme which
+the wife of a Welsh archer gave me when I crossed her hand with a golden
+bracelet after the intaking of Bergerac. She was of the old blood of
+Merlin with the power of sight. Thus she said--
+
+            "'Twixt the oak-tree and the river
+              Knightly fame aid brave endeavor
+              Make an honored name forever.'
+
+"Methinks I see the oak-tree, and yonder is the river. Surely this
+should betide some good to us."
+
+The huge German Squire betrayed some impatience during this speech of
+his leader. Though his rank was subordinate, no man present had more
+experience of warfare or was more famous as a fighter than he. He new
+broke brusquely into the talk. "We should be better employed in ordering
+our line and making our plans than in talking of the rhymes of Merlin or
+such old wives' tales," said he. "It is to our own strong arms and good
+weapons that we must trust this day. And first I would ask you, Sir
+Richard, what is your will if perchance you should fall in the midst of
+the fight?"
+
+Bambro' turned to the others. "If such should be the case, fair sirs, I
+desire that my Squire Croquart should command."
+
+There was a pause while the knights looked with some chagrin at each
+other. The silence was broken by Knolles.
+
+"I will do what you say, Richard," said he, "though indeed it is bitter
+that we who are knights should serve beneath a squire. Yet it is not for
+us to fall out among ourselves now at this last moment, and I have ever
+heard that Croquart is a very worthy and valiant man. Therefore, I will
+pledge you on jeopardy of my soul that I will accept him as leader if
+you fall."
+
+"So will I also, Richard," said Calverly.
+
+"And I too!" cried Belford. "But surely I hear music, and yonder are
+their pennons amid the trees."
+
+They all turned, leaning upon their short spears, and watched the
+advance of the men of Josselin, as their troop wound its way out from
+the woodlands. In front rode three heralds with tabards of the ermine of
+Brittany, blowing loudly upon silver trumpets. Behind them a great man
+upon a white horse bore the banner of Josselin which carries nine golden
+torteaus upon a scarlet field. Then came the champions riding two
+and two, fifteen knights and fifteen squires, each with his pennon
+displayed. Behind them on a litter was borne an aged priest, the Bishop
+of Rennes, carrying in his hands the viaticum and the holy oils that
+he might give the last aid and comfort of the Church to those who were
+dying. The procession was terminated by hundreds of men and women
+from Josselin, Guegon, and Helleon, and by the entire garrison of the
+fortress, who came, as the English had done, without their arms. The
+head of this long column had reached the field before the rear were
+clear of the wood, but as they arrived the champions picketed their
+horses on the farther side, behind which their banner was planted and
+the people lined up until they had inclosed the whole lists with a dense
+wall of spectators.
+
+With keen eyes the English party had watched the armorial blazonry of
+their antagonists, for those fluttering pennons and brilliant surcoats
+carried a language which all men could read. In front was the banner of
+Beaumanoir, blue with silver frets. His motto "J'ayme qui m'ayme" was
+carried on a second flag by a little page.
+
+"Whose is the shield behind him--silver with scarlet drops?" asked
+Knolles.
+
+"It is his Squire, William of Montaubon," Calverly answered. "And there
+are the golden lion of Rochefort and the silver cross of Du Bois the
+Strong. I would not wish to meet a better company than are before us
+this day. See, there are the blue rings of young Tintiniac, who slew
+my Squire Hubert last Lammastide. With the aid of Saint George I will
+avenge him ere nightfall."
+
+"By the three kings of Almain," growled Croquart, "we will need to fight
+hard this day, for never have I seen so many good soldiers gathered
+together. Yonder is Yves Cheruel, whom they call the man of iron, Caro
+de Bodegat also with whom I have had more than one bickering--that is
+he with the three ermine circles on the scarlet shield. There too is
+left-handed Alain de Karanais; bear in mind that his stroke comes on the
+side where there is no shield."
+
+"Who is the small stout man"--asked Nigel--"he with the black and silver
+shield? By Saint Paul! he seems a very worthy person and one from whom
+much might be gained, for he is nigh as broad as he is long."
+
+"It is Sir Robert Raguenel," said Calverly, whose long spell of service
+in Brittany had made him familiar with the people. "It is said that he
+can lift a horse upon his back. Beware a full stroke of that steel
+mace, for the armor is not made that can abide it. But here is the good
+Beaumanoir, and surely it is time that we came to grips."
+
+The Breton leader had marshaled his men in a line opposite to the
+English, and now he strode forward and shook Bambro' by the hand. "By
+Saint Cadoc! this is a very joyous meeting, Richard," said he, "and we
+have certainly hit upon a very excellent way of keeping a truce."
+
+"Indeed, Robert," said Bambro', "we owe you much thanks, for I can see
+that you have been at great pains to bring a worthy company against us
+this day. Surely if all should chance to perish there will be few noble
+houses in Brittany who will not mourn."
+
+"Nay, we have none of the highest of Brittany," Beaumanoir answered.
+"Neither a Blois, nor a Leon, nor a Rohan, nor a Conan, fights in our
+ranks this day. And yet we are all men of blood and coat-armor, who are
+ready to venture our persons for the desire of our ladies and the love
+of the high order of knighthood. And now, Richard, what is your sweet
+will concerning this fight?"
+
+"That we continue until one or other can endure no longer, for since it
+is seldom that so many brave men draw together it is fitting that we see
+as much as is possible of each other."
+
+"Richard, your words are fair and good. It shall be even as you say. For
+the rest, each shall fight as pleases him best from the time that the
+herald calls the word. If any man from without shall break in upon us he
+shall be hanged on yonder oak."
+
+With a salute he drew down his visor and returned to his own men, who
+were kneeling in a twinkling, many  group whilst the old bishop
+gave them his blessing.
+
+The heralds rode round with a warning to the spectators. Then they
+halted at the side of the two bands of men who now stood in a long line
+facing each other with fifty yards of grass between. The visors had been
+closed, and every man was now cased in metal from head to foot, some few
+glowing in brass, the greater number shining in steel. Only their fierce
+eyes could be seen smoldering in the dark shadow of their helmets. So
+for an instant they stood glaring and crouching.
+
+Then with a loud cry of "Allez!" the herald dropped his upraised hand,
+and the two lines of men shuffled as fast as their heavy armor would
+permit until they met with a sharp clang of metal in the middle of the
+field. There was a sound as of sixty smiths working upon their anvils.
+Then the babel of yells and shouts from the spectators, cheering on this
+party or that, rose and swelled until even the uproar of the combat was
+drowned in that mighty surge.
+
+So eager were the combatants to engage that in a few moments all order
+had been lost and the two bands were mixed up in one furious scrambling,
+clattering throng, each man tossed hither and thither, thrown against
+one adversary and then against another, beaten and hustled and buffeted,
+with only the one thought in his mind to thrust with his spear or to
+beat with his ax against anyone who came within the narrow slit of
+vision left by his visor.
+
+But alas for Nigel and his hopes of some great deed! His was at least
+the fate of the brave, for he was the first to fall. With a high heart
+he had placed himself in the line as nearly opposite to Beaumanoir as he
+could, and had made straight for the Breton leader, remembering that in
+the out set the quarrel had been so ordered that it lay between them.
+But ere he could reach his goal he was caught in the swirl of his own
+comrades, and being the lighter man was swept aside and dashed into the
+arms of Alain de Karanais, the left-handed swordsman, with such a crash
+that the two rolled upon the ground together. Light footed as a cat,
+Nigel had sprung up first, and was stooping over the Breton Squire when
+the powerful dwarf Raguenel brought his mace thudding down upon the
+exposed back of his helmet. With a groan Nigel fell upon his face, blood
+gushing from his mouth, nose, and ears. There he lay, trampled over by
+either party, while that great fight for which his fiery soul had panted
+was swaying back and forward above his unconscious form.
+
+But Nigel was not long unavenged. The huge iron club of Belford struck
+the dwarf Raguenel to the ground, while Belford in turn was felled by a
+sweeping blow from Beaumanoir. Sometimes a dozen were on the ground at
+one time, but so strong was the armor, and so deftly was the force of a
+blow broken by guard and shield, that the stricken men were often pulled
+to their feet once more by their comrades, and were able to continue the
+fight.
+
+Some, however, were beyond all aid. Croquart had cut at a Breton knight
+named Jean Rousselot and had shorn away his shoulder-piece, exposing
+his neck and the upper part of his arm. Vainly he tried to cover this
+vulnerable surface with his shield. It was his right side, and he could
+not stretch it far enough across, nor could he get away on account of
+the press of men around him. For a time he held his foemen at bay, but
+that bare patch of white shoulder was a mark for every weapon, until at
+last a hatchet sank up to the socket in the knight's chest. Almost at
+the same moment a second Breton, a young Squire named Geoffrey Mellon,
+was slain by a thrust from Black Simon which found the weak spot beneath
+the armpit. Three other Bretons, Evan Cheruel, Caro de Bodegat, and
+Tristan de Pestivien, the first two knights and the latter a squire,
+became separated from their comrades, and were beaten to the ground
+with English all around them, so that they had to choose between instant
+death and surrender. They handed their swords to Bambro' and stood
+apart, each of them sorely wounded, watching with hot and bitter hearts
+the melee which still surged up and down the field.
+
+But now the combat had lasted half an hour without stint or rest, until
+the warriors were so exhausted with the burden of their armor, the loss
+of blood, the shock of blows, and their own furious exertions, that they
+could scarce totter or raise their weapons. There must be a pause if the
+combat was to have any decisive end. "Cessez! Cessez! Retirez!" cried
+the heralds, as they spurred their horses between the exhausted men.
+
+Slowly the gallant Beaumanoir led the twenty-five men who were left
+to their original station, where they opened their visors and threw
+themselves down upon the grass, panting like weary dogs, and wiping the
+sweat from their bloodshot eyes. A pitcher of wine of Anjou was carried
+round by a page, and each in turn drained a cup, save only Beaumanoir
+who kept his Lent with such strictness that neither food nor drink might
+pass his lips before sunset. He paced slowly amongst his men, croaking
+forth encouragement from his parched lips and pointing out to them that
+among the English there was scarce a man who was not wounded, and some
+so sorely that they could hardly stand. If the fight so far had gone
+against them, there were still five hours of daylight, and much might
+happen before the last of them was laid upon his back.
+
+Varlets had rushed forth to draw away the two dead Bretons, and a brace
+of English archers had carried Nigel from the field. With his own hands
+Aylward had unlaced the crushed helmet and had wept to see the bloodless
+and unconscious face of his young master. He still breathed, however,
+and stretched upon the grass by the riverside the bowman tended him with
+rude surgery, until the water upon his brow and the wind upon his face
+had coaxed back the life into his battered frame. He breathed with heavy
+gasps, and some tinge of blood crept hack into his cheeks, but still
+he lay unconscious of the roar of the crowd and of that great struggle
+which his comrades were now waging once again.
+
+The English had lain for a space bleeding and breathless, in no better
+case than their rivals, save that they were still twenty-nine in number.
+But of this muster there were not nine who were hale men, and some were
+so weak from loss of blood that they could scarce keep standing. Yet,
+when the signal was at last given to reengage there was not a man upon
+either side who did not totter to his feet and stagger forward toward
+his enemies.
+
+But the opening of this second phase of the combat brought one great
+misfortune and discouragement to the English. Bambro' like the others,
+had undone his visor, but with his mind full of many cares he had
+neglected to make it fast again. There was an opening an inch broad
+betwixt it and the beaver. As the two lines met the left-handed Breton
+squire, Alain de Karanais, caught sight of Bambro's face, and in an
+instant thrust his short spear through the opening. The English leader
+gave a cry of pain and fell on his knees, but staggered to his feet
+again, too weak to raise his shield. As he stood exposed the Breton
+knight, Geoffrey Dubois the Strong, struck him such a blow with his
+ax that he beat in the whole breast-plate with the breast behind it.
+Bambro' fell dead upon the ground and for a few minutes a fierce fight
+raged round his body.
+
+Then the English drew back, sullen and dogged, bearing Bambro' with
+them, and the Bretons, breathing hard, gathered again in their own
+quarter. At the same instant the three prisoners picked up such weapons
+as were scattered upon the grass and ran over to join their own party.
+
+"Nay, nay!" cried Knolles, raising his visor and advancing. "This may
+not be. You have been held to mercy when we might have slain you, and
+by the Virgin I will hold you dishonored, all three, if you stand not
+back."
+
+"Say not so, Robert Knolles," Evan Cheruel answered. "Never yet has
+the word dishonor been breathed with my name, but I should count myself
+faineant if I did not fight beside my comrades when chance has made it
+right and proper that I should do so."
+
+"By Saint Cadoc! he speaks truly," croaked Beaumanoir, advancing in
+front of his men. "You are well aware, Robert, that it is the law of
+war and the usage of chivalry that if the knight to whom you have
+surrendered is himself slain the prisoners thereby become released."
+
+There was no answer to this and Knolles, weary and spent, returned to
+his comrades. "I would that we had slain them," said he. "We have lost
+our leader and they have gained three men by the same stroke."
