“ W IT H N E IT H E R SAD D LE NOR STIRR U PS TO H E L P H IM , AN D T H E BEAST RAM PIN G

A N D R EA RIN G L IK E A M AD T H IN G BEN E A TH H IM , IIE W AS H A R D

PRESSED TO H O LD IDS O W N .”

(See page 615.)

 T he St r a n d M agazine.
Vol. xxx. D EC EM BER , 1905. No. 180

SIR NIGEL.
B y A . C O N A N D O Y L E .
CHAPTER I. slowly across, until the last thin blue gleam
T H E HOUSE OK LO R 1 NG. faded away and the whole vast sweep of the
N the month of July of the heavens was one great leaden arch.
year 1348, between the feasts Then the rain began to fall. All day it
of St. Benedict and of St. rained, and all the night, and all the week,
Swithin, a strange thing came and all the month, until folk had forgotten the
upon England, for out of the blue heavens and the gleam of the sunshine.
east there drifted a monstrous It was not heavy, but it was steady and cold
cloud, purple and piled, heavy with evil, and unceasing, so that the people were weary
climbing slowly up the hushed heaven. In of its hissing and its splashing, with the slow
the shadow of that strange cloud the leaves drip from the eaves. Always the same thick
drooped in the trees, the birds ceased their evil cloud flowed from east to west with the
calling, and the cattle and the sheep gathered rain beneath it. None could see for more
cowering under than a bow­
the hedges. A shot from their
gloom fell upon dwellings for the
all the land, and drifting veil of
men stood with the rainstorms.
their eyes upon Every m o r n ­
the strange cloud i n g the f o l k
and a heaviness looked upwards
upon their hearts. for a break, but
They crept into their eyes
th e ch u rch e s, rested a l w a y s
where the trem­ upon the same
bl i ng p e o p l e endl es s cloud,
were blessed and until at last they
shriven by the ceased to look
trembling priests. up, and their
Outside no bird hearts despaired
flew, and there of ever seeing
came no rustling the change. It
from the woods, was raining at
nor any of the Lammastide and
homely sounds raining at the
of Nature. All Feas t o f th e
was still, and no­ Nativity, and still
th in g m o v e d r ai ni ng at
save only t h e M i c h a e 1 m as.
great cloud The crops and
which rolled up the hay, sodden
and onwards with and black, had
fold on fold from rotted in t h e
the black hori­ fields, for they
z on. To the were not worth
west was the the g arn erin g .
bright s umme r The sheep had
sky, to the east di ed and the
this b ro o d in g calves also, so
cloud-bank, there was little
c r e e p i n g ever M E N ST O OD W I T H E Y E S UPON T H E S T R A N G E CL O U D . to kill w h e n
Vol. xxx.—76. Copyright, 1905, by A. Conan Doyle, in the United States of America.
 604 TH E ST R A N D M AG A ZIN E.

Martinmas came and it was time to salt the But there were few so far-sighted that they
meat for the winter. They feared a famine, could see that here as ever good was coming
but it was worse than famine which was in out of evil. At the moment misery and ruin
store for them. were brought into every family. The dead
For the rain had ceased at last, and a cattle, the ungarnered crops, the untilled
sickly autumn sun shone upon a land which lands—every spring of wealth had dried up
was soaked and sodden with water. Wet and at the same moment. Those who were rich
rotten leaves reeked and festered under the became poor, but those who were poor
foul haze which rose from the woods. The already, and especially those who were poor
fields were spotted with monstrous fungi of with the burden of gentility upon their
a size and colour never matched before— shoulders, found themselves in a perilous
scarlet, and mauve, and liver, and black. It state. All through England the smaller
was as though the sick earth had burst into gentry were ruined, for they had no trade
foul pustules ; mildew and lichen mottled the save war, and they drew their living from the
walls, and with that filthy crop Death sprang work of others. On many a manor-house
also from the water-soaked earth. Men died there came evil times, and on none more than
and women and children, the baron in the on the manor of Tilford, where for many
castle, the franklin on the farm, the monk in generations the noble family of the Lorings
the abbey, and the villein in his wattle-and- had held their home.
daub cottage. All breathed the same polluted There was a time when the Lorings had
reek and all died the same death of corrup­ held the country from the North Downs to
tion. Of those who were stricken none the lakes of Frensham, and when their grim
recovered, and the illness was ever the same castle-keep, rising above the green meadows
—gross boils, raving, and the black blotches which border the river Wey, had been the
which gave its name to the disease. All strongest fortalice betwixt Guildford Castle in
through the winter the dead rotted by the the east and Winchester in the west. But
wayside for want of someone to bury them. there came that Barons’ War in which the
In many a village no single man was left King used his Saxon subjects as a whip with
alive. Then at last the spring came, with which to scourge his Norman barons, and
sunshine and health and lightness and Castle Loring, like so many other great
laughter—the greenest, sweetest, tenderest strongholds, was swept from the face of the
spring that England had ever known—but land. From that time the Lorings, with
only half of England could know it. The estates sadly curtailed, lived in what had been
other half had passed away with the great the dower-house, with enough left them to
purple cloud. ensure a rude plenty, but not enough for
Yet it was there, in the steam of death, splendour. And then came their lawsuit
in the re&k of corruption, that the brighter with Waverley Abbey, and the Cistercians
and freer England was born. There, in that laid claim to their richest land, with peccary,
dark hour, the first streak of the new dawn turbary, and feudal rights over the remainder.
was seen. For in no way, save by a great It straggled on for years, this great lawsuit,
upheaval and change, could the nation break and when it was finished the men of the
away from the iron feudal system which Church and the men of the law had divided
held her limbs. But now it was a new all that was richest of the estate between
country which came out from that year of them. There was still left the old manor-
death. The barons were dead in swathes. house, from which with each generation there
No high turret nor cunning moat could keep came a soldier to uphold the credit of the
out that black commoner who struck them name and to show the five scarlet roses on
down. Oppressive laws slackened for want the silver shield where it had always been
of those who could enforce them, and, once shown—in the van. There were twelve
slackened, could never be enforced again. bronzes in the little chapel where Mathew
The labourer would be a slave no longer. the priest said mass every morning, all of
The bondsman snapped his shackles. There men of the house of Loring. Two lay with
was much to do, and few left to do it. their legs crossed, as being from the Crusades.
Therefore the few should be free men, name Six others rested their feet upon lions, as
their own price, and work where and for having died in war. Four only lay with the
whom they would. It was the Black Death effigy of their hounds to show that they had
which cleared the way for that great rising passed in peace.
thirty years later, which left the English Of this famous but impoverished family,
peasant the freest of his class in Europe. doubly impoverished by law and by pesti-
 SIR N IG EL. 605

lence, two members were living in the year by a violent death, could not hear that this,
of grace 1349— Lady Ermyntrude Loring the last of the Lorings, the final bud of so
and her grandson Nigel. Lady Ermyntrude’s famous an old tree, should share the same
husband had fallen before the Scottish spear­ fate. With a w'eary heart, but with a smiling
men at Stirling, and her son Eustace, Nigel’s face, he bore with his uneventful days, while
father, had found a glorious death nine years she would ever put off the evil time until the
before this chronicle opens upon the poop of harvest was better, until the monks of
a Norman galley at the sea-fight of Sluys. Waverley should give up what they had
The lonely old woman, fierce and brooding taken, until his uncle should die and leave
like the falcon mewed in her chamber, was money for his outfit, or any other excuse
soft only towards the lad whom she had with which she could hold him to her
brought up All the tenderness and love side. And, indeed, there was need for
of her nature, so a man at Tilford,
hi dden f r o m for the strife be­
others that they twixt the Abbey
could not ima­ and the manor-
gine their exist- house had never
e n c e , were been appeased,
l av i s he d upon and still on one
him. She could pretext or an­
not b ear him other the monks
away from her, would clip off yet
and he, with another slice of
that respect their neighbour’s
for a u t h o ­ land. Over the
rity which the wi ndi ng river,
age demanded, across the green
woul d not go meadow's, rose
without her bless­ the short square
ing and consent. tow'er and the
So it came about high grey walls of
that Nigel, with the grim Abbey,
his lion heart and with its bell toll­
with the blood ing by day and
of a hundred night, a hoarse
soldiers thrilling voice of menace
in his veins, still and of dread to
at the age of two- the little house­
a n d - twenty hold. It is in
wasted the weary the heart of the
days reclaiming great Cistercian
his hawks with monastery that
leash and lure or this chronicle of
traini n g t h e old days must
a l a uns and take its start,
spani el s w h o a s we t r a c e
shared with the N I G E L W A S T E D T H E W E A R Y D A Y S R E C L A I M I N G H IS H A W K S W I T H
LEASH AND L U RE.”
the feud betwixt
family the the monks and
big earthen-doored hall of the manor-house. the house of Loring, with those events to
Day by day the aged Lady Ermyntrude which it gave birth, ending with the coming
had seen him wax in strength and in man of Chandos, the strange spear running of Til-
hood, small of stature, it is true, but ford Bridge, and the three deeds with which
with muscles of steel and a soul ol fire. Nigel won the wish of his heart. Elsew'here,
From all parts, from the warden of Guildford in the chronicle of “ The White Company,”
Castle, from the tilt-yard of Farnham, tales it has been set forth what manner of man was
of his prowess wrere brought back to her, of Nigel Loring. Those wrho love him may read
his daring as a rider, of his debonair courage, herein the things which w'ent to his making.
of his skill with all weapons; hut still she, Let us go back, then, together and gaze upon
who had both husband and son torn from her this green stage of England— the scenery,
 6o6 THE STR AN D M AGAZIN E.

hill, plain, and river, even as now ; the actors skirted a covered walk for the brethren within.
in some things our very selves ; in others, Two and two in their black and white garb,
so changed in thought and act that they with slow step and heads inclined, they paced
might be dwellers in another world. round and round. Several of the more
studious had brought their illuminating work
C H A P T E R II. from the scriptorium, and sat in the warm
HOW T H E D E V IL CAM E TO W A V ERLEV . sunshine with their little platters of pigments
T h e day was the first of May, which was the and packets of gold leaf before them, their
festi val of t h e
bl essed Apostles
Philip and James.
The year was the
one thousand three
hundred and forty-
ninth from man's
salvation.
From tierce to
sext, and t h e n
again from sext to
nones, Abbot John
of the house of
Waverley had been
seated in his study
whilst he c o n ­
ducted the many
high duties of his
office. All round
for many a mile
on ever y s i d e
stretched the fer­
tile and flourishing
estate of which he
was the master.
In the centre lay
the broad Abbey
bui l di ngs, with
church and clois­
ters, hospi ti um,
chapter-house, and
frater - house, all
buzzi ng with a
busy life. Through
the open window
came the low hum
of the voices of
the brethren as
they wal ked in “
tw o and tw o in th e ir black an d ,w h it e g a r b ,w ith slo w st ep a n d h ea d s in c lin ed

pi ous conve r s e T H E Y P A C E D RO UN D A N D R O U N D . "

in the ambulatory
below. From across the cloisters there shoulders rounded and their faces sunk low
rolled the distant rise and fall of a Gregorian over the white sheets of vellum. There, too,
chaunt, where the precentor was hard at was the copper-worker with his burin and
work upon the choir ; while down in the graver. Learning and art were not traditions
chapter-house sounded the strident voice with the Cistercians as with the parent Order
of Brother Peter, expounding the rule of of the Benedictines, and yet the library of
St. Bernard to the novices. Abbot John Waverley was well filled both with precious
rose to stretch his cramped limbs. He looked books and with pious students. But the true
out at the green sward of the cloisters and at glory of the Cistercian lay in his outdoor
the graceful line of open Gothic arches which work; and so ever and anon there passed
 S IX N IG EL. 607

through the cloister some sunburned monk, and its dealings with the outer world entirely
soiled mattock or shovel in hand, with his under his control, subject only to the check
gown looped to his knee, fresh from the fields of the Abbot. Brother Samuel was a gnarled
or the garden. The lush green water-meadows and stringy old monk whose stern and sharp-
speckled with the heavy-fleeced sheep, the featured face reflected no light from above,
acres of comland reclaimed from heather and but only that sordid, workaday world towards
bracken, the vineyards on the southern slope which it was for ever turned. A huge book
of Crooksbury Hill, the rows of Hankley fish­ of accounts was tucked under one of his
ponds, the Frensham marshes drained and arms, while a great bunch of keys hung from
sown with vegetables, the spacious pigeon- the other hand, a badge of his office, and
cotes, all circled the great Abbey round with also, on occasion of impatience, a weapon of
the visible labours of the Order. offence, as many a scarred head among
The Abbot’s full and florid face shone rustics and lay-brothers could testify.
with a quiet content as he looked out at The Abbot sighed wearily, for he suffered
his huge but well-ordered household. Like much at the hands of his strenuous agent.
every head of a prosperous Abbey, Abbot “ Well, Brother Samuel, what is your will?"
John, the fourth of the name, was a man of he asked.
varied accomplishments. Through his own “ Holy father, I have to report to you that
chosen instruments he had to minister a I have sold the wool to Master Baldwin of
great estate, and to keep order and decorum Winchester at two shillings a bale more than
among a large body of men living a celibate it fetched last year, for the murrain among
life. He was a rigid disciplinarian towards the sheep has raised the price.”
all beneath him, a supple diplomatist to all “ You have done well, brother.”
above. He held high debate with neigh­ “ I have also to tell you that I have
bouring abbots and lords, with bishops, with distrained Wat the warrenei from his cottage,
Papal legates, and even on occasion with the for his Christmas rent is still unpaid, nor the
King’s Majesty himself. Many were the henrents of last year.”
subjects with which he must be conversant. “ He has a wife and four children,
Questions of doctrine, questions of building, brother.” He was a good, easy man, the
points of forestry, of agriculture, of drainage, Abbot, though liable to be overborne by his
of feudal law, all came to the Abbot for sterner subordinate.
settlement. He held the scales of justice in “ It is true, holy father; but if I should
all the Abbey banlieue, which stretched over pass him, then how am I to ask the rent of
many a mile of Hampshire and of Surrey. the foresters of Puttenham or the hinds in
To the monks his displeasure might mean the village ? Such a thing spreads from
fasting, exile to some sterner community, or house to house, and where then is the wealth
even imprisonment in chains. Over the of Waverley ? ”
layman also he could hold any punishment “ What else, Brother Samuel ? ”
save only corporeal death, instead of which “ There is the matter of the fish-ponds.”
he had in hand the far more dreadful weapon The Abbot’s face brightened. It was a
of spiritual excommunication. Such were subject upon which he was an authority. If
the powers of the Abbot, and it is no wonder the rule of his Order had robbed him of the
that there were masterful lines in the ruddy softer joys of life, he had the keener zest for
features of Abbot John, or that the brethren, those which remained.
glancing up, should put on an even meeker “ How have the char prospered, brother ? ”
carriage and more demure expression as they “ They have done well, holy father ; but
saw the watchful face in the window above the carp have died in the Abbot’s pond.”
them. “ Carp prosper only upon a gravel bottom.
A knock at the door of his study recalled They must be put in also in their due
the Abbot to his immediate duties, and he proportion, three milters to one spawner,
returned to his desk. Already he had Brother Sacrist, and the spot must be free
spoken with the cellarer and prior, almoner, from wind, stony and sandy, an ell deep,
chaplain, and lector; but now, in the tall and with willows and grass upon the banks.
gaunt monk who obeyed his summons to Mud for tench, brother; gravel for carp.”
enter, he recognised the most important, and The sacrist leaned forward, with the face
also the most importunate, of his agents, of one who bears tidings of woe.
Brother Samuel the sacrist, whose office, “ There are pike in the Abbot’s pond,"
corresponding to that of the layman’s bailiff, said he.
placed the material interests of the monastery “ Pike 1 ” cried the Abbot, in horror. “ As
 6o8 TH E STR AN D M AGAZIN E.

well shut up a wolf in our sheep-fold. How not speak, I have many a time wished that
came a pike in the pond ? There were no we had other neighbours.”
pike last year, and a pike does not fall with “ That we can soon bring about, holy
the rain nor rise in the springs. The pond father. Indeed, it is of it that I wished to
must be drained, or we shall spend next Lent speak to you. Nothing is more easy than
upon stockfish, and have the brethren down for us to drive them from the countryside.
with the great sickness ere Easter Sunday There are thirty years’ claims of escuage
has come to absolve us from our abstinence.” unsettled, and there is Serjeant W'ilkins, the
“ The pond shall be drained, holy father ; lawyer of Guildford, whom I will warrant to
I have already ordered it. Then we shall draw up such arrears of dues and rents .and
plant pot-herbs on the mud bottom, and, issues with suits of hidage and fodder-corn
after we have gathered them in, return the that these folk, who are as beggarly as they
fish and water once more Irom the lower are proud, will have to sell the roof-tree over
pond, so that they may fatten among the them ere they can meet them. Within three
rich stubble.” days I will have them at our mercy.”
“ Good ! ” cried the Abbot. “ I would “ They are an ancient family and of good
have three fish-stews in every well-ordered repute. I would not treat them too harshly,
house—one dry for herbs, one shallow for brother.”
the fry and the yearlings, and one deep for “ Bethink you of the pike in the carp
the breeders and the table fish. But still, I pond ! ”
have not heard you say how the pike came in The Abbot hardened his heart at the
the Abbot’s pond.” thought. “ It was indeed a devil’s deed,
A spasm of anger passed over the fierce when we had but newly stocked it with char
face of the sacrist, and his keys rattled as and with carp. Well, well, the law is the
his bony hand clasped them more tightly. law, and if you can use it to their hurt it is
“ Young Nigel Loring,” said he. “ He still lawful so to do. Have these claims
swore that he would do us scathe, and in been advanced ? ”
this way he has done it.” “ Deacon the bailiff, with his two varlets,
“ How know you this ? ” went down to the Hall yesternight on the
“ Six weeks ago he was seen day by day matter of the escuage, and came screaming
fishing for pike at the great lake of Fren- back with this young hothead raging at their
sham. Twice at night he has been met with heels. He is small and slight, yet he has
a bundle of straw under his arm on the the strength of many men in the hour of his
Hankley Down. Well I wot that the straw wrath. The bailiff swears that he will go no
was wet and that a live pike lay within it.” more, save with half a score of archers to
The Abbot shook his head. uphold him.”
“ I have heard much of this youth's wild The Abbot was red with anger at this new
ways; but now, indeed, he has passed all offence.
bounds, if what you say be truth. It was bad “ I will teach him that the servants of
enough when it was said that he slew the Holy Church, even though we of the rule of
King’s deer in Woolmer Chase, or broke the St. Bernard be the lowliest and humblest
head of Hobbs the chapman, so that he lay of her children, can still defend their own
for seven days betwixt life and death in our against the froward and the violent. Go,
infirmary, saved only by Brother Peter’s skill cite this man before the Abbey Court. Let
in the pharmacies of herbs; but to put pike him appear in the chapter-house after tierce
in the Abbot’s pond—-why should he play to-morrow.”
such a devil’s prank ? ” But the wary sacrist shook his head.
“ Because he hates the house of Waverley, “ Nay, holy father, the times are not yet
holy father; because he swears that we hold ripe Give me three days, I pray you, that
his father’s land.” my case against him may be complete. Bear
“ In which there is surely some truth.” in qiind that the father and the grandfather
“ But, holy father, we hold no more than *rf|His unruly squire were both famous men
the law has allowed.” of their day, and the foremost knights in the
“ True, brother; and yet, between ourselves, King’s own service, living in high honour and
we may admit that the heavier purse may dying in their knightly duty. The Lady
weigh down the scales of justice. When I Ermyntrude Loring was first lady to the
have passed the old house and have seen King’s mother. Roger FitzAlan of Famham
that aged woman with her ruddled cheeks and Sir Hugh Walcott of Guildford Castle
and her baleful eyes look the curses she dare were each old comrades in arms of Nigel’s
 SIR N IG E L .

father, and sib to him on the distaff side. CH APTER III.

Already there has been talk that we have T H E YELLO W H O RSE OF C RO O K SBU RY.
dealt harshly with them. Therefore my rede I n those simple times there was a great
is that we be wise and wary and wait until wondet and mystery in life. Man walked in
his cup be indeed full.” fear and solemnity, with heaven very close
The Abbot had opened his mouth to reply above his head and hell below his very feet.
when the consultation was interrupted by a God’s visible hand was everywhere, in the
most unwonted buzz of excitement from rainbow and the comet, in the thunder and
amongst the monks in the cloister below. the wind. The devil, too, raged openly
Questions and answers, in excited voices, upon the earth, he skulked behind the
sounded from one side of the ambulatory to hedgerows in the gloaming, he laughed
the other. Sacrist and Abbot were gazing at loudly in the night time, he clawed
each other in amazement at such a breach the dying sinner, pounced on the un­
of the discipline and decorum of their well- baptized babe, and twisted the limbs of
trained flock, when there came a swift step the epileptic. A foul fiend slunk ever by
upon the stair, and a white-faced brother a man’s side and whispered villainies in
flung open the door and rushed into the his ear, while above him there hovered an
room. angel of grace who pointed to the steep
“ Father A bbot! ” he cried. “ Alas ! alas ! and narrow track. How could one doubt
Brother John is dead, and the holy sub-prior these things, when Pope and priest and
is dead, and the devil is loose in the five- scholar and King were all united in be­
virgate field.” lieving them, with no single voice of
question in the whele
wide world ?
E v e r y book read,
ever y pi cture seen,
every tale heard from
nurse or mother all
taught the same les­
son. And as a man
travelled 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 centre, and
around it the tradition
of incessant miracles,
with stacks of deserted
cr ut c hes 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 a w f u l
denizens of the unseen
world.
H e n c e the w i l d
announcement of the
f r i g h t e n e d mo n k
seemed terrible rather
than incredible to those
whom he addressed.
A N D R U S H E D IN T O
The Abbot’s ruddy face
A W H I T E - F A C E D B R O T H E R F I .U N G O P E N T H E DOOR
T H E R O O M ." paled for a moment, it
Vol, xxx.—77.
 6io THE STR A N D M AGAZIN E.

is true, but he plucked the crucifix from his over the high wall which skirts the water-
desk and rose valiantly to his feet. meadow and rushed upon us with the speed
“ Lead me to him,” said he; “ show me of the wind. The lay-brother he struck to
the foul fiend who dares to lay his grip upon the ground and trampled into the mire.
brethren of the holy house of St. Bernard. Then, seizing the good sub-prior in his
Run down to my chaplain, brother! Bid teeth, he rushed round the field, swinging
him bring the exorcist with him, and also him as though he were a fardel of old
the blessed box of relics, and the bones of clothes. Amazed at such a sight I stood
St. James from under the altar! With these without movement, and had said a credo and
and a contrite and humble heart we may three aves when the devil dropped the sub­
show front to all the powers of darkness.” prior and sprang upon me. With the help of
But the sacrist was of a more critical turn St. Bernard I clambered over the wall, but
of mind. He clutched the monk’s arm with not before his teeth had found my leg and he
a grip which left its five purple spots for had torn away the whole back skirt of my
many a day to come. gown.”
“ Is this the way to enter the Abbot’s own As he spoke he turned and gave corrobo­
chamber, without knock
or reverence or so
much as a ‘ Pax vobis-
cum’?" said he, sternly.
“ You were wont to be
our gentlest novice, of
lowly carriage in chap­
ter, devout in psalmody,
and strict in the cloister.
Pull your wits together
and a n s w e r me
straightly. In what form
has the foul fiend ap­
peared, and how has he
d o n e t h i s gri evous
scathe to our brethren ?
Have you seen him
with your own eyes, or
do you repeat from hear­
say? Speak, man, or you
stand on the penance
stool in the chapter-
house this very
hour.”
T h u s adj ur ed, 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 in­
ward tremors.
“ 'IMF. H O L Y S U B - P R IO R W A S T E L L I N G U s A S A I N T L Y T A L E F RO M T H E L IF F . OF
“ If it please you, ST. G REG O RY.”

holy father, and you,

reverend sacrist, it came about in this way. ration to his story by the hanging ruins of
James, the sub-prior, and Brother John and I his long trailing garment.
had spent our day from sext onwards on “ In what shape, then, did Satan appear?”
Hankley cutting bracken for the cow-houses. the Abbot demanded.
We were coming back over the five virgate “ As a great yellow horse, holy father—a
field, and the holy sub-prior was telling us monster horse, with eyes of fire and the teeth
a saintly tale from the life of St. Gregory, of a griffin.”
when there came a sudden sound like a “ A yellow horse ! ” The sacrist glared at
rushing torrent, and the foul fiend sprang the scared monk. “ You foolish brother 1
 SIR N IG E L . 6 11

how will you behave when you have indeed high, his ears erect, his mane bristling, his
to face the King of Terrors himself, if you red nostrils opening and shutting with wrath,
can be so frighted by the sight of a yellow and his flashing eyes turning from side to
horse ? It is the horse of Franklin Aylward, side in haughty menace and defiance.
my father, which has been distrained by us Scattered round in a respectful circle six
because he owes the Abbey fifty good of the Abbey lay-servants and foresters, each
shillings, and can never hope to pay it. holding a halter, were creeping towards him.
Such a horse, they say, is not to be found Every now and then, with a beautiful toss and
betwixt this and the King’s stables at Windsor, swerve and plunge, the great creature would
for his sire was a Spanish destrier and his turn upon one of his would-be captors, and,
dam an Arab mare of the very breed which with outstretched head, flying mane, and
Saladin, whose soul now reeks in torment, kept flashing teeth, would chase him screaming to
for his own use, and even, it has been said, the safety of the wall, while the others would
under the shelter of his own tent. I took close swiftly in behind and cast their ropes in
him in discharge of the debt, and I ordered the hope of catching neck or leg, but only in
the varlets who had haltered him to leave their turn to be chased to the nearest refuge.
him alone in the water-meadow, for I had Had two of these ropes settled upon the
heard that the beast has indeed a most evil horse, and had their throwers found some
spirit, and has killed more men than one.” purchase of stump or boulder by which they
“ It was an ill day for Waverley that you could hold them, then the man’s brain might
brought such a monster within its bounds,” have won its wonted victory over swiftness
said the Abbot. “ If the sub-prior and and strength. But the brains were them­
Brother John be indeed dead, then it would selves at fault which imagined that one
seem that if the horse be not the devil he is such rope would serve any purpose save to
at least the devills instrument.” endanger the thrower. Yet so it was, and
“ Horse or devil, holy father, I heard him what might have been foreseen occurred at
shout with joy as he trampled upon Brother the very moment of the arrival of the monks.
John, and had you seen him tossing the sub­ The horse, having chased one of his enemies
prior as a dog shakes a rat you would per­ to the wall, remained so long snorting his
chance have felt even as I did.” contempt over the coping that the others
“ C«me, then,” cried the Abbot, “ let us were able to creep upon him from behind.
see with our own eyes what evil has been Several ropes were flung, and one noose
done ” ; and the three monks hurried down settled over the proud crest and lost itself in
the stair which led to the cloisters. the waving mane. In an instant the creature
They had no sooner descended, however, had turned and the men were flying for their
than their more pressing fears were set at lives, but he who had cast the rope lingered
rest, for at that very moment, limping, dis­ for an instant, uncertain what use to make of
hevelled, and mud-stained, the two sufferers his own success. That moment of doubt was
were being led in amid a crowd of sym­ fatal. With a yell of dismay the man saw the
pathizing brethren. Shouts and cries from great creature rear above him. Then, with a
outside showed, however, that some further crash, the fore-feet fell upon him and dashed
drama was in progress, and both Abbot and him to the ground. He rose screaming, was
sacrist hastened onwards as fast as the hurled over once more, and lay a quivering,
dignity of their office would permit, until bleeding heap, while the savage horse, the
they had passed the gates and gained the most cruel and terrible in its anger of all
wall of the meadow. Looking over it, a re­ creatures on earth, bit and shook and
markable sight presented itself to their eyes. trampled the writhing body. A loud wail of
Fetlock deep in the lush grass there stood horror rose from the lines of tonsured heads
a magnificent horse, such a horse as a which skirted the high wall— a wail which
sculptor or a soldier might thrill to see. His suddenly died away into a long hushed silence,
colour was a light chestnut, with mane and broken at last by a rapturous cry of thanks­
tail of a more tawny tint. Seventeen hands giving and of joy.
high, with a barrel and haunches which On the road which led to the old dark
bespoke tremendous strength, he fined down manor-house upon the side of the hill a youth
to the most delicate lines of dainty breed had been riding. His mount was a sorry
in neck and crest and shoulder. He was one-—a weedy, shambling, long-haired colt—
indeed a glorious sight as he stood there, his and his patched tunic of faded purple, with
beautiful body leaning back from his wide­ stained leather belt, presented no very smart
spread and propped fore-legs, his head craned appearance ; yet in the bearing of the man,
 6l2 THE STR AN D M AGAZINE.

in the poise of his head, in his easy graceful enemy approach, and, spurning the prostrate
carriage, and in the bold glance of his large but still writhing body with its heels, dashed
blue eyes, there was that stamp of distinction at the new-comer. But this time there was
and of breed which would have given him no hasty flight, no rapturous pursuit to the
a place of his own in any assembly. He was wall. The little man braced himself straight,
of small stature, but his frame was singu­ flung up his metal-headed whip, and met the
larly elegant and graceful. His face, though horse with a crashing blow upon the head,
tanned by the weather, was delicate in repeated again and again with every attack.
features and most eager and alert in expres­ In vain the horse reared and tried to over­
sion. A thick fringe of crisp yellow curls throw its enemy with swooping shoulders
broke from under the dark flat cap which he and pawing hoofs. Cool and alert, the man
was wearing, and a short golden beard hid sprang swiftly aside from under the very
the outline of his strong square chin. One shadow of death, and then again came the
white osprey feather thrust through a gold swish and thud of the unerring blow from
brooch in the front of his cap gave a touch the heavy handle. The horse drew off,
of grace to his sombre garb. This and glared with wonder and fury at this masterful
other points of his attire, the short hanging man, and then trotted round in a circle with
mantle, the leather-sheathed hunting knife, mane bristling, tail streaming, and ears on
the cross-belt which sus­
tained a brazen horn,
the soft doeskin boots,
and the prick spurs,
would all disclose them­
selves 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 fol­
lowed 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 ob­
served the comedy in
the field, a n d t h e
i mpot ent efforts of
the servants of Waver-
ley.
Suddenly, however,
as the comedy turned
swiftly to black tragedy,
this passive spectator
l eapt i nto 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. Look-
in g up f r o m h i s
victim the great yellow
horse saw this other " T"“ L,TTLK MAN BRA£|“ H I M S E L F S T R A I G H T , F L U N G UP H IS M E T A L - H E A D E D WHIPy A N D
T H E H O R S E W I T H A C R A S H I N G B L O W ,"
 SIR N IG E L . 613

end, snorting in its rage and pain. The not respect those who grind the poor or steal
man, hardly deigning to glance at his fell their neighbour's land.”
neighbour, passed on to the wounded “ Rash man, many a one has been blighted
forester, raised him in his arms with a by her ban for less than you have now said.
strength which could not have been expected And yet it is not for us to judge you harshly
in so slight a body, and carried him, groan­ this day. You are young, and hot words
ing, to the wall, where a dozen hands were come easily to your lips. How fares the
outstretched to help him over. Then, at his forester ? ”
leisure, the young man also climbed the wall, “ His hurt is grievous, Father Abbot, but
smiling back with cool contempt at the yellow he will live,” said a brother, looking up from
horse, which had come raging after him once the prostrate form. “ With a blood-letting
more. As he sprang down a dozen monks and an electuary I will warrant him sound
surrounded him to thank or to praise him, within a month.”
but he would have turned sullenly away “ Then bear him to the hospital. And
without a word had he not been stopped by now, brother, about this terrible beast who
Abbot John in person. still gazes and snorts at us over the top of
“ Nay, Squire Loring,” said he ; “ if you the wall as though his thoughts of Holy
be a bad friend to our Abbey, yet we must Church were as uncouth as those of Squire
needs own that you have played the part of a Nigel himself — what are we to do with
good Christian this day, for if there is breath hi m? ”
left in our servant’s body it is to you, next to “ Here is FYanklin Aylward,” said one of
our blessed patron St. Bernard, that we the brethren. “ The horse was his, and
owe it.” doubtless he will take it back to his farm.”
“ By St. Paul, I owe you no goodwill, But the stout, red-faced farmer shook his
Abbot John,” said the young man. “ The head at the proposal.
shadow of your Abbey has ever fallen across “ Not I, in faith,” said he. “ The beast
the house of Loring. As to any small deed hath chased me twice round the paddock ;
that I may have done this day, I ask no thanks it has nigh slain my boy Samkin. He would
for it. It is not for you nor for your house never be happy till he had ridden it, nor has
that I have done i t ; but only because it was he ever been happy since. There is not a
my pleasure so to do.” hind in my employ who will enter his stall.
The Abbot flushed at the bold words and Ill fare the day that ever I took the beast
bit his lip with vexation. It was the sacrist, from the Castle stud at Guildford, where they
however, who answered. could do nothing with it, and no rider could
“ It would be more fitting and more be found bold enough to mount it. When
gracious,” said he, “ if you were to speak to the sacrist here took it for a fifty-shilling
the holy Father Abbot in a manner suited debt he made his own bargain and must
to his high rank and to the respect which is abide by it. He comes no more to the
due to a Prince of the Church.” Crooksbury Farm.”
The youth turned his bold blue eyes upon “ And he stays no more here,” said the
the monk, and his sunburned face darkened Abbot. “ Brother Sacrist, you have raised
with anger. the devil, and it is for you to lay it again.”
“ Were it not for the gown upon your “ That I will most readily,” cried the
back and for your silvering hair, I would sacrist. “ The pittance-master can stop the
answer you in another fashion,” said he. fifty shillings from my very own weekly dole,
“ You are the lean wolf which growls ever at and so the Abbey be none the poorer. In
our door, greedy for the little which hath the meantime here is Wat with his arbalest
been left to us. Say and do what you will and a bolt in his girdle. Let him drive it to
with me, but, by St. Paul, if I find that the head through this cursed creature, for
Dame Ermyntrude is baited by your ravenous his hide and his hoofs are of more value than
pack I will beat them off with this whip from his wicked self.”
the little patch which still remains of all the A hard, brown old woodman who had
acres of my fathers.” been shooting vermin in the Abbey groves
“ Have a care, Nigel Loring, have a care ! ” stepped forward with a grin of pleasure.
cried the Abbot, with finger upraised. “ Have After a lifetime of stoats and foxes this was
you no fears of the law of England ? ” indeed a noble quarry which was to fall before
“ A just law I fear and obey.” him. Fitting a bolt on the nut of his taut
“ Have you no respect for Holy Church ? ” cross-bow, he had raised it to his shoulder
“ I respect all that is holy in her. I do and levelled it at the fierce, proud, dishevelled
 6iq TH E STR AN D M AGAZINE.

head which tossed in savage freedom at the mission it is in my gift, and I bestow it freely
other side of the wall. His finger was upon you.”
crooked on the spring when a blow from a The Abbot plucked at his subordinate’s
whip struck the bow upwards and the bolt sleeve.
sang harmless over the Abbey orchard, while “ Bethink you, Brother Sacrist,” he whis­
the woodman shrank abashed from Nigel pered, “ shall we not have this man’s blood
Loring’s angry eyes. upon our heads ? ”
“ Keep your bolts for your weasels,” said “ His pride is as stubborn as the horse’s,
he. “ Would you take life from a creature holy father,” the sacrist answered, his gaunt
whose only fault is that its spirit is so high face breaking into a malicious smile. “ Man
that it has met none yet who dare control it ? or beast, one will break the other and the
You would slay such a horse as a King might world be the better for it. If you forbid

“ 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
Abbey of Waverley.”
The sacrist spoke aloud
amid the tittering of the
monks, for the man con­
cerned was out of ear-shot.
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
honourable advancement to be gained. How
is the horse called ? ”
“ A BL O W F R O M ^ W HI P S T R U C K T H E BOW’ U P W A R D S . ” “ It’s name,” said the franklin, “ is
Pommers. I warn you, young sir, that
be proud to mount, and all because a country none may ride him, for many have tried,
franklin, or a monk, or a monk’s varlet and the luckiest is he who has only a staved
has not the wit nor the hands to master rib to show for it.”
him.” “ I thank you for your rede,” said N igel;
The sacrist turned swiftly on the squire. “ and now I see that this is indeed a horse
“ The Abbey owes you an offering for this which I would journey far to meet. I am
day’s work, however rude your words may your man, Pommers, and you are my horse,
be,” said he. “ If you think so much of the and this night you shall own it or I will never
horse, you may desire to own it. If I am to need horse again. My spirit against thine,
pay for it, then with the holy Abbot’s per­ and God hold thy spirit high, Pommers, so
 SIX N IG EL. 615
that the greater be the adventure and the But on the fourth side was a low grey build­
more hope of honour gained.” ing, one of the granges of the Abbey, present­
Whilst he spoke the young squire had ing a long flank unbroken by door or window.
climbed on to the top of the wall, and stood The horse stretched itself into a gallop and
there balanced, the very image of grace and headed straight for that craggy thirty-foot
spirit and gallantry, his bridle hanging from wall. He would break in red ruin at the
one hand and his whip grasped in the other. base of it if he could but dash for ever the
With a fierce snort the horse made for him life from this man who claimed mastery over
instantly, and his white teeth flashed as he that which had never found its master yet.
snapped; but again a heavy blow from the The great haunches gathered under it, the
loaded whip caused him to swerve, and eager hoofs drummed the grass as faster and
even at the instant of the swerve, measuring still more fast the frantic horse bore himself
the distance with steady eyes and bending and his rider towards the wall. Would Nigel
his supple body for the spring, Nigel bounded spring off? To do so would be to bend his
into the air and fell with his legs astride the will to that of the beast beneath him. There
broad back of the yellow horse. For a was a better way than that. Cool, quick, and
minute, with neither saddle nor stirrups to decided, the man swiftly passed both whip
help him, and the beast ramping and rearing and bridle into the left hand, which still held
like a mad thing beneath him, he was hard the mane. Then with the right he slipped
pressed to hold his own. His legs were like his short mantle from his shoulders, and
two bands of steel welded on to the swelling :ying forward along the creature’s strenuous,
arches of the great horse’s ribs, and his left rippling back he cast the flapping cloth over
hand was buried deep in the tawny mane. the horse’s eyes.
Never had the dull round of the lives of the The result was but too successful, for it
gentle brethren of Waverley been broken by so nearly brought about the downfall of the
fiery a scene. Springing to right and swoop­ rider. When those red eyes straining for
ing to left, now with its tangled, wicked head death were suddenly shrouded in unexpected
betwixt its fore feet, and now pawing eight feet darkness the amazed horse propped on its
high in the air, with scarlet, furious nostrils and fore feet and came to so dead a stop that
maddened eyes, the yellow horse was a thing Nigel was shot forward on to its neck and
of terror and of beauty. But the lithe figure hardly held himself by his hair-entwined
on his back, bending like a reed in the wind hand. Ere he had slid back into position
to every movement, firm below, pliant above, the moment of danger had passed, for the
with calm, inexorable face and eyes which horse, its purpose all blurred in its mind by
danced and gleamed with the joy of contest, this strange thing which had befallen, wheeled
still held its masterful place for all that the round once more, trembling in every fibre,
fiery heart and the iron muscles of the great and tossing its petulant head until at last the
beast could do. Once a long drone of mantle had been slipped from its eyes and
dismay rose from the monks as, rearing the chilling darkness had melted into the
higher and higher yet, a last mad effort sent homely circle of sunlit grass once more.
the creature toppling over backwards upon But what was this new outrage which had
its rider. But, swift and cool, he had writhed been inflicted upon it? What was this
from under it ere it fell, spurned it with his defiling bar of iron which was locked hard
foot as it rolled upon the earth, and then, against its mouth ? What were these straps
seizing its mane as it rose, swung himself which galled the tossing neck, this band
lightly on to its back once more. Even the which spanned its crest ? In those instants
grim sacrist could not but join the cheer as of stillness ere the mantle had been plucked
Pommers, amazed to find the rider still upon away Nigel had laid forward, had slipped the
his back, plunged and curveted down the snaffle between the champing teeth, and had
field. deftly secured it. Blind, frantic fury surged
But the wild horse only swelled into a in the yellow horse’s heart once more at this
greater fury In the sullen gloom of its new degradation, this badge of serfdom and
untamed heart there rose the furious resolve infamy. His spirit rose high and menacing
to dash the life from this clinging rider, even at the touch. He loathed this place, these
if it meant destruction to beast and man. people, all and everything which threatened
With red, blazing eyes it looked round for his freedom. He would have done with
death. On three sides the five-virgate field them for ever ; he would see them no more.
was bounded by a high wall, broken only at Let him away to the uttermost parts of the
one spot by a heavy four-foot wooden gate. earth, to the great plains where freedom is !
 6i6 TH E STR AN D M AGAZIN E.

Anywhere over the far horizon, where he went the great yellow horse. The villagers
could get away from the defiling bit and the of Shottermill heard the wild clatter of
insufferable mastery of man. hoofs, but ere they could swing the ox-hide
He turned with a rush, and one magnifi­ curtains of their cottage doors horse and
cent deer-like bound carried him over the rider were lost amid the high bracken
four-foot gate. Nigel’s hat had flown off, of the Haslemere valley. On he w'ent,
and his yellow curls streamed behind him as and on, tossing the miles behind his flying
he rose and fell in the leap. They were in hoofs. No marshland could clog him, no hill
the water-meadow now, and the rippling could hold him back. Up the slope of Linch-
stream twenty foot wide gleamed in front of mere and the long ascent of Fernhurst he
them, running down to the main current of thundered as on the level, and it was not
the Wey. The yellow horse gathered his until he had flown down the incline of Henley
haunches under him and flew over like an Hill, and the grey castle tower of Midhurst
arrow. He took off from behind a boulder rose over the coppice in front, that at last
and cleared a furze-bush on the farther side. the eager, outstretched neck sank a little on
Two stones still mark the leap from hoof- the breast, and the breath came quick and
mark to hoof-mark, and they are eleven good fast. Look where he would in woodland
paces apart. Under the hanging branch of and on down, his straining eyes could catch
the great oak tree on the farther side, that no sign of those plains of lreedom which he
Quercus Tilfordiensis still shown as the sought.
bound of the Abbey’s immediate precincts, And yet another outrage ! It was bad that
the great horse passed. He had hoped to this creature should still cling so tight upon
sweep off his rider, but Nigel sank low on his back, but now he would even go the in­
the heaving back with his face buried in the tolerable length of checking him and guiding
flying mane. The rough bough rasped him him on the way that he would have him go.
rudely, but never shook his spirit nor his There was a sharp pluck at his mouth, and
grip. Rearing, plunging, and struggling, his head was turned north once more. As
Pommers broke through the sapling grove well go that way as another, but the man
and was out on the broad stretch of Hankley was mad indeed if he thought that such a
Down. horse as Pommers was at the end of its
And now' came such a ride as still lingers spirit or its strength. He would soon show
in the gossip of the lowly countryfolk and him that he was unconquered, if it strained
forms the rude jingle of that old Surrey ballad, his sinews or broke his heart to do so. Back
now' nearly forgotten save for the refrain :— then he flew up the long, long ascent. Would
The Doe that sped on Ilinde Head, he ever get to the end of it? Yet he would
The Kestril on the winde. not own that he could go no farther while
And Nigel on the Yellow Horse the man still kept his grip. He was white
Can leave the world behinde.
with foam and caked with mud. His eyes
Before them lav a rolling ocean of dark were gorged with blood, his mouth open and
heather, knee-deep, swelling in billow on gasping, his nostrils expanded, his coat stark
billow up to the clear-cut hill before them. and reeking. On he flew down the long
Above stretched one unbroken arch of Sunday Hill until he reached the deep
peaceful blue, w'ith a sun which was sinking Kingsley Marsh at the bottom. No, it was
down towards the Hampshire hills. Through too much ! Flesh and blood could go no
the deep heather, down the gullies, over the farther. As he struggled out from the reedy
watercourses, up the broken slopes Pommers slime, with the heavy black mud still clinging
flew, his great heart bursting with rage, and to his fetlocks, he at last eased down with
every fibre quivering at the indignities which sobbing breath and slowed the tumultuous
he had endured. And still, do what he gallop to a canter.
would, the man clung fast to his heaving Oh, crowning infamy ! Was there no
sides and to his flying mane, silent, motion­ limit to these degradations ? He was no
less, inexorable, letting him do what he longer even to choose his own pace. Since
would, but fixed as Fate upon his purpose. he had chosen to gallop so far at his own
Over Hankley Dowm, through Thursley will, he must now gallop farther still at the
Marsh with the reeds up to his mud splashed will of another. A spur struck home on
withers, onwards up the long slope of the either flank. A stinging whip-lash fell across
Headland of the Hinds, down by the Nut- his shoulder. He bounded his own height
combe Gorge, slipping, blundering, bounding, in the air at the pain and the shame of it.
but never slackening his fearful speed, on Then, forgetting his weary limbs, forgetting his
 SIR N IG E L . 617

panting, reeking sides, forgetting everything the craning head. “ I know you, Pommers,
save this intolerable insult and the burning and you know me, and with the help of
spirit within, he plunged off once more upon St. Paul we shall teach some other folk
his furious gallop. He was out on the heather to know us both. Now let us walk
slopes again, and heading for Weydown together as far as this moorland pond, for
Common. On he flew, and on. But again indeed I wot not whether it is you or I
his breath failed him, and again his limbs who need the water most.”
trembled beneath him, and yet again he strove And so it was that some belated monks of
to ease his pace, only to be driven onwards Waverley, passing homewards from the outer
by the cruel spur and the falling lash. He granges, saw a strange sight which they carried
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 tor­
ture 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 for­
ward over his shoul­
der, and beast and
man lay prostrate and
gasping whilst the last
red rimof 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
“ I T W A S N O N E O T H E K T H A N T H E YO U N G S Q U I R E H I M S E L F , WHO W A S L E A D I N G H O M E , A S
down the foam-flecked A S H E P H E R D L E A D S A L A M B , T H E F E A R S O M E YEL L O W HORSE OF CRO O KSBU RY ! ”
face. The red eye
rolled up at him, but it was wonder, not hatred, on with them so that it reached that very
a prayer and not a threat, which he could night the ears both of sacrist and of Abbot.
read in it. As he stroked the reeking muzzle For, as they passed through Tilford, they had
the horse whinnied gently and thrust his nose seen horse and man walking side by side
into the hollow of his hand. It was enough. and head by head up the manor-house lane.
It was the end of the contest, the acceptance And when they had raised their lanthorns on
of new conditions by a chivalrous foe from a the pair it was none other than the young
chivalrous victor. squire himself, who was leading home, as a
“ You are my horse, Pommers,” Nigel shepherd leads a lamb, the fearsome yellow
whispered, and he laid his cheek against horse of Crooksbury !
(T o be continued.)
VoL xxx.—78.
“ D E S P E R A T E L Y N IG E L ST R O V E TO G A IN 11 IS SW O R D .

(See page S.)

 T he S t r a n d M agazine.
Vol. xxxi. J ANUARY, 1906. No. 181.

SIR NIGEL.
B y A . C O N A N D O Y L E .

C H A P T E R IV. Below there were only two apartments, the

HOW T H E SU M M O N ER C A M E TO T H E MANOR- smaller of which was the bower of the aged
H OUSE OF T il.F O R D . Lady Ermyntrude. The other was the hall,
Y the date of this chronicle the a very large room, which served as the living-
ascetic sternijpss of the old room of the family and as the common
Norman castles had been dining-room of themselves and of their little
humanized and refined so that group of servants and retainers. The dwell­
the new dwellings of the ings of these servants, the kitchens, the
nobility, if less imposing in offices, and the stables were all represented
appearance, were very much more comfort­ by a row of pent-houses and sheds behind the
able as places of residence. A gentler race main building. Here lived Charles the page,
had built their houses rather for peace than Peter the old falconer, ed Swire, who had
for war. He who compares the savage bare­ followed Nigel’s granc.ic.cher to the Scottish
ness of Pevensey with the piled grandeur wars, Weathercote the broken minstrel, John
of Bodiam or Windsor cannot fail to the cook, and other survivors of more
understand the change in manners which prosperous days, who still clung to the old
they represent. The earlier castles had a set house as the barnacles to some wrecked and
purpose, for they were built that the invaders stranded vessel. ,ont-
might hold down the country ; but when the One evening, about’ a week after the
Conquest was once firmly established a castle breaking of the yellow horse, Nigel and his
had lost its meaning, save as a refuge from grandmother sat on either side of the large,
justice or as a centre for civil strife. On the empty fireplace in this spacious apartment.
marches of Wales and of Scotland the castle The supper had been removed and so had
might continue to be a bulwark to the the trestle tables upon which it had been
kingdom, and there they still grew and served, so that to modern eyes the room
flourished ; but in all other places they were would have seemed bare and empty. The
rather a menace to the King’s Majesty, stone floor was strewed with a thick layer of
and as such were discouraged and destroyed. green rushes, which was swept out every
By the reign of the third Edward the greater Saturday, and carried with it all the dirt and
part of the old fighting castles had been con­ debris of the week. Several dogs were now
verted into dwelling-houses or had been ruined crouched among these rushes, gnawing and
in the Civil Wars, and left where their grim, cracking the bones which had been thrown
grey bones are still littered upon the brows from the table. A long wooden buffet, loaded
of our hills. The new buildings were either with plates and dishes, filled one end of the
great country houses, capable of defence but room ; but there was little other furniture
mainly residential, or they were manor-houses save some benches against the walls, two
with no military significance at all. Such dorseret chairs, one small table littered with
was the Tilford manor-house, where the last chessmen, and a great iron coffer. In one
survivors of the old and magnificent house corner was a high wicker-work stand, and on
of Loring still struggled hard to keep a foot­ it two stately falcons were perched, silent and
ing and to hold off the monks and the motionless save for an occasional twinkle of
lawyers from the few acres which were left their fierce yellow eyes.
to them. But if the actual fittings of the room would
The mansion was a two-storied one, framed have appeared scanty to one who had lived
in heavy beams of wood, the interstices filled in a more luxurious age, he would have been
with rude blocks of stone. An outside stair­ surprised on looking up to see the multitude
case led up to several sleeping-rooms above. of objects which were suspended above his
Vol. xxjci.—1 . Copyright, 1906, by A. Conan Doyli . in the United Stales of America,
 4 TH E STRAND M A G A ZIN E .

and mother of war­

riors, was herself a
formidable figure.
Tall and gaunt,
with hard, craggy
features and in­
tolerant dark eyes,
even her snow-
whi t e hai r and
s t oopi ng back
could not entirely
remove the sense
of fear which she
inspired in those
around her. Her
t h o u g h t s and
memor i es went
back to harsher
t i me s , and she
looked upon the
En g l a n d around
her as a degenerate
and effeminate land
which had fallen
away from the old
standard of knightly
courtesy and valour.
The rising power of
the people, the
growing wealth of
the Church, the
H E R E L IV E D C H A R L E S T H E P A G E , P E T E R T H E OLD F ALC O N E R , AN D O TH ER SURVIVORS increasing luxury
OF M O R E P R O S P E R O U S D A Y S . " in life and manners,
and the gentler
head. Over the fireplace were the coats-of- tone of the age were all equally abhorrent to
‘arms of a number of houses allied by blood her, so that the dread of her fierce face, and
or by marriage to the Lorings. The two even of the heavy oak staff with which she
cresset lights which flared upon each side supported her failing limbs, was widespread
gleamed upon the blue lion of the Percies, through all the country round. Yet if she were
the red birds of de Valence, the black feared she was also respected, for in those
engrailed cross of de Mohun, the silver star days, when books were few and readers scarce,
of de Vere, and the ruddy bars of Fit/Alan, a long memory and a ready tongue were of
all grouped round the famous red roses on the more value ; and where, save from Dame
the silver shield which the Lorings had borne Ermyntrude, could the young, unlettered
to glory upon many a sanguinary field. Then squires of Surrey and Hampshire hear of
from side to side the room was spanned their grandfathers and their battles, or learn
by heavy oaken beams from which a great that lore of heraldry and chivalry which she
number of objects were hanging. There handed down from a ruder but a more
were mail shirts of obsolete pattern, several martial age? Poor as she was, there was no
shields, one or two rusted and battered one in Surrey whose guidance would be more
helmets, bow-staves, lances, otter-spears, readily sought upon a question of precedence
harness, fishing-rods, and other implements or of conduct than the Dame Ermyntrude
of war or of the chase, while higher still, amid Loring.
the black shadows of the peaked roof, could She sat now with bowed back by the
be seen rows of hams, flitches of bacon, empty fireplace, and she looked across at
salted geese, and those other forms of pre­ Nigel with all the harsh lines of her old
served meat which played so great a part in ruddled face softening into love and pride.
the housekeeping of the Middle Ages. The young squire was busy cutting bird-
Dame Ermyntrude Loring, daughter, wife, bolts for his cross-bow, and whistling softly as
 SIR N IG EL. 5

he worked. Suddenly he looked up and But your father bore him back and struck
caught the dark eyes which were fixed upon him such a blow with a mace that he turned
him. He leaned forward and patted the the helmet half round on his head, so that he
bony hand. could no longer see through the eye-holes,
“ What hath pleased you, dear dame ? I and Sir Lorredan threw down his sword and
read pleasure in your eyes.” gave himself to ransom. But your father
“ I have heard to day, Nigel, how you took him by the helmet and twisted it until
came to win that great war-horse which he had it straight upon his head. Then,
stamps in our stable.” when he could see once again, he handed him
“ Nay, dame, I had told you that the his sword, and prayed him that he would rest
monks had given it to me.” himself and then continue, for it was great
“ You said so, fair son, but never a word profit and joy to see any gentleman carry
more. Yet the horse which you brought himself so well. So they sat together and
home was a very different horse, I wot, to rested by the rail of the poop, but even as
that which was given you. Why did you not they raised their hands again your father was
tell m e ? ” struck by a stone from a mangonel and so
“ I should think it shame to talk of such a died.”
thing.” “ And this Sir Lorredan,” cried Nigel ;
“ So would your father before you, and “ he died also, as I understand ? ”
his father no less. They would sit silent “ I fear that he was slain by the archers,
among the knights when the wine went round for they loved your father and they do not
and listen to every man’s deeds, but if per­ see these things with our eyes.”
chance there was anyone who spoke louder “ It was a pity,” said Nigel, “ for it is clear
than the rest and seemed to be eager for that he was a good knight and bore himself
honour, then afterwards your father would very bravely.”
pluck him softly by the sleeve and whisper “ Time was, when I was young, when
in his ear, to learn if there was any small vow commoners dared not have laid their grimy
o f which he could relieve him, or if he would hands upon such a man. Men of gentle
deign to perform some noble deed of arms blood and coat-armour made war upon each
upon his person. And if the man were a other, and the others, spearmen or archers,
braggart, and would go no farther, your father could scramble amongst themselves. But
would be silent and none would know it. now all are of a level, and only here and
But if he bore himself well your father would there one, like yourself, fair son, who reminds
spread his fame far and wide, but never make me of the men who are gone.”
mention of himself.” Nigel leaned forward and took her hands
Nigel looked at the old woman with shining in his “ What I am you have made me,”
eyes. “ I love to hear you speak of him,” said he.
said he. “ I pray you to tell me once more “ It is true, Nigel. I have indeed watched
of the manner of his death.” over you as the gardener watches his most
“ He died as he had lived—a very courtly precious blossom, for in you alone are all
gentleman. It was at the great sea-battle the hopes of our ancient house, and soon—
upon the Norman coast, and your father was very soon—you will be alone.”
in command of the after guard in the King’s “ Nay, dear lady, say not that.”
own ship. Now the French had taken a great “ I am very old, Nigel, and I feel the
English ship the year before, when they came shadow closing in upon me. My heart
over and held the narrow seas and burned yearns to go, for all whom I have known and
the town of Southampton. This ship was the loved have gone before me. And you— it
Christopher, and they placed it in the front of will be a blessed day for you, since I have
their battle, but the English closed upon it held you back from that world into which
and stormed over its side, and slew all who your brave spirit longs to plunge.”
were upon it. But your father and Sir “ Nay, nay ; I have been happy here with
Lorredan of Genoa, who commanded the you at Tilford.”
Christopher, fought upon the high poop, so “ We are very poor, Nigel. I do not
that all the fleet stopped to watch it, and the know where we may find the money to fit
King himself cried aloud at the sight, for you for the wars. Yet we have good friends.
Sir Lorredan was a famous man-at-arms and There is Sir John Chandos, who has won
bore himself very stoutly that day, and many such credit in the French wars, and who
a knight envied your father that he should rides ever by the King's bridle-arm. He
have chanced upon so excellent a person. was your father’s friend, and they were
 6 THE ST R A N D M A G A ZIN E .

squires together. If I send you to Court much metal in his purse ere he put any on
with a message to him he would do what he his limbs.”
could.” Nigel looked up wistfully at the old armour
Nigel’s fair face flushed. which was slung on the beams above him.
“ Nay, Dame Ermyntrude, I must find my “ The ash spear is good,” said he, “ and
own gear, even as I have found my own so is the oaken shield with facing of steel.
horse, for I had rather ride into battle in this Sir Roger FitzAlan handled them and said
tunic than owe my suit to another.” that he had never seen better. But the
“ I feared that you would say so, Nigel, armour------”
but indeed I know not how else we may get Lady Ermyntrude shook her old head and
the money,” said the old woman, sadly. “ It laughed.
was different in the days of my father. I “ You have your father’s great soul, Nigel,
can remember that a suit of mail was but but you have not his mighty breadth of
a small matter in those days, lor in every shoulder and length of limb. There was not
English town such things could be made. in all the King’s great host a taller or a
But year by year, since men have come to stronger man. His harness would be little
take more care of their bodies, there have use to you. No, fair son, I rede you that
been added a plate of proof here and a when the time comes you sell this crumbling
cunning joint there, and all must be from house and the few acres which are still left,
Toledo or Milan, so that a knight must have 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.
“ 1 know not if we
may holdoff these monks
and their lawyers much
longer. This very day
there came a man from
Guildford with claims
from the Abbey extend­
ing back bef or e 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
N IG E L L O O K ED UP W IS T F U L L Y A T T H E OLD ARMOUR,
the Church and the law
 SIE N IG EL. 7
are too strong now for us who are of gentle feeling, but with many a slip and quaver,
blood. Trouble will come of it, Nigel, for waving his yellow head in cadence to the
the Abbot of Waverley is not one who will music :—
hold back the shield of the Church from A sword ! A sword !
those who are her servants.” Ah ! give me a sword.
For the world is all to win.
“ The Abbot would not hurt us. It is Though the way he hard
that grey, lean wolf of a sacrist who hungers And the door he barred,
for our land. Let him do his worst. I fear The strong man enters in.
him not.” If Chance and Fate
Still hold the gate,
“ He has such an engine at his back, Give me the iron key,
Nigel, that even the bravest must fear him. And turret high
T he ban which blasts a man’s soul is in the My plume shall fly,
keeping of his Church, and what have we to Or you may weep for me.
place against it ? I pray you to speak him A horse ! A horse !
fair, Nigel.” Ah ! give me a horse
To hear me out afar
“ Nay, dear lady, it is both my duty and Where blackest need
my pleasure to do what you bid me, but I And grimmest deed
would die ere I ask as a favour that which And sweetest perils are.
we can claim as a right. Never can I cast 11old thou my ways
From glutted days
my eyes from yonder window that I do not Where poisoned leisure lies,
see the swelling down land and the rich And ]K)int the path
meadows, glade and dingle, copse and wood, O f tears and wrath
which have been ours since Norman William Which mounts to high emprise.
gave them to that Coring who bore his shield A heart ! A heart !
at Senlac. Now, by trick and fraud, they have Ah ! give me a heart
To rise to circumstance ;
passed away from us, and many a franklin is Serene and high
a richer man than I, but never shall it be And hold to try
said that I saved the rest bv bending my The hazard of the chance.
neck to their yoke. Let them do their worst, With strength to wait,
Hut fixed as Fate
and let me endure it or fight it as best I T o plan and dare and do,
may.” The peer of all,
The old lady sighed and shook her head. And only thrall,
“ You speak as a Loring should, and yet I Sweet lady mine, to you.
fear that some great trouble will befall us. It may have been that the sentiment went
But let us talk no more of such matters, since for more than the music, or it may have been
we cannot mend them. Where is your citole, that the nicety of her own ear had been dulled
Nigel ? Will you not play and sing to me ? ” by age, but old Dame Ermyntrude clapped
The gentleman of those days could scarce her lean hands together and cried out in shrill
read and write, but he spoke in two languages, applause.
played at least one musical instrument as a “ YVeathercote has indeed had an apt
matter of course, and possessed a number of pupil,” she said. “ I pray you that you will
other accomplishments unknown to modern sing again.”
culture, from the imping of hawks’ feathers to “ Nay, dear dame ; it is turn and turn
the mystery of venerie, with knowledge of betwixt you and me. I beg that you will
every beast and bird, its times of grace and recite a romance—you who know them all.
when it is seasonable. So far as physical For all the years that I have listened I have
power went, to vault barebacked upon a never yet come to the end of them, and I
horse, to hit a running hare with a cross­ dare swear that there are more in your head
bow bolt, or to climb the angle of a castle than in all the great book which they showed
courtyard were feats which had come by me at Guildford Castle. I would fain hear
nature to the young squire, but it was very Doon of Mayencc, or the Song of Roland,
different with music, which had called for or Sir Isumbras.”
many a weary hour of irksome work. Now So the old dame broke into a long poem,
at last he could master the strings, but both slow and dull in the inception, but quicken­
his ear and his voice were not of the best, so ing as the interest grew, until with darting
that it was well, perhaps, that there was so hands and glowing face she poured forth the
small and so prejudiced an audience to the verses which told of the emptiness of sordid
Norman-French chanson which he sang in a life, the beauty of heroic death, the high
high, reedy voice with great earnestness of sacredness of love, and the bondage of
 8 2H E ST R A N D M A G A ZIN E.

Talbot ! Down, Bayard! Open the door

and let his messenger in.”
Nigel undid the bolt
and the heavy wooden
door swung outwards
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 bow-
staves. 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 parch­
ment with a fringe of
dangling seals, which he
held aloft as he entered.
“ I call on Ni gel
Luring," he cried. “ I, the officer
of the King's law and the lay sum-
moner of Waverley, call upon the
man named Nigel Loring.”
“ WITH D A R T I N G H A N D S A N D G L O W I N G F A C E SHF. P O U RE D ORTH ,, T , „
T H E V ER SES.” “ I am he.
“ Yes, it is he,” cried the sacrist.
honour. Nigel, with set, still features and “ Archers, do as you were ordered.”
brooding eyes, drank in the fiery words, In an instant the band threw themselves
until at last they died upon the old upon him like the hounds on a stag. Des­
woman’s lips, and she sank back weary in perately Nigel strove to gain his sword,
her chair. Nigel stooped over her and kissed which lay upon the iron coffer. With the
her brow. convulsive strength which comes from the
“ Your words will ever be as a star upon spirit rather than from the body, he bore them
my path,” said he. Then, carrying over the all in that direction, but the sacrist snatched
small table and the chessmen, he proposed the weapon from its place, and the rest
that they should play their usual game before dragged the writhing squire to the ground
they sought their rooms for the night. and swathed him in a cord.
But a sudden and rude interruption broke “ Hold him fast, good archers, keep a
in upon their gentle contest. A dog pricked stout grip on him ! ” cried the summoner.
its ears and barked. The others ran growl­ “ I pray you, one of you, prick off these
ing to the door. And then there came a great dogs which snarl at my heels Stand
sharp clash of arms, a dull, heavy blow as off, I say, in the name of the King! Watkin,
from a club or sword-pommel, and a deep come betwixt me and these creatures, who
voice from without summoned them to open have as little regard for the law as their
in the King’s name. The old dame and master.”
Nigel had both sprung to their feet, their One of the archers kicked off the faithful
table overturned and their chessmen scattered dogs. But there were others of the house­
among the rushes. Nigel’s hand had sought hold who were equally ready to show their
his cross-bow, but the Lady Ermyntrude teeth in defence of the old house of Loring.
grasped his arm. From the door which led to their quarters
“ Nay, fair son, have you not heard that it there emerged the pitiful muster of Nigel’s
is in the King’s name ? ” said she. “ Down, threadbare retainers. There was a time
 S/E N IG E L . 9
when ten knights, forty men-at-arms, and two house bote and fire-bote, which ended by a
hundred archers would march behind the demand for all the lands, hereditaments,
scarlet roses. Now at this last rally, when tenements, messuages, and curtilages which
the young head of the house lay bound in made up their worldly all.
his own hall, there mustered at his call the Nigel, still bound, had been placed with
page Charles with a cudgel, John the cook his back against the iron coffer, whence he
with his longest spit, Red Swire, the aged heard with dry lips and moist brow this
man-at-arms, with a formidable axe swung doom of his house. Now he broke in on the
over his snowy head, and Weathercote the recital with a vehemence which made the
minstrel with a boar-spear. Yet this motley summoner jump.
array was fired with the spirit of the house, “ You shall rue what you have done this
and under the lead of the fierce old soldier night,” he cried. “ Poor as we are, we have
they would certainly have flung themselves our friends who will not see us wronged,
upon the ready swords of the archers, had and I will plead my cause before the King’s
the Lady Ermyntrude not swept between Own Majesty at Windsor, that he, who saw
them. the father die, may know what things are
“ Stand back, Swire ! ” she cried. “ Back, done in his Royal name against the son.
Weathercote! Charles, put a leash on But these matters are to be settled in
Talbot and hold Bayard back ! ” Her black course of law in the King's courts, and how
eyes blazed upon the invaders until they will you excuse yourself for this assault upon
shrank from that baleful gaze. “ Who are my house and person ? ”
you, you rascal robbers, who dare to misuse “ Nay, that is another matter,” said, the
the King’s name, and to lay hands upon one sacrist. “ The question of debt may indeed
whose smallest drop of blood has more worth be an affair of a civil court. But it is a crime
than all your gross and caitiff bodies ? ” against the lawf and an act of the devil which
“ Nay, not so fast, dame ; not so fast, I comes within the jurisdiction of the Abbey
pray you ! ” cried the stout summoner, whose Court of Waverley when you dare to lay
face had resumed its natural colour now that hands upon the summoner or his papers.”
he had a woman to deal with. “ 1’here is “ Indeed he speaks truth,” cried the official.
a law of England, mark you, and there are “ I know no blacker sin.”
those who serve it and uphold it, who are “ Therefore,” said the stern monk, “ it is
the true men and the King’s own lieges. the order of the holy Father Abbot that you
Such a one am I. Then, again, there are sleep this night in the Abbey cell, and that
those who take such as me and transfer, to-morrow you be brought before him at the
carry, or convey us into a bog or morass. court held in the chapter-house, so that you
Such a one is this graceless old man with the receive the fit punishment for this and the
axe, whom I have seen already this day. many other violent and froward deeds which
There are also those who tear, destroy, or you have wrought upon the servants of Holy
scatter the papers of the law, of which this Church. Enough is now said, worthy Master
young man is the chief. Therefore, I would Summoner. Archers, remove your prisoner ! ”
rede you, dame, not to rail against us, but As Nigel was lifted up by four stout archers
to understand that we are the King’s men on the Dame Ermyntrude would have rushed to
the King’s own service.” his aid, but the sacrist thrust her back.
“ What, then, is your errand in this house “ Stand off, proud woman! Let the law
at this hour of the night ? ” take its course, and learn to humble your
The summoner cleared his throat pom­ heart before the power of Holy Church. Has
pously, and, turning his parchment to the your life not taught its lesson—you, whose
light of the cressets, he read out a long horn was exalted among the highest, and will
document in Norman-French, couched in soon not have a roof above your grey hairs ?
such a style and such a language that the Stand back, I say, lest I lay a curse above
most involved and foolish of our forms are you ! ”
simplicity itself compared to those by which The old dame flamed suddenly into white
the men of the long gown made a mystery wrath as she stood before the angry monk.
o f that which of all things on earth should be “ Listen to me while I lay a curse upon
the plainest and the most simple. Despair you and yours,” she cried, as she raised her
fell cold upon Nigel's heart and blanched the shrivelled arms and blighted him with her
face of the old dame as they listened to the Hashing eyes. “ As you have done to the
dread catalogue of claims and suits and house of luring, so may God do to you,
issues, questions of peccary and turbary, of until your power is swept from the land of
Vol. xxxi.—2.
 IO 1 HE STR A N D M AGAZIN E.

England, and of your great Abbey of Already they had shorn off a field here and a
Waverley there is nothing left but a pile of grove tliere, and now in one sweep they would
grey stones in a green meadow. I see i t ! take in the rest : and where then was the
I see it ! With my old eye's I see it ! From home of the Borings, and where should the
scullion to Abbot, and from cellar to tower, Lady Ermyntrude lay her aged head, or his
may Waverley and ol d r e t a i n e r s ,
all within it droop broken and spent,
and wither from eke out the bal­
this night on.” ance of their days?
T he mo n k , He shivered as he
hard as he was, thought of it. It
quailed before the was very well for
frantic figure and him to threaten to
the bitter, burning carry the matter
words. Already before the King,
the s ummone r but it was ten
and the archers years since Royal
with their prisoner Edward had heard
were clear of the the name of Lor
house. He turned, ing, and Ni gel
and with a clang knew that the
he shut the heavy memory of Princes
door behind him. is a short one.
Besides, t he
C H A P T E R V. Church was the
HOW N IG E L WAS ruling power in
T R IE D BY T H E the palace as well
A B BO T OF as in the cottage,
W AVERLEY. and it was only for
T h e law of the very good cause
M i d d l e Ages, that a King could
shrouded as it was be expected to
in old Norman- cross the purposes
F r e n c h di al ect, of so high a pre­
and abounding in late as the Abbot
uncouth and in- of Waverley, so
com pr e he ns i bl e long as they came
t e r m s , in deo- within the scope
dands and heriots, of the law. Where,
in infang and out- then, was he to
fang, was a fearsome weapon in the hands look for help? With the simple and practical
of those who knew how to use it. It was piety of the age he prayed for the aid of his
not for nothing that the first act of the rebel own particular saints—of St. Paul, whose
commoners was to hew off the head of the adventures byland and sea had always en­
Lord Chancellor. In an age when few knew deared him ; of St. George, who had gained
how to read or to write, these mystic phrases muchhonourable advancement from the
and intricate forms, with the parchments and 1 )ragon; and of St. Thomas, who was a
seals which were their outward expression, gentleman of coat-armour, who would under­
struck cold terror into hearts which were stand and help a person of gentle blood.
steeled against mere physical danger. Even Then, much comforted by his naive orisons,
young Nigel Loring’s blithe and elastic spirit he enjoyed the sleep of youth and health
was chilled as he lay that night in the penal until the entrance of the lay-brother with the
cell of Waverley, and pondered over the bread and small beer which served as break­
absolute ruin which threatened his house fast in the morning.
from a source against which all his courage The Abbey Court sat in the chapter-house
was of no avail. As well take up sword and at the canonical hour of tierce, which was
shield to defend himself against the Black nine in the forenoon. At all times the
Death as against this blight of Holy Church. function was a solemn one, even when the
He was powerless in the grip of the Abbey. culprit might be a villein who was taker}
 SIR R I G EL. 11

poaching on the Abbey estate, or a chapman tallage for that, so many shillings this year
who had given false measure from his biased and so many marks that one. Some of it
scales. But now, when a man of noble birth occurred before Nigel was born, some of
was to be tried, the whole legal and eccle­ it when he was but a child. The accounts
siastical ceremony was carried out with every had been checked and certified by the serjeant
detail, grotesque or impressive, which the full of the law. Nigel listened to the dread
ritual prescribed. To the distant roll of recital and felt like some young stag who
Church music and the slow tolling of the stands at bay with brave pose and heart of
Abbey bell the white-robed brethren, two and fire, but who sees himself compassed round
two, walked thrice round the hall singing the and knows clearly that there is no escape.
“ Benedicite ” and the “ Veni Creator ” before VV'ith his bold young face, his steady blue
they settled in their places at the desks on eyes, and the proud poise of his head he
either side. Then in turn each high officer of was a worthy scion of the old house : and
the Abbey from below upwards— the almoner, the sun, shining through the high oriel
the lector, the chaplain, the sub-prior, and window and showing up the stained and
the prior— swept to their wonted places. threadbare condition of his once rich doublet,
Finally there came the grim sacrist, with seemed to illuminate the fallen fortunes of
demure'triumph upon his downcast features : his family.
and at his heels Abbot John himself, slow The sacrist had finished his exposition,
and dignified, with pompous walk and and the serjeant-at-law was about to con­
solemn, composed face, his iron-beaded clude a case which Nigel could in no way
rosary swinging from his waist, his breviary controvert, when help came to him from an
in his hand, and his lips muttering as he unexpected quarter. It may have been a
hurried through the office for the day. He certain malignity with which the sacrist
knelt at his high prie-dieu ; the brethren, at urged his suit, it may have been a diplomatic
a signal from the prior, prostrated themselves dislike to driving matters to extremes, or it
upon the floor, and the low, deep voices may have been some genuine impulse ol
rolled in prayer, echoed back from the kindliness, for Abbot John was choleric, but
arched and vaulted roof like the wash of easily appeased. Whatever the cause, the
waves from an ocean cavern. Finally result was that a white, plump hand, raised
the monks resumed their seats, there in the air with a gesture of authority, showed
entered clerks in seemly black, with pens that the case was at an end.
and parchment ; the red velvet summoner “ Our Brother Sacrist hath done his duty
appeared to tell his tale ; Nigel was led in, in urging this suit,” said he, “ for the worldly
with archers pressing close around him ; and wealth of this Abbey is placed in his pious
then, with much calling of old French and keeping, and it is to him that we should
much legal incantation and mystery, the look if we suffered in such ways, for we are
Court of the Abbey was open for business. but the trustees of those who come after us.
It was the sacrist who first advanced to But to my keeping has been consigned that
the oaken desk reserved for the witnesses, which is more precious still, the inner spirit
and expounded in hard, dry, mechanical and high repute of those who follow the rule
fashion the many claims which the house of of St. Bernard. Now, it has ever been
Waverley had against the family of Jxrring. our endeavour, since first our saintly founder
Some generations back, in return for money went down into the valley of Clairvaux and
advanced or for spiritual favour received, the built himself a cell there, that we should set
Coring of the day had admitted that his an example to all men in gentleness and
estate had certain feudal duties towards the humility. For this reason it is that we build
Abbey. The sacrist held up the crackling our houses in lowly places, that we have no
yellow parchment with swinging leaden seals * tower to our Abbey churches, and that no
on which the claim was based. Amid the finery and no metal, save only iron or lead,
obligations was that of escuage, by which come within our walls. A brother shall eat
the price of a knight’s fee should be paid from a wooden platter, drink from an iron
every year. No such price had been paid, cup, and light himself from a leaden sconce.
nor had any service been done. The accu­ Surely it is not for such an Order, who await
mulated years came now to a greater sum the exaltation which is promised to the
than the fee simple of the estate. There humble, to judge their own case and so
were other claims also. The sacrist called acquire the lands of their neighbour. If our
for his books, and with thin, eager forefinger cause be just, as, indeed, I believe that it is,
he tracked them down, dues for this and then it were better that it be judged at the
 THE STR A N D M AG AZIN E.

King’s Assizes at Guildford, and so I decree as the civil suit is concerned which lies
that the case be now dismissed from the between this person and the Abbey. That
Abbey Court so that it can be heard else­ is your affair. But it is I, Joseph the sum­
where.” moner, who have been grievously and crimi­
Nigel breathed a prayer to the three sturdy nally mishandled, my writs, papers, and
saints who had stood by him so manfully indentures destroyed, my authority flouted,
and well in the hour of his need. and my person dragged through a bog, quag­
“ Abbot John,” said he, “ 1 never thought mire, or morass, so that my velvet gabardine
that any man of my name would utter thanks and silver badge of office were lost and are,
to a Cistercian of Waverley, but by St. Paul as I verily believe, in the morass, quagmire,
you have spoken like a man this day, for it or bog afore mentioned, which is the same
would indeed be to play with cogged dice if bog, morass— —”
the Abbey’s case is to be tried in the Abbey “ Enough ! ’’ cried the Abbot, sternly. “ Lay
Court.” aside this foolish fashion of speech and say
The eighty white-clad brethren looked straightly what you desire.”
with half-resentful, half-amused eyes as they “ Holy father, I have been the officer of
listened to this frank address to one who, in the King’s law no less than the servant of
their small lives, seemed to be the direct Holy Church, and 1 have been let, hindered,
vice-regent of Heaven. The archers had and assaulted in the performance of my law­
stood back from Nigel as though he were at ful and proper duties, while my papers, drawn
liberty to go, when the loud voice of the in the King’s name, have been shended and
summoner broke in upon the silence. rended and cast to the wind. Therefore I
“ If it please you, holy Father Abbot,” demand justice upon this man in the Abbey
cried the voice, “ this decision of yours is Court, the said assault having been com­
indeed secundum legem and infra vires so far mitted within the banlieue of the Abbey’s
jurisdiction.”
“ Wh a t h a v e
you to say to this,
Brother Sacrist?”
asked the Abbot,
in some perplexity.
“ 1 would say,
father, that it is
within our power
to deal gently and
charitably with all
that concerns our­
selves, but that
where the King’s
of f i cer is c o n ­
ce r ne d 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 t hi s m a n ’s
violence, but that
he has before now-
beaten our ser­
vants, defied our
authority, and put
pike in the Abbot’s
own fish-pond.”
The prelate’s
T H E R E F O R E I D E M A N D J U S T I C E UPON T H I S M A N .' heavy c h e e k s
 SIR A IG E L . 13
flushed with anger as this old grievance came my power to tame your over-bold spirit, and
fresh into his mind. His eyes hardened as to chasten that headstrong and violent humour
he looked at the prisoner. which has caused such scandal in your deal­
“ Tell me, Squire Nigel, did you indeed ings with our Abbey. Bread and water for
put pike in the pond ? ” six weeks, from now to the Feast of St.
The young man drew himself proudly up. Benedict, with a daily exhortation from our
“ Ere I answer such a question, Father chaplain, the pious Father Ambrose, may still
Abbot,.do you answer one from me, and tell avail to bend the stiff neck and to soften the
me what the monks of Waverley have ever hard heart.”
done for me that I should hold my hand At this ignominious sentence, by which the
when I could injure them ? ” proud heir of the house of Loring would
A low murmur ran round the room, partly share the fate of the meanest village poacher,
wonder at his frankness and partly anger at the hot blood of Nigel rushed to his face,
his boldness. The Abbot settled down in and his eye glanced round him with a gleam
his seat as one who has made up his mind. which said more plainly than words that
“ Let the case of the summoner be laid there could be no tame acceptance of such
before me,” said he. “ Justice shall be done a doom. Twice he tried to speak, and twice
and the offender shall be punished, be he his anger and his shame held the words in
noble or simple. Let the plaint be brought his throat.
before the Court.” “ I am no subject of yours, proud Abbot,”
The tale of the summoner, though rambling he cried at last. “ My house has ever been
and filled with endless legal reiteration, was vavasour to the King. I deny the power of
only too clear in its essence. Red Swire, you and your Court to lay sentence upon me.
with his angry face framed in white bristles, Punish these your own monks, who whimper
was led in, and confessed to his ill-treatment at your frown, but do not dare to lay your
o f the official. A second culprit, a little wiry hand upon him who fears you not, for he is
nut-browm archer from Churt, had aided and a free man. and the peer of any save only the
abetted in the deed. Both of them were King himself.”
ready to declare that young Squire Nigel The Abbot seemed for an instant taken
Loring knew nothing of the matter. But aback by these bold words and by the high
then there was the awkward incident of the and strenuous voice in which they were
tearing of the writs. Nigel, to whom a lie uttered. But the sterner sacrist came as ever
was an impossibility, had to admit that with to stiffen his will. He held up the old parch­
his own hands he had shredded those august ment in his hand.
documents. As to an excuse or an explana­ “ The Lorings were indeed vavasours to
tion, he was too proud to advance any. A the King,” said he, “ but here is the very seal
cloud gathered over the brow of the Abbot, of Eustace Loring, which shows that he made
and the sacrist gazed w’ith an ironical smile himself vassal to the Abbey and held his
at the prisoner, while a solemn hush fell over land from it.”
the chapter-house as the case ended and only “ Because he was gentle,” cried Nigel ;
judgment remained. “ because he had no thought of trick or
“ Squire Nigel,” said the Abbot, “ it was guile.”
for you, who are, as all men know, of ancient “ Nay ! ” said the summoner. “ I f my
lineage in this land, to give a fair example voice may be heard, Father Abbot, upon a
by which others should set their conduct. point of the law, it is of no weight what the
Instead of this, your manor-house has ever causes may have been why a deed is sub­
been a centre for the stirring-up of strife, and scribed, signed, or confirmed, but a Court is
now, not content with your harsh showing only concerned with the terms, articles,
towards us, the Cistercian monks of Waverley, covenants, and contracts of the said deed.”
you have even marked your contempt for the “ Besides,” said the sacrist, “ sentence is
King's law, and through your servants have passed by the Abbey Court, and there is an
mishandled the person of his messenger. For end of its honour and good name if it be not
such offences it is in my power to call the upheld.”
spiritual terrors of the Church upon your “ Brother Sacrist,” said the Abbot, angrily,
h e a d ; and yet I would not be harsh with you, “ methinks you show overmuch zeal in this
seeing that you are young, and that even last case, and certes we , -e well able to uphold
week you saved the life of a servant of the the dignity and honou ■ of the Abbey Court
Abbey when in peril. Therefore, it is by without any rede of thine. As to you,
temporal and carnal means that I will use worthy summoner, you \ ‘11 give your opinion
 14 TH E STRAND M AGA/JNE.

when we crave for it, and not before, or fellow, clad like the others in green jerkin
you may yourself get some touch of the and breeches, with high brown boots,
power of our tribunal. But your case hath advanced slowly, sword in hand, against
been tried, Squire Loring, and judgment Nigel. His heart was not in the business,
given. I have no more to say.” for these clerical courts were not popular,
He motioned with his hand, and an archer and everyone had a tender heart for the
laid his grip upon the shoulder of the fallen fortunes of the house of Loring, and
prisoner. But that rough plebeian touch wished well to its young heir.
woke every passion of revolt in Nigel’s spirit. “ Come, young sir, you have caused scathe
Of all his high line of ancestors was there enough,” said he. “ Stand forth and give
one who had been subjected to such ignominy yourself up.”
as this ? Would they not have preferred “ Come and fetch me, good fellow,” said
death ? And should he be the first to lower Nigel, with a dangerous smile.
their spirit or their traditions ? With a quick, The archer ran in. There was a rasp of
lithe movement he slipped under the arm of steel, a blade flickered like a swift dart of
the archer and plucked the short, straight flame, and the man staggered back with
sword from the soldier’s side as he did so. blood running down his forearm and drip­
The next instant he had wedged himself into ping from his fingers. He wrung them and
the recess of one of the narrow windows, and growled a Saxon oath.
there were his pale, set face, his burning “ By the black rood of Bromeholm ! ” he
eyes, and his ready blade turned upon the cried, “ I had as soon put my hand down a
assembly. fox's earth to drag up a vixen from her cubs.”
“ By St. Paul ! ” said he, “ I never thought “ Stand off,” said Nigel, curtly. “ I would
to find honourable advancement under the not hurt you ; but, by St. Paul, I will not be
roof of an Abbey, but perchance there may handled, or someone will be hurt in the
be some room for it ere you hale me to your handling.”
prison.” So fierce was his eye and so menacing his
The chapter-house was in an uproar. blade as he crouched in the narrow bay of
Never in the long and decorous history of the window that the little knot of archers
the Abbey had such a scene been witnessed were at a loss what to do. The Abbot had
within its walls. The monks themselves forced his way through the crowd, and stood,
seemed for an instant to be infected by purple with outraged dignity, at their side.
this spirit of daring revolt. Their own life­ “ He is outside the law,” said he. “ He
long fetters hung more loosely as they viewed hath shed blood in a Court of Justice, and
this unheard-of defiance of authority. They for such a sin there is no forgiveness. I will
broke from their seats on either side and not have my Court so flouted and set at
huddled, half scared, half fascinated, in a naught. He who draws the sword, by the
large half-circle round the defiant captive, sword also let him perish. Forester Hugh,
chattering, pointing, grimacing, a scandal for lay a shaft to your bow.”
all time. Scourges should fall and penance The man, who was one of the Abbey’s lay-
tie done for many a long week before the servants, put his weight upon his long-bow
shadow of that day should pass from Waver- and slipped the loose end of the string into
lev. But meanwhile there was no effort to the upper notch. Then, drawing one of the
bring them back to their rule. Kverything terrible three foot arrows, steel-tipped and
was chaos and disorder. The Abbot had gaudily winged, from his waist, he laid it to
left his seat of justice and hurried angrily the string.
forward, to lie engulfed and hustled in tile- “ Now draw your bow and hold it ready,”
crowd of his own monks like a sheep dog cried the furious Abbot. “ Squire Nigel, it
who finds himself entangled amid the Hock. is not for Holv Church to shed blood, but
Only the sacrist stood clear. He had taken there is naught but violence which will
shelter behind the half-dozen archers, who prevail against the violent, and on your head
looked with some approval and a good deal be the sin. Cast down the sword which you
of indecision at this bold fugitive from justice. hold in your hand.”
“ On. then ! ” cried the sacrist. “ Shall “ Will vou give me freedom to leave your
he defy the authority of the Court, or shall Abbey ? ”
one man hold six of you at bay? Close in “ When you have abided your sentence
upon him and seize him. You, Baddlesmere, and purged your sin.”
why do you hold back ? ” “ Then 1 had rather die where I stand than
The man in question, a tall, bushy bearded give up my sword.”
 SIR N IG E L.

“ ‘ COME A N D FETCH M E , GOOD F E L L O W , ' S A I D N I G E L , W ITH A DA NG ERO US SM ILE.”

A dangerous flame lit in the Abbot’s eyes. but once out of his corner he was lost indeed.
H e came of a lighting Norman stock, like so Yet at the last he would have rushed
many of those fierce prelates who, bearing a amongst his enemies, and his body was bent
mace lest they should be guilty of effusion of for the spring, when with a deep, sonorous
blood, led their troops into battle, ever re­ hum, like a breaking harp-string, the cord of
membering that it was one of their own cloth the bow was cloven in twain, and the arrow
and dignity who, crazier in hand, had turned tinkled upon, the tiled floor. At the same
the long-drawn, fatal day of Hastings. The moment a young, curly-headed bowman,
soft accent of the Churchman was gone, and it whose broad shoulders and deep chest told
was the hard voice of a soldier which said :— of immense strength, as clearly as his frank,
“ One minute I give you and no more. laughing face and honest blue eyes did of
Then when I cry ‘ Loose! ’ drive me an good humour and courage, sprang forward,
arrow through his body.” sword in hand, and took his place by Nigel’s
The shaft was fitted, the bowrwas bent, and side.
the stern eyes of the woodman were fixed on “ Nay, comrades,” said he. “ Samkin
his mark. Slowly the minute passed, while Aylward cannot stand by and see a gallant
Nigel breathed a prayer to his three soldier man shot down like a bull at the end of a
saints, not that they should save his body in baiting. Five against one is long odds, but
this life, but that they should have a kindly two against four is better, and by my finger-
care for his soul in the next. Some thought bones Squire Nigel and I leave this room
o f a fierce wild-cat sally crossed his mind, together, be it on our feet or no.”
 i6 TH E STRAND M A G A Z IN E .

The formidable appearance of this ally, drama with the interest and delight with
and his high reputation among his fellows, which men hail a sudden break in a dull
gave a further chill to the lukewarm ardour routine. Suddenly there was an agitation
of the attack. Aylward’s left arm was passed at the back of this group, then a swirl in
through his strung bow, and he was known the centre, and, finally, the front rank
from YVoolmer Forest to the Weald as the was violently thrust aside. Through the
quickest, surest archer that ever dropped a gap there emerged a strange and whimsical
running deer at ten score paces. figure, who from the instant of his appear­
“ Nay, Baddlesmere, hold your fingers from ance dominated both chapter - house and
your string-case, or I may chance to give Abbey, monks, prelates, and archers, as if he
your drawing-hand a two months’ rest,” said were their owner and their master.
Aylward. “ Swords, if you will, comrades ; He was a man somewhat above middle
but no man strings his bow till I have loosed age, with thin, lemon-coloured hair, a curling
mine.” moustache, a tufted chin of the same hue,
Yet the angry hearts of both Abbot and and a high, craggy face, all running to a great
sacrist rose higher with a fresh obstacle. hook of a nose, like the beak of an eagle.
“ This is an ill day for your father, Franklin His skin was tanned a brown red by much
Aylward, who holds the tenancy of Crooks- exposure to wind and sun. In height he
bury,” said the sacrist. “ He will rue it that was tall, and his figure was thin and loose-
ever he begot a son who will lose him his jointed, but stringy and hard-bitten. One
acres and his steading.” eye was entirely covered by its lid, which lay
“ My father is a bold yeoman, and would fiat over an empty socket, but the other
rue it even more that ever his son should danced and sparkled with a most roguish
stand by while foul work was afoot,” said light, darting here and there with a twinkle
Aylward. stoutly. “ Fall on, comrades ! We of humour and criticism and intelligence, the
are waiting.” whole fire of his soul bursting
Encouraged through that one narrow cranny.
by promises of H is dress
reward if they was as note­
should fall in worthy as his
the service of person. A rich
the Ab b e y , purple doublet
and by threats and cloak was
of penalties if marked on the
they s houl d lapels with a
hold back, the strange scarlet
four archers device shaped
were about to like a wedge.
close, when a Co s t l y lace
singular inter­ hung round
r upt i on gave his shoulders,
an entirely new and amid its
turn to the soft folds there
proceedings. smouldered
At the door the dull red of
of the chapter- a heavy golden
house, whilst chain. A
these fiery knight’s belt at
doi ngs had his waist and
been afoot, a knight’s
there had golden spurs
assembled a twinkling from
mixed crowd h i s doeski n
of lay brothers, ri di ng -boots
servants, and proclaimed his
var l et s, who rank, and on
had watched the wrist of his
the develop­ left gauntlet
ment o f the t her e sat a
 SIR N IG E L. *7

demure little hooded falcon, of a breed have been to his house and they have sent
which in itself was a mark of the dignity me hither. The name is Nigel Loring.”
of the owner. Of weapons he had none, “ It is for me, fair sir.”
but a mandoline was slung by a black “ I had thought as much. I knew your
silken band over his back, and the high father, Eustace Loring, and though he would
brown end projected above his shoulder. have made two of you, yet he has left his
Such was the man—quaint, critical, masterful, stamp plain enough upon your face.”
with a touch of what is formidable behind “ You know not the truth of this matter,”
it all—who now surveyed the opposing groups said the Abbot. “ If you are a loyal man
of armed men and angry monks with an eye you will stand aside, for this young man hath
which commanded their attention. grievously offended against the law, and it is
“ Excusez ! ” said he, in a lisping French. for the King’s lieges to give us their support.”
“ Excusez, mes amis ! I had thought to arouse “ And you have haled him up for
you from prayer or meditation, but never judgment,” cried the stranger, with much
have I seen such a holy exercise as this under amusement. “ It is as though a rookery sat
an Abbey’s roof, with swords for breviaries in judgment upon a falcon. I warrant that
and archers for acolytes. I fear that I have you have found it easier to judge than to
come amiss, and yet I ride on an errand from punish. Let me tell you, Father Ahbot, that
one who permits no delay.” this standeth not aright. When powers such
The Abbot, and possibly the sacrist also, as these were given to the like of you, they
had begun to realize that 'events had gone a were given that you might check a brawling
very great deal farther than they had intended, underling or correct a drunken woodman, and
and that without an extreme scandal it was not that you might drag the best blood in
no easy matter for them to save their dignity England to your bar, and set your archers on
and the good name of Waverley. Therefore, him if he questioned your findings.”
in spite of the debonair, not to say dis­ The Abbot was little used to hear such
respectful, bearing of the new comer, they words of reproof uttered in so stern a voice
rejoiced at his appearance and intervention. under his own Abbey roof and before his
“ I am the Abbot of Waverley, fair son,” listening monks.
said the prelate. “ If your message deal “ You may perchance find that an Abbey
with a public matter it may be fitly repeated Court has more powers than you wot of, Sir
in the chapter-house ; if not I will give you Knight,” said he— “ if knight indeed you be
audience in my own chamber, for it is clear who are so uncourteous and short in your
to me that you are a gentleman of blood and speech. Ere we go farther I would ask your
coat armour who would not lightly break in name and style ? ”
upon the business of our court—a business The stranger laughed.
which, as you have remarked, is little wel­ “ It is easy to see that you are indeed men
come to men of peace like myself and the of peace,” said he, proudly. “ Had I shown
brethren of the rule of St. Bernard.” this sign ”— and he touched the tokens upon
“ Pardieu, Father A b b ot! ” said the his lapels—“ whether on shield or pennon,
stranger. “ One had but to glance at you in the marches of France or Scotland, there
and your men to see that the business was, is not'a cavalier but would have known the
indeed, little to your taste, and it may be red pile of Chandos.”
even less so when I say that rather than see Chandos, John Chandos, the flower of
this young person in the window, who hath English chivalry, the pink of knight-errantry,
a noble Bearing, further molested by these the hero already’ of fifty desperate enter­
archers, I will myself adventure my person prises, a name known and honoured from
on his behalf.” end to end of Europe! Nigel gazed at him
The Abbot’s smile turned to a frown at as one who sees a vision. The archers stood
these frank words. back abashed, while the monks crowded
“ It would become you better, sir, to closer to stare at the famous soldier of the
deliver the message of which you say that French wars. The Abbot abated his tone
you are the bearer, than to uphold a and a smile came to his angry face.
prisoner against the rightful judgment of “ We are indeed men of peace, Sir John,
a Court.” and little skilled in warlike blazonry,” said
The stranger swept the court with his he, “ yet stout as are our Abbey walls, they
questioning eye. are not so thick that the fame of your
“ The message is not for you, good Father exploits has not passed through them and
Abbot. It is for one whom I know not. 1 reached our ears. If it be your pleasure to
Vol. xxxi. —3
 i8 TH E STR A N D M AG A ZIN E.

take an interest in this young and misguided “ and yet I hope that he is one who can
squire it is not for us to thwart your kind inten­ relish a soldier’s fare and sleep under a
tion or to withhold such grace as you request. humble roof, for, indeed, we can but give
I am glad indeed that he hath one who can our best, poor as it is.”
set him so fair an example for a friend.” “ He is indeed a soldier, and a good one,”
“ I thank you for your courtesy, good Chandos answered, laughing, “ and I warrant
Father Abbot,” said Chandos, carelessly. he has slept in rougher quarters than Tilford
“ This young squire has, however, a better manor-house.”
friend than myself, one who is kinder to those “ 1 have few friends, fair sir,” said Nigel,

“ hr who c o m e s t o s e e k the SHFI.TKK o f y o u r r o o f i s y o l k l i e g e lord a n d m in e, t h e k i n g ’s

H IG H M A J E S T Y , E D W A R D OK E N G L A N D . ”

he loves and more terrible to those he hates. with a puzzled face. “ I pray you give me
It is from him I bear a message.” this gentleman’s name.”
“ I pray you, fair and honoured sir,” said “ His name is Edward.”
Nigel, “ that you will tell me what is the “ Sir Edward Mortimer of Kent, perchance,
message that you bear.” or is it Sir Edward Brocas, of whom the Lady
“ The message, mon ami, is that your Ermyntrude talks ? ”
friend comes into these parts and would “ Nay, he is known as Edward only, and if
have a night’s lodging at the manor house you ask a second name it is Plantagenet, for
of Tilford for the love and respect that he he who comes to seek the shelter of your
bears your family.” roof is your liege lord and mine, the King’s
“ Nay, he is most welcome,” said N ig el; High Majesty, Edward of England.”

(To be continued.)
 SIR NIGEL.
B y A . C O N A N D O Y L E .
CH APTER VI. your following, and I doubt not that they
IN W HICH LA D Y E R M Y N T R U D E O PEN S T H E were stout fellows in your grandfather’s time,
IRON C O FFER . but which of them now could draw a bow­
S in a dream Nigel heard these string to his ear? Through you I have left
stupendous and incredible the service of the Abbey of Waverley, and
words. As in a dream also he where can I look now for a post ? If I stay
had a vision of a smiling and here I am all undone like a fretted bow­
conciliatory Abbot, of an ob string.”
sequious sacrist, and of a band “ Nay, there can be no hindrance there,”
of archers who cleared a path for him and said Chandos. “ Pardieu ! a roystering,
for the King’s messenger through the motley swaggering, daredevil archer is worth his
crowd who had choked the entrance of the price on the French border. There are two
Abbey Court. A minute later he was walk­ hundred such who march behind my own
ing by the side of Chandos through the person, and I would ask nothing better than
peaceful cloister, and in front, in the open to see you amongst them.”
archway of the great gate, was the broad “ I thank you, noble sir, for your offer,”
yellow road between its borders of green said Aylward, “ and I had rather follow your
meadowland. The spring air was the sweeter banner than many another one, for it is well
and the more fragrant for that chill dread of known that it goes ever forward, and I have
dishonour and captivity which had so recently heard enough of the wars to know that there
frozen his ardent heart. He had already are small pickings for the man who lags
passed the portal when a hand plucked at his behind. Yet, if the squire will have me, I
sleeve, and he turned to find himself con­ would choose to fight under the five roses of
fronted by the brown, honest face and bold Coring, for though I was born in the hundred
eyes of the archer who had interfered in his of Easebourne and the rape of Chichester,
behalf. yet I have grown up and learned to use the
“ Well,” said Aylward, “ what have you to long-bow in these parts, and as the free son
say to me, young sir ? ” of a free franklin I had rather serve my own
“ What can I say, my good fellow, save neighbour than a stranger.”
that I thank you with all my heart ? By “ My good fellow,” said Nigel, “ I have told
S t Paul, if you had been my blood- you that I could in no wise reward you for
brother you could not have stood by me such service.”
more stoutly.” “ If you will but take me to the wars, I
“ Nay ; but this is not enough.” will see to my own reward,” said Aylward.
Nigel coloured with vexation, and the more “ Pill then I ask for none, save a corner of
so as Chandos was listening with his critical your table and six feet of your floor, for it is
smile to their conversation. certain that the only reward I would get
“ If you had heard what was said in the from the Abbey for this day’s work would be
court,” said he, “ you would understand that I the scourge for my back and the stocks for
am not blessed at this moment with much of my ankles. Samkin Aylward is your man,
this world’s gear. The Black Death and the Squire Nigel, from this hour on, and by these
monks have between them been heavy upon ten finger-bones he trusts the devil will fly
our estate. Willingly would I give you a away with him if ever he gives you cause to
handful of gold for your assistance, since regret it.” So saying, he raised his hand to
that is what you seem to crave, but indeed I his steel cap in salute, slung his great yellow
have it not, and so, once more, I say that bow over his back, and followed on some
you must be satisfied with my thanks.” paces in the rear of his new master.
“ Your gold is nothing to me,” said Ayl­ “ Pardieu ! I have arrived & la bonne
ward, shortly, “ nor would you buy my loyalty heure,” said Chandos. “ I rode from
if you filled my hufken with rose-nobles so Windsor and came to your manor-house to
long as you were not a man after my own find it empty save for a fine old dame, who
heart. But I have seen you back the yellow told me of your troubles. From her I
horse and I have seen you face the Abbot walked across to the Abbey, and none too
of Waverley, and you are such a master as soon, for what with clothyard shafts for your
I would very gladly serve if you have by body, and bell, book, and candle for your
chance a place for such a man. I have seen soul, it was no very cheerful outlook. But
Copyright, 1906, by A. Conan Doyle, in the United States of America.
 134 TH E STRAND M A G A ZIN E .

me say, noble and

honoured lady, that
he would come from
Guildford in an easy
stage, so that he
m ight sp en d one
night under your
roof.”
The old dame
flushed with plea­
su re, a n d t h e n
turned white with
v e x a tio n at the
words.
“ It is in truth
great honour 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.”
“ PAKDIEU ! I H A V E A R R I V E D K L.A B O N N E H E t ’ R E , ’ S A I D
CHAN DO S." But Chandos reasoned away her fears.
The King’s retinue would journey on to
here is the very dame herself, if I mistake Farnham Castle. There were no ladies in
not.” his party. Though he was King, still he was
It was indeed the formidable figure of the a hardy soldier, and cared little for his ease.
Lady Ermyntrude—gaunt, bowed, and lean­ In any case, since he had declared, his
ing on her staff, which had emerged from the coni ng they must make the best of it.
door of the manor-house and advanced to Finally, with all delicacy, Chandos offered
greet them. She croaked with laughter, and his own purse if it would help in the matter.
shook her stick at the great building as she But already the Lady Ermyntrude had
heard of the discomfiture of the Abbey recovered her composure.
Court. Then she led the way into the hall, “ Nay, fair kinsman, that may not be,” said
where the best which she could provide had she. “ I will make such preparation as I may
been laid out for their illustrious guest. for the King. He will bear in mind that, if
There was Chandos blood in her own veins, the house of Loring can give nothing else,
traceable back through the de Greys, de they have always held their blood and their
Multons, de Valences, de Montagues, and lives at his disposal.”
other high and noble strains, so that the Chandos was to ride on to Farnham Castle
meal had been eaten and cleared before and beyond, but he expressed his desire to
she had done tracing the network of inter­ have a warm bath ere he left Tilford ; for,
marriages and connections, with quarterings, like most of his fellow-knights, he was much
impalements, lozenges, and augmentations by addicted to simmering in the hottest water
which the blazonry of the two families might that he could possibly endure. The bath,
be made to show a common origin. Back therefore, a high hooped arrangement like a
to the Conquest, and before it, there was broader but shorter churn, was carried into
not a noble family tree every twig and bud the privacy of the guest chamber, and thither
of which was not familiar to the Dame it was that Nigel was summoned to hold him
Ermyntrude. company whilst he stewed and sweltered in
And now, when the trestles were cleared his tub. Nigel perched himself upon the
and the three were left alone in the hall, side of the high bed, swinging his legs over
Chandos broke his message to the lady. the edge, and gazing with wonder and amuse­
“ King Edward hath ever borne in mind ment at the quaint face, the ruffled yellow
that noble knight your son, Sir Eustace,” hair, and the sinewy shoulders of the famous
said he. “ He will journey to Southampton warrior, dimly seen amid a pillar of steam.
next wgek, and 1 am his harbinger. He bade He was in a mood for talk, so Nigel, with
 SIR N IG EL. *35

eager eyes, plied him with a thousand ques­ “ No better in the world, for the spears are
tions about the wars, hanging upon every twelve foot long, and they hold them in very
word which came back to him, like those of thick array ; but their archers are weak, save
the ancient oracles, out of the mist and the only the men of Ettrick and Selkirk, who
cloud. To Chandos himself, the old soldier come from the forest. I pray you to open
for whom war had lost its freshness, it was a the lattice, Nigel, for the steam is over thick.
renewal of his own ardent youth to hear Now, in Wales it is the spearmen who are
Nigel’s rapid questions and to mark the weak, and there are no archers in these
rapt attention with which he listened. islands like the men of Gwent, with their
“ Tell me of the Welsh, honoured sir,” bows of elm, which shoot with such power
asked the squire. “ What manner of soldiers that I have known a cavalier to have his
are the Welsh ? ” horse killed when the shaft had passed
“ They are very valiant men of war,” said through his mail-breeches, his thigh, and his
Chandos, splashing about in his tub. “ There saddle. And yet, what is the most strongly-
is good skirmishing to be had in their valleys shot arrow to these new balls of iron driven
if you ride with a small following. They by the fire-powder, which will crush a man’s
flare up like a furze bush in the flames, but armour as an egg is crushed by a stone?
if for a short space you may abide the heat Our fathers knew them not.”
of it, then there is a chance that it may be “ Then the better for us,” cried Nigel,
cooler ! ” “ since there is at least one honourable
“ And the Scotch ? ” asked Nigel. “ You venture which is all our own.”
have made war upon them also, as I under­ Chandos chuckled and turned upon the
stand.” flushed youth a twinkling and sympathetic
“ The Scotch knights have no masters in eye.
the world, and he who can hold his own with “ You have a fashion of speech which
the best of them, be it a Douglas, a Murray, or carries me back to the old men whom I met in
a Seaton, has nothing more to learn. Though my boyhood,” said he. “ There were some of
you be a hard the real old knights-
man, you will errant left in those
always meet as days, and they spoke
hard a one if as yo u d o .
you ride north­ Young as you
w ard. I f the are, you belong
Welsh be like to another age.
the furze fire, Where got you
then, pardieu ! that trick o f
the Scotch are th ough t a n d
the peat, for word ? ”
they will smoul­ “ I have only
der, and you h ad o n e to
will never come teach me— the
to the end of L a d y E rm yn -
them. I have trude.”
had many happy “ Pardieu! she
hours on the has trained a
marchesof Scot­ proper young
land, tor even if hawk ready to
there be no war s t o o p at a
the Percies of lordly quarry,”
Alnwick or the said Chandos.
G o v e rn o r o f “ I would that
Carlisle can still I had the first
ra ise a little unhooding of
bickering with you. Will you
the B o rd e r c la n s .” not ride with
“ I bear in mind that me to the wars ? ”
my father was wont to The tears brimmed over
say that they were very from Nigel’s eyes, and he
stout spearmen.” wrung the gaunt hand
 i 3o THE STRAN D M A G A ZIN E .

extended from the bath. “ By St. Paul, what with the tale of your deeds, and I have heard
could I ask better in the world? I fear to leave that in one morning three champions have
her, for she lias none other to care for her. fallen before your lance. Was it not so ? ”
But if it can in any way be arranged— —” “ That it was indeed so these scars upon
“ The King’s hand may smooth it out. Say my body will prove; but these were the
no more until he is here. But if you wish to follies of my youth.”
ride with me----- -” “ How can you call them follies? Are
“ What could man wish for more? Is they not the means by which honourable
there a squire in England lyho would not advancement may be gained and one’s lady
serve under the banner of Chandos? Whither exalted ? ”
do you go, fair sir ? And when do you go ? “ It is right that you should think so,
Is it to Scotland? Is it to Ireland? Is it Nigel. At your age a man should have a
to France? But alas, a la s !” hot head and a high heart. I also had both,
The eager face had clouded. For the and fought for my lady’s glove or for my vow,
instant he had forgotten that a suit of armour or for the love of fighting. But as one grows
was as much beyond his means as a service older and commands men one has other
of gold plate Down in a twinkling came things to care for. One thinks less of one’s
all his high hopes to the ground. Oh, these own -honour and more of the safety of the
sordid material things, which come between army. It is not your own spear, your own
our dreams and their fulfilment! The squire sword, your owm arm which will turn the
of such a knight must dress with the best. tide of fight, but a cool head may save a
Yet all the fee simple of Tilford would scarce stricken field. He who knows when his
suffice for one suit of plate. horsemen should charge and when they
Chandos with his quick wit and knowledge should fight on foot, he who can mix his
of the w'orld had guessed the cause of this archers with his men-at-arms in such a fashion
sudden change. that each can support the other, he who can
“ If you fight under my banner it is for me hold up his reserve and pour it into the battle
to find the weapons,” said he. “ Nay, I will when it may turn the tide, he who has a quick
not be denied.” eye for boggy land and broken ground, that
But Nigel shook his head sadly. is the man who is of more worth to an army
“ It may not be. The Lady Ermyntrude than Roland, Oliver, and all the Paladins.”
would sell this old house and every acre “ Yet if his knights fail him, honoured sir,
round it ere she would permit me to accept all his headwork will not prevail.”
this gracious bounty which you offer. Yet I “ True enough, Nigel ; so may every squire
do not despair, for only last week I won for ride to the wars with his soul on fire, as yours
myself a noble war-horse, for which I paid is now. But I must linger no longer, for the
not a penny, so perchance a suit of armour King’s service must be done. I will dress,
may also come my way.” and when I have bid farewell to the noble
“ And how won you the horse ? ” Dame Ermyntrude I will on to Famham,
“ It was given me by the monks of but you will see me here again on the day
Waverley.” that the King comes.”
“ This is wonderful. Pardieu 1 I should So Chandos went his way that evening,
have expected, from what I have seen, that walking his horse through the peaceful lanes
they would have given you little save their and twanging his citole as he went, for he
malediction.” loved music and was famous for his merry
“ They had no use for the horse, and they songs. The cottagers came from their huts,
gave it to me.” and laughed and clapped as the rich, full
“ Then we have only to find someone who voice swelled and sank to the cheery tinkling
has no use for a suit of armour and will give of the strings. There were few who saw him
it to you. Yet I trust that you will think pass that would have guessed that the quaint,
better of it and let me—since that good lady one-eyed man with the yellow hair was the
proves that I am your kinsman— fit you for toughest fighter and craftiest man of war in
the wars.” Europe. Once only, as he entered Famham,
“ I thank you, noble sir, and if I should an old broken man at-arms ran out in his
turn to anyone it would indeed be to you, rags and clutched at his horse as a dog
but there are other ways which I would try gambols round his master. Chandos threw
first. But I pray you, good Sir John, to tell him a kind word and a gold coin as he passed
me of some of your noble spear-runnings on to the Castle.
against the French, for the whole land rings In the meanwhile young Nigel and the
 SIR NIG EL. i 37
Lady Ermyntrude, left alone with their diffi­ for indeed I have not opened the hutch for
culties, looked blankly in each other's faces. fear that we might be tempted in our great
“ The cellar is well-nigh empty,” said need to turn them into money. I have kept
Nigel. “ There are two firkins of small beer them out of my sight and even out of my
and a tun of canary. How can we set such thoughts. But now it is the honour of the
drink before the King and his Court ? ” house which calls, and even these must go.
“ We must have some wine of Bordeaux. This goblet was that which my husband, Sir
With that and the mottled cow’s calf, and Nele Loring, won after the intaking of
the fowls, and a goose, we can set forth a Belgarde, when he and his comrades held
sufficient repast if he stays only for the one the lists from matins to vespers against the
night. How many will be with him ? ” flower of the French chivalry. The salver
“ A dozen, at the least.” was given him by the Earl of Pembroke in
The old dame wrung her hands in despair. memory of his valour upon the field of
“ Nay, take it not to heart, dear lady,” said Falkirk.”
Nigel. “ We have but to say the word, and “ And the bracelet, dear lady ? ”
the King would stop at Waverley, where he “ You will not laugh, N igel?”
and his Court would find all
that they could wish.”
“ Never ! ” cried the Lady
Ermyntrude. “ It would be
shame and disgrace to us for
ever if the King were to pass
our door when he has gra­
ciously 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 un­
locked it. The rusty hinges,
screaming shrillyas shethrew
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 “ FROM T H E VERY B OT TO M OK T H E BO X S H E D R E W T H R E E O B J E C T S . ”

child’s shoe, a love - knot

done in faded green ribbon, some letters in “ Nay ; why should I laugh ? ”
rude rough script, and a vernicle of St. “ The bracelet was the prize for the Queen
Thomas. Then from the very bottom of the of Beauty which was given to me before all
box she drew three objects, swathed in silken the high-born ladies of England by Sir Nele
cloth, which she uncovered and laid upon Loring a month before our marriage. The
the table. The one was a bracelet of rough Queen of Beauty, Nigel— I, old and twisted,
gold studded with uncut rubies, the second as you see me. Five strong men went down
was a gold salver, and the third was a before his lance before he won that trinket
high goblet of the same metal. for me. And now, in my last years------•”
“ You have heard me speak of these, “ Nay, dear and honoured lady, we will
Nigel, but never before have you seen them, not part with it.”
Vol. xxxi.—18.
 138 TH E STR A N D M AG AZIN E.

“ Yes, N ig el; he would have it so. I can he met with a harsher greeting. It was from
hear his whisper in my ear. Honour to him a tall, white headed, red-faced man whom
was everything—the rest nothing. Take it they met upon the moor.
from me, Nigel, ere my heart weakens. “ Good morrow, dear father,” cried Ayl­
To-morrow you will ride with it to Guildford, ward. “ How is it with you at Crooksbury ?
you will see Thorold the goldsmith, and you And how is the new black cow, and the ewes
will raise enough money to pay for all that from Alton, and Mary the dairymaid, and all
we shall need for the King’s coming.” She your gear ? ”
turned her face away to hide the quivering of “ It ill becomes you to ask, you ne’er-do-
her wrinkled features, and the Crash of the weel,” said the old man. “ You have angered
iron lid covered the sob which burst from the monks of Waverley, whose tenant I am,
her overwrought soul. and they would drive me out of my farm.
Yet there are three more years to run, and,
C H A P T E R V II. do what they may, I will bide till then. But
HOW N IG E L W EN T M A R K E T IN G TO little did I think that I should lose my home­
G U ILD FO R D . stead through you, Samkin, and, big as you
I t was on a bright June morning that young are, I would knock the dust out of that green
Nigel, with youth and springtime to make his jerkin with a good hazel switch if I had you
heart light, rode upon his errand from Tilford at Crooksbury.”
to Guildford town. Beneath him was his “ Then you shall do it to-morrow morning,
great yellow war-horse, caracoling and curvet­ good father, for I will come and see you
ing as he went, as blithe and free of spirit as then. But indeed I did not do more at
his master. In all England one would scarce Waverley than you would have done your­
have found upon that morning so high- self. Look me in the eye, old hot-head, and
mettled and so debonair a pair. The sandy' tell me if you would have stood by while the
road wound through groves of fir, where the last Loring— look at him, as he rides, with
breeze came soft and fragrant with resinous his head in the air and his soul in the clouds
gums, or over heathery downs, which rolled — was shot down before my very eyes at
away to north and to south, vast and un­ the bidding of that fat monk ! If you would,
tenanted, for on the uplands the soil was then I disown you as my father.”
poor and water scarce. Over Crooksbury “ Nay, Samkin, if it was like that, then per­
Common he passed, and then across the haps what you did was not so far amiss. But
great heath of Puttenham, following a it is hard to lose the old farm when my very
sandy path which wound amid the bracken heart is buried deep in the good brown soil.”
and the heather, for he meant to strike “ Tut, man, there are three years to run,
the Pilgrims’ Way where it turns east­ and what may not happen in three years ?
ward from Famham and from Seale. As Before that time I shall have gone to the
he rode he continually felt his saddle-bag wars, and when I have opened a French
with his hand, for in it, securely strapped, strong-box or two you can buy the good
he had placed the precious treasures of the brown soil and snap your fingers at Abbot
Lady Ermyntrude. As he saw the grand John and his bailiffs. Am I not as proper a
tawny neck tossing before him and felt the man as Tom Withstaff of Churt ? And yet
easy heave of the great horse and heard the he came back after six months with his
muffled drumming of his hoofs, he could have pockets full of rose-nobles and a French
sung and shouted with the joy of living. wench on either arm.”
Behind him, upon the little brown pony “ Heaven preserve us from the wenches,
which had been Nigel’s former mount, rode Samkin ; but indeed I think that if there is
Samkin Aylward, the bowman, who had money to be gathered you are as likely to
taken upon himself the duties of personal get your fist full as any man who goes to the
attendant and bodyguard. His great war. But hasten, lad, hasten ! Already your
shoulders and breadth of frame seemed young master is over the brow.”
dangerously top-heavy upon the tiny steed, Thus admonished, the archer waved his
but he ambled along, whistling a merry lilt, gauntleted hand to his father and, digging
and as light-hearted as his master. There his heels into the sides of his little pony, soon
was no countryman who had not a nod, and drew up with the squire. Nigel glanced over
no woman who had not a smile, for the jovial his shoulder and slackened speed until the
bowman, who rode for the most part with his pony’s head was up to his saddle.
face over his shoulder, staring at the last “ Have I not heard, archer,” said he, “ that
petticoat which had passed him. Once only an outlaw has been loose in these parts ? ”
 SIR N IG E L. 139

“ It is true, fair sir. He was villein to Sir the south and came out at St. Catherine’s
Peter Mandeville, but he broke his bonds Hill, where stands the pilgrim shrine, a grey
and fled into the forests. Men call him the old ruin now, but once so august, so crowded,
Wild Man of Puttenham.” and so affluent. It was this second branch
“ How comes it that he has not been upon which Nigel and Ay 1ward found them­
hunted down ? If the man be a drawlatch selves as they rode to Guildford. No one,
and a robber, it would be an honourable deed as it chanced, was going the same way as
to clear the country of such an evil.” themselves, but they met one large drove
“ Twice the sergeants-at-arms from Guild­ of pilgrims returning from their journey,
ford have come out against him, but the fox with pictures of St. Thomas and snails’
has many earths, and it would puzzle you to shells or little leaden ampullae in their hats
get him out of them.” and bundles of purchases over their shoulders.
“ By St. Paul, were my errand not a They were a grimy, ragged, travel-stained
pressing one I would be tempted to turn crew, the men walking, the women borne on
aside end seek him. Where lives he, then ? ” asses. Man and beast they limped along as
“ There is a great morass beyond Putten­ if it would be a glad day when they saw their
ham, and across it there are caves in which homes once more. These and a few beggars
he and his people lurk.” or minstrels, who crouched among the heather
“ His people ! He hath a band ? ;’ on either side of the track in the hope of
“ There are several with him.” receiving an occasional farthing from the
“ It sounds a most honourable enterprise,” passers-by, were the only folk they met until
said Nigel. “ When the King hath come they had reached the village of Puttenham.
and gone we will spare a
day for the outlaws of Put­
tenham. 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
Itchenuntil itreachedFarn-
ham, where it forked into
two branches, one of which
ran along the Hog’s Back,
while the second wound to “ M E T O N E L A R G E P R O V E OK P I L G R I M S R E T U R N I N G F RO M T H E I R J O U R N E Y ,
t h e y
 140 TH E STRAND M AG A ZIN E.

Already there was a hot sun, and just breeze Nigel sprang from his horse and tossed
enough to send the dust flying down the the rein to Aylward.
road, so they were glad to clear their throats “ Nay, let us go together. How many
with a glass of beer at the ale-stake in the robbers were there, lady ? ”
village, where the fair ale-wife gave Nigel a “ Two stout fellows.”
cold farewell because he had no attentions “ Then I come also.”
for her, and Aylward a box on the ear because “ Nay, it is not possible,” said Nigel.
he had too many. “ The wood is too thick for horses, and we
On the farther side of Puttenham the road cannot leave them in the road.”
runs through thick woods of oak and beech, “ I will guard them,” cried the lady.
with a tangled undergrowth of fern and “ Pommers is not so easily held. Do you
bramble. Here they met a patrol of sergeants- bide here, Aylward, until you hear from me.
of-arms, tall fellows, well-mounted, clad in Stir not, I command you ! ” So saying, Nigel,
studded-leather caps and tunics, with lances with the light of adventure gleaming in his
and swords. joyous eyes, drew his sword and plunged
They walked their horses slowly on the swiftly into the forest.
shady side of the road, and stopped as the Far and fast he ran from glade to glade,
travellers came up, to ask if they had been breaking through the bushes, springing over
molested on the way. the brambles, light as a young deer, peering
“ Have a care,” they added, “ for the Wild this way and that, straining his ears for a
Man and his wife are out. Only yesterday sound, and catching only the cry of the
they slew a merchant from the west and took wood-pigeons. Still on he went, with the
a hundred crowns.” constant thought of the weeping woman
“ His wife, you say ? ” behind and of the captured man in front.
“ Yes ; she is ever at his side, and has saved It was not until he was footsore and out of
him many a time, for if he has the strength breath that he stopped with his hand to his
it is she who has the wit. I hope to see side, and considered that his own business
their heads together upon the green grass one had still to be done, and that it was time
of these mornings.” once more that he should seek the road to
The patrol passed downwards towards Guildford.
Farnham, and so, as it proved, away from the
robbers, who had doubtless watched them Meantime Aylward had found his own
closely from the dense brushwood which rough means of consoling the woman in the
skirted the road. Coming round a curve road, who stood sobbing with her face against
Nigel and Aylward were aware of a tall and the side of Pommers’ saddle.
graceful woman who sat, wringing her hands “ Nay, weep not, my pretty one," said he.
and weeping bitterly, upon the bank by the “ It brings the tears to my own eyes to see
side of the track. At such a sight of beauty them stream from thine.”
in distress Nigel pricked Pommers with the “ Alas ! good archer, he was the best of
spur, and in three bounds was at the side of fathers, so gentle and so kind. Had you but
the unhappy lady. known him you must have loved him.”
“ What ails you, fair dame ? ” he asked. “ Tut, tu t; he will suffer no scathe. Squire
“ Is there any small matter in which I may Nigel will bring him back to you anon.”
stand your friend, or is it possible that “ No, no ; I shall never see him more.
anyone hath had so hard a heart as to do you Hold me, archer, or I fall ! ”
an injury ? ” Aylward pressed his ready arm round the
She rose and turned upon him a face full supple waist. The fainting woman leaned
of hope and entreaty. with her hand upon his shoulder. Her pale
“ Oh, save my poor, poor father! ” she face looked past him, and it was some new
cried. “ Have you, perchance, seen the way- light in her eyes—a flash of expectancy, of
wardens ? They passed us, and 1 fear they triumph, of wicked joy— which gave him
are beyond reach.” sudden warning of his danger. He shook
“ Yes ; they have ridden onwards, but we her off and sprang to one side, but only just
may serve as well.” in time to avoid a crashing blow from a great
“ Then hasten, hasten, I pray you ! Kven club in the hands of a man even taller and
now they may be doing him to death. They stronger than himself. He had one quick
have dragged him into yonder grove, and I vision of great white teeth clenched in grim
have heard his voice growing ever weaker in ferocity, a wild flying beard, and blazing
the distance. Hasten, I implore you ! ” wild-beast eyes. The next instant he had
 SIR N IG E L .

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, think­
ing that he, perhaps, had
been lured into some death­
trap, but his forebodings
were soon set at rest, for
Nigel himself came hasten­
ing down the road, which
he had struck some dis­
tance from the spot where
he left it.
“ By St. Paul 1 ” he cried,
“ who is this man on whom
you are perched, and
where is the lady who has
honoured 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
' I T NVAS S O M E N E W L I G H T IN H E R E Y E S — A F L A S H O F E X P E C T A N C Y , O F T R I U M P H , O F tried to brain me with his
W I C K E D J O Y — W H IC H G A V E HI M S U D D E N W A R N I N G OF H I S D A N G E R . ” club.”
The outlaw, who had
closed, ducking his head beneath another opened his eyes, looked with a scowl from
swing of that murderous cudgel. With his captor to the new-comer.
his arms round the robber’s burly body “ You are in luck, archer,” said he, “ for I
and his face buried in his bushy beard, have come to grips with many a man, but I
Aylward gasped and strained and heaved. cannot call to mind any who have had the
Back and forward in the dusty road the two better of me.”
men stamped and staggered, a grim wrestling- “ You have indeed the grip of a bear,”
match with life for the prize. Twice the said Aylward, “ but it was a coward deed
great strength of the outlaw had Aylward that your wife should hold me while you
nearly down, and twice with his greater youth dashed out my brains with a stick. It is
and skill the archer restored his grip and his also a most villainous thing to lay a snare for
balance. Then at last his turn came. He wayfarers by asking for their pity and
slipped his leg behind the other’s knee and, assistance, so that it was our own soft hearts
giving a mighty wrench, tore him across it. which brought us into such danger. The
With a hoarse shout the outlaw toppled back­ next who hath real need of our help may
wards, and had hardly reached the ground suffer for your sins.”
before Aylward had his knee upon his chest “ When the hand of the whole world is
and his short sword deep in his beard and against you,” said the outlaw, in a surly voice,
pointed to his throat. “ you must fight as you best can.”
“ By these ten finger-bones,” he gasped, “ You well deserve to be hanged, if only
“ one more struggle and it is your la st! ” because you have brought this woman, who
 142 THE ST R A N D M A G A Z IN E .

is fair and gentle spoken, to such a life,” said it was not this fellow who took it, since I
Nigel. “ Let us tie him by the wrist to my have never 4 iad my hands from him. It can
stirrup-leather, Aylward, and we will lead him only be the woman who fled with it while we
into Guildford.” fought.”
The archer drew a spare bow-string from Nigel stamped about the road in his
his case, and had bound the prisoner as perplexity.
directed when Nigel gave a sudden start and “ I would follow her to the world’s end if
cry of alarm. I knew where I could find her, but to search
“ Heaven help us ! ” he cried. “ Where is these woods for her is to look for a mouse in
the saddle-bag ? ” a wheat-field. Good St. George ! thou who
It had been cut away by a sharp knife. didst overcome the dragon, I pray you, by
Only the two ends of strap remained. that most honourable and knightly achieve­
ment, that you will be
with me now ; and you
also, great St. Julian,
patron of all wayfarers
in distress ! Two candles
shall burn before your
shrine at Godaiming 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.”
“ N a y ; I cannot do
that,” said Nigel. “ My
honour 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 St. Paul, it
would be an ungentle
deed if, in order to save
my own, I let you loose
upon the gear of a hun­
Aylward and Nigel dred others.”
stared at each other “ I will not ask that
in blank d ism ay. ‘ h ea ven ! ’
h elp u s .
h e ‘ W H E R E IS T H E
cried
you let me loose,” said
T h e n th e you n g SAD D LE-BAG ? ” the Wild Man. “ If you
sq u ire shook his will promise that my life
clenched hands and pulled at his yellow curls be spared I will restore your bag.”
in his despair. “ The Lady Ermyntrude’s “ I cannot give such a promise, for it
bracelet! My grandfather’s cup ! ” he cried. will lie with the sheriff and reeves of
“ I would have died ere I lost them. What Guildford.”
can I say to her? I dare not return until I “ Shall I have your word in my favour ? ”
have found them. Oh, Aylward, Aylward ! “ That I could promise you, if you will
how came you to let them be taken ? ” give back the bag, though I know not how
The honest archer had pushed back his far my word may avail. But your words are
steel cap and was scratching his tangled vain, for you cannot think that we will be so
head. fond as to let you go in the hope that you
“ Nay, I know nothing of it. You never return ? ”
said that there was aught of price in the bag, “ I would not ask it,” said the Wild Man,
else had I kept a better eye upon it. Certes, “ for I can get your bag and yet never stir
 S/E N IG EL. M3
from the spot where I stand. Have I your In an instant she had shorn through the
promise, upon your honour and all that you stirrup leather which bound her man, and
hold dear, that you will ask for grace ? ” he, diving under the belly of the horse, had
“ You have.” slipped like a snake into the brushwood. In
“ And that my wife shall be unharmed ? ” passing he had struck Pommers from beneath,
“ I promise it.” and the great horse, enraged and insulted,
The outlaw laid back his head and uttered was rearing high with two men hanging to his
a long, shrill cry like the howl of a wolf. bridle. When at last he had calmed there
There was a silent pause, and then, clear was no sign left of the Wild Man or of his
and shrill, there rose the same cry no great wife. In vain did Aylward, an arrow on his
distance away in the forest. Again the Wild string, run here and there among the great
Man called, and again his mate replied. A trees and peer down the shadowy glades.
third time he summoned, as the deer bells to When he returned he and his master cast a
the doe in the green wood. Then with a shamefaced glance at each other.
rustle of brushwood and snapping of twigs “ I trust that we are better soldiers than
the woman was before them once more— jailers,” said Aylward, as he climbed on to
tall, pale, graceful, wonderful. She glanced his pony.
neither at Aylward nor Nigel, but ran to the But Nigel’s frown relaxed into a smile.
side of her husband. “ At least we have gained back what we
“ Dear and sweet lord,” she cried, “ I trust lost,” said he. “ Here I place it on the
they have done you no hurt. I waited by pommel of my saddle, and I shall not take
the old ash, and my heart sank when you my eyes from it until we are safe in Guildford
came not.” town.”
“ I have been taken at last, wife.” So they jogged on together, until passing
“ Oh, cursed, cursed day ! Let him go, St. Catherine’s shrine they crossed the
kind, gentle sirs ; do not take him from me ! ” winding Wey once more, and so found them­
“ They will speak for me at Guildford,” selves in the steep High Street, with its heavy-
said the Wild Man. “ They have sworn it. eaved, gabled houses, its monkish hospitium
But hand them first the bag that you have upon the left, where good ale may still be
taken.” quaffed, and its great square-keeped Castle
She drew it out from under her loose upon the right, no grey and grim skeleton of
cloak. ruin, but very quick and alert, with blazoned
“ Here it is, gentle s ir ! Indeed, it went banner flying free and steel caps twinkling
to my heart to take it, for you had mercy from the battlement. A row of booths
upon me in my trouble. But now I am, as extended from the Castle gate to the High
you see, in real and very sore distress. Will Street, and two doors from the Church of the
you not have mercy now ? Take ruth on us, Trinity was that of Thorold the goldsmith, a
fair s ir ! On my knees I beg it of you, most rich burgess and mayor of the town. He
gentle and kindly squire.” looked long and lovingly.at the rich rubies and
Nigel had clutched his bag, and right at the fine work upon the goblet. Then he
glad he was to feel that the treasures were stroked his flowing grey beard as he pondered
all safe within it. whether he should offer fifty nobles or sixty,
“ My promise is given,” said he. “ I will for he knew well that he could sell them
say what I can, but the issue rests with again for two hundred. If he offered too
others. I pray you to stand up, for indeed much his profit would be reduced. If he
I cannot promise more.” offered too little the youth might go as far as
“ Then I must be content,” said she, London with them, for they were rare and
rising with a composed face. “ I have prayed of great worth. The young man was ill-clad
you to take ruth, and indeed I can do no and his eyes were anxious. Perchance he
more ; but ere I go back to the forest I was hard pressed and was ignorant of the
would rede you to be on your guard, lest you value of what he bore. He would sound
lose your bag once more. Wot you how I him.
took it, archer ? Nay, it was simple enough, “ These things are old and out of fashion,
and may happen again, so I make it clear to fair sir,” said he. “ Of the stones I can
you. I had this knife in my sleeve, and scarce say if they are of good quality or
though it is small it is very sharp. I slipped not, but they are dull and rough. Yet, if
it down like this. Then when I seemed to your price be low, I may add them to rtiy
weep with my face against the saddle, I cut stock, though indeed this booth was made to
down like this----- ” sell and not to buy. What do you ask ? ”
 144 TH E ST R A N D M A G A ZIN E .

“ I am concerned
by what you say,” said
he. “ You know more
of these things than I
can do. However, I
will take------”
“ A h u n d red and
fifty,” whispered Ayl-
ward’s voice in his ear.
“ A h u n d re d and
fifty,” said Nigel, only
too relieved to have
found the h u m b lest
guide upon these un­
wonted paths.
Thegoldsmith started.
This youth was not the
simple soldier that he
had seem ed . T h a t
frank face, those grey
eyes were traps for the
unwary. Never had he
been more taken aback
in a bargain.
“ This is fond talk
and can lead to no­
thing, fair sir,” said he,
was a game in tu rn in g aw ay and
which neither his bold heart nor his active fiddling with the keys of his strong-boxes.
limbs could help him. It was the new force “ Yet I have no wish to be hard with you.
mastering the old—the man of commerce Take my outside price, which is fifty nobles.”
conquering the man of war—wearing him “ And a hundred,” whispered Aylward.
down and weakening him through the “ And a hundred,” said Nigel, blushing at
centuries until he had him as his bond- his own greed.
servant and his thrall. “ Well, well, take a hundred,” cried the
“ I know not what to ask, good sir,” said merchant. “ Fleece me, skin me, leave me
Nigel. “ It is not for me, nor for any man a loser, and take for your wares the full
who bears my name, to chaffer and to haggle. hundred.”
You know the worth of these things, for it is “ I should be shamed for ever if I were to
your trade to do so. The Lady Ermyntrude treat you so badly,” said Nigel. “ You have
lacks money, and we must have it against the spoken me fair and I would not grind you
King’s coming, so give me that which is down. Therefore I will gladly take one
right and just, and we will say no more.” hundred----- ”
The goldsmith smiled. The business was “ And fifty,” whispered Aylward.
growing more simple and more profitable. “ And fifty,” said Nigel.
He had intended to offer fifty, but surely it “ By St. John of B everley!” cried the
would be sinful waste to give more than merchant. “ I came hither from the north
twenty-five ? country, and they are said to be shrewd at a
“ I shall scarce know what to do with them deal in those parts, but I had rather bargain
when I have them,” said he. “ Yet I should with a synagogue full of Jews than with you,
not grudge twenty nobles if it is a matter in for all your gentle ways. Will you, indeed,
which the King is concerned.” take no less than a hundred and fifty ?
Nigel’s heart turned to lead. This sum Alas ! you pluck from me my profits of a
would not buy one-half what was needful. It month. .I t is a fell morning’s work for me !
was clear that the Lady Ermyntrude had I would I had never seen you.” With groans
over-valued her treasures. Yet he could not and lamentations he paid the gold pieces
return empty handed, so if twenty nobles was across the counter, and Nigel, hardly able to
the real worth, as this good old man assured credit his own good fortune, gathered them
him, then he must be thankful and take it. into the leather saddle-bag. A moment
 SIR N IG EL. 145

later, with flushed face, he was in the edge before he laid it aside. We worked in
street and pouring out his thanks to Aylward. mail in those days, and I had as soon have
“ Alas ! my fair lord, the man has robbed a well-made, thick-meshed mail as any plates ;
us now,” said the archer. “ We could have but a young knight will be in the fashion
had another twenty had we stood fast.” like any dame of the Court, and so it must be
“ How know you that, good Aylward ? ” plate now, even though the price be trebled.”
“ By his eyes, Squire Loring. I wot I have “ Your rede is that the mail is as good ? ”
little store of reading where the parchment “ I am well sure of it.”
of a book or the pricking of a blazoned coat “ Hearken, then, armourer. I cannot at
is concerned, but I can read men’s eyes, and this moment buy a suit of plate, and yet I
I never doubted that
he would give what he
has given.”
The two travellers
had d in n er at the
m on ks’ h o sp itiu m ,
Nigel at the high table
and Aylward among
the commonalty. Then
again they roamed the
High Street on busi­
ness in ten t. N ig el
bought taffeta for hang­
ings, wine, preserves,
fruit, dam ask ta b le
linen, and many other
articles of need. At
last he halted before
the armourer’s shop at
the Castle Yard, star­
ing at the fine suits of
plate, the en g rav e d
pectorals, the plumed
helmets, the cunningly-
jointed gorgets, as a
child at a sweet-shop.
“ Well, Squire Lor­
ing,” said Wat the
armourer, looking side­
ways from the furnace
where he was temper­
ing 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 “ you m ig h t go from en d to en d of c h e a psid e an d n ev er s e e a b e t t e r s u it

than that which hangs T H A N T H A T W H IC H H A N G S F R O M Y O N D E R H O O K . "

from yonder hook.”

“ And the price, armourer?” asked Nigel. sorely need steel harness on account of a
“ To anyone else, two hundred and fifty small deed which it is in my mind to do.
rose-nobles. To you, two hundred.” Now, I have, at my home at Tilford, that
“ And why cheaper to me, good fellow ? ” very suit of mail of which you speak, with
“ Because I fitted your father also for the which my father first rode to the wars.
wars, and a finer suit never went out .of my Could you not so alter it that it should
shop. I warrant that it turned many an guard my limbs a ls o ? ”
Vol. xxxi.—19.
 14^' TH E STR A N D M AGAZINE.

The armourer looked at Nigel’s small, I will ride with you to Tilford, and before
upright figure and burst out laughing. night you shall see what Wat can do.”
“ You jest, Squire Loring ! The suit was So it came about that there was a busy
made for one who was far above the common evening at the old Tilford manor-house,
stature of man.” where the Lady Ermyntrude planned and cut
“ Nay, I jest not. If it will but carry me and hung the curtains for the hall, and
through one spear-running it will have served stocked her cupboards with the good things
its purpose.” which Nigel had brought from Guildford.
The armourer leaned back on his anvil and Meanwhile the squire and the armourer sat
pondered, while Nigel stared anxiously at his with their heads touching, and the old suit
sooty face. of mail, with its gorget of overlapping plates,
“ Right gladly would I lend you a suit of laid out across their knees. Again and again
plate for this one venture, Squire Loring, but old Wat shrugged his shoulders, as one who
I know well that if you should be over­ has been asked to do more than can be
thrown your harness becomes prize to the demanded from mortal man. At last, at a
victor. I am a poor man with many children, suggestion from the squire, he leaned back
and I dare not risk the loss of it. But as to in his chair and laughed long and loudly in
what you say of the old suit of mail, is it, his bushy beard, while the I^ady Ermyn­
indeed, in good condition ? ” trude glared her black displeasure at such
“ Most excellent, save only at the neck, plebeian merriment. Then, taking his fine
which is much frayed.” chisel and his hammer from his pouch
“ To shorten the limbs is easy. It is but of tools, the armourer, still chuckling at
to cut out a length of the mail and then loop his own thoughts, began to drive a hole
up the links But to shorten the body—nay, through the centre of the steel tunic.
that is beyond the armourer’s art.”
“ It was my last hope. Nay, good
armourer, if you have indeed served
and loved my gallant
father, then I beg you by
his memory that you will
help me now.”
The armourer 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 tilt - yard. Last
Martinmas my heart bled
for you when I saw how
sorry was your harness, and
yet you held your own
against thestoutSirOliver,
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
“ t h e a r m o u r e r , s t i l l c h u c k l in g a t h is o w n t h o u g h t s ,
day I give to you without fee and for the sake B E G A N TO D R I V E A H O L E T H R O U G H T H E C E N T R E OP T H E
of the goodwill which I bear to your house. S T E E L TU N IC.”

( To be continued.)
“ H A D W ID D IC O M B E BEEN STRU C K BV A T H U N D E R B O L T HE C O U LD NOT HAVE
FLOW N F ASTER OR F A R T H E R FROM H IS S A D D L E .”

(Scf page 251 . )

 T he St r a n d M agazine.
Vol. xxxi. MARCH, 1906. N o. 183

SIR NIGE1L.
B y A . C O N A N D O Y L E .

C H A P T E R V III. complexion was tanned to copper by a life

HOW T H E K IN G H AW KED ON C RO O K SBU R Y spent in field sports or in war, and he rode
H EATH . his magnificent black horse carelessly and
H E K IN G and his attendants easily, as one who has grown up in the saddle.
had shaken off the crowd who His own colour was black also, for his active,
had followed them from Guild­ sinewy figure was set off by close-fitting
ford along the Pilgrims’ Way, velvet of that hue, broken only by a belt of
and now, the mounted archers gold and by a golden border of open pods
having beaten off the more of the broom plant. With his high and noble
persistent of the spectators, they rode at their bearing, his simple yet rich attire, and his splen­
ease in a long, straggling, glittering train over did mount, he
the dark, undulating plain of heather. looked every
In the van was the King himself, for his inch a king.
hawks were with him, and he had some hope The picture of
of sport. Edward, at that time, was a well- gallant man on
grown, vigorous man in the very prime of his gallant horse
years, a keen sportsman, an ardent, gallant, was completed
and a chivalrous soldier. He was a scholar too, by the noble
speaking Latin, French, German, Spanish, and Falcon of the
even a little English. So much had long been Is le s , w hich
patent to the world, but only of recent years fluttered along
had he shown other and
more formidable character­
istics—a restless ambition
which coveted his neigh­
bour’s throne, and a wise
foresight in matters of
commerce, which engaged
him now in transplanting
Flemish weavers, and sow­
ing the seeds of what
for many years was the
staple trade of England.
E ach o f th ese v arie d
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
moustache did not conceal
the strong mouth, firm,
proud, and kindly, but
capable of setting tight in
merciless ferocity. His
\ol. xxxi. 31 Copyright, 1906, by A. Conan Doyle, in the United States of America,
 SIR N IG EL. 249

“ It is good John Chandos ! ” cried the face of Chandos, which shone with amuse­
King. “ By the rood, John, I have missed ment.
your merry songs this week or more. Glad “ What is this, Jo h n ? ” he asked.
I am to see that you have your citole slung “ You remember Sir Eustace Loring, sire?”
to your back. Whence come you, then ? ” “ Indeed I could never forget him nor the
“ I came from Tilford, sire, in the hope manner of his death.”
that I should meet your Majesty.” “ He was a knight-errant in his day.”
“ It was well thought of. Come, ride here, “ That indeed he was—none better have I
between the Prince and me, and we will known.”
believe that we are back in France with our “ So is his son Nigel, as fierce a young
war harness on our backs once more. What war-hawk as ever yearned to use beak and
is your news, Master John ? ” claws, but held fast in the mews up to now.
Chandos’s quaint face quivered with sup­ This is his trial flight. There he stands at
pressed amusement and his one eye twinkled the bridge-head, as was the wont in our
like a star. fathers’ time, ready to measure himself
“ Have you had sport, my liege ? ” against all comers.”
“ Poor sport, John. We flew two hawks Of all Englishmen there was no greater
on the same heron. They crabbed, and the knight-errant than the King himself, and
bird got free. But why do you smile so ? ” none so steeped in every quaint usage of
“ Because I hope to show you better sport chivalry, so that the situation was after his
ere you come to Tilford.” own heart.
“ For the hawk ? For the hound ? ” “ He is not yet a Knight ? ”
“ A nobler sport than either.” “ No, sire ; only a squire.”
“ Is this a riddle, John? What mean you?” “ Then he must bear himself bravely this
“ Nay, to tell all would be to spoil all. I day if he is to make good what he has done.
say again that there is rare sport betwixt here Is it fitting that a young, untried squire
and Tilford, and I beg you, dear lord, to should venture to couch his lance against
mend your pace, that we make the most of the the best in England ? ”
daylight.” “ He hath given me his cartel and chal­
Thus adjured the King set spurs to his lenge,” said Chandos, drawing a paper from
horse, and the whole cavalcade cantered over his tunic. “ Have I your permission, sire, to
the heath in the direction which Chandos issue it ? ”
showed. Presently, as they came over a slope, “ Surely, John, we have no cavalier more
they saw beneath them a winding river with versed in the laws of chivalry than yourself?
an old high-backed bridge across it. On the You know this young man, and you are
farther side was a village green with a fringe aware how far he is worthy of the high
of cottages and one dark manor-house upon honour which he asks. Let us hear his
the side of the hill. defiance! ”
“ This is Tilford,” said Chandos. “ Yonder The knights and squires of the escort,
is the house of the Lorings.” most of whom were veterans of the French
The King's expectations had been aroused war, had been gazing with interest and some
and his face showed his disappointment. surprise at the steel-clad figure in front of
“ Is this the sport that you have promised them. Now, at a call from Sir Walter
us, Sir John ? How can you make good Manny, they assembled round the spot
your words ? ” where the King and Chandos had halted.
“ I will make them good, my liege.” Chandos cleared his throat and read from
“ Where, then, is the sport ? ” his paper: —
On the high crown of the bridge a rider “ ‘ A tous seigneurs, chevaliers, et escuyers,’
in armour was seated, lance in hand, upon a so it is headed, gentlemen. It is a message
great yellow steed. Chandos touched the from the good Squire Nigel Loring of T il­
King’s arm and pointed. ford, son of Sir Eustace Loring of honour­
“ That is the sport,” said he. able memory. Squire Loring awaits you in
arms, gentlemen, yonder upon the crown of
C H A P T E R IX. the old bridge. Thus says he : ‘ For the
HOW N IG E L H E LD T H E B R ID G E AT great desire that I, a most humble and un­
T ILFO R D . worthy squire, entertain, that I may come to
T h e K in g lo o k e d at th e m o tio n le ss figure, the knowledge of the noble gentlemen who
at th e little c r o w d o f h u sh ed , ex p ecta n t ride with my Royal master, I now wait on
rustics b e y o n d th e brid g e, a n d finally at the the bridge of the Wey, in the hope that
Vol. xxxL—32.
 S IR N IG E I.. 245

surprises, and ambushes upon either side, “ She is indeed, sire. Surely no finer ever
and it was certain that it would soon dissolve came from the Isles of the North.”
again into open war. Money must be raised, “ Perhaps not, and yet I have had a hawk
and it was no light matter to raise it now that from Barbary as good a footer and a swifter
the Commons had once already voted the flyer. An Eastern bird in yarak has no
tenth lamb and the tenth sheaf. Besides, peer.”
the Black Death had ruined the country, the “ I had one once from the Holy I>and,”
arable land was all turned to pasture, the said Manny. “ It was fierce and keen and
labourer, laughing at statutes, would not swift as the Saracens themselves. They
work under fourpence a day, and all society say of old Saladin that in his day his breed
was chaos. In addition the Scotch were both of birds, of hounds, and of horses had
growling over the border, there was the no equal on earth.”
perennial trouble in half - conquered Ire­ “ I trust, dear father, that the day may
land, and his allies abroad in Flanders and come when we shall lay our hands on all
in Brabant were clamouring for the arrears three,” shd the Prince, looking with shining
of their subsidies. All this was enough to eyes upon the King. “ Is the Holy Land to
make even a victorious monarch full of care. lie for ever in the grasp of these unbelieving
But now Edward had thrown it all to the savages, or the Holy Temple to be defiled bv
winds, and was as light-hearted as a boy their foul presence ? Ah ! my dear and most
upon a holiday. No thought had he for sweet lord, give to me a thousand lances with
the dunning of Florentine bankers or the ten thousand bowmen like those I led at
vexatious conditions of those busybodies at Cr^cy, and I swear to you, by God’s soul,
Westminster. He was out with his hawks, that within a year I will have done homage
and his thoughts and his talk should be of to you for the Kingdom of Jerusalem.”
nothing else. The varlets beat the heather The King laughed as he turned to Walter
and bushes as they passed and whooped Manny.
loudly as the birds flew out. “ Boys will still be boys,” said he.
“ A magpie ! A magpie! ” cried the “ The French do not count me su c h !”
falconer. cried the young Prince, flushing with anger.
“ Nay, nay, it is not worthy of your talons, “ Nay, fair son, there is no one sets you at
my brown-eyed queen,” said the King, look­ a higher rate than your father. But you have
ing up at the great bird which flapped from the nimble mind and quick fancy of youth,
side to side above his head, waiting for the turning ever from the thing that is half done
whistle which should give her the signal. to a farther task beyond. How would we
“ The tiercels, falconer—a cast of tiercels ! fare in Brittany and Normandy whilst my
Quick, man, quick ! Ha ! the rascal makes young Paladin with his lances and his bow­
for wood ! He puts in ! Well flown, brave men was besieging Ascalon or battering at
peregrine! He makes his point. Drive Jerusalem ? ”
him out to thy comrade. Serve him, “ Heaven would help in Heaven’s work.”
varlets ! Beat the bushes! Fie breaks! “ F'rom what I have heard of the past,”
He breaks ! Nay, come away, then ! You said the King, dryly, “ I cannot see that
will see Master Magpie no more.” Heaven has counted for much as an ally
The bird had, indeed, with the cunning of in these wars of the East. I speak with
his race, flapped its way through brushwood reverence, and yet it is but sooth to say that
and bushes to the thicker woods beyond, so Richard of the Lion Heart or Louis of
that neither the hawk amid the cover, nor its France might have found the smallest earthly
partner above, nor the clamorous beaters principality of greater service to him than all
could harm it. The King laughed at the the celestial hosts. How say you to that,
mischance and rode on. Continually birds my Lord Bishop ? ”
of various sorts were flushed, and each was A stout Churchman, who had ridden be­
pursued by the appropriate hawk— the snipe hind the King on a solid bay cob well suited
by the tiercel, the partridge by the goshawk, to his weight and dignity, jogged up to the
even the lark by the little merlin. But the monarch’s elbow.
King soon tired of this petty sport, and went “ Flow say you, sire ? I was watching the
slowly on his way, still with the magnificent goshawk on the partridge and heard you
silent attendant flapping above his head. not.”
“ Is she not a noble bird, fair son ? ” he “ Had I said that I would add two manors
asked, glancing up as her shadow fell upon to the See of Chichester I warrant that you
him. would have heard me, my Lord Bishop.”
 246 TH E STRAND M AG AZIN E.