+
+"If any more lay down their arms it is my order that you slay them
+forthwith," said Croquart, whose bent sword and bloody armor showed how
+manfully he had borne himself in the fray. "And now, comrades, do not
+be heavy-hearted because we have lost our leader. Indeed, his rhymes
+of Merlin have availed him little. By the three kings of Almain! I can
+teach you what is better than an old woman's prophecies, and that is
+that you should keep your shoulders together and your shields so close
+that none can break between them. Then you will know what is on either
+side of you, and you can fix your eyes upon the front. Also, if any be
+so weak or wounded that he must sink his hands his comrades on right and
+left can bear him up. Now advance all together in God's name, for the
+battle is still ours if we bear ourselves like men."
+
+In a solid line the English advanced, while the Bretons ran forward
+as before to meet them. The swiftest of these was a certain Squire,
+Geoffrey Poulart, who bore a helmet which was fashioned as a cock's
+head, with high comb above, and long pointed beak in front pierced with
+the breathing-holes. He thrust with his sword at Calverly, but Belford
+who was the next in the line raised his giant club and struck him a
+crushing blow from the side. He staggered, and then pushing forth from
+the crowd, he ran round and round in circles as one whose brain is
+stricken, the blood dripping from the holes of his brazen beak. So for
+a long time he ran, the crowd laughing and cock-crowing at the sight,
+until at last he stumbled and fell stone-dead upon his face. But the
+fighters had seen nothing of his fate, for desperate and unceasing was
+the rush of the Bretons and the steady advance of the English line.
+
+For a time it seemed as if nothing would break it, but gap-toothed
+Beaumanoir was a general as well as a warrior. Whilst his weary,
+bleeding, hard-breathing men still flung themselves upon the front of
+the line, he himself with Raguenel, Tentiniac, Alain de Karanais, and
+Dubois rushed round the flank and attacked the English with fury
+from behind. There was a long and desperate melee until once more the
+heralds, seeing the combatants stand gasping and unable to strike a
+blow, rode in and called yet another interval of truce.
+
+But in those few minutes whilst they had been assaulted upon both
+sides, the losses of the English party had been heavy. The Anglo-Breton
+D'Ardaine had fallen before Beaumanoir's sword, but not before he had
+cut deeply into his enemy's shoulder. Sir Thomas Walton, Richard of
+Ireland one of the Squires, and Hulbitee the big peasant had all fallen
+before the mace of the dwarf Raguenel or the swords of his companions.
+Some twenty men were still left standing upon either side, but all were
+in the last state of exhaustion, gasping, reeling, hardly capable of
+striking a blow.
+
+It was strange to see them as they staggered with many a lurch and
+stumble toward each other once again, for they moved like drunken men,
+and the scales of their neck-armor and joints were as red as fishes'
+gills when they raised them They left foul wet footprints behind them
+on the green grass as they moved forward once more to their endless
+contest.
+
+Beaumanoir, faint with the drain of his blood and with a tongue of
+leather, paused as he advanced. "I am fainting, comrades," he cried. "I
+must drink."
+
+"Drink your own blood, Beaumanoir!" cried Dubois, and the weary men all
+croaked together in dreadful laughter.
+
+But now the English had learned from experience, and under the guidance
+of Croquart they fought no longer in a straight line, but in one so
+bent that at last it became a circle. As the Bretons still pushed and
+staggered against it they thrust it back on every side, until they had
+turned it into the most dangerous formation of all, a solid block of
+men, their faces turned outward, their weapons bristling forth to meet
+every attack. Thus the English stood, and no assault could move them.
+They could lean against each other back to back while they waited and
+allowed their foemen to tire themselves out. Again and again the gallant
+Bretons tried to make a way through. Again and again they were beaten
+back by a shower of blows.
+
+Beaumanoir, his head giddy with fatigue, opened his helmet and gazed in
+despair at this terrible, unbreakable circle. Only too clearly he could
+see the inevitable result. His men were wearing themselves out. Already
+many of them could scarce stir hand or foot, and might be dead for any
+aid which they could give him in winning the fight. Soon all would be in
+the same plight. Then these cursed English would break their circle to
+swarm over his helpless men and to strike them down. Do what he might,
+he could see no way by which such an end might be prevented. He cast his
+eyes round in his agony, and there was one of his Bretons slinking away
+to the side of the lists. He could scarce credit his senses when he
+saw by the scarlet and silver that the deserter was his own well-tried
+squire, William of Montaubon.
+
+"William! William!" he cried. "Surely you would not leave me?"
+
+But the other's helmet was closed and he could hear nothing. Beaumanoir
+saw that he was staggering away as swiftly as he could. With a cry of
+bitter despair, he drew into a knot as many of his braves as could still
+move, and together they made a last rush upon the English spears. This
+time he was firmly resolved, deep in his gallant soul, that he would
+come no foot back, but would find his death there amongst his foemen
+or carve a path into the heart of their ranks. The fire in his breast
+spread from man to man of his followers, and amid the crashing of blows
+they still locked themselves against the English shields and drove hard
+for an opening in their ranks.
+
+But all was vain! Beaumanoir's head reeled. His senses were leaving him.
+In another minute he and his men would have been stretched senseless
+before this terrible circle of steel, when suddenly the whole array
+fell in pieces before his eyes, his enemies Croquart, Knolles, Calverly,
+Belford, all were stretched upon the ground together, their weapons
+dashed from their hands and their bodies too exhausted to rise. The
+surviving Bretons had but strength to fall upon them dagger in hands,
+and to wring from them their surrender with the sharp point stabbing
+through their visors. Then victors and vanquished lay groaning and
+panting in one helpless and blood-smeared heap.
+
+To Beaumanoir's simple mind it had seemed that at the supreme moment the
+Saints of Brittany had risen at their country's call. Already, as he
+lay gasping, his heart was pouring forth its thanks to his patron Saint
+Cadoc. But the spectators had seen clearly enough the earthly cause of
+this sudden victory, and a hurricane of applause from one side, with
+a storm of hooting from the other showed how different was the emotion
+which it raised in minds which sympathized with the victors or the
+vanquished.
+
+William of Montaubon, the cunning squire, had made his way across to
+the spot where the steeds were tethered, and had mounted his own great
+roussin. At first it was thought that he was about to ride from the
+field, but the howl of execration from the Breton peasants changed
+suddenly to a yell of applause and delight as he turned the beast's head
+for the English circle and thrust his long prick spurs into its side.
+Those who faced him saw this sudden and unexpected appearance. Time was
+when both horse and rider must have winced away from the shower of their
+blows. But now they were in no state to meet such a rush. They could
+scarce raise their arms. Their blows were too feeble to hurt this mighty
+creature. In a moment it had plunged through the ranks, and seven of
+them were on the grass. It turned and rushed through them again, leaving
+five others helpless beneath its hoofs. No need to do more! Already
+Beaumanoir and his companions were inside the circle, the prostrate men
+were helpless, and Josselin had won.
+
+That night a train of crestfallen archers, bearing many a prostrate
+figure, marched sadly into Ploermel Castle. Behind them rode ten men,
+all weary, all wounded, and all with burning hearts against William of
+Montaubon for the foul trick that he had served them.
+
+But over at Josselin, yellow gorse-blossoms in their helmets, the
+victors were borne in on the shoulders of a shouting mob, amid the
+fanfare of trumpets and the beating of drums. Such was the combat of
+the Midway Oak, where brave men met brave men, and such honor was gained
+that from that day he who had fought in the Battle of the Thirty was
+ever given the highest place and the post of honor, nor was it easy
+for any man to pretend to have been there, for it has been said by that
+great chronicler who knew them all, that not one on either side failed
+to carry to his grave the marks of that stern encounter.
+
+
+
+
+XXIV. HOW NIGEL WAS CALLED TO HIS MASTER
+
+
+"My sweet ladye," wrote Nigel in a script which it would take the eyes
+of love to read, "there hath been a most noble meeting in the fourth
+sennight of Lent betwixt some of our own people and sundry most worthy
+persons of this country, which ended, by the grace of our Lady, in so
+fine a joust that no man living can call to mind so fair an occasion.
+Much honor was gained by the Sieurde Beaumanoir and also by an Almain
+named Croquart, with whom I hope to have some speech when I am hale
+again, for he is a most excellent person and very ready to advance
+himself or to relieve another from a vow. For myself I had hoped, with
+Godde's help, to venture that third small deed which might set me free
+to haste to your sweet side, but things have gone awry with me, and I
+early met with such scathe and was of so small comfort to my friends
+that my heart is heavy within me, and in sooth I feel that I have lost
+honor rather than gained it. Here I have lain since the Feast of the
+Virgin, and here I am like still to be, for I can move no limb, save
+only my hand; but grieve not, sweet lady, for Saint Catharine hath been
+our friend since in so short a time I had two such ventures as the Red
+Ferret and the intaking of the Reaver's fortalice. It needs but one more
+deed, and sickerly when I am hale once more it will not be long ere I
+seek it out. Till then, if my eyes may not rest upon you, my heart at
+least is ever at thy feet."
+
+So he wrote from his sick-room in the Castle of Ploermel late in the
+summer, but yet another summer had come before his crushed head had
+mended and his wasted limbs had gained their strength once more. With
+despair he heard of the breaking of the truce, and of the fight at
+Mauron in which Sir Robert Knolles and Sir Walter Bentley crushed the
+rising power of Brittany--a fight in which many of the thirty champions
+of Josselin met their end. Then, when with renewed strength and high
+hopes in his heart he went forth to search for the famous Croquart who
+proclaimed himself ever ready night or day to meet any man with any
+weapon, it was only to find that in trying the paces of his new horse
+the German had been cast into a ditch and had broken his neck. In the
+same ditch perished Nigel's last chance of soon accomplishing that deed
+which should free him from his vow.
+
+There was truce once more over all Christendom, and mankind was sated
+with war, so that only in far-off Prussia, where the Teutonic knights
+waged ceaseless battle with the Lithuanian heathen, could he hope to
+find his heart's desire. But money and high knightly fame were needed
+ere a man could go upon the northern crusade, and ten years were yet
+to pass ere Nigel should look from the battlements of Marienberg on
+the waters of the Frische Haff, or should endure the torture of the hot
+plate when bound to the Holy Woden stone of Memel. Meanwhile, he chafed
+his burning soul out through the long seasons of garrison life in
+Brittany, broken only by one visit to the chateau of the father of
+Raoul, when he carried to the Lord of Grosbois the news of how his son
+had fallen like a gallant gentleman under the gateway of La Brohiniere.
+
+And then, then at last, when all hope was well-nigh dead in his heart,
+there came one glorious July morning which brought a horseman bearing
+a letter to the Castle of Vannes, of which Nigel now was seneschal. It
+contained but few words, short and clear as the call of a war-trumpet.
+It was Chandos who wrote. He needed his Squire at his side, for his
+pennon was in the breeze once more. He was at Bordeaux. The Prince was
+starting at once for Bergerac, whence he would make a great raid into
+France. It would not end without a battle. They had sent word of their
+coming, and the good French King had promised to be at great pains to
+receive them. Let Nigel hasten at once. If the army had left, then let
+him follow after with all speed. Chandos had three other squires, but
+would very gladly see his fourth once again, for he had heard much of
+him since he parted, and nothing which he might not have expected to
+hear of his father's son. Such was the letter which made the summer sun
+shine brighter and the blue sky seem of a still fairer blue upon that
+happy morning in Vannes.
+
+It is a weary way from Vannes to Bordeaux. Coastwise ships are hard to
+find, and winds blow north when all brave hearts would fain be speeding
+south. A full month has passed from the day when Nigel received his
+letter before he stood upon the quay-side of the Garonne amid the
+stacked barrels of Gascon wine and helped to lead Pommers down the
+gang-planks. Not Aylward himself had a worse opinion of the sea than
+the great yellow horse, and he whinnied with joy as he thrust his muzzle
+into his master's outstretched hand, and stamped his ringing hoofs upon
+the good firm cobblestones. Beside him, slapping his tawny shoulder in
+encouragement, was the lean spare form of Back Simon who had remained
+ever under Nigel's pennon.
+
+But Aylward, where was he? Alas! two years before he and the whole of
+Knolles' company of archers had been drafted away on the King's service
+to Guienne, and since he could not write the Squire knew not whether he
+was alive or dead. Simon, indeed, had thrice heard of him from wandering
+archers, each time that he was alive and well and newly married, but as
+the wife in one case was a fair maid, and in another a dark, while in
+the third she was a French widow, it was hard to know the truth.
+
+Already the army had been gone a month, but news of it came daily to
+the town, and such news as all men could read, for through the landward
+gates there rolled one constant stream of wagons, pouring down the
+Libourne Road, and bearing the booty of Southern France. The town was
+full of foot-soldiers, for none but mounted men had been taken by the
+Prince. With sad faces and longing eyes they watched the passing of the
+train of plunder-laden carts, piled high with rich furniture, silks,
+velvets, tapestries, carvings, and precious metals, which had been the
+pride of many a lordly home in fair Auvergne or the wealthy Bourbonnais.
+
+Let no man think that in these wars England alone was face to face with
+France alone. There is glory and to spare without trifling with the
+truth. Two Provinces in France, both rich and warlike, had become
+English through a royal marriage, and these, Guienne and Gascony,
+furnished many of the most valiant soldiers under the island flag.
+So poor a country as England could not afford to keep a great force
+overseas, and so must needs have lost the war with France through want
+of power to uphold the struggle. The feudal system enabled an army to be
+drawn rapidly together with small expense, but at the end of a few weeks
+it dispersed again as swiftly, and only by a well-filled money-chest
+could it be held together. There was no such chest in England, and the
+King was forever at his wits' end how to keep his men in the field.
+
+But Guienne and Gascony were full of knights and squires who were always
+ready to assemble from their isolated castles for a raid into France,
+and these with the addition of those English cavaliers who fought for
+honor, and a few thousand of the formidable archers, hired for fourpence
+a day, made an army with which a short campaign could be carried on.
+Such were the materials of the Prince's force, some eight thousand
+strong, who were now riding in a great circle through Southern France,
+leaving a broad wale of blackened and ruined country behind them.
+
+But France, even with her southwestern corner in English hands, was
+still a very warlike power, far richer and more populous than her rival.
+Single Provinces were so great that they were stronger than many a
+kingdom. Normandy in the north, Burgundy in the east, Brittany in the
+west and Languedoc in the south were each capable of fitting out a great
+army of their own. Therefore the brave and spirited John, watching from
+Paris this insolent raid into his dominions, sent messengers in hot
+haste to all these great feudatories as well as to Lorraine, Picardy,
+Auvergne, Hainault, Vermandois, Champagne, and to the German mercenaries
+over his eastern border, bidding all of them to ride hard, with bloody
+spur, day and night, until they should gather to a head at Chartres.
+
+There a great army had assembled early in September, whilst the Prince,
+all unconscious of its presence sacked towns and besieged castles from
+Bourges to Issodun, passing Romorautin, and so onward to Vierzon and to
+Tours. From week to week there were merry skirmishes at barriers, brisk
+assaults of fortresses in which much honor was won, knightly meetings
+with detached parties of Frenchmen and occasional spear-runnings where
+noble champions deigned to venture their persons. Houses, too, were
+to be plundered, while wine and women were in plenty. Never had either
+knights or archers had so pleasant and profitable an excursion, so that
+it was with high heart and much hope of pleasant days at Bordeaux with
+their pockets full of money that the army turned south from the Loire
+and began to retrace its steps to the seaboard city.
+
+But now its pleasant and martial promenade changed suddenly to very
+serious work of war. As the Prince moved south he found that all
+supplies had been cleared away from in front of him and that there was
+neither fodder for the horses nor food for the men. Two hundred wagons
+laden with spoil rolled at the head of the army, but the starving
+soldiers would soon have gladly changed it all for as many loads of
+bread and of meat. The light troops of the French had preceded then and
+burned or destroyed everything that could be of use. Now also for the
+first time the Prince and his men became aware that a great army was
+moving upon the eastern side of them, streaming southward in the hope of
+cutting off their retreat to the sea. The sky glowed with their fires
+at night, and the autumn sun twinkled and gleamed from one end of the
+horizon to the other upon the steel caps and flashing weapons of a
+mighty host.
+
+Anxious to secure his plunder, and conscious that the levies of France
+were far superior in number to his own force, the Prince redoubled his
+attempts to escape; but his horses were exhausted and his starving men
+were hardly to be kept in order. A few more days would unfit them
+for battle. Therefore, when he found near the village of Maupertuis a
+position in which a small force might have a chance to hold its own, he
+gave up the attempt to outmarch his pursuers, and he turned at bay, like
+a hunted boar, all tusks and eyes of flame.
+
+Whilst these high events had been in progress, Nigel with Black Simon
+and four other men-at-arms from Bordeaux, was hastening northward to
+join the army. As far as Bergerac they were in a friendly land, but
+thence onward they rode over a blackened landscape with many a roofless
+house, its two bare gable-ends sticking upward--a "Knolles' miter" as
+it was afterward called when Sir Robert worked his stern will upon the
+country. For three days they rode northward, seeing many small parties
+of French in all directions, but too eager to reach the army to ease
+their march in the search of adventures.
+
+Then at last after passing Lusignan they began to come in touch with
+English foragers, mounted bowmen for the most part, who were endeavoring
+to collect supplies either for the army or for themselves. From them
+Nigel learned that the Prince, with Chandos ever at his side, was
+hastening south and might be met within a short day's march. As he still
+advanced these English stragglers became more and more numerous, until
+at last he overtook a considerable column of archers moving in the same
+direction as his own party. These were men whose horses had failed them
+and who had therefore been left behind on the advance, but were now
+hastening to be in time for the impending battle. A crowd of peasant
+girls accompanied them upon their march, and a whole train of laden
+mules were led beside them.
+
+Nigel and his little troop of men-at-arms were riding past the archers
+when Black Simon with a sudden exclamation touched his leader upon the
+arm.
+
+"See yonder, fair sir," he cried, with gleaming eyes, "there where the
+wastrel walks with the great fardel upon his back! Who is he who marches
+behind him?"
+
+Nigel looked, and was aware of a stunted peasant who bore upon his
+rounded back an enormous bundle very much larger than himself. Behind
+him walked a burly broad-shouldered archer, whose stained jerkin and
+battered headpiece gave token of long and hard service. His bow was
+slung over his shoulder, and his arms were round the waists of two buxom
+Frenchwomen, who tripped along beside him with much laughter and many
+saucy answers flung back over their shoulders to a score of admirers
+behind them.
+
+"Aylward!" cried Nigel, spurring forward.
+
+The archer turned his bronzed face, stared for an instant with wild
+eyes, and then, dropping his two ladies, who were instantly carried off
+by his comrades, he rushed to seize the hand which his young master held
+down to him. "Now, by my hilt, Squire Nigel, this is the fairest sight
+of my lifetime!" he cried. "And you, old leather-face! Nay, Simon, I
+would put my arms round your dried herring of a body, if I could but
+reach you. Here is Pommers too, and I read in his eye that he knows me
+well and is as ready to put his teeth into me as when he stood in my
+father's stall."
+
+It was like a whiff of the heather-perfumed breezes of Hankley to see
+his homely face once more. Nigel laughed with sheer joy as he looked at
+him.
+
+"It was an ill day when the King's service called you from my side,"
+said he, "and by Saint Paul! I am right glad to set eyes upon you once
+more! I see well that you are in no wise altered, but the same Aylward
+that I have ever known. But who is this varlet with the great bundle who
+waits upon your movements?"
+
+"It is no less than a feather-bed, fair sir, which he bears upon his
+back, for I would fain bring it to Tilford, and yet it is overlarge for
+me when I take my place with my fellows in the ranks. But indeed this
+war has been a most excellent one, and I have already sent half a
+wagonload of my gear back to Bordeaux to await my homecoming. Yet I have
+my fears when I think of all the rascal foot-archers who are waiting
+there, for some folk have no grace or honesty in their souls, and cannot
+keep their hands from that which belongs to another. But if I may throw
+my leg over yonder spare horse I will come on with you, fair sir, for
+indeed it would be joy to my heart to know that I was riding under your
+banner once again."
+
+So Aylward, having given instructions to the bearer of his feather-bed,
+rode away in spite of shrill protests from his French companions, who
+speedily consoled themselves with those of his comrades who seemed to
+have most to give. Nigel's party was soon clear of the column of archers
+and riding hard in the direction of the Prince's army. They passed by a
+narrow and winding track, through the great wood of Nouaille, and found
+before them a marshy valley down which ran a sluggish stream. Along its
+farther bank hundreds of horses were being watered, and beyond was
+a dense block of wagons. Through these the comrades passed, and then
+topped a small mound from which the whole strange scene lay spread
+before them.
+
+Down the valley the slow stream meandered with marshy meadows on
+either side. A mile or two lower a huge drove of horses were to be seen
+assembled upon the bank. They were the steeds of the French cavalry,
+and the blue haze of a hundred fires showed where King John's men were
+camping. In front of the mound upon which they stood the English line
+was drawn, but there were few fires, for indeed, save their horses,
+there was little for them to cook. Their right rested upon the river,
+and their array stretched across a mile of ground until the left was in
+touch with a tangled forest which guarded it from flank attack. In front
+was a long thick hedge and much broken ground, with a single deeply
+rutted country road cutting through it in the middle. Under the hedge
+and along the whole front of the position lay swarms of archers upon the
+grass, the greater number slumbering peacefully with sprawling limbs
+in the warm rays of the September sun. Behind were the quarters of the
+various knights, and from end to end flew the banners and pennons marked
+with the devices of the chivalry of England and Guienne.
+
+With a glow in his heart Nigel saw those badges of famous captains and
+leaders and knew that now at last he also might show his coat-armor in
+such noble company. There was the flag of Jean Grailly, the Captal de
+Buch, five silver shells on a black cross, which marked the presence of
+the most famous soldier of Gascony, while beside it waved the red lion
+of the noble Knight of Hainault, Sir Eustace d'Ambreticourt. These two
+coats Nigel knew, as did every warrior in Europe, but a dense grove of
+pennoned lances surrounded them, bearing charges which were strange
+to him, from which he understood that these belonged to the Guienne
+division of the army. Farther down the line the famous English ensigns
+floated on the wind, the scarlet and gold of Warwick, the silver star
+of Oxford, the golden cross of Suffolk, the blue and gold of Willoughby,
+and the gold-fretted scarlet of Audley. In the very center of them all
+was one which caused all others to pass from his mind, for close to the
+royal banner of England, crossed with the label of the Prince, there
+waved the war-worn flag with the red wedge upon the golden field which
+marked the quarters of the noble Chandos.
+
+At the sight Nigel set spurs to his horse, and a few minutes later had
+reached the spot. Chandos, gaunt from hunger and want of sleep, but
+with the old fire lurking in his eye, was standing by the Prince's tent,
+gazing down at what could be seen of the French array, and heavy with
+thought. Nigel sprang from his horse and was within touch of his master
+when the silken hanging of the royal tent was torn violently aside and
+Edward rushed out.
+
+He was without his armor and clad in a sober suit of black, but the high
+dignity of his bearing and the imperious anger which flushed his
+face proclaimed the leader and the Prince. At his heels was a little
+white-haired ecclesiastic in a flowing gown of scarlet sendal,
+expostulating and arguing in a torrent of words.
+
+"Not another word, my Lord Cardinal," cried the angry prince. "I have
+listened to you overlong, and by God's dignity! that which you say is
+neither good nor fair in my ears. Hark you, John, I would have your
+counsel. What think you is the message which my Lord Cardinal of
+Perigord has carried from the King of France? He says that of his
+clemency he will let my army pass back to Bordeaux if we will restore
+to him all that we have taken, remit all ransoms, and surrender my own
+person with that of a hundred nobles of England and Guienne to be held
+as prisoners. What think you, John?"
+
+Chandos smiled. "Things are not done in that fashion," said he.
+
+"But my Lord Chandos," cried the Cardinal, "I have made it clear to the
+Prince that indeed it is a scandal to all Christendom and a cause of
+mocking to the heathen, that two great sons of the Church should turn
+their swords thus upon each other."
+
+"Then bid the King of France keep clear of us," said the Prince.
+
+"Fair son, you are aware that you are in the heart of his country and
+that it standeth not aright that he should suffer you to go forth as you
+came. You have but a small army, three thousand bowmen and five thousand
+men-at-arms at the most, who seem in evil case for want of food and
+rest. The King has thirty thousand men at his back, of which twenty
+thousand are expert men-at-arms. It is fitting therefore that you make
+such terms as you may, lest worse befall."
+
+"Give my greetings to the King of France and tell him that England will
+never pay ransom for me. But it seems to me, my Lord Cardinal, that you
+have our numbers and condition very ready upon your tongue, and I
+would fain know how the eye of a Churchman can read a line of battle
+so easily. I have seen that these knights of your household have walked
+freely to and fro within our camp, and I much fear that when I welcomed
+you as envoys I have in truth given my protection to spies. How say you,
+my Lord Cardinal?"
+
+"Fair Prince, I know not how you can find it in your heart or conscience
+to say such evil words."
+
+"There is this red-bearded nephew of thine, Robert de Duras. See where
+he stands yonder, counting and prying. Hark hither, young sir! I have
+been saying to your uncle the Cardinal that it is in my mind that you
+and your comrades have carried news of our dispositions to the French
+King. How say you?"
+
+The knight turned pale and sank his eyes. "My lord," he murmured, "it
+may be that I have answered some questions."
+
+"And how will such answers accord with your honor, seeing that we have
+trusted you since you came in the train of the Cardinal?"
+
+"My lord, it is true that I am in the train of the Cardinal, and yet
+I am liege man of King John and a knight of France, so I pray you to
+assuage your wrath against me."
+
+The Prince ground his teeth and his piercing eyes blazed upon the youth.
+"By my father's soul! I can scarce forbear to strike you to the earth!
+But this I promise you, that if you show that sign of the Red Griffin
+in the field and if you be taken alive in to-morrow's battle, your head
+shall most assuredly be shorn from your shoulders."