F-

“ 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 “ bird s OF VARIOUS SOR TS w er e flu sh e d, and each w as

the military orders, which were formed only PU RSUED BY T H E APPROPRIATE H A W K ."

for that one purpose, can scarce hold a foot­

ing in the islands of the Greek sea. There might be urged, most gracious sire. It is
is not one seaport nor one fortress in Palestine true that the Crusades were a holy enter
over which the flag of the Cross still waves. prise, which might well expect the immediate
Where, then, was our A lly ? ” blessing of God ; but the Crusaders— is it
“ Nay, sire, you open a great debate which certain that they deserved such a blessing ?
extends far beyond this question of the Holy Have I not heard that their camp was the
Land, though that may indeed be chosen most dissolute ever seen ? ”
as a fair example. It is the question of all “ Camps are camps all the world over, and
sin, of all suffering, of all injustice—why it you cannot in a moment change a bowman
should pass without the rain of fire and the into a saint. But the Holy Louis was a
lightnings of Sinai. The wisdom of God is Crusader after your own heart. Yet his men
beyond our understanding.” perished at Mansourah and he himself at
The King shrugged his shoulders. Tunis."
“ This is an easy answer, my Lord Bishop. “ Bethink you also that this world is but
You are a Prince of the Church. It would the ante chamber of the next,” said the
fare ill with an earthly prince who could give prelate. “ Bv suffering and tribulation the
no better answers to the affairs which con soul is cleansed, and the true victor may be
cerned his realm.” he who, by the patient endurance of misfor­
“ There are other considerations which tune, merits the happiness to come.”
 S/R NIG EL. 247

“ If that be the true meaning of the follow. Then, spying the heron, she shot up
Church’s blessing, then I hope that it will be in a swift ascending curve to meet him.
long before it rests upon our banners in “ Well flown, Margot ! Good bird ! ” cried
France,” said the King. “ But methinks the King, clapping his hands to encourage
that when one is out with a brave horse and the hawk, while the falconers broke into the
a good hound one might find some other shrill whoops peculiar to the sport.
subject than theology. Back to the birds, Going on her curve the hawk would soon
Bishop, or Raoul the falconer will come to have crossed the path of the heron, but the
interrupt thee in thy cathedral.” latter, seeing the danger in his front and con­
Straightway the conversation came back fident in his own great strength of wing and
to the mystery of the woods and the mystery lightness of body, proceeded to mount higher
of the rivers, to the dark-eyed hawks and in the air, flying in such small rings that to
the yellow-eyed, to hawks of the lure and the spectators it almost seemed as if the bird
hawks of the fist. The Bishop was as steeped were going perpendicularly upwards.
in the lore of falconry as the King, and the “ He takes the air ! ” cried the King,
others smiled as the two wrangled hard over “ But strong as he flies he cannot outfiy
disputed and technical questions— if an eyas Margot. Bishop, I lay you ten gold pieces to
trained in the mews can ever emulate the one that the heron is mine.”
passage-hawk taken wild, or how long the “ I cover your wager, sire,” said the Bishop.
young hawks should be placed at hack, and “ I may not take gold so won, and yet I
how long weathered before they are fully warrant that there is an altar-cloth somewhere
reclaimed. in need of repairs.”
Monarch and prelate were still deep in “ You have good store of altar-cloths,
this learned discussion, the Bishop speaking Bishop, if all the gold 1 have seen you win at
with 'a freedom and assurance which he would tables goes to the mending of them,” said the
never have dared to use in affairs of Church King. “ Ah, by the rood, rascal, rascal !
and State, for in all ages there is no such See how she flies at check ! ”
leveller as sport. Suddenly, however, the The quick eyes of the Bishop had per­
Prince, whose keen eyes had swept from time ceived a drift of rooks which, on their even­
to time over the great blue heaven, uttered ing flight to the rookery, were passing along
a peculiar call and reined up his palfrey, the very line which divided the hawk from
pointing at the same time into the air. the herbn. A rook is a hard temptation
“ A heron ! ” he cried. “ A heron on for a hawk to resist. In an instant the
passage! ” inconstant bird had forgotten all about the
To gain the full sport of hawking a heron great heron above her, and was circling over
must not be put up from its feeding-ground, the rooks, flying westwards with them as
where it is heavy with its meal, and has no she singled out the plumpest for her stoop.
time to get its pace on before it is pounced “ There is yet time, sire ! Shall I cast off
upon by the more active hawk, but it must be her mate ? ” cried the falconer.
aloft, travelling from point to point, probably “ Or shall I show you, sire, how a pere­
from the fish-stream to the heronry. Thus grine may win where a gerfalcon fails ? ” said
to catch the bird on passage was the prelude the Bishop. “ Ten golden pieces to one
of all good sport. The object to which the upon my bird.”
Prince had pointed was but a black dot in “ Done with you, Bishop ! ” cried the King,
the southern sky, but his trained eyes had his brow dark with vexation. “ By the rood,
not deceived him, and both Bishop and if you were as learned in the fathers as you
King agreed that it was indeed a heron, are in hawks you would win to the throne of
which grew larger every instant as it flew in St. Peter! Cast off your peregrine and
their direction. make your boasting good.”
“ Whistle him off, sire ! Whistle off the Smaller than the Royal gerfalcon, the
gerfalcon ! ” cried the Bishop. Bishop’s bird was none the less a swift and
“ Nay, nay ; he is over far. She would fly beautiful creature. From her perch upon
at check.” his wrist she had watched with fierce, keen
“ Now, sire, now ! ” cried the Prince, as the eyes the birds in the heaven, mantling herself
great bird, with the breeze behind him, came from time to time in her eagerness. Now,
sweeping down the sky. when the button was undone and the leash
The King gave a shrill whistle, and the uncast, the peregrine dashed off with a whirr
well trained hawk raked out to right and to of her sharp-pointed wings, whizzing round
left to make sure which quarry she was to in a great ascending circle which mounted
 248 TH E ST R A N D M AG A ZIN E.

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, be­
thought 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 upwards until
she was over the heron. But
what was this ? Every fibre
of her, from her crest to her
deck feathers, quivered with
jealousy and rage at the sight
of this creature, a mere pere­
grine, who had dared to conic
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
'* S P Y I N G T H E H E R O N , S H E SH O T UP IN A S W I F T A S C E N D I N G C U R V E TO M E E T H I M . " instant------
“ They crab ! They crab ! ”
swiftly upwards, growing ever smaller and cried the King, with a roar of laughter, follow­
smaller as she approached that lofty point ing them with his eyes as they hurtled down
where, a mere speck in the sky, the heron through the air. “ Mend thy own altar-cloths,
sought escape from its enemies. Still higher Bishop. Notagroat shall you have from me this
and higher the two . birds mounted, while the journey. Pull them apart, falconer, lest they
horsemen, their faces upturned, strained do each other an injury. And now, masters,
their eyes in their efforts to follow them. let us on, for the sun sinks towards the west.”
“ She rings ! She still rings ! ” cried the The two hawks, which had come to the
Bishop). “ She is above him ! She has ground interlocked with clutching talons and
gained her pitch ! ” ruffled plumes, were torn apart and brought
“ Nay, n a y ; she is far below,” said the back, bleeding and panting, to their perches,
King while the heron, after its perilous adventure,
“ By my soul, my Lord Bishop is right! ” winged its way heavily onwards to settle
cried the Prince. “ 1 believe she is above. safely in the heronry of Waverley. The
See ! See ! She swoops ! ” cortege, who had scattered in the excitement
“ She binds ! She binds ! ” cried a dozen of the chase, had come together again, and
voices, as the two dots blended suddenly the journey was once more resumed.
into one. A horseman who had been riding towards
There could be no doubt that they were them across the moor now quickened his pace
falling rapidly. Already they grew larger to and closed swiftly upon them. As he came
the eye. Presently the heron disengaged nearer, the King and the Prince cried out
himself and flapped heavily away, the worse joyously and waved their hands in greeting
 SIR N IG EL. 249

“ It is good John Chandos ! ” cried the face of Chandos, which shone with amuse­
King. “ By the rood, John, I have missed ment.
your merry songs this week or more. Glad “ What is this, Jo h n ? ” he asked.
I am to see that you have your citole slung “ You remember Sir Eustace Loring, sire?”
to your back. Whence come you, then ? ” “ Indeed I could never forget him nor the
“ I came from Tilford, sire, in the hope manner of his death.”
that I should meet your Majesty.” “ He was a knight-errant in his day.”
“ It was well thought of. Come, ride here, “ That indeed he was—none better have I
between the Prince and me, and we will known.”
believe that we are back in France with our “ So is his son Nigel, as fierce a young
war harness on our backs once more. What war-hawk as ever yearned to use beak and
is your news, Master John ? ” claws, but held fast in the mews up to now.
Chandos’s quaint face quivered with sup­ This is his trial flight. There he stands at
pressed amusement and his one eye twinkled the bridge-head, as was the wont in our
like a star. fathers’ time, ready to measure himself
“ Have you had sport, my liege ? ” against all comers.”
“ Poor sport, John. We flew two hawks Of all Englishmen there was no greater
on the same heron. They crabbed, and the knight-errant than the King himself, and
bird got free. But why do you smile so ? ” none so steeped in every quaint usage of
“ Because I hope to show you better sport chivalry, so that the situation was after his
ere you come to Tilford.” own heart.
“ For the hawk ? For the hound ? ” “ He is not yet a Knight ? ”
“ A nobler sport than either.” “ No, sire ; only a squire.”
“ Is this a riddle, John? What mean you?” “ Then he must bear himself bravely this
“ Nay, to tell all would be to spoil all. I day if he is to make good what he has done.
say again that there is rare sport betwixt here Is it fitting that a young, untried squire
and Tilford, and I beg you, dear lord, to should venture to couch his lance against
mend your pace, that we make the most of the the best in England ? ”
daylight.” “ He hath given me his cartel and chal­
Thus adjured the King set spurs to his lenge,” said Chandos, drawing a paper from
horse, and the whole cavalcade cantered over his tunic. “ Have I your permission, sire, to
the heath in the direction which Chandos issue it ? ”
showed. Presently, as they came over a slope, “ Surely, John, we have no cavalier more
they saw beneath them a winding river with versed in the laws of chivalry than yourself?
an old high-backed bridge across it. On the You know this young man, and you are
farther side was a village green with a fringe aware how far he is worthy of the high
of cottages and one dark manor-house upon honour which he asks. Let us hear his
the side of the hill. defiance! ”
“ This is Tilford,” said Chandos. “ Yonder The knights and squires of the escort,
is the house of the Lorings.” most of whom were veterans of the French
The King's expectations had been aroused war, had been gazing with interest and some
and his face showed his disappointment. surprise at the steel-clad figure in front of
“ Is this the sport that you have promised them. Now, at a call from Sir Walter
us, Sir John ? How can you make good Manny, they assembled round the spot
your words ? ” where the King and Chandos had halted.
“ I will make them good, my liege.” Chandos cleared his throat and read from
“ Where, then, is the sport ? ” his paper: —
On the high crown of the bridge a rider “ ‘ A tous seigneurs, chevaliers, et escuyers,’
in armour was seated, lance in hand, upon a so it is headed, gentlemen. It is a message
great yellow steed. Chandos touched the from the good Squire Nigel Loring of T il­
King’s arm and pointed. ford, son of Sir Eustace Loring of honour­
“ That is the sport,” said he. able memory. Squire Loring awaits you in
arms, gentlemen, yonder upon the crown of
C H A P T E R IX. the old bridge. Thus says he : ‘ For the
HOW N IG E L H E LD T H E B R ID G E AT great desire that I, a most humble and un­
T ILFO R D . worthy squire, entertain, that I may come to
T h e K in g lo o k e d at th e m o tio n le ss figure, the knowledge of the noble gentlemen who
at th e little c r o w d o f h u sh ed , ex p ecta n t ride with my Royal master, I now wait on
rustics b e y o n d th e brid g e, a n d finally at the the bridge of the Wey, in the hope that
Vol. xxxL—32.
 25° 7H E ST R A N D M AG A ZIN E.

L e a d in g them asid e ,
Chandos whispered some
explanations, which ended
by them all three bursting
into a shout of laughter.
“ By the rood! no honour­
able gentleman should be
reduced to such straits,” said
the King. “ It behoves me
to look to it. But how now,
gentlemen ? This worthy
c a v a lie r still w aits his
answer.”
'Phe soldiers had all been
buzzing together, but now
Walter Manny turned to the
King with the result of their
council.
“ If it please your Majesty,”
said he, “ we are of
opinion that this squire
' hath exceeded all bounds
in desiring to break a
spear withabelted knight
ere he has given his
proofs. We do him suffi­
cient honour if a squire
ride against him, and
with your consent I have
chosen my own body-
sq u ire, Jo h n W iddi-
combe, to clear the path
for us across the bridge.”
“ t h e r e h e sta n d s a t t h e b r i d g e -h e a d , a s w as th e w ont in our ’ ."
k a th er s 1 1 What you say, \\ al­
t im e

ter, is right and fair,”

some of them may condescend to do some said the King. “ Master Chandos, you will
small deed of arms upon me, or that I may tell our champion yonder what hath been
deliver them from any vow which they may arranged. You will advise him also that it is
have taken. This I say out of no esteem for our Royal will that this contest be not fought
myself, but solely that I may witness the upon the bridge, since it is very clear that it
noble bearing of these famous cavaliers and must end in one or both going over into the
admire their skill in the handling of arms. river, but that he advance to the end of the
Therefore, with the help of St. George, I will bridge and fight upon the plain. You will
hold the bridge with sharpened lances against tell him also that a blunted lance is sufficient
any or all who may deign to present them­ for such an encounter, but that a hand-stroke
selves while daylight lasts ’ ” or two with sword or mace may well be
“ What sa>' you to this, gentlemen?” asked exchanged if both riders should keep their
the King, looking round with laughing eyes. saddles. A blast upon Raoul’s horn shall be
“ Truly it is issued in very good form,’' the signal to close.”
said the Prince. *' Neither Claricieux, nor Such ventures as these, where an aspirant
Red Dragon, nor any herald that ever wore for fame would wait for days at a cross­
tabard could better it. ■ Did he draw it of road, a ford, or a bridge, until some worthy
his own h and ? ’ antagonist should ride that way, were very
“ He hath a grim old grandmother who is common in the old days of adventurous
one of the ancient breed,” said Chandos. knight-errantry, and were still familiar to the
“ I doubt not that the Dame Ermyntrude minds of all men, because the stories of the
hath drawn a challenge or two before now. Romancers and the songs of the trouveurs
But hark ye, sire ; I would have a word in were full of such incidents. Their actual
your ear, and yours too, most noble Prince.” occurrence, however, had become rare. There
 SIR A IG E L . 25 1

was the more curiosity, not unmixed with digious fall. Then, smiling once more as
amusement, in the thoughts of the courtiers Widdicombe staggered to his feet, he clapped
as they watched Chandos ride down to the his hands loudly in applause.
bridge, and commented upon the somewhat “ A fair course and fairly run,” he cried.
singular figure of the challenger. His build “ The five scarlet roses bear themselves in
was strange and so also was his figure, for peace even as I have seen them in war.
the limbs were short for so tall a man. His How now, my good Walter? Have you
head also was sunk forward, as if he were lost another squire, or will you clear a path for
in thought or overcome with deep dejection. us yourself ? ”
“ This is surely the Cavalier of the Heavy Manny’s choleric face had turned darker as
Heart,” said Manny. “ What trouble has he he observed the mischance of his representa­
that he should hang his head ? ” tive. He beckoned now to a tall knight,
“ Perchance he hath a weak neck,” said whose gaunt and savage face looked out from
the King. his open bassinet as an eagle might from a
“ At least he hath no weak voice,” the cage of steel.
Prince remarked, as Nigel’s answer to “ Sir Hubert,” said he, “ I bear in mind the
Chandos came to their ears. “ By our I^ady, day when you overbore the Frenchmen at
he booms like a bittern.” Caen. Will you not be our champion now ? ”
As Chandos rode back again to the King, “ When I fought the Frenchmen, Walter, it
N igel exchanged the old ash spear which had was with naked weapons,” said the knight,
been his father’s for one of the blunted sternly. “ la m a soldier and I love a soldier’s
tournament lances which he took from the work, but I care not for these tilt-yard tricks,
hands of a stout archer in attendance He which were invented for nothing but to tickle
then rode down to the end of the bridge, the fancies of foolish women.”
where a hundred-yard stretch of green sward “ Oh, most’ ungallant speech ! ” cried the
lay in front of him. At the same moment King. “ Had my good consort heard you
the squire of Sir Walter Manny, who had she would have arraigned you to appear at a
been hastily armed bv his comrades, spurred Court of Love with a jury of virgins to
forward and took up his position. The King answer for your sins. But I pray you to take
raised his hand, there was a clang from the a tilting-spear, good Sir Hubert ! ”
falconer’s horn, and the two riders, with a “ I had as soon take a peacock’s feather,
thrust of their heels and a shake of their my fair lord, but I will do it, if you ask me.
bridles, dashed furiously at each other. In Here, page, hand me one of those sticks,
the centre the green strip of marshy meadow- and let me see what I can do.”
land, with the water squirting from the gallop­ But Sir Hubert de Burgh was not destined
ing hoofs, and the two crouching men, gleam to test either his skill or his luck. The
ing bright in the evening sun ; on one side great bay horse which he rode was as unused
the half circle of motionless horsemen, some to this warlike play as was his master, and
in steel, some in velvet, silent and attentive, had none of its master’s stoutness of heart,
dogs, hawks, and hones all turned to stone ; so that when it saw the levelled lance, the
on the other the old peaked bridge, the blue gleaming figure, and the frenzied yellow
lazy river, the group of open-mouthed rustics, horse rushing down upon it, it swerved,
and the dark old manor-house, with one turned, and galloped furiously down the river-
grim face which peered from the upper bank. Amid roars of laughter from the
window. rustics on the one side and from the
A good man was John Widdicombe, but courtiers on the other, Sir Hubert was seen
he had met a better that day. Before that tugging vainly at his bridle and bounding
yellow whirlwind of a horse, and that ridei onwards, clearing gorse bushes and heather
who was welded and riveted to his saddle, clumps, until he was but a shimmering,
his knees could not hold their grip. Nigel quivering gleam upon the dark hillside.
and Pommers were one flying missile, with Nigel, who had pulled Pommers on to his
all their weight and strength and energy very haunches at the instant that his oppo­
centred on tfje steady end of the lance. nent turned, saluted with his lance and
Had Widdicombe been struck by a thunder­ trotted back to the bridge-head, where he
bolt he could not have flown faster or farther awaited his next assailant.
from his saddle. Two full somersaults did “ The ladies would say that a judgment
he make, his plates clanging like cymbals, hath fallen upon our good Sir Hubert for
ere he lay flat upon his back. For a his impious words,” said the King.
moment the King looked grave at that pro­ “ Let us hope that his charger may be
 252 TH E STR A N D M AG A ZIN E.

broken in ere he venture to ride out between near, and yet in your wildest dreams you
two armies,” remarked the Prince “ They would never guess how strange your downfall
might mistake the hardness of his horse’s is to be.
mouth for a softness of the rider’s heart. Again with a dull thunder of hoofs the
See where he rides, still clearing every bush horses gallop over the soft water-meadow.
upon his path.” Again with a clash of m-tal the two riders
“ By the rood ! ” said the King, “ if the meet. It is Nigel now, taken clean in the
bold Hubert has not increased his repute as face of his helmet with the blunted spear,
a jouster, he has gained great honour as a who flies backwards off his horse and falls
horseman. But the bridge is still closed, clanging on the grass.
Walter. How say you now ? Is this young But, good heavens ! what is this ? Manny
squire never to be unhorsed, or is your King has thrown up his hands in horror, and the
himself to lay lance in rest ere his way ('an lance has dropped from his nerveless fingers.
be cleared ? By the head of St. Thomas 1 From all sides, with cries of dismay, with
I am in the very mood to run a course with oaths and shouts and ejaculations to the
this gentle youth.” saints, the horsemen ride wildly in. Was
“ Nay, nay, sire; too much honour hath ever so dreadful, so sudden, so complete an
already been done him,” said Manny, looking end to a gentle passage at arms ? Surely
angrily at the motionless horseman. “ That their eyes must be at fault ! Some wizard’s
this untried boy should be able to say that trick has been played upon them to deceive
in one evening he has unhorsed my squire their senses ! But, no ; it was only too clear.
and seen the back of one of the bravest There on the greensward lay the trunk of
knights in England is surely enough to turn the stricken cavalier, and there—a good
his foolish head. Fetch me a spear, Robert! dozen yards beyond—lay his helmeted head.
I will see what I can make of him.” “ By the Virgin ! ” cried Manny, wildly, as
The famous knight took the spear when it he jumped from his horse. “ I would give
was brought to him as a master workman my last gold piece that the work of this even­
takes his tool. He balanced it, shook it ing should be undone. How came it? What
once or twice in the air, ran his eyes down does it mean ? Hither, my Lord Bishop, for
it for a flaw in the wood, and then finally, surely it smacks of witchcraft and the devil.”
having made sure of its poise and weight, With a white face the Bishop had sprung
laid it carefully in rest under his arm. Then down beside the prostrate body, pushing
gathering up his bridle so through the knot of horrified knights
as to have his horse under and squires.
perfect command, and “ I fear that the last offices of Holy
covering himself with the Church come too late,” said he, in a
shield which was braced quivering voice. “ Unfortunate young
upon his left arm, he rode man ! How sudden an end ! 1 In medio
out to do battle. vitae,’ as the Holy Book
Now, Nigel, young and has it. One moment in
inexperienced, all Nature’s the pride of his youth—
aid will not help you the next his head torn
against the mixed craft and from his body. Now'
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 armour,
your chance were small.
Your downfall is near, but
as you see the famous red
martins on the blue ground
your gallant heart, which
never knew fear, is only
filled with joy and amaze­
ment at the honour done
you. Your downfall is “ T H E niSHOP H A D S P R U N G DOWN B E S I D E T H E P R O S T R A T E B O D Y . ”
 SIR N IG E L . 253

God and His saints have mercy upon me and distance, too much amused by it to explain
guard me from evil ! ” or interfere, rode up weary with laughter now
The last prayer was shot out of the Bishop that all was discovered.
with an energy and earnestness which was “ Let him o u t! ” said the King, with his
unusual in his orisons. It was caused by the hand to his side. “ I pray you to unlace
sudden outcry of one of the squires, who, him and let him out. I have shared in
having lifted the helmet from the ground, many a spear-running, but never have I been
cast it down again with a scream of horror. nearer falling from my horse than as I
“ It is empty ! ’ he cried. “ It weighs as watched this one. I feared the fall had
light as a feather.” struck him senseless, since he lay so still.”
“ ’Fore God, it is true ! ” cried Manny, Nigel had indeed lain with all the breath
laying his hand on it. “ There is no one in shaken from his body, and as he was unaware
it. With what have I fought, Father Bishop ? that his helmet had been carried off he had
Is it of this world or of the next ? ” not understood either the alarm or the
The Bishop had clambered on to his horse amusement that he had caused. Now freed
the better to consider the point. from the great hauberk in which he had been
“ If the foul fiend is abroad,” said he, “ my shut like a pea in a pod, he stood blinking in
place is over yonder by the King’s side. the light, blushing deeply with shame that
Certes, that sulphur-coloured horse hath a the shifts to which his poverty had reduced
very devilish look. I could have sw'orn that him should be exposed to all these laughing
I saw both smoke and flame from its nostrils. courtiers. It was the King who brought him
The beast is fit to bear a suit of armour comfort.
which rides and fights and yet hath no man “ You have shown that you can use your
within it.” father’s weapons,” said he, “ and you have
“ Nay, not too fast, Father Bishop,” said proved also that you are the worthy bearer of
one of the knights. “ It may be all that you his name and his arms, for you have withir.
say, and yet come from a human workshop. you that spirit for which he was famous. But
When I made a campaign in South Germany I wot that neither he nor you would suffer a
I there saw at Nuremberg a cunning figure, train of hungry men to starve before your
devised by an armourer, which could both door, so lead on, I pray you, and if the meat
ride and wield a sword. If this be such a be as good as this grace before it, then it will
be a feast indeed ! ”
“ I thank you all for your very gentle
courtesy.” said a booming voice from the CH APTER X.
figure upon the ground. HOW TH E K IN G GREETED H IS SE N E SC H A L
At the words even the valiant Manny OF CA LA IS.
sprang into his saddle. Some rode madly I t would have fared ill with the good name
away from the horrid trunk. A few of the of Tilford manor-house and with the house­
boldest lingered. keeping of the aged Dame Ermyntrude had
“ Most of all,” said the voice, “ would I the King’s whole retinue, with his outer and
thank the most noble knight, Sir Walter inner marshal, his justiciar, his chamberlain,
Manny, that he should deign to lay aside his and his guard, all gathered under the one
greatness and condescend to do a deed of roof. But by the foresight and the gentle
arms upon so humble a squire.” management of Chandos this calamity was
“ ’Fore God ! ” said Manny, “ if this be avoided, so that some were quartered at the
the devil, then the devil hath a very courtly great Abbey and others passed on to enjoy
tongue. I will have him out of his armour the hospitality of Sir Roger FitzAlan at
if he blast me.” Farnham Castle. Only the King himself, the
So saying he sprang once more from his Prince, Manny, Chandos, Sir Hubert de
horse, and plunging his hand down the slit Burgh, the Bishop, and two or three more
in the collapsed gorget he closed it tightly remained behind as the guests of the
upon a fistful of Nigel’s yellow curls. The I^orings.
groata that "came forth was enough to convince But small as was the party and humble the
him that it was indeed a man who lurked surroundings, the King in no way relaxed that
within. At the same time his eyes fell upon love of ceremony, of elaborate form, and of
the hole in the mail corselet which had served brilliant colouring which was one of his
the squire as a visor, and he burst into deep- characteristics. The sumpter mules were
chested mirth. The King, the Prince, and unpacked, squires ran hither and thither,
Chandos, who had watched the scene from a baths smoked in the bedchambers, silks and
 254 TH E STR A N D M AG A ZIN E.

clad in his best, but look­

ing drab and sorry amid
the brilliant costumes round
him, Nigel himself, regard­
less 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 adven­
ture of the bridge.
“ By the rood ! ” said
King Edward, leaning back
with a chicken-bone held
d a in tily 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 midrift, 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
“ SOME W EEK y U A K T E K E U A T T H E G R E A T A B B E Y .” eyes, saw by Nigel’s flushed and embarrassed
face that his poverty hung heavily upon him.
satins were unfolded, gold chains gleamed “ Nay,” said he, kindly, “ such a workman
and chinked, so that when at last, to the is surely worthy of better tools.”
long blast of two Court trumpeters, the “ And it is for his master to see that he
company took their seats at the board, it was has them,” added the King. “ The Court
the brightest, fairest scene which those old armourer will look to it that the next time
black rafters had ever spanned. The great your helmet is carried away, Nigel, your head
influx of foreign knights who had come in shall be inside it.”
their splendour from all parts of Christendom Nigel, red to the roots of his flaxen hair,
to take part in the opening of the Round stammered out some words of thanks. John
Tower of Windsor si \ years before, and to Chandos, however, had a fresh suggestion,
try their luck and their skill at the tourna­ and he cocked a roguish eye as he made it.
ment connected with it, had deeply modified “ Surely, my liege, your bounty is little
the English fashions of dress. The old needed in this case. It is the ancient law of
tunic, over-tunic, and cyclas were too sad and arms that if two cavaliers start to joust, and
simple for the new fashions, so now strange one either by maladdress or misadventure
and brilliantcotehardies. pourpoints,courtpies, fail to meet the shock, then his arms become
paltocks, hanselines,and many other wrondrous the property of him who still holds the lists.
garments, parti coloured or diapered, with This being so, methinks, Sir Hubert de
looped, embroidered, or escalloped edges, Burgh, that the fine hauberk of Milan and
flamed and glittered round the King. He the helmet of Bordeaux steel in which you
himself, in black velvet and gold, formed a rode to Tilford should remain with our
dark, rich centre to the finery around him. young host as some small remembrance of
On his right sat the Prince, on his left the your visit.”
Bishop, while Dame Ermyntrude marshalled The suggestion raised a general chorus of
the forces of the household outside, alert approval and laughter, in which all joined
and watchful, pouring in her dishes and her save only Sir Hubert himself, who, flushed
flagons at the right moment, rallying her with anger, fixed his baleful eyes upon
tired servants, encouraging the van, hurrying Chandos’s mischievous and smiling face.
the rear, hastening up her reserves, the “ I said that I did not play that foolish
tapping of her oak stick heard ever where the game, and I know nothing of its laws,” said
pressure was the greatest. Behind the King, b e ; “ but you know well, John, that if you
 SIR N IG E L. 255

would have a bout with sharpened spears or Italy, lately appointed Governor of Calais,
swords, where two ride to the ground and and this sudden and urgent summons from
only one away from it, you have not far to the King might well mean some renewal of
go to find it.” the war with France, which was the dearest
“ Nay, nay ; would you ride to the ground ? wish of every soldier. Twice the King had
Surely you had best walk, Hubert,” said stopped his meal and sat with sidelong head,
Chandos. “ On your feet I know well his wine-cup in his hand, listening attentively
that I should not see your back, as we have when some sound like the clatter of hoofs
seen it to-day. Say what you will, your was heard from outside, but the third time
horse has played you false, and I claim your there could be no mistake. The tramp and
suit of harness for Nigel Loring.” jingle of the horses broke loud upon the ear,
“ Your tongue is over-long, John, and I and ended in hoarse voices calling out of the
am weary of its endless clack,” said Sir darkness, who were answered by the archers
Hubert, his yellow moustache bristling from posted as sentries without the door.
a scarlet face. “ I f you claim my harness, do “ Some traveller has indeed arrived, my
you yourself come and take it. If there is a liege,” said Nigel. “ What is your Royal
moon in the sky you can try this very night will ? ”
when the board is cleared.” “ It can be but Aymery,” the King
“ Nay, fair sirs,” cried the King, smiling answered, “ for it was only to him that I left
from one to the other, “ this matter must be the message that he should follow me hither.
followed no farther. Do you fill a bumper Bid him come in, I pray you, and make him
of Gascony, John, and you also, Hubert. very welcome at your board.”
Now pledge each other, I pray you, as good Nigel cast open the door, plucking a torch
and loyal comrades who would scorn to fight from its bracket as he did so. Half-a-dozen
save in your King’s quarrel. We can spare men-at-arms sat their horses outside, but one
neither of you while there is so much work had dismounted—a short, squat, swarthy
for brave hearts over the sea. As to this man with a rat face and quick, restless
matter of the harness, John Chandos speaks brown eyes which peered eagerly past Nigel
truly where it concerns a joust in the lists, into the red glare of the well-lit hall.
but we hold that such a law is scarce binding “ I am Sir Aymery of Pavia,” he whispered.
in this, which was but a wayside passage and “ For God’s sake, tell me, is the King
a gentle trial of arms. On the other hand, in within ? ”
the case of your squire, Master Manny, there “ He is at table, fair sir, and he bids you
can be no doubt that his suit is forfeit.” to enter.”
“ It is a grievous hearing for him, my “ One moment, young man, one moment,
liege,” said Walter Manny, “ for he is a poor and a secret word in your ear. Wot you why
man, and hath been at sore pains to fit him­ it is that the King has sent for me? ” Nigel
self for the wars. Yet what you say shall be read terror in the dark, cunning eyes which
done, fair sire; so if you will come to me in glanced in sidelong fashion into his.
the morning, Squire Loring, John Widdi- “ Nay, I know not.”
combe’s suit will be handed over to you.” “ I would I knew— I would I was sure ere
“ Then, with the King’s leave, I will hand I sought his presence.”
it back to him,” said Nigel, troubled and “ You have but to cross the threshold, fair
stammering, “ for indeed I had rather never sir, and doubtless you will learn from the
ride to the wars than take from a brave man King’s own lips.”
his only suit of plate.” Sir Aymery seemed to gather himself as
“ There spoke your father’s spirit! ” cried one who braces for a spring into ice-cold
the King. “ By the rood ! Nigel, I like you water. Then he crossed with a quick stride
full well. Let the matter bide in my hands. from the darkness into the light. The King
But I marvel much that Sir Aymery the stood up, and held out his hand with a smile
Lombard hath hot come to us yet from upon his long, handsome face—and yet it
Windsor.” seemed to the Italian that it was the lips
From the moment of his arrival at Tilford, which smiled, but not the eyes.
again and again King Edward had asked “ Welcome ! ” cried Edward. “ Welcome
most eagerly whether Sir Aymery had come, to our worthy and faithful Seneschal of Calais !
and whether there was any news of him, so Come, sit here before me at the board,
that the courtiers glanced at each other in for I have sent for you that I may hear your
wonder. For Aymery was known to all news from over the sea, and thank you for the
of them as a famous mercenary soldier of care that you have taken of that which is as
 256 THE ST R A N D M AGAZIN E.

dear to me as wife.or child. Set a place for come down to St. Omer with his eyes upon
Sir Aymery there, and give him food and my precious jewel and his mailed hands ready
drink, for he has ridden fast and far in our to grasp it.”
service to-day.” “ Nay, sire, let him come. He will find
Throughout the long feast which the skill the jewel safe in its strong-box with a goodly
o f th e L a d y guard over it.”
Ermyntrude had “ You are the
arranged Edward guard over my
c ha t t e d l i ght l y jewel, Aymery.”
with the Italian “ Yes, sire, I
as well as with am the guard.”
the barons near “ And you are
hi m. F i n a l l y , a faithful guard,
w’hen the last dish and one whom I
was removed and can trust, are you
the gravy-soaked not? You would
rounds of coarse not barter away
br e a d whi ch that which is so
served as plates dear to me when
had been cast to I have chos en
t h e do g s , t h e you out of all my
wine-flagons were army to hold it
passed round, and for me ? ”
old Weathercote “ Nay, s i r e;
the minstrel en­ what reasons can
tered timidly with there be for such
his harp in the questions ? They
h o p e t h a t he touch my honour
might be allowed very nearly; you
to play before the know that I
King’s Maj esty. would only part
But Edward had with Calais when
other sport afoot. I parted with my
“ I pray you, soul.”
Nigel, to send out “ T h e n you
the servants, so know nothing of
that we may be de C h a r g n y ’s
alone. I would attempt ? ”
have two men-at-arms at every door, lest we “ Nothing, sire,” said the Italian.
be disturbed in our debate, for it is a matter “ Liar and villain! ” yelled the King,
of privacy. And now, Sir Aymery, these springing to his feet and dashing his fist
noble lords as well as I, your master, would upon the table until the glasses rattled again.
fain hear from your own lips how all goes “ Seize him, archers ; seize him this instant !
forward in France.” Stand close by either elbow lest he do
The Italian’s face was calm ; but he looked himself a mischief. Now, do you dare to
restlessly from one to another along the line tell me to my face, you perjured Lombard,
of his listeners. that you know nothing of de Chargny and
“ So far as I know, my liege, all is quiet on his plans ? ”
the French marches,” said he. “ As God is my witness I know nothing of
“ You have not heard, then, that they have him.” The man’s lips were white, and he
mustered or gathered to a head with the spoke in a thin, sighing, reedy voice, his
intention of breaking the truce and making eves wincing away from the fell gaze of the
some attempt upon our dominions ? ” angry King.
“ Nay, sire, I have heard nothing of Edward laughed bitterly and drew a paper
it.” from his breast.
“ You set my mind much at ease, Aymery,” “ You are the judges in this case ; you,
said the King, “ for if nothing has come to my fair son, and you, Chandos, and you,
your ears, then surely it cannot be. It was Manny, and you, Sir Hubert, and you also,
said that the wild knight de Chargny had my Ix)rd Bishop. By my sovereign power
 SIX N IG EL. 257

I make you a court that you may deal justice sire,” said Chandos. “ De Chargny was my
upon this man, for by God’s eyes I will not prisoner, and so many letters passed ere his
stir from this room until I have sifted the ransom was paid that his script is well known
matter to the bottom. And first I would to me. Yes, y e s; I will swear that this is
read you this letter. It is superscribed to indeed his. If my salvation were at stake I
could swear it.”
“ If it were indeed written
by de Chargny it was to
dishonour 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 enter
prise does not ride beneath
the lilies of France. Such
a man would never stoop to
write a letter for the sake of
putting dishonour 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 set 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.
L IA R AND VILLA IN ! Y E L L E D T H E K IN G , SPRINGING
“ This letter,” said the King, “ was given
TO HIS F E E T . " by de Chargny to one Dom Beauvais, a
priest of St. Omer, to carry into Calais. The
Sir Aymery de Pavia nomme Le Ixmibard, said priest, smelling a reward, brought it to
Chateau de Calais. Is that not your name one who is my faithful servant, and so it
and style, you rogue ? ” came to me. Straightway I sent for this
“ It is my name, sire, but no such letter man that he should come to me. Meanwhile
has come to me.” the priest has returned, so that de Chargny
" Else had your villainy never been dis­ may think that his message is indeed
closed. It is signed ‘ Isidore de Chargny.’ delivered.”
What says my enemy, de Chargny, to my “ I know nothing of it,” said the Italian,
trusted servant ? Listen ! ‘ We could not doggedly, licking his dry lips.
come with the last moon, for we have not A dark flush mounted to the King’s fore­
gathered to sufficient strength, nor have we head, and his eyes were gorged with his
been able to collect the twenty thousand wrath.
crowns which are your price. But with the “ No more of this, for God's dignity ! ”
next turn of the moon in the darkest hour we he cried. “ Had we this fellow at the Tower
will come, and you will be paid your money a few turns of the rack would tear a confes­
at the small postern gate with the rowan bush sion from his craven soul. But why should
beside it.’ Well, sir, what say you now ? ” we need his word for his own guilt ? You
“ It is a forgery ! ” gasped the Italian. have seen, my lords—you have heard ! How
“ I pray you that you will let me see it, say you, fair son ? Is the man guilty ? ”
Vol. xxii. 33.
 TH E STR AN D M AG AZIN E.

“ Sire, he is guilty.” intaking of Calais ? I have a wife and four

“ And you, John ?■ And you, Walter ? And children in Italy, great King, and it w'as the
you, Hubert? And you, my Lord Bishop? thought of them which led me to fall from
You are all of one mind, then ? He is guilty my duty, for this money would have allowed
of the betrayal of his trust. And the punish­ me to leave the wars and to see them once
ment ? ” again. Mercy, my liege, mercy, I implore ! ”
“ It can only be death,” said the Prince, The English are a rough race, but not a
and each in turn the others nodded their cruel one. The King sat with a face of doom,
agreement. but the others looked askance and fidgeted
“ Aymery of Pavia, you have heard your in their seats.
doom,” said Edward, leaning his chin upon “ Indeed, my fair liege,” said Chandos, “ I
his hand and glooming at the cowering pray you that you will abate somewhat of
Italian. “ Step forward, you archer at the your anger.”
door—you with the black beard. Draw your Edward shook his head curtly.
sword ! Nay, you white-faced rogue, I would “ Be silent, John. It shall be as I have
not dishonour this roof-tree by your blood. said.”
It is your heels, not your head, that we want. “ I pray you, my dear and honoured liege,
Hack off those golden spurs of knighthood not to act with overmuch haste in the
with your sword, archer. Tw as I who gave matter,” said Manny. “ Bind him and hold
them and I who take them back. Ha ! him until the morning, for other counsels
they fly across the hall, and with them every may prevail.”
bond betwixt you and the worshipful order “ Nay ; I have spoken. Lead him out.”
whose sign and badge they are. Now lead But the trembling man clung to the King’s
him out on to the heath afar from the houses, knees in such a fashion that the archers could
where his carrion can best lie, and hew his not disengage his convulsive grip.
scheming head from his body %s a warning “ Listen to me a moment, I implore you !
to all such traitors.” Give me but one minute to plead to you, and
The Italian, who had slipped from his then do what you will.”
chair to his knees, uttered a cry of despair as The King leaned back in his chaii
an archer seized him by either shoulder. “ Speak and have done,” said he.
Writhing out of
their grip, he threw
himself upon the
floor and clutched
at the King’s feet.
“ Spare me, my
most dread lord,
s p a r e me , I
beseech you ! In
th e n a m e of
Christ’s passion, I
implore your grace
and pardon ! Be-
t h i n k you, my
good and dear
lord, how many
years I have served
under your ban­
ners and how
many services I
have ren d ered .
Was it not I who
found the ford
upon the Seine
two days before
the great battle?
Was it not I also
who marshalled
“ TO T H E K I N G S K N E E S IN S UC H A F A S H IO N T H A T T H E A R C H E R S
the attack at the t h e t r em b lin g man clung
CO U LD N O T D I S E N G A G E H l S C O N V U L S I V E G R I B . "
 s ix y 1G E l .. 2S9
“ Y oil must spare me, my noble liege. thing in charge ? ” He looked mischievously
I'or your own sake I say that you must spare from one to the other, like a master who
me, for I can set you in the way of such a dangles a bone betwixt two fierce old hounds.
knightly adventure as will gladden your All they had to say was in their burning,
heart. Bethink you, sire, that this de longing eyes. “ Nay, John, you must not
Chargny and his comrades know nothing of take it amiss, but it is Walter’s turn, and he
their plans having gone awry. If I do but shall have it.”
send them a message they will surely come “ Shall we not all go under your own
to the postern gate. Then, if we have placed banner, sire, or that of the Prince ? ”
our bushment with skill, we shall have such “ N a y ; it is not fitting that the Royal
a capture and such a ransom as will fill banners of England should be advanced in
your coffers. He and his comrades should so small an adventure. And yet, if you
be worth a good hundred thousand crowns.” have space in your ranks for two more
Edward spurned the Italian away from cavaliers, both the Prince and I would ride
him with his foot until he sprawled among with you that night.”
the rushes, but even as he lay there like a The young man stooped and kissed his
wounded snake his dark eyes never left the father’s hand.
King’s face. “ Take this man in your charge, Walter,
“ You double traitor! You would sell and do with him as you will. Guard well,
Calais to de Chargny and then in turn you lest he betray us once again. Take him
would sell de Chargny to me. How dare from my sight, for his breath poisons the
you suppose that I or any noble knight had room. And now, Nigel, if that worthy grey­
such a huckster’s soul as to think only of beard of thine would fain twang his harp or
ransoms where honour is to be won ? Could sing to us —but what in God’s name would
I or any true man be so caitiff and so thrall ? you have ? ”
You have sealed your own doom. Lead He had turned, to find his young host upon
him o u t! ” his knee and his flaxen, head bent in entreaty.
“ One instant, I pray you, my fair and “ What is it, man ? What do you crave ? ”
most sweet lord,” cried the Prince. “ Assuage “ A boon, fair liege ! ”
your wrath yet a little while, for this man’s “ Well, well ; am I to have no peace to­
rede deserves perhaps more thought than we night, with a traitor kneeling to me in front
have given it. He has turned your noble and a true man on his knees behind ? Out
soul sick with his talk of ransoms, but look with it, Nigel ! What would you have ? ”
at it, I pray you, from the side of honour, and “ To come with you to Calais."
where could we find such hope of worship- “ By the rood ! your request is fair enough,
fully winning honour? I pray you to let me seeing that our plot is hatched beneath your
put my body in this adventure, for it is one very roof. How say you, Walter ? Will you
from which, if rightly handled, much advance­ take him, armour and all ? ”
ment is to be gained.” “ Say rather will you take me ? ” said
Edward looked with sparkling eyes at the Chandos. “ We are rivals in honour, Walter,
noble youth at his side. but I am very sure that you would not hold
“ Never was hound more keen on the track me back.”
of a stricken hart than you on the hope of “ Nay, John, I will be proud to have the
honour, fair son,” said he. “ How do you best lance in Christendom beneath my
conceive the matter in your mind ? ” banner.”
“ De Chargny and his men will be such as “ And I to follow so knightly a leader.
are worth going far to meet, for he will have But Nigel Coring is my squire, and so he
the pick of France under his banner that comes with us also.”
night. If we did as this man says, and “ Then that is settled,” said the K in g ;
awaited him with the same number of lances, “ and now there is no need for hurry, since
then I cannot think that there is any spot there can be no move until the moon has
in Christendom where one would rather be changed. So I pray you to pass the flagon
than in Calais that night.” once again, and to drink with me to the good
“ By the rood, fair son, you are right! ” knights of France. May they be of great
cried the King, his face shining with the heart and high of enterprise when we all
thought. “ Now, which of you, John meet once more within the castle wall of
Chandos or Walter Manny, will take the Calais.”

( To be continued.)
“ A ST RA N G E S IG H T IT W A S T H A T MET T H E M N O W IN T H E C IRC L E OF LIGH T.

(5«<r tage 376.)

 T he St r a n d Magazine.
Vol. xxxi. A PR IL, 1906. No. 184.

SIR NIGEL.
B y A . C O N A N D O Y L E .

CH APTER XI. you as the shell fits the crab. A finer suit
IN T H E H A L L OF T H E K N IG H T OF D U PP LIN . never came from Italy or Spain.”
H E K IN G had come and had Nigel stood in front of a burnished shield
gone. Tilford manor - house which served as a mirror, and he turned this
stood once more dark and way and that, preening himself like a little
silent, but joy and contentment shining bird. His smooth breast-plate, his
reigned within its walls. In wondrous joints with their deft protection by
one night every trouble had the discs at knee and elbow and shoulder,
fallen away, like some dark curtain which had the beautifully flexible gauntlets and sollerets,
shut out the sun. A princely sum of money the shirt of mail, and the close-fitting greave
had come from the King’s treasurer, given in plates were all things of joy and of beauty in
such fashion that there could be no refusal. his eyes. He sprang about the shop to show
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 under­
stand, 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 re­
ceived. 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 armourer’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 armourer, 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
Vol. xxxi.—4 6 . Copyright, 1906, by A. Conan Doyle, in the United States of America.
 364 TH E STR A N D M A G A ZIN E .

his lightness, and then running out he placed Sir John Buttesthorn, the Knight of
his hand on the pommel and vaulted into Dupplin, was so called because he had been
Pommers’s saddle, while Wat and his boy present at that strange battle, some eighteen
applauded in the doorway. Then springing years before, when the full power of Scotland
off and running into the shop again he had been for a moment beaten to the ground
clashed down upon his knees before the by a handful of adventurers and mercenaries,
image of the Virgin upon the smithy wall. marching under the banner of no nation,
There from his heart he prayed that no but fighting in their own private quarrel.
shadow or stain should come upon his soul 'Their exploit fills no pages of history, for
or his honour whilst these arms encased his it is to the interest of no nation to record
body, and that he might be strengthened to it, and yet the rumour and fame of the
use them for noble and godly ends. A great fight bulked large in those times, for
strange turn this to a religion of peace, and it was on that day, when the flower of
yet for many a century the sword and the Scotland was left dead upon the field, that
faith had upheld each othe-, and in a dark the world first understood that a new force
ened world the best ideal of the soldier had arisen in war, and that the English
had turned in some dim, groping fashion archer, with his robust courage and his skill
towards the light. “ Benedictus dominus with the weapon which he had wielded from
deus meus qui docet manus meas ad praelium his boyhood, was a power with which even
et digitos meos ad bellum.” There spoke the mailed chivalry of Europe had seriously
the soul of the knightly soldier. to reckon. Sir John, after his return from
So the armour was trussed upon the Scotland* had become the King’s own head
armourer’s mule, and went back with them huntsman, famous through all England for
to Tilford, where Nigel put it on once more his knowledge of venerie, until at last, get­
for the pleasure of the Lady Ermyntrude, ting over-heavy for his horses, he had settled
who clapped her skinny hands and shed in modest comfort into the old house of
tears of mingled pain and joy— pain that she Cosford, upon the eastern slope of the Hind-
should lose him, joy that he should go so head hill. Here, as his face grew redder and
bravely to the wars. As to her own future, his beard more white, he spent the evening
it had been made easy for her, since it was of his days, amid hawks and hounds, a flagon
arranged that a steward should look to the of spiced wine ever at his elbow, and his
Tilford estate, whilst she had at her disposal swollen foot perched upon a stool before
a suite of rooms in Royal Windsor, where, him. There it was that many an old
with other venerable dames of her own age comrade broke his journey as he passed
and standing, she could spend the twilight of down the rude road which led from London
her days discussing long-forgotten scandals, to Portsmouth, and thither also came the
and whispering sad things about the grand­ young gallants of the country to hear the
fathers and grandmothers of the young stout knight’s tales of old wars, or to learn
courtiers around them. There Nigel might from him that lore of the forest and the chase
leave her with an easy mind when he turned which none could teach so well as he.
his face to France. But, sooth to say, whatever the old knight
But there was one more visit to be paid might think, it was not merely his old tales
and one more farewell to be spoken ere and older wine which drew the young men
Nigel could leave the moorlands where he to Cosford, but rather the fair face of his
had dwelled so long. That evening he younger daughter, or the strong soul and
donned his brightest tunic —dark purple wise counsel of the elder. Never had two
velvet of Genoa, with trimming of miniver more different branches sprung from the same
— his hat with the snow-white feather curling trunk. Both were tall and of a queenly,
round the front, and his belt of embossed graceful figure. But there all resemblance
silver round his loins. Mounted on lordly began and ended. Edith was yellow as
Pommers, with his hawk upon wrist and his the ripe corn, blue eyed, winning, mis­
sword by his side, never did fairer young chievous, with a chattering tongue, a
gallant, or one more modest in mind, set merry laugh, and a smile which a dozen
forth upon such an errand. It was but the of young gallants, Nigel of Tilford at
old Knight of Dupplin to whom he would their head, could share equally amongst
say farewell, but the Knight of Dupplin had them. Like a young kitten she played with
two daughters, Edith and Mary, and Edith all things that she found in life, and some
was the fairest maid in all the heather- there were who thought that already the
country. claws could be felt amid the patting of her
 SIR N IG E L . 365

velvet touch. Mary was dark as night, grave- they spoke. Nigel glanced back at the
featured, plain-visaged, with steady, brown old grey boulder, and he felt for an instant
eyes looking bravely at the world from under a shudder pass through his stout heart.
a strong black arch of brows. None could Was it the chill of the evening air, or
call her beautiful ; and when her fair sister was it that some inner voice had whispered
cast her arm round her and placed her cheek to him of the day when he also might lie
against hers, as was her habit when company bound on such a rock and have such a
was there, the fairness of the one and the blood stained, pagan crew howling around
plainness of the other leaped visibly to the him ? An instant later the rock and his
eyes of all, each the clearer for that hard vague fear and all things else had passed
contrast. And yet, here and there, there was from his mind, for there, down the yellow,
one who, looking at her strange, strong face sandy path, the setting sun gleaming on her
and at the passing gleams far down in her golden hair, her lithe figure bending and
dark eyes, felt that this silent woman, with swaying with every heave of the cantering
her proud bear- horse, was none
in g a n d h e r other than the
q u e e n ly grace, same fair Edith
had in her some­ whose face had
thing of strength, come so often
of reserve, and betwixt him and
of mystery which his sleep. His
was more to them blood rushed hot
than a ll the to his face at the
dainty glitter of sight, for, fearless
her sister. Such of all else, his
were the ladies of spirit was attrac­
Cosford towards ted an d y e t
w hom N ig e l daunted by the
L o r in g ro d e delicate mystery
that night with of woman. To
doublet of h is p u r e and
Genoan velvet knightly soul not
and the new Edith alone but
white feather in every woman sat
his cap. high and aloof,
He had ridden en th ro n ed and
o ver T h u rsle y exalted, with a
Ridge, past that thousand mystic
old stone where excellences and
in days gone by, v irtu e s w hich
at the place of raised her far
Thor, the wild above the rude
Saxons worship­ w orld o f man.
ped their war- There was joy
go d . N i g e l in contact with
looked at it with a wary eye, and spurred them, and yet there was fear—fear lest
Pommers onwards as he passed it, for his own unworthiness, his untrained
still it was said that wild fires danced tongue, or rougher ways should in some
round it on the moonless nights, and they way break rudely upon this delicate and
who had ears for such things could hear the tender thing. Such was his thought as
scream and sob of those whose lives had been the white horse cantered towards him, but
ripped from them that the fiend might be a moment later his vague doubts were
honoured. Thor’s stone, Thor’s jumps, set at rest by the frank voice of the
1 hor’s punch-bowl— the whole countryside young girl, who waved her whip in merry
was one grim monument to the god of greeting.
battles, though the pious monks had changed “ Hail and well met, N ig e l!” she cried.
his uncouth name for that of the Devil his “ Whither away this evening? Sure I am
father, so that it was the Devil’s jumps that it is not to see your friends of Cosford,
and the Devil’s punch - bowl of which for w h en d id you ever d o n s o b ra v e a
 366 THE STR AN D M AG AZIN E.

doublet for us? Come, Nigel, her name, “ Oh, in sooth ! ” She tossed her fair
that I may hate her for ever ! ” head and rode onwards in silence, with com­
“ Nay, Edith,” said the young squire, pressed lips and angry eyes. Nigel glanced
laughing back at the laughing girl. “ I was at her in surprise and dismay.
indeed coming to Cosford.” “ Surely, Edith,” said he at last, “ you
“ Then we shall ride back together, for I have over much regard for my honour that
will go no farther. How think you that I you should wish me to break the word that
am looking?” I have given ? ”
Nigel’s answer was in his eyes as he glanced “ Your honour belongs to you, and my
at the fair, flushed face, the golden hair, the likings belong to me,” said she. “ You hold
sparkling blue eyes, and the daintily graceful fast to the one and I will do the same by the
figure set off in a scarlet and black riding other.”
dress. They rode in silence through Thursley
“ You are as fair as ever, Edith.” village. Then a thought came to her mind,
“ Oh, cold of speech ! Surely you were and in an instant her anger was forgotten and
bied for the cloisters and not for a lady’s she was hot on a new scent.
bower, Nigel? Had I asked such a question “ What would you do if I were injured,
from young Sir George Brocas or the Squire Nigel? I have heard my father say that,
of Fernhurst, he would have raved from here small as you are, there is no man in these
to Cosford. They are both more to my taste parts could stand against you. Would you
than you are, Nigel.” be my champion if I suffered wrong?”
“ It is the worse for me, Edith,” said Nigel, “ Surely I or any man of gentle blood
ruefully. would be the champion of any woman who
“ Nay, but you must not lose heart.” had suffered wrong.”
“ Have I not already lost it ? ” said he. “ You or any and I or any— what sort of a
“ That is better,” she cried, laughing. speech is that? Is it a compliment, think
“ You can be quick enough when you choose, you, to be mixed with a drove in that fashion ?
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 rumoured
after the King had been to
Tilford. The story runs 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.” WOULD YOU B E MY C H A M P I O N IF I S U F F E R E D W R O N G ? "
 SIR N IG EL. 367

My question was of you and me. If I were say what you will, I shall ever believe that
wronged, would you be my m an?" you have heard of his skill at fence and of
“ 'Fry me and see, Edith ! ” his great spirit, and that your heart has failed
“ Then I will do so, Nigel. Either Sir you. You are right, Nigel He is indeed
George Brocas or the Squire of Fernhurst a perilous man, Had you done what I
would gladly do what I ask, and yet I am of asked he would have slain you, and so you
a mind, Nigel, to turn to you.” have shown your wisdom.”
“ I pray you to tell me what it is.” Nigel flushed and winced under the words,
“ You know Paul de la Fosse of Shal but he said no more, for his mind was fight­
ford ? ” ing hard within him, striving to keep that
“ You mean the small man with the twisted high image of woman which seemed for a
back ? " moment to totter on the edge of a fall.
“ He is no smaller than yourself, N igel, Together in silence side by side, the little
and as to his back, there are many folk that man and the stately woman, the yellow
I know who would be glad to have his face.” charger and the white jennet, passed up the
“ Nay, I am no judge of that, and I spoke sandy, winding track with the gorse and the
out of no discourtesy. What of the man ? ” bracken head-high on either side. Soon a
“ He has flouted me, Nigel, and I would path branched off through a gateway marked
have revenge.” with the boar-heads of the Buttesthorns, and
“ What—on that poor twisted creature ? ” there was the low, wide spread house, heavily
“ I tell you that he has flouted me.” timbered, loud with the barking of dogs.
“ But how ? ” The ruddy knight limped forth with out­
“ I should have thought that a true cavalier stretched hand and roaring voice :—
would have flown to my aid, withouten all “ What ho, N ig el! Good welcome and
these questions. But I will tell you, since I all hail ! I had thought that you had given
needs must. Know then that he was one of over poor friends like us now that the King
those who came around me and professed to had made so much of you. The horses,
be my own. Then, merely because he varlets, or my crutch will be across you !
thought that there were others who were as Hush, Lydiard ! Down, Pelamon ! I can
dear to me as himself, he left me, and now he scarce hear my voice for your yelping. Mary,
pays court to Maude Twynham, the little a cup of wine for young Squire Loring ! ”
freckle-faced hussy in his village.” She stood framed in the doorway— tall,
“ But how has this hurt you, since he was mystic, silent, with strange, wistful face, and
no man of thine ? ” her deep soul shining in her dark, questioning
“ He was one of my men, was he not? eyes. Nigel kissed the hand that she held
And he has made game of me to his wench. out, and all his faith in woman and his
He has told her things about me. He has reverence came back to him as he looked at
made me foolish in her eyes. Yes, yes, I her. Her sister had slipped behind her, and
can read it in her saffron face and in her her fair, elfish face smiled her forgiveness of
watery eyes when we meet at the church Nigel over Mary’s shoulder. The Knight of
door on Sundays. She smiles—yes, smiles Dupplin leaned his weight upon the young
at me. Nigel, go to him. Do not slay him, man’s arm, and limped his way across the
nor even wound him, but lay his face open great high-roofed hall to his capacious oaken
with thy riding-whip, and then come back to chair.
me and tell me how I can serve you.” “ Come, come; the stool, Edith!” he cried.
Nigel’s face was haggard with the strife “ As God is my help, that girl’s mind swarms
within, for desire ran hot in every vein, and with gallants as a granary with rats. Well,
yet reason shrank with horror. Nigel, I hear strange tales of your spear­
“ By St. Paul ! Edith,” he cried, “ I see running at Tilford and of the visit of the
no honour nor advancement of any sort in King. How seemed he ? And my old friend
this thing which you have asked me to do. Chandos—many happy hours in the wood­
Is it for me to strike one who is no better lands have we had together ; and Manny, too,
than a cripple? For my manhood I could he was ever a bold and a hard rider— what
not do such a deed, and I pray you, dear news of them all ? ”
lady, that you will set me some other task.” Nigel told the old knight all that had
Her eyes flashed at him in contempt. occurred, saying little of his own success and
“ And you are a man-at-arms ! ” she cried, much of his own failure, yet the eyes of the
laughing in bitter scorn. “ You are afraid of dark woman burned the brighter as she sat at
g little man who cap scarce walk ! Yes, ye s; her tapestry and listened. Sir John followed
 368 THE STR A N D M AGAZIN E.

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
martin, 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 wild cat,
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 tolayonthe 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.”
“ N IG EL KISSED T H E HAND T H A T SH E H ELD
“ Nay, Sir John,” said
Nigel, “ I think that after
the story with a running fire of oaths, prayers, your teaching I can hold my place with the
thumps with his great fist, and flourishes of others.”
his crutch. The old knight shook his white head
“ Well, well, lad, you could scarce expect doubtfully.
to hold your saddle against Manny, and you “ There is so much to be learned that there
have carried yourself well. We are proud of is no one who can be said to know all,” said
you, Nigel, for you are our own man. reared he. “ For example, Nigel, it is sooth that
in the heather-country. But indeed I take for every collection of beasts of the forest, and
shame that you are not more skilled in the for every gathering of birds of the air, there
mystery of the woods, seeing that I have had is their own private name, so that none may
the teaching of you, and that no one in be confused with another.”
broad England is my master at the craft. I “ I know it, fair sir.”
pray you to fill your cup again whilst I make “ You know it, Nigel, but you do not know
use of the little time that is left to us.” each separate name, else are you a wiser man
And straightway the old knight began a than I had thought you. In truth none can
long and weary lecture upon the times of say that they know all, though I have myself
grace and when each beast and bird is pricked off eighty and six for a wager at
seasonable, with many anecdotes, illustra­ Court, and it is said that the chief huntsman
tions, warnings, and exceptions, drawn from of the Duke of Burgundy has counted over
 A/'JGEL. 369

a hundred, but it is in my mind that he may fool the young Lord of Brocas was here,
have found them as he went, for there was talking of having seen a covey of pheasants
none to say him nay. Answer me now, lad ; in the wood. One such speech would have
how would you say if you saw ten badgers been the ruin of a young squire at the
together in the forest ? ” Court. How would you have said it, Nigel?”
“ A cete of badgers, fair sir.” “ Surely, fair sir, it should be a nye of
“ Good, Nigel—good, by my faith ! And pheasants ? ”
if you walk in Woolmer Forest and see a “ Good, Nigel—a nye of pheasants; even
swarm of foxes, how would you call it ? ” as it is a gaggle of geese, or a badling of
“ A skulk of foxes.” ducks, a fall of woodcock, or a wisp of snipe.
“ And if they be lions ? ” But a covey of pheasants ! What sort of talk
“ Nay, fair sir, I am not like to meet is that ? I made him sit even where you are
several lions in Woolmer Forest.” sitting, Nigel, and I saw the bottom of two
“ Aye, la d ; but there are other forests pots of Rhenish ere I let him up. Even
besides Woolmer and other lands beside then I fear that he had no great profit from
England, and who can tell how far afield his lesson, for he was casting his foolish eyes
such a knight-errant as Nigel of Tilford may at Edith when he should have been turning
go, when he sees worship to be won ? We his ears to her father. But where is the
will say that you were in the deserts of Nubia, wench ? ”
and that afterwards at the Court of the great “ She hath gone forth, father.”
Sultan you wished to say that you had seen “ She ever doth go forth when there is a
several lions, which is the first beast of the chance of learning aught that is useful in­
chase, being the king of all animals. How, doors. But supper will soon be ready, and
then, would you say it ? ” there is a boar’s ham fresh from the forest
Nigel scratched his head. with which I would ask your help, Nigel, and
“ Surely, fair sir, I would be content to say a side of venison from the King’s own chase.
that I had seen a number of lions, if indeed The tinemen and verderers have not for­
I could say aught after so wondrous an gotten me yet, and my larder is ever full.
adventure.” Blow three moots on the horn, Mary, that
“ Nay, Nigel, a huntsman would have said the varlets may set the table, for the growing
that he had seem-a pride of lions, and so shadow and my loosening belt warn me that
proved that he knew the language of the chase. it is time.”
Now, had it been boars instead of lions ? ”
“ One says a singular of boars.” CH APTER X II.
“ And if they be swine ? ” HOW N IG K I. FOUGHT T H E T W ISTED MAN
“ Surely it is a herd of swine ? ” OF SH AI.FO RD .
“ Nay, nay, lad ; it is indeed sad to see how I n the days of which you read all classes,
little you know. Your hands, Nigel, were save, perhaps, the \ery poor, fared better in
always better than your head. No man of meat and in drink than they have ever done
gentle birth would speak of a herd of swine. since. The country was covered with wood­
That is the peasant speech. I f you drive lands— there were seventy separate forests in
them it is a herd. If you hunt them it is England alone, some of them covering half a
other. What call you them, then, Edith ? ” shire. Within these forests the great beasts
“ Nay, I know not,” said the girl, listlessly. of the chase were strictly preserved, but the
A crumpled note, brought in by a varlet, was smaller game, the hares, the rabbits, the birds
clenched in her right hand, and her blue eyes which swarmed round the coverts, found their
looked afar into the deep shadows of the roof. way readily into the poor man’s pot. Ale
“ But you can tell us, Mary ? ” was very cheap, and cheaper still was the
“ Surely, sweet sir, one talks of a sounder mead which every peasant could make for
of swine ? ” himself out of the wild honey in the tree-
The old knight laughed exultantly. trunks. There were many tea-like drinks
“ Here is a pupil who never brings me also, which were brewed by the poor at
shame,” he cried. “ Be it lore of chivalry, no expense—mallow tea, tansy tea, and
or heraldry, or woodcraft, or what you will, others, the secret of which has passed. Amid
I can always turn to Mary. Many a man the richer classes there was rude profusion,
can she put to the blush.” great joints ever on the sideboard, huge pies,
“ Myself among them,” said Nigel. beasts of the field and beasts of the chase,
“ Ah, lad, you are a Solomon to some of with ale and rough French or Rhenish wines
them. Hark ye ! Only last week that jack- to wash them down. But the very rich
Vol. xxxi.—4 7 .
 37° TH E ST R A N D M A G A ZIN E .

had attained to a high pitch of luxury in “ Her honour! ” Sir John’s ruddy face
their food, and cookery was a science in had turned redder still as he stared at the
which the ornamentation of the dish was troubled features of the priest. “ Her honour,
almost as important as the dressing of the say you — the honour of my daughter?
food. It was gilded, it was silvered, it was Make good those words, or never set your
painted, it was surrounded with flame. From foot over the threshold of Cosford again 1 ”
the boar and the peacock down to such “ I trust that I have done no wrong, Sir
strange food as the porpoise and the hedge­ John ; but indeed I must say what I have
hog, every dish had its own setting and its seen, else would I be a false friend and an
own sauce, very strange and very complex, unworthy priest.”
with flavourings of dates, currants, cloves, “ Haste, man, haste ! What in the devil’s
vinegar, sugar, and honey, of cinnamon, name have you seen ? ”
ground ginger, sandalwood, saffron, brawn, “ Know you a little man, partly misshapen,
and pines. It was the Norman tradition to named Paul de la Fosse ? ”
eat in moderation, but to have a great pro­ “ I know him well. He is a man of noble
fusion of the best and of the most delicate family and coat-armour, being the younger
from which to choose. From them came brother of Sir Eustace de la Fosse of Shalford.
this complex cookery, so unlike the rude Time was when 1 had thought that I might call
and often gluttonous simplicity of the old him son, for there was never a day that he
Teutonic stock. did not pass with my girls, but I fear that his
Sir John Buttesthorn was of that middle crooked back sped him ill in his wooing.”
class who fared in the old fashion, and his “ Alas, Sir John ! it is his mind that is
great oak supper-table groaned beneath the more crooked than his back. He is a perilous
generous pasties, the mighty joints, and the man with women, for the devil hath given him
great flagons. Below were the household ; such a tongue and such an eye that he charms
above on a raised dais the family table, with them even as the basilisk. Marriage may be
places ever ready for those frequent guests in their mind, but never in his, so' that I
who dropped in from the high road outside. could count a dozen and more whom he has
Such a one had just come, an old priest, led to their undoing. It is his pride and his
journeying from the Abbey of Chertsey to boast over the whole countryside.”
the Priory of St. John at Midhurst. He “ Well, w ell; and what is this to me or
passed often that way, and never without mine ? ”
breaking his journey at the hospitable board “ Even now, Sir John, as I rode my mule
of Cosford. up the road I met this man speeding
“ Welcome again, good Father Athanasius,” towards his home. A woman rode by his
cried the burly knight. “ Come, sit here on side, and though her face was hooded I heard
my right and give me the news of the her laugh as she passed me. That laugh I
countryside, for there is never a scandal but have heard before, and it was under this very
the priests are the first to know it.” roof, from the lips of Mistress Edith.”
The priest, a kindly, quiet man, glanced at The knight’s knife dropped from his hand.
an empty place upon the farther side of his host. But the debate had been such that neither
“ Mistress Edith ? ” said he. Mary nor Nigel could fail to have heard it.
“ Aye, a y e ; where is the hussy?” cried ’Mid the rough laughter and clatter of voices
her father, impatiently. “ Mary, I beg you from below, the little group at the high table
to have the horn blown again, that she may had a privacy of their own.
know that the supper is on the table. What “ Fear not, father,” said the g irl; “ indeed,
can the little owlet do abroad at this hour of the good Father Athanasius hath fallen into
the night?” error, and Edith will be with us anon. I have
There was trouble in the priest’s gentle heard her speak of this man many a time of
eyes as he touched the knight upon the sleeve. late, and always with bitter words.”
“ I have seen Mistress Edith within this “ It is true, sir,” cried Nigel, eagerly. “ It
hour,” said he. “ I fear that she will hear was only this very evening as we rode over
no horn that you may blow, for she must be Thursley Moor that Mistress Edith told me
at Milford ere now.” that she counted him not a fly, and that she
“ At Milford ! What does she there ? ” would be glad if he were beaten for his evil
“ I pray you, good Sir John, to abate your deeds.”
voice somewhat, lor indeed this matter is for But the wise priest shook his silvery locks.
our private discourse, since it touches the “ Nay, there is ever danger when a woman
honour of a lady.” speaks like that. Hot hate is twin b ro th e r
 S/E N IG E L. 37i
to hot love. Why should she speak so if “ Nay, she could not wish for better.”
there were not some bond between them ? ” “ It is well. And first I would question
“ And yet,” said Nigel, “ what can have this Hannekin ; but it shall be done in such
changed her thoughts in three short hours ? a fashion that none shall know, for indeed it
She was here in the hall with us since I is not a matter for the gossip of servants.
came. By St. Paul ! I will not believe it.” But if you will show me the man, Mistress
Mary’s face darkened. Mary, I will take him out to tend my own
“ I call to mind,” said she, “ that a note horse, and so I shall learn all that he has to
was brought her by Hannekin, the stable tell.”
varlet, when you were talking to us, fair sir, Nigel was absent for some time, and when
of the terms of the chase. She read it and he returned the shadow' upon his face
went forth.” brought little hope to the anxious hearts at
Sir John sprang to his feet, but sank into the high table.
his chair again with a groan. “ I have locked him in the stable loft lest
“ Would that I were dead,” he cried, “ ere he talk too much,” said he, “ for my

“ ‘ W OU LD T H A T I W E R E D E A D , ’ H E C R I E D . ”

I saw' dishonour come questions must have shown him whence the
upon my house, and wind blew. It was indeed from this man
w'as so tied with this that the note came, and he had brought with
accursed foot that I can him a spare horse for the lady.”
neither examine if it be The old knight groaned, and his face sank
true nor yet avenge it. upon his hands.
If my son Oliver were “ Nay, father, they watch you ! ” whispered
here then all would be well. Send me this Mary. “ For the honour of our house let us
stable varlet that I may question him.” keep a bold face to all.” Then, raising her
“ I pray you, fair and honoured sir,” said young, clear voice so that it sounded through
Nigel, “ that you will take me for your son this the room: “ If you ride eastwards, Nigel, I
night, that I may handle this matter in the would fain go with you, that my sister may
way which seems best. On jeopardy of my not come back alone.”
honour I will do all that a man may.” “ We will ride together, Mary,” said Nigel,
“ Nigel, I thank you. There is no man in rising ; then, in a lower voice, “ But we can­
Christendom to whom I would sooner turn.” not go alone, and if we take a servant all is
“ But I would learn your mind in one known. I pray you to stay at home and
matter, fair sir. This man, Paul de la Fosse, leave the matter with me.”
owns broad acres, as I understand, and “ Nay, Nigel, she may sorely need a
comes of noble blood. There is no reason, if woman’s aid, and what woman should it be
things be as we fear, that he should not marry save her own sister? 1 can take my tire­
your daughter ? ” woman with us,”
 372 TH E ST R A N D M AG AZIN E.