+
+"Fair son, indeed you speak wildly," cried the Cardinal. "I pledge you
+my word that neither my nephew Robert nor any of my train will take part
+in the battle. And now I leave you, sire, and may God assoil your soul,
+for indeed in all this world no men stand in greater peril than you and
+those who are around you, and I rede you that you spend the night
+in such ghostly exercises as may best prepare you for that which may
+befall." So saying the Cardinal bowed, and with his household walking
+behind him set off for the spot where they had left their' horses,
+whence they rode to the neighboring Abbey.
+
+The angry Prince turned upon his heel and entered his tent once more,
+whilst Chandos, glancing round, held out a warm welcoming hand to Nigel.
+
+"I have heard much of your noble deeds," said he. "Already your name
+rises as a squire errant. I stood no higher, nor so high, at your age."
+
+Nigel flushed with pride and pleasure. "Indeed, my dear lord, it is very
+little that I have done. But now that I am back at your side I hope that
+in truth I shall learn to bear myself in worthy fashion, for where else
+should I win honor if it be not under your banner."
+
+"Truly, Nigel, you have come at a very good time for advancement. I
+cannot see how we can leave this spot without a great battle which will
+live in men's minds forever. In all our fights in France I cannot call
+to mind any in which they have been so strong or we so weak as now, so
+that there will be the more honor to be gained. I would that we had
+two thousand more archers. But I doubt not that we shall give them much
+trouble ere they drive us out from amidst these hedges. Have you seen
+the French?"
+
+"Nay, fair sir, I have but this moment arrived."
+
+"I was about to ride forth myself to coast their army and observe their
+countenance, so come with me ere the night fall, and we shall see what
+we can of their order and dispositions."
+
+There was a truce betwixt the two forces for the day, on account of the
+ill-advised and useless interposition of the Cardinal of Perigord, Hence
+when Chandos and Nigel had pushed their horses through the long hedge
+which fronted the position they found that many small parties of the
+knights of either army were riding up and down on the plain outside. The
+greater number of these groups were French, since it was very necessary
+for them to know as much as possible of the English defenses; and many
+of their scouts had ridden up to within a hundred yards of the hedge,
+where they were sternly ordered back by the pickets of archers on guard.
+
+Through these scattered knots of horsemen Chandos rode, and as many of
+them were old antagonists it was "Ha, John!" on the one side, and "Ha,
+Raoul!" "Ha, Nicholas!" "Ha, Guichard!" upon the other, as they brushed
+past them. Only one cavalier greeted them amiss, a large, red-faced man,
+the Lord Clermont, who by some strange chance bore upon his surcoat a
+blue virgin standing amid golden sunbeams, which was the very device
+which Chandos had donned for the day. The fiery Frenchman dashed across
+their path and drew his steed back on to its haunches.
+
+"How long is it, my Lord Chandos," said he hotly, "since you have taken
+it upon yourself to wear my arms?"
+
+Chandos smiled. "It is surely you who have mine," said he, "since this
+surcoat was worked for thee by the good nuns of Windsor a long year
+ago."
+
+"If it were not for the truce," said Clermont, "I would soon show you
+that you have no right to wear it."
+
+"Look for it then in the battle to-morrow, and I also will look for
+yours," Chandos answered. "There we can very honorably settle the
+matter."
+
+But the Frenchman was choleric and hard to appease. "You English can
+invent nothing," said he, "and you take for your own whatever you see
+handsome belonging to others." So, grumbling and fuming, he rode upon
+his way, while Chandos, laughing gayly, spurred onward across the plain.
+
+The immediate front of the English line was shrouded with scattered
+trees and bushes which hid the enemy; but when they had cleared these a
+fair view of the great French army lay before them. In the center of
+the huge camp was a long and high pavilion of red silk, with the silver
+lilies of the King at one end of it, and the golden oriflamme, the
+battle-flag of old France, at the other. Like the reeds of a pool from
+side to side of the broad array, and dwindling away as far as their
+eyes could see, were the banners and pennons of high barons and famous
+knights, but above them all flew the ducal standards which showed that
+the feudal muster of all the warlike provinces of France was in the
+field before them.
+
+With a kindling eye Chandos looked across at the proud ensigns of
+Normandy, or Burgundy, of Auvergne, of Champagne, of Vermandois, and
+of Berry, flaunting and gleaming in the rays of the sinking sun. Riding
+slowly down the line he marked with attentive gaze the camp of the
+crossbowmen, the muster of the German mercenaries, the numbers of the
+foot-soldiers, the arms of every proud vassal or vavasor which might
+give some guide as to the power of each division. From wing to wing and
+round the flanks he went, keeping ever within crossbow-shot of the
+army, and then at last having noted all things in his mind he turned his
+horse's head and rode slowly back, heavy with thought, to the English
+lines.
+
+
+
+
+XXV. HOW THE KING OF FRANCE HELD COUNSEL AT MAUPERTUIS
+
+
+The morning of Sunday, the nineteenth of September, in the year of our
+Lord 1356, was cold and fine. A haze which rose from the marshy valley
+of Muisson covered both camps and set the starving Englishmen shivering,
+but it cleared slowly away as the sun rose. In the red silken pavilion
+of the French King--the same which had been viewed by Nigel and Chandos
+the evening before--a solemn mass was held by the Bishop of Chalons, who
+prayed for those who were about to die, with little thought in his mind
+that his own last hour was so near at hand. Then, when communion had
+been taken by the King and his four young sons the altar was cleared
+away, and a great red-covered table placed lengthwise down the tent,
+round which John might assemble his council and determine how best he
+should proceed. With the silken roof, rich tapestries of Arras round
+the walls and Eastern rugs beneath the feet, his palace could furnish no
+fairer chamber.
+
+King John, who sat upon the canopied dais at the upper end, was now in
+the sixth year of his reign and the thirty-sixth of his life. He was a
+short burly man, ruddy-faced and deep-chested, with dark kindly eyes and
+a most noble bearing. It did not need the blue cloak sewed with silver
+lilies to mark him as the King. Though his reign had been short, his
+fame was already widespread over all Europe as a kindly gentleman and a
+fearless soldier--a fit leader for a chivalrous nation. His elder son,
+the Duke of Normandy, still hardly more than a boy, stood beside him,
+his hand upon the King's shoulder, and John half turned from time to
+time to fondle him. On the right, at the same high dais, was the King's
+younger brother, the Duke of Orleans, a pale heavy-featured man, with a
+languid manner and intolerant eyes. On the left was the Duke of Bourbon,
+sad-faced and absorbed, with that gentle melancholy in his eyes and
+bearing which comes often with the premonition of death. All these were
+in their armor, save only for their helmets, which lay upon the board
+before them.
+
+Below, grouped around the long red table, was an assembly of the most
+famous warriors in Europe. At the end nearest the King was the veteran
+soldier the Duke of Athens, son of a banished father, and now High
+Constable of France. On one side of him sat the red-faced and choleric
+Lord Clermont, with the same blue Virgin in golden rays upon his surcoat
+which had caused his quarrel with Chandos the night before. On the other
+was a noble-featured grizzly-haired soldier, Arnold d'Andreghen, who
+shared with Clermont the honor of being Marshal of France. Next to them
+sat Lord James of Bourbon, a brave warrior who was afterwards slain by
+the White Company at Brignais, and beside him a little group of German
+noblemen, including the Earl of Salzburg and the Earl of Nassau, who
+had ridden over the frontier with their formidable mercenaries at the
+bidding of the French King. The ridged armor and the hanging nasals of
+their bassinets were enough in themselves to tell every soldier that
+they were from beyond the Rhine. At the other side of the table were a
+line of proud and warlike Lords, Fiennes, Chatillon, Nesle, de Landas,
+de Beaujeu, with the fierce knight errant de Chargny, he who had planned
+the surprise of Calais, and Eustace de Ribeaumont, who had upon the same
+occasion won the prize of valor from the hands of Edward of England.
+Such were the chiefs to whom the King now turned for assistance and
+advice.
+
+"You have already heard, my friends," said he, "that the Prince of Wales
+has made no answer to the proposal which we sent by the Lord Cardinal of
+Perigord. Certes this is as it should be, and though I have obeyed the
+call of Holy Church I had no fears that so excellent a Prince as Edward
+of England would refuse to meet us in battle. I am now of opinion that
+we should fall upon them at once, lest perchance the Cardinal's cross
+should again come betwixt our swords and our enemies."
+
+A buzz of joyful assent arose from the meeting, and even from the
+attendant men-at-arms who guarded the door. When it had died away the
+Duke of Orleans rose in his place beside the King.
+
+"Sire," said he, "you speak as we would have you do, and I for one am of
+opinion that the Cardinal of Perigord has been an ill friend of France,
+for why should we bargain for a part when we have but to hold out our
+hand in order to grasp the whole? What need is there for words? Let us
+spring to horse forthwith and ride over this handful of marauders who
+have dared to lay waste your fair dominions. If one of them go hence
+save as our prisoner we are the more to blame."
+
+"By Saint Denis, brother!" said the King, smiling, "if words could slay
+you would have had them all upon their backs ere ever we left Chartres.
+You are new to war, but when you have had experience of a stricken field
+or two you would know that things must be done with forethought and in
+order or they may go awry. In our father's time we sprang to horse and
+spurred upon these English at Crecy and elsewhere as you advise, but
+we had little profit from it, and now we are grown wiser. How say you,
+Sieur de Ribeaumont? You have coasted their lines and observed their
+countenance. Would you ride down upon them, as my brother has advised,
+or how would you order the matter?"
+
+De Ribeaumont, a tall dark-eyed handsome man, paused ere he answered.
+"Sire," he said at last, "I have indeed ridden along their front and
+down their flanks, in company with Lord Landas and Lord de Beaujeu, who
+are here at your council to witness to what I say. Indeed, sire, it is
+in my mind that though the English are few in number yet they are
+in such a position amongst these hedges and vines that you would be
+well-advised if you were to leave them alone, for they have no food and
+must retreat, so that you will be able to follow them and to fight them
+to better advantage."
+
+A murmur of disapproval rose from the company, and the Lord Clermont,
+Marshal of the army, sprang to his feet, his face red with anger.
+
+"Eustace; Eustace," said he, "I bear in mind the days when you were of
+great heart and high enterprise, but since King Edward gave you yonder
+chaplet of pearls you have ever been backward against the English!"
+
+"My Lord Clermont," said de Ribeaumont sternly, "it is not for me to
+brawl at the King's council and in the face of the enemy, but we will
+go further into this matter at some other time. Meanwhile, the King has
+asked me for my advice and I have given it as best I might."
+
+"It had been better for your honor, Sir Eustace, had you held your
+peace," said the Duke of Orleans. "Shall we let them slip from our
+fingers when we have them here and are fourfold their number? I know not
+where we should dwell afterwards, for I am very sure that we should be
+ashamed to ride back to Paris, or to look our ladies in the eyes again."
+
+"Indeed, Eustace, you have done well to say what is in your mind,"
+said the King; "but I have already said that we shall join battle this
+morning, so that there is no room here for further talk. But I would
+fain have heard from you how it would be wisest and best that we attack
+them?"
+
+"I will advise you, sire, to the best of my power. Upon their right is a
+river with marshes around it, and upon their left a great wood, so that
+we can advance only upon the center. Along their front is a thick hedge,
+and behind it I saw the green jerkins of their archers, as thick as the
+sedges by the river. It is broken by one road where only four horsemen
+could ride abreast, which leads through the position. It is clear then
+that if we are to drive them back we must cross the great hedge, and
+I am very sure that the horses will not face it with such a storm of
+arrows beating from behind it. Therefore, it is my council that we fight
+upon foot, as the English did at Crecy, for indeed we may find that our
+horses will be more hindrance than help to us this day."
+
+"The same thought was in my own mind, sire," said Arnold d'Andreghen the
+veteran Marshal. "At Crecy the bravest had to turn their backs, for what
+can a man do with a horse which is mad with pain and fear? If we advance
+upon foot we are our own masters, and if we stop the shame is ours."
+
+"The counsel is good," said the Duke of Athens, turning his shrewd
+wizened face to the King; "but one thing only I would add to it. The
+strength of these people lies in their archers, and if we could throw
+them into disorder, were it only for a short time, we should win the
+hedge; else they will shoot so strongly that we must lose many men
+before we reach it, for indeed we have learned that no armor will keep
+out their shafts when they are close."
+
+"Your words, fair sir, are both good and wise," said the King, "but I
+pray you to tell us how you would throw these archers into disorder?"
+
+"I would choose three hundred horsemen, sire, the best and most forward
+in the army. With these I would ride up the narrow road, and so turn
+to right and left, falling upon the archers behind the hedge. It may be
+that the three hundred would suffer sorely, but what are they among so
+great a host, if a road may be cleared for their companions?"
+
+"I would say a word to that, sire," cried the German Count of Nassau, "I
+have come here with my comrades to venture our persons in your quarrel;
+but we claim the right to fight in our own fashion, and we would count
+it dishonor to dismount from our steeds out of fear of the arrows of the
+English. Therefore, with your permission, we will ride to the front,
+as the Duke of Athens has advised, and so clear a path for the rest of
+you."
+
+"This may not be!" cried the Lord Clermont angrily. "It would be strange
+indeed if Frenchmen could not be found to clear a path for the army of
+the King of France. One would think to hear you talk, my Lord Count,
+that your hardihood was greater than our own, but by our Lady of
+Rocamadour you will learn before nightfall that it is not so. It is for
+me, who am a Marshal of France; to lead these three hundred, since it is
+an honorable venture."
+
+"And I claim the same right for the same reason," said Arnold of
+Andreghen.
+
+The German Count struck the table with his mailed fist. "Do what you
+like!" said he. "But this only I can promise you, that neither I nor
+any of my German riders will descend from our horses so long as they are
+able to carry us, for in our country it is only people of no consequence
+who fight upon their feet."
+
+The Lord Clermont was leaning angrily forward with some hot reply when
+King John intervened. "Enough, enough!" he said. "It is for you to give
+your opinions, and for me to tell you what you will do. Lord Clermont,
+and you, Arnold, you will choose three hundred of the bravest cavaliers
+in the army and you will endeavor to break these archers. As to you and
+your Germans, my Lord Nassau, you will remain upon horseback, since you
+desire it, and you will follow the Marshals and support them as best
+you may. The rest of the army will advance upon foot, in three other
+divisions as arranged: yours, Charles," and he patted his son, the Duke
+of Normandy, affectionately upon the hand; "yours, Philip," he glanced
+at the Duke of Orleans; "and the main battle which is my own. To you,
+Geoffrey de Chargny, I intrust the oriflamme this day. But who is this
+knight and what does he desire?"
+
+A young knight, ruddy-bearded and tall, a red griffin upon his surcoat,
+had appeared in the opening of the tent. His flushed face and disheveled
+dress showed that he had come in haste. "Sire," said he, "I am Robert
+de Duras, of the household of the Cardinal de Perigord. I have told you
+yesterday all that I have learned of the English camp. This morning I
+was again admitted to it, and I have seen their wagons moving to the
+rear. Sire, they are in flight for Bordeaux."
+
+"'Fore God, I knew it!" cried the Duke of Orleans in a voice of fury.
+"Whilst we have been talking they have slipped through our fingers. Did
+I not warn you?"
+
+"Be silent, Philip!" said the King angrily. "But you, sir, have you seen
+this with your own eyes?"
+
+"With my own eyes, sire, and I have ridden straight from their camp."
+
+King John looked at him with a stern gaze. "I know not how it accords
+with your honor to carry such tidings in such a fashion," said he; "but
+we cannot choose but take advantage of it. Fear not, brother Philip,
+it is in my mind that you will see all that you would wish of the
+Englishmen before nightfall. Should we fall upon them whilst they cross
+the ford it will be to our advantage. Now, fair sirs, I pray you to
+hasten to your posts and to carry out all that we have agreed. Advance
+the oriflamme, Geoffrey, and do you marshal the divisions, Arnold. So
+may God and Saint Denis have us in their holy keeping this day!"
+
+The Prince of Wales stood upon that little knoll where Nigel had halted
+the day before. Beside him were Chandos, and a tall sun-burned warrior
+of middle age, the Gascon Captal de Buch. The three men were all
+attentively watching the distant French lines, while behind them a
+column of wagons wound down to the ford of the Muisson.
+
+Close in the rear four knights in full armor with open visors sat their
+horses and conversed in undertones with each other. A glance at their
+shields would have given their names to any soldier, for they were all
+men of fame who had seen much warfare. At present they were awaiting
+their orders, for each of them commanded the whole or part of a division
+of the army. The youth upon the left, dark, slim and earnest, was
+William Montacute, Earl of Salisbury, only twenty-eight years of age and
+yet a veteran of Crecy. How high he stood in reputation is shown by the
+fact that the command of the rear, the post of honor in a retreating
+army, had been given to him by the Prince. He was talking to a grizzled
+harsh-faced man, somewhat over middle age, with lion features and fierce
+light-blue eyes which gleamed as they watched the distant enemy. It was
+the famous Robert de Ufford, Earl of Suffolk, who had fought without a
+break from Cadsand onward through the whole Continental War. The other
+tall silent soldier, with the silver star gleaming upon his surcoat,
+was John de Vere, Earl of Oxford, and he listened to the talk of Thomas
+Beauchamp, a burly, jovial, ruddy nobleman and a tried soldier, who
+leaned forward and tapped his mailed hand upon the other's steel-clad
+thigh. They were old battle-companions, of the same age and in the very
+prime of life, with equal fame and equal experience of the wars. Such
+was the group of famous English soldiers who sat their horses behind the
+Prince and waited for their orders.
+
+"I would that you had laid hands upon him," said the Prince angrily,
+continuing his conversation with Chandos, "and yet, perchance, it was
+wiser to play this trick and make them think that we were retreating."
+
+"He has certainly carried the tidings," said Chandos, with a smile. "No
+sooner had the wagons started than I saw him gallop down the edge of the
+wood."
+
+"It was well thought of, John," the Prince remarked, "for it would
+indeed be great comfort if we could turn their own spy against them.
+Unless they advance upon us, I know not how we can hold out another
+day, for there is not a loaf left in the army; and yet if we leave this
+position where shall we hope to find such another?"
+
+"They will stoop, fair sir, they will stoop to our lure. Even now Robert
+de Duras will be telling them that the wagons are on the move, and they
+will hasten to overtake us lest we pass the ford. But who is this, who
+rides so fast? Here perchance may be tidings."
+
+A horseman had spurred up to the knoll. He sprang from the saddle, and
+sank on one knee before the Prince.
+
+"How now, my Lord Audley," said Edward. "What would you have?"
+
+"Sir," said the knight, still kneeling with bowed head before his
+leader, "I have a boon to ask of you."
+
+"Nay, James, rise! Let me hear what I can do."
+
+The famous knight errant, pattern of chivalry for all time; rose and
+turned his swarthy face and dark earnest eyes upon his master. "Sir,"
+said he, "I have ever served most loyally my lord your father and
+yourself, and shall continue so to do so long as I have life. Dear sir,
+I must now acquaint you that formerly I made a vow if ever I should be
+in any battle under your command that I would be foremost or die in the
+attempt. I beg therefore that you will graciously permit me to honorably
+quit my place among the others, that I may post myself in such wise as
+to accomplish my vow."
+
+The Prince smiled, for it was very sure that vow or no vow, permission
+or no permission, Lord James Audley would still be in the van. "Go,
+James," said he, shaking his hand, "and God grant that this day you may
+shine in valor above all knights. But hark, John, what is that?"
+
+Chandos cast up his fierce nose like the eagle which smells slaughter
+afar. "Surely, sir, all is forming even as we had planned it."
+
+From far away there came a thunderous shout. Then another and yet
+another.
+
+"See, they are moving!" cried the Captal de Buch.
+
+All morning they had watched the gleam of the armed squadrons who
+were drawn up in front of the French camp. Now whilst a great blare
+of trumpets was borne to their ears, the distant masses flickered and
+twinkled in the sunlight.
+
+"Yes, yes, they are moving!" cried the Prince.
+
+"They are moving! They are moving!" Down the line the murmur ran. And
+then with a sudden impulse the archers at the hedge sprang to their feet
+and the knights behind them waved their weapons in the air, while
+one tremendous shout of warlike joy carried their defiance to the
+approaching enemy. Then there fell such a silence that the pawing of the
+horses or the jingle of their harness struck loud upon the ear, until
+amid the hush there rose a low deep roar like the sound of the tide upon
+the beach, ever growing and deepening as the host of France drew near.
+
+
+
+
+XXVI. HOW NIGEL FOUND HIS THIRD DEED
+
+
+Four archers lay behind a clump of bushes ten yards in front of the
+thick hedge which shielded their companions. Amid the long line of
+bowmen those behind them were their own company, and in the main the
+same who were with Knolles in Brittany. The four in front were their
+leaders: old Wat of Carlisle, Ned Widdington the red-headed Dalesman,
+the bald bowyer Bartholomew, and Samkin Alyward, newly rejoined after a
+week's absence. All four were munching bread and apples, for Aylward had
+brought in a full haversack and divided them freely amongst his
+starving comrades. The old Borderer and the Yorkshireman were gaunt and
+hollow-eyed with privation, while the bowyer's round face had fallen in
+so that the skin hung in loose pouches under his eyes and beneath his
+jaws.
+
+Behind them lines of haggard, wolfish men glared through the underwood,
+silent and watchful save that they burst into a fierce yelp of welcome
+when Chandos and Nigel galloped up, sprang from their horses and took
+their station beneath them. All along the green fringe of bowmen might
+be seen the steel-clad figures of knights and squires who had pushed
+their way into the front line to share the fortune of the archers.
+
+"I call to mind that I once shot six ends with a Kentish woldsman at
+Ashford--" began the Bowyer.
+
+"Nay, nay, we have heard that story!" said old Wat impatiently. "Shut
+thy clap, Bartholomew, for it is no time for redeless gossip! Walk down
+the line, I pray you, and see if there be no frayed string, nor broken
+nock nor loosened whipping to be mended."
+
+The stout bowyer passed down the fringe of bowmen, amidst a running fire
+of rough wit. Here and there a bow was thrust out at him through the
+hedge for his professional advice.
+
+"Wax your heads!" he kept crying. "Pass down the wax-pot and wax your
+heads. A waxed arrow will pass where a dry will be held. Tom Beverley,
+you jack-fool! where is your bracer-guard? Your string will flay your
+arm ere you reach your up-shot this day. And you, Watkin, draw not to
+your mouth, as is your wont, but to your shoulder. You are so used to
+the wine-pot that the string must needs follow it. Nay, stand loose, and
+give space for your drawing arms, for they will be on us anon."
+
+He ran back and joined his comrades in the front, who had now risen to
+their feet. Behind them a half-mile of archers stood behind the hedge,
+each with his great warbow strung, half a dozen shafts loose behind him,
+and eighteen more in the quiver slung across his front. With arrow
+on string, their feet firm-planted, their fierce eager faces peering
+through the branches, they awaited the coming storm.
+
+The broad flood of steel, after oozing slowly forward, had stopped about
+a mile from the English front. The greater part of the army had then
+descended from their horses, while a crowd of varlets and hostlers led
+them to the rear. The French formed themselves now into three great
+divisions, which shimmered in the sun like silvery pools, reed-capped
+with many a thousand of banners and pennons. A space of several hundred
+yards divided each. At the same time two bodies of horsemen formed
+themselves in front. The first consisted of three hundred men in one
+thick column, the second of a thousand, riding in a more extended line.
+
+The Prince had ridden up to the line of archers. He was in dark armor,
+his visor open, and his handsome aquiline face all glowing with spirit
+and martial fire. The bowmen yelled at him, and he waved his hands to
+them as a huntsman cheers his hounds.
+
+"Well, John, what think you now?" he asked. "What would my noble father
+not give to be by our side this day? Have you seen that they have left
+their horses?"
+
+"Yes, my fair lord, they have learned their lesson," said Chandos.
+"Because we have had good fortune upon our feet at Crecy and elsewhere
+they think that they have found the trick of it. But it is in my mind
+that it is very different to stand when you are assailed, as we have
+done, and to assail others when you must drag your harness for a mile
+and come weary to the fray."
+
+"You speak wisely, John. But these horsemen who form in front and ride
+slowly towards us, what make you of them?"
+
+"Doubtless they hope to cut the strings of our bowmen and so clear a way
+for the others. But they are indeed a chosen band, for mark you,
+fair sir, are not those the colors of Clermont upon the left, and
+of d'Andreghen upon the right, so that both marshals ride with the
+vanguard?"
+
+"By God's soul, John!" cried the Prince, "it is very sure that you can
+see more with one eye than any man in this army with two. But it is even
+as you say. And this larger band behind?"
+
+"They should be Germans, fair sir, by the fashion of their harness."
+
+The two bodies of horsemen had moved slowly over the plain, with a
+space of nearly a quarter of a mile between them. Now, having come two
+bowshots from the hostile line, they halted. All that they could see
+of the English was the long hedge, with an occasional twinkle of steel
+through its leafy branches, and behind that the spear-heads of the
+men-at-arms rising from amidst the brushwood and the vines. A lovely
+autumn countryside with changing many-tinted foliage lay stretched
+before them, all bathed in peaceful sunshine, and nothing save those
+flickering fitful gleams to tell of the silent and lurking enemy who
+barred their way. But the bold spirit of the French cavaliers rose the
+higher to the danger. The clamor of their war-cries filled the air,
+and they tossed their pennoned spears over their heads in menace and
+defiance. From the English line it was a noble sight, the gallant,
+pawing, curveting horses, the many- twinkling riders, the swoop
+and wave and toss of plume and banner.
+
+Then a bugle rang forth. With a sudden yell every spur struck deep,
+every lance was laid in rest, and the whole gallant squadron flew like a
+glittering thunderbolt for the center of the English line.