“ Nay, I shall ride with you myself if your held favour with the King, so that his
impatience can keep within the powers of my neighbours feared to push things too far
mule,” said the old priest. against him. Such was the man, malignant
“ But it is not your road, father ? ” and ravenous, who had stooped like some
“ The only road of a true priest is that foul night-hawk and borne away to his evil
which leads to the good of others. Come, nest the golden beauty of Cosford. Nigel
my children, and we will go together.” said little as he listened, but he raised his
And so it was that stout Sir John Buttes- hunting dagger to his tightened lips and
thorn, the aged Knight of Dupplin, was left thrice he kissed the cross of its handle.
alone at his own high table, pretending to They had passed over the moors and
eat, pretending to drink, fidgeting in his seat, through the village of Milford and the little
trying hard to seem unconcerned, with his township of Godaiming, until their path
mind and body in a fever, while below him turned southwards over the Pease Marsh
his varlets and handmaids laughed and jested, and crossed the meadows of Shalford.
clattering their cups and clearing their There on the dark hillside glowed the red
trenchers, all unconscious of the dark shadow points of light which marked the windows of
which threw its gloom over the lonely man the house which they sought. A sombre
upon the dais above. arched avenue of oak trees led up to it, and
Meantime the Lady Mary upon the white then they were in the moon-silvered clearing
jennet which her sister had ridden on the in front. From the shadow of the arched
same evening, Nigel on his war-horse, and the door there sprang two rough serving-men,
priest on the mule clattered down the rude bearded and gruff, great cudgels in their
winding road which led to London. The hands, to ask them who they were and what
country on either side was a wilderness of their errand. The Lady Mary had slipped
heather moors and morasses,
from w hich cam e 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 the man
whom they followed. His
house at Shalford was a den
of profligacy and vice. No
woman could cross that
threshold and depart un­
stained. 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 house­
hold ; again and again his
adroit tongue and his cun­
ning wit had in some fashion
saved him from the punish­
ment of his deeds. His
family was great in the
T H E L A D Y M A R Y H A D S L I P P E D FROM H E R HO RSK A N D W A S A D V A N C I N G TO T H E
county, and his kinsmen DOOR, B U T T H E Y R U D E L Y B A R K E D H E R W A Y . ”
 SIR N IG E L. 373

from her horse and was advancing to the forehead, the forehead of a thinker, with two
door, but they rudely barred her way. deep-set, cold grey eyes twinkling sharply
“ Nay, n a y ; our master needs no more,” from under tufted brows. His nose was
cried one, with a hoarse laugh. “ Stand curved and sharp, like the beak of some
back, mistress, whoever you be. The house cruel bird, but below the whole of his clean­
is shut, and our lord sees no guests to-night.” shaven, powerful face was marred by the
“ Fellow,” said Nigel, speaking low and loose, slabbing mouth and the round folds
clear, “ stand back from us. Our errand is of the heavy chin. His knife in one hand
with your master.” and a half-gnawed bone in the other, he
“ Bethink you, my children,” cried the old looked fiercely up, like some beast disturbed
priest, “ would it not be best, perchance, that in his den, as the two intruders broke in
I go in to him, and see whether the voice of upon his hall.
the Church may not soften this hard heart ? Nigel stopped midway between the door
I fear bloodshed if you enter.” and the table. His eyes and those of
“ Nay, father, I pray you to stay here for Paul de la Fosse were riveted upon each
the nonce,” said Nigel. “ And you, Mary, other. But Mary, with her woman’s soul
do you bide with the good priest, for we flooded over with love and pity, had rushed
know not what may be within.” forward and cast her arms round her younger
Again he turned to the door, and again sister. Edith had sprung up from her chair
the two men barred his passage. and, with averted face, tried to push the
“ Stand back, I say, back for your lives,” other away from her.
said Nigel. “ By St. P au l! I should think it “ Edith ! Edith ! By the Virgin I implore
shame to soil my sword with such as you, you to come back with us, and to leave this
but my soul is set, and no man shall bar my wicked man ! ” cried Mary. “ Dear sister,
path this night.” you would not break our father’s heart, nor
The men shrank from the deadly menace bring his grey head in dishonour to the
of that gentle voice. grave ! Come back, Edith ; come back and
“ Hold ! ” said one of them, peering all is well.”
through the darkness; “ is it not Squire But Edith pushed her away, and her fair
Coring of Til ford ? ” cheeks were flushed with her anger.
“ That is indeed my name.” “ What right have you over me, Mary,
“ Had you spoken it I, for one, would not you who are but two years older, that you
have stopped your way. Put down your should follow me over the countryside as
staff, Wat, for this is no stranger, but the though I were a runagate villein and you my
Squire of Tilford.” mistress ? Do you yourself go back, and
“ As well for him,” grumbled the other, leave me to do that which seems best in my
lowering his cudgel with an inward prayer of own eyes.”
thanksgiving. “ Had it been otherwise I But Mary still held her in her arms, and
should have had blood upon my soul to­ still strove to soften the hard and angry heart.
night. But our master said nothing of neigh­ “ Our mother is dead, Edith. I thank God
bours when he ordered us to hold the door. that she died ere she saw you under this roof.
I will enter and ask him what is his will.” But I stand for her, as I have done all my
But already Nigel was past them, and had life, since I am indeed your elder. It is with
pushed open the outer door. Swift as he her voice that I beg and pray you that you
was the I^ady Mary was at his very heels, and will not trust this man farther, and that you
the two passed together into the hall beyond. will come back ere it be too late.”
It was a great room, draped and curtained Edith writhed from her grasp, and stood
with black shadows, with one vivid circle of flushed and defiant, with gleaming, angry eyes
light in the centre, where two oil lamps fixed upon her sister.
shone upon a small table. A meal was laid “ You may speak evil of him now,” said
upon the table, but only two were seated at she, “ but there was a time when Paul de la
it, and there were no servants in the room. Fosse came to Cosford, and who so gentle
At the near end was Kdith, her golden hair and soft-spoken to him then as wise, grave
loose and streaming down over the scarlet sister Mary ? But he has learned to love
and black of her riding dress. At the far­ another, so now he is the wicked man, and it
ther end the light beat strongly upon the is shame to be seen under his ro o f! From
harsh face and the high-drawn, misshapen what I see of my good, pious sister and her
shoulders of the lord of the house. A tangle cavalier it is sin for another to ride at night
of black hair surmounted a high rounded with a man at your side, but it comes easy
 374 TH E S TEA N D M A G A ZIN E .

enough to you. Look at your own eye, good ruined others before you with it. The man
sister, ere you would take the speck from that has no brother at St. Albans. I know his
of another.” brothers well, and there is no priest among
Mary stood irresolute and greatly troubled, them. Before Monday, when it is all too
holding down her pride and her anger, but late, you will have found the truth as others
uncertain how best to deal with this strong, have done before you. Trust him not, but
wayward spirit. come with us ! ”
“ It is not a time for bitter words, dear Paul de la Fosse looked up at her with a
sister,” said sh e; and again she laid her hand quick smile and patted the hand upon his
upon her sister’s sleeve. “ All that you say shoulder.
may be true. There was indeed a time when “ Do you speak to them, Edith,” said he.
this man was friend to us both, and I know Her eyes flashed with scorn as she surveyed
even as you do the power which he may have them each in turn— the woman, the youth,
to win a woman’s heart. But I know him now and the priest.
and you do not. I know the evil that he has “ I have but one word to say to them,”
wrought, the dishonour that he has brought, said she. “ It is that they go hence and
the perjury that lies upon his soul, the trouble us no more. Am I not a free
confidence betrayed, the promise unfulfilled— woman ? Have I not said that this is the
all this I know. Am I to see my own sister only man I ever loved ? I have loved him
caught in the same well-used trap ? Has it long. He did not know it, and in despair he
shut upon you, child ? Am I, indeed, already turned to another. Now he knows all, and
too late ? For God’s sake tell me, Edith, never again can doubt come between us.
that it is not so ! ” Therefore I will stay here at Shalford, and
Edith plucked her sleeve from her sister come to Cosford no more save upon the arm
and made two swift steps to the head of of my husband. Am I so weak that I would
the table. Paul de la Fosse still sat silent, believe the tales you tell against him ? Is it
with his eyes upon Nigel. Edith laid her hard for a jealous woman and a wandering
hand upon his shoulder. priest to agree upon a lie? No, no, M ary;
“ This is the man I love, and the only you can go hence and take your cavalier and
man that I have ever loved. This is my your priest with you, for here I stay true to
husband,” said she. my love, and safe in my trust upon his
At the word Mary gave a cry of joy. honour.”
“ And is it so ? ” she cried. “ Nay, then “ Well spoken, on my faith, my golden
all is in honour, and God will see to the rest. bird,” said the little Master of Shalford.
If you are man and wife before the altar, “ Let me add my own word to that which has
then, indeed, why should I, or any other, been said. You would not grant me any
stand between you ? Tell me that it is virtue in your unkindly speech, good Lady
indeed so, and I return this moment to Mary, and yet you must needs confess that at
make your father a happy man." least I have good store of patience, since I
Edith pouted like a naughty child. have not set my dogs upon your friends who
“ We are man and wife in the eyes of God. have come between me and my ease. But
Soon also we shall be wedded before all the even to the most virtuous there comes at last
world. We do but wait until next Monday, a time when poor human frailty may prevail,
when Paul’s brother, who is a priest at St. and so I pray you to remove both yourself,
Albans, will come to wed us. Already a your priest, and your valiant knight-errant of
messenger has sped for him, and he will Tilford, lest, perhaps, there be more haste
come, will he not, dear love ? ” and less dignity when at last you do take
“ He will come,” said the Master of your leave. Sit down, my fair love, and let
Shalford, still with his eyes fixed upon the us turn once more to our supper.” He
silent Nigel. motioned her to her chair and he filled her
“ It is a lie ; he will not come,” said a wine-cup as well as his own.
voice from the door. Nigel had said no word since he had
It was the old priest, who had followed the entered the room, but his look had never lost
others as far as the threshold. its set purpose, nor had his brooding eyes
“ He will not come,” he repeated, as he ever wandered from the sneering face of the
advanced into the room. “ Daughter, my deformed Master of Shalford. Now he
daughter, hearken to the words of one who turned with swift decision to Mary and to
is indeed old enough to be your earthly the priest.
father. This lie has served before. He has “ That is over,” said he, in a low voice.
 SIR N IG E L. 375

“ You have done all that you could, and By St. Paul ! I swear to you that this
now it is for me to play my part as well matter lies between us three, and that if any
as I am able. I pray you, Mary, and fourth comes at your call you, at least, shall
you, good father, that you will await me never live to see what comes of it. Speak
outside.” then, Paul of Shalford! Will you wed this
“ Nay, Nigel, if there is danger------” woman now, or will you not ? ”
“ It is easier for me, Mary, if you are not Edith was on her feet with outstretched
there. I pray you to go. I can speak to arms between them.
this man more at my ease.” “ Stand back, Nigel! He is small and
She looked at him with questioning eyes weak. You would not do him a hurt. Did
and then obeyed. Nigel plucked at the you not say so this very day? P'or God’s
priest’s gown. sake, Nigel, do not look at him so ! There
“ I pray you, father, have you your book of is death in your eyes.”
offices with you ? ” “ A snake may be small and weak, Edith,
“ Surely, Nigel, it is ever in my breast.” yet every honest man would place his heel
“ Have it ready, father ! ” upon it. Do you stand back yourself, for my
“ For what, my son ? ” purpose is set.”
“ There are two places you may mark. “ Paul ! ” She turned her eyes to the pale,
There is the service of marriage and there sneering face. “ Bethink you, Paul ! Why
is the prayer for the dying. Go with her, should you not do what he asks ? What
father, and be ready at my call.” matter to you whether it be now or on
He closed the door behind them and was Monday ? I pray you, dear Paul, for my
alone with this ill-matched couple. They sake let him have his way. Your brother can
both turned in their chairs to look at him, read the service again if it so please him.
Edith with a defiant face, the man with a Let us wed now, Paul, and then all is well.”
bitter smile upon his lips and malignant He had risen from his chair, and he dashed
hatred in his eyes. aside her ap­
“ W h a t !” said he, ‘ ‘ the pealing hands.
knight-errant still lingers ! Have “ You foolish
we not heard of his thirst for w o m a n ! ” he
glory ? What new venture snarled, “ and
does he see that he should you, my saviour
tarry here ? ” of fair damsels,
Nigel walked to the table. who are so bold
“ 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 gain­
say 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 d o ?”
“ 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 ! you dog! ’ hf. w h is p e r e d , ‘ i h a v e you a t m y m e r c y , ”
 376 TH E S IX AN D M AGAZIN E.

against a cripple, you have both to learn sweat gleamed upon his high forehead.
that if my body be weak there is the soul of There was terror in his eyes.
my breed within it. To marry because a “ Nay, take your knife from me 1 ” he cried.
boasting, ranting, country squire would have “ I cannot die like a calf in the shambles.”
me do so— no, by the soul of God, I will die “ Will you marry ? ”
first ! On Monday I will marry, and no day “ Yes, y e s; I will wed her. After all she
sooner, so let that be your answer.” is a good wench, and I might do worse. Let
“ It is the answer that I wished,” said me up. I tell you I will marry her. What
Nigel, “ for indeed I see no happiness in more would you have?”
this marriage, and the other may well be Nigel stood above him with his foot upon
the better way. Stand aside, Edith ! ” He his misshapen body. He had picked up his
gently forced her to one side and drew his sword, and the point rested upon the cripple’s
sword. De la Fosse cried aloud at the sight. breast.
“ I have no sword. You would not “ Nay, you will bide where you are ! If
murder m e ! ” said he, leaning back, with you are to live—and my conscience cries
haggard face and burning eyes, against his loud against it—at least your wedding will be
chair. The bright steel shone in the lamp­ such as your sins have deserved. Lie there,
light. Edith shrank back, her hand over like the crushed worm that you are.” Then
her face. he raised his voice. “ Father Athanasius ! ”
“ Take this sword,” said Nigel, and he he cried. “ What ho ! Father Athanasius ! ”
turned the hilt to the cripple. “ N o w !” he The old priest ran to the cry, and so did the
added, as he drew his hunting-knife. “ Kill Lady Mary. A strange sight it was that met
me if you can, Paul de la Fosse, for, as God them now in the circle of light—the frightened
is my help, I will do as much for you.” girl, half unconscious against the table, the
The woman, half swooning, and yet spell­ prostrate cripple, and Nigel with foot and
bound and fascinated, looked on at that sword upon his body.
strange combat. For a moment the cripple “ Your book, father,” cried Nigel. “ I know
stood with an air of doubt, the sword grasped not if what we do is good or ill, but we must
in his nerveless fingers. Then, as he saw the wed them, for there is no way out.”
tiny blade in Nigel’s hand, the greatness of But the girl by the table had given a great
the advantage came home to him, and a cry, and she was clinging and sobbing with
cruel smile tightened his loose lips. Slowly, her arms round her sister’s neck.
step by step, he advanced, his chin sunk upon “ Oh, Mary, I thank the Virgin that you
his chest, his eyes glaring from under the have come ; I thank the Virgin that it is not
thick tangle of his brows like fires through too late ! What did he say ? He said that
the brushwood. Nigel waited for him, his he was a de la Fosse, and that he would not
left hand forward, his knife down by his hip, be married at the sword-point. My heart
his face grave, still, and watchful. Nearer went out to him when he said it. But I —
and nearer yet with stealthy step, and then am I not a Buttesthorn, and shall it be said
with a bound and a cry of hatred and rage that I would marry a man who could be led
Paul de la Fosse had sped his blow. It was to the altar with a knife at his throat ? No,
well judged and well swung, but point would n o ; I see him as he i s ! I know him now,
have been wiser than edge against that supple the mean spirit, the lying tongue. Can I not
body and those active feet. Quick as a flash read in his eyes that he has indeed deceived
Nigel had sprung inside the sweep of the me, that he would have left me as you say
blade, taking a flesh wound on his left fore­ that he has left others? Take me home,
arm as he pressed it under the hilt. The Mary, my sister, for you have plucked me
next instant the cripple was on the ground, back this night from the very mouth of hell.”
and Nigel’s dagger was at his throat. And so it was that the Master of Shalford,
“ You dog ! ” he whispered. “ I have you livid and brooding, was left with his wine at
at my mercy. Quick, ere I strike, and for his lonely table, while the golden beauty of
the last time ! Will you marry or no ? ” Cosford, hot with shame and anger, her fair
The crash of the fall and the sharp point face wet with tears, passed out safe from the
upon his throat had cowed the man’s spirit. house of infamy into the great calm and
He looked up with a white face, and the peace of the starry night.

( To be continued.)
“ QUIC K, A Y L W A R D , Q U I C K ! ” IIE SAID. “ IIE COMES— A K N IG IIT -E R R A N T C O M E S ! ”

( S e e pa g e 493.)
 T he St r a n d M agazine.
Vol. xxxi. MAY, 1906. No. 185.

SIR NIGEL.
B y A . C O N A N D O Y L E .

C H A P T E R X III. might well be proud to have in his train. All

HOW T H E CO M RAD ES JO U R N E Y E D DOWN Tilford trailed behind them, as they rode
T H E OLD, OLD ROAD. slowly over the long slope of heathland which
ND now the season of the skirts the flank of Crooksbury Hill. At the
moonless nights was drawing summit of the rise Nigel reined in Pommers
nigh, and the King's design and looked back at the little village behind
was ripe. Very secretly his him. There was the old dark manor-house,
preparations were made. A l­ with one bent figure leaning upon a stick and
ready the garrison of Calais, gazing dimly after him from beside the door.
which consisted of five hundred archers and He looked at the high-pitched roof, the
two hundred men-at-arms, could, if fore­ timbered walls, the long trail of swirling
warned, resist any attack made upon it. blue smoke which rose from the single
But it was the King’s design, not merely to chimney, and the group of downcast old
resist the attack, but to capture the attackers. servants who lingered at the gate— John the
Above all it was his wish to find the occasion cook, Weathercote the minstrel, and Red
for one of those adventurous passages of Swire the broken soldier. Over the river
arms which had made his name famous amid the trees he could see the grim, grey
throughout Christendom as the very pattern tower of Waverley, and even as he looked
and leader of knight-errant chivalry. the iron bell, which had so often seemed to
But the affair wanted careful handling. be the hoarse, threatening cry of an enemy,
The arrival of any reinforcements, or even clanged out its call to prayer. Nigel doffed
the crossing of any famous soldier, would his velvet cap and prayed also— prayed that
have alarmed the French and warned them peace might remain at home, and good
that their plot had been discovered. There­ warfare, in which honour and fame should
fore it was in twos and threes, in the creyers await him, might still be found abroad.
and provision ships which were continually Then, waving his hand to the people, he
passing from shore to shore, that the chosen turned his horse’s head and rode slowly east­
warriors and their squires were brought to ward. A moment later Aylward broke from
Calais. There they were passed at night the group of archers and laughing girls who
through the water-gate into the castle, where clung to his bridle and his stirrup-straps, and
they could lie hid, unknown to the townsfolk, rode on blowing kisses over his shoulder.
until the hour for action had come. So at last the two comrades, gentle and
Nigel had received word from Chandos to simple, were fairly started on their venture.
join him at The Sign of the Broom-Pod in There are two seasons of colour in those
Winchelsea. Three days beforehand he and parts—the yellow, when the countryside is
Aylward rode from Tilford all armed and flaming with the gorse blossoms ; and the
ready for the wars. Nigel was in hunting crimson, when all the long slopes are
costume, blithe and gay, with his precious smouldering with the heather. So it was
armour and his small baggage trussed upon now. Nigel looked back from time to time
ihe back of a spare horse, which Aylward led as he rode along the narrow track where the
by the bridle. The archer had himself a ferns and the ling brushed his feet on either
good black mare, heavy and slow, but strong side, and as he looked it seemed to him that,
enough to be fit to carry his powerful frame. wander where he might, he would never see a
In his brigandine of chain mail and his steel fairer scene than that of his own home. Far
cap, with straight strong sword by his side, his to the westward, glowing in the morning light,
yellow long-bow jutting over his shoulder, and rolled billow after billow of ruddy heather-
his quiver of arrows supported by a scarlet land, until they merged into the dark shadows
baldric, he was such a warrior as any knight of Woolmer Forest, and the pale, clear green
Vol. xxxi. —61 Copyright, 1906, by A. Conan Doyle, in the United States of America.
 484 ThE STRAND M A G A ZIN E .

mood of his master. Pre­

sently glancing back he
saw from Aylward’s down­
cast eyes and puckered
brow that the archer was
clouded with trouble. He
reined his horse to let
him come abreast of him.
“ How now, Ayhvard ! ”
said he. “ Surely of all
men in England you and
I should be the most
blithe this morning, since
we ride forward with all
h opes o f h o n o u rab le
a d v an c e m e n t. By St.
P a u l! ere we see these
heather hills once more
we shall either worship-
fully win worship, or we
shall venture our persons
in the attempt. These be
glad thoughts, and why
should you be downcast ?”
Aylward sh;ugged his
broad shoulders, and a
wry smile dawned upon
his rugged face.
“ I am indeed as limp
as a wetted bow-string,”
said he. “ It is the nature
of a man that he should
be sad when he leaves the
woman he loves.”
“ In truth y e s !” cried
of the Butser chalk downs. Never in his life Nigel, and in a flash the dark eyes of Mary
had Nigel wandered far beyond these limits, Buttesthorn rose before him, and he heard
and the woodlands, the down, and the heather her low, sweet, earnest voice as he had heard
were dear to his soul. It gave him a pang in it that night when they brought her frailer
his heart now as he turned his face away from sister back from Shalford Manor— a voice
them, but if home lay to the westward, out which made all that was best and noblest in
there to the eastward wras the great world of a man thrill within his soul. “ Yet, bethink
adventure, the noble stage where each of his you, archer, that what a woman loves in man
kinsmen in turn had played his manly part is not his gross body, but rather his soul, his
and left a proud name behind. How often honour, his (lime, the deeds with which he
he had longed for this d a y ! And now it had has made his life beautiful. Therefore you
come with no shadow cast behind it. Dame are winning love as well as glory when you
Ermyntrude was under the King’s protection. turn to the wars.”
The old servants had their future assured. “ It may be so,” said Aylward, “ but
The strife with the monks of Waverley had indeed it goes to my heart to see the pretty
been assuaged. He had a noble horse under dears weep, and I would fain weep as well to
him, the best of weapons, and a stout keep them company. When Mary— or was
follower at his back. Above all, he was it Dolly ?—nay, it was Martha, the red headed
bound on a gallant errand, with the bravest girl from the mill— when she held tight to my
knight in England as his leader. All these baldric, it was like snapping my heartstring
thoughts surged together in his mind, and to pluck myself loose.”
he whistled and sang as he rode out of “ You speak of one name and then of
the joy of his heart, while Pommers another,” said Nigel. “ How is she called,
sidled and curveted in sympathy with the then, this maid whom you lo v e ?”
 SIR N IG E L. 485

Aylward pushed back his steel cap and waited here this hour and more on the chance
scratched his bristling head with some of seeing you pass. Come, lad, and have a
embarrassment. last stoup of English ale, for many a time
“ Her name,” said he, “ is Mary Dolly amid the sour French wines you will long for
Martha Susan Jane Cicely Theodosia Agnes the white foam under your nose, and the
Johanna Kate.” good homely twang of it.”
Nigel laughed as Aylward rolled out this Nigel had to decline the draught, for it
prodigious title. meant riding into Guildford Town, a mile
“ 1 had no right to take you to the wars,” out of his course, but very gladly he agreed
said he, “ for, by St. Paul, it is very clear with Mary that they should climb the path
that I have widowed half the parish ! But I to the old shrine and offer a last orison
saw your aged father the. franklin. Bethink together. The knight and Aylward waited
you of the joy which will fill his heart when below with the horses, and so it came about
he hears that you have done some small deed that Nigel and Mary found themselves alone
in France, and so won honour in the eyes under the solemn old Gothic arches, in front
of all.” of the dark - shadowed recess in which
“ I fear that honour will not help him to gleamed the golden reliquary of the saint.
pay his arrears of rent to the sacrist of In silence they knelt side by side in prayer,
Waverley,” said Aylward. “ Out he will go and then came forth once more out of the
on the roadside, honour and all, if he does gloom and the shadow into the fresh sunlit
not find ten nobles by next Epiphany. But summer morning. They stopped ere they
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 good-bye.
Ah ! it would indeed be a
happy day for him and for
all if I could ride back with
a saddlebag full of gold
pieces, and, please God, I
shall dip my hand in some­
body’s pocket before I see
C ro o k sb u ry H ill 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 St. Catherine 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 way­
farers 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 bay cob which he bestrode.
“ What ho, N ig e l!” he cried.
“ Mary has told me that you make
a start this morning, and we have “ IN S I L E N C E T H E Y K N E L T S I D E B Y S I D E IN B K A Y E K . ”
 486 TH E ST R A N D M A G A ZIN E .

descended the path, and looked to right and the holy Catherine, on this the Feast of St.
left at the fair meadows and the blue Wey Margaret, 1 take my oath that I will do three
curling down the valley. deeds in your honour, as a proof of my high
“ What have you prayed for, N ig e l?” love, before I set eyes upon your face again ;
said she. and these three deeds shall stand as a proof
“ I have prayed that God and His saints to you that if I love you dearly still I will
will hold my spirit high and will send me not let the thought of you stand betwixt me
back from France in such a fashion that I and honourable achievement.”
may dare to come to you and to claim you Her face shone with her love and her
for my own.” pride.
“ Bethink you well what it is that you say, “ I also make my oath,” said she, “ and I
Nigel,” said she. “ What you are to me do it in the name of the holy Catherine
only my own heart can tell, but I would never whose shrine is hard by. I swear that I will
set eyes upon your face again rather than hold myself for you until these three deeds
abate by one inch that height of honour and be done and we meet once more.; also that
worshipful achievement to which you may if— which may dear Christ forefend—you fall
attain.” in doing them, then I shall take the veil in
“ Nay, my dear and most sweet lady, how Shalford nunnery and look upon no man’s
should you abate it, since it is the thought of face again. Give me your hand, Nigel.”
you which will nerve my arm and uphold my She had taken a little bangle of gold
heart ? ” filigree work from her arm, and she fastened
“ Think once more, my fair lord, and hold it upon his sunburned wrist, reading aloud
yourself bound by no word which you have to him the engraved motto in old French :
said. Let it be as the breeze which blows “ Fais ce que dois adviegne que pourra c’est
past our faces and is heard of no more. command^ au chevalier.” Then for one
Your soul yearns for honour. To that has it moment they fell into each other’s arms and,
ever turned. Is there room in it for love with kiss upon kiss, a loving man and a
also, or is it possible that both shall live at tender woman, they swore their troth to
their highest in one mind? Do you not call each other. But the old knight wras calling
to mind that Galahad and other great impatiently from below, and together they
knights of old have put women out of their hurried down the winding path to where the
lives that they might ever give their whole horses waited under the sandy bluff.
soul and strength to the winning of honour ? As far as the Shalford crossing Sir John
May it not be that I shall be a drag upon rode by Nigel’s arm, and many were the last
you, that your heart may shrink from some injunctions which he gave him concerning
honourable task, lest it should bring risk and woodcraft, and great his anxiety lest he con­
pain to me ? Think well before you answer, fuse a spayad with a brocket or either with a
my fair lord, for indeed my very heart would hind. At last, when they came to the reedy
break if it should ever happen that through edge of the Wey, the old knight and his
love of me your high hopes and great promise daughter reined up their horses. Nigel
should miss fulfilment.” looked back at them ere he entered the dark
Nigel looked at her with sparkling eyes. Chantry Woods, and saw them still gazing
The soul which shone through her dark face after him and waving their hands. Then the
had transformed it into a beauty more lofty path wound amongst the trees and they were
and more rare than that of her shallow sister. lost to sight, but long afterwards, when a
He bowed before the majesty of the woman clearing exposed once more the Shalford
and pressed his lips to her hand. meadows, Nigel saw that the old man upon
“ You are like a star upon my path which the bay cob was riding slowly towards St.
guides me on the upward way,” said he. Catherine’s Hill, but that the girl w'as still
“ Our souls are set together upon the finding where he had seen her last, leaning forward
of honour, and how shall we hold each other in her saddle and straining her eyes to pierce
back when our purpose is the same ? ” the dark forest which screened her lover
She shook her proud head. from her view. It was but a fleeting glance
“ So it seems to you now, fair lord, but it through a break in the foliage, and yet in
may be otherwise as the years pass. How after-days of stress and toil m far distant
shall you prove that I am indeed a help and lands it was that one little picture—the
not a hindrance ? ” green meadow, the reeds, the slow, blue-wind
“ I will prove it by my deeds, fair and dear ing river, and the eager, bending, graceful
lady,” said Nigel. “ Here at the shrine of figure upon the white horse—which was
 S/E N IG EL. 487

the dearest and the dearest image of that great beech tree. Nay, I pray you, my fair
England which he had left behind him. lord, do not ride fonvard. What chance has
But if Nigel's friends had learned that this a man in the open against all these who lie
was the morning of his leaving, his enemies, at their ease in the underwood ? If you will
too, were on the alert. The two comrades not think of yourself then consider your horse,
had just emerged from the Chantry Woods which w'ould have a clothyard shaft feathered
and were beginning the ascent of that curv­ in its hide ere it could reach the wood.”
ing path which leads upwards to the old Nigel chafed in impotent anger.
Chapel of the “ Am I to be
M arty r when, shot at like a
with a hiss like p o p in ja y at a
an angry snake, fair, by any riever
a lo n g w hite or outlaw that
arrow' streaked seeks a mark for
under Pommers his bow' ? ” he
and stuck quiver­ cried. “ By St.
ing in the grassy Paul ! Aylward,
turf. A second I will put on my
w hizzed past harness and go
Nigel's ear as he further into the
tried to turn ; m atter. H elp
but A ylw ard me to untruss,
struck the great I pray you ! ”
war-horse a sharp “ Nay, my fair
blow' over the lord, I will not
haunches, and it help you to your
had g a llo p e d own downfall. It
some hundreds is a match with
of yards before cogged dice be­
its rider could twixt a horseman
pull it up. Ayl­ on the moor and
ward followed as archers amid the
hard as he could forest. But these
rid e , b en d in g men are no out­
low o v e r h is law s, or they
h o rse ’ s n eck, would not dare
w h ile arrow s to draw their
w h i z z e d all bows within a
round him. league of the
“ BySt. Paul!” Sheriff of Guild­
said Nigel, lug­ ford.”
ging at his bridle “ Indeed, Ayl­
and w'hite with ward, I think
a n g e r , “ they that you speak
shall not chase t r u t h ,” s a i d
me across the Nigel. “ It may
country as be that these are
A L O N G W 'H I T E ARROW’ S T R E A K E D U N D E R P O M M E R S A N D S T U C K Q U I V E R I N G
though I was a IN T H E G R A S S Y T U R F . ” the men of Paul
frightened doe. de la Fosse of
Archer, how dare you to lash my horse when Shalford, whom I have given little cause to
1 would have turned and ridden in upon love me. Ah ! there is indeed the very man
them ? ” himself.”
“ It is well that I did so,” said Aylward, They sat their horses with their backs to
“ or by these ten finger-bones our journey the long slope which leads up to the old
would have begun and ended on the same chapel on the hill. In front of them was
day ! As I glanced round I saw a dozen of the dark, ragged edge of the wood, with a
them at the least amongst the brushwood. sharp twinkle of steel here and there in its
See now how the light glimmers upon their shadows which spoke of these lurking foes.
steel caps yonder in the bracken under the But now there was a long moot upon a horn,
 488 TH E ST R A N D M AG AZIN E.

and at once a score of russet-clad bowmen bow that the arrow quivered in the ground
ran forward from amid the trees, spreading at Aylward’s very feet.
out into a scattered line and closing swiftly in “ It is Black Will of Lynchmere,” said the
upon the travellers. In the midst of them, bowman. “ Many a match have I shot with
upon a great grey horse, sat a small, misshapen him, and I know well that no other man on
man, waving and cheering as one sets hounds the Surrey marches could have sped such a
on a badger, turning his head this way and shaft. I trust that you are houselled and
that as he whooped and pointed, urging his shriven, Will, for I have known you so long
bowmen onwards up the slope. that I would not have your damnation upon
“ Draw them on, my fair lord, draw them my soul.”
on until we have them out on the down ! ” He raised his bow as he spoke, and the
cried Aylward, his eyes shining with joy. string twanged with a rich, deep, musical
“ Five hundred paces more, and then we note. Aylward leaned upon his bow stave as
may be on terms with them. Nay, linger he keenly watched the long, swift flight of his
not, but keep them always just clear of shaft, skimming smoothly down the wind.
arrow-shot until our turn has come.” “ On him ! on him ! No, over him, by
Nigel shook and trembled with eagerness my hilt ! ” he cried. “ There is more wind
as, with his hand on his sword hilt, he looked than I had thought. Nay, nay, friend ; now
at the line of eager, hurrying men. But it that I have the length of you, you can scarce
flashed through his mind what Chandos had hope to loose again.”
said of the cool head, which is better for the Black Will had notched an arrow and was
warrior than the hot heart. Aylward’s words raising his bow when Aylward’s second shaft
were true and wise. He turned Pommers’s passed through the shoulder of his drawing
head, therefore, and, amid a cry of derision arm. With a shout of anger and pain he
from behind them, the domrades trotted over dropped his weapon and, dancing in his
the down. The bowmen broke into a run fury, shook his fist and roared curses at his
while their leader screamed and waved more rival.
madly than before. Aylward cast many a “ I could slay him, but I will not, for
glance at them over his shoulder. good bowmen are not so common,” said
“ Yet a little farther ! Yet a little farther Aylward. “ And now, fair sir, we must on,
still ! ” he muttered. “ The wind is towards for they are spreading round on either side,
them, and the fools have forgot that I can and if once they get behind us then, indeed,
overshoot them by fifty paces. Now, my our journey has come to a sudden end. But
good lord, I pray you for one instant to hold ere we go I would send a shaft through
the horses, for my weapon is of more avail yonder horseman who leads them on.”
this day than thine can be. They may make “ Nay, Aylward, I pray you to leave him,”
sorry cheer ere they gain the shelter of the said Nigel. “ Villain as he is, he is none the
wood once more.” less a gentleman of coat-armour, and should
He had sprung from his horse, and with die by some other weapon than thine.”
a downward wrench of his arm and a push “ As you will,” said Aylward, with a
with his knee he slipped the string into the clouded brow. “ I have been told that in
upper nock of his mighty war-bow. Then, the late wars many a French prince and
in a flash, he notched his shaft and drew it to baron has not been too proud to take his
the pile, his keen blue eyes glowing fiercely death-wound from an English yeoman’s shaft,
behind it from under his knotted brows. and that nobles of England have been glad
With thick legs planted sturdily apart, his enough to stand by and see it done.”
body laid to the bow, his left arm motionless Nigel shook his head sadly.
as wood, his right bunched into a double “ It is sooth you say, archer, and indeed
curve of swelling muscles as he stretched the it is no new thing, for that good knight
white, well-waxed string, he looked so keen Richard of the Lion Heart met his end in
and fierce a fighter that the advancing line such a lowly fashion, and so also did Harold
stopped for an instant at the sight of him. the Saxon. But this is a private matter, and
Two or three loosed off their arrows, but the I would not have you draw your bow against
shafts flew heavily against the head wind and him. Neither can I ride at him myself, for
snaked along the hard turf some score of he is weak in body, though dangerous in
paces short of the mark. One only, a spirit. Therefore, we will go upon our way,
short, bandy - legged man, whose squat since there is neither profit nor honour to be
figure spoke of enormous muscular strength, gained, nor any hope of advancement.”
ran swiftly in, and then drew so strong a Aylward having unstrung his bow had
 SIR N IG EL. 489

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 ex­
change. 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 chalkland
could a clear track be found.
“ The Pilgrims’ 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
gave a new reason why folk
should journey to the scene of
his murder.
From the hill of Weston Wood
the travellers 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 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
W I T H A S H O U T OF A N G E R A N D FAIN H E DROPPED HIS WEAPON.
which passed before them. To
their left was a hilly country, a
remounted his horse during this conversation, land of rolling heaths and woods, broken here
and the two rode swiftly past the little squat and there intoopen spaces round theoccasional
Chapel of the Martyr, and over the brow of farmhouse of a franklin. Hackhurst Down,
the hill. From the summit they looked back. Dunley Hill, and Ranmore Common swelled
The injured archer lay upon the ground, with and sank, each merging into the other. But
several of his comrades gathered in a knot on the right, after passing the village of Shere
around him. Others ran aimlessly up the and the old church of Gomshall, the whole
hill, but were already far behind. The leader south country lay like a map at their feet.
sat motionless upon his horse, and as he saw There was the huge wood of the Weald, one
them look back he raised his hand and unbroken forest of oak trees stretching away
shrieked his curses at them. An instant to the South Downs, which rose olive-green
later the curve of the ground had hid them against the deep blue sky. Under this great
from view. So, amid love and hate, Nigel canopy of trees strange folk lived and evil
bade adieu to the home of his youth. deeds were done. In its recesses were wild
And now the comrades were journeying tribes, little changed from their heathen
upon that old, old road which runs across the ancestors who danced round the altar of
south of England and yet never turns towards T h o r; and well was it for the peaceful
London, for the good reason that the place traveller that he could tread the high open
was a poor hamlet when first the road was road of the chalkland with no need to
laid. From Winchester, the Saxon capital, to wander into so dangerous a tract, where soft
Canterbury, the holy city of Kent, ran that clay, tangled forest, and wild men all barred
ancient highway, and on from Canterbury to his progress.
the narrow Straits where, on a clear day, the But apart from the rolling country upon
Vol. xxxi.—6 2 .
 490 TH E STR A N D M A G A ZIN E .

the left, and the great forest-hidden plain eastward ; or if his head should be turned
upon the right, there was much upon the westward, then he bore with him the velvets
road itself to engage the attention of the of Genoa, the ware of Venice, the wine o f
wayfarers. It was crowded with people. France, or the armour of Italy and Spain.
So far as their eyes could carry, they Pilgrims were everywhere— poor people for
could see the black dots scattered thickly the most part — plodding
upon the thin white band, sometimes wearily along with trailing
single, sometimes several abreast, some­ feet and bowed heads,
times in moving crowds, where a drove thick staves in their hands,
of pilgrims held together for mutual pro­ and bundles over their
tection, or a sh o u ld e rs. H e re an d
nobleman there, on a gaily - capari­
show ed his soned palfrey or in the
greatness by greater luxury
the number of of a h orse-
retainers who litte r, som e
trailed at his West - country
heels. At that lady might be
time the main seen making
roads were very her easy way
cro w d ed , for to the shrine
t he r e we r e of St. Thomas.
many wander­ B e s id e s a l l
ing people in these a con­
the land. Of stant stream of
all sorts and strange vaga­
ki nds they bonds drifted
passed in an along the
unbroken road: minstrels
stream before who wandered
the eyes o f from fair to
Nigel and of fair, a foul and
Aylward, alike pestilent crew ;
only in the fact ju g g le r s an d
that one and acrobats,
all were pow­ quack doctors
d ered from a n d toot h -
their hair to d raw ers, stu­
th eir shoes dents and beg­
with the grey gars, free work
dust o f the men in search
chalk. There were monks journeying of better wages, and escaped bondsmen who
from one cell to another, Benedictines would welcome any wages at all. Such was
with their black gowns looped up to show the throng which set the old road smoking in
their white skirts, Carthusians in white, a haze of white dust from Winchester to the
and pied Cistercians. Friars also of the narrow sea.
three wandering orders — Dominicans in But of all the wayfarers those which
black, Carmelites in white, and Franciscans interested Nigel most were the soldiers.
in grey. There was no love lost between Several times they passed little knots of
the cloistered monks and the free friars, each archers or men at-arms, veterans from France,
looking on the other as a rival who took from who had received their discharge and were
him the oblations of the faithful, so they now making their way to their southland
passed on the high road as cat passes dog, homes. They were half drunk, all of them,
with eyes askance and angry faces. Then, for the wayfarers treated them to beer at the
besides the men of the Church, there were the frequent inns and ale-stakes which lined the
men of trade, the merchant in dusty broadcloth road, so that they cheered and sang lustily as
and Flanders hat riding at the head of his they passed. They roared rude pleasantries
line of pack-horses. He carried Cornish tin, at Aylward, who turned in his saddle and
West-country wool, or Sussex iron, if he traded shouted his opinion of them until they were
 SIR M G EL. 491

out of hearing. Once, late in the afternoon, with very different feelings— Nigel shocked
they overtook a body of a hundred archers at such an attack upon authority, and
all marching together, with two knights riding Aylward chuckling as he heard the senti­
at their head. They were passing from ments of his class so shrewdly expressed.
Guildford Castle to Reigate Castle, where At last the stranger halted his horse outside
they were in garrison. Nigel rode with the the Five Angels at Gatton.
knights for some distance, and hinted that if “ It is a good inn, and I know the ale of
either was in search of honourable advance­ old,” said he. “ When I had finished that
ment, or wished to do some small deed, or to dream of Piers the Ploughman which I have
relieve himself of any vow, it might be pos­ recited to you, the last verses were thus:—
sible to find some means of achieving it. Now have I brought my little booke to an ende ;
They were both, however, grave and elder God's blessing be on him who a drinke will me
men, intent upon their business and with no senile.
mind for fond wayside adventures, so Nigel I pray you come in with me and share it.”
quickened his pace and left them behind. “ Nay,” said Nigel, “ we must on our way,
They had left Boxhill and Headley Heath for we have far to go. But give me your
upon the left, and the towers of Reigate were name, my friend, for indeed we have passed
rising amid the trees in front of them, when a merry hour listening to your words.”
they overtook a large, cheery, red-faced man “ Have a care ! ” the stranger answered,
with a forked beard, riding upon a good shaking his head. “ You and your class will
horse and exchanging a nod or a merry word not spend a merry hour when these words
with all who passed him. With him they are turned into deeds, and Peter the Plough­
rode nearly as far as Bletchingley, and Nigel man grows weary of swinking in the fields,
laughed much to hear him talk, but always and takes up his bow and his staff in order
under the raillery there was much earnest­ to set this land in order.”
ness and much wisdom in all his words. He “ By St. P a u l! I expect that we shall
rode at his ease about the country’, he said, bring Peter to reason, and also those who
having sufficient money to keep him from have put such evil thoughts into his head,”
want and to furnish him for the road. He said Nigel. “ So once more I ask your name,
could speak all the three languages of that I may know it if ever I chance to hear
England—the north, the middle, and the that you have been hanged.”
south—so that he was at home with the The stranger laughed good-humouredly.
people of every shire, and could hear their “ You can call me Thomas Lackland,”
troubles and their joys. In all parts, in town said he. “ I should be Thomas Lack-brain
and in country, there was unrest, he said, for if I were indeed to give my true name, since
the poor folk were weary of their masters, a good many robbers, some in black gowns
both of the Church and State, and soon there and some in steel, would be glad to help me
would be such doings in England as had upwards in the way you speak of. So good
never been seen before. But above all this day to you, squire, and to you also, archer,
man was earnest against the Church, its and may you find your way back with whole
enormous wealth, its possession of nearly bones from the wars.”
one-third of the whole land of the country, That night the comrades slept at Godstone
its insatiable greed for more at the very time Priory, and early next morning they were
when it claimed to be poor and lowly. The well upon their road down the Pilgrims’ Way.
monks and friars, too, he lashed with his At Titsey it was said that a band of villeins
tongue : their roguish ways, their laziness, and were out in Westerham Wood, and had mur­
their cunning. He showed how their wealth dered three men the day before, so that
and that of the haughty lord must always be Nigel had high hopes of an encounter ; but
founded upon the toil of poor, humble Peter the brigands showed no sign, though the
the Ploughman, who worked and strove in travellers went out of thfeir way to ride their
rain and cold out in the fields, the butt and horses along the edges of the forest. Farther
laughing-stock of everyone, and still bearing on they found traces of their work, for the
up the whole world upon his weary shoulders. path ran along the hillside at the base of a
He had set it all out in a fair parable ; so chalk quarry, and there in the cutting a man
now as he rode he repeated some of the was lying dead. From his twisted limbs and
verses, chanting them and marking time with shattered frame it was easy to see that he had
his forefinger, while Nigel and Aylward on been thrown over from above, while his
either side of him, with their heads inclined pockets, turned outwards, showed the reason
inwards, listened with the same attention, but for his murder. The comrades rode past
 492 THE STR A N D M A G A ZIN E .

‘“ YOU CA N C A L L M E THO M AS LACKLAN D ,* SAID H E ."

without too close a survey, for dead men did they meet or overtake some occasional
were no- very uncommon objects on the merchant or messenger bound for Battle
King’s highway, and if sheriff or bailiff should Abbey, Pevensey Castle, or the towns of the
chance upon you near the body you might south. That night they slept in a sordid
find yourself caught in the meshes of the inn, overrun with rats and with fleas, one
law. mile south of the hamlet of Mayfield.
Near Sevenoaks their road turned out of Aylward scratched vigorously and cursed
the old Canterbury way and pointed south with fervour. Nigel lay without movement
towards the coast, leaving the chalklands and or sound. To the man who had learned the
coming down into the clay of the Weald. It old rule of chivalry there were no small ills
was a wretched, rutted mule-track running in life. It was beneath the dignity of his
through thick forests, with occasional clear­ soul to stoop to observe them. Cold and
ings in which lay the small Kentish villages, heat, hunger and thirst, such things did not
where rude, shock-headed peasants with exist for the gentleman. The armour of his
smocks and galligaskins stared with bold, soul was so complete that it was proof not
greedy eyes at the travellers. Once on the only against the great ills of life, but even
right they caught a distant view of the against the small ones, so die flea-bitten
towers of Penshurst, and once they heard Nigel lay grimly still while Aylward writhed
the deep tolling of the bells of Bayham upon his couch.
Abbey, but for the rest of their day’s journey They were now but a short distance from
savage peasants and squalid cottages were all their destination, but they had hardly started
that met their eyes, with endless droves of on their journey through the forest next
pigs who fed upon the litter of acorns. The morning when an adventure befell them
throng of travellers who crowded the old which filled Nigel with the wildest hopes.
road were all gone, and only here and there Along the narrow winding path between
 SIE N IG E L . 493

the great oak trees there rode a dark, sallow clear his path ere they be cleared from it.
man in a scarlet tabard, who blew so loudly Never in his dreams had so perfect a vision
upon a silver trumpet that they heard the come to cheer Nigel’s heart, and as he
clanging call long before they set eyes on him. struggled with his clothes, glancing up con­
Slowly he rode, pulling up every fifty paces tinually at this wondrous traveller, he pattered
to make the forest ring with another warlike forth prayers of thanksgiving to the good
blast. The comrades rode forward to meet St. Paul who had shown such loving kind­
him. ness to his unworthy servant and thrown him
“ I pray you," said Nigel, “ to tell me who in the path of so excellent and debonair a
you are and why you blow upon this trumpet?” gentleman.
The fellow shook his head, so Nigel repeated But, a las! how often at the last instant the
the question in French, the common language cup is dashed from the lips ! This joyful
of chivalry, spoken at that age by every chance was destined to change suddenly to
gentleman in Western Europe. unexpected and grotesque disaster—disaster
The man put his lips to the trumpet and so strange and so complete that through
blew another long note before he answered. all his life Nigel flushed crimson when he
“ I am Gaston de Castrier,” said he, “ the thought of it. He was busily stripping his
humble squire of the most worthy and valiant hunting costume, and with feverish haste he
knight, Raoul de Tubiers, de Pestels, de had doffed boots, hat, hose, doublet, and
Grimsard, de Mersae, de I^eoy, de Bastanac, cloak, so that nothing remained save a pink
who also writes himself Lord of Pons. It is jupon and pair of silken drawers. At the
his order that I ride always a mile in front of same time Aylward was hastily unbuckling
him to prepare all to receive him, and he the load with the intention of handing his
desires me to blow upon a trumpet, not out master his armour piece by piece, when the
of vainglory, but out of greatness of spirit, so squire gave one last challenging peal from
that none may be ignorant of his coming his silver trumpet into the very ear of the
should they desire to encounter him.” spare horse. In an instant it had taken to
Nigel sprang from his horse with a cry of its heels, the precious armour upon its back,
joy, and began to unbutton his doublet. and thundered away down the road which
“ Quick, Aylward, quick ! ” he said. “ He they had traversed. Aylward jumped upon
comes—a knight-errant comes ! Was there his mare, drove his prick spurs into her sides,
ever such a chance of worshipfully winning and galloped after the runaway as hard as he
worship ? Untruss the harness whilst I loose could ride. Thus it came about that in an
my clothes. Good sir, I beg you to warn instant Nigel was shorn of all his little
your noble and valiant master that a poor dignity, had lost his two horses, his attendant
squire of England would implore him to take and his outfit, and found himself a lonely
notice of him, and to do some small deed and unarmed man standing in his shirt and
upon him as he passes.” drawers upon the pathway down which the
But already the Lord of Pons had come burly figure of the Lord of Pons was slowly
in sight. _ E ie was a huge man upon an advancing.
enormous horse, so that together they seemed The knight-errant whose mind had been
to fill up the whole long, dark archway under filled by the thought of the maiden whom
the oaks. He was clad in full armour of a he had left behind at St. Jean —the same
brazen hue with only his face exposed, and whose glove dangled from his helmet—had
of this face there was little visible save a pair observed nothing that had occurred. Hence,
of arrogant eyes and a great black beard, all that met his eyes was a noble yellow horse,
which flowed through the open vizor and which was tethered by the track, and a small
down over his breast-plate. To the crest of young man who appeared to be a lunatic,
his helmet was tied a small brown glove, since he had undressed hastily in the heart
nodding and swinging above him. He bore of the forest, and stood now with an eager,
a long lance with a red square banner at the anxious face, clad in his underlinen, amid
end, charged with a black boar’s head, and the scattered debris of his garments. Of such
the same symbol was engraved upon his a person the high Lord of Pons could take
shield. Slowly he rode through the forest, no notice, and so he pursued his inexorable
ponderous, menacing, with dull thudding of way, his arrogant eyes looking out into the
his charger’s hoofs and constant clank of distance and his thoughts set intently upon
metal; while always in front of him came the maiden of St. Jean. He was dimly aware
the distant peal of the silver trumpet, that the little crazy man in the undershirt
calling all men to admit his majesty and to ran a long way beside him in his stockings,
 494 TJ1E ST R A N D M A G A Z IN E .

begging, imploring, and arguing. “ Just one complete, for here were Nigel the Norman
hour, most fair sir; just one hour at the and Aylward the Saxon, with good-fellowship
longest, and a poor squire of England shall in their hearts and a common respect in
ever hold himself your debtor. Do but con­ their minds, with the same banner and the
descend to rein your horse until my harness same cause, riding forth to do battle for their
comes back to me. Will you not stoop to old mother England.
show me some small deed of arms ? I And now the long ride drew to an end.
implore you, fair sir, to spare me a little of In front of them was the blue sea, flecked
your time and a handstroke or two ere you with the white sails of ships. Once more
go upon your way ! ” Lord de I’ons the road passed upwards from the heavy-
motioned impatiently with his gauntleted wooded plain to the springy turf of the chalk
hand, as one might brush away an impor­ downs. Far to the right rose the grim
tunate fly ; but when at last Nigel became fortalice of Pevensey, squat and powerful,
desperate in his clamour he thrust his spurs like one great block of rugged stone, the
into his great war-horse and, clashing like a parapet twinkling with steel caps and crowned
pair of cymbals, he thundered off through by the Royal banner of England. A flat
the forest. So he rode upon his majestic expanse of reeded marshland lay before
way until two days later he was slain by them, out of which rose a single wooded hill,
Lord Reginald Cobham in a field near
Weybridge.
When, after a long chase, Ay 1ward 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 build­
ing with a small grey, sloping
village around it, and they
learned from a passing hind
that this was the hamlet
and Abbey of Battle. To­
gether 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 T O G E T H E R T H F .Y D R E W R E I N UP ON T H E LO W R I D G E A N D

struggle betwixt two most noble foes, L O O K E D DOWN IN T O T H A T V A L L E Y O F D E A T H . "

with broad England as the prize of victory.

Here, up and down the low hill, hour by crowned with towers, with a bristle of masts
hour the grim struggle had waxed and rising out of the green plain some distance
waned until the Saxon army had died where to the south of it. Nigel looked at it with
it stood, King, Court, house carle, and fyrds- his hand shading his eyes, and then urged
man, each in their ranks, even as they had Pommers to a trot. The town was Winchel-
fought. And now, after all the stress and sea, and there amid that cluster of houses
toil, the tyranny, the savage revolt, the fierce on the hill the gallant Chandos must be
suppression, Cod had made His purpose awaiting him.
( To be continued.)
“ A STRA NGK S IG H T B R O U G H T T H E M TO A STAND—SLOWLY TH E W H O LE
F IG U R E OF A MAN IN C O M P LE T E P L A T E -A R M O U R E M E R G E D ON TO
THE DICK.”

(See /<7,r 615.)

 T he St r a n d M agazine.
Vol. xxxi. JU N E , 1906. No. 186.

SIR NIGEL.
B y A . C O N A N D O Y L E .

C H A P T E R X IV . Broom Pod in the High Street, and tell my

HOW N IG E L C H A SED T H E R E D FERRET. varlets to see them aboard the cog Thomas:
H E Y passed a ferry, wound before nightfall. We sail at the second hour
upwards by a curving path, and after curfew. Come hither, Nigel, to the
then, having satisfied a guard crest of the corner turret, for from it I will
of men at arms, were admitted show you what you have never seen.”
through the frowning arch of It was but a dim and distant white cloud
the Pipewell Gate. There, upon the blue water seen far off over the
waiting for them, in the middle of East Dungeness Point, and yet the sight of it
Street, the sun gleaming upon his lemon- flushed the young squire’s cheeks and sent
coloured beard and puckering his single eye, the blood hot through his veins. It was the
stood Chandos himself, his legs apart, his fringe of France, that land of chivalry and
hands bdhind his back, and a welcoming glory, the stage where name and fame were
smile upon his quaint, high-nosed face. to be won. With burning eyes he gazed
Behind him a crowd of little boys were across at it, his heart rejoicing to think that
gazing with reverent eyes at the famous the hour was at hand when he might tread
soldier. that sacred soil. Then his gaze crossed the
“ Welcome, N ig e l!” said he, “ and you immense stretch of the blue sea, dotted over
also, good fellow. I chanced to be walking with the sails of fishing-boats, until it rested
on the city wall, and I thought from the upon the double harbour beneath, packed
colour of your horse that it was indeed with vessels of every size and shape, from the
you upon the Udimore Road. How have pessoners and creyers which plied up and
you fared, young squire-errant? Have you down the coast to the great cogs and galleys
held bridges, or rescued damsels, or slain which were used either as warships or
oppressors on your way from Tilford ? ” merchantmen as the occasion served. One
“ Nay, my fair lord, I have accomplished of them was at that instant passing out to sea,
nothing, but I once had hopes------’’ Nigel a huge galeasse, with trumpets blowing and
flushed at the remembrance. nakirs banging, the flag of St. George flaunt­
“ I will give you more than hopes, Nigel. ing over the broad purple sail, and the decks
I will put you where you can dip both arms sparkling from end to end with steel. Nigel
to the elbow into danger and honour, where gave a cry of pleasure at the splendour of
peril will sleep with you at night and rise the sight.
with you in the morning until the very air “ Aye, lad,” said Chandos; “ it is the
you breathe is laden w-ith it. Are you ready Trinity, of Rye, the very ship on which I
for that, young sir ? ” fought at Sluys. Her deck ran blood from
“ I can but pray, fair lord, that my spirit stem to stern that day. But turn your eyes
will rise to it.” this way, I beg you, and tell me if you see
Chandos smiled his approval, and laid his aught strange about this town.”
thin brown hand on the youth’s shoulder. Nigel looked down at the noble, straight
“ Good ! ” said he. “ It is the mute hound street, at the roundel tower, at the fine
which bites the hardest. The babbler is church of St. Thomas, and the other fair
ever the hang-back. Bide with me here, buildings of Winchelsea.
Nigel, and walk upon the ramparts. Archer, “ It is all new,” said he. “ Church, castle,
do you lead the horses to the Sign of the houses—all are new.”
Vol. xxxi. - 7 6 Copyright, 1906, by A. Connn I>oyle,, in the United States of America.
 604 TH E STRAND M A G A ZIN E .

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
honourable advance­
ment or die worship­
ful on the field.”
“ You are wise to be
humble,” said Chan­
dos ; “ 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
N I G E L G A V E A C R Y OK P L E A S U R E A T H I E S P L E N D O U R OF T H E S I G H T . hound will run at fault
if he be ill laid on, and
“ You are right, fair son. My grand­ the best hawk will fly at check if he be badly
father can call to mind the time when only loosed, and even so the bravest army may go
the coneys lived upon this rock. The town awry if it be ill handled. There are not in
was down yonder by the sea until one night Christendom better knights and squires than
the waves rose upon it, and not a house was those of the French, and yet we have had the
left. See, yonder is Rye, huddling also on a better of them, for in our Scottish wars and
hill, the two towns like poor sheep when the elsewhere we have learned more of this same
waters are out. But down there under the mystery of which I speak.”
blue water and below the Camber Sand lies “ And wherein lies our wisdom, honoured
the true Winchelsea—tower, cathedral, walls, s ir ? ” asked Nigel. “ I also would fain be
and all, even as my grandfather knew it, war-wise and learn to fight with my wits as
when the first Edward was young upon the well as with my sword.”
throne.” Chandos shook his head and smiled
For an hour or more Chandos paced upon “ It is in the forest and on the down that
the rampart with his young squire at his you learn to fly the hawk and loose the
elbow, and talked to him of his duties and of hound,” said he. “ So also it is in camp and
the secrets and craft of warfare, Nigel drink­ on the field that the mystery of war can be
ing in and storing in his memory every word learned. There only has every great captain
from so revered a teacher. Many a time in come to be its master. To start he must
after-life, in stress and in danger, he have a cool head, quick to think, soft as
strengthened himself by the memory of that wax before his purpose is formed, hard as
slow walk, with the blue sea on one side and steel when once he sees it before him. Ever
the fair town on the other, when the wise alert he must be and cautious also, but with
soldier and noble-hearted knight poured judgment to turn his caution into rashness
forth his precept and advice as the master- where a large gain may*be put against a
workman to the apprentice. small stake. An eye for country also, for
“ Perhaps, fair son,” said he, “ you are like the trend of the rivers, the slope of the hills,
 SZE N IG EL’ 605

the cover of the woods, and the light green his small stock of brains and to profit by the
of the bog-land.” lecture, when their conversation was inter­
Poor Nigel, who had trusted to his lance rupted by a strange new arrival.
and to Pommers to break his path to glory, It was a very stout little man, wheezy and
stood aghast at this list of needs. purple with haste, who scudded down the
“ Alas ! ” he cried. “ How am I to gain rampart as if he were blown by the wind, his
all this ? I, who could scarce learn to read or grizzled hair flying and his long black gown
write though the good Father Matthew broke floating behind him. He was clad in the
a hazel stick a day across my shoulders ? ” dress of a respectable citizen—a black jerkin
“ You will gain it, fair son, where others trimmed with sable, a black velvet beaver hat,
have gained it before you. You have that and a white feather. At the sight of Chandos
which is the first thing of all—a heart of fire he gave a cry of joy and quickened his pace,
from which other colder hearts may catch a so that when he did at last reach him he
spark. But you must have knowledge also of could only stand gasping and waving his
that which warfare has taught us in olden hands.
times. We know, for example, that horsemen “ Give yourself time, good Master
alone cannot hope to win against good foot- Wintersole, give yourself time ! ” said
soldiers. Has it not been tried at Courtrai, Chandos, in a soothing voice.
at Stirling, and again
under my own eyes at
C r£ cy , w h e r e t h e
chivalry of France went
down before our bow­
men ? ”
Nigel stared at him
with a perplexed brow.
“ Fair sir, my heart
grows heavy as I hear
you. I)o 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 un­
supported 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. I T W A S A V E R Y S T O U T L I T T L E M A N , W H E E Z Y A N D P U R P L E W IT H H A S T E , WHO S C U D D E D
DOWN T H E RA M P A R T .
Apart they are weak.
Together they are strong. The archer “ The papers ! ” gasped the little man.
who can weaken the enemy’s line, the “ Oh, my Lord Chandos, the papers ! ”
horseman who can break it when it is “ What of the papers, my worthy sir ? ”
weakened, as was done at Falkirk and at “ I swear by our good patron St. Leonard
Dupplin, there is the secret of our strength. it was no fault of mine. I had locked them
Now, touching this same battle of Falkirk, in my coffer. But the lock was forced and
I pray you for one instant to give it your the coffer rifled.”
attention.” A shadow of anger passed over the soldier’s
With his whip he began to trace a plan of keen face.
the Scottish battle upon the dust, and Nigel, “ How now, Master Mayor? Pull your
with knitted brows, was trying hard to muster wits together and do not stand there babbling
 6o6 TH E ST R A N D M AG A ZIN E.

like a three-year child. Do you say that we are about to make some attempt, and
someone hath taken the papers?” that they have sent Peter the Red Ferret, as
“ It is sooth, fair sir ! Thrice I have been they have sent him many times before, to get
mayor of the town, and fifteen years burgess tidings of whither we are bound? Now that
and jurat, but never once has any public he knows that the stores are for Calais, then
matter gone awry through me. Only last to the French near Calais will he take his
month there came an order from Windsor on warning, and so the King’s whole plan come
a Tuesday for a Friday banquet, a thousand to nothing.”
soles, four thousand plaice, two thousand “ Then he will fly by water. We can stop
mackerel, five hundred crabs, a thousand him yet. He has not an hour’s start.”
lobsters, five thousand whiting------” “ It may be that a boat awaits him at Rye
“ 1 doubt not, Master Mayor, that you are or Hythe, but it is more like that he has all
an excellent fishmonger, but the matter ready to depart from here. Ah, see yonder !
concerns the papers I gave into your keeping. I ’ll warrant that the Red Ferret is on
Where are they ? ” board 1 ”
“ Taken, fair sir—gone ! ” Chandos had halted in front of his inn,
“ And who hath dared to take them ? ” and now he pointed down to the outer
“ Alas ! I know not. It was but for as harbour, which lay two miles off across the
long as you would say an angelus that I left green plain. It was connected by a long,
the chamber, and when I came back there winding canal with the inner dock at the
was the coffer, broken and empty, upon my base of the hill upon which the town was
table.” built. Between the two horns formed by tie
“ Do you suspect no one? ” short curving piers a small schooner was
“ There was a varlet who hath come within running out to sea, dipping and rising before
the last few days into my employ. He is not a sharp southerly breeze.
to be found, and I have sent horsemen “ It is no Winchelsea boat,” said the
along both the Udimore Road and that to mayor; “ she is longer and broader in the
Rye, that they may seize him. By the help beam than ours.”
of St. Leonard they can scarce miss him, for “ Horses ! Bring horses ! ” cried Chandos.
one can tell him a bow-shot off by his hair.” “ Come, Nigel, let us go further into the
“ Is it red ? ” asked Chandos, eagerly. matter.”
“ Is it fox-red, and the man a small man A busy crowd of varlets, archers, and men-
pocked with sun-spots, and very quick in his at arms swarmed round the gateway of the
movements ? ” Sign of the Broom Pod, singing, shouting,
“ It is the man himself.” and jostling in rough good-fellowship. The
Chandos shook his clenched hand with sight of the tall, thin figure of Chandos
annoyance, and then set off swiftly down the brought order amongst them, and a few
street. minutes later the horses were ready and
“ It is Peter the Red Ferret once more ! ” saddled. A breakneck ride down a steep
said he. “ I knew him of old in France, declivity and then a gallop of two miles over
where he has done us more harm than a the sedgy plain carried them to the outer
company of men-at-arms. He speaks English harbour. A dozen vessels were lying there,
as he speaks French, and he is of such daring ready to start for Bordeaux or Rochelle, and
and cunning that nothing is secret from him. the quay was thick with sailors, labourers,
In all France there is no more dangerous and townsmen, and heaped with wine-barrels
man, for though he is a gentleman of blood and wool-packs.
and coat-armour he takes the part of a spy, “ Who is warden here ? ” asked Chandos,
because it hath the more danger and there­ springing from his horse.
fore the more honour.” “ Badding. Where is Cock Badding ?
“ But, my fair lord,” cried the mayor, as Badding is warden,” shouted the crowd. A
he hurried along, keeping pace with the long moment later a short, swarthy man, bull­
strides of the soldier, “ I know that you necked and deep-chested, pushed through
warned me to take all care of the papers, the people. He was clad in rough russet
but surely there was no matter of great wool, with a scarlet cloth tied round his black,
import in it. It was but to say what stores curly head. His sleeves were rolled up to
were to be sent after you to Calais.” his shoulders, and his brown arms, all stained
“ Is that not everything?” cried Chandos, with grease and tar, were like two thick,
impatiently. “ Can you not see, oh, foolish gnarled branches from an oaken stump. His
Master Wmtersole, that the French suspect savage brown face was fierce and frowning,
 SIR N IG E L . 607

and was split from

chin to temple
with the long
white weal of an
ill-healed wound.
“ How now,
gentles ? Will you
never wait your
turn ? ” he rum­
bled, in a deep,
angry voice. “ Can
you not see that
we are warping
th e Rose o f
Guienne into mid­
stream for the
ebb-tide ? Is this
a time to break
in upon us? Your
goo d s will go
aboard in due
season, I promise
you, so ride back
into the town and
find such plea­
sure as you may,
while I and my
mates do our
work without let
or hindrance.”
“ It is the gentle
Chandos,” cried
someone in the
crowd. “ It is the
good Sir John.”
The rough harbour-master changed his and I was nigh knocked into the water by
gruffness to smiles in an instant. a little red headed fellow, who breathed as
“ Nay, Sir John, what would you? I pray though he had run from the town. Ere I
you to hold me excused if I was short of had time to give him a cuff he had jumped
speech, but we port-wardens are sore plagued aboard, the ropes were cast off, and her nose
with foolish young lordlings, who get betwixt was seaward.”
us and our work, and blame us because we In a few words Chandos made all clear to
do not turn an ebb-tide into a flood, or a Badding, the crowd pressing eagerly round.
south wind into a north. I pray you to tell “ Aye, aye,” cried a seaman. “ The good
me how I can serve you.” Sir John is right. See how she points. It
“ That b o at!” said Chandos, pointing to is Picardy and not Gascony that she will fetch
the already distant sail rising and falling on this journey, in spite of her wine-staves.”
the waves. “ What is it ? ” “ Then we must lay her aboard,” cried
Cock Badding shaded his keen eyes with Cock Badding. “ Come, lads, here is my
his strong brown hand. own M arie Rose ready to cast off. Who’s
“ She has but just gone out,” said he. for a trip with a fight at the end of it ? ”
“ She is La Pucelle, a small wine-sloop from There was a rush for the boat, but the
Gascony, home-bound and laden with barrel- stout little seaman picked his men.
staves.” “ Go back, Je rry; your heart is good, but
“ I pray you did any man join her at the you are over fat for the work. You, Luke,
very last?” and you, Thomas, and the two Deedes, and
“ Nay, I know not. I saw no one.” William of Sandgate. You will work the
“ But I know,” cried a seaman in the boat. And now we need a few men of their
crowd. “ I was standing at the wharfside, hands. Do you come, little sir ? ”
 6o8 THE ST R A N D M A G A ZIN E .

“ I pray you, my dear lord, to let me go,” “ By St. Leonard, archer ! ” said Cock
cried Nigel. Badding, “ had I more time I would give
“ Yes, Nigel, you can go, and I will bring you a lesson ere I leave land. Stand back
your gear over to Calais this night.” and give place to others ! ”
“ I will join you there, fair sir, and with the “ Nay, stand back and give place to me ! ”
help of St. Paul I will bring this Red Ferret cried Aylward ; and seizing Badding round
with me.” the waist he slung him into the dock.
“ Aboard ! aboard ! Time passes ! ” cried There was a cry of anger from the crowd,
Badding, impatiently, while already his sea­ for Badding was the hero of all the Cinque
men were hauling on the line and raising the Ports, and had never yet met his match in
mainsail. “ Now then, sirrah, who are you ? ” manhood. The epitaph still lingers in which
It was Aylward, who had followed Nigel, it was said that he “ could never rest until
and was pushing his way aboard. he had foughten his fill.” When, therefore,
“ Where my master goes I go also ! ” cried swimming like a duck, he reached a rope
Aylward. “ So stand clear, Master Shipman, and pulled himself hand over hand up to the
or you may come by a hurt.” quay, all stood aghast to see what fell fate
would befall this
bold stranger. But
Badding laughed
loudly, d a s h in g
. the salt water from
his eyes and hair.
“ Y ou have
fairly won your
p la ce , arch e r,”
said he. “ You
are the very man
fo r o u r w o r k .
Where is Black
Simon of Nor­
wich ? ”
A t a ll, dark
young man with
a long, stern, lean
f a c e c a m e for­
ward.
“ I am w i t h
you, Cock,” said
he, “ and I thank
you for my place.”
“ You can come,
Hugh B ad dl es-
mere, and you,
Hal Masters, and
you, Dicon of
Rye. T h a t is
enough. Now
off, in God’s name,
or it will be night
ere we can come
up with them ! ”
A lr e a d y t h e
head sails and the
mainsail had been
raised, while a
hundred willing
hands poled her
o ff from the
S E I Z I N G P A D D I N G HOUND T H E W A I S T H E S L U N G HIM IN T O T H E DO CK. wharf. Now the
 SIR N IG E L. 609

wind caught her. Heeling over and which lay upon the deck. He groaned sadly,
quivering with eagerness like an unleashed and held his green face between his two
hound, she flew through the opening and hands.
out into the Channel. She was a famous “ I would gladly sling you into the sea
little schooner, the M arie Rose of Win­ once more, Master Shipman,” said he, “ if
chelsea, and under her daring owner, Cock by so doing I could get off this most
Badding, half trader and half pirate, had accursed vessel of thine. Or, if you would
brought back into port many a rich cargo wish to have your turn, then I would thank
taken in mid-Channel, and paid for in blood you if you would lend me a hand over the
rather than money. Small as she was, her side, for, indeed, I am but a useless weight
great speed and the fierce character of her upon your deck. Little did I think that
master had made her a name of terror along Samkin Aylward could be turned into a
the French coast, and many a bulky East- weakling by an hour of salt water. Alas, the
lander or Fleming, as he passed the narrow day that ever my foot wandered from the good
seas, had scanned the distant Kentish shore, red heather of Crooksbury ! ”
fearing iest that ill-omened purple sail with a Cock Badding laughed loud and long.
gold Christopher upon it should shoot out “ Nav, take it not to heart, archer,” he
suddenly from the dim grey cliffs. Now she cried, “ for better men than you or I have
was clear of the land, with the wind on her groaned upon this deck. The Prince himself
larboard quarter, every inch of canvas set, with ten of his chosen knights crossed with
and her high, sharp bows smothered in foam me once, and eleven sadder faces I never saw.
as she dug through the waves. Cock Badding Yet within a month they had shown at Cr^cy
trod the deck with head erect and jaunty that they were no weaklings, as you will do
bearing, glancing up at the swelling sails and also, I dare swear, when the time comes.
then ahead at the little tilted white triangle, Keep that thick head of thine down upon the
which stood out clear and hard against planks and all will be well anon. But we
the bright blue sky. Behind was the low raise her, we raise her, with every blast of the
land of the Camber marshes, with the bluffs wind ! ”
of Rye and Winchelsea, and the line of cliffs It was indeed evident, even to the
behind them. On the larboard bow rose the inexperienced eyes of Nigel, that the M arie
great white walls of Folkestone and of Dover, Rose was closing in swiftly upon the stranger.
and far on the distant skyline the grey She was a heavy, bluff-bowed, broad-sterned
shimmer of those French cliffs for which the< vessel, which laboured clumsily through the
fugitives were making. seas. The swift, fierce little Winchelsea boat
“ By St. Paul ! ” cried Nigel, looking with swooping and hissing through the waters
eager eves over the tossing waters, “ it seems behind her was like some keen hawk whizzing
to me, Master Badding, that already we draw down wind at the back of a flapping, heavy­
in upon them.” bodied duck. Half an hour before L a
The master measured the distance with Pucelle had been a distant patch of canvas.
his keen, steady gaze, and then looked up at Now they could see the black hull, and soon
the sinking sun. the cut of her sails and the lines of her
“ We have still four hours of daylight,” bulwarks. There were at least a dozen men
said he, “ but if we do not lay her aboard upon her deck, and the twinkle of weapons
ere darkness falls she will save herself, for. from amongst them showed that they were
the nights are as black as a wolf’s mouth, preparing to resist. Cock Badding began to
and if she alter her course I know not how muster his own forces.
we may follow her.” He had a crew of seven, rough, hardy
“ Unless, indeed, you might guess to which mariners, who had been at his back in many
port she was bound and reach it before her.” a skirmish. They were armed with short
“ Well thought of, little master,” cried swords, but Cock Badding carried a weapon
Badding. “ I f the news be for the French peculiar to himself, a twenty-pound black­
outside Calais, then Ambleteuse would be smith’s hammer, the memory of which as
nearest to St. Omer. But my sweeting sails “ Badding’s cracker ” still lingers in the Cinque
three paces to that lubber’s two, and if the Ports. Then there were the eager Nigel, the
wind holds we will have time and to spare. melancholy Aylward, Black Simon, who was
How now, archer? You do not seem so a tried swordsman, and three archers, Bad-
eager as when you made your way aboard dlesmere, Masters, and Dicon of Rye, all
this boat by slinging me into the sea.” veterans of the French war. The numbers
Avlward sat on the upturned keel of a skiff in the two vessels might be about equal, but
Vol. xxxi.—77
 6io THE STR AN D M AGAZINE.