+
+A hundred yards they had crossed, and yet another hundred, but there
+was no movement in front of them, and no sound save their own hoarse
+battle-cries and the thunder of their horses. Ever swifter and swifter
+they flew. From behind the hedge it was a vision of horses, white,
+bay and black, their necks stretched, their nostrils distended, their
+bellies to the ground, whilst of the rider one could but see a shield
+with a plume-tufted visor above it, and a spear-head twinkling in front.
+
+Then of a sudden the Prince raised his hand and gave a cry. Chandos
+echoed it, it swelled down the line, and with one mighty chorus of
+twanging strings and hissing shafts the long-pent storm broke at last.
+
+Alas for the noble steeds! Alas for the gallant men. When the lust of
+battle is over who would not grieve to see that noble squadron break
+into red ruin before the rain of arrows beating upon the faces and
+breasts of the horses? The front rank crashed down, and the others piled
+themselves upon the top of them, unable to check their speed, or to
+swerve aside from the terrible wall of their shattered comrades which
+had so suddenly sprung up before them. Fifteen feet high was that
+blood-spurting mound of screaming, kicking horses and writhing,
+struggling men. Here and there on the flanks a horseman cleared himself
+and dashed for the hedge, only to have his steed slain under him and to
+be hurled from his saddle. Of all the three hundred gallant riders, not
+one ever reached that fatal hedge.
+
+But now in a long rolling wave of steel the German battalion roared
+swiftly onward. They opened in the center to pass that terrible mound
+of death, and then spurred swiftly in upon the archers. They were brave
+men, well led, and in their open lines they could avoid the clubbing
+together which had been the ruin of the vanguard; yet they perished
+singly even as the others had perished together. A few were slain by the
+arrows. The greater number had their horses killed under them, and were
+so shaken and shattered by the fall that they could not raise their
+limbs, over-weighted with iron, from the spot where they lay.
+
+Three men riding together broke through the bushes which sheltered the
+leaders of the archers, cut down Widdington the Dalesman, spurred onward
+through the hedge, dashed over the bowmen behind it, and made for the
+Prince. One fell with an arrow through his head, a second was beaten
+from his saddle by Chandos, and the third was slain by the Prince's own
+hand. A second band broke through near the river, but were cut off by
+Lord Audley and his squires, so that all were slain. A single horseman
+whose steed was mad with pain, an arrow in its eye and a second in its
+nostril, sprang over the hedge and clattered through the whole army,
+disappearing amid whoops and laughter into the woods behind. But none
+others won as far as the hedge. The whole front of the position was
+fringed with a litter of German wounded or dead, while one great heap in
+the center marked the downfall of the gallant French three hundred.
+
+Whilst these two waves of the attack had broken in front of the English
+position, leaving this blood-stained wreckage behind them, the main
+divisions had halted and made their last preparations for their own
+assault. They had not yet begun their advance, and the nearest was still
+half a mile distant, when the few survivors from the forlorn hope, their
+maddened horses bristling with arrows, flew past them on either flank.
+
+At the same moment the English archers and men-at-arms dashed through
+the hedge, and dragged all who were living out of that tangled heap of
+shattered horses and men. It was a mad wild rush, for in a few minutes
+the fight must be renewed, and yet there was a rich harvest of wealth
+for the lucky man who could pick a wealthy prisoner from amid the crowd.
+The nobler spirits disdained to think of ransoms whilst the fight was
+still unsettled; but a swarm of needy soldiers, Gascons and English,
+dragged the wounded out by the leg or the arm, and with daggers at their
+throats demanded their names, title and means. He who had made a good
+prize hurried him to the rear where his own servants could guard him,
+while he who was disappointed too often drove the dagger home and then
+rushed once more into the tangle in the hope of better luck. Clermont,
+with an arrow through the sky-blue Virgin on his surcoat, lay dead
+within ten paces of the hedge; d'Andreghen was dragged by a penniless
+squire from under a horse and became his prisoner. The Earl of Salzburg
+and of Nassau were both found helpless on the ground and taken to the
+rear. Aylward cast his thick arms round Count Otto von Langenbeck, and
+laid him, helpless from a broken leg, behind his bush. Black Simon had
+made prize of Bernard, Count of Ventadour, and hurried him through
+the hedge. Everywhere there was rushing and shouting, brawling and
+buffeting, while amidst it all a swarm of archers were seeking their
+shafts, plucking them from the dead, and sometimes even from the
+wounded. Then there was a sudden cry of warning. In a moment every man
+was back in his place once more, and the line of the hedge was clear.
+
+It was high time; for already the first division of the French was close
+upon them. If the charge of the horsemen had been terrible from its rush
+and its fire, this steady advance of a huge phalanx of armored footmen
+was even more fearsome to the spectator. They moved very slowly, on
+account of the weight of their armor, but their progress was the more
+regular and inexorable. With elbows touching--their shields slung in
+front, their short five-foot spears carried in their right hands,
+and their maces or swords ready at their belts, the deep column of
+men-at-arms moved onward. Again the storm of arrows beat upon them
+clinking and thudding on the armor. They crouched double behind their
+shields as they met it. Many fell, but still the slow tide lapped
+onward. Yelling, they surged up to the hedge, and lined it for half a
+mile, struggling hard to pierce it.
+
+For five minutes the long straining ranks faced each other with fierce
+stab of spear on one side and heavy beat of ax or mace upon the other.
+In many parts the hedge was pierced or leveled to the ground, and the
+French men-at-arms were raging amongst the archers, hacking and hewing
+among the lightly armed men. For a moment it seemed as if the battle was
+on the turn.
+
+But John de Vere, Earl of Oxford, cool, wise and crafty in war, saw and
+seized his chance. On the right flank a marshy meadow skirted the river.
+So soft was it that a heavily-armed man would sink to his knees. At his
+order a spray of light bowmen was thrown out from the battle line and
+forming upon the flank of the French poured their arrows into them. At
+the same moment Chandos, with Audley, Nigel, Bartholomew Burghersh, the
+Captal de Buch, and a score of other knights sprang upon their horses,
+and charging down the narrow lane rode over the French line in front of
+them. Once through it they spurred to left and right, trampling down the
+dismounted men-at-arms.
+
+A fearsome sight was Pommers that day, his red eyes rolling, his
+nostrils gaping, his tawny mane tossing, and his savage teeth gnashing
+in fury, as he tore and smashed and ground beneath his ramping hoofs
+all that came before him. Fearsome too was the rider, ice-cool; alert,
+concentrated of purpose, with, heart of fire and muscles of steel. A
+very angel of battle he seemed as he drove his maddened horse through
+the thickest of the press, but strive as he would: the tall figure of
+his master upon his coal-black steed was ever half a length before him.
+
+Already the moment of danger was passed. The French line had given back.
+Those who had pierced the hedge had fallen like brave men amid the
+ranks of their foemen. The division of Warwick had hurried up from the
+vineyards to fill the gaps of Salisbury's battle-line. Back rolled the
+shining tide, slowly at first, even as it had advanced, but quicker
+now as the bolder fell and the weaker shredded out and shuffled with
+ungainly speed for a place of safety. Again there was a rush from behind
+the hedge. Again there was a reaping of that strange crop of bearded
+arrows which grew so thick upon the ground, and again the wounded
+prisoners were seized and dragged in brutal haste to the rear. Then the
+line was restored, and the English, weary, panting and shaken, awaited
+the next attack.
+
+But a great good fortune had come to them--so great that as they looked
+down the valley they could scarce credit their own senses. Behind the
+division of the Dauphin, which had pressed them so hard, stood a second
+division hardly less numerous, led by the Duke of Orleans. The fugitives
+from in front, blood-smeared and bedraggled, blinded with sweat and with
+fear, rushed amidst its ranks in their flight, and in a moment, without
+a blow being struck, had carried them off in their wild rout. This vast
+array, so solid and so martial, thawed suddenly away like a snow-wreath
+in the sun. It was gone, and in its place thousands of shining dots
+scattered over the whole plain as each man made his own way to the spot
+where he could find his horse and bear himself from the field. For a
+moment it seemed that the battle was won, and a thundershout of joy
+pealed up from the English line.
+
+But as the curtain of the Duke's division was drawn away it was only to
+disclose stretching far behind it, and spanning the valley from side
+to side, the magnificent array of the French King, solid, unshaken, and
+preparing its ranks for the attack. Its numbers were as great as those
+of the English army; it was unscathed by all that was past, and it had a
+valiant monarch to lead it to the charge. With the slow deliberation of
+the man who means to do or to die, its leader marshaled its ranks for
+the supreme effort of the day.
+
+Meanwhile during that brief moment of exultation when the battle
+appeared to be won, a crowd of hot-headed young knights and squires
+swarmed and clamored round the Prince, beseeching that he would allow
+them to ride forth.
+
+"See this insolent fellow who bears three martlets upon a field gales!"
+cried Sir Maurice Berkeley. "He stands betwixt the two armies as though
+he had no dread of us."
+
+"I pray you, sir, that I may ride out to him, since he seems ready to
+attempt some small deed," pleaded Nigel.
+
+"Nay, fair sirs, it is an evil thing that we should break our line,
+seeing that we still have much to do," said the Prince. "See! he rides
+away, and so the matter is settled."
+
+"Nay, fair prince," said the young knight who had spoken first. "My gray
+horse, Lebryte, could run him down ere he could reach shelter. Never
+since I left Severn side have I seen steed so fleet as mine. Shall I
+not show you?" In an instant he had spurred the charger and was speeding
+across the plain.
+
+The Frenchman, John de Helennes, a squire of Picardy, had waited with a
+burning heart, his soul sick at the flight of the division in which he
+had ridden. In the hope of doing some redeeming exploit, or of meeting
+his own death, he had loitered betwixt the armies, but no movement had
+come from the English lines. Now he had turned his horse's head to join
+the King's array, when the low drumming of hoofs sounded behind him,
+and he turned to find a horseman hard upon his heels. Each had drawn his
+sword, and the two armies paused to view the fight. In the first bout
+Sir Maurice Berkeley's lance was struck from his hand, and as he sprang
+down to recover it the Frenchman ran him through the thigh, dismounted
+from his horse, and received his surrender. As the unfortunate
+Englishman hobbled away at the side of his captor a roar of laughter
+burst from both armies at the spectacle.
+
+"By my ten finger-bones!" cried Aylward, chuckling behind the remains
+of his bush, "he found more on his distaff that time than he knew how to
+spin. Who was the knight?"
+
+"By his arms," said old Wat, "he should either be a Berkeley of the West
+or a Popham of Kent."
+
+"I call to mind that I shot a match of six ends once with a Kentish
+woldsman--" began the fat Bowyer.
+
+"Nay, nay, stint thy talk, Bartholomew!" cried old Wat. "Here is poor
+Ned with his head cloven, and it would be more fitting if you were
+saying aves for his soul, instead of all this bobance and boasting. Now,
+now, Tom of Beverley?"
+
+"We have suffered sorely in this last bout, Wat. There are forty of our
+men upon their backs, and the Dean Foresters on the right are in worse
+case still."
+
+"Talking will not mend it, Tom, and if all but one were on their backs
+he must still hold his ground."
+
+Whilst the archers were chatting, the leaders of the army were in
+solemn conclave just behind them. Two divisions of the French had been
+repulsed, and yet there was many an anxious face as the older knights
+looked across the plain at the unbroken array of the French King
+moving slowly toward them. The line of the archers was much thinned and
+shredded. Many knights and squires had been disabled in the long and
+fierce combat at the hedge. Others, exhausted by want of food, had no
+strength left and were stretched panting upon the ground. Some were
+engaged in carrying the wounded to the rear and laying them under the
+shelter of the trees, whilst others were replacing their broken swords
+or lances from the weapons of the slain. The Captal de Buch, brave and
+experienced as he was, frowned darkly and whispered his misgivings to
+Chandos.
+
+But the Prince's courage flamed the higher as the shadow fell, while his
+dark eyes gleamed with a soldier's pride as he glanced round him at his
+weary comrades, and then at the dense masses of the King's battle which
+now, with a hundred trumpets blaring and a thousand pennons waving,
+rolled slowly over the plain. "Come what may, John, this has been a most
+noble meeting," said he. "They will not be ashamed of us in England.
+Take heart, my friends, for if we conquer we shall carry the glory ever
+with us; but if we be slain then we die most worshipfully and in high
+honor, as we have ever prayed that we might die, and we leave behind
+us our brothers and kinsmen who will assuredly avenge us. It is but one
+more effort, and all will be well. Warwick, Oxford, Salisbury, Suffolk,
+every man to the front! My banner to the front also! Your horses, fair
+sirs! The archers are spent, and our own good lances must win the
+field this day. Advance, Walter, and may God and Saint George be with
+England!"
+
+Sir Walter Woodland, riding a high black horse, took station by the
+Prince, with the royal banner resting in a socket by his saddle. From
+all sides the knights and squires crowded in upon it, until they formed
+a great squadron containing the survivors of the battalions of Warwick
+and Salisbury as well as those of the Prince. Four hundred men-at-arms
+who had been held in reserve were brought up and thickened the array,
+but even so Chandos' face was grave as he scanned it and then turned his
+eyes upon the masses of the Frenchmen.
+
+"I like it not, fair sir. The weight is overgreat," he whispered to the
+Prince.
+
+"How would you order it, John? Speak what is in your mind."
+
+"We should attempt something upon their flank whilst we hold them in
+front. How say you, Jean?" He turned to the Captal de Buch, whose dark,
+resolute face reflected the same misgivings.
+
+"Indeed, John, I think as you do," said he. "The French King is a very
+valiant man, and so are those who are about him, and I know not how we
+may drive them back unless we can do as you advise. If you will give me
+only a hundred men I will attempt it."
+
+"Surely the task is mine, fair sir, since the thought has come from me,"
+said Chandos.
+
+"Nay, John, I would keep you at my side. But you speak well, Jean, and
+you shall do even as you have said. Go ask the Earl of Oxford for a
+hundred men-at-arms and as many hobblers, that you may ride round the
+mound yonder, and so fall upon them unseen. Let all that are left of the
+archers gather on each side, shoot away their arrows, and then fight
+as best they may. Wait till they are past yonder thorn-bush and then,
+Walter, bear my banner straight against that of the King of France. Fair
+sirs, may God and the thought of your ladies hold high your hearts!"
+
+The French monarch, seeing that his footmen had made no impression upon
+the English, and also that the hedge had been well-nigh leveled to the
+ground in the course of the combat, so that it no longer presented an
+obstacle, had ordered his followers to remount their horses, and it was
+as a solid mass of cavalry that the chivalry of France advanced to
+their last supreme effort. The King was in the center of the front
+line, Geoffrey de Chargny with the golden oriflamme upon his right, and
+Eustace de Ribeaumont with the royal lilies upon the left. At his elbow
+was the Duke of Athens, High Constable of France, and round him were the
+nobles of the court, fiery and furious, yelling their warcries as they
+waved their weapons over their heads. Six thousand gallant men of
+the bravest race in Europe, men whose very names are like blasts of
+a battle-trumpet--Beaujeus and Chatillons, Tancarvilles and
+Ventadours--pressed hard behind the silver lilies.
+
+Slowly they moved at first, walking their horses that they might be the
+fresher for the shock. Then they broke into a trot which was quickening
+into a gallop when the remains of the hedge in front of them was
+beaten in an instant to the ground and the broad line of the steel-clad
+chivalry of England swept grandly forth to the final shock. With loose
+rein and busy spur the two lines of horsemen galloped at the top of
+their speed straight and hard for each other. An instant later they
+met with a thunder-crash which was heard by the burghers on the wall of
+Poitiers, seven good miles away.
+
+Under that frightful impact horses fell dead with broken necks, and many
+a rider, held in his saddle by the high pommel, fractured his thighs
+with the shock. Here and there a pair met breast to breast, the horses
+rearing straight upward and falling back upon their masters. But for the
+most part the line had opened in the gallop, and the cavaliers, flying
+through the gaps, buried themselves in the enemy's ranks. Then the
+flanks shredded out, and the thick press in the center loosened until
+there was space to swing a sword and to guide a steed. For ten acres
+there was one wild tumultuous swirl of tossing heads, of gleaming
+weapons which rose and fell, of upthrown hands, of tossing plumes and
+of lifted shields, whilst the din of a thousand war-cries and the
+clash-clash of metal upon metal rose and swelled like the roar and beat
+of an ocean surge upon a rock-bound coast. Backward and forward swayed
+the mighty throng, now down the valley and now up, as each side in turn
+put forth its strength for a fresh rally. Locked in one long deadly
+grapple, great England and gallant France with iron hearts and souls of
+fire strove and strove for mastery.
+
+Sir Walter Woodland, riding hard upon his high black horse, had plunged
+into the swelter and headed for the blue and silver banner of King John.
+Close at his heels in a solid wedge rode the Prince, Chandos, Nigel,
+Lord Reginald Cobham, Audley with his four famous squires, and a score
+of the flower of the English and Gascon knighthood. Holding together and
+bearing down opposition by a shower of blows and by the weight of their
+powerful horses, their progress was still very slow, for ever fresh
+waves of French cavaliers surged up against them and broke in front only
+to close in again upon their rear. Sometimes they were swept backward
+by the rush, sometimes they gained a few paces, sometimes they could but
+keep their foothold, and yet from minute to minute that blue and silver
+flag which waved above the press grew ever a little closer. A dozen
+furious hard-breathing French knights had broken into their ranks, and
+clutched at Sir Walter Woodland's banner, but Chandos and Nigel guarded
+it on one side, Audley with his squires on the other, so that no man
+laid his hand upon it and lived.
+
+But now there was a distant crash and a roar of "Saint George for
+Guienne!" from behind. The Captal de Buch had charged home. "Saint
+George for England!" yelled the main attack, and ever the counter-cry
+came back to them from afar. The ranks opened in front of them. The
+French were giving way. A small knight with golden scroll-work upon his
+armor threw himself upon the Prince and was struck dead by his mace. It
+was the Duke of Athens, Constable of France, but none had time to note
+it, and the fight rolled on over his body. Looser still were the French
+ranks. Many were turning their horses, for that ominous roar from
+the rear had shaken their resolution. The little English wedge poured
+onward, the Prince, Chandos, Audley and Nigel ever in the van.
+
+A huge warrior in black, bearing a golden banner, appeared suddenly in
+a gap of the shredding ranks. He tossed his precious burden to a squire,
+who bore it away. Like a pack of hounds on the very haunch of a deer the
+English rushed yelling for the oriflamme. But the black warrior flung
+himself across their path. "Chargny! Chargny a la recousse!" he
+roared with a voice of thunder. Sir Reginald Cobham dropped before his
+battle-ax, so did the Gascon de Clisson. Nigel was beaten down on to
+the crupper of his horse by a sweeping blow; but at the same instant
+Chandos' quick blade passed through the Frenchman's camail and pierced
+his throat. So died Geoffrey de Chargny; but the oriflamme was saved.
+
+Dazed with the shock, Nigel still kept his saddle, and Pommers, his
+yellow hide mottled with blood, bore him onward with the others. The
+French horsemen were now in full flight; but one stern group of knights
+stood firm, like a rock in a rushing torrent, beating off all, whether
+friend or foe, who tried to break their ranks. The oriflamme had gone,
+and so had the blue and silver banner, but here were desperate men ready
+to fight to the death. In their ranks honor was to be reaped. The Prince
+and his following hurled themselves upon them, while the rest of the
+English horsemen swept onward to secure the fugitives and to win their
+ransoms. But the nobler spirits--Audley, Chandos and the others--would
+have thought it shame to gain money whilst there was work to be done or
+honor to be won. Furious was the wild attack, desperate the prolonged
+defense. Men fell from their saddles for very exhaustion.
+
+Nigel, still at his place near Chandos' elbow, was hotly attacked by
+a short broad-shouldered warrior upon a stout white cob, but Pommers
+reared with pawing fore feet and dashed the smaller horse to the ground.
+The falling rider clutched Nigel's arm and tore him from the saddle, so
+that the two rolled upon the grass under the stamping hoofs, the English
+squire on the top, and his shortened sword glimmered before the visor of
+the gasping, breathless Frenchman.
+
+"Je me rends! je axe rends!" he panted.
+
+For a moment a vision of rich ransoms passed through Nigel's brain. That
+noble palfrey, that gold-flecked armor, meant fortune to the captor. Let
+others have it! There was work still to be done. How could he desert
+the Prince and his noble master for the sake of a private gain? Could
+he lead a prisoner to the rear when honor beckoned him to the van? He
+staggered to his feet, seized Pommers by the mane, and swung himself
+into the saddle.
+
+An instant later he was by Chandos' side once more and they were
+bursting together through the last ranks of the gallant group who had
+fought so bravely to the end. Behind them was one long swath of the
+dead and the wounded. In front the whole wide plain was covered with the
+flying French and their pursuers.
+
+The Prince reined up his steed and opened his visor, whilst his
+followers crowded round him with waving weapons and frenzied shouts
+of victory. "What now, John!" cried the smiling Prince, wiping his
+streaming face with his ungauntleted hand. "How fares it then?"
+
+"I am little hurt, fair lord, save for a crushed hand and a spear-prick
+in the shoulder. But you, sir? I trust you have no scathe?"
+
+"In truth, John, with you at one elbow and Lord Audley at the other, I
+know not how I could come to harm. But alas! I fear that Sir James is
+sorely stricken."
+
+The gallant Lord Audley had dropped upon the ground and the blood oozed
+from every crevice of his battered armor. His four brave Squires--Dutton
+of Dutton, Delves of Doddington, Fowlhurst of Crewe and Hawkstone of
+Wainhill--wounded and weary themselves, but with no thought save for
+their master, unlaced his helmet and bathed his pallid blood-stained
+face.
+
+He looked up at the Prince with burning eyes. "I thank you, sir, for
+deigning to consider so poor a knight as myself," said he in a feeble
+voice.
+
+The Prince dismounted and bent over him. "I am bound to honor you very
+much, James," said he, "for by your valor this day you have won glory
+and renown above us all, and your prowess has proved you to be the
+bravest knight."
+
+"My Lord," murmured the wounded man, "you have a right to say what you
+please; but I wish it were as you say."
+
+"James," said the Prince, "from this time onward I make you a knight
+of my own household, and I settle upon you five hundred marks of yearly
+income from my own estates in England."
+
+"Sir," the knight answered, "God make me worthy of the good fortune you
+bestow upon me. Your knight I will ever be, and the money I will divide
+with your leave amongst these four squires who have brought me whatever
+glory I have won this day." So saying his head fell back, and he lay
+white and silent upon the grass.
+
+"Bring water!" said the Prince. "Let the royal leech see to him; for I
+had rather lose many men than the good Sir James. Ha, Chandos, what have
+we here?"
+
+A knight lay across the path with his helmet beaten down upon his
+shoulders. On his surcoat and shield were the arms of a red griffin.
+
+"It is Robert de Duras the spy," said Chandos.
+
+"Well for him that he has met his end," said the angry Prince. "Put him
+on his shield, Hubert, and let four archers bear him to the monastery.
+Lay him at the feet of the Cardinal and say that by this sign I greet
+him. Place my flag on yonder high bush, Walter, and let my tent be
+raised there, that my friends may know where to seek me."
+
+The flight and pursuit had thundered far away, and the field was
+deserted save for the numerous groups of weary horsemen who were making
+their way back, driving their prisoners before them. The archers were
+scattered over the whole plain, rifling the saddle-bags and gathering
+the armor of those who had fallen, or searching for their own scattered
+arrows.
+
+Suddenly, however, as the Prince was turning toward the bush which he
+had chosen for his headquarters, there broke out from behind him an
+extraordinary uproar and a group of knights and squires came pouring
+toward him, all arguing, swearing and abusing each other in French and
+English at the tops of their voices. In the midst of them limped a stout
+little man in gold-spangled armor, who appeared to be the object of the
+contention, for one would drag him one way and one another, as though
+they would pull him limb from limb. "Nay, fair sirs, gently, gently, I
+pray you!" he pleaded. "There is enough for all, and no need to treat me
+so rudely." But ever the hubbub broke out again, and swords gleamed as
+the angry disputants glared furiously at each other. The Prince's eyes
+fell upon the small prisoner, and he staggered back with a gasp of
+astonishment.
+
+"King John!" he cried.
+
+A shout of joy rose from the warriors around him. "The King of France!
+The King of France a prisoner!" they cried in an ecstasy.
+
+"Nay, nay, fair sirs, let him not hear that we rejoice! Let no word
+bring pain to his soul!" Running forward the Prince clasped the French
+King by the two hands.
+
+"Most welcome, sire!" he cried. "Indeed it is good for us that so
+gallant a knight should stay with us for some short time, since the
+chance of war has so ordered it. Wine there! Bring wine for the King!"
+
+But John was flushed and angry. His helmet had been roughly torn off,
+and blood was smeared upon his cheek. His noisy captors stood around
+him in a circle, eying him hungrily like dogs who have been beaten
+from their quarry. There were Gascons and English, knights, squires and
+archers, all pushing and straining.
+
+"I pray you, fair Prince, to get rid of these rude fellows," said King
+John, "for indeed they have plagued me sorely. By Saint Denis! my arm
+has been well-nigh pulled from its socket."
+
+"What wish you then?" asked the Prince, turning angrily upon the noisy
+swarm of his followers.
+
+"We took him, fair lord. He is ours!" cried a score of voices. They
+closed in, all yelping together like a pack of wolves. "It was I, fair
+lord!"--"Nay, it was I!"--"You lie, you rascal, it was I!" Again their
+fierce eyes glared and their blood-stained hands sought the hilts of
+their weapons.
+
+"Nay, this must be settled here and now!" said the Prince. "I crave your
+patience, fair and honored sir, for a few brief minutes, since indeed
+much ill-will may spring from this if it be not set at rest. Who is this
+tall knight who can scarce keep his hands from the King's shoulder?"
+
+"It is Denis de Morbecque, my lord, a knight of St. Omer, who is in our
+service, being an outlaw from France."