Badding, as he glanced at the bold, harsh and the purple rose and fell, so small upon
faces which looked to him for orders, had the vast shining bosom of the waters, and yet
little fear for the result. so charged with all the unrest and the passion
Glancing round, however, he saw some­ of life.
thing which was more dangerous to his plans The experienced eye of the seaman told
than the resistance of the enemy. The him that it was hopeless to expect a breeze
wind, which had become more fitful and before nightfall. He looked across at the
feebler, now fell suddenly away until the Frenchman, which lay less than a quarter of
sails hung limp and straight above them. A a mile ahead, and he shook his gnarled fist
belt of calm lay along the horizon, and the at the line of heads which could be seen
waves around had smoothed down into a looking back over her stern. One of them
long, oily swell on which the two little vessels waved a white kerchief in derision, and Cock
rose and fell. 1 he great boom of the M ane Badding swore a bitter oath at the sight.
Rose rattled and “ By St. Leon­
jarred with every ard of Winchel-
lurch, and the sea,” he cried,
high, thin prow “ I will rub my
pointed skyward side up against
one instant and her yet ! Out
seaward the next with the skiff,
in a way that lads, and two of
drew fresh groans you to the oars.
from t h e u n ­ Make fast the
happy Aylward. line to the mast,
In vain Cock Will. Do you go
Badding pulled in t h e b o a t ,
on his sheets Hugh, and I’ll
and tried hard to make the second.
husband every Now, if we bend
little wandering our backs to it,
gust w h i ch we may have
ruffled for an in­ t h e m yet e r e
stant the sleek night cover
r o l l e r s . The them.”
French master The little skiff
was as adroit a w as s wi f t l y
sailor, and his lowered over the
boom s w u n g side, and the
round also as slack end of the
each breath of cable fastened to
wind came up the after-thwart.
from astern. At Badding and his
last even these comrade pulled
fitful puffs died as if they would
finally away, and snap their oars,
a cloudless sky and the little
overhung a glassy vessel began
sea. The sun slowly to lurch
was almost upon forward over the
the horizon be­ rollers. But the
hind Dungeness next moment a
Point, and the larger skiff had
whole western heaven was bright with the splashed over the side of the Frenchman, and
glory of the sunset, which blended sea and sky no fewer than four seamen were hard at work
in one blaze of ruddy light. Like rollers of under her bows. If the M arie Rose advanced
molten gold the long swell heaved up Channel a yard the Frenchman was going two. Again
from the great ocean beyond. In the midst Cock Badding raved and shook his fist. H e
of the immense beauty and peace of Nature clambered aboard, his face wet with sweat
the two little dark specks with the white sail and dark with anger.
 SIR N IG E L. 611

“ Curse them, they have had the best of — there is the end of it. No man of mine
us ! ” he cried. “ 1 can do no more. Sir goes on such a fool’s errand, and so I swear.”
John has lost his papers, for, indeed, now “ Then, Master Badding, I must crave the
that night is at hand I can see no way in loan of your skiff, for, by St. Paul, the good
which we can gain them.” Lord Chandos’s papers are not to be so
Nigel had leaned against the bulwark lightly lost. If no one else will come, then I
during' these events, watching with keen will venture alone.”
attention the doings of the sailors, and pray­ The shipman smiled at the words, but the
ing alternately to St. Paul, St. George, and smile died away from his lips when Nigel,
St. Thomas for a slant of wind which would with features set like ivory and eyes as hard
put them alongside their enemy. He was as steel, pulled on the rope so as to bring the
silent, but his hot heart was simmering within skiff under the counter. It was very clear
him. His spirit had risen even above the that he would do even as he said. At the
discomfort of the sea, and his mind was too same time Aylward raised his bulky form
absorbed in his mission to have a thought from the deck, leaned for a moment against
for that which had laid Aylward flat upon the the bulwarks, and then tottered aft to his
deck. He had never doubted that Cock master’s side.
Badding, in one way or another, would “ Here is one that will go with you,” said
accomplish his end, but when he heard his he, “ or he would never dare show his face
speech of despair he bounded off the bulwark to the girls of Tilford again. Come, archers,
and stood before the seaman with his face let us leave these salt herrings in their pickle
flushed and all his soul afire. tub and try our luck out on the water.”
“ By St. Paul, Master Shipman,” he cried, The three archers at once ranged them­
“ we should never hold up our heads in selves on the same side as their comrade.
honour if we did not go further into the They were bronzed, bearded men, short in
matter! I jet us do some small deed this stature, as were most Englishmen of that
night upon the water, or let us never see day, but hardy, strong, and skilled with their
land again, for, indeed, we could not weapons. Each drew his string from its
wish fairer prospect of winning honourable waterproof case, and bent the huge arc of
advancement.” his war-bow as he fitted it into the nocks.
“ With your leave, little master, you speak “ Now, master, we are at your back,” said
like a fool,” said the gruff seaman. “ You they; as they pulled round their baldrics and
and all your kind are as children when once tightened their sword-belts.
the blue water is beneath you. Can you not But already Cock Badding had been
see that there is no wind, and that the carried away by the hot lust of battle, and
Frenchman can warp her as swiftly as we? had thrown aside every fear and doubt
What, then, would you d o ? ” which had clouded him. To see a fight
Nigel pointed to the boat which towed and not to be in it was more than he could
astern. bear.
“ Let us venture forth in her,” said he, “ Nay, have it your own way ! ” he cried.
“ and let us take this ship or die worshipful “ And may St. Leonard help us, for a
in the attempt.” madder venture I have never seen ! And yet
His bold and fiery words found their echo it may be worth the trial. But if it be done,
in the brave, rough hearts around him. let me have the handling of it, little master,
There was a deep-chested shout from both for you know no more of a boat than I do
archers and seamen. Even Aylward sat up of a war-horse. The skiff can bear five, and
with a wan smile upon his green face. But not a man more. Now, who will come ? ”
Cock Badding shook his head. They had all caught fire, and there was
“ I have never met the man who could not one who would be left out.
lead where I would not follow,” said he, “ but Badding picked up his hammer.
by St. Leonard this is a mad business, and “ I will come myself,” sqjd he, “ and you
I should be a fool if I were to risk my men also, little master, since it is your hot head
and my ship. Bethink you, little master, that has planned it. Then there is Black
that the skiff can only hold five, though you Simon, the best sword of the Cinque Ports.
load her to the water’s edge. If there be a Two archers can pull on the oars, and it may
man yonder there are fourteen, and you have be that they can pick off two or three of
to climb their side from the boat. W’hat these Frenchmen before we close with them.
chance would you have? W’hat would you Hugh Baddlesmere, and you, Dicon of Rye
gain? Your boat stove and you in the water —into the boat with you ! ”
 6l2 THE STR AN D M AGAZIN E.

“ What ! ” cried Aylward, “ am I to be left into one dim haze. A great silence hung over
behind ? I, who am the squire’s own man ? the broad expanse of Nature, and no sound
Ill fare the bowman who comes betwixt me broke it save the dip and splash of the oars
and yonder boat.” and the slow, deep surge of the boat upon the
“ Nay, Aylward,” said his master, “ I order swell. Behind them their comrades of the
that you stay ; for, indeed, you are a sick M arie Rose stood motionless and silent,
man.” watching their progress with eager eyes.
“ But now that the waves have sunk I am They were near enough now to have a
myself again. Nay, fair sir, I pray that you good look at the Frenchmen. One was a
will not leave me behind.” big, swarthy man with a long black beard.
“ You must needs take the space of a He had a red cap, and an axe over his
better man, for what do you know of the shoulder. There were ten other hardy-look­
handling of a boat ? ” said Badding, shortly. ing fellows, all of them well armed, and there
“ No more fool’s talk, I pray you, for the were three who seemed to be boys.
night will soon fall. Stand aside ! ” “ Shall we try a shaft upon them ? ” asked
Aylward looked hard at the French boat. Hugh Baddlesmere. “ They are well within
“ I could swim ten times up and down our bow-shot.”
Frensham Pond,” said he, “ and it will be “ Only one of you can shoot at a time, for
strange if I cannot go as far as that. By you have no footing,” said Badding. “ With
these finger-bones, Samkin Aylward may be one foot in the prow and one over the th wart
there as soon as you.” you will get your stance. Do what you may,
The little boat with its five occupants and then we will close in upon them.”
pushed off from the side of the schooner, and '1'he archer balanced himself in the rolling

“ A S H O U T OK D E F I A N C E R O S E FROM T H E
F K K N C H M F . N , A N D T H E Y STO OD IN A I I N E
ALONG T H E SIDE OF T H F 1R V E SSEL .

dipping and rising made its slow way towards boat with the deftness of a man who has
the Frenchman. Badding and one archer been trained upon the sea, for he was born
had single oars, the second archer was in the and bred in the Cinque Ports. Carefully he
prow, while Black Simon and Nigel huddled nocked his arrow, strongly he drew it, steadily
into the stern with the water lapping and hiss­ he loosed it, but the boat swooped at the
ing at their very elbows. A shout of defiance instant, and it buried itself in the waves.
rose from the Frenchmen, and they stood in The second passed over the little ship and
a line along the side of their vessel shaking the third stuck in her black side. Then in
their fists and waving their weapons. Already quick succession—so quick that two shafts
the sun was level with Dungeness, and the were often in the air at the same instant—he
grey of evening was blurring sky and water discharged a dozen arrows, most of which
 SIR NIG EL. 613

just cleared the bulwarks and dropped upon The cross-bow man stood under the mast,
the deck. There was a cry on the French­ his terrible weapon at his shoulder, the steel
man and the heads vanished from the side. string stretched taut, the heavy bolt shining
“ Enough ! ” cried Badding. “ One is upon the nut. One life at least he would
down, and it may be two. Close in, close in, claim out of this little band. Just for an
in God’s name, before they rally.” instant too long did he dwell upon his aim,
He and the other bent to their oars, but at shifting from the seaman to Cock Badding,
the same instant there was a sharp zip in the whose formidable appearance showed him
air and a hard, clear sound, like a stone to be the better prize. In that second of
striking a wall. Baddlesmere clapped his time Hal Masters’s string twanged and his
hand to his head, groaned, and fell forward long arrow sped through the arbalestier’s
out of the boat, leaving a swirl of blood upon throat. He dropped on the deck with
the surface. A moment later the same fierce blood pouring from his mouth. A moment
hiss ended in a loud wooden crash, and a later Nigel’s sword and Badding’s hammer
short, thick cross-bow bolt was buried deep in had each claimed a victim and driven
the side of their boat. back the rush of assailants. The five were
“ Close in ! close in ! ” roared Badding, safe upon the deck, but it was hard for
tugging at his oar. “ St. George for England! them to keep a footing there. The French
St. Leonard for Winchelsea 1 Close in ! ” seamen, Bretons and Normans, were stout,
But again that fatal cross-bow twanged. powerful fellows, armed with axes and
Dicon of Rye fell back with a shaft through swords, fierce fighters and brave men. They
his shoulder. “ God help me, I can no swarmed round the little band, attacking
more,” said he. Badding seized the oar from them from all sides. Black Simon felled the
his hand, but it was only to sweep the boat’s black-bearded French captain, and at the
head round and pull her back to the M arie same instant was cut over the head and lay
Rose. The attack had failed. with his scalp open upon the deck. The
“ What now, Master Shipman ? ” cried seaman, Wat of Hythe, was killed by a
Nigel. “ What has befallen to stop us ? Surely crashing blow from an axe. Nigel was struck
the matter does not end here ? ” down, but was up again like a flash, and
“ Two down out of five,” said Badding, drove his sword through the man who
“ and twelve at the least against us. The had felled him. But Badding, Masters the
odds are too long, little master. Let us at archer, and he had been hustled back to
least go back, fill up once more, and raise a the bulwark and were barely holding their
mantlet against the bolts, for they have an own from minute to minute against the
arbalest which shoots both straight and hard. fierce crowd who assailed them, when
But what we do we must do quickly, for the an arrow, coming apparently from the
darkness falls apace.” sea, struck the foremost Frenchman to the
Their repulse had been hailed by wild heart. A moment later a boat dashed
yells of delight from the Frenchmen, who alongside, and four more men from the
danced with joy and waved their weapons M arie Rose scrambled on to the bloodstained
madly over their heads. But before their deck. With one fierce rush the remaining
rejoicings had finished they saw the -little Frenchmen were struck down or were seized
boat creeping out once more from the shadow by their assailants. Nine prostrate men upon
of the M arie Rose, a great wooden screen in the deck showed how fierce had been the
her bows to protect her from the arrows. attack, how desperate the resistance.
Without a pause she came straight and fast Badding leaned panting upon his blood-
for her enemy. The wounded archer had clotted hammer.
been put aboard, and Aylward would have “ By St. Leonard ! ” he cried, “ I thought
had his place had Nigel been able to see that this little master had been the death of
him upon the deck. The third archer, Hal us all. God wot you were but just in time,
Masters, had sprung in, and one of the sea­ and how you came I know not. This
men, Wat Finnis, of Hythe. With their archer has had a hand in it, by the look
hearts hardened to conquer or to die, the five of him.”
ran alongside the Frenchman and sprang Aylward, still pale from his sea-sickness,
upon her deck. At the same instant a great and dripping from head to foot with water,
iron weight crashed through the bottom of had been the first man in the rescue party.
their skiff, and their feet had hardly left her Nigel looked at him in amazement.
before she was gone. There was no hope “ I sought you aboard the ship, Aylward,
and no escape save victory. but I could not lay eyes on you,” said he.
 614 TH E STR A N D M AG A ZIN E.

“ T H E F I V E HA N A L O N G S I D E T H E F R E N C H M A N A N D S P R A N G UPON H E R D E C K . "

“ It was because I was in the water, fair not said them for many a day. Then y o u
sir, and by my hilt it suits my stomach better came again, and no one had an eye for m e
than being on it,” he answered. “ When so I clambered into it, cut the rope, took t h e
you first set forth I swam behind you, for I oars which I found there, and brought h e r
saw that the Frenchman’s boat hung by a back for more men.”
rope, and I thought that while you kept him “ By St. Paul, you have acted very w ise ly
in play I might gain it. I had reached it and well,” said Nigel, “ and I think that o f
when you were driven back, so I hid behind all of us it is you who have won most h on o u r
it in the water, and said my prayers as 1 have this day. But of all these men, dead a n d
 SIR N IG EL. 6 i5
alive, I see none who resembles that Red bodies, the group of men in the stern, some
Ferret whom my Lord Chandos has described, trying to advance, some seeking to escape—
and who has worked such despite upon us all a confused, disorderly, struggling rabble.
in the past. It would indeed be an evil Then betwixt them and the mast the two
chance if he has in spite of all our pains figures, the armed, shining man of metal, with
made his way to France in some other hand upraised, watchful, silent, motionless,
boat.” and Nigel, bare-headed and crouching, with
“ That we shall soon find out,” said quick foot, eager eyes, and fearless, happy
Budding. “ Come with me, and we will face, moving this way and that, in and out,
search the ship from truck to keel ere he his sword flashing like a gleam of light as he
escapes us.” sought at all points for some opening in the
There was a scuttle at the base of the brazen shell before him.
mast which led down into the body of the It was clear to the man in armour that if
vessel, and the Englishmen were approaching he could but pen his antagonist in a corner
this when a strange sight brought them to a he would beat him down without fail. But
stand. A round, brazen head had appeared it was not to be done. The unhampered
in the square, dark opening. An instant man had the advantage of speed. With a few
afterwards a pair of shining shoulders fol­ quick steps he could always glide to either
lowed. Then slowly the whole figure of a side and escape the clumsy rush. Aylward
man in complete plate-armour emerged on to and Badding had sprung out to Nigel’s
the deck. In his gauntleted hand he carried assistance, but he shouted to them to stand
a heavy steel mace. With this uplifted he back with such authority and anger in his
moved towards his enemies, silent save for the voice that their weapons dropped to their
ponderous metallic clank of his footfall. It was sides. With staring eyes and set features
an inhuman, machine-like figure, menacing they stood watching that unequal fight.
and terrible, devoid of all expression, slow- Once it seemed that all was over with the
moving, inexorable, and awesome. A sudden squire, for, in springing back from his
wave of terror passed over the English sea­ enemy, he tripped over one of the bodies
men. One of them tried to pass and get which strewed the deck and fell flat upon his
behind the brazen man, but he was pinned back ; but with a swift wriggle he escaped
against the side by a quick movement and his the heavy blow which thundered down upon
brains dashed out by a smashing blow from him, and, springing to his feet, he bit a
the heavy mace. Wild panic seized the others, deep line in the Frenchman’s helmet with
and they rushed back to the boat. Aylward a sweeping cut in return. Again the mace
strung an arrow, but his bow-string was damp, fell, and this time Nigel had not quite
and the shaft rang loudly upon the shining cleared himself. His sword was beaten
breast plate and glanced off into the sea. down, and the blow fell partly upon his
Masters struck the brazen head with a sword, left shoulder. He staggered, and once more
but the blade snapped without injuring the the iron club whirled upwards to dash
helmet, and an instant later the bowman was him to the ground. Quick as a flash it
stretched senseless on the deck. The seamen passed through his mind that he could not
shrank from this terrible, silent creature and leap beyond its reach. But he might get
huddled in the stern, all the fight gone out within it. In an instant he had dropped his
of them. Again he raised his mace, and was sword, and, springing in, he had seized the
advancing on the helpless crowd, where the brazen man round his waist. The mace was
brave were encumbered and hampered by the shortened and the handle jobbed down once
weaklings, when Nigel shook himself clear upon the bare flaxen head. Then, with a
and bounded forward into the open, his sonorous clang and a yell of delight from the
sword in his hand and a smile of welcome spectators, Nigel, with one mighty wrench,
upon his lips. tore his enemy from the deck and hurled
The sun had set, and one long mauve gash him down upon his back. His own head
across the western channel was closing swiftly was whirling, and he felt that his senses were
into the dull greys of early night. Above a slipping away ; but already his hunting-knife
few stars began to faintly twinkle ; yet the was out and pointing through the slit in the
twilight was still bright enough lor an observer brazen helmet.
to see every detail of the scene—the M arie “ Give yourself up, fair sir ! ” said he.
Rose dipping and rising on the long rollers A croaking voice burst from within.
astern, the broad French boat with its white “ Never to fishermen and to archers. I am
deck blotched with blood and littered with a gentleman of coat-armour. Kill me.”
 6i 6 TH E STR AN D M AGAZINE.

“ I also am a gentleman of coat-armour. “ So my enemies call me,” said the French­

I promise you quarter.” man, with a smile. “ I rejoice, sir, that 1
“ Then, sir, I surrender myself to you.” have fallen to so valiant and honourable a
The dagger tinkled down upon the deck. gentleman.”
Seamen and archers ran forward, to find “ I thank you, fair sir,” said Nigel, feebly ;
Nigel half senseless upon his face. They “ I also rejoice that I have encountered so
drew him off, and a few deft blows struck off debonair a person, and I shall ever bear in

“ ‘ you a k e t h e kkd f e r r e t ?’ s aid he."

the helmet of his enemy. A head—sharp- mind the pleasure which I have had from ou r
featured, freckled, and foxy-red—disclosed meeting.”
itself beneath it. Nigel raised himself on his So saying he laid his bleeding head upon
elbow for an instant. his enemy’s brazen front, and sank into a
“ You are the Red Ferret ? ” said he. dead faint.

( T o be continued.)
“ A SUDDEN W IL D , F IE R C E SH O U T PEALED UP TO T IIE V A U L T E D C E IL IN G .”

(See p a p 13.)
 T he St r a n d M agazine.
VoL xxxii. JU L Y , 1906. No. 187.

SIR NIGEL.
B y A . C O N A N D O Y L E .

C H A P T E R XV. afterwards, the beauty and the splendour, the

flying lambrequins, the jewelled crests, the
HOW T H E R E D F E R R E T CAM E TO COS FORD.
blazonry and richness of surcoat and of shield,
H E old chronicler in his where sable and gules, argent and vair, in every
“ Gestes du Sieur Nigel ” has pattern of saltire, bend, or chevron, glowed
bewailed his broken narrative, beneath him like a drift of many-coloured
which rose from the fact that blossoms, tossing, sinking, stooping into
out of thirty-one years of war­ shadow, springing into light. There glared
fare no less than seven were the blood-red pile of Chandos, and he saw
spent by his hero at one time or another in the tall figure of his master, a thunderbolt of
the recovery from his wounds or from those war, raging in the van. There, too, were the
illnesses which arise from privation and three black chevrons on the golden shield
fatigue. Here at the very threshold of his which marked the noble Manny. That
career, on the eve of a great enterprise, this strong swordsman must surely be the Royal
very fate befell him. Stretched upon a Edward himself, since only he and the black-
couch in a low-roofed and ill-furnished armoured, swift-footed youth at his side were
chamber which looks down from under the marked by no symbol of heraldry. “ Manny !
machicolated corner turret upon the inner Manny ! George for England! ” rose the
court of the Castle of Calais, he lay half­ deep-throated bay, and ever the gallant
unconscious and impotent while great deeds counter-cry: “ A Chargny ! A Chargny !
were doing under his window. Wounded in St. Denis for France ! ” thundered amid the
three places, and with his head splintered by clash and thudding of the battle. Such was
the sharp pommel of the Ferret’s mace, he the vague, whirling memory still lingering in
hovered betwixt life and death, his shattered Nigel’s mind when at last the mists cleared
body drawing him downwards, his youthful away from it, and he found himself weak, but
spirit plucking him up. clear, on the low couch in the corner turret.
As in some strange dream, he was aware Beside him, crushing lavender betwixt his
of that deed of arms within the courtyard rough fingers and strewing it over floor and
below. Dimly it came back to his memory sheets, was Aylward the archer. His long
afterwards— the sudden startled shout, the bow leaned at the foot of the bed, and his
crash of metal, the slamming of great gates, steel cap was balanced on the top of it,
the roar of many voices, the clang, clang, while he himself, sitting in his shirt-sleeves,
clang, as of fifty lusty smiths upon their fanned off the flies and scattered the fragrant
anvils—and then at last the dwindling of the herbs over his helpless master.
hubbub, the low groans and sudden shrill “ By my hilt! ” he cried, with a sudden
cries to the saints, the measured murmur of shout, every tooth in his head gleaming with
many voices, the heavy clanking of armoured joy, “ I thank the Virgin and all the saints for
feet. Some time in that fell struggle he must this blessed sight! I had not dared to go
have drawn his weakened body as far as the back to Tilford had I lost you. Three weeks
narrow window, and hanging to the iron bars have you lain there and babbled like a babe,
have looked down on the wild scene beneath but now I see in your eyes that you are your
him. In the red glare of torches held from own man again.”
windows and from roof he saw the rush and “ I have indeed had some small hurt,” said
swirl o f men beneath him, the ruddy light Nigel, feebly, “ but it is shame and sorrow
shining back from glowing brass and gleam­ that I should lie here if there is work for my
ing steel. As a wild vision it came to him hands. Whither go you, archer?”
Vol. x x x ii.—1 Copyright, 1906, by A. Conan Doyle, in the United Stales of America.
 4 TH E STRAN D M A G A Z IN E .

“ It was an evil
deed.”
Aylward shrugged
his shoulders.
“ I tried to save
one boy,” said he,
“ but Cock Bad-
ding would not
have it, and he had
Black Simon and
the others at his
back. ‘ It is the
custom of the Nar­
row S e a s ,’ 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
“ ‘ i H A V E IN D E E D HAD SOME SM A L L H UR T,' SAID NIG l , . '
f e e b l y has once borne me back
to England.”
“ To tell the good Sir John that you are “ Nay ; there are great happenings upon
mending.” the sea, and many worthy people to be found
“ Nay; bide with me a little longer, upon ships,” said Nigel. “ In all parts, if
Aylward. I can call to mind all that has one goes far enough upon the water, one
passed. There was a bickering of small would find those whom it would be joy to
boats, was there not, and I chanced upon a meet. If one crosses over the Narrow Sea,
most worthy person and exchanged hand- as we have done, we come on the French,
strokes with him? He was mv prisoner, was who are so needful to us, for how else would
he not ? ” we win worship ? Or if you go south, then
“ He was, fair sir.” in time one may hope to come to the land
“ And where is he now? ” of the unbelievers, where there is fine skir­
“ Below, in the castle.” mishing and much honour for him who will
A smile stole over Nigel’s pale face. venture his person. Bethink you, archer, how
“ I know what I will do with him,” said he. fair a life it must be when one can ride
“ I pray you to rest, fair sir,” said Aylward, forth in search of advancement with some
anxiously. “ The King’s own leech saw you hope of finding many debonair cavaliers
this morning, and he said that if the bandage upon the same quest, and then if one be
were torn from your head you would surely overborne one has died for the faith, and the
die.” gates of heaven are open before you. So
“ Nay, good archer, I will not move. But also the sea to the north is a help to him
tell me what befell upon the boat.” who seeks honour, for it leads to the country
“ There is little to tell, fair sir. Had this of the Eastlanders, and to those parts where
Ferret not been his own squire and taken so the heathen still dwell who turn their faces
long a time to don his harness it is likely from the blessed Gospel. There also a man
that they would have had the better of us. might find some small deeds to do, and by
He did not reach the battle till his comrades St. Paul, Aylward, if the French hold the
were on their backs. Him we took to the truce and the good Sir John permits us, I
M ane Rose, because he was your man. The would fain go down into those parts. The
others were of no worth, so we threw them sea is a good friend to the cavalier, for it
into the sea.” takes him where he may fulfil his vows.”
“ The quick and the dead ? ” Aylward shook his head, for his memories
“ Every man of them.” were too recent, but he said nothing, because
 SIR N IG E L. 5
at this instant the door opened and Chandos at the table and made good cheer with
entered. With joy in his face he stepped them. And all this, Nigel, we owe to you.”
forward to the couch and took Nigel’s hand The squire flushed with pleasure at the
in his. Then he whispered a word in words.
Aylward’s ear, who hurried from the room. “ Nay, most honoured lord, it was but a
“ Pardieu ! this is a good sight,” said the small thing which I have been able to do.
knight. “ I trust that you will soon be on But I thank God and our Lady that I have
your feet again.” done some service, since it has pleased you
“ I crave your pardon, my honoured lord, to take me with you to the wars. Should it
that I have been absent from your side,” said chance------”
N igel. But the words were cut short upon Nigel’s
“ In truth my heart was sore for you, lips, and he lay back with amazed eyes staring
Nigel, for you have missed such a night as from his pallid face. The door of his little
comes seldom in any man’s life. All went chamber had opened, and who was this— the
even as we had planned. The postern gate tall, stately man with the noble presence,
w’as opened and a party made their way in, the high forehead, the long, handsome face,
but w’e awaited them, and all were taken or the dark, brooding eyes— who but the noble
slain. But the greater part of the French had Edward of England ?
remained without upon the plain of Nieullet, “ Ha, my little cock of Tilford Bridge, I
so w'e took horse and went out against them. still bear you in mind,” said he. “ Right
When we drew near
them they were sur­
prised, but they made
g o o d chee r amo ng
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
w as heard by our
people in the van, who
cried out to them, ‘ By
St. George, you speak
t ru th ! E v i l befall
him who thinks of fly­
ing.’ So they held
t h e i r 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
wTith Sir J o h n de
Landas, old Ballieul
of the Yellow Tooth,
and his brother Hector
th e Leo p ar d. But
above all Sir Eustace
de Ribeaumont was at
great pains to meet “ ‘ , M Y L I T T L E COCK
h a OF T IL F O R D BRIDGE, I STILL B E A K YOU IN M I N D , ’ S A I D H E . ”

us worthily, and he
was at handstrokes with the King for a long glad I was to hear that you had found your
time. Then, when we had slain or taken wits again, and I trust that I have not helped
them all, the prisoners were brought to to make )ou take leave of them once more.”
a feast which was ready for them, and Nigel’s stare of astonishment had brought
the knights of England waited upon them a smile to the King’s lips. Now the squire
 6 TH E ST R A N D M A G A ZIN E .

stammered fortli some halting words of Because he is mine. Because I promised

gratitude at the honour done to him. him his life, and it is not for you, King
“ Nay, not a word,” said the King. “ But though you be, to constrain a man of gentle
in sooth it is a joy to my heart to see the blood to break his plighted word and lose
son of my old comrade, Eustace Eoring, his honour.”
carry himself so bravely. Had this boat got Chandos laid his soothing hand upon his
before us with news of our coming, then squire’s shoulder.
all our labour had been in vain, and no “ Excuse him, sire. He is weak from his
Frenchman come to Calais that night. But wounds,” said he. “ Perhaps we have stayed
above all I thank you for that you have overlong, for the leech has ordered repose.”
delivered into my hands one whom I had But the angry King was not easily to be
vowed to punish, in that he has caused us appeased.
more scathe by fouler means than any living “ I am not wont to be so browbeat,” said
man. Twice have I sworn that Peter the he, hotly. “ This is your squire, Master
Red Ferret shall hang, for all his noble John. How comes it that you can stand
blood and coat-armour, if ever he should fall there and listen to his pert talk, and say no
into my hands. Now at last his time has word to chide him ? Is it thus you guide
come, but I would not put him to death your household ? Have you not taught him
until you, who had taken him, could be there that every promise given is subject to the
to see it done. Nay, thank me not, for I King’s consent, and that with him only lie
could do no less, seeing that it is to you that the springs of life and death ? If he be sick,
I owe him.” you at least are hale. Why stand you there
But it was not thanks which Nigel was in silence?”
trying to utter. It was hard to frame his “ My liege,” said Chandos, gravely, “ I
words, and yet they must be said. have served you for over a score of years,
" Sire,” he murmured, “ it ill becomes me and have shed my blood through as many
to cross your Royal will------” wounds in your cause, so that you should not
The dark Plantagenet wrath gathered upon take my words amiss. But, indeed, I should
the King’s high brow and gloomed in his feel myself to be no true man if I did not
fierce, deep-set eyes. tell you that my Squire Nigel, though per­
“ By God’s dignity, no man has ever chance he has spoken more bluntly than
crossed it yet and lived unscathed. How becomes him, is none the less right in this
now, young sir; what mean such words, to matter, and that you are wrong. For be­
which we are little wont ? Have a care, for think you, sire----- ”
this is no light thing which you venture.” “ Enough ! ” crie'd the King, mo.„ furious
“ Sire,” said Nigel, “ in all matters in which than ever. “ Like master, like man, and I
I am a free man I am ever your faithful might have known why it is that this saucy
liege, but some things there are which may squire dares to bandy words with his sove­
not be done.” reign lord. He does but give out what he
“ H o w ? ” cried the King. “ In spite of hath taken in. John, John, you grow over­
my will ? ” bold. But this I tell you, and you also, young
“ In spite of your will, sire,” said Nigel, man, that, as God is my help, ere the sun has
sitting up on his couch with white face and set this night the Red Ferret shall hang as
blazing eyes. a warning to all spies and traitors from the
“ By the Virgin ! ” the angry King highest tower of Calais, that every ship upon
thundered, “ we are come to a pretty pass. the Narrow Seas, and every man for ten miles
You have been held too long at home, young round, may see him as he swings and know
man. The overstabled horse will kick. The how heavy is the hand of the English King.
unweathered hawk will fly at check. See to Do you bear it in mind, lest you also may
it, Master Chandos ; he is thine to break, and feel its weight.”
I hold you to it that you break him. And With a glare like an angry lion he walked
what is it that Edward of England may not from the room, and the iron-clamped door
do, Master E oring?” clanged loudly behind him. Chandos and
Nigel faced the King with a face as grim Nigel looked ruefully at each other. Then
as his own. the knight patted his squire upon his
“ You may not put to death the Red bandaged head.
Ferret.” “ You have carried yourself right well,
“ Pardieu ! And why ? ” Nigel ; I could not wish for better, hear
“ Because he is not thine to slay, sire. not. All will be well.”
 SIX N IG E L 7
“ My fair and honoured lord,” cried Nigel, 441 pray you to sit beside me and be at
“ I am heavy at heart, for indeed I could do your ease, ’ said Nigel. 44In a few words I
no other; and yet I have brought trouble will tell you what I would have you do.
upon you.” Your armour I will keep, that I may have
“ Nay ; the clouds will soon pass. If he some remembrance of my good fortune in
does indeed slay this Frenchman you have meeting so valiant a gentleman. We are of
done all that lay within your power, and your a size, and I make little doubt that I can wear it.
mind may rest easy.” Of ransom I would ask a thousand crowns.”
“ I pray that it will rest easy in Paradise,” “ Nay, nay,” cried the Ferret; “ it would
said Nigel, “ for at the hour that I hear that be a sad thing if a man of my position
I am dishonoured and my prisoner slain I were worth less than five thousand.”
tear this bandage from my head and so end 44 A thousand will suffice, fair sir, to pay
all things. I will not live when once my my charges for the war. You will not again
word is broken.” play the spy, nor do us harm until the truce
“ Nay, fair son, you take this thing too is broken ? ”
heavily,” said Chandos, with a grave face. 44That I will swear.”
“ When a man hath done all he may there “ And, lastly, there is a journey that you
remains no dishonour ; but the King hath a shall make.”
kind heart for all his hot head, and it may be The Frenchman’s face lengthened.
that if I see him I will prevail upon him. “ Where you order I must go,” said he ;
Bethink you how he swore to hang the six 44but I pray you that it is not to the Holy
burghers of this very town, and yet he Land.”
pardoned them. So keep a high heart, fair son, “ Nay,” said Nigel, 44 but it is to a land
and I will come with good news ere evening.” which is holy to me. You will make your
For three hours, as the sinking sun traced way back to Southampton.”
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 ex­
pected and yet would most
gladly have seen. It was
the R ed 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 s ir ! ” he cried.
“ T he 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. 4Curse this
mule - headed squire ! ’ he
cried. 41 n 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.” ‘ YOU H A V E S A V E D M K, MOST N O B L E SIR ! ’ H E C R I E D ."
 8 TH E STR A N D M AGAZINE.

“ I know it well. I helped to burn it of Hindhead until, as she looked after them,
down some years ago.” they were but two dark dots in the distance,
“ I rede you to say nothing of that matter waist-high in the ling and the bracken.
when you get there. You will then journey She turned back to the house, a smile
as though to London until you come to a upon her face. Nigel had sent her greeting.
fair town named Guildford.” A Frenchman had brought it. His bringing
“ I have heard of it. l'he King hath a it had made him a free man. And St
hunt there.”
“ The same. You will then ask for
a house named Cosford, two leagues
from the town on the side of a long
hill.”
“ I will bear it in mind.”
“ At Cosford you will see
a good knight named Sir
John Buttesthorn, and you
will ask to have speech
with his daughter, the Lady
Mary.”
“ I will do so. And what
shall I say to the Lady
Mary, who lives at Cosford,
on the slope of a long hill
two leagues from the fair
town of Guildford ? ”
.“ Say only that I sent my
greeting, and that St.
Catherine 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 St. Matthew,
the Lady Mary, as she
walked from Cosford gates,
met with a strange horse *‘ A K K YOU BY CHANCE TH E LADY M A R Y WHO D W E L L S T H E R E ? ”

man, richly clad, a serving-

man behind him, looking shrewdly about him Catherine had been Nigel’s friend. It was
with quick blue eyes, which twinkled from a at her shrine that he had sworn that three
red and freckled face. At sight of her he deeds should be done ere he should set eyes
doffed his hat and reined his horse. upon her again. In the privacy of her room
“ This house should be Cosford,” said he. the Lady Mary sank upon her prie-dieu and
“ Are you by chance the Lady Mary who poured forth the thanks of her heart to the
dwells there?” Virgin that one deed was accomplished ; but
The lady bowed her proud, dark head. even as she did so her joy was overcast by
“ Then,” said he, “ Squire Nigel Loring the thought of those two others which lay
sends you greeting and tells you that before him.
St. Catherine has been his friend.” Then
turning to his servant, he cried, “ Heh, CH APTER XVI.
Raoul, our task is done. Your master is a HOW T H E K IN G ’S COURT F E A S T E D IN
free man once more. Come, lad, com e; the C ALAIS C ASTLE.
nearest port to France ! H oli ! hola ! hola ! ” I t was a bright, sunshiny morning when
And so, without a word more, the two, master Nigel found himself at last able to leave his
and man, set spurs to their horses and turret chamber and to walk upon the rampart
galloped like madmen down the long slope of the castle. There was a brisk northern
 SIR N IG E L. 9

wind, heavy and wet with the salt of the sea, bow twangs, so it also has a sound when you
and he felt, as he turned his face to it, fresh loose it.”
life and strength surging in his blood and “ There is no one to hear, since we are
bracing his limbs. He took his hand from alone upon the rampart, nor can it do scathe,
Aylward’s supporting arm, and stood with since it points to sea. I pray you to loose it
his cap off, leaning on the rampart and and I will listen to the sound.” He bent
breathing in the cold, strong air. Far off over the bombard with an attentive ear,
upon the distant sky-line, half hidden by the while Aylward, stooping his earnest, brown
heave of the waves, was the low white fringe face over the touch - hole, scraped away
o f cliffs which skirted England. Between diligently with a flint and steel. A moment
him and them lay the broad blue Channel, later both he and Nigel were seated some
seamed and flecked with flashing foam, for a distance off upon the ground, while amid the
sharp sea was running, and the few ships in roar of the discharge and the thick cloud of
sight were labouring heavily. Nigel’s eyes smoke they had a vision of the long, black,
traversed the widespread view, rejoicing in snake-like engine shooting back upon the
the change from the grey wall of his cramped recoil. For a minute or more they were
chamber. Finally they settled upon a strange struck motionless with astonishment, while
object at his very feet. the reverberations died away and the smoke-
It was a long, trumpet shaped engine of wreaths curled slowly up to the blue heavens.
leather and iron, bolted into a rude wooden “ Good lack ! ” cried Nigel, at last, picking
stand and fitted with wheels. Beside it lay himself up and looking round him. “ Good
a heap of metal slugs and lumps of stone. lack, and Heaven be my aid ! I thank the
T h e end of the machine was raised and Virgin that all stands as it did before. I
pointed over the battlement. Behind it thought that the castle had fallen.”
stood an iron box which Nigel opened. It “ Such a bull’s bellow I have never heard,”
was filled with a black coarse powder, like cried Aylward, rubbing his injured limbs ;
gritty charcoal. “ one could hear it from Frensham Pond to
“ By St. P au l! ” said he, passing his Guildford Castle. I would not touch one
hands over the engine, “ I have heard men. again—not for a hide of the best land in
talk of these things, but never before have Puttenham ! ”
I seen one. It is none other than one of “ It may fare ill with your own hide,
these wondrous new-made bombards.” archer, if you do,” said an angry voice behind
“ In sooth, it is even as you say,” Aylward them. Chandos had stepped from the open
answered, looking at it with contempt and door of the corner turret and stood looking
dislike in his face. “ I have seen them here at them with a harsh gaze. Presently, as the
upon the ramparts, and have also exchanged matter was made clear to him, his face
a buffet or two with him who had charge of relaxed into a smile.
them. He was Jack-fool enough to think “ Hasten to the warden, archer, and tell
that with this leather pipe he could outshoot him how it befell. You will have the castle
the best archer in Christendom. I lent him and the town in arms. I know not what the
a cuff on the ear that laid him across his King may think of so sudden an alarm. And
foolish engine.” you, Nigel, how, in the name of the saints,
“ It is a fearsome thing,” said Nigel, who came you to play the child like this ? ”
had stooped to examine it. “ We live in “ I knew not its power, fair lord.”
strange times when such things can be made. “ By my soul, Nigel, I think that none of
It is loosed by fire, is it not, which springs us know its power. I can see the day when
from the black dust ? ” all that we delight in, the splendour and
“ By my hilt, fair sir, I know not. And glory of war, may all go down before that
yet I call to mind that ere we fell out this which beats through the plate of steel as
foolish bombardman did say something of easily as the leathern jacket. I have bestrode
the matter. The fire-dust is within, and so my war-horse in my armour and have looked
also is the ball. Then you take more dust down at the sooty, smoky bombardman
from this iron box and place it in the hole at beside me, and I have thought that perhaps
the farther end, s o ! It is now ready. I I was the last of the old and he the first of
have never seen one fired, but I wot that the new— that there w’ould come a time
this one could be fired now.” when he and his engines would sweep you
“ It makes a strange sound, archer, does and me and the rest of us from the field.”
it not?” said Nigel, wistfully. “ But not yet, I trust, honoured sir.”
“ So I have heard, fair sir. Even as the “ No, not yet, Nigel. You are still in
Voi. x x x il-2
 IO TH E STR A N D M A G A ZIN E .

“ ‘ SU CH a BULLS BELLOW I HAVE NEVER H E A R D ,’ CRIED A Y LW A R D .”

time to win your spurs even as your fathers hands of the Rohans, of Gap-tooth Beau-
did. How is your strength ? ” manoir, of Oliver the Flesher, and others,
“ I am ready for any task, my good and have been heavy upon our people. The last
honoured lord.” tidings have been of disaster, and the King’s
“ It is well, for work awaits u s— good soul is dark with wrath for that his friend
work, pressing work, work of peril and of and comrade, Gilles de St. Pol, has been
honour. Your eyes shine and your face done to death in the Castle of I^a Brohiniere.
flushes, Nigel. I live my own youth over He will send succours to the country, and we
again as I look at you. Know then that, go at their head. How like you that, Nigel ?”
though there is truce with the French here, “ My honoured lord, what could I ask for
there is no truce in Brittany, where the better ? ”
houses of Blois and of Montfort still struggle “ Then have your harness ready, for we
for the dukedom. Half Brittany fights for start within the week. Our path by land is
one and half for the other. The French blocked by the French, and we go by sea.
have taken up the cause of Blois and we of This night the King gives a banquet ere he
Montfort, and it is such a war that many a returns to England, and your place is behind
great leader, such as Sir Walter Manny, has my chair. Be in my chamber that you may
first earned his name there. Of late the help me to dress, and so we will to the hall
war has gone against us, and the bloody together.”
 SIR N IG EL. ii

With satin and with samite, with velvet and Percies, the silver swallows of Arundel, the
with fur, the noble Chandos was dressed for red roebuck of the Montacutes, the star of
the King’s feast, and Nigel too had donned the de Veres, the silver scallops of Russell,
his best silk jupon, faced with the five scarlet the purple lion of de Lacy, and the black
roses, that he might wait upon him. In the crosses of Clinton. A friendly squire at
g r e a t hal l of N i g e l ’ s elbow
Calais Castle the whispered the
tables were s e t : n a m e s o f t he
a high table for famous warriors
th e l o r d s ; a beneath.
second tine for “ You are
the less distin­ young Coring of
guished knights ; T i l f o r d , t he
a third at which squire of Chan­
the squires might dos, are you not ?”
feast when their said he. “ My
m a s t e r s were name is Delves,
sated. Never and I come from
had Nigel in his Doddington, in
simple life at Til- Cheshire. I am
ford pictured a the squire of Sir
scene of such James Audley,
pomp and won­ yon der round-
drous luxury. The backed man with
grim, grey walls the dark face and
were covered c l o s e -cropped
from ceiling to beard, who hath
floor with price­ the S a r a c e n ’s
less tapestry of head as a crest
Arras, where hart, above him.”
h o u nd s , and “ I have heard
huntsmen circled of him as a man
the great hall of great valour,”
with one long said Nigel, gazing
living image of a t h im w it h
the chase. Over interest.
the principal table “ Indeed, you
drooped a line of may well say so,
ba n n e r s, and Master Coring.
b e n e a t h them He is the bravest
r ows of e m- knight in Eng­
blazoned shields l and, and in
upon the wall Christendom
cariied the arms also, as I believe.
of the high noble­ W I T H S A T I N A N D W I T H S A M I T E , W I T H V E L V E T A N D W IT H FI R, T H E
No man hath
men who sat be­ N O BLE CHANDOS W AS D R E S S E D FOR T H E K IN G 'S F E A S T .'' done such deeds
neath. The red of valour.”
light of cressets and of torches burned upon Nigel looked at his new acquaintance with
the badges of the great captains of England. hope in his eyes.
The lions and lilies shone over the high “ You speak as it becomes you to speak
dorseret chair in the centre, and the same when you uphold your own master,” said he.
august device marked with the cadency label “ For the same reason, Master Delves, and
indicated the seat of the Prince, while glowing in no spirit of ill-will to you, it behoves me
to right and to left were the long lines to tell you that he is not to be compared
of noble insignia, honoured in peace and in name or fame with the noble knight on
terrible in war. There shone the gold and whom I wait. Should you hold otherwise,
sable of Manny, the engrailed cross of Suffolk, then surely we can debate the matter in
the red chevron of Stafford, the scarlet and whatever way or time may please you best.”
gold of Audley, the blue lion rampant of the Delves smiled good-humouredly.
 12 TH E STR A N D M A G A ZIN E .

“ Nay, be not so hot,” said he. “ Had tidings,” he continued. “ See now, he has
you upheld any other knight, save, perhaps, whispered it to Chandos and to Manny.
Sir Walter Manny, I had taken you at your Manny spreads it on to Sir Reginald
word, and your master or mine would have Cobham, and he to Robert Knolles, each
had place for a new squire. But, indeed, it smiling like the devil over a friar.”
is only truth that no knight is second to “ Which is Sir Robert Knolles?” asked
Chandos, nor would I draw my sword to Nigel, with interest. “ I have heard much
lower his pride of place. Ha, Sir James’s of him and his deeds.”
cup is low ! I must see to i t ! ” He darted “ He is the tall, hard-faced man in yellow
off, a flagon of Gascony in his hand. “ The silk, he with the hairless cheeks and the split
King hath had good news to-night,” he con­ lip. He is little older than yourself, and his
tinued, when he returned. “ I have not seen father was a cobbler in Chester, yet he has
him in so merry a mind since the night when already won the golden spurs. See how he
we took the Frenchmen and he laid his dabs his great hand in the dish and hands
pearl chaplet upon the head of de Ribeau- forth the gobbets. He is more used to a
mont. See how he laughs, and the Prince camp kettle than a silver plate. The big
also. That laugh bodes someone little good man with the black beard is Sir Bartholomew
or I am the more mistaken. Have a care! Berghersh, whose brother is the Abbot of
Sir John’s plate is empty.” Beaulieu. Haste ! haste ! for the boar’s head
It was Nigel’s turn to dart away, but ever comes and the plates to be cleaned.”

‘ haste ! haste ! for t h e b o a r ’s h e a d c o m e s . ”

in the intervals he returned to the corner The table manners of our ancestors at this
whence he could look down the hall and period would have furnished to the modern
listen to the words of the older squire. eye the strangest mixture of luxury and of
Delves was a short, thick-set man, past middle barbarism. Forks were still unknown, and
age, weather-beaten and scarred, with a rough the courtesy lingers, the index and the middle
manner and bearing which showed that he of the left hand, took their place. To use
was more at his ease in a tent than a hall. any others was accounted the worst of
But ten years of service had taught him manners. A crowd of dogs lay among the
much, and Nigel listened eagerly to his talk. rushes, growling at each other and quarrelling
“ Indeed the King hath some good over the gnawed bones which were thrown to
 SIR N IG E L. *3

them by the feasters. A slice of coarse bread the gold-linked belt girdling his many-
served usually as a plate, but the King’s coloured tabard. On his head he had placed
own high table was provided with silver the heraldic barret cap which bespoke his
platters, which were wiped by the squire dignity, and he slowly raised his white wand
or page after each course. On the other high in the air, while a great hush fell upon
hand, the table linen was Costly, and the the hall.
courses, served with A pomp and dignity now “ My lords of England,” said he, “ knight
unknown, comprised such a variety of dishes bannerets, knights, squires, and all others
and such complex marvels of cookery as no here present of gentle birth and coat-armour,
modem banquet could show. Besides all know that your dread and sovereign lord,
our domestic animals and every kind of Edward, King of England and of France,
game, such strange delicacies as hedgehogs, bids me give you greeting, and commands
bustards, porpoises, squirrels, bitterns, and you to come hither, that he may have speech
cranes lent variety to the feast. Each new with you.”
course, heralded by a flourish of silver In an instant the tables were deserted and
trumpets, was borne in by liveried servants the whole company had clustered in front of
walking two and two, with rubicund marshals the King’s chair. Those who had sat on
strutting in front and behind, bearing white either side of him crowded inwards, so that
wands in their hands, not only as badges of his tall, dark figure upreared itself amid the
their office, but also as weapons with which dense circle of his guests. With a flush upon
to repel any impertinent inroad upon the his olive cheeks and with pride smouldering
dishes in the journey from the kitchen to the in his dark eyes, he looked round him at the
hall. Boars’ heads, enarmed and endored with eager faces of the men who had been his
gilt tusks and flaming mouths, were followed comrades from Sluys and Cadsand to Crecy
by wondrous pasties moulded to the shape and Calais. They caught fire from that
of ships, castles, and other devices, with sugar warlike gleam in his masterful gaze, and a
seamen or soldiers who lost their own bodies sudden wild, fierce shout pealed up to the
in their fruitless defence against the hungry vaulted ceiling, a soldierly thanks for what
attack. Finally came the great nief, a silver was past and a promise for what was to
vessel upon wheels, laden with fruit and come. The King’s teeth gleamed in a quick
sweetmeats, which rolled with its luscious smile, and his large, white hand played with
cargo down the line of guests. Flagons of the jewelled dagger in his belt.
Gascony, of Rhine wine, of Canary and “ By the splendour of God,” said he, in a
of Rochelle, were held in readiness by the loud, clear voice, “ I have little doubt that
attendants ; but the age, though luxurious, you will rejoice with me this night, for such
was not drunken, and the sober habits of tidings have come to my ears as may well
the Norman had happily prevailed over the bring joy to every one of you. You know
licence of those Saxon banquets where no well that our ships have suffered great scathe
guest might walk from the table without a from the Spaniards, who for many years have
slur upon his host. Honour and hardihood slain, without grace or ruth, all of my people
go ill with a shaking hand or a blurred eye. who have fallen into their cruel hands. Of
Whilst wine, fruit, and spices were handed late they have sent their ships into Flanders,
round the high table the squires had been and thirty great cogs and galleys lie now at
served in turn at the farther end of the Sluys, well filled with archers and men-at-
hall. Meanwhile round the King there had arms and ready in all ways for battle. I
gathered a group of statesmen and soldiers, have it to-day from a sure hand that, having
talking eagerly among themselves. The Earl taken their merchandise aboard, these ships
of Stafford, the Earl of Warwick, the Earl of will sail upon the next Sunday and will make
Arundel, Lord Beauchamp, and Lord Neville their way through our Narrow Sea. We have
were assembled at the back of his chair, with for a great time been long-suffering to these
Lord Percy and Lord Mowbray at either people, for which they have done us many
side. The little group blazed with golden contraries and despites, growing ever more
chains and jewelled chaplets, flame-coloured arrogant as we grow more patient. It is in
paltocks, and purple tunics. Of a sudden my mind, therefore, that we hie us to-morrow
the King said something over his shoulder to Winchelsea, where we have twenty ships,
to Sir William de Pakyngton, the herald, and make ready to sally out upon them as
who advanced and stood by the Royal chair. they pass. May God and St. George defend
He was a tall and noble-featured man, with the right ! ”
long, grizzled beard which rippled down to A second shout, far louder and fiercer than
 14 TH E STRAND M AG A ZIN E.

the first, came like a thunderclap after the and you, Stafford, and you, Arundel, and you,
King’s words. It was the bay of a fierce Audley, and you, Sir Thomas Holland, and
pack to their trusted huntsman. Edward you, Brocas, and you, Berkeley, and you,
laughed again as he looked round at the Reginald. The rest shall be awarded at
gleaming eyes, the waving arms, and the Winchelsea, whither we sail to - morrow.
flushed, joyful faces of his liegemen. Nay, John, why do you pluck so at my
“ Who hath fought against these Spaniards?” sleeve ? ”
he asked. “ Is there anyone here who can Chandos was leaning forward with an
tell us what manner of men they be ? ” anxious face.
A dozen hands went up into the air, but “ Surely, my honoured lord, I have not
the King turned to the Earl of Suffolk at his served you so long and so faithfully that you
elbow. should forget me now? Is there, then, no
“ You have fought them, Thomas ?” said he. ship for me ? ”
“ Yes, sire; I was in the great sea-fight The King smiled, but shook his head.
eight years ago at the Island of Guernsey, “ Nay, John, have I not given you two
when Lord Lewis of Spain held the sea hundred archers and a hundred men-at-arms
against the Earl of Pembroke.” to take with you into Brittany? I trust that
“ How found you them, Thomas ? ” your ships will be lying in St. Malo Bay ere
“ Very excellent people, sire, and no man the Spaniards are abreast of Winchelsea.
could ask for better. On every ship they W’hat more would you have, old war-dog ?
have a hundred cross-bowmen of Genoa, the W’ouldst be in two battles at once ? ”
best in the world, and their spearmen also “ I would be at your side, my liege, when
are very hardy men. They would throw- the lion banner is in the wind once more. I
great cantels of iron from the tops of the have ever been there. W'hy should you cast
masts, and many of our people met their me now ? I ask little, dear lord—a galley, a
death through it. If we can bar
their way in the Narrow- Sea then
there will be much hope of
honour for all of us.”
“ Your words
are very welcome,
T h o m a s , ” said
the King, “ and I
make no doubt
that they will
show themselves
to be very worthy
of what we pre­
pare for them.
To you I give a
ship, that you
may have the
handling of it.
Y ou also, my
dear son, shall
have a ship, that
evermore honour
may be thine.”
“ I thank you,
my fair and sweet
father,” said the
Prince, with joy
flushing his hand­
some, boyish face.
“ The leading
ship shall be
mine. But you
shall have one,
Walter Manny, “w h at m o re w ould you h a v e , old w a r -d o g ?"
 S IP N IG EL. i5

ballinger, even a pinnace, so that I may only aw'ay to an inner chamber, where they might
be there.” discuss the plans for the future. At the
“ Nay, John, you shall com e; I cannot same time the assembly broke up, the knights
find it in my heart to say you nay. I will in silence and dignity, the squires in mirth
find you place in my own ship, that you may and noise, but all joyful at heart for the
indeed be by my side.” thought of the great days which lay before
Chandos stooped and kissed the King’s them.
hand.
“ My squire? ” he asked. C H A P T E R XVII.
The King’s brows knotted into a frown. T H E SP A N IA R D S ON T H E SKA.
“ N a y ; let him go to Brittany with the D a y had not yet dawned when Nigel was in
others,” said he, harshly. “ I wonder, John, the chamber of Chandos preparing him for
that you should bring back to my memory his departure and listening to the last cheery
this youth, whose pertness is too fresh that I words of advice and direction from his noble
should forget it. But someone must go to master. That same morning, before the sun
Brittany in your was half-way up
st ead , for the the heaven, the
matter presses, King’s great nief
and our people Philippa, bearing
are hard put to within it the most
it to hold their of those present
own.” He cast at his banquet
his eyes over the the night before,
as se mb ly , and set its huge sail,
they rested upon adorned with the
the stern features lions and the
o f S ir R o b e rt lilies, and turned
Knolles. its brazen beak
“ Sir Robert,” for England. Be­
he said, “ though hind it went five
you are young in smal l er cogs
years you are crammed with
already old in squires, archers,
war, and I have and men-at-arms.
heard that you Nigel and his
are as prudent in companions
council as you lined the ram­
are valiant in the parts of the castle
field. To you and waved their
I commit the caps as the bluff,
charge of this burly vessels,
venture to Brit­ with drums beat­
tany in place of ing and trumpets
Sir John Chan­ clanging, a hun­
dos, who will dred knightly
follow thither pennons stream­
when our work ing from their
has been done decks and the
upon the waters. red cross of Eng­
Three ships lie in Calais port and three land over all, rolled slowly out to the open
hundred men are ready to your hand. Sir John sea. Then, when they had watched them
will tell you what our mind is in the matter. until they were hull down, they turned, with
And now', my friends and good comrades, hearts heavy at being left behind, to make
you will haste you each to his own quarters, ready for their own more distant venture.
and you will make swiftly such preparations It took them four days of hard work ere
as are needful, for, as God is my aid, I will their preparations were complete, for many
sail with you to Winchelsea to-morrow.” were the needs of a small force sailing to
Beckoning to Chandos, Manny, and a few a strange country. Three ships had been
of his chosen leaders, the King led them left to them, the cog Thomas of Romney, the
 i6 TH E STR A N D M A G A ZIN E .

Grace-Dieu of Hythe, and the Basilisk, of Wat of Carlisle in all that makes an archer.
Southampton, into each of which one hundred The men-at-arms, too, were war-hardened
men were stowed, besides the thirty seamen soldiers, with Black Simon of Norwich— the
who formed the crew. In the hold were same who had sailed from Winchelsea— to
forty horses, amongst them Pommers, much lead them. With his heart filled with hatred
wearied by his long idleness and homesick for the French, who had slain all who were
for the slopes of Surrey, where his great dear to him, he followed like a bloodhound
limbs might find the work he craved. Then over land and sea to any spot where he might
the food and the water, the bowstaves and glut his vengeance. Such also were the men
the sheaves of arrows, the horseshoes, the who sailed in the other ships, Cheshire men
nails, the hammers, the knives, the axes, the from the Welsh borders in the cog Thomas,
ropes, the vats of hay, the green fodder, and and Cumberland men, used to Scottish war­
a score of other things were packed aboard. fare, in the Grace-Dieu. Sir James Astley
Always by the side of the ships stood the stern hung his shield of cinquefoil ermine over the
young knight, Sir Robert, checking, testing, quarter of the Thomas. Lord Thomas Percy,
watching, and controlling, saying little, for he a cadet of Alnwick, famous already for the
was a man of few words, but with his eyes, high spirit of that house, which for ages was
his hands, and, if need be, his heavy dog- the bar upon the landward gate of England,
whip, wherever they were wanted. The sea­ showed his blue lion rampant as leader of
men of the Basilisk, being from a free port, the Grace-Dieu. Such was the goodly
had the old feud against the men of the company, St. Malo-bound, who warped from
Cinque Ports, who were looked upon by the Calais harbour to plunge into the thick reek
other mariners of England as being unduly of a Channel mist.
favoured by the King. A ship of the West A slight breeze blew from the eastward,
country could scarce meet with one from and the high-ended, round-bodied craft
the Narrow Seas without blood flowing. rolled slowly down the Channel. The mist
Hence sprang sudden broils on the quay­ rose a little at times, so that they had-sight
side, when, with yell and blow, the Thomases of each other dipping and rising upon a
ahd Grace-Dieus, St. Leonard on their lips sleek, oily se a ; but again it would sink down,
and murder in their hearts, would fall upon settling over the top, shrouding the great
the Basilisks. Then, amid the whirl of yard, and finally frothing over the deck until
cudgels and the clash of knives, would spring even the water alongside had vanished from
the tiger-figure of the young leader, lashing their view, and they were afloat on a little
mercilessly to right and left, like a tamer wet raft in an ocean of vapour. A thin, cold
among his wolves, until he had beaten them rain was - falling, and the archers were
howling back to their work. Upon the crowded under the shelter of the over­
morning of the fourth day all was ready, hanging poop and forecastle, where some
and, the ropes being cast off, the three little spent the hours at dice, some in sleep, and
ships were warped down the harbour by many in trimming their arrows or polishing
tbeir own pinnaces until they were swallowed their weapons. At the farther end, seated
up in the swirling folds of a Channel mist. on a barrel as a throne of honour, with trays
Though small in numbers, it was no and boxes of feathers around him, was Bar­
mean force which Edward had dispatched to tholomew the bowyer and fletcher, a fat,
succour the hard-pressed English garrisons bald-headed man, whose task it was to see
in Brittany. There was scarce a man among that every man’s tackle was as it should be,
them who was not an old soldier, and their and who had the privilege of selling such
leaders were men of note in council and in extras as they might need. A group of
war. Knolles flew his flag of the black archers with their staves and quivers filed
raven aboard the Basilisk. With him were before him with complaints or requests,
Nigel and his own squire, John Hawthorn. while half-a-dozen of the seniors gathered at
Of his hundred men forty were Yorkshire his back and listened with grinning or critical
Dalesmen and forty were men of Lincoln, faces to his comments and rebukes.
all noted archers, with old Wat of Carlisle, a “ Canst not string it ? ” he was saying to a
grizzled veteran of Border warfare, to lead young bowman. “ Then surely the string is
them. Already Aylward, by his skill and over-short or the stave over-long. It could
strength, had won his way to an under-officer- not by chance be the fault of thy own baby
ship amongst them, and shared with Long arms, more fit to draw on thy hosen than to
Ned of Widdington, a huge North-country­ dress a war-bow. Thou lazy lurden, thus is
man, the reputation of coming next to famous it strung! ” He seized the stave by the
 S/E N IG E L . i 7
centre in his right hand, leaned the end on scowling back over his shoulder. “ I am
the inside of his right foot, and then, pulling swinking from dawn to night while you
the upper nock down with the left hand, slid are guzzling in an alestake. How now,
the eye of the string easily into place. “ Now, youngster? Overbowed? Put your bow in
I pray thee to unstring it again ! ” said he, the tiller. It draws at sixty pounds—not a
handing it to the bowman. pennyweight too much for a man of your
The youth, with an effort, did so, but he inches. Lay more body to it, lad, and it
was too slow in disengaging his fingers, and will come to you. If your bow be not stiff,
the string, sliding down with a snap from the how can you hope for a twenty-score flight ?
upper nock, caught and pinched them sorely Feathers ! Aye, plenty, and of the best. Here
against the stave. A roar of laughter, like are peacock at a groat each. Surely a dandy
the clap of a wave, swept down the deck as archer like you, Tom Beverley, with gold
the luckless bow­
man danced and
wrung his hand.
“ Serve t he e
well right, thou
redeless f o o l! ”
growded the old
bowyer. “ So fine
a bow is wasted in
such minikin
hands. How now,
Samkin ? I can
teach you little of
your trade, I trow.
H e r e 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 centre of
this red wrapping
of silk. Leave it
and I will tend to
it anon. And you,
Wa t ? A fresh
head on yonder
stele ? Lord, that
a man should carry
“ t h e l u c k l e s s bow man d a n c e d a n d wr ung his ha n d . ”
four trades under
one hat, and be
bowyer, fletcher, earrings in your ears, would have no feather­
stringer, and head- ing but peacocks.”
maker! Four men’s work for old Bartholomew “ So the shaft fly straight I care not of the
and one man’s pay ! ” feather,” said the bowman, a tall young York-
“ N ay, say no more about that,” growled shireman, counting out pennies on the palm
an old, wizened bowman, with a brown parch­ of his horny hand.
ment skin and little beady eyes. “ It is “ Grey goose feathers are but a farthing.
better in these days to mend a bow than to These on the left are a halfpenny, for they
bend one. You who never looked a French­ are of the wild goose, and the second feather
man in the face are pricked off for ninepence of a fenny goose is worth more than the
a day, and I, who have fought five stricken pinion of a tame one. These in the brass
fields, can earn but fourpence.” tray are dropped feathers, and a dropped
“ It is in my mind, John of Tuxford, that feather is better than a plucked one. Buy
you have looked in the face more pots of a score of these, lad, and cut them saddle-
mead than Frenchmen,” said the old bowyer, backed or swine-backed, the one for a dead
Vol. xxxii.—3
 i8 TH E STRAND M A G A ZIN E .

shaft and the other for a smooth-flyer, so with the other two vessels, which were invisible
no man in the company will swing a better- in the fog. Now the high, clear note rang
fletched quiver over his shoulder.” out once more, the call of a fierce sea-creature
It chanced that the opinion of the bowver to its mates, but no answer came back from
on this and other points differed from that of the thick wall which pent them in. Again
Long Ned of Widdington, a surly, straw- and again they called, and again and again
bearded Yorkshireman, who had listened with bated breath they waited for an answer.
with a sneering face to his counsel. Now “ Where is the shipman ? ” asked Knolles.
he broke in suddenly and fiercely upon the “ What is your name, fellow ? Do you dare
bowyer’s talk. call yourself master-mariner ? ”
“ You would do better to sell bows than “ My name is Nat Dennis, fair sir,” said
to try' to teach others how to use them,” said the grey-bearded old seaman. “ It is thirty
he ; “ for indeed, Bartholomew, that head of years since first I showed my cartel and blew
thine has no more sense within it than it has trumpet for a crew at the water-gate of
hairs without. If you had drawn string for Southampton. If any man may call himself
as many months as I have years you would master-mariner, it is surely I.”
know that a straight-cut feather flies smoother “ Where are our two ships ? ”
than a swine-backed, and pity it is that these “ Nay, sir, who can say in this fog ? ”
young bowmen have none to teach them “ Fellow, it was your place to hold them
better.” together.”
This attack upon his professional know­ “ I have but the eyes God gave me, fair
ledge touched the old bowyer on the raw. sir, and they cannot see through a cloud.”
His fat face became suffused with blood and “ Had it been fair, I, who am a soldier,
his eyes glared with fury as he turned upon could have kept them in company. Since it
the archer. Even the white bald pate had was foul we looked to you, who are called a
turned lurid and menacing. mariner, to do so. You have not done it.
“ You seven-foot barrel of lies ! ” he cried. You have lost two of my ships ere the
“ All-Hallows be my aid, and I will teach you venture is begun.”
to open your slabbing mouth against me ! “ Nay, fair sir, I pray you to consider------”
Pluck forth your sword and stand out on “ Enough words ! ” said Knolles, sternly.
yonder deck, that we may see who is the man “ Words will not give me back my two
of us twain. May I never twirl a shaft over hundred men. Unless I find them before I
my thumb-nail if I do not put Bartholomew’s come to St. Malo, I swear by St. Wilfred of
mark upon your thick head, though never an Ripon that it will be an evil day for you.
arm in England could cleave it.” Enough ! Go forth and do what you may.”
A score of rough voices joined at once For five hours, with a light breeze behind
in the quarrel, some upholding the furious them, they lurched through the heavy fog,
bowyer and others taking the part of the the cold rain still matting their beards and
sneering North-countryman. A red-headed shining on their faces. Sometimes they
Dalesman snatched up a sword, but was could see a circle of tossing water for a bow­
felled by a blow from the fist of a Borderer. shot or so in each direction, and then the
Instantly, with a buzz like a swarm of angry wreaths would crawl in upon them once more
hornets, the bowmen were out on the deck, and bank them thickly round. They had
but ere a blow was struck Knolles was long ceased to blow the trumpet for their
amongst them with granite face and eyes of missing comrades, but had hopes when clear
fire. weather came to find them still in sight. By
“ Stand apart, I say ! I will warrant you the shipman’s reckoning they were now about
enough fighting to cool your blood ere you midway between the two shores.
see England once more. Loring, Hawthorn, Nigel was leaning against the bulwarks, his
cut any man down who raises his hand. thoughts away in the dingle at Cosford and
Have you aught to say, you fox-haired out on the heather clad slopes of Hindhead,
rascal?” He thrust his face within two when something struck his ear. It was a
inches of that of the red man who had first thin, clear clang of metal, pealing out high
seized his sword. The fellow shrank back above the dull murmur of the sea, the creak
cowed from his fierce eyes. “ Now, stint of the boom, and the flap of the sail. He
your noise all of you, and stretch your long listened, and again it was borne to his ear, a
ears. Trumpeter, blow once more ! ” bell-like tinkle from amid the mist.
A bugle-call had been sounded every “ Hark, my lord ! ” said he to Sir Robert.
quarter of an hour so as to keep in touch “ Is there not a sound in the fog ? ”
 SIR N IG E L . 19

They both listened together with sidelong great carracks, high-ended and portly, with
heads. Then it rang clearly forth once more, red sides and bulwarks carved and crusted
but this time in another direction. It had with gold. Each had one great sail set and
been on the bow. Now it was on the quarter. was driving down Channel on the same course
Again it sounded—and again. Now it had as the Basilisk. Their decks were thick with
moved to the other bow. Now back to the men, and from their high poops came the
quarter again. Now it was near, and now so weird clashing which filled the air. For one
far that it was but a faint tinkle on the ear. moment they lay there, this wondrous fleet,
By this time every man on board— seamen, ruddy and golden, surging slowly forward,
archers, and men-at-arms— were crowding the framed in grey vapour. The next the clouds
sides of the vessel. All round them there closed in and they had vanished from view.
were noises in the darkness, and yet the wall There was a long hush, and then a buzz of
of fog lay wet against their very faces. And excited voices.
the noises were such as were strange to their “ The Spaniards ! ” cried a dozen bowmen
ears—always the same high musical clashing. and sailors.
The old shipman shook his head and crossed “ I should have known it,” said the ship-
himself. man. “ I call to mind on the Biscay coast
“ In thirty years upon the waters I have how they would clash their cymbals after the
never heard the like,” said he. “ The devil fashion of the heathen Moor with whom they
is ever loose in a fog. Well is he named the fight. But what would you have me do, fair
Prince of Darkness.” sir ? If the fog rises we are all dead men.”
A wave of panic passed over the vessel, “ There were thirty ships at the least,”
and these rough and hardy men, who feared said Knolles, with a moody brow, “ If we
no mortal foe, shook with terror at the have seen them I trow that they have also
shadows of their own minds. They stared seen us. They will lay us aboard.”
into the cloud with blanched faces and “ Nay, fair sir, it is in my mind that our ship
fixed eyes, as though each instant some fear­ is lighter and faster than theirs. If the fog hold
some shape might break in upon them. And another hour we should be through them.”
as they stared there came a gust of wind. “ Stand to your arms ! ” yelled Knolles.
For a moment the fog-bank rose and a circle “ Stand to your arms ! They are on us ! ”
of ocean lay before them. The Basilisk had indeed been spied from
It was covered with vessels. On all sides the Spanish admiral’s ship before the fog
they lay thick upon its surface. They were closed down. With so light a breeze and

“ s h e h u n t e d th ro u g h t h e f o g , a n d t h e n sp r a n g o u t o f i t l i k e a l e a n a n d s t e a l t h y b e a s t upon it s t r e y . "
 20 TH E STR A N D M AG A ZIN E.

such a fog, he could not hope to find her them as the Basilisk lurched onwards and
under sail. But by an evil chance not a left her in the fog.
bowshot from the great Spanish carrack was In their first rush on to the Basilisk the
a low galley, thin and swift, with oars which Spaniards had seized six of the crew and
could speed her against wind or tide. She four unarmed archers. Their throats had
also had seen the Basilisk, and it was to her been cut and their bodies tossed overboard.
that the Spanish leader shouted his orders. Now the Spaniards, who littered the deck,
For a few minutes she hunted through the wounded and dead, were thrust over the
fog, and then sprang out of it like a lean and side in the same fashion. One ran down
stealthy beast upon its prey. It was the into the hold and had to be hunted and
sight of the long, dark shadow gliding after killed, squealing under the blows like a rat
them which had brought that wild shout of in the darkness. Within half an hour no
alarm from the lips of the English knight. sign was left of this grim meeting in the fog,
In another instant the starboard oars of the save for the crimson splashes upon bulwarks
galley had been shipped, the sides of the two and deck. The archers, flushed and merry,
vessels grated together, and a stream of were unstringing their bows once more, for
swarthy, red-capped Spaniards were swarm­ in spite of the water glue the damp air took
ing up the side of the Basilisk and dropping, the strength from the cords. Some were
with yells of triumph, upon her deck. hunting about for arrows which might have
For a moment it seemed as if the vessel stuck inboard, and some tying up small
was captured without a blow being struck, injuries received in the scuffle. But an
for the men of the English ship had run anxious shadow still lingered upon the face
wildly in all directions to look for their arms. of Sir Robert, and he peered fixedly about
Scores of archers might be seen under the him through the fog.
shadow of the forecastle and the poop bend­ “ Go among the archers, Hawthorn,” said
ing their bowstaves to string them with the he to his squire; “ charge them on their lives
cords from their waterproof cases. Others to make no sound ! Their fools’ gabble will be
were scrambling over saddles, barrels, and our undoing. You also, Loring. Go to the
cases in wild search of their quivers. Each after-guard and say the same to them. We are
as he came upon his arrows pulled out a few lost if one of these great ships should spy us.”
to lend to his less fortunate comrades. In For an hour with bated breath they stole
mad haste the men-at arms also were feeling through the fleet, still hearing the cymbals
and grasping in the dark corners, picking up clashing all round them, for in this way the
steel caps which would not fit them, hurling Spaniards held themselves together. Once
them down on the deck,* and snatching the wild music came from above their very
eagerly at any swords or spears that came prow, and so warned them to change their
their way. The centre of the ship was held course. Once also a huge vessel loomed for
by the Spaniards, and, having slain all who an instant upon their quarter, but they turned
faced them, they were pressing up to either two points away from her and she blurred
end before they were made to understand and vanished. Soon the cymbals were but a
that it was no fat sheep, but a most fierce distant tinkling, and at last they died away.
old wolf, which they had taken by the ears. “ It is none too soon,” said the old ship-
If the lesson was late it was the more man, pointing to a yellowish tint in the haze
thorough. Attacked on both sides and hope­ above them. “ See yonder ! It is the sun
lessly outnumbered, the Spaniards, who had which wins through. It will be here anon.
never doubted that this little craft was a Ah ! said I not so ? ”
merchant-ship, were cut off to the last man. A sickly sun, no larger and far dimmer
It was no fight, but a butchery. In vain the than the moon, had indeed shown its face,
survivors ran, screaming prayers to the saints, with cloud-wreaths smoking across it. As
and threw themselves down into the galley they looked up it waxed larger and brighter
alongside. It also had been riddled with before their eyes, a yellow halo spread round
arrows from the poop of the Basilisk, and it, one ray broke through, and then a funnel
both the crew on the deck and the galley- of golden light poured down upon them,
slaves in the outriggers at either side lay widening swiftly at the base. A minute later
dead in rows under the overwhelming shower they were sailing on a clear blue sea with an
from above. From stem to rudder every foot azure, cloud-flecked sky above their heads,
of her was furred with arrows. It was but a and such a scene beneath it as each of them
floating coffin, piled with dead and dying would carry in his memory while memory
men, which wallowed in the waves behind remained.
 SIR N IG E L. 21

They were in mid-Channel. The white But fair as was the view of their lost
and green coasts of Picardy and of Kent lay friends and wondrous the appearance of the
clear upon either side of them. The wide Spanish ships, it was not on those that the
Channel stretched in front, deepening from eyes of the men of the Basilisk were chiefly
the light blue beneath their prow to purple bent. A greater sight lay before them—a
on the far sky-line. Behind them was that sight which brought them clustering to the
thick bank of cloud from which they had just forecastle with eager eyes and pointing
burst. It lay like a grey wall, and through it fingers. The English fleet was coming forth
were breaking the high, shadowy forms of the from the Winchelsea coast. Already before
ships of Spain. Four of them had already the fog lifted a fast galeasse had brought
emerged, their red bodies, gilded sides, and the news down Channel that the Spanish
painted sails shining gloriously in the evening were on the sea, and the King’s fleet
sun. Every instant a fresh golden spot grew was under way. Now their long array
out of the fog, which blazed like a star for an of sails, gay with the coats and colours of
instant, and then surged forward to show itself the towns which had furnished them, lay
as the brazen beak of the great red vessel bright against the Kentish coast from
which bore it. Looking back, the whole bank Dungeness Point to Rye. Nine-and-twenty
of cloud was broken by the widespread line of ships were therefrom Southampton, Shoreham,
noble ships which were bursting through it, Winchelsea, Hastings, Rye, Hythe, Romney,
T he B asilisk lay a mile or more in front of Folkestone, Deal, Dover, and Sandwich. With
them, and two miles clear of their wing. their great sails slued round to catch the
Five miles farther off, in the direction of the wind they ran out, whilst the Spanish, like
French coast, two other small ships were the gallant foes that they have ever been,
running down Channel. A cry of joy from turned their heads landwards to meet them.
Robert Knolles and a hearty prayer of With flaunting banners and painted sails,
gratitude to the saints from the old shipman blaring trumpets and clashing cymbals, the
hailed them as their missing consorts, the cog two glittering fleets, dipping and rising on the
Thomas and the Grace-Dieu. long Channel swell, drew slowly together.

“ t h e tw o g l it t e r in g f l e e t s , d ip pin g a n d r isin g on t h e long c h a n n el sw e ll , d rew slo w ly to g e t h e r ."

(To be continued.)
“ O V E R T H E I R B U L W A R K S IIU NG A C LO U D OF MEN L O C K E D T O G E T H E R
IN A D E S P E R A T E S T R U G G L E .”

(See page 125.)

 T he St r a n d M agazine.
Vol. xxxii. AU GUST, 1906. No. 188

SIR NIGEL.
B y A . C O N A N D O Y L E .

C H A P T E R X V I I .— {Continued.) in the waist below them, laughed at the

THE SPANIARDS ON THE SEA. merry lilt and joined lustily in the chorus,
ING ED W A R D had been while the men of the neighbouring ships
lying all day in his great leaned over the side to hearken to the deep
ship, the Philippa, a mile out chant rolling over the waters.
from the Camber Sands, wait­ But there came a sudden interruption to
ing for the coming of the the song. A sharp, harsh shout came down
Spaniards. Above the huge from the look-out stationed in the circular
sail which bore the Royal arms flew the red top at the end of the mast.
cross of England. Along the bulwarks were “ I spy a sail— two sails ! ” he cried.
shown the shields of forty knights, the flower John Bunce, the King's shipman, shaded
of English chivalry, and as many pennons his eyes, and stared at the long fog-bank
floated from the deck. The high ends of which shrouded the northern Channel.
the ship glittered with the weapons of the Chandos, with his fingers over the strings of
men-at-arms, and the waist was crammed his guitar, the King, the knights, all ga/.ed in
with the archers. From time to time a crash the same direction. Two small, dark shapes
of nakirs and blare of trumpets burst from had burst forth, and then after some minutes
the Royal ship, and was answered by her a third.
great neighbours—the Lion, on which the “ Surely they are the Spaniards ! ” said the
Black Prince flew his .flag; the Christopher, King.
with the Earl of Suffolk ; the Salle du Roi, “ Nay, sire,” the seaman answered ; “ the
of Robert of Namur; and the Grace M arie, Spaniards are greater ships, and are painted
of Sir Thomas Holland. Farther off lay the red. I know not what these may be.”
White Sw an, bearing the arms of Mowbray; “ But I could hazard a guess! ” cried
the Palm er, of Deal, flying the black head Chandos. “ Surely they are the three ships
of Audley ; and the Kentish M an under the with my own men on their way to Brittany.”
Lord Beauchamp. The rest lay, anchored “ You have hit it, John,” said the King.
but ready, at the mouth of Winchelsea “ But look, I pray yo u ! What, in the name
Creek. of the Virgin, is th at?”
The King sat upon a keg in the fore part Four brilliant stars of flashing light had
of his ship, with little John of Richmond, shone out from different points of the cloud­
who was no more than a schoolboy, perched bank. The next instant as many tall ships
upon his knee Edward was clad in the had swooped forth into the sunshine. A
black velvet jacket which was his favourite fierce shout rang from the King’s ship,
garb, and wore a small brown beaver hat and was taken up all down the line until the
with a white plume at the side. A rich whole coast from Dungeness to Winchelsea
cloak of fur turned up with miniver drooped re-echoed the warlike greeting. The King
from his shoulders. Behind him were a sprang up with a joyous face.
score of his knights, brilliant in silks and “ The game is afoot, my friends,” said he.
sarcenets, some seated on an upturned boat “ Busk you, John! Busk you, Walter! Quick,
and some swinging their legs from the all of you ! Squires, bring the harness ! Let
bulwark. In front stood John Chandos in a each tend to himself, for the time is short.”
parti-coloured jupon, one foot raised upon A strange sight it was to see these forty
the anchor stock, picking at the strings of nobles tearing off their clothes and littering
his guitar, and singing a song which he had the deck with velvets and satins, whilst the
learned at Marienburg when last he helped squire of each, as busy as an ostler before a
the Teutonic knights against the heathen. race, stooped and pulled, and strained and
The King, his knights, and even the archers riveted, fastening the bassinets, the leg-pieces,
Vo|. xxxii.—19. Copyright, 1906, by A. Conan Doyle, in the United States of America*
 124 THE ST R A N D M AG A ZIN E.

the front and the back plates, until the silken The art of sailing into a wind had not yet
courtier had become the man of steel. When been invented, nor was there any fore and aft
their work was finished there stood a stern canvas, save for small headsails with which a
group of warriors where the light dandies had vessel could be turned. Hence the English
sung and jested round Sir John’s guitar. fleet had to take a long slant down Channel
Below, in orderly silence, the archers were to meet their enemies, but as the Spaniards,
mustering under their officers and taking their coming before the wind, were equally anxious
allotted stations. to engage, there
A dozen had w as th e l e s s
swarmed up to d e la y . With
their hazardous stately pomp and
post in the little dignity the two
tower in the tops. great fleets ap­
“ Bring wine, proached.
N icholas!” cried • It ch an ce d
th e King. that one fine car-
“ Gentlemen, ere rack had out­
you close your stripped its con­
visors I pray you sorts and came
to take a last sweeping along,
rouse with me. all red and gold,
You will be dry with a fringe of
enough, I pro­ twinkling steel, a
mise you, before good half mile
your lips are free before the fleet.
once more. To Edward looked
what shall we at her with a
drink, John ? ” kindling eye, for
“ To the men indeed she was
of Spain,” said a noble sight,
C h a n d o s, his with the blue
sharp face peer­ water creaming
ing like a gaunt under her gilded
bird through the prow.
gap in his helmet. “ T h i s is a
“ M ay their most worthy and
hearts be stout debonair vessel,
and their spirits Master Bunce,”
high this day ! ” said he to the
“ We l l s a i d , shipman beside
John ! ” cried the him ; “ I would
King, and the fain have a tilt
knights laughed with her. I pray
joyously as they you to hold us
drank. “ Now, straight and stiff,
fair sirs, let each that we may bear
to his post. I am her down.”
warden here on “ If 1 hold her
the fo recastle . straight and stiff
Do you, John, “ A DOZEN S W A R M E D UP TO T H E I R H A Z A R D O U S PO ST. then one or other
take charge of must sink, and it
the after-guard. Walter, James, William, may be both,” the seaman answered.
Fitzallan, Goldesborough, Reginald — you “ I doubt not that with the help of Our
will stay with me. John, you may pick Lady we shall do our part,” said the King.
whom you will, and the others will bide with “ Hold her straight and stiff, master shipman,
the archers. Now bear straight at the centre, as I have told you.”
master shipman. Ere yonder sun sets we will Now the two vessels were within arrow-flight,
bring a red ship back as a gift to our ladies, and the bolts from the cross-bowmen pattered
or never look upon a lady’s face again.” upon the English ship. These short, thick
 SIR NIG EL. I25

devil’s darts were everywhere, humming like ready for battle once more. The King was
great wasps through the air, crashing against glaring round him like a wounded boar.
the bulwarks, beating upon the deck, ringing “ Grapple my ship with that! ” he cried,
loudly on the armour of the knights, or with pointing to the crippled Spaniard, “ for 1
a soft, muffled thud sinking to the socket in would have possession of her.”
a victim. The bowmen along either side of But already the breeze had carried them
the Philippa had stood motionless, waiting past it, and a dozen Spanish ships were bear­
for their orders, but now there was a sharp ing down full upon them.
shout from their leader, and every string “ We cannot win back to her, lest we show
twanged together. The air was full of their our flank to these others,” said the shipman.
harping, together with the swish of the “ Let her go her way,” cried the knights.
arrows, the long-drawn keening of the bow­ “ You shall have better than her.”
men, and the short, deep bark of the under­ “ By St. George, you speak the truth,”
officers— “ Steady ! steady ! Loose ! Steady ! said the King, “ for she is ours when we have
Shoot wholly together ! Twelve score time to take her. These also seem very
paces ! Ten score ! Now eight ! Shoot worthy ships which are drawing up to us,
wholly together! ” Their gruff shouts and I pray you, master shipman, that you
broke through the high, shrill cry like the will have a tilt with the nearest.”
deep roar of a wave through the howl of A great carrack was within a bowshot
the wind. of them, and crossing their bows. Bunce
As the two great ships hurtled together the looked up at his mast and he saw that
Spaniard turned away a few points, so that already it was shaken and drooping. Another
the blow should be a glancing one. None blow and it would be over the side, and his
the less it was terrific. A dozen men in the ship a helpless log upon the water. He
tops of the carrack were balancing a huge jammed his helm round, therefore, and ran
stone with the intention of dropping it over his ship alongside the Spaniard, throwing out
on the English deck. With a scream of his hooks and iron chains as he did so.
horror they saw the mast cracking beneath They, no less eager, grappled the Philippa
them. Over it went, slowly at first, then both fore and aft, and the two vessels, linked
faster, until with a crash it came down on its tightly together, surged slowly over the long
side, sending them flying, like stones from a blue rollers. Over their bulwarks hung a
sling, far out into the sea. A swathe of cloud of men locked together in a desperate
crushed bodies lay across the deck where the struggle, sometimes surging forward on to
mast had fallen. But the English ship had the deck of the Spaniard, sometimes recoil­
not escaped unscathed. Her mast held, it ing back on to the King’s ship, reeling this
is true, but the mighty shock not only way and that, with the swords flickering like
stretched every man flat upon the deck, but silver flames above them, while the long-
had shaken a score of those who lined her drawn cry of rage and agony swelled up like
sides into the sea. One bowman was hurled a wolf’s howl to the calm blue heaven above
from the top and his body fell with a dread­ them.
ful crash at the very side of the prostrate But now ship after ship of the English
King upon the forecastle. Many were had come up, each throwing its irons over
thrown down with broken arms and legs from the nearest Spaniard, and striving to board
the high castles at either end into the waist her high red sides. Twenty ships were drift­
of the ship. Worst of all, the seams had ing in furious single combat after the manner
been opened by the crash and the water was of the Philippa, until the whole surface of
gushing in at a dozen places. the sea was covered with a succession of
But these were men of experience and of these desperate duels. The dismasted
discipline, men who had already fought carrack, which the King’s ship had left
together by sea and by land, so that each behind it, had been carried by the Earl of
knew his place and his duty. Those who Suffolk's Christopher, and the water was
could staggered to their feet and helped up dotted with the heads of her crew. An
a score or more of knights who were rolling English ship had been sunk by a huge stone
and clashing in the scuppers, unable to rise discharged from an engine, and her men also
for the weight of their armour. The bowmen were struggling in the waves, none having
formed up as before. The seamen ran to the leisure to lend them a hand. A second
gaping seams with oakum and with tar. In English ship was caught between two of the
ten minutes order had been restored, and the Spanish vessels and overwhelmed by a rush
Philippa, though shaken and weakened, was of boarders, so that not a man of her was left
 12 6 TH E ST R A N D M A G A Z IN E .

alive. On the other hand, Mowbray and anger from the Spaniards. A seaman had
Audley had each taken the carracks which run from the Lion's hold and whispered in
were opposed to them, and the battle in the the ear of the shipman. He turned an
centre, after swaying this way and that, was ashen face upon the Prince.
turning now in favour of the islanders. “ It is even as I say, sire. The ship is
The Black Prince, with the Lion, the sinking beneath our feet,” he cried.
Grace M arie, and four other ships, had “ The more need that we should gain
swept round to turn the Spanish flank, but another,” said he. “ Sir Henry Stokes, Sir
the movement was seen, and' the Spaniards Thomas Stourton, William, John of Clifton,
had ten ships with which to meet it, one of here lies our road 1 Advance my banner,
them their great carrack, the St. lago di Thomas de Mohun ! On, and the day is
Compostella. To this ship the Prince had ours ! ”
attached his little cog, and strove desperately By a desperate scramble a dozen men, the
to board her ; but her side was so high and Prince at their head, gained a footing on the
the defence so desperate that his men could edge of the Spaniard’s deck. Some slashed
never get beyond her bulwarks, but were furiously to clear a space, others hung over,
hurled down again and again with a clang clutching the rail with one hand and pulling
and clash on to the deck beneath. Her side up their comrades from below. Every
bristled with cross-bowmen, who shot straight instant that they could hold their own their
down on to the packed waist of the Lion, so strength increased, till twenty had become
that the dead lay there in heaps. But most thirty and thirty forty, when of a sudden the
dangerous of all was a swarthy, black-bearded new-comers, still reaching forth to their
giant in the tops, who crouched so that comrades below, saw the deck beneath them
none could see him, but rising every now and reel and vanish in a swirling sheet of foam.
then, with a huge lump of iron between his The Prince’s ship had foundered.
hands, hurled it down with such force that A yell went up from the Spaniards as
nothing would stop it. Again and again they turned furiously upon the small band
these ponderous bolts crashed through the who had reached their deck. Already the
deck and hurtled down into the bottom of Prince and his men had carried the poop,
the ship, starting the planks and shattering and from that high station they beat back
all that came in their way. The Prince, clad their swarming enemies. But cross-bow
in that dark armour which gave him his darts pelted and thudded among their ranks
name, was directing the attack from the poop till a third of their number were stretched
when the shipman rushed wildly up to him. upon the planks. Lined across the deck
with fear on his face. they could hardly keep an unbroken front to
“ Sire ! ” he cried. “ The ship may not the leaping, surging crowd who pressed upon
stand against these blows. A few more will them. Another rush, or another after that,
sink her ! Already the waterfloods inboard.” must assuredly break them, for these dark
The Prince looked up, and as he did so men of Spain, hardened by an endless
the shaggy black beard showed once more struggle with the Moors, were fierce and
and two brown, brawny arms swept down­ stubborn fighters. But hark to this sudden
wards. A great slug, whizzing past, beat a roar upon the farther side of them ! “ St.
gaping hole in the deck, and fell rending George! St. G eorge! A Knolles to the
and riving into the hold below. The master rescue! ” A small craft had run alongside
mariner tore his grizzled hair. and sixty men had swarmed on to the deck
“ Another leak ! ” he cried. “ I pray to of the St. Iago. Caught between two fires
St. Leonard to bear us up this d a y ! the Spaniards wavered and broke. The fight
Twenty of my shipmen are baling with became a massacre. Down from the poop
buckets, but the water rises on them fast. sprang the Prince’s men. Up from the waist
The vessel may not float another hour.” rushed the new-comers. There were five
The Prince had snatched a cross-bow dreadful minutes of blows and screams and
from one of his attendants and levelled it prayers, with struggling figures clinging to the
at the Spaniard's tops. At the very instant bulwarks and sullen splashes into the water
when the seaman stood erect, with a fresh bar below. Then it was over, and a crowd of
in his hands, the bolt took him full in the weary, overstrained men leaned panting upon
face and his body fell forward over the their weapons, or lay breathless and exhausted
parapet, hanging there head downwards. upon the deck of the captured carrack.
A howl of exultation burst from the English The Prince had pulled up his visor and
at the sight, answered by a wild roar of lowered his beevor. He smiled proudly as he
 SIR M GEL. l2^

“ t h e n ew -c o m ers , s t ill r ea c h in g fo rth to t h e ir com rades belo w , saw t h e deck b en ea th th em r e e l ."

gazed around him and wiped his streaming The Prince laughed.
face, “ It would indeed be to ask too much,
“ Where is the shipman?” he asked. Robert, that you should keep on your course
“ Let him lead us against another ship.” when much honour was to be gathered so
“ Nay, sire, the shipman and all his men close to you. But now I pray you that you
have sunk in the Lion,” said Thomas de will come back with us to Winchelsea, for
Mohun, a young knight of the West country well I know that my father would fain
who carried the standard. “ We have lost our thank you for what you have done this
ship and the half of our following. I fear day.”
that we can fight no more.” But Robert Knolles shook his head.
“ It matters the less since the day is already “ I have your father’s command, sire, and
ours,” said the Prince, looking over the sea. without his order I may not go against it.
“ My noble father’s Royal banner flies upon Our people are hard pressed in Brittany, and
yonder Spaniard. Mowbray, Audley, Suffolk, it is not for me to linger on the way. 1 pray
Beauchamp, Namur, Tracey, Stafford, Arundel, you, sire, if you must needs mention me to
each has his flag over a scarlet carrack even the King, to crave his pardon that I should
as mine floats over this. See, yonder squadron have broken my journey thus.”
is already far beyond our reach. But surely “ You are right, Robert. God speed you
we owe thanks to you, who came at so peril­ on your way, and I would that I were sailing
ous a moment to our aid. Your face I have under your banner, for I see clearly that
seen and your coat-armour also, young sir, you will take your people where they may
though I cannot lay my tongue to your worshipfully win worship. Perchance I also
name. Let me know, that I may thank you.” may be in Brittany before the year is
He had turned to Nigel, who stood flushed past.”
and joyous at the head of the boarders from The Prince turned to the task of gathering
the Basilisk. his weary people together, and the Basilisks
“ I am but a squire, sire, and can claim no passed over the side once more and dropped
thanks, for there is nothing that I have done. down on to their own little ship. They poled
Here is our leader.” her off from the captured Spaniard, and they
The Prince’s eyes fell upon the shield set their sail with their prow for the south.
charged with the black raven and the stern Far ahead of them were their two consorts,
young face of him who bore it. beating towards them in the hope of giving
Sir Robert Knolles,” said he, “ I had help, while down Channel were a score of
thought you were on your way to Brittany.” Spanish ships with a few of the English
“ I was so, sire, when I had the fortune to vessels hanging upon their skirts. The sun
see this bickering as I passed.” lay low on the water, and its level beams
 128 TH E STR A N D M AG AZIN E.

glowed upon the scarlet and gold of fourteen staff-strikers who have made their way to this
great carracks, each flying the cross of outland place and hold it against all comers.
St. George, and towering high above the There is one here who could tell you of
cluster of English ships which, with brave them and of their ways, for he was long time
waving of flags and blaring of music, were prisoner amongst them.” The seaman
moving slowly towards the Kentish coast. pointed to Black Simon, the dark man from
__i___ Norwich, who was leaning against the side
C H A P T E R X V III. lost in moody thought, and staring with a
HOW BLACK SIMON CLAIMED FORFEIT FROM brooding eye at the distant shore.
THE KINO OF SARK. “ How now, fellow ? ” asked Knolles.
F or a day and a half the small fleet made “ What is this I hear ? Is it indeed sooth
good progress, but on the second morning, that you have been a captive upon this
after sighting Cape de la Hague, there came island ? ”
a brisk land wind which blew them out to “ It is true, fair sir. For eight months I
sea. It grew into a squall with rain and fog, have been servant to the man whom they
so that they were two more days beating call their King. His name is La Muette,
back. Next morning they found themselves and he comes from Jersey, nor is there
in a dangerous, rock-studded sea with a small under God’s sky a man whom I have more
island upon their starboard quarter. It was desire to see.”
girdled with high granite cliffs of a reddish “ Has he, then, mishandled you ? ”
hue, with slopes of bright green grassland Black Simon gave a wry smile and
above them. A second smaller island lay pulled off his jerkin. His lean, sinewy
beside it. Dennis, the shipman, shook his back was wealed and puckered with
head as he looked. white scars.
“ That is Brechou,” “ He has left his sign of hand
said he, “ and the larger upon me,” said he. “ He swore that
one is the Island of he would break me to his will, and
Sark. If ever I be cast thus he tried to do it. But most I
away, 1 pray the saints
that it may not be upon
yonder coast ! ”
Knolles gazed across
at it.
“ You say well, master
shipman,” said he. “ It
does indeed 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
wind-swept 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,
rievers, escaped bondsmen, murtherers, and “ ‘ h e HAS I-EPT h is s ig n op h a n d upon m e ,' s a id h e ."
 SIR N IG E L . 129

desire to see him because he hath lost a good look at them, but had hurried back
wager to me and I would fain be paid.” with the warning that they were too strong to
“ This is a strange saying,” said Knolles. be touched.
“ What is this wager, and why should he Black Simon found Aylward seated under
pay you ? ” the poop, with his back against Bartholomew
“ It is but a small matter,” Simon answered, the bowyer. He was whistling merrily as he
“ but I am a poor man and the payment carved a girl’s face upon the horn of his
would be welcome. Should it have chanced bow.
that we stopped at this island I should have “ My friend,” said Simon, “ will you come
craved your leave that I go ashore and ask ashore to-night, for I have need of your
for that which I have fairly won.” h e lp ?”
Sir Robert Knolles laughed. Aylward crowed lustily.
“ This business tickleth my fancy,” said “ Will I •come, Simon ? By my hilt, I
he. “ As to stopping at the island, this ship- shall be right glad to put my foot on the good
man tells me that we must needs wait a day brown earth once more. All my life I have
and a night, for that we have strained our trod it, and yet I would never have learned
planks. But if you should go ashore, how its worth had I not journeyed in these cursed
will you be sure that you will be free to ships. We will go on shore together, Simon,
depart, or that you will see this King of whom and we will seek out the women, if there be
you speak ? ” any there, for it seems a long year since I
Black Simon’s dark face was shining with heard their gentle voices, and my eyes are
a fierce joy. weary of such faces as Bartholomew’s or
“ Fair sir, I will ever be your debtor if you thine.”
will let me go. Concerning what you ask, I Simon’s grim features relaxed into a smile.
know this island even as I know the streets “ The only face that you will see ashore,
of Norwich, as you may well believe, seeing Samkin, will bring you small comfort,” said
that it is but a small place and I upon it for he, “ and I warn you that this is no easy
near a year. Should I land after dark, I errand, but one which may be neither sweet
could win my way to the King’s house, and if nor fair, for if these people take us our end
he be not dead or distraught with drink I will be a cruel one.”
could have speech with him alone, for I know “ By my hilt,” said Aylward, “ I am with
his ways and his hours and how he may be you, gossip, wherever you may go. Say no
found. I would ask only that Aylward the more, therefore, for I am weary of living like
archer may go with me, that I may have one a coney in a hole, and I shall be right glad
friend at my side if things should chance to to stand by you in your venture.”
go awry.” That night, two hours after dark, a small
Knolles thought awhile. boat put forth from the Basilisk. It contained
“ It is much that you ask,” said he, “ for, Simon, Aylward, and two seamen. The
by God’s truth, I reckon that you and this soldiers carried their swords and Black
friend of yours are two of my men whom I Simon bore a brown biscuit-bag over his
would be least ready to lose. I have seen shoulder. Under his direction the rowers
you both at grips with the Spaniards, and I skirted the dangerous surf which beat
know you. But I trust you, and if we must against the cliffs until they came to a spot
indeed stop at this accursed place, then you where an outlying reef formed a breakwater.
may do as you will. I f you have deceived Within was a belt of calm water and a
me, or if this be a trick by which you design shallow cove with a sloping beach. Here
to leave me, then God be your friend when the boat was dragged up and the seamen
next we meet, for man will be of small were ordered to wait, while Simon and
a v a il! ” Aylward started on their errand. With
It proved not only that the seams had to the assured air of a man who knows
be caulked, but that the cog Thomas was out exactly where he is and whither he is
of fresh water. The ships moored, therefore, going, the man-at-arms began to clamber up
near the Isle of Brechou, where springs were a narrow, fern-lined cleft among the rocks.
to be found. There were no people upon It was no easy ascent in the darkness, but
this little patch, but over on the farther Simon climbed on like an old dog hot upon
island many figures could be seen watching a scent, and the panting Aylward struggled
them, and the twinkle of steel from among after as best he might. At last they were at
them showed that they were armed men. the summit, and the archer threw himself
One boat had ventured forth and taken a down upon the grass.
Vol. xxxii.—1 7 .
 i 3° TH E ST R A N D M A G A ZIN E .

“ Nay, Simon, I have not enough breath A fierce burst of laughter came out of the
to blow out a candle,” said he. “ Stint your darkness, followed by a long cry of pain.
haste for a minute, since we have a long night “ All-Hallows be with us ! ” cried Aylward.
before us. Surely this man is a friend “ What is that ? ”
indeed, if you hasten so to see him.” “ As like as not some poor devil has fallen
“ Such a friend,” Simon answered, “ that I into their clutches, even as I did. Come
have often dreamed of our next meeting. this way, Samkin, for there is a peat cutting
Now before that moon has set it will have where we may hide. Aye, here it is, but
come.” deeper and broader than of old. Now follow
“ Had it been a wench I could have under­ me close, for if we keep within it we shall find
stood it,” said Ayhvard. “ By these ten ourselves a stone-cast off the King’s house.”
finger-bones, if Mary of the Mill or little Together they crept along the dark cutting.
Kate of Compton had waited me on the Suddenly Simon seized Aylward by the
brow of this cliff I should have come up it shoulder and pushed him into the shadow
and never known it was there. But surely I of the bank. Crouching in the darkness,
see houses and hear voices over yonder in they heard footsteps and voices upon the
the shadow.” farther side of the trench. Two men
“ It is their town,” whispered Simon. sauntered along it and stopped almost at
“ There are a hundred as foul-minded the very spot where the comrades were lying.
cutthroats as are to be found in Christendom Aylward could see their dark figures outlined
beneath those roofs. Hark to that ! ” against the starry sky.
 SIR N IG E L . 131

“ Why should you scold, Jacques ? ” said on, I pray you, and let us see some more of
one o f them, speaking a strange half-French, this ten devil island.”
half-English lingo. “ Le diable t’emporte for For half a mile Simon led the way, until
a grumbling rascal. You won a woman and they came to a large house which stood by
I got nothing. What more would you itself. Peering at it from the edge of the
have ? ” cutting, Aylward could see that it was made
“ You will have your chance off the next from the wreckage of many vessels, for at
ship, mon gar^on, but mine is past. A each corner a prow was thrust out. Lights
woman, it is true—an old peasant out of the blazed within, and there came the sound of
fields, with a face as yellow as a kite’s claw. a strong voice singing a gay song, which was
But Gaston, who threw a nine against my taken up by a dozen others in the chorus.
eight, got as fair a little Normandy lass as “ All is well, lad,” whispered Simon in
ever your eyes have seen. Curse the dice, I great delight. “ That is the voice of the
sa y ! And as to my woman, I will sell her to King. It is the very song he used to sing,
you for a firkin of Gascony.” ' Les Deux Filles de Pierre.’ ’Fore God, my
“ I have no wine to spare, but I will give back tingles at the very sound of it. Here
you a keg of apples,” said the other. “ I had we will wait until his company take their
it out of the Peter and P a u l—the Falmouth leave.”
boat that struck in Creux Bay.” Hour after hour they crouched in the peat­
“ Well, well, your apples may be the worse cutting, listening to the noisy songs of the
for keeping, but so is old Marie, and we can revellers within, some French, some English,
cry quits on that. Come round and drink a and all growing fouler and less articulate as
cup over the bargain.” the night wore on. Once a quarrel broke
They shuffled onwards in the darkness. out, and the clamour was like a cageful of
“ Heard you ever such villain y?” cried wild beasts at feeding-time. Then a health
Aylward, breathing fierce and hard. “ Did was drunk, and there was much stamping and
you hear them, Simon ? A woman for a keg cheering. Only once was the long vigil
of ap p les! And my heart’s root is sad for broken. A woman came forth from the
the other one— the girl of Normandy. Surely house and walked up and down with her
we can land to-morrow and bum all these face sunk upon her breast. She was tall and
water-rats out of their nest.” slender, but her features could not be seen
“ Nay, Sir Robert will not waste time or for a wimple over her head. WeaYy sad­
strength ere he reach Brittany.” ness could be read in her bowed back and
“ Sure I am that if my little master, Squire dragging steps. Once they saw her throw
Loring, had the handling of it, every woman her two hands up to heaven as one who is
on this island would be free ere another day beyond human aid. Then she passed slowly
had passed.” into the house again. A moment later the
“ I doubt it not,” said Simon. “ He is one door of the hall was flung open and a shout­
who makes an idol of woman, after the ing, stumbling throng came crowding forth,
manner of those crazy knight-errants. But with whoop and yell, into the silent night.
Sir Robert is a true soldier, and hath only his Linking arms and striking up a chorus they
purpose in view.” marched past the peat-cutting, their voices
“ Simon,” said Aylward, “ the light is not dwindling slowly away as they made for
over good and the place is cramped for their homes.
sword-play, but if you will step out into the “ Now, Samkin, now ! ” cried Simon, and,
open I will teach you whether my master is a jumping out from the hiding-place, he made
true soldier or not.” for the door. It had not yet been fastened.
“ Tut, man ! You are as foolish yourself,” The two comrades sprang inside. Then
said Simon. “ Here we are with our work in Simon drew the bolts so that none might
hand, and yet you must needs fall out with interrupt them.
me on our way to it. I say nothing against A long table littered with flagons and
your master save that he hath the way of his beakers lay before them. It was lit up by a
fellows who follow dreams and fancies. But line of torches which flickered and smoked
Knolles looks neither to right nor left and in their iron sconces. At the farther end a
walks forward to his mark. Now let us on, solitary man was seated. His head rested
for the time passes.” upon his two hands as if he were befuddled
“ Simon, your words are neither good nor with wine, but at the harsh sound of the
fair. When we are back on shipboard we snapping bolts he raised his face and looked
will speak further of this matter. Now lead angrily round him. It was a strange, power-
 132 TH E ST R A N D M AG A ZIN E.

“ * L E D I A B L E NOIR ! ' H E C R IE D . * SIM O N T H E E N G L I S H M A N ! ’ ”

ful head, tawny and shaggy like a lion’s, with a torch from its socket and held it to his own
tangled heard and a large, harsh face, bloated face. The King staggered back with a cry,
and blotched with vice. He laughed as the as he gazed at that grim visage.
new-comers entered, thinking that two of his “ Le diable noir ! ” he cried. “ Simon the
boon companions had returned to finish a Englishman ! What make you here ? ”
flagon. Then he stared hard, and he passed Simon put his hand upon his shoulder.
his hand over his eyes like one who thinks “ Sit here! ” said he, and he forced the
he may be dreaming. King into his scat. “ Do you sit on the
“ Mon I)ie u !” he cried, “ who are you, farther side of him, Aylward. We make a
and whence come you at this hour of the merry group, do we not ? Often have I
night ? Is this the way to break into our served at this table, but never did I hope to
Royal presence?” drink at it. Fill your cup, Samkin, and pass
Simon approached up one side of the table the flagon.”
and Ay 1ward up the other. When they were The King looked from one to the other
close to the King, the man-at-arms plucked a with terror in his bloodshot eyes.
 SIR N IG E L . i 33

“ What would you do ? ” he asked. “ Are When Simon rose he tossed something
you mad, that you should come here ? One into his bag, and he sheathed his bloody
shout and you are at my mercy.” sword.
“ Nay, my friend, I have lived too long in 44Come, Samkin, our work is well done,”
your house not to know the ways oF it. No said he.
man-servant ever slept beneath your roof, for “ By my hilt, if I had known what it was
you feared lest your throat would be cut in I would have been less ready to come with
the night-time. You may shout and shout you,” said the archer. 44Could you not have
if it so please you. It chanced that I was clapped a sword in his fist and let him take
passing on my way from England in those his chance in the hall ? ”
ships which lie off La Brechou, and I thought 44 Nay, Samkin, if you had such memories
I would come in and have speech with as I, you would have wished that he should
you.” die like a sheep and not like a man. What
“ Indeed, Simon, I am right glad to see chance did he give me when he had the
you,” said the King, cringing away from the power ? And why should I treat him better ?
fierce eyes of the soldier. “ We were good But, Holy Virgin, what have we here ? ”
friends in the past, were we not, and I can­ At the farther end of the table a woman
not call to mind that I have ever done you was standing. An open door behind her
injury. When you made your way to England showed that she had come from the inner
by swimming to the Levantine there was none room of the house. By her tall figure the
more glad in heart than I.” comrades knew that she was the same that
“ I f I cared to doff my doublet I could they had already seen. Her face had once
show you the marks of what your friendship been fair, but now was white and haggard,
has done for me in the past,” said Simon. with wild, dark eyes, full of a hopeless terror
“ It is printed on my back as clearly as on and despair. Slowly she paced up the room,
my memory. Why, you foul dog, there are her gaze fixed, not upon the comrades, but
the very rings upon the wall to which my upon the dreadful thing beneath the table.
hands were fastened, and there the stains Then, as she stooped and was sure, she burst
upon the boards on which my blood has out into loud laughter and clapped her
dripped! Is it not so, you King of hands.
Butchers ? ” “ Who shall say there is no God ? ” she
The pirate chief turned whiter still. cried. 44 Who shall say that prayer is un­
“ It may be that life here was somewhat availing? Great sir, brave sir, let me kiss
rough, Simon, but if I have wronged you in that conquering hand ! ”
any way I will surely make amends. What 44 Nay, nay, dame, stand back ! Well, if
do you ask ? ” you must needs have one of them, take this,
“ I ask only one thing, and I have come which is the clean one.”
hither that I may get it. It is that you pay 44 It is the other I crave—that which is
me forfeit for that you have lost your wager.” red with his blood. Oh, joyful night when
“ My wager, Simon ? I call to mind no my lips have been wet with i t ! Now can I
wager.” die in peace.”
“ But I will call it to your mind, and then “ We must go, Aylward,” said Simon.
I will take my payment. Often have you 44 In another hour the dawn will have
sworn that you would break my courage. broken. In daytime a rat could not cross
4By my head,’ you have cried to me, 4you this island and pass unseen. Come, man—
will crawl at my feet! ’ And again— 4 1 will and at once.”
wager my head that I will tame you ! ’ Yes, But Aylward was at the woman’s side.
yes, a score of times you have said so. In 44Come with us, fair dame,” said he.
my heart, as I listened, I have taken up your 44Surely we can at least take you from this
gage. And now, dog, you have lost, and I island, and no such change can be for the
am here to claim the forfeit.” worse.”
His long, heavy sword flew from its sheath. 44Nay,” said she, “ the saints in heaven
The King, with a howl of despair, flung his cannot help me now until they take me to
arms round him and they rolled together my rest. There is no place for me in the
under the table. Aylward sat with a ghastly world beyond, and all my friends were slain
face, and his toes curled with horror at the on the day that I was taken. I>eave me,
sight, for he was still new to scenes of brave men, and let me care for myself.
strife, and his blood was too cold for such Already it lightens in the east, and black will
a deed. be your fate if you are taken. Go, and may
 i.U TH E STRAND M A G A ZIN E .

C H A P T E R X IX .
HOW A SQUIRE OK ENG­
LAND MET A SQUIRE OK
KRANCE.
S ir R o b e r t K n o l l e s,
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 Ranee until they
were close to the old
walled city of Dinan,
which was held by that
Montfort faction whose
cause the English had
e sp o u se d . Here the
horses had been disem­
barked, the stores were
unloaded, and the whole
force encamped out­
side the city, whilst the
leaders waited for news
as to the present state
of affairs, and where
there was most hope
o f honour and
profit.
The whole of Franee
was feeling the effects
“ sh e bu rst out in t o loud la u g h ter a n d c la pped h er ."
h an d s of that war with Eng-
1 a n d whi ch h a d
the blessing of one who was once a holy nun already lasted some ten years, but no
go with you and guard you from danger! ” province was in so dreadful a condition as
thisunhappy land of Brittany. In Nor­
Sir Robert Knolles was pacing the deck in mandy orPicardy the inroads of the
the early morning when he heard the sound English were periodical, with intervals of
of oars, and there were his two night-birds rest between, but Brittany was torn asunder
climbing up the side. by constant civil war apart from the grapple
“ So, fellow,” said he, “ have you had of the two great combatants, so that there was
speech with the King of Sark ? ” no surcease of her sufferings. The struggle
“ Fair sir, I have seen him.” had begun in 1 341 through the rival claims of
“ And he has paid his forfeit ? ” Montfort and of Blois to the vacant Dukedom.
“ He has paid it, sir ! ” England had taken the part of Montfort,
Knolles looked with curiosity at the bag France that of Blois. Neither faction was
which Simon bore. strong enough to destroy the other, and so,
“ What carry you there ? ” he asked. after ten years of continual fighting, history
“ The stake that he has lost.” recorded a long, ineffectual list of surprises and
“ What was it, then ? A goblet ? A silver ambushes, of raids and skirmishes, of towns
plate ? ” taken and retaken, of alternate victory and
For answer Simon opened his bag and defeat, in which neither party could claim a
shook it on the deck. Sir Robert turned supremacy. It mattered nothing that Mont­
away with a whistle. fort and Blois had both disappeared from the
“ ’Fore God ! ” said he, “ it is in my mind scene, the one dead and the other taken by
that I carry some hard men with me to the English. Their wives caught up the
Brittany.” swords which had dropped from the hands of
 SIR N IG E L . 135
their lords, and the long struggle went on vice and set him free to look her in the
even more savagely than before. In the face once more. With the great yellow
south and east the Blois faction held the horse curveting beneath him, his Guildford
country, and Nantes, the capital, was armour gleaming in the sun, his sword clash­
garrisoned and occupied b y , a strong ing against his stirrup-iron, and his father’s
French army. In the north and west the tough ash-spear in his hand, he rode with a
Montfort party prevailed, for the island joyous heart and a smiling face, looking
kingdom was at their back and always eagerly to right and to left for any chance
fresh sails broke the northern skyline bearing which his good fate might send.
adventurers from over the Channel. Between The road from Dinan to Caulnes, along
these two there lay a broad zone comprising which the small army was moving, rose and
all the centre of the country, which was a dipped over undulating ground, with a bare,
land of blood and violence, where no law marshy plain upon the left where the River
prevailed save that of the sword. From end Ranee ran down to the sea, while upon the
to end it was dotted with castles, some held right lay a wooded country with a few
for one side, some for the other, and many wretched villages, so poor and sordid that
mere robber strongholds, the scenes of gross they had nothing with which to tempt the
and monstrous deeds, whose brute owners, spoiler. The peasants had left them at
knowing that they could never be called to the first twinkle of a steel cap, and lurked at
account, made war upon all mankind, and the edges of the woods, ready in an instant
wrung with rack and with flame the last to dive into those secret recesses known only
shilling from all who fell into their savage to themselves. These creatures suffered
hands. The fields had long been untilled. sorely at the hands of both parties, but when
Commerce was dead. From Rennes in the the chance came they revenged their wrongs
east to Hennebon in the west, and from on either in a savage way which brought
Dinan in the north to Nantes in the south, fresh brutalities upon their heads. The
there was no spot where a man’s life or a new-comers soon had a chance of seeing
woman’s honour was safe. Such was the to what lengths they would go, for in the
land, full of darkness and blood— the saddest, roadway near to Caulnes they came upon an
blackest spot in Christendom— into which English man-at-arms who had been waylaid
Knolles and his men were now advancing. and slain by them. How they had overcome
But there was no sadness in the young him could not be told, but how they had
heart of Nigel as he rode by the side of slain him within his armour was horribly
Knolles at the head of a clump of spears, nor apparent, for they had carried such a rock as
did it seem to him that Fate had led him eight men could lift, and had dropped it
into an unduly arduous path. On the con­ upon him as he lay, so that he was spread
trary, he blessed the good fortune which had out in his shattered case like a crab beneath
sent him into so delightful a country, and it a stone. Many a fist was shaken at the
seemed to him as he listened to dreadful distant woods and many a curse hurled at
stories of robber barons, and looked round those who haunted them, as the column of
at the black scars of war which lay branded scowling soldiers passed the murdered man,
upon the fair faces of the hills, that no hero whose badge of the Molene cross showed
of romancist or trouveur had ever journeyed him to have been a follower of that house of
through such a land of promise, with so fair Bentley whose head, Sir Walter, was at that
a chance of knightly venture and honourable time leader of the English forces in the
advancement. The Red Ferret was one deed country.
towards his vow. Surely a second, and per­ Sir Robert Knolles had served in Brittany
haps a better, was to be found somewhere before, and he marshalled his men on the
upon this glorious countryside. He had march with the skill and caution of the
borne himself as the others in the sea- veteran soldier, the man who leaves as little
fight, and could not count it to his credit as possible to chance, having too steadfast a
where he had done no more than mere duty. mind to heed the fool who may think him
- Something beyond this was needed for such over-cautious. He had recruited a number
a deed as could be laid at the feet of the of bowmen and men-at-arms at Dinan, so
Lady Mary. But surely it was to be found that his following was now close upon five
here in fermenting, war-distracted Brittany. hundred men. In front, under his own
Then with two done it would be strange leadership, were fifty mounted lances, fully
if he could not find occasion for that armed and ready for any sudden attack.
third one which would complete his ser­ Behind them on foot came the archers, and
 136 TH E ST R A N D M A G A/EVE.

be gained upon
this road, for the
folk seem to have
no heart for war.
Had we ventured
as far over the
marches of Scot­
land as we now are
in Br i t t a ny we
should not have
l a c k e d s ome
h o n o u rab le ven­
ture or chance of
winning worship.”
“ You say truth,
T h o m a s,” cri ed
Astley, a red-faced
and choleric young
man. “ It is well
certain that the
F r e n c h 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
s m i l e that we
should creep for
three days along
t hi s r o a d as
t hough a t ho u ­
“ he w as spr ea d out in h is sh a t t e r e d c a se l ik e a crab ."
ben e a t h a
sand dangers lay
stone

before us, when

a second body of mounted men closed up we have but poor broken peasants to deal
the rear. Out upon either flank moved small with.”
bodies of cavalry, and a dozen scouts, spread But Robert Knolles shook his head.
fan-wise, probed every gorge and dingle in “ We know not what are in these woods
front of the column. So for three days he or behind these hills,” said he, “ and when
moved slowly down the Southern Road. I know nothing it is my wont to prepare
Sir Thomas Percy and Sir James Astley for the worst which may befall. It is but
had ridden to the head of the column, and prudence so to do.”
Knolles conferred with them as they marched “ Your enemies might find some harsher
concerning the plan of their campaign. name for it,” said Astley, with a sneer.
Percy and Astley were young and hot-headed, “ Nay, you need not think to scare me by
with wild visions of dashing deeds and glaring at me, Sir Robert, nor will your ill-
knight-errantry, but Knolles, with cold, clear pleasure change my thoughts. I have faced
brain and purpose of iron, held ever his fiercer eyes than thine, and I have not
object in view. feared.”
“ By the holy Dunstan and all the saints “ Your speech, Sir James, is neither
of Lindisfarne ! ” cried the fiery Borderer, courteous nor good,” said Knolles, “ and if
“ it goes to my heart to ride forward when I were a free man I would cram your words
there are such honourable chances on either down your throat with the point of my
side of us. Have I not heard that the dagger. But I am here to lead these men
French are at Evran beyond the river, and in profit and honour, not to quarrel with
is it not sooth that yonder castle, the towers every fool who has not the wit to understand
of which I see above the woods, is in the how soldiers should be led. Can you not
hands of a traitor who is false to his liege see that if I make attempts here and there,
lord of Montfort ? There is little profit to as you would have me do, I shall have
 SIR N IG E L . *37

weakened my strength before I come to that peasants whose wrists had been tied to their
part where it can best be spent ? ” leathers came leaping and straining beside
“ And where is that ? ” asked Percy. the horses in their effort not to be dragged
“ ’Fore God, Astley, it is in my mind that off their feet. One was a tall, gaunt, yellow­
we ride with one who knows more of war haired man, the other short and swarthy, but
than you or I, and that we would be wise to both so crusted with dirt, so matted and
be guided by his rede. Tell us, then, what tangled and ragged, that they were more like
is in your mind.” beasts of the wood than human beings.
. “ Thirty miles from here,” said Knolles, “ What is this ? ” asked Knolles. “ Have
“ there is, as I am told, a fortalice named I not ordered you to leave the countryfolk at
Ploermel, and within it is one Bambro, an peace ? ”
Englishman, with a good garrison. No great The leader of the archers, old Wat of
distance from him is the Castle of Josselin, Carlisle, held up a sword, a girdle, and a
where dwells John of Beaumanoir, with a dagger.
great following of Bretons. It is my inten­ “ If it please you, fair sir,” said he, “ I saw
tion that we should join Bambro and so be the glint of these, and I thought them no fit
in such strength that we may throw ourselves tools for hands which were made for the
upon Josselin, and, by taking it, become the spade and the plough. But when we had
masters of all mid-Brittany, and able to make ridden them down and taken them there was
head against the Frenchmen in the south.” the Bentley cross upon each, and we knew
“ Indeed, I think that you can do no that they had belonged to yonder dead
better,” said Percy, heartily, “ and I swear to Englishman upon the road. Surely, then, these
you on jeopardy of my soul that I will stand are two of the villains who have slain him,
by you in the matter. I doubt not that and it is right that we do justice upon them.”
whe n 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 Lindis-
farne, 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 horse­
men are riding in.
They are our own
hobelers, are they
not ? And who
are these who are
l as he d to their
stirrups ? ”
A small troop
of mounted bow­
men had ridden
out of an oak
grove upon the
left of the road.
They trotted up
to where the three
knights had halted.
T w o wretched “ T H E Y D R O P P E D W I T H I N A R T I C U L A T E H O WL S UPO N T K E J R K N E E S , "
Yol. xjfxii.—18.
 TH E STR A N D M A G A ZIN E .

Sure enough, upon sword, girdle, and and casting many a wondering, frightened
dagger shone the silver Molene cross which glance over their shoulders at the preparations
had gleamed on the dead man’s armour. which were being made behind them. Old
Knolles looked at them and then at the Bartholomew and the big Yorkshireman had
prisoners with a face of stone. At the sight stepped out of the ranks, and stood side by
of those fell eyes they had dropped with side, each with his strung bow in his left hand
inarticulate howls upon their knees, scream­ and a single arrow in his right. With care
ing out their protests in a tongue which none they had drawn on and greased their shooting
could understand. glove and fastened their bracer. They
“ We must have the roads safe for wander­ plucked and cast up a few blades of grass to
ing Englishmen,” said Knolles. “ These measure the wind, examined every small point
men must surely die. Hang them to yonder of their tackle, turned their sides to the mark,
tree.” and widened their feet in a firmer stance.
He pointed to a live oak by the roadside, From all sides came chaff and counsel from
and rode onwards upon his way in converse their comrades.
with his fellow-knights. But the old bowman “ A three-quarter wind, bowyer,” cried one ;
had ridden after him. “ aim a body’s breadth to the right ! ”
“ If it please you, Sir Robert, the bowmen “ But not thy body’s breadth, bowyer,”
would fain put these men to death in their laughed another. “ Else may you be over
own fashion,” said he. wide.”
“ So that they die I care not how,” Knolles “ Nay, this wind will scarce turn a well-
answered carelessly, and looked back no drawn shaft,” said a third. “ Shoot dead
more. upon him and you will be clap in the clout.”
Human life was cheap in those stern days, “ Steady, Ned, for the good name of the
when the footmen of a stricken army or the Dales,” cried a Yorkshireman. “ Loose easy
crew of a captured ship were slain without and pluck not, or I am five crowns the poorer
any question or thought of mercy by the man.”
victors. War was a rude game with death “ A week’s pay on Bartholomew,” shouted
for the stake, and the forfeit was always another. “ Now, old fat pate, fail me not ! ”
claimed on the one side and paid on the “ Enough ! Enough ! Stint your talk ! ”
other without doubt or hesitation. Only the cried the old bowman, Wat of Carlisle.
knight might be spared, since his ransom “ Were your shafts as quick as yowr tongues
made him worth more alive than dead. To there w’ould be no facing you ! Do you
men trained in such a school, with death for shoot upon the little one, Bartholomew, and
ever hanging over their own heads, it may you, Ned, upon the other. Give them law
well be believed that the slaying of two until I cry the word, then loose in your own
peasant murderers was a small matter. And fashion and at your own time. Are you
yet there was special reason why upon this ready ? Hola, there, Hayward, Boddington,
occasion the bowmen wished to keep the let them run ! ”
deed in their own hands. Ever since The leashes were torn away, and the two
their dispute aboard the Basilisk there had men, stooping their heads, ran madly for the
been ill-feeling betwixt Bartholomew, the shelter of the wood amid such a howl from
old bald-headed bowyer, and Long Ned of the archers as beaters may give when the
Widdington, the Dalesman, which had ended hare starts from its form. The two bowmen,
in a conflict at Dinan, in which not only they each with his arrow drawn to the pile, stood
but a dozen of their friends had been laid like russet statues, menacing, motionless,
upon the cobble-stones. The dispute raged their eager eyes fixed upon the fugitives,
round their respective knowledge and skill their bow-staves rising slowly as the distance
with the bow, and now some quick wit between them lengthened. The Bretons
amongst the soldiers had suggested a grim were half-way to the wood and still old Wat
fashion in which it should be put to the was silent. It may have been mercy or it
proof, once for all, which could draw the may have been mischief, but at least the
surer shaft. chase should have a fair chance of life. At
A thick wood lay two hundred paces from six-score paces he turned his grizzled head
the road upon which the archers stood. A at last.
stretch of smooth, grassy sward lay between. “ Loose ! ” he cried.
The two peasants were led out fifty yards At the word the Yorkshireman’s bow-string
from the road with their faces towards the twanged. It was not for nothing that he had
wood. There they stood, held on a leash, earned the name of being one of the deadliest
 SIR N IG E L. i 39
archers of the North, and had twice borne mouth of his burrow. In the joy of his
away the silver arrow of Selby. Swift and heart he must needs dance in derision and
true flew the fatal shaft and buried itself to snap his fingers at the foolish men who had
the feather in the curved back of the long, let him slip. He threw back his head, howd-
yellow-haired peasant. Without a sound he ing at them like a dog, and at the instant an
fell upon his face and lay stone-dead upon arrow' struck him full in the throat and laid
the grass, the one short white plume betwixt him dead among the bracken. There was a
his dark shoulders to mark where Death had hush of surprised silence, and then a loud
smote him. The Yorkshireman threw his cheer burst from the archers.
bow-stave into the air and danced in triumph, “ By the rood of Beverley,” cried old Wat,
whilst his comrades roared their fierce delight “ I have not seen a finer roving shaft this
in a shout of applause which changed many a year. In my own best day - 1 could
suddenly into a tempest of hooting and not have bettered it. Which of you loosed
of laughter. The smaller peasant, more it?”
cunning than his comrade, had run more “ It was Avlward of Tilford— Samkin
slowly but with many a backward glance. Aylward,” cried a score of voices, and the
He had marked his companion’s fate and bowman, flushed at his own fame, was pushed
had waited with keen eyes until he saw to the front.
the bowyer loose his string. At the moment “ Indeed I would that it had been at a
he had thrown himself flat upon the grass, nobler mark,” said he. “ He might have
and had heard the arrow' scream above him gone free for me, but I could not keep my
and seen it quiver in the turf beyond. fingers from the string when he turned to
Instantly he had sprung to his feet again, and jeer at us.”
amid wild whoops and halloos from the bow- “ I see well that you are indeed a master

“ H E H A D S P R U N G T O H IS F F . E T A G A I N , A N D A M I D W I L D WHOO PS A N D H A L L O O S F RO M T H E
B O W M E N H A D M A D E F O R T H E S H E L T E R O F T H E W OO D. ”

men had made for the shelter of the wood. bowman,” said old Wat, “ and it is comfort
Now he had. reached it, and ten-score good to my soul to think that if I fall I leave such
paces separated him from the nearest of his a man behind me to hold high the credit of
persecutors. Surely they could not reach our craft. Now gather your shafts and on,
him here. With the tangled brushwood for Sir Robert awaits 11s on the brow of the
behind him he was as safe as a rabbit at the hill.”

( T o be con tin u ed■)

“ SW ING ING T H E I R MIGHTY' W E APON , T H E S T O R M IN G P A R T Y T H U D D E D
A N D C R A S H E D UPON T H E G A T E .”

(See pa g e 253.)
 T he Strand M agazine.
Vol. xxxii. S E P T E M B E R , 1906. No. 189.

SIR NIGEL.
B y A . C O N A N D O Y L E .
CH APTER X IX .— (Continued.) betwixt the ash tree and the red rock, what
HOW A SQUIRE OF ENGLAND MET A SQUIRE do you see on the side of the far hill ? ”
OF FRANCE. “ There is a white dot upon it. Surely it
L L day Knolles and his men is a horse.”
marched through the same “ I have marked it all morning, Nigel.
wild and deserted country, This horseman has kept ever upon our flank,
inhabited only by these fur­ spying upon us or waiting to make some
tive creatures, hares to the attempt upon us. Now I should be right
strong and wolves to the weak, glad to have a prisoner, for it is my wish to
who hovered in the shadows of the woods. know something of this countryside, and
Ever and anon upon the tops of the hills these peasants can speak neither French nor
they caught a glimpse of horsemen, who English. I would have you linger here in
watched them from a distance and vanished hiding when we go forward. This man will
when approached. Sometimes bells rang an still follow us. When he does so yonder
alarm from villages amongst the hills, and wood will lie betwixt you and him. Do you
twice they passed castles which drew up their ride round it and come upon him from
drawbridges at their approach, and lined behind. There is broad plain upon his left,
their walls with hooting soldiers as they and we will cut him off upon the right. If
passed. The Englishmen gathered a few your horse be indeed the swifter, then you
oxen and sheep from the pastures of each, cannot fail to take him.”
but Knolles had no mind to break his Nigel had already sprung down and was
strength upon stone walls, and so he went tightening Pommers’s girth.
upon his way. Once, at St. Meen, they “ Nay, there is no need of haste, for you
passed a great nunnery, girt with a high, grey, cannot start until we are two miles upon our
lichened wall, an oasis of peace in this desert way. And above all I pray you, Nigel, none
of war, the black-robed nuns basking in the of your knight-errant ways. It is this man
sun or working in the gardens, with the that I want— him and the news that he can
strong, gentle hand of Holy Church shielding bring me. Think little of your own advance­
them ever from evil. The archers doffed ment and much of the needs of the army.
caps to them as they passed, for the boldest When you get him, ride westwards upon the
and roughest dared not cross that line sun and you cannot fail to find the road.”
guarded by the dire ban and blight, which Nigel waited with Pommers under the
was the one only force in the whole steel- shadow of the nunnery wall, horse and man
ridden earth which could stand betwixt the chafing with impatience, whilst above them
weakling and the spoiler. six round-eyed, innocent nun-faces looked
The little army halted at St. Meen and down on this strange and disturbing vision
cooked its midday meal. It had gathered from the outer world. At last the long
into its ranks again, and was about to start, column wound itself out of sight round a
when Knolles drew Nigel to one side. curve of the road, and the white dot was
“ Nigel,” said he, “ it seems to me that I gone from the bare green flank of the hill.
have seldom set eyes upon a horse which Nigel bowed his steel head to the nuns, gave
hath more power and promise of speed than his bridle a shake, and bounded off upon his
this great beast of thine.” welcome mission. The round-eyed sisters
“ It is indeed a noble steed, fair sir,” said saw yellow horse and twinkling man sweep
Nigel. Betwixt him and his young leader round the skirt of the wood, caught a last
there had sprung up great affection and respect glimmer of him through the tree trunks, and
since the day that they set foot in the Basilisk. paced slowly back to their pruning and their
“ It will be the better if you stretch his planting, their minds filled with the beauty
limbs, for he grows over heavy,” said the and the terror of that outer world beyond
knight. “ Now, mark me, N igel! Yonder, the high, grey, lichen-mottled wall.
Vol. xxxii.—31, Copyright, 1906, by A. Conan Doyle, in the United States of America.
 244 TH E STRAND M A G A ZIN E .

— gave his own bridle a shake, and darted

off, swift as a hawk, towards 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 armour.
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
Dr ui di c st ones,
some pr ost r at e,
some erect, some
bear i ng o t h e r s
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
SIX RO UND-KYED, IN N O CEN T N U N -FA C ES
L O O K E D DOWN ON T H I S S T R A N G E A N D side of it. Across
D ISTU RB IN G VISION .” this path many of
the huge st ones
Everything fell out even as Knolles had were lying, but the white horse cleared
planned. As Nigel rounded the oak forest, them in its stride and Pommers followed
there upon the farther side of it. with only close upon his heels. Then came a
good greensward between, was the rider mile of soft ground, where the lighter
upon the white horse. Already he was so weight again drew to the front, but it
near that Nigel could see him clearly, a ended in a dry upland, and once again Nigel
young cavalier, proud in his bearing, clad in gained. A sunk road crossed it, but the white
purple silk tunic, with a red curling feather cleared it with a mighty spring, and again the
in his low black cap. He wore no armour, yellow followed. Two small hills lay before
but his sword gleamed at his side. He rode them, with a narrow gorge of deep bushes
easily and carelessly, as one who cares for no between. Nigel saw the white horse bounding
man, and his eyes were for ever fixed upon chest deep amid the underwood. Next
the English soldiers on the road. So intent instant its hind legs were high in the air and
was he upon them that he gave no thought the rider had been shot from its back. A
to his own safety, and it was only when the howl of triumph rose from amidst the bushes
low thunder of the great horse’s hoofs broke and a dozen wild figures armed with club and
upon his ears that he turned in his saddle, with spear rushed upon the prostrate man.
looked very coolly and steadily at Nigel, then “ A moi, Anglais, a m o i! ” cried a voice,
 S/A N IG E L. 245

and Nigel saw the young rider stagger to not have believed that any horse could have
his feet, strike round him with his sword, kept at the heels of Charlemagne so long.
and then fall once more before the rush But I will wager you a hundred crowns,
of his assailants. Englishman, that I lead you over a five-mile
There was a comradeship among men of course.”
gentle blood and bearing which banded them “ Nay,” said N ig el; “ we will wait till you
together against all ruffianly or unchivalrous can back a horse ere we talk of racing it. I
attack. These rude fellows were no soldiers. am Nigel of Tilford, of the family of Loring,
Their dress and arms, their uncouth cries a squire by rank and the son of a knight.
and wild assault, marked them as b an d itti- How are you called, young sir ? ”
such men as had slain the Englishman “ I also am a squire by rank and the son
upon the road. Waiting in narrow gorges of a knight. I am Raoul de la Roche Pierre
with a hidden rope across the path, they de Bras, whose father writes himself Lord of
watched for the lonely horseman as a Grosbois, a free vavasour of the noble Count
fowler waits by his bird-trap, trusting that of Toulouse, with the right of fossa and of
they could overthrow the steed and then slay furca, the high justice, the middle and the
the rider ere he had recovered from his fall. low.” He sat up and rubbed his eyes.
Such would have been the fate of the, “ Englishman, you have saved my life as I
stranger, as of so many cavaliers before him, would have saved yours had I seen such
had Nigel not chanced to be so close upon yelping dogs set upon a man of blood and
his heels. In an instant Pommers had burst of coat-armour. But now I am yours, and
through the group who struck at the pros­ what is your sweet will ? ”
trate man, and in another two of the robbers “ When you are fit to ride you will come
had fallen before Nigel’s sword. A spear back with me to my people.”
rang on his breast-plate, but one blow shore “ Alas ! I feared that you would say so.
off its head, and a second that of him who Had I taken you, Nigel— that is your name,
held it. In vain they thrust at the steel-girt is it not ?— had I taken you, I would not
man. His sword played round them like have acted thus.”
lightning, and the fierce horse ramped and “ How then would you have ordered
swooped above them with pawing, iron-shod things?” asked Nigel, much taken with the
hoofs and eyes of fire. With cries and frank and debonair manner of his captive.
shrieks they flew off to right and left amidst “ I would not have taken advantage of
the bushes, springing over boulders and such a mischance as has befallen me which
darting under branches where no horseman has put me in your power. I would give you
could follow them. The foul crew had gone a sword and beat you in fair fight, so that I
as swiftly and suddenly as it had come, and might send you to give greeting to my dear
save for four ragged figures littered amongst lady and show her the deeds which I do for
the trampled bushes no sign remained of her fair sake.”
their passing. “ Indeed, your words are both good and
Nigel tethered Pommers to a thorn bush fair,” said Nigel. “ By 3 t. Paul, I cannot
and then turned his attention to the injured call to mind that I have ever met a man who
man. The white horse had regained his feet bore himself better. But since I am in my
and stood whinnying gently as he looked armour and you without, I see not how we
down on his prostrate master. A heavy can debate the matter.”
blow, half broken by his sword, had beaten “ Surely, gentle Nigel, you could doff your
him down and left a great raw bruise armour.”
upon his forehead. But a stream gurgled “ Then have I only my underclothes.”
through the gorge, and a capful of water “ Nay, there shall be no unfairness there,
dashed over his face brought the senses back for I also will very gladly strip to my under­
to the injured man. He was a mere stripling, clothes.”
with the delicate features of a woman, and a Nigel looked wistfully at the Frenchman,
pair of great violet-blue eyes which looked but he shook his head.
up presently with a puzzled stare into Nigel’s “ Alas ! it may not be,” said he. “ The
face. last words that Sir Robert said to me were
“ Who are you ? ” he asked. “ Ah, yes, I that I was to bring you to his side, for he
call you to mind. You are the young would have speech with you. Would that I
Englishman who chased me on the great could do what you ask, for I also have a fair
yellow horse. By Our I^ady of Rocamadour, lady to whom I would fain send you. What
whose vernicle is round my neck, I could use are you to me, Raoul, since I have gained
 246 TH E STRAND M AGAZIN E.

no honour in the taking of you ? How is it “ We shall surely try some small deed upon
with you no w? ” each other, so that either I shall see the
The young Frenchman had risen to his Lady Beatrice or you tne Lady Mary. Nay,
feet. thank me not, for, like yourself, I have come
“ Do not take my sword,” he said. “ I am to this country in search of honour, and I
yours, rescue or no rescue. I think now that know not where I may better find it than at
I could mount my horse, though indeed my the end of your sword-point. My good lord
head still rings like a cracked bell.” and master, Sir John Chandos, has told me
Nigel had lost all traces of his comrades, many times that never yet did he meet
but he remembered Sir Robert’s words that French knight or squire that he did not
he should ride upon the sun, with the find great pleasure and profit from their
certainty that sooner or later he would strike company, and now I very clearly see that he
upon the road. As they jogged slowly along has spoken the truth.”
over undulating hills the Frenchman shook For an hour these two friends rode
off his hurt, and the two chatted merrily together, the Frenchman pouring forth the
together. praises of his lady, whose glove he produced
“ I had but just come from home,” said from one pocket, her garter from his vest,
he, “ and I had hoped to win honour in this and her shoe from his saddle-bag. She was
country, for I have ever heard that the blonde, and when he heard that Mary was
English are very hardy men and excellent dark he would fain stop then and there to
people to fight with. My mules and my fight the question of colour. He talked, too,
baggage are at Evran, but I rode forth to see of his great chateau at Lauta, by the head­
what 1 could see, and I chanced upon your waters of the pleasant Garonne, of the
army moving down the road, so I coasted it hundred horses in the stables, the seventy
in the hopes of some profit or adventure. hounds in the kennels, the fifty hawks in the
Then you came after me, and I would have mews. His English friend should come
given all the gold goblets upon my father’s there when the wars were over, and what
table if I but had my harness, so that I could golden days would be theirs ! Nigel, too,
have turned upon you. 1 have promised the with his English coldness thawing before this
Countess Beatrice that I will send her an young sunbeam of the South, found himself
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,” an­
swered 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 farther with you.
It is in my mind that we
might turn this thing to
profit and to honour, for
when Sir Robert has
spoken with you I am
free to do with you as I
will.”
“ And what will you
do, N ig e l?” FOR AN HO UR T H E S E T W O F R I E N D S R O D E T O G E T H E R . '
 S/E N IG E L . 247

talking of the heather slopes of Surrey, of in yonder cellars. How can justice come to
the Forest of Woolmer, even of the sacred him, w’hen no man knows who owns the
chambers of Cosford. But as they rode land ? But when we have packed you all
onwards towards the sinking sun, their back to your island, by the Blessed Mother
thoughts far away in their distant homes, of God we have a heavy debt to pay to the
their horses striding together, there came man who dwells in yonder pile ! ”
that which brought their minds back in an But even as they watched the trumpet-call
instant to the perilous hillsides of Brittany. burst forth once more. It came, not from
It was the long blast of a trumpet blown the castle, but from the farther end of the
from somewhere on the farther side of a valley. It was answered by a second call
ridge towards which they were riding. A from the walls. Then in a long, straggling
second long-drawn note from a distance line there came a wild troop of marauders,
answered it. streaming homewards from some foray. In
“ It is your camp,” said the Frenchman. the van, at the head of a body of spearmen,
“ Nay,” said N igel; “ we have pipes with rode a tall and burly man, clad in brazen
us and a nakir or two, but I have heard no armour, so that he shone like a golden
trumpet-call from our ranks. It behoves us image in the slanting rays of the sun. His
to take heed, for we know not what may be helmet had been loosened from his gorget,
before us. Ride this way, I pray you, that and was held before him on his horse’s
we may look over and yet be ourselves neck. A great tangled beard flowed over
unseen.” his breastplate and his hair hung down
Some scattered boulders crowned the as far behind. A squire at his elbow
height, and from behind them the two young bore high the banner of the bleeding
squires could see the long, rocky valley head. Behind the spearmen were a line of
beyond. Upon a knoll was a small square heavily-laden mules, and on either side of
building with a battlement round it. Some them a drove of poor country-folk, who were
distance from it towered a great dark castle, being herded into the castle. Lastly came a
as massive as the rocks on which it stood, second strong troop of mounted spearmen,
with one strong keep at the corner and four who conducted a score or more of prisoners
long lines of machicolated walls. Above, a who marched together in a solid body. Nigel
great banner flew proudly in the wind, with stared at them, and then, springing on his
some device which glowed red in the setting horse, he urged it along the shelter of the
sun. Nigel shaded his eyes and stared with ridge so as to reach unseen a spot which was
wrinkled brow’. close to the castle gate. He had scarce
“ It is not the arms of England nor yet taken up his new’ position when the cavalcade
the lilies of France, nor is it the ermine of reached the drawbridge and, amid yells of
Brittany,” said he. “ He who holds this welcome from those upon the wall, filed in a
castle fights for his own hand, since his own thin line across it Nigel stared hard once
device flies above it. Surely it is a head more at the prisoners in the rear, and so
gules on an argent field.” absorbed was he by the sight that he had
“ The bloody head on a silver tray ! ” cried passed the rocks and was standing sheer upon
the Frenchman. “ Was I not warned against the summit.
him ? This is not a man, friend Nigel. It “ By St. Paul ! ” he cried. “ It must
is a monster who wars upon English, French, indeed be so. I see their russet jackets.
and all Christendom. Have you not beard They are English archers.”
of the Butcher of La Brohiniere ? ” As he spoke the hindmost one, a strongly-
“ Nay, I have not heard of him.” built, broad-shouldered man, looked round
“ His name is accursed in France. Have and saw the gleaming figure above him upon
I not been told also that he put to death the hill, with open helmet, and the five roses
this very year Gilles de St. Pol, a friend of glowing upon his breast. With a sweep of
the English King ? ” his hands he had thrust his guardians aside,
“ Y e s ; in very truth it comes back to my and for a moment was clear of the throng.
mind now that I heard something of this “ Squire Loring ! Squire Loring ! ” he
matter in Calais before we started.” cried. “ It is I, Aylward the archer! It
“ Then there he dwells, and God guard is I, Samkin Aylward ! ” The next minute
you if ever you pass under yonder portal, for a dozen hands had seized him, his cries were
no prisoner has ever come forth alive. Since muffled with a gag, and he was hurled, the
these wars began he hath been a King to last of the band, through the black and
himself, and the plunder of eleven years lies threatening archway of the gate. Then with
 2 4 8 TH E ST R A N D M A G A ZIN E .

a dang the two iron wings came to­ with me from my

gether, the portcullis swung upwards, and own home. He
captives and captors, has stood between
robbers and booty, me and death be­
were all swallowed up fore now. It goes
within the grim and to my very heart
silent fortress. 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
s h r u g g e d hi s
shoulders.
“ As easy to
get a lamb un­
scathed out of a
wolves’ lair as a
prisoner safe from
La Br o hi ni e r e .
Nay, Nigel,
whither do you
go ? Have you
i n d e e d taken
l eave of y o u r
wits ? ”
& The squire had
spurred his horse
down the hill side
and never halted
until he was within
a bow-shot of the
‘‘ ‘ sq u ir e LORINC, ! S Q U I R E I-O RIN g ! ' H E C R I E D . ‘ it is I, A Y L W A R D T H E A R C H E R ! ' gate. The French
prisoner followed
CH APTER XX. hard behind him with a buzz of reproaches
HOW THE ENGLISH ATTEMPTED THE CASTLE and expostulations.
OF LA BROHINIERE. “ You are mad, N ig el!” he cried. “ What
F or some minutes Nigel remained motion­ do you hope to do then ? Would you carry
less upon the crest of the hill, his heart like the castle with your own hands? Halt, man,
lead within him, and his eyes fixed upon the halt, in the name of the Virgin ! ”
huge grey walls which contained his unhappy But Nigel had no plan in his head, and
henchman. He was roused by a sympathetic only obeyed the fevered impulse to do some­
hand upon his shoulder and the voice of his thing to ease his thoughts. He paced his
young prisoner in his ear. horse up and down, waving his hand and
“ Peste ! ” said he. “ They have some of shouting insults and challenges to the garri­
your birds in their cage, have they not ? son. Over the high wall a hundred jeering
What then, my friend ? Keep your heart faces looked down upon him. So rash and
high. Is it not the chance of war, to-day to wild was his action that it seemed to those
them, to-morrow to thee, and death at last within to mean some trap. Therefore the
for us all ? And yet I had rather they were drawbridge was still held high and none
in any hands than those of Oliver the ventured forth to seize him. A few long-
Butcher.” range arrows pattered on the rocks, and then
“ By St. Paul ! we cannot suffer it,” cried with a deep booming sound a huge stone, .
Nigel, distractedly. “ This man has come hurled from a mangonel, sang over the head
 SIR jyiG E L . 249

of the two squires and crashed into splinters with a choking voice. “ Never has a man dared
amongst the boulders behind them. The to speak to me as you have done this day.”
Frenchman seized Nigel’s bridle and forced “ So long as I hold the King’s order I
him farther from the gateway. shall be master, and, by the Lord, I will
“ By the dear Virgin ! ” he cried, “ I care hang you, James, on a near tree if I have
not to have those pebbles about my ears, yet further cause of offence. How now, Nigel?
I cannot go back alone, so it is very clear, I see by yonder white horse that you, at
my crazy comrade, that you must come also. least, have not failed me. I will speak with
Now we are beyond their reach ! But see, you anon. Sir Thomas Percy, bring up your
my friend Nigel, who are those who crown men, and let us gather round this castle, for,
the height ? ” as I hope for my soul’s salvation, I will not
The sun had sunk behind the western leave it until I have my archers or the head
ridge, but the glowing sky was fringed at its of him who holds them.”
lower edge by a score of ruddy twinkling That night the English lay thick round the
points. A body of horsemen showed hard fortress of La Brohiniere so that none might
and black upon the bare hill. Then they come forth from it. But if none could come
dipped down the slope into the valley, whilst forth it was hard to see how any could win
a band of footmen followed behind. their way in, for it was full of men, the walls
“ They are my people,” cried Nigel, joy­ were high and strong, and a deep dry ditch
ously. “ Come, my friend, hasten that we girt it round. But the hatred and fear
may take counsel what we shall do.” which its master had raised over the whole
Sir Robert Knolles rode a bowshot in front countryside could now be plainly seen, for
of his men, and his brow was as black as during the night the brushwood men and the
night. Beside him, with crestfallen face, his villagers came in from all parts with offers of
horse bleeding, his armour dinted and soiled, such help as they could give for the intaking
was the hot-headed knight, Sir James Astley. of the castle. Knolles set them cutting
A fierce discussion raged between them. bushes and tying them into faggots. When
“ I have done my devoir as best I might,” morning came he rode out before the wall
s a i d Astl ey.
“ 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 ?
Whe r e are my
thirty bowmen ? ”
cried Knolles, in
bitterwrath. “ Ten
lie dead upon the
ground and twenty
are worse than
dead in yonder
castle. And all be­
cause you must
needsshowall 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 “ B E S I D E H I M , W I T H C R F S T F A L I . F . N F A C E , H I S HOKSF. R T . F F D I N G , H I S A R M O U R D I N T E D
those words ! ” cried Astley, AN D SOII.KD, W AS T H E H O T -H E A D E D K N IG H T , SIR J A M E S A S T L E Y . ”
VoL xxxii.—32.
 2 5 0 TH E ST R A N D M A G A ZIN E .