+
+"I call him to mind. How then, Sir Denis? What say you in this matter?"
+
+"He gave himself to me, fair lord. He had fallen in the press, and
+I came upon him and seized him. I told him that I was a knight from
+Artois, and he gave me his glove. See here, I bear it in my hand."
+
+"It is true, fair lord! It is true!" cried a dozen French voices.
+
+"Nay, sir, judge not too soon!" shouted an English squire, pushing
+his way to the front. "It was I who had him at my mercy, and he is my
+prisoner, for he spoke to this man only because he could tell by his
+tongue that he was his own countryman. I took him, and here are a score
+to prove it."
+
+"It is true, fair lord. We saw it and it was even so," cried a chorus of
+Englishmen.
+
+At all times there was growling and snapping betwixt the English and
+their allies of France. The Prince saw how easily this might set a light
+to such a flame as could not readily be quenched. It must be stamped out
+now ere it had time to mount.
+
+"Fair and honored lord," he said to the King, "again I pray you for a
+moment of patience. It is your word and only yours which can tell us
+what is just and right. To whom were you graciously pleased to commit
+your royal person?"
+
+King John looked up from the flagon which had been brought to him and
+wiped his lips with the dawnings of a smile upon his ruddy face.
+
+"It was not this Englishman," he said, and a cheer burst from the
+Gascons, "nor was it this bastard Frenchman," he added. "To neither of
+them did I surrender."
+
+There was a hush of surprise.
+
+"To whom then, sir?" asked the Prince.
+
+The King looked slowly round. "There was a devil of a yellow horse,"
+said he. "My poor palfrey went over like a skittle-pin before a ball. Of
+the rider I know nothing save that he bore red roses on a silver
+shield. Ah! by Saint Denis, there is the man himself, and there his
+thrice-accursed horse!"
+
+His head swimming, and moving as if in a dream, Nigel found himself the
+center of the circle of armed and angry men.
+
+The Prince laid his hand upon his shoulder. "It is the little cock of
+Tilford Bridge," said he. "On my father's soul, I have ever said that
+you would win your way. Did you receive the King's surrender?"
+
+"Nay, fair lord, I did not receive it."
+
+"Did you hear him give it?"
+
+"I heard, sir, but I did not know that it was the King. My master Lord
+Chandos had gone on, and I followed after."
+
+"And left him lying. Then the surrender was not complete, and by the
+laws of war the ransom goes to Denis de Morbecque, if his story be
+true."
+
+"It is true," said the King. "He was the second."
+
+"Then the ransom is yours, Denis. But for my part I swear by my father's
+soul that I had rather have the honor this Squire has gathered than all
+the richest ransoms of France."
+
+At these words spoken before that circle of noble warriors Nigel's heart
+gave one great throb, and he dropped upon his knee before the Prince.
+"Fair lord, how can I thank you?" he murmured. "These words at least are
+more than any ransom."
+
+"Rise up!" said the smiling Prince, and he smote with his sword upon
+his shoulder. "England has lost a brave Squire, and has gained a gallant
+knight. Nay, linger not, I pray! Rise up, Sir Nigel!"
+
+
+
+
+XXVII. HOW THE THIRD MESSENGER CAME TO COSFORD
+
+
+Two months have passed, and the long <DW72>s of Hindhead are russet with
+the faded ferns--the fuzzy brown pelt which wraps the chilling earth.
+With whoop and scream the wild November wind sweeps over the great
+rolling downs, tossing the branches of the Cosford beeches, and rattling
+at the rude latticed windows. The stout old knight of Duplin, grown even
+a little stouter, with whiter beard to fringe an ever redder face, sits
+as of yore at the head of his own board. A well-heaped platter flanked
+by a foaming tankard stands before him. At his right sits the Lady Mary,
+her dark, plain, queenly face marked deep with those years of weary
+waiting, but bearing the gentle grace and dignity which only sorrow and
+restraint can give. On his left is Matthew, the old priest. Long ago
+the golden-haired beauty had passed from Cosford to Fernhurst, where
+the young and beautiful Lady Edith Brocas is the belle of all Sussex, a
+sunbeam of smiles and merriment, save perhaps when her thoughts for an
+instant fly back to that dread night when she was plucked from under the
+very talons of the foul hawk of Shalford.
+
+The old knight looked up as a fresh gust of wind with a dash of rain
+beat against the window behind him. "By Saint Hubert, it is a wild
+night!" said he. "I had hoped to-morrow to have a flight at a heron of
+the pool or a mallard in the brook. How fares it with little Katherine
+the peregrine, Mary?"
+
+"I have joined the wing, father, and I have imped the feathers; but I
+fear it will be Christmas ere she can fly again."
+
+"This is a hard saying," said Sir John; "for indeed I have seen no
+bolder better bird. Her wing was broken by a heron's beak last Sabbath
+sennight, holy father, and Mary has the mending of it."
+
+"I trust, my son, that you had heard mass ere you turned to worldly
+pleasure upon God's holy day," Father Matthew answered.
+
+"Tut, tut!" said the old knight, laughing. "Shall I make confession at
+the head of my own table? I can worship the good God amongst his own
+works, the woods and the fields, better than in yon pile of stone and
+wood. But I call to mind a charm for a wounded hawk which was taught me
+by the fowler of Gaston de Foix. How did it run? 'The lion of the Tribe
+of Judah, the root of David, has conquered.' Yes, those were the words
+to be said three times as you walk round the perch where the bird is
+mewed."
+
+The old priest shook his head. "Nay, these charms are tricks of the
+Devil," said he. "Holy Church lends them no countenance, for they are
+neither good nor fair. But how is it now with your tapestry, Lady Mary?
+When last I was beneath this roof you had half done in five fair colors
+the story of Theseus and Ariadne."
+
+"It is half done still, holy father."
+
+"How is this, my daughter? Have you then so many calls?"
+
+"Nay, holy father, her thoughts are otherwhere," Sir John answered.
+"She will sit an hour at a time, the needle in her hand and her soul a
+hundred leagues from Cosford House. Ever since the Prince's battle--"
+
+"Good father, I beg you--"
+
+"Nay, Mary, none can hear me, save your own confessor, Father Matthew.
+Ever since the Prince's battle, I say, when we heard that young Nigel
+had won such honor she is brain-wode, and sits ever--well, even as you
+see her now."
+
+An intent look had come into Mary's eyes; her gaze was fixed upon the
+dark rain-splashed window. It was a face carved from ivory, white-lipped
+and rigid, on which the old priest looked.
+
+"What is it, my daughter? What do you see?"
+
+"I see nothing, father."
+
+"What is it then that disturbs you?"
+
+"I hear, father."
+
+"What do you hear?"
+
+"There are horsemen on the road."
+
+The old knight laughed. "So it goes on, father. What day is there that a
+hundred horsemen do not pass our gate, and yet every clink of hoofs sets
+her poor heart a-trembling. So strong and steadfast she has ever been,
+my Mary, and now no sound too slight to shake her to the soul! Nay,
+daughter, nay, I pray you!"
+
+She had half-risen from her chair, her hands clenched and her dark,
+startled eyes still fixed upon the window. "I hear them, father! I hear
+them amid the wind and the rain! Yes, yes, they are turning--they have
+turned! My God, they are at our very door!"
+
+"By Saint Hubert, the girl is right!" cried old Sir John, beating his
+fist upon the board. "Ho, varlets, out with you to the yard! Set the
+mulled wine on the blaze once more! There are travelers at the gate,
+and it is no night to keep a dog waiting at our door. Hurry, Hannekin!
+Hurry, I say, or I will haste you with my cudgel!"
+
+Plainly to the ears of all men could be heard the stamping of the
+horses. Mary had stood up, quivering in every limb. An eager step at
+the threshold, the door was flung wide, and there in the opening stood
+Nigel, the rain gleaming upon his smiling face, his cheeks flushed with
+the beating of the wind, his blue eyes shining with tenderness and love.
+Something held her by the throat, the light of the torches danced up and
+down; but her strong spirit rose at the thought that others should see
+that inner holy of holies of her soul. There is a heroism of women to
+which no valor of man can attain. Her eyes only carried him her message
+as she held out her hand.
+
+"Welcome, Nigel!" said she.
+
+He stooped and kissed it.
+
+"Saint Catharine has brought me home," said he.
+
+A merry supper it was at Cosford Manor that night, with Nigel at the
+head betwixt the jovial old knight and the Lady Mary, whilst at the
+farther end Samkin Aylward, wedged between two servant maids, kept his
+neighbors in alternate laughter and terror as he told his tales of the
+French Wars. Nigel had to turn his doeskin heels and show his little
+golden spurs. As he spoke of what was passed Sir John clapped him on the
+shoulder, while Mary took his strong right hand in hers, and the good
+old priest smiling blessed them both. Nigel had drawn a little golden
+ring from his pocket, and it twinkled in the torchlight.
+
+"Did you say that you must go on your way to-morrow, father?" he asked
+the priest.
+
+"Indeed, fair son, the matter presses."
+
+"But you may bide the morning?"
+
+"It will suffice if I start at noon."
+
+"Much may be done in a morning." He looked at Mary, who blushed and
+smiled. "By Saint Paul! I have waited long enough."
+
+"Good, good!" chuckled the old knight, with wheezy laughter. "Even so I
+wooed your mother, Mary. Wooers were brisk in the olden time. To-morrow
+is Tuesday, and Tuesday is ever a lucky day. Alas! that the good Dame
+Ermyntrude is no longer with us to see it done! The old hound must run
+us down, Nigel, and I hear its bay upon my own heels; but my heart will
+rejoice that before the end I may call you son. Give me your hand, Mary,
+and yours, Nigel. Now, take an old man's blessing, and may God keep and
+guard you both, and give you your desert, for I believe on my soul that
+in all this broad land there dwells no nobler man nor any woman more
+fitted to be his mate!"
+
+There let us leave them, their hearts full of gentle joy, the golden
+future of hope and promise stretching out before their youthful eyes.
+Alas for those green spring dreaming! How often do they fade and wither
+until they fall and rot, a dreary sight, by the wayside of life! But
+here, by God's blessing, it was not so, for they burgeoned and they
+grew, ever fairer and more noble, until the whole wide world might
+marvel at the beauty of it.
+
+It has been told elsewhere how as the years passed Nigel's name rose
+higher in honor; but still Mary's would keep pace with it, each helping
+and sustaining the other upon an ever higher path. In many lands did
+Nigel carve his fame, and ever as he returned spent and weary from his
+work he drank fresh strength and fire and craving for honor from her
+who glorified his home. At Twynham Castle they dwelled for many years,
+beloved and honored by all. Then in the fullness of time they came back
+to the Tilford Manor-house and spent their happy, healthy age amid those
+heather downs where Nigel had passed his first lusty youth, ere ever he
+turned his face to the wars. Thither also came Aylward when he had left
+the "Pied Merlin" where for many a year he sold ale to the men of the
+forest.
+
+But the years pass; the old wheel turns and ever the thread runs out.
+The wise and the good, the noble and the brave, they come from the
+darkness, and into the darkness they go, whence, whither and why, who
+may say? Here is the <DW72> of Hindhead. The fern still glows russet
+in November, the heather still burns red in July; but where now is the
+Manor of Cosford? Where is the old house of Tilford? Where, but for a
+few scattered gray stones, is the mighty pile of Waverley? And yet
+even gnawing Time has not eaten all things away. Walk with me toward
+Guildford, reader, upon the busy highway. Here, where the high green
+mound rises before us, mark yonder roofless shrine which still stands
+foursquare to the winds. It is St. Catharine's, where Nigel and Mary
+plighted their faith. Below lies the winding river, and over yonder you
+still see the dark Chantry woods which mount up to the bare summit,
+on which, roofed and whole, stands that Chapel of the Martyr where the
+comrades beat off the archers of the crooked Lord of Shalford. Down
+yonder on the flanks of the long chalk hills one traces the road by
+which they made their journey to the wars. And now turn hither to the
+north, down this sunken winding path! It is all unchanged since Nigel's
+day. Here is the Church of Compton. Pass under the aged and crumbling
+arch. Before the steps of that ancient altar, unrecorded and unbrassed,
+lies the dust of Nigel and of Mary. Near them is that of Maude their
+daughter, and of Alleyne Edricson, whose spouse she was; their children
+and children's children are lying by their side. Here too, near the
+old yew in the churchyard, is the little mound which marks where Samkin
+Aylward went back to that good soil from which he sprang.
+
+So lie the dead leaves; but they and such as they nourish forever that
+great old trunk of England, which still sheds forth another crop and
+another, each as strong and as fair as the last. The body may lie in
+moldering chancel, or in crumbling vault, but the rumor of noble lives,
+the record of valor and truth, can never die, but lives on in the
+soul of the people. Our own work lies ready to our hands; and yet our
+strength may be the greater and our faith the firmer if we spare an
+hour from present toils to look back upon the women who were gentle and
+strong, or the men who loved honor more than life, on this green stage
+of England where for a few short years we play our little part.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Sir Nigel, by Arthur Conan Doyle
+
+*** 
\ No newline at end of file