and held counsel with his knights and fortalice upon the knoll, on which also flew
squires as to how he should enter it. the flag of the bloody head.
“ By noon,” said he, “ we shall have so “ This smaller castle, Robert, is of no
many faggots that we may make our way great strength, and cannot hold more than
over the ditch. Then we will beat in the fifty men. It is built, as I conceive it, that
gate and so win a footing.” no one should seize the high ground and
The young Frenchman had come with shoot down into the other. Why should we
Nigel to the conference, and now, amid the not turn all our strength upon it since it is
silence which followed the leader’s proposal, the weaker of the twain?”
he asked if he might be heard. He was But again the young leader shook his head.
clad in the brazen armour which Nigel had “ If I should take it,” said he, “ I am still
taken from the Red Ferret. no nearer to my desire, nor will it avail me
“ It may be that it is not for me to join in in getting back my bowmen. It may cost a
your council,” said he “ seeing that I am a score of men, and what profit shall I have
prisoner and a Frenchman. But this man from it ? Had I bombards I might place
is the enemy of all, and we of France owe them on yonder hill, but having none it is
him a debt even as you do, since many a of little use to me.”
good Frenchman has died in his cellars. “ It may be,” said Nigel, “ that they have
For this reason I crave to be heard.” scant food or water, and so must come forth
“ We will hear you,” said Knolles, coldly. to fight us.”
“ I have come from Evran yesterday,” “ I have made inquiry of the peasants,”
said he. “ Sir Henry Spinnefort, Sir Peter Knolles answered, “ and they are of one
la Roye, and many other brave knights and mind that there is a well within the castle
squires lie there with a good company of and good store of food. Nay, gentlemen,
men, all of whom would very gladly join with there is no way before us save to take it by
you to destroy this Butcher and his castle, arms, and no spot where we can attempt it
for it is well known amongst us that his save through the great gate. Soon we will
deeds are neither good nor fair. There are have so many faggots that we can cast them
also bombards which we could drag over the down into the ditch and so win our way
hills, and so beat down this iron gate. If across. I have ordered them to cut a pine
you so order it I will ride to Evran and tree on the hill and shear the branches so
bring my companions back with me.” that we may beat down the gate with it.
“ Indeed, Robert,” said Percy, “ it is in But what is now amiss, and why do they run
my mind that this Frenchman speaks very forward to the castle ? ”
wisely and well.” A buzz had risen from the soldiers in the
“ And when we have taken the castle— camp, and they all crowded in one direction,
what then?” asked Knolles, scanning him rushing towards the castle wall. The knights
with his hard, grey eyes. and squires rode after them, and when in
“ Then you could go upon your way, fair view of the main gate the cause of the dis­
sir, and we upon ours. Or, if it please you turbance lay before them. On the tower
better, you could draw together on yonder above the portal three men were standing in
hill and we on this one, so that the valley the garb of English archers, ropes round
lies between us. Then if any cavalier wished their necks and their hands bound behind
to advance himself or to shed a vow and them. Their comrades surged below them
exalt his lady, an opening might be found for with cries of recognition and of pity.
him. Surely it would be shame if so many “ It is Ambrose,” cried one. “ Surely it
brave men drew together and no small deed is Ambrose of Ingleton.”
were to come of it.” “ Yes, in truth, I see his yellow hair. And
Nigel clasped his captive’s hand to snow the other, him with the beard, it is Lockwood
his admiration and esteem, but Knolles of Skipton. Alas for his wife who keeps the
shook his head. booth by the bridge head of Ribble ! I wot
“ Things are not ordered thus, save in the not who the third may be.”
tales of the minstrels,” said he. “ I have no “ It is little Johnny Alspaye, the youngest
wish that your people at Evran should know man in the Company,” cried old Wat, with
our numbers or our plans. I am not in this the tears running down his cheeks ; “ ’twas I
land for knight-errantry, but I am here to who brought him from his home. Alas 1
make head against the King’s enemies. Has Alas ! Foul fare the day that ever I coaxed
no one aught else to say ? ” him from his mother’s side that he might
Percy pointed to the small outlying perish in a far land ! ”
 SIR N IG E L . 25 r

There was the sudden flourish of a

trumpet and the drawbridge fell.
Across it strode a portly man witli 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 Bro-
hiniere. He bids me to
say that if you continue
your journey and molest
him no further he will en­
gage upon his part to make
no further attack upon you.
As to the men whom he
holds he will enrol them in
his own honourable service,
lor he has need of long
bowmen, 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 warn­
ing that he will hang these three men
over his gateway, and every morning
another three until all have been I W O U LD S P E A K W I T H Y O U R L E A D E R , H E CRIED.

slain. This he has sworn upon the

rood of Calvary, and as he has said, so will vanished into the gloomy arch of the gate­
he do, upon jeopardy of his soul.” way the drawbridge swung up with creak and
Robert Knolles looked grimly at the rattle behind him. A few minutes later a rough-
messenger. bearded fellow stepped out over the portal
“ You may thank the saints that you have where the condemned archers stood, and
had my promise,” said he, “ else would I seizing the first by the shoulders he thrust
have stripped that lying tabard from thy back him over the wall. A cry burst from the
and the skin beneath it from thy bones, that man’s lips and a deep groan from those of
thy master might have a fitting answer to his his comrades below as he fell with a jerk
message. Tell him that I hold him and all which sent him half-way up to the parapet
that are within his castle as hostage for the again, and then, after dancing like a child’s
lives of my men, and that should he dare to toy, swung slowly backwards and forwards
do them scathe he and every man that is with with limp limbs and twisted neck.
him shall hang upon his battlements. Go, The hangman turned and bowed in mock
and go quickly, lest my patience fail.” reverence to the spectators beneath him. He
There was that in Knolles’s cold grey eyes had not yet learned in a land of puny archers
and in his manner of speaking those last how sure and how strong was the English bow.
words which sent the portly envoy hack at a Half-a-dozen men, old Wat amongst them,
quicker gait than he had come. As he had run forward towards the wall. They
 252 TH E STRAND M A G A ZIN E .

were too late to save their comrades, but at walked towards his boy victim, seized him
least their deaths were speedily avenged. by the ear, and dragged him across so that
The man was in the act of pushing off the the rope might be straight. Seeing that the
second prisoner when an arrow crashed noose had slipped across the face, he tried to
through his head, and he fell stone dead push it down, but the mail glove hampering
upon the parapet. But even in falling he him, he pulled it off, and grasped the rope
had given the fatal thrust, and a second above the lad’s head with his naked hand.
russet figure swung beside the first against Quick as a flash old Wat’s arrow had sped,
the dark background of the castle wall. and the Butcher sprang back with a howl of
There only remained the young lad, Johnny pain, his hand skewered by a cloth-yard shaft.
Alspaye, who stood shaking with fear, an abyss As he shook it furiously at his enemies a
below him, and the voices of those who second grazed his knuckles. With a brutal
would hurl him over it behind. There was kick of his metal shod foot he hurled young
a long pause before anyone would come Alspaye over the edge, looked down for a
fortli to dare those deadly arrows. Then a few moments at his death agonies, and then
fellow, crouching double, ran forward from walked slowly from the parapet, nursing
the shelter, keeping the young archer’s body his dripping hand, the arrows still ringing
as a shield between himself and danger. loudly upon his back-piece as he went
“ 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 (ace. 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 armoured man. He
walked to the edge,
and they heard his
hoarse guffaw of
laughter as the ar­
rows clanged and
clattered agai nst
his impenetrable
mail. He slapped
his breastplate, as
he jeered at them.
Well he knew that
at the distance no
dart ever sped by
mortal hands could
cleave through his
plates o f metal.
So he stood, the
great, burly
Butcher of La Bro-
hiniere, with head
uptossed, laughing
insolently at his
foes. Then, with slow
and ponderous tread, he “ H E H U R LE D YOUNG A L S P A Y E O V ER T H E E D G E ."
 A/A’ N IG E L . 2 S3

The archers below, enraged at the death end to end. The three knights with Nigel,
of their comrades, leaped and howled like a the Frenchman Raoul, and the other squires
pack of ravening wolves. stood beside the ram, cheering on the men,
“ By St. Dunstan,” said Percy, looking and chanting to the rhythm of the swing
round at their flushed faces, “ if ever we are with a loud “ Ha ! ” at every blow. A great
to carry it now is the moment, for these men stone loosened from the parapet roared
w'ill not be stopped if hate can take them through the air and struck Sir James Astley
forward.” and another of the attackers, but Nigel and
“ You are right, Thomas ! ” cried Knolles. the Frenchman had taken their places in an
“ Gather together twenty men-at-arms, each instant, and the ram thudded and smashed
with his shield to cover him. Astley, do with greater energy than ever. Another
you place the bowmen so that no head may blow and another ! The lower part was
show at window or parapet. Nigel, I pray staving inwards, but-the great central bar
you to order the countryfolk forward with still held firm. Surely another minute would
their fardels of faggots. Let the others beat it from its sockets.
bring up the lopped pine tree which lies But suddenly from above there came a
yonder behind the horse lines. Ten men- great deluge of liquid. A hogshead of it had
at-arms can bear it on the right, and ten on been tilted from the battlement until soldiers,
the left, having shields over their heads. The bridge, and ram were equally drenched in
gate once down let every man rush in, and yellow slime. Knolles rubbed his gauntlet
God help the better cause ! ” in it, held it to his visor, and smelled it.
Swiftly and yet quietly the dispositions “ Back ! back ! ” he cried. “ Back before
were made, for these were old soldiers whose it is too late ! ”
daily trade was war. In little groups the 't here was a small barred window above
archers formed in front of each slit or crevice their heads at the side of the gate. A ruddy
in the walls, whilst others scanned the battle­ glare shone through it, and then a blazing
ments with wary eyes and sped an arrow at torch was tossed down upon them. In a
every face which gleamed for an instant moment the oil had caught and the whole
above them. The garrison shot forth a place was a sheet of flame. The fir tree that
shower of crossbow bolts and an occasional they carried, the faggots beneath them, their
stone from their engine, but so deadly was very weapons were all in a blaze. To right
the hail which rained upon them that they and left the men sprang down into the dry
had no time to dwell upon their aim, and ditch, rolling with screams upon the ground
their discharges were wild and harmless. in their endeavour to extinguish the flames
Under cover of the shafts of the bowmen a The knights and squires, protected by their
line of peasants ran unscathed to the edge of armour, strove hard, stamping and slapping,
the ditch, each hurling in the bundle which to help those who had but leather jackets
he bore in his arms and then hurrying back to shield their bodies. From above a cease­
for another one. In twenty minutes a broad less shower of darts and of stones was
pathway of faggots lay level with the ground poured down upon them, while on the other
upon one side and the gate upon the other. hand the archers, seeing the greatness of the
With the loss of two peasants slain by bolts danger, ran up to the edge of the ditch, and
and one archer crushed by a stone the ditch shot fast and true at every face which showed
had been filled up. All was ready for the above the wall. Scorched, wearied, and be­
battering ram. draggled, the remains of the storming party
With a shout twenty picked men rushed clambered out of the ditch as best they
forward with the pine tree under their arms, could, clutching at the friendly hands held
the heavy end turned towards the gate. down to them, and so limped their way back
The arbalestiers on the tower leaned over amid the taunts and howls of their enemies.
and shot into the midst of them, but could A long pile of smouldering cinders was all that
not stop their advance. Two dropped, but remained of their bridge, and on it Astley
the others, raising their shields, ran onwards and six other red-hot men lay glowing in
still shouting, crossed the bridge of faggots, their armour. Knolles clenched his hands
and came with a thundering crash against as he looked back at the ruin that was
the door. It splintered from base to arch, wrought, and then surveyed the group of men
but kept its place. Swinging their mighty who stood or lay around him nursing their
weapon, the storming party thudded and burned limbs and scowling up at the exultant
crashed upon the gate, every blow loosening figures who waved on the castle wall. Badly
and widening the cracks which rent it from scorched himself, the young leader had no
 254 TH E ST R A N D M A G A ZIN E .

In an instant, forgetful of
all things but this noble
challenge, Nigel was run­
ning at the top of his speed
for the burning gate. Close
at his heels was the French­
man, blowing and gasping,
as he clashed along in his
brazen armour. Behind
came a stream of howling
archers and men - at - arms,
like a flood which has
broken its dam. Down they
slipped intothe 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 a spray of
sparks into the dark arch
way beyond.
F o r a moment they
thought with mad rapture
that the castle had been
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
A S T L K Y A N D S I X O T H E R R E D - H O T MEN' L A Y G L O W I N G IN T H E I R A R M O U R . the tunnel was pierced with slits,
and the crossbow bolts, discharged
thought for his own injuries in the rage and at only a few yards’ distance, crashed through
grief which racked his soul. armour as if it were cloth and laid man after
“ We will build another bridge,” he cried. man upon the stones. They raged and leaped
“ Set the peasants binding faggots once before the great, iron-clamped barrier, but the
more.” wall itself was as easy to tear down. It was bitter
But a thought had fLshed through Nigel’s to draw back, but it was madness to remain.
mind. Nigel looked round and saw that half his
“ See, fair sir,” said he. “ The nails of men were down. At the same moment Raoul
yonder door are red-hot and the wood as sank with a gasp at his feet, a bolt driven to its
white as ashes. Surely we may break our socket through the links of the camail which
way through it.” guarded his neck. Some of the archers seeing
“ By the Virgin, you speak truly,” cried that certain death awaited them were already
the French squire. “ If we can cross the running back to escape from the fatal passage.
ditch the gate will not stop us. Come, “ By St. P a u l ! ” cried Nigel, hotly.
Nigel, for our fair ladies’ sakes, I will race “ Would you leave our wounded where
you who will reach it first, England or this Butcher may lay his hands upon them ?
France.” Let the archers shoot inwards and hold them
Alas for all the wise words of the good back from the slits. Now let each man raise
Chandos ! Alas for all the lessons in order one of our comrades lest we leave our honour
and discipline learned from the wary Knoltes. in the gate of this castle.”
 SIR N IG E L. 255

With a mighty effort he had raised Raoul be no man of blood and coat-armour who
upon his shoulders and staggered with him has not heard your name and your fame.
to the edge of the ditch. Several men were This I tell you— I, Raoul de la Roche Pierre
waiting below where the steep bank shielded de Bras, dying upon the field of honour.
them from the arrows, and to them Nigel And now kiss me, sweet friend, and lay me
handed down his wounded friend, and each back, for the mists close around me and I
archer in turn did the same. Again and am gone.”
again Nigel went back, until no one lay in With tender hands the squire lowered his
the tunnel save seven who had died there. comrade’s head, but even as he did so there
Thirteen wounded were laid in the shelter of came a choking rush of blood, and the soul
the ditch and there they must remain until had passed. So died a gallant cavalier of
night came to cover them. Meanwhile the France, and Nigel, as he knelt in the ditch
bowmen on the farther side protected them beside him, prayed that his own end might be
from attack, and also prevented the enemy as noble and as debonair.
from all attempts to build up the outer gate.
The gaping, smoke-blackened arch was all CHAPTER XXI .
that they could show for a loss of thirty men, HOW T H E SECO ND M E SSE N G E R W ENT TO
but that at least Knolles was determined to COS FORD.
keep. U n d e r cover of night the wounded men
Burned and bruised, but unconscious of were lifted from the ditch and carried back,
either pain or fatigue for the turmoil of his whilst pickets of archers were advanced to
spirit within him, Nigel knelt by the French­ the very gate so that none should re-build it.
man and loosened his helmet. The girlish Nigel, sick at heart over his own failure, the
face of the young squire was white as chalk, death of his prisoner, and his fears for
and the haze of death was gathering over his Aylward, crept back into the camp, but his
violet eyes, but a faint smile played round cup was not yet full, for Knolles was waiting
his lips as he looked up at his English for him with a tongue which cut like a whip­
comrade. lash. Who was he, a raw squire, that he
“ I shall never see Beatrice again,” he should lead an attack without orders ? See
whispered. “ I pray you, Nigel, that when what his crazy knight-errantry had brought
there is a truce you will journey as far as about! Twenty men had been destroyed by
my father’s chateau and tell him how his it, and nothing gained. Their blood was on
son died. Young Gaston will rejoice, for his head. Chandos should hear of his con­
to him come the land and the coat, the duct. He should be sent back to England
war-cry and the profit. See them, Nigel, when the castle had fallen. Such were the
and tell them that I was as forward as the bitter words of Knolles, the more bitter
others.” because Nigel felt in his heart that he
“ Indeed, Raoul, no man could have had indeed done wrong, and that Chandos
carried himself with more honour or won would have said the same, though, per­
more worship than you have done this day. chance, in kinder words. He listened in
I will do your behest when the time comes.” silent respect, as his duty was, and then,
“ Surely you are happy, Nigel," the dying having saluted his leader, he withdrew apart,
squire murmured, “ for this day has given threw himself down amongst the bushes and
you one more deed which you may lay at the wept the hottest tears of his life, sobbing
feet of your lady-love.” bitterly with his face between his hands. He
“ It might have been so had we carried had striven hard, and yet everything had gone
the gate,” Nigel answered, sadly; “ but by wrong with him. H e was bruised, burned,
St. Paul 1 I cannot count it a deed where and aching from head to foot. Yet so high
I have come back with my purpose unful­ is the spirit above the body that all was
filled. But this is no time, Raoul, to talk of nothing compared to the sorrow and shame
my small affairs. If we take the castle and I which racked his soul.
bear a good part in it, then perchance all But a little thing changed the current of
this may indeed avail.” his thoughts and brought some peace to his
The Frenchman sat up with that strange mind. He had slipped off his mail gauntlets,
energy which comes often as the harbinger of and as he did so his fingers lit upon the tiny
death. bangle which Mary had fastened there when
“ You will win your Lady Mary, Nigel, and they stood together upon St. Catherine’s Hill
your great deeds will be not three but a on the Guildford Road. He remembered
score, so that in all Christendom there shall the motto curiously worked in filigree of
 25r> TH E STRAND M A G A ZIN E .

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
well.”
“ I have good
cause so to do.”
“ Then you and
I, Squire Loring,
have more reason
to strive on his be­
half than any of
these others, who
thin k m ore o f
taking the castle
than of sa v in g
those who are cap­
H E T H R E W H I M S E L F DOWN A M O N G T H E tives within. Do
BUSHES AND WEFT T H E HOTTEST TEA K S
O F HIS L I F E . "
you not see that
such a man as
gold. It ran, “ Ecu's ce c/itc dais, adviegne que this robber lord would, when all else had
pourra—c'est command! au chevalier." The failed him, most surely cut the throats o f
words rang in his weary brain. He had his prisoners at the last instant before the
done what seemed right, come what might. castle fell, knowing well that come what
It had gone awry, it is true, but all things might he would have short shrift himself?
human may do that. If he had carried the Is that not certain ? ”
castle he felt that Knolles would have for­ •“ By St. Paul ! I had not thought of it.”
given and forgotten all else. If he had not “ I was with you, hammering at the inner
carried it, it was no fault of his. No man gate,” said Simon, “ and yet once when I
could have done more. If Mary could see thought it was giving way I said in my
she would surely have approved. 1 hopping heart ‘ Good-bye, Samkin. I shall never see
into sleep he saw her dark face, shining with you more.’ This Baron has gall in his soul,
pride and with pity, stooping over him as he even as 1 have myself, and do you think that
lay. She stretched out her hand in his ' I would give up my prisoners alive, if I were
dream and touched him on the shoulder. constrained so to do? No, no; had we won
He sprang up and rubbed his eyes, for fact our way this day it would have been the
had woven itself into dream in the strange death-stroke for them all.”
way that it does, and someone was, indeed, “ It may be that you are right, Simon,”
leaning over him in the gloom, and shaking said Nigel, “ and the thought of it should
him from his slumbers. But the gentle assuage our grief. But if we cannot save
voice and soft touch of the Lady Mary had them by taking the castle, then surely they
changed suddenly to the harsh accents and are lost indeed.”
rough grip of Black Simon, the fierce Norfolk “ It may be so, or it may not,” Simon
man-at-arms. answered, slowly. “ It is in my mind that if
“ Surely, you are the Squire Boring?” he the castle were taken very suddenly, and in
said, peering close to his face in the darkness. such a fashion that they could not foresee it,
“ 1 am he. What then ? ” then perchance we might get the prisoners
“ I have searched through the camp for before they could do them scathe.”
you, but when I saw the great horse tethered Nigel bent forward eagerly, his hand on
near these bushes, I thought you would be the soldier’s arm.
found hard by. I would have a word with “ You have some plan in your mind,
you.” Simon. Tell me what it is.”
“ Speak on.” “ I had wished to tell Sir Robert, but he
“ This man Aylward, the bowman, was my is preparing the assault for to-morrow and
 SIR N IG E L. 257
will not be turned from his purpose. I have, failed ? The thought flashed through Nigel’s
indeed, a plan, but whether it be good or mind, but another came swiftly behind it.
not I cannot say until I have tried it. But He would not venture farther unless he
first I will tell you what put it into my found hopes of success. And if he did
thoughts. Know, then, that this morning venture further he would put his life upon it.
when I was in yonder ditch I marked one Giving that, he made amends for all errors.
of their men upon the wall. He was a big And if on the other hand success crowned
man with a white face, red hair, and a touch their efforts, then Knolles would forgive his
of St. Anthony’s fire upon the cheek.” failure at the gateway. A minute later, every
“ But what has this to do with Aylward ? ” doubt banished from his mind, he was
“ I will show you. This evening, after the making his way through the darkness under
assault, I chanced to walk with some of my the guidance of Black Simon.
fellows round yonder small fort upon the Outside the camp the two other men-at-
knoll to see if we could spy a weak spot in arms were waiting for them, and the four
it. Some of them came to the wall to curse advanced together. Presently a little group
us, and among them whom should I see but of figures loomed up in the darkness. It was
a big man with a white face, red hair, and a a cloudy night, and a thin rain was falling
touch of Anthony’s fire upon his cheek. which obscured both the castle and the fort,
What make you of that, Squire Nigel ? ” but a stone had been placed by Simon in the
“ That this man had crossed from the daytime which assured that they were between
castle to the fort. ’ the two.
“ In good sooth, it must indeed be so. “ Is blind Andreas there ? ” asked Simon.
There are not two such kenspeckled men in “ Yes, kind sir, I am here,” said a voice.
the world. But if he crossed from the castle “ This man,” said Simon, “ was once rich
to the fort it was not above the ground, for and of good repute, but he was beggared by
our own people were between.” this robber lord, who afterwards put out his
“ By St. Paul, I see your meaning ! ” cried eyes, so that he has lived for many years in
Nigel. “ It is in your mind that there is a darkness at the charity of others.”
passage under the earth from one to the “ How can he help us in our enterprise if
other ? ” he be indeed blind ? ” said Nigel.
“ I am well sure of it.” “ It is for that very reason, fair lord, that
“ Then, if we should take the small fort, he can be of greater service than any other
we may pass down this tunnel, and so carry man,” Simon answered, “ for it often happens
the great castle also.” that when a man has lost a sense the good
“ Such a thing might happen,” said Simon, God will strengthen those that remain.
“ and yet it is dangerous also ; for surely Hence it is that Andreas has such ears that
those in the castle would hear our assault he can hear the sap in the trees or the cheep
upon the fort, and so be warned to bar the of the mouse in its burrow. He has come to
passage against us, and to slay the prisoners help us to find the tunnel.”
before we could come.” “ And I have found it,” said the blind
“ What, then, is your rede ? ” man, proudly. “ Here I have placed my
“ Could we find where the tunnel lay, staff upon the line of it. Twice as I lay there
Squire Nigel, I know not what is to prevent with my ear to the ground I have heard foot­
us from digging down upon it and breaking steps pass beneath me.”
into it so that both fort and castle are at our “ I trust you make no niistake, old man,”
mercy before either knows that we are there.” said Nigel.
Nigel clapped his hands with joy. For answer the blind man raised his staff
“ ’Fore God ! ” he cried. “ It is a most and smote twice upon the ground, once to
noble plan 1 But, alas, Simon, I see not how the right and once to the left. The one
we can tell the course of this passage or gave a dull thud, the other a hollow boom.
where we should dig.” “ Can you not hear that ? ” he asked.
“ I have peasants yonder with spades,’ “ Will you ask me now if 1 make a mistake ? ”
said Simon. “ There are two of my friends, “ Indeed, we are much beholden to you ! ”
Harding of Barnstaple and West-country cried Nigel. “ Let the peasants dig then,
Will, who are waiting for us with their gear. and as silently as they may. Do you keep
I f you will come to lead us, Squire Nigel, your ear upon the ground, Andreas, so that
we are ready to venture our bodies in the if anyone pass beneath us we shall be
attempt.” warned.”
What would Knolles say in case they So, amid the driving rain, the little group
Vol. xxxii.—33.
 258 TH E ST R A N D M A G A ZIN E .

toiled in the darkness. The blind man lay “ I hear steps coming,” said he. “ They
silent, flat upon his face, and twice they are far off, but they draw nearer.”
heard his warning hiss and stopped their Simon thrust his head and neck down the
work, whilst someone passed beneath. In hole.
an hour they had dug down to a stone arch, “ Squire Nigel,” he whispered, “ can you
which was clearly the outer side of the tunnel hear m e?"
roof. Here was a sad obstacle, for it might “ I can hear you, Simon.”
take long to loosen a stone, and if their work “ Andreas says that someone comes.”
were not done by the break of day then “ Then cover over the hole,” came the
their enterprise was indeed hopeless. They answer. “ Quick, I pray you, cover it over.”
loosened the mortar with a dagger and at A mantle was stretched across it so that
last dislodged one small stone, which enabled no glimmer of light should warn the new­
them to get at the others. Presently a dark comer. The fear was that he might have
hole, blacker than the night around them, heard the sound of Nigel’s descent. But
yawned at their feet, and their swords could soon it was clear that he had not done so,
touch no bottom to it. They had opened for Andreas announced that he was still
the tunnel. advancing. Presently Nigel could hear the
“ I would fain enter it first,” said Nigel. distant thud of his feet. If he bore a lantern
“ I pray you to lower me down.” They held all was lost. But no gleam of light appeared
him to the full length of their arms and then, in the black tunnel, and still the footsteps
letting him drop, they heard him land safely drew nearer. Nigel breathed a prayer of
beneath them. An instant later the blind thanks to all his guardian saints as he
man started up with a low cry of alarm. crouched close to the slimy wall and waited
b re a th le ss, his
dagger in his hand.
Nearer yet and
nearer came the
steps. He could
hear the stranger’s
coarse breathing
in the darkness.
T h e n , as he
brushed past, Nigel
b o u n d ed upon
him with a tiger
spring. There was
one gasp of aston­
ishment, and not
a sound more, for
the squire’s grip
was on the man’s
th ro a t, and his
body was pinned
motionless against
the wall.
‘ ‘ S i m o n !
S i m o n ! ” crie d
Nigel, loudly.
The mantle was
moved from the
hole.
“ Have you a
cord ? Or your
belts linked
to g e th e r may
serve.”
O ne o f th e
peasants had a
A DARK HOLE, B L A C K E R TH A N T H E N IGHT AROUND TH EM , YA W N ED A T T H E IR F E E T . " rope, and Nigel
 SIR NIG EL. 259
a fat, clean-shaven face, and a
cloth gaberdine which hung to
the ankles.
“ W h o a r e y o u ? ” he
whispered. “ Speak the truth
and speak it low, if you would
ever speak again.”
T h e m an’ 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. I f they
should die in sin their
damnation is upon you.”
“ How are you called,
then ? ”
“ I am Dorn Peter de
Cervolles.”
“ I)e 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
THF . S Q U I R E S G R I P W A S ON
THE m a n s ’ T H R O A T .' *
than this one. Friends,
friends, if I have done
aught for you this night,
soon felt it dangling against his hand. He I ask but one reward, that ye let me have
listened, and there was no sound in the my will of this man.”
passage. For an instant he released his But Nigel pushed the old man back.
captive’s throat. A torrent of prayers and “ There is no time for this,” he said.
entreaties came forth. The man was shaking “ Now, hark you, priest— if priest indeed you
like a leaf in the wind. Nigel pressed the be—your gown and tonsure will not save you
point of his dagger against his face and dared if you play us false, for we are here of a set
him to open his lips. Then he slipped the purpose and we will go forward with it, come
rope beneath his arms and tied it. what may. Answer me, and answer me
“ Pull him up ! ” he whispered, and for an truly, or it will be an ill night for you.
instant the grey glimmer above him was In what part of the castle does this tunnel
obscured. enter ? ”
“ We have him, fair sir,” said Simon. “ In the lower cellar.”
“ Then drop me the rope, and hold it “ What is at the end ? ”
fast.” “ An oaken door.”
A moment later Nigel stood among the “ Is it barred ? ”
group of men who had gathered round their “ Yes, it is barred.”
captive. It was too dark to see him and “ How would you have entered ? ”
they dared not strike flint and steel. Simon “ I would have given the password.”
passed his hand roughly over him and felt “ Who, then, would have opened ? ”
 260 TH E ST R A N D M A G A ZIN E .

“ There is a guard within.” barred their passage. Nigel struck upon it

“ And beyond him ? ” with his hand.
“ Beyond him are the prison cells and the There was the rasping of a bolt and then a
gaolers.” loud voice : “ Is that you, priest ? ”
“ Who else would be afoot ? ” “ Yes, it is I,” said the prisoner, in a
“ No one save a guard at the gate and quavering voice. “ Open, Arnold ! ”
another on the battlement.” The voice was enough. There was no
“ What, then, is the password ? ” question of passwords. The door swung
The man was silent. inwards, and in an instant the janitor was
“ The password, fellow ! ” The cold points cut down by Nigel and Simon. So sudden
of two daggers pricked his throat, but still and so fierce was the attack that, save for the
he would not speak. thud of his body no sound was heard. A
“ Where is the blind m an ?” asked Nigel. flood of light burst outwards into the passage,
“ Here, Andreas, you can have him and do and the Englishmen stood with blinking eyes
what you will with him.” in its glare. In front of them lay a stone-
“ Nay, nay,” the priest whimpered. “ Keep flagged corridor, across which lay the dead
him off me. Save me from blind Andreas ! body of the janitor. It had doors on either
I will tell you everything.” side of it, and another grated door at the
“ The password, then, this instant! ” farther end. A strange hubbub, a kind of
“ It is ‘ Benedicite.’ ” low droning and whining filled the air. The
“ We have the password, Simon,” cried four men were standing listening, full of#
Nigel. “ Come, then, let us on to the wonder as to what this might mean, when a
farther end. These peasants will guard the sharp cry came from behind them. The
priest, and they will remain here lest we wish priest lay in a shapeless heap upon the
to send a message.” ground and the blood was rushing from his
“ Nay, fair sir, it is in my mind that we gaping throat. Down the passage, a black
can do better,” said Simon. “ Let us take shadow in the yellow light, there fled a
the priest with us, so that he who is within crouching man, who clattered with a stick as
may know his voice.” he went.
“ It is well thought of,” said N igel; “ and “ It is Andreas,” cried West-country Will.
first let us pray together, for indeed this “ He has slain him.”
night may well be our last.” He and his “ Then it was he that I heard behind us,”
three men-at-arms knelt in the rain and said Nigel. “ Doubtless he was at our very
sent up their simple orisons, Simon still heels in the darkness. I fear that the priest’s
clutching tight to his prisoner’s wrist. The cry has been heard.”
priest fumbled in his breast and drew some­ “ Nay,” said Simon, “ there are so many
thing forth. cries that one more may well pass. Let us
“ It is the heart of the blessed Confessor take this lamp from the wall and see what
Saint Enogat,” said he. “ It may be that it sort of devil’s den we have around us.”
will ease and assoil your souls if you would They opened the door upon the right, and
wish to handle it.” so horrible a smell issued from it that they
The four Englishmen passed the flat silver were driven backward. The lamp which
case from hand to hand, each pressing his Simon held forward showed a monkey-like
lips devoutly upon it. Then they rose to creature mowing and grimacing in the
their feet. Nigel was the first to lower him­ corner, man or woman none could tell, but
self down the hole ; then Simon, then the driven crazy by loneliness and horror. In
priest, who was instantly seized by the other the other cell was a grey-bearded man
two. The men-at-arms followed them. They fettered to the wall, looking blankly before
had scarcely moved away from the hole when him, a body without a soul, yet with life still
Nigel stopped. in him, for his dull eyes turned slowly in
“ Surely someone else came after us,” their direction. But it was from behind the
said he. central door at the end of the passage that
They listened, but no whisper or rustle the chorus of sad cries came which filled
came from behind them. For a minute the air.
they paused and then resumed their journey “ Simon,” said Nigel, “ before we go
through the dark. It seemed a long, long farther we will take this outer door from its
way, though in truth it was but a few hundred hinges. With it we will block this passage,
yards before they came to a door with a so that at the worst we may hold our ground
glimmer of yellow light around it, which here until help comes. Do you back to the
 SIR N IG EL. 261

camp as fast as your feet can bear you.- The Reluctantly the man-at-arms sped upon
peasants will draw you upwards through the his errand. They could hear the racing of
hole. Give my greetings to Sir Robert, and his feet and the low jingle of his harness
tell him that the castle is taken without fail until they died away in the tunnel. Then
if he come this way with fifty men, Say the three companions approached the door
that we have made at the end. It was
a lodgment within their intention to wait
the walls. And tell where they were until
him also, Simon, help should come, but
t h a t I w ould su d d e n ly am id the
counsel him to 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 fol­
lowed the appeal.
All the hot blood
rushed to Nigel’s head
at the sound, buzzing
in his ears and throb­
bing 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
m en-at-arm s at his
heels. So strange was
the scene before them
that for an instant all
three stood motionless
with horror and sur­
prise.
It was a great vaulted
chamber, brightly lit by
many torches. At the
farther end roared a
“ t h e p r ie st la y in a sh a p ele ss h ea p upon t h e .
ground
great fire. In front of
it three naked men
make a stir before the gateway, so that the chainedto posts in such a way
guard may be held there whilst we make that flinch as they might they could never
good our footing behind them. Go, good get beyond the range of its scorching
Simon, and lose not a moment.” heat. Yet they were so far from it that no
But the man-at-arms shook his head. actual burn would be inflicted if they could
“ It is I who have brought you here, fair but keep turning and shifting so as con­
sir, and here I bide through fair and foul. tinually to present some fresh portion of
But you speak wisely and well, for Sir Robert their flesh tothe flames. Hence they
should indeed be told what is going forward danced and whirled in front of the fire,
now that we have gone so far. Harding, do tossing ceaselessly this way and that within
you go with all speed and bear the gentle the compass of their chains, wearied to
Nigel’s message.” death, their protruding tongues cracked
 262 TH E ST R A N D M A G A ZIN E .

“ SO S T R A N G E W A S T H E S C E N E B E F O R E T H E M T H A T F O R A N I N S T A N T A L L T H R E E S TO OD M O T I O N L E S S . ”

and blackened with thirst, but unable for been seated with a flagon of wine between
one instant to rest from their writhings and them at a table near the fire, sprang wildly to
contortions. their feet, staring with blank amazement at
Even stranger was the sight at each side of this sudden inrush. That instant of delay
the room, whence came that chorus of groans deprived them of their last chance of safety.
which had first struck upon the ears of Nigel Midway down the room was a flight of stone
and his companions. A line of great hogs­ steps which led to the main door. Swift as
heads were placed alongside the walls, and a wild cat Nigel bounded towards it and
within each sat a man, his head protruding gained the steps a stride or two before the
from the top. As they moved within there was jailers. They turned and made for the other
a constant splashing and washing of water. which led to the passage, but Simon and his
The white, wan faces all turned together as comrade were nearer to it than they. Two
the door flew open, and a cry of amazement sweeping blows, two dagger thrusts into
and of hope took the place of those long- w'rithing figures, and the ruffians who worked
drawn moans of despair. At the same the will of the Butcher lay dead upon the
instant two fellows clad in black, who had floor of their slaughter-house.
( To be continued.)
K N O LLES A N D 1 IIS MEN S T R E A M E D IN TO T H E B A IL E Y -Y A R D O F T IIE C A S T L E .'’
(See fiagc 366.)
 T he Strand M agazine.
Vol. xxxii. OCTOBER, 1906. No. 190.

SIR NIGEL.
B y A . C O N A N D O Y L E .

C H A P T E R X X I.— (Continued.) to the blaze. Soon their tongues at least

H, the buzz of joy and of were thawed, and they poured out the story
prayer from all those white of their troubles with many a prayer and
lips ! Oh, the light of return­ ejaculation to the saints for their safe delivery.
ing hope in all those sunken, No food had crossed their lips since they had
weary eyes ! One wild shout been taken. The Butcher had commanded
would have gone up had not them to join his garrison, and to shoot upon
Nigel’s outstretched hands and warning voice their comrades from the wall. When they
hushed them to silence. He opened the refused he had set aside three of them for
door behind him. A curving newel stair­ execution. The others had been dragged to
case wound upwards into the darkness. He the cellar, whither the leering tyrant had
listened, but no sound came down. There followed them. Only one question he had
was a key in the outer lock of the iron door. asked them, whether they were of a hot-
He whipped it out and turned it on the blooded nature or of a cold. Blows were
inner side. The ground that they had showered upon them until they answered.
gained was safe. Now they could turn to Three had said cold, and had been con­
the relief of these poor fellows beside them. demned to the torment of the fire. The
A few strong blows struck off the irons and rest, who had said hot, were delivered up to
freed the three dancers before the fire. With the torture of the water-cask. Every few
a husky croak of joy they rushed across to hours this man or fiend had come down to
their comrades’ water-barrels, plunged their exult over their sufferings, and to ask them
heads in 1 kc horses, and drank, and drank, whether they were ready yet to enter his
and drank. Then in turn the poor, shivering service. Three had consented and were
wretches were taken out of the barrels, their gone. But the others had all of them stood
skins bleached and wrinkled with long firm—two of them even to their death.
soaking. Their bonds were torn from them, Such was the tale to which Nigel and his
but, cramped and fixed, their limbs refused comrades listened whilst they waited impa­
to act, and they tumbled and twisted upon tiently for the coming of Knolles and his
the floor in their efforts to reach Nigel and men. Many an anxious look did they cast
to kiss his hand. down the black tunnel, but no glimmer ol
In a corner lay Aylward, dripping from his light and no clash of steel came from its
barrel and exhausted with cold and hunger. depths. Suddenly, however, a loud and
Nigel ran to his side and raised his head. measured sound broke upon their ears. It
The jug of wine from which the two jailers was a dull, metallic clang, ponderous and
had drunk still stood upon their table. The slow, growing louder and ever louder—the
squire placed it to the archer’s lips and he tread of an armoured man. The poor
took a hearty pull at it. wretches round the fire, all unnerved by
“ How is it with you now, Aylward ? ” hunger and suffering, huddled together with
“ Better, squire, better, but may I never wan, scared faces, their eyes fixed in terror
touch water again so long as I live. Alas, on the door.
poor Dicon has gone—and Stephen also— “ It is he,” they whispered. “ It is the
the life chilled out of them. The cold is in Butcher him self! ”
the very marrow of my bones. I pray you let Nigel had darted to the door, and listened
me lean upon your arm as far as the fire, intently. There were no footfalls save those
that I may warm the frozen blood and set it of one man. Once sure of that, he softly
running in my veins once more.” turned the key in the lock. At the same
A strange sight it was to see these twenty instant there came a bull’s bellow from
naked men crouching in a half-circle round without.
the fire with their trembling hands extended “ Ives ! Bertrand I ” cried the voice. “ Can
Vol. xxxii.— 4 6 Copyright, 1906, by A. Conan Doyle, in the United States of America.
 364 TH E ST R A N D M AG AZIN E.

you not hear me coming, you drunken pulled him across the room by his two ankles
varlets ? You shall cool your own heads in and dragged him into the fire. Nigel shud­
the water-casks, you lazy rascals ! What, not dered and turned away his eyes as he saw
even now ? Open, you dogs—open, I say ! ” the brazen figure roll out and stagger to his
He had thrust down the latch, and with a knees, only to be hurled once more into the
kick he flung the door wide and rushed heart of the blaze. His prisoners screamed
inwards. For an instant he stood motion­ with joy and clapped their hands as they
less, a statue of dull yellow metal, his eyes pushed him back with their feet until the
fixed upon the empty casks and the huddle armour was too hot for them to touch. Then
of naked men. Then, with the roar of a at last he lay still and glowed darkly red
trapped lion, he turned, but the door had whilst the naked men danced in a wild half­
slammed behind him, and Black Simon, with circle round the fire.
grim figure and sardonic face, stood between. But now at last the supports had come.
The Butcher looked round him helplessly, Lights flashed and armour gleamed down the
for he was unarmed save for his dagger. tunnel. The cellar filled with armed men,
Then his eyes fell upon Nigel's roses. while from above came the cries and turmoil
“ You are a gentleman of coat-armour,” he of the feigned assault upon the gate. Led
cried. “ I surrender myself to you.” by Knolles and Nigel, the storming party
“ I will not take your surrender, you black rushed upwards and seized the courtyard.
villain,” said Nigel. “ Draw and defend The guard of the gate taken in the rear
yourself. Simon, give him your sword.” threw down their weapons and cried for
“ Nay, this is madness,” said the blunt mercy. The gate was thrown open and the
man-at-arms. “ Why should I give the wasp assailants rushed in, with hundreds o f
a sting ? ” furious peasants at their heels. Some o f
“ Give it him, I say. I cannot kill him in the robbers died in hot blood, many in cold,
cold blood.” but all d i e d ,
“ But I can ! ” for Knolles had
yelled Aylward, vowed to give no
who had crept up quarter. 1 )ay was
from the fire. j ust b r e a k i n g
“ C om e, co m ­ v 1 .1 1ne last
rades ! By these fugitive had been
ten finger-bones, hunted out and
has he not taught slain. From all
us h ow c o l d sides came the
blood should be yells and whoops
warmed ? ” of the soldiers,
Take a pack of with the rending
wolves they were and r i vi ng o f
on him, and he doors, as they
clanged upon the burst into the
floor with a dozen store-rooms and
frenzied, naked treasure c h a m -
figures clutching hers. There was
a n d clin g in g a joyous scramble
above him. In amongst them for
vain Nigel tried the plunder of
to pull them off. el even y e a r s :
They were mad gold and jewels,
with rage, these satins and
tortured, starving v e l v e t s , rich
men, their eyes plate and noble
fixed and glaring, hangings, were
their hair on end, all to be had for
teeth g n ash in g the taking. The
fury, while they tore at rescued pri­
the howling, writhing s o n e r s , their
man. Then with a hunger appeased
rattle and clatter they L I G H T S F L A S H K D A N D A R M O U K G L E A M E D DOWN T H E T U N N E L . and their clothes
 SIR N IG E L . 36S
restored, led the search for booty. Nigel, ing, and he will say to her that for the
leaning on his sword by the gateway, saw second time St. Catherine has been our
Aylward totter past, a huge bundle under friend.”
each arm, another slung over his back, and a
smaller packet hanging from his mouth. He C H A P T E R X X II.
dropped it for a moment as he passed his HOW R O B E R T OF B EA U M A N O IR C A M E TO
young master. PLO ERM EL.
“ By these ten finger-bones, I am right S ir R o bert K and his men passed
n o lles
glad that I came to the war, and no man onwards that day, looking back many a time
could ask for a more goodly life,” said he. to see the two dark columns of smoke, one
“ I have a present here for every girl in thicker and one more slender, which arose
Tilford, and my father need never fear the from the castle and from the fort of La
frown of the Sacrist of Waverley again. But Brohinifere. There was not an archer nor a
how of you, Squire Loring ? It standeth not man-at-arms who did not bear a great bundle
aright that we should gather the harvest of spoil upon his back, and Knolles frowned
whilst you, who sowed it, go forth empty- darkly as he looked upon them. Very gladly
handed. Come, gentle sir, take these things would he have thrown it all down by the
that I have gathered, and I will go back and roadside, but he had tried such matters
find more.” before, and he knew that it was as safe to
But Nigel smiled and shook his head. tear a half-gnawed bone from a bear as their
“ You have gained what your heart blood-won plunder from such men as these.
desired, and perchance I have done so In any case it was but two days’ march to
also,” said he. Ploermel, where he hoped to bring his
An instant later Knolles strode up to him journey to an end.
with outstretched hand. That night they camped at Mauron, where
“ I ask your pardon, Nigel,” said h e ; “ I a small English and Breton garrison held the
have spoken too hotly in my wrath.” castle. Right glad were the bowmen to see
“ Nay, fair sir, I was at fault.” some of their own countrymen once more,
“ If we stand here now within this castle and they spent the night over wine and dice,
it is to you that I owe it. The King shall a crowd of Breton girls assisting, so that
know of it, and Chandos also. Can I do next morning their bundles were very much
aught else, Nigel, to prove to you the high lighter, and much of the plunder of La
esteem in which I hold you ? ” Brohiniere was left with the men and women
The squire flushed with pleasure. of Mauron. Next day their march lay with
“ Do you send a messenger home to a fair, sluggish river upon their right, and a
England, fair sir, with news of these great rolling forest upon their left which
doings ? ” covered the whole country. At last towards
“ Surely I must do so. But do not tell evening the towers of Ploermel rose before
me, Nigel, that you would be that messenger. them, and they saw against a darkening sky
Ask me some other favour, for indeed I can­ the Red Cross of England waving in the
not let you go.” wind. So blue was the river Due which
“ Now God forbid ! ” cried Nigel. “ By skirted the road, and so green its banks, that
S t P a u l! I would not be so caitiff and so they might indeed have been back beside
thrall as to leave you when some small deed their own homely streams, the Oxford
might still be done. But I would fain send Thames or the Midland Trent, but ever as
a message by your messenger.” the darkness deepened there came in wild
“ T o whom ? ” gusts the howling of wolves from the forest
“ It is to the Lady Mary, daughter of old to remind them that they were in a land of
Sir John Buttesthorn, who dwells near war. So busy had men been for many years
Guildford.” in hunting one another that the beasts of the
“ But you will write the message, Nigel. chase had grown to a monstrous degree,
Such greetings as a cavalier sends to his lady until the streets of the towns were no longer
love should be under seal.” safe from the wild inroads of the fierce
“ Nay, he can carry my message by svord creatures, the wolves and the bears, which
o f mouth.” swarmed around them.
“ Then I shall tell him, for he goes this It was nightfall when the little army
morning. What message, then, shall he say entered the outer gate of the castle of
to the lady ? ” Ploermel and encamped in the broad bailey
“ He will give her my very humble greet­ yard. Ploermel was at that time the centre
 366 TH E ST R A N D M AG A ZIN E.

of British power in mid-Brittany, as Hen- a swarm of soldiers crow'ded round to

nebon was in the west, and it was held by embrace their comrades, and to lead them off
a garrison of five hundred men under an where they might feed and make merry
old soldier, Richard of Bambro’, a rugged together.
Northumbrian, trained in that great school Supper had been set in the hall of
of warriors, the Border wars. He who had Ploermel, wherein the knights and squires
ridden the marches of the most troubled assembled. Bambro’ and Croquart were
frontier in Europe and served his time there with Sir Hugh Calverley, an old friend
against the Liddesdale and Nithsdale raiders of Knolles and a fellow-townsman, for both
was hardened for a life in the field. Of late, were men of Chester. Sir Hugh was a
however, Bambro’ had been unable to under­ middle-sized, flaxen man, with hard grey eyes
take any enterprise, for his reinforcements and fierce, large-nosed face sliced across with
had failed him, and amid his following he the scar of a sword-cut. There, too, were
had but three English knights and seventy Geoffrey d’Ardaine, a young Breton seigneur ;
men. The rest were a mixed crew of Sir Thomas Belford, a burly, thick-set Mid­
Bretons, Hainaulters, and a few German land Englishman ; Sir Thomas Walton, whose
mercenary soldiers, brave men individually, surcoat of scarlet martlets showed that he
as those of that stock have ever been, but was of the Surrey Waltons; James Marshall
lacking interest in the cause, and bound and John Russell, young English squires ; and
together by no common tie of blood or the two brothers, Richard and Hugh Le
tradition. On the other hand, the sur­ Galliard, who were of Gascon blood. Besides
rounding castles, and especially that of these were several squires unknown to fame,
Josselin, were held by strong forces of and of the new’-comers, Sir Robert Knolles,
enthusiastic' Bretons, inflamed by a common Sir Thomas Percy, Nigel Loring, and two
patriotism and full of warlike ardour. Robert of other squires, Allington and Parsons. These
Beaumanoir, the fierce seneschal of the house were the company who gathered in the torch­
of Rohan, pushed constant forays and excur­ light round the table of the seneschal of
sions against Ploermel, so that town and castle Ploermel, and kept high revel with joyous
were both in daily dread of being surrounded hearts because they thought that much
and besieged. Several small parties of the honour and noble deeds lay before them.
English faction had been cut off and slain to But one sad face there was at the board,
a man, and so straitened were the others that and that belonged to him who sat at the
it was difficult for them to gather provisions head of it. Sir Richard Bambro’ sat with
from the country round. Such was the state his chin leaning upon his hand and his eyes
of Bambro’s garrison when, on that March downcast upon the cloth, whilst all round
evening, Knolles and his men streamed into him rose the merry clatter of voices, every­
the bailey-yard of the castle. one planning some fresh enterprise which
In the glare of the torches at the inner might now be attempted. Sir Robert Knolles
gate Bambro’ was waiting to receive them, a was for an immediate advance upon Josselin.
dry, hard, wizened man, small and fierce, Calverley thought that a raid might be made
with beady black eyes and quick, furtive into the south, where the main French power
ways. Beside him, a strange contrast, stood lay. Others spoke of an attack upon Vannes.
his squire, Croquart, a German, whose name To all these eager opinions Bambro’ listened
and fame as a man-at-arms were widespread, in a moody silence, which he broke at last
though, like Robert Knolles himself, he had by a fierce execration which drew a hushed
begun as a humble page. He was a very attention from the company.
tall man, with an enormous spread of “ Say no more, fair sirs,” he cried, “ for
shoulders, and a pair of huge hands with indeed your words are like so many stabs in
which he could crack a horse-shoe. He was my heart. All this and more we might indeed
slow and lethargic, save in moments of excite­ have done. But of a truth you are too late.”
ment, and his calm, blond face, his dreamy “ Too late ! ” cried Knolles. “ What mean
blue eyes, and his long, light hair gave him you, Richard ? ”
so gentle an appearance that none save those “ Alas that I should have to say it, but
who had seen him in his Berserk mood, you and all these fair soldiers might be back
raging, an iron giant, in the forefront of the in England once more for all the profit that
buttle, could ever guess how’ terrible a warrior I am like to have from your coming. Saw
he might be. Little knight and huge squire you a rider on a white horse ere you reached
stood together under the arch of the donjon the castle ? ”
and gave welcome to the new-comers, whilst “ Nay, I saw him not.”
 S/E N IG E L. 367

“ He came by the western road from “ Then admit them and bring them hither,
Hennebon. Would that he had broken his but double the guards and take all pre­
neck ere he came here. Not an hour ago caution against surprise.”
he left his message, and now hath ridden on Places were set at the farther end of the
to warn the garrison of Malestroit. A truce table for these most unexpected guests.
hath been proclaimed for a year betwixt the Presently the door was swung open and
French King and the English, and he who Croquart, with all form and courtesy, an­
breaks it forfeits life and estate.” nounced the two Bretons, who entered with
“ A truce ! ” Here was an end to all their the proud and lofty air of gallant warriors
fine dreams. They
looked blankly at
e a c h ot her all
round the table,
whi l st Cr o q u a r t
brought his great
fist down upon the
board until the
g l a s s e s r att l ed
again. Knolles sat
wi t h 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
de e d , 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 n o t “ ‘
a !’
t r u c e h e r e w as an f .v d to a i .l th e ir fin e d r ea m s .”

wont to be sum­
moned after once the portcullis is up,” said and high-bred gentlemen. Beaumanoir was
he. “ Truce or no truce, we must let no a tall, dark man with raven hair and long,
man within our walls until we have proved swarthy beard. He was strong and straight
him. Croquart, see to i t ! ” as a young oak, with fiery black eyes, and no
The huge German left the room. The flaw in his comely features save that his
company were still seated in despondent front teeth had been dashed from their
silence when he returned. sockets. His squire, William of Montaubon,
“ Sir Richard,” said he, “ the brave knight, was also tall, with a thin, hatchet face, and
Robert of Beaumanoir, and his squire, two small grey eyes set very close upon
William de Montaubon, are without the gate, either side of a long, fierce nose. In
and would fain have speech with you.” Beaumanoir’s expression one read only
Bambro’ started in his chair. What could gallantry and frankness ; in Montaubon’s
the fierce leader of the Bretons, a man who there was gallantry also, but it was mixed
was red to the elbow with English blood, with the cruelty and cunning of the wolf.
have to say to them ? On what errand had They bowed as they entered, and the little
he left his castle of Josselin to pay this visit English seneschal advanced with outstretched
to his deadly enemies? hand to meet them.
“ Are they armed ? ” he asked. “ Welcome, Robert, so long as you are
“ They are unarmed.” beneath this roof,” said he. “ Perhaps the
 3 r,8 THE STR A N D M AG AZIN E.

time may come in another place when we bickering betwixt me, for example, and this
may sj>eak to each other in another fashion.” young squire, whose eyes show that he is very
“ So I hope, Richard,” said Beaumanoir. eager for honour, and if thereafter others on
“ But, indeed, we of Josselin bear you in each side join in and fight upon the quarrel,
high esteem, and are much beholden to you it is in no sense war, but rather our own
and to your men for all that you have done private business, which no King can alter.”
for us. We could not wish better neighbours, “ Indeed, Robert,” said Bambro’, “ all that
nor any from whom more honour is to be you say is very good and fair.”
gained. I learn that Sir Robert Knolles and Beaumanoir leaned forward towards Nigel,
others have joined you, and we are heavy- his brimming glass in his hand.
hearted to think that the orders of our Kings “ Your name, squire ? ” said he.
should debar us from attempting a venture.” “ My name is Nigel Loring.”
He and his squire sat down at the places set “ I see that you are young and eager, so I
for them, and, filling their glasses, drank to choose you as I would fain have been chosen
the company. when I was of your age.”
“ What you say is true, Robert,” said “ I thank you, fair sir,” said Nigel. “ It is
Bambro’, “ and before you came we were great honour that one so famous as yourself
discussing the matter among ourselves and should condescend to do some small deed
grieving that it should be so. When heard upon me.”
you of the truce ? ” “ But we must have cause for quarrel, Nigel.
“ Yester evening a messenger rode from Now, here I drink to the ladies of Brittany,
Nantes.” who of all ladies upon this earth are the most
“ Our news came to-night from Hennebon. fair and the most virtuous, so that the least
The King's own seal was on the order. So worthy amongst them is far above the best o f
I fear that for a year, at least, you will bide England. What say you to that, young sir ? ”
at Josselin and we at Ploermel, and kill time Nigel dipped his finger in his glass and,
as we may. Perchance we may hunt the leaning over, he placed its wet impress on
wolf together in the great forest, or fly our the Breton’s hand.
hawks on the banks of the I)uc.” “ This in yo” r face ! ” said he.
“ Doubtless we shall do all this, Richard,” Beaumanoir swept off the red drop o f
said Beaumanoir, “ but, by St. Cadoc! it is in moisture and smiled his approval.
my mind that with good will upon both sides “ It could not have been better done,”
we may please ourselves and yet stand ex­ said he. “ Why spoil my velvet paltock, as
cused before our Kings.” many a hot-headed fool would have done ?
Knights and squires leaned forward in It is in my mind, young sir, that you will go
their chairs, their eager eyes fixed upon him. far. And now, who follows up this quarrel ? ”
He broke into a gap-toothed smile as he A growl ran round the table. Beaumanoir
looked round at the circle, the wizened ran his eyes round and shook his head.
seneschal, the blond giant, Nigel’s fresh “ Alas ! ” said he, “ there are but twenty of
young face, the grim features of Knolles, and you here, and I have thirty at Josselin who
the yellow, hawk-like Calverley, all burning are so eager to advance themselves that if I
with the same desire. return without hope for all of them there will
“ I see that I need not doubt the good be sore hearts amongst them. I pray you,
will,” said he, “ and of that I was very certain Richard, since we have been at these pains
before I came upon this errand. Bethink to arrange matters, that you in turn will do
you, then, that this order applies to war but what you may. Can you not find ten more
not to challenges, spear-runnings, knightly men ? ”
exchanges, or the like? King Edward is too “ But not of gentle blood.”
good a knight, and so is King John, that “ Nay, it matters not, if they will only
either of them should stand in the way of a fight.”
gentleman who desires to advance himself or “ Of that there can be no doubt, for the
to venture his body for the exaltation of his castle is full of archers and men-at-arms, who
lady. Is this not so ? ” would gladly play a part in the matter.”
A murmur of eager assent arose from the “ Then choose ten," said Beaumanoir.
table. But for the first time the wolf-like squire
“ If you, as the garrison of Ploermel, march opened his thin lips.
upon the garrison of Josselin, then it is very “ Surely, my lord, you wiH not allow
plain that we have broken the truce, and upon archers ? ” said he.
our heads be it. But if there be a private “ I fear not any man.”
 SIR N IG EL. 369
shall not have a
place.”
“ But, fair sir, of
all the lances of
Brittany------”
“ Nay, William,
I will not have it
an hour later. T o­
morrow it shall be,
Richard.”
“ And where ? ”
“ I marked a fit­
ting place even as I
rode here this even­
ing. If you cross
the river and take
the b r i d l e - p a t h
through the fields
which leads to Jos-
selin you come mid­
way upon a mighty
oak which stands 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
“ N I G K L D I P P E D HIS F I N G E R IN H IS G L A S S A N D , L E A N I N G O V E R ,
gentlemen have doubtless brought them. To
H E P L A C E D I T £ W E T I M P R E S S ON T H E B R E T O N * S H A N D . " some of us, perchance, it is the last night, so
we would make it a full one.”
half of us would be down before ever we But the gallant Breton shook his head.
came to handstrokes.” “ It may indeed be the last night for
“ By St. Cadoc ! William, I think that you many,” said he, “ and it is but right that my
are right,” cried the Breton. “ If we are comrades should know it. I have no need
to have such a fight as will remain in the of monk or friar, for I cannot think that
memories of men you will bring no archers harm will ever come beyond the grave to one
and we no cross-bows. Let it be steel upon who has borne himself as a knight should ;
steel. How say you, then ? ’’ but others have other thoughts upon these
“ Surely we can bring ten men-at-arms to matters, and would fain have time for prayer
make up the thirty that you desire, Robert ? and penitence. Adieu, fair sirs, and I drink
It is agreed, then, that we fight on no quarrel a last glass to a happy meeting at the midway
of England and France, but over this matter oak.” ---------
of the ladies, in which you and Squire Loring C H A P T E R X X III.
have fallen out. And now the time ? ” HOW T H IR T Y OK JO S S E L IN EN C O U N TER E D
“ At once.” T H IR T Y OF PL O ER M EL.
“ Surely at once, or perchance a second A ll night the castle of Ploermel rang with
messenger may come and this also be for­ warlike preparations, for the smiths were
bidden. We will be ready with to-morrow’s hammering, and filing, and riveting, preparing
sunrise.” the armour of the champions. In the stable-
“ Nay, a day later,” cried the Breton squire. yard ostlers were testing and grooming the
“ Bethink you, my lord, that the three lances great war-horses, whilst in the chapel knights
of Radenac would take time to come over.” and squires were easing their souls at the
“ They are not of our garrison, and they knees of old Father Benedict. Down in the
Vol. xxxii.—47.
 37° TH E STR A N D M A G A ZIN E .

men of Ploermel rode forth

from their castle gate and
crossed the bridge of the Due.
In front was Bambro’ with his
squire Croquart 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 Calverley, whose
banner bore a silver owl, fol­
lowed by the massive Belford,
who carried a huge iron club,
weighing sixty pounds, upon
his saddle-bow, and Sir Thomas
Walton, the knight of Surrey.
Behind them were four brave
Anglo - Bretons — Perrot de
Co mme l a i n , L e Ga i l l a r t ,
D’Aspremont, and D’Ardaine,
who fought against their own
countrymen because they were
partisans of the Countess of
“ in t h e ch a pel k n ig h t s an d sq u ir e s w er e ea sin g t h e ir souls a t Montfort. Her engrailed silver
t h e
K N E E S OF OLD F A T H E R BEN ED IC T."
cross upon a blue field was
carried at their head. In the
courtyard, meanwhile, the men-at-arms had rear were five German or Hainault mer­
been assembled, and the volunteers weeded cenaries, the tall Hulbitee, and the men-
out until the best men had been selected. at-arms. Altogether, of these combatants
Black Simon had obtained a place, and great twenty were of English birth, four were
was the joy which shone upon his grim Breton, and six were of German blood. So,
visage. With him were chosen young with glitter of armour and flaunting of
Nicholas Dags worth, a gentleman adventurer, pennons, their war-horses tossing and pawing,
who was nephew to the famous Sir Thom as; the champions rode down to the midway
Walter, the German ; Hulbitee, a huge oak. Behind them streamed hundreds of
peasant whose massive frame gave promise archers and men-at-arms, whose weapons had
which his sluggish spirit failed to fulfil; John been wisely taken from them lest a general
Alcock, Robin Adey, and Raoul Provost. battle should ensue. With them also went
These, with three others, made up the the townsfolk, men and women, together
required thirty. Great was the grumbling with wine-sellers, provision merchants,
and evil the talk amongst the archers when armourers, grooms, and heralds, with sur­
it was learned that none of them were to geons to tend the wounded and priests to
be included, but the bow had been forbidden shrive the dying. The path was blocked by
on either side. It is true that many of them this throng, but all over the face of the
were expert fighters both with axe and with country horsemen and footmen, gentle and
sword, but they were unused to carry heavy simple, men and women, could be seen
armour, and a half-armed man would have speeding their way to the scene of the
short shrift in such a hand-to-hand struggle encounter.
as lay before them. The journey was not a long one, for
It was two hours after tierce, or one hour presently, as they threaded their way through
before noon, on the fourth Wednesday of the fields, there appeared before them a great
Lent in the year of Christ 1351 , that the grey oak which spread its gnarled, leafless
 SIR N IG E L . 37i

branches over the corner of a green and Josselin, which lies, as I understand, beyond
level meadow. The tree was black with the those woods. I see no sign of this debonair
peasants who had climbed into it, and all gentleman and of his following. It would be
round it was a huge throng, chattering and indeed grievous pity if any cause came to
calling like a rookery at sunset. A storm of hold them back.”
hooting broke out from them at the ap­ Hugh Calverley laughed at the words.
proach of the English, for Bambro’ was “ You need have no fear, young sir,” said
hated in the country, where he raised money he. “ Such a spirit lies in Robert de
for the Montfort cause by putting every Beaumanoir that if he must come alone he
parish to ransom and maltreating those who would ride against us none the less. I
refused to pay. There was little amenity in warrant that if he were on a bed of death
the warlike ways which had been learned he would be borne here and die on the
upon the Scottish border. The champions green field.”
rode onward without deigning to take notice “ You say truly, Hugh,” said Bambro’.
of the taunts of the rabble, but the archers “ I know him and those who ride behind
turned that way and soon beat the mob into him. Thirty stouter men or more skilled
silence. Then they resolved themselves into in arms are not to be found in Christendom.
the keepers of the ground, and pressed the It is in my mind that, come what may,
people back until they formed a dense line there will be much honour for all of us
along the edge of the field, leaving the whole this day. Ever in my head I have a
space clear for the warriors. rhyme which the wife of a Welsh archer gave
The Breton champions had not yet arrived, me when I crossed her hand with a golden
so the English tethered their horses at one bracelet after the intaking of Bergerac. She
side of the ground and then gathered round was of the old blood of Merlin, with the
their leader. Every man had his shield slung power of sight. Thus she said :—
round his neck, and had cut his spear to the ’Twixt the oak tree and the river
length of five feet, so that it might be more Knightly fame and brave endeavour
Make an honoured name for ever.
manageable for fighting on foot. Besides
the spear, a sword or a battle-axe hung at the Methinks I see the oak tree, and yonder is
side of each. They were clad from head to the river. Surely this should betide some
foot in armour, with devices upon their crests good to us.”
and surcoats to distinguish them from their The huge German squire betrayed some
antagonists. At present their visors were impatience during this speech of his leader.
still up and they chatted gaily with each Though his rank was subordinate, no man
other. present had more experience of warfare or
“ By St. Dunstan ! ” cried Percy, slapping was more famous as a fighter than he. He
his gauntleted hands together and stamping now broke brusquely into the talk.
his steel feet, “ I shall be right glad to get “ We would be better employed in order­
to work, for my^blood is chilled.” ing our line and making our plans than in
“ I warrant you will be warm enough ere talking of the rhymes of Merlin, or such old
you get through,” said Calverley. wives’ tales,” said he. “ It is to our own
“ Or cold for ever. Candle shall burn and strong arms and good weapons that we must
bell toll at Alnwick Chapel if I leave this trust this day. And first I would ask you,
ground alive. But come what may, fair sirs, Sir Richard, what is your will if perchance
it should be a famous joust and one which you should fall in the midst of the fight?”
will help us forward. Surely each of us will Bambro’ turned to the others.
have worshipfully won worship if we chance “ If such should be the case, fair sirs, I
to come through.” desire that my squire Croquart should
“ You say truth, Thomas,” said Knolles, command.”
bracing his girdle. “ For my own part I have There was a pause while the knights
no joy in such encounters when there is looked with some chagrin at each other.
warfare to be carried out, for it standeth not The silence was broken by Knolles.
aright that a man should think of his own “ I will do what you say, Richard,” said
pleasure and advancement rather than of the he, “ though indeed it is bitter that we who
King’s cause and the weal of the army. But are knights should serve beneath a squire.
in times of truce I can think of no better way Yet it is not for us to fall out among our­
in which a day may be profitably spent. selves now at this last moment, and I have
Why so silent, Nigel ? ” ever heard that Croquart is a very worthy and
“ Indeed, fair sir, I was looking towards valiant man. Therefore, 1 will pledge you on
 372 TH E STRAND M A G A ZIN E .

jeopardy of my soul that I will accept him as wood, but as they arrived the champions
leader if you fall.” picketed their horses on the farther side,
“ So will I also, Richard,” said Calverley. behind which their banner was planted, and
“ And I too ! ” cried Belford. “ But the people lined up until they had enclosed
surely I hear music, and yonder are their the whole lists with a dense wall of spectators.
pennons amid the trees.” With keen eyes the English party had
They all turned, leaning upon their short watched the armorial blazonry of their
spears, and watched the advance of the men antagonists, for those fluttering pennons and
of Josselin, as their troop wound its way brilliant surcoats carried a language which all
out from the woodlands. In front rode men could read. In front was the banner of
three heralds with tabards of the ermine of Beaumanoir, blue with silver frets. His

Brittany, blowing loudly upon silver trumpets. motto— “ J ’ayme qui m’aym e”— was carried
Behind them a great man upon a white horse on a second flag by a little page.
bore the banner of Josselin, which carries “ Whose is the shield behind him—silver
nine golden torteaux upon a scarlet field. with scarlet drops?” asked Knolles.
Then came the champions, riding two and “ It is his squire, William of Montaubon,”
two, fifteen knights and fifteen squires, each Calverley answered. “ And there are the
with his pennon displayed. Behind them, golden lion of Rochefort and the silver cross
on a litter, was borne an aged priest, the of Dubois the Strong. I would not wish to
Bishop of Rennes, carrying in his hands the meet a better company than are before us
viaticum and the holy oils, that he might give this day. See, there are the blue rings of
the last aid and comfort of the Church to young Tintiniac, who slew my squire Hubert
those who were dying. The procession was last Lammastide. With the aid of St. George
terminated by hundreds of men and women I will avenge him ere nightfall.”
from Josselin, Guegon, and Helleon, and by “ By the three Kings of Almain,” growled
the entire garrison of the fortress, who came, Croquart, “ we will need to fight hard this
as the English had done, without their arms. day, for never have I seen so many good
The head of this long column had reached soldiers gathered together. Yonder is Yves
the field before the rear were clear of the Cheruel, whom they call the man of iron;
 SIR N IG E L. 373
Caro de Bodegat also, with whom I have our ranks this day. And yet we are all men
had more than one bickering— that is he of blood and coat-armour, who are ready to
with the three ermine circles on the scarlet venture our persons for the desire of our
shield. There, too, is left-handed Alain de ladies and the love of the high order of
Keranais; bear in mind that his stroke knighthood. And now, Richard, what is
comes on the side where there is no shield.” your sweet will concerning this fight ? ”
“ Who is the small, stout man ? ” asked “ That we continue until one or other can
Nigel. “ He with the black and silver endure no longer, for since it is seldom that
shield. By St. Paul ! he seems a very so many brave men draw together it is fitting
worthy person, and one from whom much that we see as much as is possible of each
might be gained, for he is nigh as broad as other.”
he is long.” “ Richard, your words are fair and good.
“ It is Sir Robert Raguenal,” said Calver- It shall be even as you say. For the rest
ley, whose long spell of service in Brittany each shall fight as pleases him best from the
had made him familiar with the people. “ It time that the herald calls the word. If any
is said that he can lift a horse upon his back. man from without shall break in upon us be
Beware a full stroke of that steel mace, for shall be hanged on yonder oak.”
the armour is not made that can abide it. With a salute he drew down his visor and
But here is the good Beaumanoir, and surely returned to his own men, who were kneeling
it is time that we came to grips.” in a twinkling, many-coloured group whilst
The Breton leader had marshalled his the old bishop gave them his blessing.
men in a line opposite to the English, and The heralds rode round with a warning to
now he strode forward and shook Bambro’ the spectators. Then they halted at the side
by the hand.
“ By St. 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
B a m b r o ’, “ we
owe you much
thanks, for I can
see that you have
b e e n at g r e a t
pains to bring a
worthy company
agai nst us this
day. Surely, if all
should chance to
perish, there will
be f ew n o b l e
houses in Brittany
who wi l l not
mourn.”
“ Nay, we have
none of the high­
est of Brittany,”
Beaumanoir an­
swered. “ Neither
a B l o i s , nor a
Leon, nor a
R o h a n , nor a
Conan fights in “ TH£ OLP BISHOP G A V E T H E M H IS B L E S S I N G , ”
 374 TH E ST R A N D M A G A ZIN E .

ing upon t he i r
anvils. Then the
babel of yells and
shouts from the
spectators, cheer­
ing 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
very few moments
all order had been
lost and the two
bands were mixed
up in one furious,
scrambling, clatter­
ing throng, each
man tossed hither
and thither, thrown
against one adver­
sary and t he n
agai nst a no t h e r ,
beaten and hustled
and buffeted, with
o n l y the o n e
t hought in h i s
mi nd to t hr u s t
with his spear or
to beat with his
axe against any­
one who c a m e
within the narrow
slit of vision left
by his visor. But,
alas for Nigel and
his hopes of some
*‘ lN a VERY FEW MOMENTS ALL ORDER HAD BEEN LOST AND T H E TWO BANDS W ERE M IXED g r e a t d e e d ! H lS
UP IN O N E F U K I O U S , S C R A M B L I N G , C L A T T E R I N G T H R O N G . " W 3 .S clt lC clS t tile

fate of the brave,

of the two bands of men, who now stood in a for he was the first to fall. With a high heart
long line facing each other with fifty yards of he had placed himself in the line as nearly
grass between. The visors had been closed, opposite to Beaumanoir as he could, and had
and every man was now cased in metal from made straight for the Breton leader, remem­
head to foot, some few glowing in brass, the bering that in the outset the quarrel had been
greater number shining in steel. Only their so ordered that it lay between them. But ere
fierce eyes could be seen smouldering in the he could reach his goal he was caught in the
dark shadow of their helmets. So for an swirl of his own comrades and, being the
instant they stood glaring and crouching. lighter man, was swept aside and dashed into
Then with a loud cry of “ Allez ! ” the herald the arms of Alain de Keranais, the left-
dropped his upraised hand, and the two lines handed swordsman, with such a crash that
of men shuffled as fast as their heavy armour the two rolled upon the ground together.
would permit until they met with a sharp Light-footed as a cat, Nigel had sprung up
clang of metal in the middle of the field. first and was stooping over the Breton squire
There was a sound as of sixty smiths work- when the powerful dwarf, Raguenal, brought
 SIR N IG E L . 375
his mace thudding down upon the exposed visors and threw themselves down upon the
back of his helmet. With a groan Nigel fell grass, panting like weary dogs and wiping the
upon his face, blood gushing from his mouth, sweat from their bloodshot eyes. A pitcher
nose, and ears. There he lay, trampled over of wine of Anjou was carried round by a page
by either party, while that great fight for which and each in turn drained a cup, save only
his fiery soul had yearned was swaying back Beaumanoir, who kept his Lent with such
and forwards above his unconscious form. strictness that neither food nor drink might
But Nigel was not long unavenged. The pass his lips before sunset. He paced slowly
huge iron club of Belford struck the dwarf amongst his men, croaking forth encourage­
Raguenal to the ground, while Belford in ment from his parched lips and pointing out
turn was felled by a sweeping blow from to them that among the English there was
Beaumanoir. Sometimes a dozen were on scarce a man who was not wounded, and
the ground at one time, but so strong was the some so sorely that they could hardly stand.
armour, and so deftly was the force of a blow If the fight so far had gone against them,
broken by guard and shield, that the stricken there were still five hours of daylight, and
men were often pulled to their feet once more much might happen before the last of them
by their comrades, and were able to continue was laid upon his back.
the fight. Some, however, were beyond all Varlets had rushed forth to draw away the
aid. Croquart had cut at a Breton knight two dead Bretons, and a brace of English
named Jean Rousselot and had shorn away archers had carried Nigel from the field.
his shoulder-piece, exposing his neck and the With his own hands Aylward had unlaced
upper part of his arm. Vainly he tried to the crushed helmet and had wept to see
cover this vulnerable surface with his shield. the bloodless and unconscious face of his
It was his right side, and he could not young master. He still breathed, however,
stretch it far enough across, nor could he get and, stretched upon the grass by the river­
away on account of the press of men around side, the bowman tended him with rude
him. For a time he held his foemen at bay, surgery until the water upon his brow and the
but that bare patch of white shoulder was a wind upon his face had coaxed back the life
mark for every weapon, until at last a hatchet into his battered frame. He breathed with
sank up to the socket in the knight’s chest. heavy gasps, and some tinge of blood crept
Almost at the same moment a second back into his cheeks, but still he lay uncon­
Breton, a young squire named Geoffrey scious of the roar of the crowd and of that
Mellon, was slain by a thrust from Black great struggle which his comrades were now
Simon which found the weak spot waging once again.
beneath the armpit. Three other Bretons, The English had lain for a space bleeding
Yves Cheruel, Caro de Bodegat, and Tristan and breathless, in no better case than their
de Pestivien, the first two knights and the rivals, save that they were still twenty-nine
latter a squire, became separated from their in number. But of this muster there were
comrades, and were beaten to the ground not nine who were hale men, and some were
with English all around them, so that they so weak from loss of blood that they could
had to choose betwixt instant death and scarce keep standing. Yet, when the signal
surrender. They handed their swords to was at last given to re engage, there was not
Bambro’ and stood apart, each of them sorely a man upon either side who did not totter to
wounded, watching with hot and bitter hearts his feet and stagger forward towards his
the melee, which still surged up and down enemies.
the field. But the opening of this second phase of
But now the combat had lasted half an the combat brought one great misfortune
hour without stint or rest, until the warriors and discouragement to the English. Bambro’,
were so exhausted with the burden of their like the others, had undone his visor, but
armour, the loss of blood, the shock of blows, with his mind full of many cares he had
and their own furious exertions that they neglected to make it fast again. There was
could scarce totter or raise their weapons. an opening an inch broad betw’ixt it and the
There must be a pause if the combat were to beevor. As the two lines met the left-handed
have any decisive end. “ Cessez ! Cessez ! Breton squire, Alain de Keranais, caught
Retirez ! ” cried the heralds, as they spurred sight of Bambro’s face, and in an instant
their horses between the exhausted men. thrust his short spear through the opening.
Slowly the gallant Beaumanoir led the The English leader gave a cry of pain and fell
twenty-five men who were left to their on his knees, but staggered to his feet again,
original station, where they opened their too weak to raise his shield. As he stood
 376 TH E S TEA H E M A G A ZIN E .

exposed the Breton knight, Geoffrey Dubois word ‘ dishonour’ been breathed with m y
the Strong, struck him such a blow with his name, but I should count myself faineant if
axe that he beat in the whole breastplate I did not fight beside my comrades when
with the breast behind it. Bambro’ fell dead chance has made it right and proper that I
upon the ground, and for a few minutes a should do so.”
fierce fight raged round his body. Then the “ By St. Cadoc ! he speaks truly,” said
English drew back, sullen and dogged, bear­ 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 be­
come released.”
There was no answer
to this, and Knolles,
weary and spent, re­
turned to his com ­
rades.
“ 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
armour showed how
manfully he had borne
himself in the fray.
“ And now, comrades,
do not be h e a v y -
hearted because we
have lost our leader.
Indeed, his rhymes of
Merlin have availed
him little. But, by
“ as H E STOOL) E X P O S E D T H E R R K T O N K N I G H T , G E O F F R E Y D U B O IS T H E S T R O N G , S T R U C K H I M . ”
the three Kings of
Almain, I can teach
ing Bambro’ with them, and the Bretons, you what is better than an old woman’s pro­
breathing hard, gathered again in their own phecies, and that is that you should keep your
quarter. At the same instant the three shoulders together and your shields so close
prisoners picked up such weapons as were that none can break between them. Then
scattered upon the grass, and ran over to join you will know what is on either side of you,
their own party. and you can fix your eyes upon the front.
“ Nay, nay,” cried Knolles, raising his Also, if any be so weak or wounded that he
visor and advancing. “ This may not be. must sink his hands, his comrades on right
You have been held to mercy when we and left can bear him up. Now advance all
might have slain you, and by the Virgin I together in God’s name, for the battle is still
will hold you dishonoured, all three, if you ours if we bear ourselves like men.”
stand not back.” In a solid line the English advanced, while
“ Say not so, Robert Knolles,” Yves the Bretons ran forward as before to meet
Gheruel answered. “ Never yet has the them. The swiftest of these was a certain
 SIR N IG E L . 377

squire, Geoffrey Poulart, who bore a helmet cried Dubois ; and the weary men all croaked
which was fashioned as a cock's head, with together in dreadful laughter.
high comb above and long, pointed beak in But now the English had learned from
front pierced with the breathing-holes. He experience, and under the guidance of
thrust with his sword at Calverley, but Belford, Croquart they fought no longer in a straight
who was the next in the line, raised his giant line, but in one so bent that at last it became
club and struck him a crushing blow from a circle. As the Bretons still pushed and
the side. He staggered, and then, pushing staggered against it they thrust it back on
forth from the crowd, he ran round and every side, until they had turned it into the
round in circles as one whose brain is most dangerous formation of all, a solid
stricken, the blood dripping from the holes block of men, their faces turned outwards,
o f his brazen beak. So for a long time he their weapons bristling forth to meet every
ran, the crowd laughing and cock-crowing attack. Thus the English stood, and no
at the sight, until at last he stumbled and fell assault could move them. They could lean
stone-dead upon his face. But the fighters against each other back to back while they
had seen nothing of his fate, for desperate waited and allowed their foemen to tire
and unceasing were the rush of the Bretons themselves out. Again and again the gallant
and the steady advance of the English line. Bretons tried to make a way through. Again
For a time it seemed as if nothing would and again they were beaten back by a shower
break it, but gap toothed Beaumanoir was a of blows. Beaumanoir, his head giddy with
general. as well as a warrior. Whilst his fatigue, opened his helmet and gazed in
weary, bleeding, hard-breathing men still flung despair at this terrible, unbreakable circle.
themselves upon the front of the line, he Only too clearly he could see the inevitable
himself, with Raguenal, Tintiniac, Alain de result. His men were wearing themselves
Keranais, and Dubois, rushed round the out. Already many of them could scarce
flank and attacked the English with fury from stir hand or foot, and might be dead for any
behind. There was a long and desperate aid which they could give him in winning the
melee, until once more the heralds, seeing the fight. Soon all would be in the same plight.
combatants stand gasping and unable to strike Then these cursed English would break their
a blow, rode in and called yet another circle, to swarm over his helpless men and to
interval of truce. But in those few minutes, strike them down. Do what he might, he
whilst they had been assaulted upon both could see no way by which such an end
sides, the losses of the English party had might be prevented. He cast his eyes round
been heavy. The Anglo-Breton, D’Ardaine, in his agony, and there was one of his
had fallen before Beaumanoir’s sword, but Bretons slinking away to the side of the lists.
not before he had cut deeply into his enemy’s H e could scarce credit his senses when he
shoulder. Sir Thomas Walton, Richard of saw by the scarlet and silver that the deserter
Ireland, one of the squires, and Hulbit^e, the was his own well-tried squire, William of
big peasant, had all fallen before the mace of Montaubon.
the dwarf Raguenal or the swords of his “ William! W illiam !” he cried. “ Surely
companions. Some twenty men were still you would not leave me ! ”
left standing upon either side, but all were But the other’s helmet was closed and he
in the last state of exhaustion, gasping, could hear nothing. Beaumanoir saw that
reeling, hardly capable of striking a blow. he was staggering away as swiftly as he could.
It was strange to see them as they staggered With a cry of bitter despair he drew into a
with many a lurch and stumble towards knot as many of his braves as could still
each other once again, for they moved move, and together they made a last rush
like drunken men, and the scales of their upon the English spears. This time he was
neck-armour and joints were as red as firmly resolved, deep in his gallant soul, that
fishes’ gills when they raised them. They he would come no foot back, but would find
left foul, wet foot-prints behind them his death there amongst his foemen or carve
on the green grass as they moved forward a path into the heart of their ranks. The
once more to their endless contest. Beau­ fire in his breast spread from man to man
manoir, faint with the drain of his blood of his followers, and amid the crashing
and with a tongue of leather, paused as he of blows they still locked themselves against
advanced. the English shields and drove hard for an
“ 1 am fainting, comrades ! ” he cried. opening in their ranks. But all was vain !
“ I must drink.” Beaumanoir’s head reeled. His senses were
“ Drink your own blood, Beaumanoir ! ” leaving him. In another minute he and his
Vol. xxxii.—48.
 378 THE STRAND M A G A Z IN E .

men would have been stretched senseless long prick spurs into its side. Those w h o
before this terrible circle of steel, when faced him saw this sudden and unexpected
suddenly the whole array fell in pieces before appearance. Time was when both horse a n d
his e ye s; his enemies, Croquart, Knolles, rider must have winced away from the show er
Calverley, Belford, all were stretched upon of their blows. But now they were in n o
the ground together, their weapons dashed state to meet such a rush. They co u ld
from their hands and their bodies too scarce raise their arms. Their blows w ere
exhausted to rise. The surviving Bretons too feeble to hurt this mighty creature. I n
had but strength to fall upon them, dagger a moment it had plunged through the ranks
in hands, and to wring from them their and seven of them were on the grass. I t
surrender with the sharp point stabbing turned and rushed through them again,
through their visors. Then victors and leaving five others helpless beneath its hoofs.
vanquished lay groaning and panting in one No need to do more. Already Beaumanoir
helpless and blood-smeared heap. and his companions were inside the circle,
T o Beaumanoir’s simple mind it had the prostrate men were helpless, and Jo sselin
seemed that at the supreme moment the had won.
saints of Brittany had risen at their country’s That night a train of crestfallen archers,
call. Already, as he lay gasping, his heart bearing many a prostrate figure, marched
was pouring forth sadly into Ploermel Castle. Behind them
its thanks to his rode ten men, all weary, all wounded, an d
patron St. Cadoc. all with burning hearts against William o f

“ THE V I C T O R S W E R E B O R N E I N ON T H E S H O U L D E R S O F A S H O U T I N G M O B . "

But the spectators had seen clearly enough Montaubon for the foul trick that he had
the earthly cause of this sudden victory, served them. But over at Josselin, yellow
and a hurricane of applause from one gorse-blossoms in their helmets, the victors
side, with a storm of hooting from the were borne in on the shoulders of a shouting
other, showed how different was the emotion mob, amid the fanfare of trumpets and the
which it raised in minds which sympathized beating of drums. Such was the combat of
with the victors or the vanquished. the midway oak, where brave men met
William of Montaubon, the cunning squire, brave men, and such honour was gained that
had made his way across to the spot where from that day he who had fought in the
the steeds were tethered and had mounted Battle of the Thirty was ever given the
his own great roussin. At first it was thought highest place and the post of honour; nor
that he was about to ride from the field, but was it easy for any man to pretend to have
the howl of execration from the Breton been there, for it has been said by that great
peasants changed suddenly to a yell of chronicler who knew them all that not one
applause and delight as he turned the beast’s on either side failed to carry to his grave the
head for the English circle and thrust his marks of that stern encounter.

(To be continued.)
“ T H E T H R E E M EN W E R E A T T E N T IV E L Y W A T C H IN G T H E D IS T A N T
FRENCH L IN E S .”

{S ee p a o c 494.)
 T he Strand M agazine.
Vol. xxxii. N O VEM BER, 1906. No. 191.

SIR NIGEL.
B y A . C O N A N D O Y L E .

CH APTER X X IV . Croquart, who proclaimed himself ever ready,

HOW N IG E L WAS C A L L E D TO H IS M A STER . night or day, to meet any man with any
Y sweet ladye,” wrote Nigel, weapon, it was only to find that in trying the
in a script which it would paces of his new horse the German had
take the eyes of love to read, been cast into a ditch and had broken his
“ there hath been a most neck. In the same ditch perished Nigel’s
noble meeting in the fourth last chance of soon accomplishing that deed
sennight of Lent betwixt which should free him from his vow.
some of our own people and sundry most There was truce once more over all
worthy persons of this country, which ended, Christendom and mankind was sated with
by the grace of our Lady, in so fine a joust war, so that only in far-off Prussia, where the
that no man living can call to mind so fair Teutonic knights waged ceaseless battle with
an occasion. Much honour was gained by the Lithuanian heathen, could he hope to
the Sieur de Beaumanoir and also by an find his heart’s desire. But money and high
Almain named Croquart, with whom I hope knightly fame were needed ere a man could
to have some speech when I am hale again, go upon the northern crusade, and ten years
for he is a most excellent person and very were yet to pass ere Nigel should look from the
ready to advance himself or to relieve another battlements of Marienberg on to the waters
from a vow. For myself I had hoped, with of the Frische HafT, or should endure the
Godde’s help, to venture that third small torture of the hot plate when bound to the
deed which might set me free to haste me Holy Woden stone of Memel. Meanwhile,
to your sweet side, but things have gone he chafed his burning soul out through the
awry with me, and I early met with long seasons of garrison life in Brittany,
such scathe and was of so small comfort broken only by one visit to the chateau of
to my friends that my heart is heavy within the father of Raoul, when he carried to
me, and in sooth I feel that I have lost the Lord of Grosbois the news of how
honour rather than gained it. Here I have his son had fallen like a gallant gentleman
lain since the Feast of the Virgin, and under the gateway of I^a Brohinifere.
here I am like still to be, for I can move And then, then at last, when all hope was
no limb, save only my hand ; but grieve not, well-nigh dead in his heart, there came one
sweet ladye, for St. Catherine hath been our glorious July morning which brought a horse­
friend, since in so short a time I had two man bearing a letter to the Castle of Vannes,
such ventures as the Red Ferret and the of which Nigel was now seneschal. It con­
intaking of the riever’s fortalice. It needs tained but few words, short and clear as the
but one more deed, and sickerly when I am call of a war-trumpet. It was Chandos w1 io
hale once more it will not be long ere I seek wrote. He needed his squire at his side, for
it out. Till then, if my eyen may not rest his pennon was in the breeze once more.
upon you, my heart at least is ever at thy feet.” He was at Bordeaux. The Prince was start­
So he wrote from his sick-room in the ing at once for Bergerac, whence he would
Castle of Ploermel late in the summer, but make a great raid into France. It would not
yet another summer had come before his end without a battle. They had sent word
crushed head had mended and his wasted of their coming, and the good French King
limbs had gained their strength once more. had promised to be at great pains to receive
With despair he heard of the breaking of the them. Let Nigel hasten at once. If the
truce, and of the fight at Mauron in which army had left, then let him follow after with
Sir Robert Knolles and Sir Walter Bentley all speed. Chandos had three other squires,
crushed the rising power of Brittany—a fight but would very gladly see his fourth once
in which many of the thirty champions of again, for he had heard much of him since
Josselin met their end. Then, when with they parted, and nothing which he might not
renewed strength and high hopes in his heart have expected to hear of his father’s son.
he went forth to search for the famous Such was the letter which made the summer
Vol. xxxii.—61, Copyright, 1906, by A . Conan Doyle, in the United States of America,
 484 THE STRAND M AG A ZIN E.

sun shine brighter and the blue sky seem of where was he ? A la s! two years before he
a still fairer blue upon that happy afternoon and the whole of Knolles’s company of archers
in Vannes. had been drafted away on the King’s service
It is a weary way from Vannes to Bordeaux. to Guienne, and since he could not write the
Coastwise ships are hard to find, and winds squire knew not whether he was alive or
blow north when all brave hearts would fain dead. Simon, indeed, had thrice heard of
be speeding south. A full month had passed him from wandering archers, each time that
from the day when Nigel received his letter he was alive and well and newly-married, but
before he stood upon the quay side of the as the wife in one case was a fair maid, and
Garonne, amid the stacked barrels of Gascon in another a dark, while in the third she was
wine, and helped to lead Pommers down the a French widow, it was hard to know the
gang-planks. Not Ayhvard himself had a truth.
worse opinion of the sea than the great 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 pass­
ing 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 pfovinces
in France, both rich and
warlike, had become English
through a Royal marriage,
and these, Guienne and Gas­
cony, furnished many of the
most valiant soldiers under
the island flag. So poor a
country as England could
not afford to keep a great
5r force overseas, and so must
yellow horse, and he whinnied with joy needs have lost the war with France
as he thrust his muzzle into his master’s through want of power to uphold the struggle.
outstretched hand and stamped his ring­ The feudal system enabled an army to be
ing hoofs upon the good firm cobble­ drawn rapidly together with small expense,
stones. Beside him, slapping his tawny but at the end of a few weeks it dispersed
shoulder in encouragement, was the lean, again as swiftly, and only by a well-filled
spare form of Black Simon, who had remained money-chest could it be held together.
ever under Nigel’s pennon. But Aylward, There was no such chest in England, and
 SIR N IG E L . 485

the K in g was for

ever at his wits’ e n d
h o w to k eep his
men in the field. “ W IT H S A D F A C E S A N D L O N G IN G E V E S T H E Y W A T C H E D T I I E fA S S I N G OK T H E P L U S D E R - L A D E S a K T S . "
But Guienne and
Gascony were full of knights and squires, Prince, all unconscious of its presence, sacked
who were always ready to assemble from towns and besieged castles from Bourges to
their isolated castles for a raid into France, Issodun, passing Romorantin, and so onwards
and these, with the addition of those to Vierzon and to Tours. From week to
English cavaliers who fought for honour, week there were merry skirmishes at barriers,
and a few thousand of the formidable brisk assaults of fortresses in which much
archers, hired for fourpence a day, made an honour was won, knightly meetings with
army with which a short campaign could be detached parties of Frenchmen, and occa­
carried on. Such were the materials of the sional spear runnings where noble champions
Prince’s force, some eight thousand strong, deigned to venture their persons. Flouses,
who were now riding in a great circle through too, were to be plundered, while wine and
Southern France, leaving a broad weal of women were in plenty. Never had either
blackened and ruined country behind them. knights or archers had so pleasant and profit­
But France, even with her south-western able an excursion, so that it was with high
corner in English hands, was still a very war­ heart and much hope of pleasant days at
like power, far richer and more populous Bordeaux, with their pockets full of money,
than her rival. Single provinces were so that the army turned south from the Loire
great that they were stronger than many a and began to retrace its steps to the sea­
kingdom. Normandy in the north, Bur­ board city.
gundy in the east, Brittany in the west, and But now its pleasant and martial promenade
Languedoc in the south were each capable of changed suddenly to very serious work of war.
fitting out a great army of their own. There­ As the Prince moved south he found that
fore the brave and spirited John, watching all supplies had been cleared away from in
from Paris this insolent raid into his front of him, and that there was neither
dominions, sent messengers in hot haste to fodder for the horses nor food for the men.
all these great feudatories as well as to Two hundred wagons laden with spoil rolled
Loraine, Picardy, Auvergne, Hainault, Ver- at the head of the army, but the starving
mandois, Champagne, and to the German soldiers would soon have gladly changed it
mercenaries over his eastern border, bidding all for as many loads of bread and of meat.
all of them to ride hard, with bloody spur, The light troops of the French had preceded
day and night, until they should gather to a them and burned or destroyed everything that
head at Chartres. There a great army had could be of use. Now also, for the first
assembled early in September, whilst the time, the Prince and his men became aware
 486 TH E ST R A N D M A G A ZIN E .

that a great army was moving upon the failed them, and who had therefore been left
eastern side of them, streaming southwards behind on the advance, but were now hasten­
in the hope of cutting off their retreat to the ing to be in time for the impending battle.
sea. The sky glowed with their fires at A crowd of peasant girls accompanied them
night, and the autumn sun twinkled and upon their march, and a whole train of laden
gleamed from one end of the horizon to the mules were led beside them.
other u[x>n the steel caps and flashing Nigel and his little troop of men-at-arms
weapons of a mighty host. Anxious to were riding past the archers when Black
secure his plunder, and conscious that the Simon, with a sudden exclamation, touched
levies of France were far superior in number his leader upon the arm.
to his own force, the Prince redoubled his “ See yonder, fair sir,” he cried, with
attempts to escape, but his horses were gleaming eyes, “ there where the wastrel
exhausted and his starving men were hardly walks with the great fardel upon his back !
to be kept in order. A few more days would Who is he who marches behind him ? ”
unfit them for battle. Therefore, when he Nigel looked and was aware of a stunted
found, near the village of Maupertuis, a peasant who bore upon his rounded back an
position in which a small force might have a enormous bundle very much larger than him­
chance to hold its own, he gave up the self. Behind him walked a burly, broad-
attempt to outmarch his pursuers, and he shouldered archer, whose stained jerkin and
turned at bay like a hunted boar, all tusks battered head-piece gave token of long and
and eyes of flame. hard service. His bow was slung over his
Whilst these high events had been in shoulder, and his arms were round the waists
progress Nigel, with Black Simon and four of two buxom Frenchwomen, who tripped
other men-at-arms from Bordeaux, was along beside him with much laughter and
hastening northwards to join the army. So many saucy answers flung back over their
far as Bergerac they were in a friendly land, shoulders to a score of admirers behind them.
but thence onwards they rode over a “ Aylward ! ” cried Nigel, spurring forward.
blackened landscape with many a roofless The archer turned his bronzed face, stared
house, its two bare gable - ends sticking for an instant with wild eyes, and then,
upwards—a “ Knolles’s mitre,” as it was dropping his two ladies, who were instantly
afterwards called when Sir Robert worked carried off by his comrades,
his stern will upon the country. For three he rushed to seize the hand
days they rode northwards, seeing many which his young master held
small parties of French in all direc­ down to him.
tions, but too eager to reach the army
to ease their march in
search of adventures. Then
at last, after passing Lusig-
nan, they began to come
in touch with English
foragers, mounted bowmen
for the most part, who were
endeavouring to collect
supplies either for the army
or for themselves. From
them Nigel learned that
the Prince, with Chandos
ever at his side, was hasten­
ing 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
 SIR N IG E L . 487

“ Now, by my hilt, Squire Nigel, this is be seen assembled upon the bank. They
the fairest sight of my lifetime,” he cried. were the steeds of the French cavalry, and
“ And you, old leather-face ! Nay, Simon, the blue haze of a hundred fires showed
I would put my arms around your dried where King John’s men were camping. In
herring of a body if I could but reach you. front of the mound upon which they stood
Here is Pommers, too, and I read in his eye the English line was drawn, but there were
that he knows me well, and is as ready to few fires, for indeed, save their horses, there
put his teeth into me as when he stood in was little for them to cook. Their right
my father’s stall.” rested upon the river, and their array stretched
It was like a whiff of the heather-perfumed across a mile of ground until the left was in
breezes of Hankley to see his homely face touch with a tangled forest which guarded it
once more. Nigel laughed with sheer joy as from flank attack. In front was a long, thick
he looked at him. hedge and much broken ground, with a single,
“ It was an ill day when the King’s service deeply-rutted country road cutting through it
called you from my side,” said he, “ and, by in the middle. Under the hedge and along
St. Paul, I am right glad to set eyes upon the whole front of the position lay swarms
you once more ! I see well that you are in of archers upon the grass, the greater
no wise altered, but the same Aylward that number slumbering peacefully with sprawling
I have ever known. But who is this varlet limbs in the warm rays of the September
with the great bundle who waits upon your sun. Behind were the quarters of the
movements ?” various knights, and from end to end flew
“ It is no less than a feather bed, fair sir, the banners and pennons marked with the
which he bears upon his back, for I would devices of the chivalry of England and
fain bring it to Tilford, and yet it is over-large Guienne. With a glow in his heart Nigel
for me when I take my place with my fellows saw those badges of famous captains and
in the ranks. But, indeed, this war has been leaders and knew that now at last he also
a most excellent one, and I have already might show his coat-armour in such noble
sent half a wagon-load of my gear back to company. There was the flag of Jean Grailly,
Bordeaux to await my home-coming. Yet I the Captal de Buch, five silver shells on a
have my fears when I think of all the rascal black cross, which marked the presence of
foot-archers who are waiting there, for some the most famous soldier of Gascony; while
folk have no grace or honesty in their souls beside it waved the red lion of the noble
and cannot keep their hands from that which knight of Hainault, Sir Eustace d’Ambreti-
belongs to another. But if I may throw my court. These two coats Nigel knew, as did
leg over yonder spare horse I will come on every warrior in Europe, but a dense grove of
with you, fair sir, for indeed it would be joy pennoned lances surrounded them bearing
to my heart to know that I was riding under charges which were strange to him, from
your banner once again.” which he understood that these belonged to the
So Aylward, having given instructions to Guienne division of the army. Farther down
the bearer of his feather-bed, rode away in the line the famous English ensigns floated on
spite of shrill protests from his French com­ the wind—the scarlet and gold of Warwick,
panions, who speedily consoled themselves the silver star of Oxford, the golden cross of
with those of his comrades who seemed to Suffolk, the blue and gold of Willoughby, and
have most to give. Nigel’s party was soon the gold-fretted scarlet of Audley. In the
clear of the column of archers and riding very centre of them all was one which caused
hard in the direction of the Prince’s army. all others to pass from his mind, for close to
They passed by a narrow and winding track the Royal banner of England, crossed with
through the great wood of Nouaille, and the label of the Prince, there waved the war­
found before them a marshy valley down worn flag with the red wedge upon the
which ran a sluggish stream. Along its golden field which marked the quarters of
farther bank hundreds of horses were being the noble Chandos.
watered, and beyond was a dense block of At the sight Nigel set spurs to his horse,
wagons. Through these the comrades passed, and a few minutes later had reached the spot.
and then topped a small mound from which Chandos, gaunt from hunger and want of
the whole strange scene lay spread before sleep, but with the old fire lurking in his eye,
them. was standing by the Prince’s tent, gazing
Down the valley the slow stream meandered down at what could be seen of the French
with marshy meadows on either side. A mile array, and heavy with thought. Nigel sprang
or two lower a huge drove of horses were to from his horse and was within touch of his
 488 TH E ST R A N D M A G A ZIN E .

master, when the silken hanging of the Royal all that we have taken, remit all ransoms,
tent was torn violently aside and Edward and surrender my own person with that of a
rushed out. He was without his armour, and hundred nobles of England and Guienne to
clad in a sober suit of black, but the high be held as prisoners. What think you,
dignity of his bearing and the imperious John?”
anger which flushed his face proclaimed the Chandos smiled.
leader and the Prince. At his heels was a “ Things are not done in that fashion,”
little white-haired ecclesiastic in a flowing said he.
gown of scarlet sendall, expostulating and “ But, my Lord Chandos,” cried the
arguing in a torrent of words. Cardinal, “ I have made it clear to the Prince
“ Not another word, my Lord Cardinal! ” that indeed it is a scandal to all Christen­
cried the angry Prince. “ I have listened to dom, and a cause of mocking to the heathen,
you over-long, and, by God’s dignity, that that two great sons of the Church should
which you say is neither good nor fair in my turn their swords thus upon each other.”
ears. Hark you, John, I would have your “ Then bid the King of France keep clear
counsel. What, think you, is the message of us,” said the Prince.
which my Lord Cardinal of Perigord has “ Fair son, you are aware that you are in
carried from the King of France? He says the heart of his country, and that it standeth
that of his clemency he will let my army pass not aright that he should suffer you to go
back to Bordeaux if we will restore to him 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 have
much fear that when I wel­
comed 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 and 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.
“ ‘ N O T A N O T H E R WO RD , M Y L O R D C A R D I N A L , ’ C R I E D T H E A N G R Y PR IN C E." Hark hither, young s i r ! I
 S IE N IG E L . 489

have been saying to your uncle the Cardinal that we had two thousand more archers. But
that it is in my mind that you and your I doubt not that we shall give them much
comrades have carried news of our disposi­ trouble ere they drive us out from amidst
tions to the French King. How say you ? " these hedges. Have you seen the French ? ”
The knight turned pale and sank his eyes. “ Nay, fair sir, I have but this moment
“ My lord,” he murmured, “ it may be arrived.”
that 1 have answered some questions.” “ I was about to ride forth myself to coast
“ And how will such answers accord with their army and observe their countenance, so
your honour, seeing that we have trusted you come with me ere the night fall, and we
since you came in the train of the Cardinal ? ” shall see what we can of their order and
“ My lord, it is true that I am in the train dispositions.”
of the Cardinal, and yet I am liege man of There was a truce betwixt the two forces
King John and a knight of France, so I for the day on account of the ill-advised
pray you to assuage your wrath against me.” and useless interposition of the Cardinal of
The Prince ground his teeth, and his Perigord. Hence, when Chandos and Nigel
piercing eyes blazed upon the youth. had pushed their horses through the long
“ By my father’s soul I can scarce forbear to hedge which fronted the position, they found
strike you to the earth ! But this I promise that many small parties of the knights of
you, that if you show that sign of the red either army were riding up and down on the
griffon in the field, and if you be taken alive plain outside. The greater number of these
in to-morrow’s battle, your head shall most groups were French, since it was very neces­
assuredly be shorn from your shoulders.” sary for them to know as much as possible
“ Fair son, indeed you speak wildly,” cried of the English defences, and many of their
the Cardinal. “ I pledge you my word that scouts had ridden up to within a hundred
neither my nephew Robert nor any of my yards of the hedge, where they were sternly
train will take part in the battle. And now ordered back by the pickets of archers on
I leave you, sire, and may God assoil your guard. Through these scattered knots of
soul, for indeed in all this world no men horsemen Chandos rode, and as many of
stand in greater peril than you and those them were old antagonists, it was “ Ha,
who are around you, and I rede you that John ! ” on the one side, and “ Ha, Raoul ! ”
you spend the night in such ghostly exer “ Ha, Nicholas ! ” “ Ha, Guichard ! ” upon
cises as may best prepare you for that which the other, as they brushed past them. Only
may befall.” So saying the Cardinal bowed, one cavalier greeted them amiss, a large, red­
and with his household walking behind him faced man, the Lord Clermont, who by some
set off for the spot where they had left strange chance bore upon his surcoat a blue
their horses, whence they rode to the neigh­ virgin standing amid golden sunbeams, which
bouring abbey. The angry Prince turned was the very device which Chandos had
upon his heel and entered his tent once more, donned for the day. The fiery Frenchman
whilst Chandos, glancing round, held out a dashed across their path and drew his steed
warm welcoming hand to Nigel. back on to its haunches.
“ I have heard much of your noble deeds,” “ How long is it, my Lord Chandos,” said
said he. “ Already your name rises as a he, hotly, “ since you have taken it upon
squire-errant. I stood no higher, nor as high, yourself to wear my arms ? ”
at your age.” Chandos smiled. “ It is surely you who
Nigel flushed with pride and pleasure. have mine,” said he, “ since this surcoat was
“ Indeed, my dear lord, it is very little that worked for me by the good nuns of Windsor
I have done. But now that I am back at a long year ago.”
your side I hope that in truth I shall learn to “ If it were not for the truce,” said Cler­
bear myself in worthy fashion, for where else mont, “ I would soon show you that you
should I win honour if it be not under your have no right to wear it.”
banner ? ” “ Look for it, then, in the battle to-morrow,
“ Truly, Nigel, you have come at a very and I also will look for yours,” Chandos
good time for advancement. I cannot see answered. “ There we can very honourably
how we can leave this spot without a great settle the matter.”
battle which will live in men’s minds for ever. But the Frenchman was choleric and hard
In all our fights in France I cannot call to to appease.
mind any in which they have been so strong “ You English can invent nothing,” said
or we so weak as now, so that there will be he, “ and you take for your own whatever
the more honour to be gained. I would you see handsome belonging to others.” So,
Vol. xxxii.—62.
 49° THE STR A N D M AGAZIN E.

round the flanks he

went, keeping ever
w ith in cross-bow
shot of the army ;
and then at last,
having noted all
things in his mind,
he t u r n e d h is
horse’s head and
rode slowly back,
tL . ^ta a gj/rWf i swT-Mi \ heavy with thought,
WW Jr A | to the English lines.
./A WmSSrn. A F | b / tMfa
CH A PTER XXV.
HOW T H E K IN G OK
FRANCE HELD
A C O U N C IL AT
M V U PERTU IS.
T he morning of
Sunday, the 19th
of September, in
the year of our
Lord 1356, was
cold and fine. A
haze which rose
from the marshy
THE F1EKV FRENCHM AN D A S H K O AC R O S S T H E I R P A T H A N D D R E W H IS S T E E D P A C K
ON T O I T S H A U N C H E S . " valley of Muisson
c o v e re d both
grumbling and fuming, he rode upon his camps and set the starving Englishmen
way, while Chandos, laughing gaily, spurred shivering, but it cleared slowly away as the
onwards across the plain. sun rose. In the red silken pavilion of the
The immediate front of the English line French King—the same which had been
was shrouded with scattered trees and bushes viewed by Nigel and Chandos on the evening
which hid the enemy, but when they had before—a solemn mass was held by the
cleared these a fair view of the groat French Bishop of Chalons, who prayed for those who
army lay before them. In the centre of the were about to die, with little thought in his
huge camp was a long and high pavilion of mind that his own last hour was so near at
red silk, with the silver lilies of the King at hand. Then, when Communion had been
one end of it and the golden oriflamme, the taken by the King and his four young sons,
battle flag of old France, at the other. Like the altar was cleared away, and a great red-
the reeds of a pool from side to side of the covered table placed lengthwise down the
broad array, and dwindling away as far as tent, round which John might assemble his
their eyes could see, were the banners and council and determine how best he should
pennons of high barons and famous knights, proceed. With the silken roof, rich tapestries
but above them all flew the ducal standards of Arras round the walls, and Eastern rugs
which showed that the feudal muster of all beneath the feet, his palace could furnish no
the warlike provinces of France was in the fairer chamber.
field before them. With a kindling eye King John, who sat upon the canopied
Chandos looked across at the proud ensigns dais at the upper end, was now in the sixth
of Normandy, of Burgundy, of Auvergne, of year of his reign and the thirty-sixth of his
Champagne, of Vermandois, and of Berry, life. He was a short, burly man, ruddy-faced
flaunting and gleaming in the rays of the and deep-chested, with dark, kindly eyes and
sinking sun. Riding slowfly down the line a most noble bearing. It did not need the
he marked with attentive gaze the camp of blue cloak sewn with silver lilies to mark him
the cross-bowmen, the muster of the German as the King. Though his reign had been
mercenaries, the numbers of the foot soldiers, short his fame was already widespread over
the arms of every proud vassal or vavasour all Europe as a kindly gentleman and a fear­
which might give some guide as to the power less soldier — a fit leader for a chivalrous
of each division. From wing to wing and nation. His elder son, the Duke of
 SIR N IG EL. 4 91

Normandy, still hardly more than a boy, of the table were a line of proud and
stood beside him, his hand upon the King’s warlike lords, Fiennes, Chatillon, Nesle, de
shoulder, and John half turned from time to Landas, de Beaujeu, with the fierce knight
time to fondle him. On the right, at the errant, de Chargny, he who had planned the
same high dais, was the King’s younger surprise of Calais, and Eustace de Ribeau-
brother, the Duke of Orleans, a pale, heavy- mont, who had, upon the same occasion,
featured young man, with a languid manner won the prize of valour from the hands of
and intolerant eyes. On the left was the Edward of England. Such were the chiefs
Duke of Bourbon, sad-faced and absorbed, to whom the King now turned for assistance
with that gentle melancholy in his eyes and and advice.
bearing which comes often with the pre­ “ You have already heard, my friends,”
monition of death. All these were in their said he, “ that the Prince of W'ales has made
armour, save only for their helmets, which no answer to the proposal which we sent by
lay upon the board before them. the Ixird Cardinal of Perigord. Certes, this
Below, grouped around the long red table, is as it should be, and though 1 have obeyed
was an assembly of the most famous warriors the call of Holy Church I had no fears that
in Europe. At the end nearest the King so excellent a Prince as Edward of England
was the veteran soldier the Duke of Athens, would refuse to meet us in battle. I am now
son of a banished father, and now High of opinion that we should fall upon them at
Constable of France. On one side of him once, lest perchance the Cardinal’s cross
sat the red-faced and choleric Lord Cler­ should again come betwixt our swords and
mont, with the same blue virgin in golden our enemies.”
rays upon his surcoat which had caused his A buzz of joyful assent arose from the
quarrel with Chandos the night before. On meeting, and even from the attendant men-
the other was a noble featured, grizzly-haired at-arms who guarded the door. When it
soldier, Arnold d’Andreghen, who shared had died away the Duke of Orleans rose in
with Clermont the honour of being Marshal his place beside the King.
of France. Next to them sat Lord James of “ Sire,” said he, “ you speak as we would
Bourbon, a brave warrior who was afterwards have you d o ; and I, for one, am of opinion
slain by the White Company at Brignais, and that the Cardinal of Perigord has been an
beside him a
^ ~- v
o f G erm an
noblemen, in­
clu d in g the
Earl of Salz­
burg and the
Earl of Nas­
sau, who had
ridden over
the frontier
with their for­
midable mer­
c e n a rie s at
the bidding of
the F re n ch
K i n g . The
ridged armour
and the hang­
ing nasals of
their bassinets
were enough
in themselves
to tell every
so ld ie r that
t h e y were
from beyond
the Rhine. At G R O U P E D A R O U N D T H E T A B L E W AS
A N A S S E M B L Y OK THF- M O S T F A M O U S
the other side W A R R I O R S IN E U R O P E , ”
 492 TH E STRAND M A G A Z IN E .

ill friend to France, for why should we from our fingers when we have them here
bargain for a part when we have but to hold and are fourfold their number? I know not
out our hand in order to grasp the whole? where we should dwell afterwards, for I am
What need is there for words ? Let us well sure that we should be ashamed to ride
spring to horse forthwith and ride over this back to Paris, or to look our ladies in the
handful of marauders who have dared to lay eyes again.”
waste your fair dominions. I f one of them “ Indeed, Eustace, you have done well to
go hence save as our prisoner we are the say what is in your mind,” said the King,
more to blame.” “ but I have already said that we shall join
“ By St. Denis, brother,” said the King, battle this morning, so that there is no room
smiling, “ if words could slay you would here for further talk. But I would fain have
have had them all upon their backs ere ever heard from you how it would be wisest and
we left Chartres. You are new to war, but best that we attack them ? ”
when you have had experience of a stricken “ I will advise you, sire, to the best of my
field or two you will know that things power. Upon their right is a river with
must be done with forethought and in order, marshes around it, and upon their left a great
or they may go awry. In our father’s time wood, so that we can only advance upon the
we sprang to horse and spurred upon these centre. Along their front is a thick hedge,
English at Crecy and elsewhere as you advise, and behind it I saw the green and russet
but we had little profit from it, and now we jerkins of their archers, as thick as the sedges
are grown wiser. How say you, Sieur de by a river. It is broken by one road where
Ribeaumont? You have coasted their lines only four horsemen could ride abreast, which
and observed their countenance. Would you leads through the position. It is clear, then,
ride down upon them, as my brother has that if we are to drive them back we must
advised, or how would you order the cross the great hedge, and I am very sure
matter ? ” that the horses will not face it with such a
De Ribeaumont, a tall, dark-eyed, hand­ storm of arrows beating from behind it.
some man, paused ere he answered. Therefore it is my counsel that we fight upon
“ Sire,” he said, at last, “ I have indeed foot, as the English did at Cr£cy, for indeed
ridden along their front and down their flanks, we may find that our horses will be more
in company with Lord Landas and Lord de hindrance than help to us this day.”
Beaujeu, who are here at your council to “ The same thought was in my own mind,
witness to what I say. Indeed, sire, it is in sire,” said Arnold d’Andreghen, the veteran
my mind that though the English are few in Marshal. “ At Cr£cy the bravest had to turn
number, yet they are in such a position their backs, for what can a man do with a
amongst these hedges and vines that you horse which is mad with pain and fear? If
would be well advised if you were to leave we advance upon foot we are our own
them alone, for they have no food and must masters, and if we stop the shame is ours.”
retreat, so that you will be able to follow “ The counsel is good,” said the Duke of
them and to fight them to better advantage.” Athens, turning his shrewd, wizened face to
A murmur of disapproval arose from the the King, “ but one thing only I would add
company, and the Lord Clermont, Marshal to it. The strength of these people lies in
of the army, sprang to his feet, his face red their archers, and if we could throw them
with anger. into disorder, were it only for a short time,
“ Eustace, Eustace,” said he, “ I bear in we should win the hedge. Else they will
mind the days when you were of great heart shoot so strongly that we must lose many
and high enterprise, but since King Edward men before we reach it, for indeed we have
gave you yonder chaplet of pearls you have learned that no armour will keep out their
ever been backward against the English.” shafts when they are close.”
“ My Ixird Clermont,” said de Ribeau­ “ Your words, fair sir, are both good and
mont, sternly, “ it is not for me to brawl at wise,” said the King, “ but I pray you to tell
the King’s council and in face of the enemy, us how you would throw these archers into
but we will go further into this matter at disorder ? ”
some other time. Meanwhile the King has “ I would choose three hundred horsemen,
asked me for my advice, and I have given it sire, the best and most forward in the army.
as best I might.” With these I would ride up the narrow road,
“ It had been better for your honour, Sir and so turn to right and left, falling upon the
Eustace, had you held your peace,” said the archers behind the hedge. It may be that
Duke of Orleans. “ Shall we let them slip the three hundred would suffer sorely, but
 SIR N IG E L . 493

what are they among so great a host, if a road of no consequence who fight upon their
may be cleared for their companions ? ” feet.”
“ I would say a word to that, sire,” cried The Lord Clermont was leaning angrily
the German Count of Nassau. “ 1 have come forward with some hot reply when King John
here with my comrades to venture our intervened.
persons in your quarrel, but we claim the “ Enough ! enough ! ” he said. “ It is for
right to fight in our own fashion, and we you to give your opinions and for me to tell
would count it dishonour to dismount from you what you will do. Lord Clermont, and
our steeds out of fear of the arrows of the you, Arnold, you will choose three hundred
English. Therefore, with your permission, of the bravest cavaliers in the army and you
we will ride to the front, as the Duke of will endeavour to break these archers. As to
Athens has advised, and so clear a path for you and your Germans, my Lord Nassau,
the rest of you.” you will remain upon horseback, since you
“ This may not be,” cried the Lord desire it, and you will follow the Marshals
Clermont, angrily. “ It would be strange and support them as best you may. The
indeed if French­
men 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 Roca-
madour you will
learn before night
fall that it is not
so. It is for me,
who am a Marshal
of France, to lead
these three hun­
dred, since it is an
honourable ven­
ture.”
“ And I claim
the same right for
the same reason,”
said A r n ol d of
Andreghen.
T h e Ger man
Count struck the
table w i t h h i s
mailed fist.
“ Do what you
li k e ,” said he.
“ But this only I
can promise y o u :
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 “ LORD C L E R M O N T W AS L E A N IN G A N G R IL Y FORW ARD W H EN K IN G JO H N IN T E R V E N E D ."
t h e
 494 TH E STRAND M A G A ZIN E .

rest of the army will advance upon foot in them whilst they cross the ford it will be to
three other divisions as arranged: yours, our advantage. Now, fair sirs, I pray you to
Charles”— and he patted his son, the Duke hasten to your posts and to carry out all that
of Normandy, affectionately upon the hand— we have agreed. Advance the oriflamme,
“ yours, Philip ”■—he glanced at the Duke of Geoffrey, and do you marshal the divisions,
Orleans— “ and the main battle, which is my Arnold. So may God and St. Denis have
own. To you, Geoffrey de Chargny, I en­ us in their holy keeping this day.”
trust the oriflamme this day. But who is
this knight, and what does he desire?” The Prince of Wales stood upon that little
A young knight, ruddy-bearded and tall, a knoll where Nigel had halted the day before.
red griffen upon his surcoat, had appeared in Beside him were Chandos and a tall, sun­
the opening of the tent. His flushed face burned warrior of middle age, the Gascon
and dishevelled dress showed that he had Captal de Buch. The three men were all
come in haste. attentively watching the distant French lines,
“ Sire,” said he, “ I am Robert de Duras, whilst behind them a column of wagons
of the household of the Cardinal de Perigord. wound down to the ford of the Muisson.
I told you yesterday all that I had learned Close in the rear four knights in full
of the English camp. This morning I was armour with open visors sat their horses and
again admitted to it, and I have seen conversed in undertones with each other.
their wagons moving to the rear. Sire, A glance at their shields would have given
they are in flight for Bordeaux.” their names to any soldier, for they were all
“ ’Fore God, 1 knew i t ! ” cried men of fame
the Duke of Orleans, in a voice of who had seen
fury. “ Whilst we have been talk much warfare.
ing they have slipped through our A t present
lingers. Did I not warn you ? ” t hey were
“ Be silent, P h ilip !” said the awaiting their
King, angrily. “ But you, sir, have o rd e rs, for
you seen this with your own each of them
eyes ? ” com m a n d ed
“ With my own eyes, sire, and the whole or
1 have ridden straight from their part of a divi­
camp.” sion of the
King John looked at him army. The
with a stern youth upon
“ I know th e l e f t —
not how it dark, slim,
accords with and earnest—
your honour was William
to carry such Montacute,
tid ings in Earl of Salis­
such a fash- bury, only
ion,” said he, twenty - eight
“ but: we can- years of age
not ch oos e and yet a
b u t take vete ran of
advantage of Crecy. How
i t. Fear high he stood
not, brother in reputation
Phili p ; it is is shown by
in my mind the fact that
that you will the command
see all that of the rear,
you would the post of
wish of the honour in a
E n g lishmen r e t re a t i ng
before night- a r my , ha d
fall. Should been given to
S I R E , T H E Y A R E IN F L I G H T
we fall upon FOR BO RD EA U X .” him by the
 S/E N IG E L . 495

Prince. He was talking to a grizzled, harsh­ The famous knight - errant, pattern of
faced man, somewhat over middle age, with chivalry for all time, rose and turned his
lion features and fierce, light-blue eyes, which swarthy face and dark, earnest eyes upon his
gleamed as they watched the distant enemy. master.
It was the famous Robert de Ufford, Earl “ Sir,” said he, “ I have ever served most
of Suffolk, who had fought without a break loyally my lord your father and yourself,
from Cadsand onwards through the whole and shall continue so to do so long as I
Continental war. The other tall, silent have life. Dear sir, I must now acquaint
soldier, with the silver star gleaming upon you that formerly I made a vow if ever I
his surcoat, was John de Vere, Earl of should be in any battle under your command
Oxford, and he listened to the talk of that I would be foremost or die in the
Thomas Beauchamp, a burly, jovial, ruddy attempt. I beg, therefore, that you will
nobleman and a tried soldier, who leaned graciously permit me to honourably quit my
forward and tapped his mailed hand upon place among the others, that I may post
the other’s steel-clad thigh. They were old myself in such wise as to accomplish my
battle companions, of the same age and in vow.”
the very prime of life, with equal fame and The Prince smiled, for it was very sure
equal experience of the wars. Such was the that, vow or no vow, permission or no per
group of famous English soldiers who sat mission, Lord James Audley would still be
their horses behind the Prince and waited for in the van.
their orders. “ Go, Jam es,” said he, shaking his hand,
“ I would that you had laid hands upon “ and God grant that this day you may shine
him,” said the Prince, angrily, continuing his in valour above all knights. But hark, John,
conversation with Chandos, “ and yet, per­ what is that ? ”
chance, it was wiser to play this trick and Chandos cast up his fierce nose like the
make them think that we were retreating.” eagle which smells slaughter afar.
“ He has certainly carried the tidings,” said “ Surely, sir, all is forming even as we had
Chandos, with a smile. “ No sooner had the planned it.”
wagons started than I saw him gallop down From far away there came a thunderous
the edge of the wood.” shout. Then another and yet another.
“ It was well thought of, John,” the “ See, they are moving ! ” cried the Captal
Prince remarked, “ for it would indeed be de Buch.
great comfort if we could turn their own spy All morning they had watched the gleam
against them. Unless they advance upon us of the armed squadrons who were drawn up
I know not how we can hold out another in front of the French camp. Now, whilst
day, for there is not a loaf left in the army ; a great blare of trumpets was borne to their
and yet if we leave this position where shall ears, the distant masses flickered and twinkled
we hope to find such another ? ” in the sunlight.
“ They will stoop, fair sir ; they will stoop “ Yes, y e s; they are moving ! ” cried the
to our lure. Even now Robert de Duras will Prince.
be telling them that the wagons are on the “ They are moving! They are moving!”
move, and they will hasten to overtake us lest Down the line the murmur ran. And then
we pass the ford. But who is this who rides with a sudden impulse the archers at the
so fast ? Here, perchance, may be tidings.” hedge sprang to their feet and the knights
A horseman had spurred up to the knoll. behind them waved their weapons in the air,
He sprang from the saddle, and sank on one while one tremendous shout of warlike joy
knee before the Prince. carried their defiance to the approaching
“ How now, my Lord Audley ? ” said enemy. Then there fell such a silence that
Edward. “ What would you have ? ” the pawing of the horses or the jingle of
“ Sir,” said the knight, still kneeling with their harness struck loud upon the ear, until
bowed head before his leader, “ I have a amid the hush there rose a low, deep roar
boon to ask of you.” like the sound of the tide upon the beach,
“ Nay, James, rise ! Let me hear what I ever growing and deepening as the host of
can do.” France drew near.

( To be conchided.)
 SIR NIGEL.
B y A . C O N A N D O Y L E .
Copyright, 1906, by A. Conan Doyle, in the United States of America.

C H A P T E R XX VI . of bowmen amidst a running fire of rough

HOW N IG E L FOUND H IS T H IR D D EED . wit. Here and there a bow was thrust out
O U R archers lay behind a at him through the hedge for his professional
clump of bushes ten yards in advice.
front of the thick hedge which “ Wax your heads ! ” he kept crying.
shielded their companions. “ Pass down the wax-pot and wax your heads!
Amid the long line of bowmen A waxed arrow will pass where a dry will be
those behind them were their held. Tom Beverley, you jack-fool, where is
own company, and in the main the same your bracer-guard ? Your string will flay
who were with Knolles in Brittany. The your arm ere you reach your up-shot this day.
four in front were their leaders: old Wat of And you, Watkin, draw not to your mouth,
Carlisle, Ned Widdington, the redheaded as is your wont, but to your shoulder. You
Dalesman, the bald bowyer Bartholomew, are so used to the wine-pot that the string
and Samkin Aylward, newly rejoined after a must needs follow it. Nay, stand loose, and
week’s absence. All four were munching give space for your drawing arms, for they
bread and apples, for Aylward had brought will be on us anon.”
in a full haversack and divided them freely He ran back and joined his comrades in
amongst his starving comrades. The old the front, who had now risen to their feet.
Borderer and the Yorkshireman were gaunt Behind them a half-mile of archers stood
and hollow-eyed with privation, while the hidden by the hedge, each with his great war-
bowyer’s round face had fallen in so bow strung, half-adozen shafts loose beside
that the skin hung in loose pouches under him, and eighteen more in the quiver slung
his eyes and beneath his jaws. Behind across his front. With arrow on string, their
them lines of haggard, wolfish men feet firm-planted, their fierce, eager faces
glared through the underwood, silent and peering through the branches, they awaited
watchful save that they burst into a fierce the coming storm.
yelp of welcome when Chandos and Nigel The broad flood of steel, after oozing
galloped up, sprang from their horses, and slowly forward, had stopped about a mile
took their station beside them. All along from the English front. The greater part of
the green fringe of bowmen might be seen the army had then descended from their
the steel-clad figures of knights and squires horses, while a crowd of varlets and ostlers
who had pushed their way into the front led the steeds to the rear. The French formed
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 bald
bowyer.
“ Nay, nay, we
have heard that
story,” said old
Wat, impatiently.
“ Shut thy clap,
Bartholomew, for
it is no time for redeless gossip.
Walh. down the line, I pray you,
and see if there be no frayed string, nor
broken nock, nor loosened whipping to be
mended.” * 'HERE AND T H E R E A BOW W A S THRUST OUT AT HIM
The stout bowyer passed down the fringe FOR H IS P R O F E S S IO N A L A D V I C E ,”
Vol xxxii,—77•
 6io TH E STR A N D M AG AZIN E.

themselves now into three great divisions, stretched before them, all bathed in peaceful
which shimmered in the sun like silvery sunshine, and nothing, save those flickering,
pools, reed-capped with many a thousand of fitful gleams, to tell of the silent and lurking
banners and pennons. A space of several enemy who barred their way. But the bold
hundred yards divided each. At the same spirit of the French cavaliers rose the higher
time two bodies of horsemen formed them­ to the danger. The clamour of their war-cries
selves in front. The first consisted of three filled the air, and they tossed their pennoned
hundred men in one thick column, the spears over their heads in menace and
second of a thousand, riding in a more defiance. From the English line it was a
extended line. noble sight— the gallant pawing, curveting
The Prince had ridden up to the line of horses, the many-coloured twinkling riders,
archers. He was in dark armour, his visor the swoop and wave and toss of plume and
open, and his handsome aquiline face all banner. Then a bugle rang forth. With a
glowing with spirit and martial fire. The sudden yell every spur struck deep, every
bowmen yelled at him, and he waved his lance was laid in rest, and the whole gallant
hands to them as a huntsman cheers his squadron flew like a glittering thunderbolt
hounds. for the centre of the English line.
“ Well, John, what think you now?” he A hundred yards they had crossed, and
asked. “ What would my noble father not yet another hundred, but there was no move­
give to be by our side this day ? Have you ment in front of them and no sound save
seen that they have left their horses ? ” their own hoarse battle-cries and the thunder
“ Yes, my fair lord, they have learned of their horses. Ever swifter and swifter
their lesson,” said Chandos. “ Because we they flew. From behind the hedge it was a
have had good fortune upon our feet at vision of horses, white, bay, and black, their
Crecy and elsewhere they think that they necks stretched, their nostrils distended, their
have found the trick of it. But it is in bellies to the ground, whilst of the rider one
my mind that it is very different to stand could but see a shield with a plume-tufted
when you are assailed, as we have done, visor above it and a spear head twinkling in
and to assail others when you must drag your front. Then of a sudden the Prince raised
harness for a mile and come weary to the his hand and gave a cry. Chandos echoed
fray.” it, it swelled down the line, and with one
“ You speak wisely, John. But these mighty chorus of twanging strings and
horsemen who form in front and ride slowly hissing shafts the long-pent storm broke at
towards us, what make you of them ? ” last.
“ Doubtless they hope to cut the strings Alas for the noble steeds ! Alas for the
of our bowmen and so clear a way for the gallant men ! When the lust of battle is
others. But they are indeed a chosen band, over, who would not grieve to see that noble
for mark you, lair sir, are not those the squadron break into red ruin before the rain
colours of Clermont upon the left, and of of arrows beating upon the faces and breasts
d’Andreghen upon the right, so that both of the horses ? The front rank crashed
marshals ride with the vanguard ? ” down, and the others piled themselves upon
“ By God's soul, John ! ” cried the Prince, the top of them, unable to check their speed
“ it is very sure that you can see more with or to swerve aside from the terrible wall o f
one eye than any man in this army with two. their shattered comrades which had so sud­
But it is even as you say. And this larger denly sprung up before them. Fifteen feet
band behind ? ” high was that blood-spurting mound of
“ They should be Germans, fair sir, by the screaming, kicking horses and writhing,
fashion of their harness.” struggling men. Here and there on the
The two bodies of horsemen had moved flanks a horseman cleared himself and
slowly over the plain, with a space of nearly dashed for the hedge, only to have his
a quarter of a mile between them. Now, steed slain under him and to be hurled
having come two bowshots from the hostile from his saddle. Of all the three hundred
line, they halted. All that they could see gallant riders not one ever reached that
of the English was the long hedge, with an fatal hedge.
occasional twinkle of steel through its leafy But now', in a long, rolling wave of steel,
branches, and behind that the spear-heads of the German battalion roared swiftly onwrards.
the men-at-arms rising from amidst the brush­ They opened in the centre to pass that
wood and the vines. A lovely autumn country­ terrible mound of death, and then spurred
side, with changing, many tinted foliage, lay swiftly in upon the archers. They were
 SIR N IG EL. 611

broken in front of the

English position, leav­
ing this bloodstained
wreckage behind them,
the main divisions had
halted and made their
last pr eparations for
their own assault. They
had not yet begun their
advance, and the nearest
was still half a mile dis­
tant, when the few sur­
vivors from the forlorn
hope, their maddened
horses bristling with
arrows, flew past them
on either flank. At the
same moment the Eng­
lish archers and men-at-
arms dashed through
the hedge and dragged
all who were living out
of that tangled heap of
brave men, well led, and in shattered horses and
their open lines they could men.
avoid the clubbing together W ITH O N E M IG H T Y CHORUS O F TW ANGING It was a mad, wild
S T R IN G S A N D H ISSIN G S H A F T S T H E L O N G -PEN T
which had been the ruin STORM B R O K E A T L A S T .” rush, for in a f e w
of the vanguard; yet they minutes the fight must
perished singly even as the others had be renewed, and yet there was a rich harvest
perished together. A few were slain by the of wealth for the lucky man who could pick
arrows. The greater number had their a wealthy prisoner from amid the crowd.
horses killed under them, and were so shaken The nobler spirits disdained to think of
and shattered by the fall that they could not ransoms whilst the fight was still unsettled,
raise their limbs, overweighted with iron, but a swarm of needy soldiers, Gascons and
from the spot where they lay. Three men English, dragged the wounded out by the leg
riding together broke through the bushes or the arm, and with daggers at their throats
which sheltered the leaders of the archers, demanded their names, title, and means.
cut down Widdington the Dalesman, spurred He who had made a good prize hurried him
onwards through the hedge, dashed over the to the rear, where his own servants could
bowmen behind it, and made for the Prince. guard him, while he who was disappointed
One fell with an arrow through his head, a too often drove the dagger home and then
second was beaten from his saddle by rushed once more into the tangle in the hope
Chandos, and the third was slain by the of better luck. Clermont, with an arrow
Prince’s own hand. A second band broke through the sky-blue virgin on his surcoat,
through near the river, but were cut lay dead within ten paces of the hedge.
off by Lord Audley and his squires, D’Andreghen was dragged by a penniless
so that all were slain. A single horse­ squire from under a horse and became his
man whose steed was mad with pain, prisoner. The Earls of Salzburg and of
an arrow in its eye and a second in its Nassau were both found helpless on the
nostril, sprang over the hedge and clattered ground and taken to the rear. Aylward
through the whole army, disappearing amid cast his thick arms round Count Otto
whoops and laughter into the woods behind. von I^angenback, and laid him, helpless
But none others won as far as the hedge. from a broken leg, behind his bush.
The whole front of the position was fringed Black Simon had made prize of Bernard,
with a litter of German wounded or dead, Count of Ventadour, and hurried him through
while one great heap in the centre marked the hedge. Everywhere there were rushing
the downfall of the gallant French three and shouting, brawling and buffeting, while
hundred. amidst it all a swarm of archers were seeking
W h ilst these tw o w aves o f the attack h a d their shafts, plucking them from the dead.
 6l 2 TH E ST R A N D M A G A ZIN E .

and sometimes even from the wounded. upon the flank of the French poured their
Then there was a sudden cry of warning. arrows into them. At the same moment
In a moment every man was back in his Chandos, with Audley, Nigel, Bartholomew
place once more, and the line of the hedge Berghersh, the Captal de Buch, and a score
was clear. of other knights, sprang upon their horses,
It was high time, for already the first and charging down the narrow lane rode
division of the French was close upon them. over the French line in front of them. Once
If the charge of the horsemen had been through it they spurred to left and right,
terrible from its rush and its fire, this steady trampling down the dismounted men-at-arms.
advance of a huge phalanx of armoured foot­ A fearsome sight was Pommers that day, his
men was even more fearsome to the spectator. red eyes rolling, his nostrils gaping, his
They moved very slowly, on account of the tawny mane tossing, and his savage teeth
weight of their armour, but their progress gnashing in fury, as he tore and smashed
was the more regular and inexorable. and ground beneath his ramping hoofs all
With elbows touching, their shields slung that came before him. Fearsome too was
in front, their short five-foot spears carried the rider, ice-cool, alert, concentrated of
in their right hands, and their maces purpose, with heart of fire and muscles of
or swords ready at their belts, the deep steel. A very angel of battle he seemed
column of men at-arms moved onwards. as he drove his maddened horse through
Again the storm of arrows
beat upon them, clinking
and thudding on the
armour. They crouched
double behind their
shields as they met it.
Many fell, but still the
slow tide lapped onwards.
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 axe or mace
upon the other. In many
parts the hedge was
pierced or levelled to the
ground, and the French
men at-arms were raging
amongst the archers, hack­
ing 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 bow­
men was thrown out from
“ A V E R Y a n g k i. of .
ba t tu e hf seem ed as h e h is m a d d e n e d HORSE
drove
the battle-line, and forming T H R O U G H T H E T H I C K E S T OF T H E P R E S S , ”
 SLA N IG E L. 613

the thickest of the press; but, strive as he the Prince, beseeching that he would allow
would, the tall figure of his master upon his them to ride forth.
coal-black steed was ever half a length before “ See this insolent fellow who bears three
him. Already the moment of danger was martlets upon a field gules! ” cried Sir
passed. The French line had given back. Maurice Berkeley. “ He stands betwixt the
Those who had pierced the hedge had fallen two armies as though he had no dread
like brave men amid the ranks of their foe- of us.”
men. The division of Warwick had hurried “ I pray you, sir, that I may ride out to
up from the vineyards to fill the gaps of him, since he seems ready to attempt some
Salisbury’s battle - line. Back rolled the small deed,” pleaded Nigel.
shining tide, slowly at first, even as it had “ Nay, fair sirs, it is an evil thing that we
advanced, but quicker now as the bolder fell should break our line, seeing that we still
and the weaker shredded out and shuffled have much to do,” said the Prince. “ See,
with ungainly speed for a place of safety. he rides away, and so the matter is settled.”
Again there was a rush from behind the “ Nay, fair Prince,” said the young knight
hedge. Again there was a reaping of that who had spoken first. “ My grey horse,
strange crop of bearded arrows which grew Lebryte, could run him down ere he could
so thick upon the ground, and again the reach shelter. Never since I left Severn
wounded prisoners were seized and dragged side have I seen steed so fleet as mine.
in brutal haste to the rear. Then the line Shall I not show yo u ? ” In an instant he
was restored, and the English, weary, pant­ had spurred the charger and was speeding
ing, and shaken, awaited the next attack. across the plain.
But a great good fortune had come to The Frenchman, John de Helennes, a
them—so great that as they looked down the squire of Picardy, had waited with a burn­
valley they could scarce credit their own ing heart, his soul sick at the flight of the
senses. Behind the division of the Dauphin, division in which he had ridden. In the
which had pressed them so hard, stood a hope of doing some redeeming exploit or
second division hardly less numerous, led by of meeting his own death he had loitered
the Duke of Orleans. The fugitives from in betwixt the armies, but no movement had
front, blood-smeared and bedraggled, blinded come from the English lines. Now he had
with sweat and with fear, rushed amidst its turned his horse’s head to join the King’s
ranks in their flight, and in a moment, with­ array, when the low drumming of hoofs
out a blow being struck, had carried them off sounded behind him, and he turned to find
in their wild rout. This vast array, so solid a horseman hard upon his heels. Each had
and so martial, thawed suddenly away like a drawn his sword, and the two armies paused
snow-wreath in the sun. It was gone, and in to view the fight. In the first bout Sir
its place thousands of shining dots scattered Maurice Berkeley’s was struck from his
over the whole plain as each man made his hand, and as he sprang down to recover it
own way to the spot where he could find his the Frenchman ran him through the thigh,
horse and bear himself from the field. For dismounted from his horse, and received his
a moment it seemed that the battle was won, surrender. As the unfortunate Englishman
and a thunder-shout of joy pealed up from hobbled away at the side of his captor a roar
the English line. But as the curtain of the of laughter burst from both armies at the
Duke’s division was drawn away it was only spectacle.
to disclose, stretching far behind it and span­ “ By my ten finger-bones ! ” cried Aylward,
ning the valley from side to side, the magni­ chuckling behind the remains of his bush,
ficent array of the French King, solid, un­ “ he found more on his distaff that time
shaken, and preparing its ranks for the attack. than he knew how to spin. Who was the
Its numbers were as great as those of the knight ? ”
English army; it was unscathed by all that “ By his arms,” said old Wat, “ he should
was past, and it had a valiant monarch to either be a Berkeley of the West or a Popham
lead it to the charge. With the slow delibera­ of Kent.”
tion of the man who means to do or die, its “ I call to mind that I shot a match of six
leader marshalled its ranks for the supreme ends once with a Kentish woldsman------ ”
effort of the day. began the fat bowyer.
Meanwhile, during that brief moment of “ Nay, nay, stint thy talk, Bartholomew ! ”
exultation when the battle appeared to be cried old Wat. “ Here is poor Ned with his
won, a crowd of hot-headed young knights head cloven, and it would be more fitting if
and squires swarmed and clamoured round you were saying aves fpr his soul instead
 614 TH E STR A N D M A G A ZIN E .

of all this bohance and boasting. How most noble meeting,” said he. “ They will
now, Tom of Beverley?” not be ashamed of us in England. Take
“ We have suffered sorely in this last bout, heart, my friends, for if we conquer we shall
Wat. There are forty of our men upon their carry the glory ever with us ; but if we be
backs, and the Dean Foresters on the right slain then we die most worshipfully and in
are in worse case still.” high honour, as we have ever prayed that
“ Talking will not mend it, Tom, and if all we might die, and we leave behind us our
but one were on their backs he must still brothers and kinsmen, who will assuredly
hold his ground.” avenge us. It is but one more effort and
Whilst the archers were chatting the all will be well. Warwick, Oxford, Salisbury,
leaders of the army were in solemn conclave Suffolk — every man to the front! My
just behind them. Two divisions of the banner to the front also ! Your horses, fair
French had been repulsed, and yet there was sirs ! The archers are spent and our own
many an anxious face as the older knights good lances must win the field this day.
looked across the plain at the unbroken Advance, Walter, and may God and St.
array of the French King moving slowly George be with England ! ”
towards them. The line of the archers was Sir Walter W'oodland, riding a high black
much thinned and shredded. Many knights horse, took station by the Prince, with the
and squires had been disabled in the long Royal banner resting in a socket by his
and fierce combat at the hedge. Others, saddle. From all sides the knights and
exhausted by want of food, had no strength squires crowded in upon it, until they formed
left and were stretched panting upon the a great squadron containing the survivors of
ground. Some were engaged in carrying the the battalions of Warwick and Salisbury as
wounded to the rear and laying them under well as those of the Prince. Four hundred
the shelter of the trees, whilst others were men-at-arms who had been held in reserve
replacing their broken swords or lances from were brought up and thickened the array ;
the weapons of the slain. The Captal de but even so Chandos’s face was grave as he
Buch, brave and experienced as he was, scanned it and then turned his eyes upon
frowned darkly and whispered his misgivings the masses of the Frenchmen.
to Chandos. But the Prince’s courage flamed “ I like it not, fair sir. The weight is over
the higher as the shadow fell, while his dark great,” he whispered to the Prince.
eyes gleamed with a soldier’s pride as he “ How would you order it, John? Speak
glanced round him at his weary comrades what is in your mind.”
and then at the dense masses of the King’s “ We should attempt something upon their
battalions, which now, with a hundred trumpets flank whilst we hold them in front. How
blaring and a thousand pennons waving, say you, J e a n ? ” He turned to the Captal
rolled slowly over the plain. de Buch, whose dark, resolute face reflected
“ Come what may, John, this has been a the same misgivings.
 S/A‘ N IG E L. 6l5
“ Indeed, John, I think as you do,” said men whose very names are like blasts of a
he. “ The French King is a very valiant battle-trumpet — Beaujeus and Chatillons,
man, and so are those who are about him, Tancarvilles and Ventadours— pressed hard
and I know not how we may drive them behind the silver lilies. Slowly they moved at
hack unless we can do as you advise. If you first, walking their horses that they might be
will give me only a hundred men I will the fresher for the shock. Then they broke
attempt it.” into a trot which was quickening into a gallop
“ Surely the task is mine, fair sir, since the when the remains of the hedge in front of
thought has come from me ? ” said Chandos. them were beaten in an instant to the ground,
“ Nay, John, I would keep you at my side. and the broad line of the steel-clad chivalry
But you speak well, Jean, and you shall do of England swept grandly forth to the final
even as you have said. Go ask the Earl of shock. With loose rein and busy spur the
Oxford for a hundred men-at-arms and as two lines of horsemen galloped at the top of
many hobelers, that you may ride round the their speed straight and hard for each other.
mound yonder and so fall upon them un­ An instant later they met with a thunder-
seen. Let all that are left of the archers crash which was heard by the burghers on
gather on each side, shoot away their arrows, the walls of Poitiers, seven good miles away.
and then fight as best they may. Wait till Under that frightful impact horses fell
they are past yonder thorn bush, and then, dead with broken necks, and many a rider,
Walter, bear my banner straight against that held in his saddle by the high pommel,
of the King of France. Fair sirs, may God fractured his thighs with the shock. Here
and the thought of your ladies hold high and there a pair met breast to breast,
your hearts ! ” the horses rearing straight upwards and
The French monarch, seeing that his foot­ falling back upon their masters. But for
men had made no impression upon the the most part the line had opened in the
English, and also that the hedge had been gallop, and the cavaliers, flying through the
well-nigh levelled to gaps, buried them­
the ground in the selves in the enemy’s
course of the combat, ranks. T h e n the
so that it no longer flanks shredded out,
presented an ob­ and the thick press
stacle, had ordered in t h e c e n t r e
his followers to re­ loosened until there
mount their horses, was space to swing a
and it was as a solid sword and to guide
mass of cavalry that a steed. For ten
the c h i va l ry o f acres there was one
France advanced to wild, tumultuous
their last supreme swirl of tossing
effort. The King heads, of gleaming
was in the centre of weapons which rose
the front line, Geof- and fell, of upthrown
rey de Chargny with hands, o f waving
thegolden oriflamme plumes, and of lifted
upon his right, and shields, whilst the
Eustace de Ribeau- din of a thousand
mont with the Royal war - cries and the
lilies upon the left. clash-clash of metal
At his elbow was the upon metal rose and
Du ke of Athens, swelled like the roar
High Constable of and beat of an ocean
France, and round surge upon a rock-
him were the nobles bound coast. Back­
of the Court, fiery ward and forward
and furious, yelling swayed the mighty
their war-cries as they throng, now down
waved their weapons over their the valley and now
heads. Six thousand gallant men “ t h e r e w as o n e ,
w ild tu m ultuo us up, as each side in
S W I R L O F T O S S I N G H E A D S , OF G L E A M I N G
of the bravest race in Europe, W E A P O N S W HI CH R O S E A N D F E L L , ” turn put forth it?
 6i6 TH E STR A N D M AGAZINE.

strength for a fresh rally. Locked in one long, dropped before his battle - axe, so did the
deadly grapple, great England and gallant Gascon, de Clisson. Nigel was beaten down
France, with iron hearts and souls of fire, on to the crupper of his horse by a sweeping
strove and strove for mastery. blow, but at the same instant Chandos’s
Sir Walter Woodland, riding hard upon his quick blade passed through the Frenchman’s
high black horse, had plunged into the swelter camail and pierced his throat. So died
and headed for the blue and silver banner of Geoffrey de Chargny— but the oriflamme was
King John. Close at his heels in a solid saved.
wedge rode the Prince, Chandos, Nigel, Lord Dazed with the shock, Nigel still kept his
Reginald Cobham, Audley with his four saddle, and Pommers, his yellow hide mottled
famous squires, and a score of the flower of the with blood, bore him onwards with the
English and Gascon knighthood. Holding others. The French horsemen were now in
together and bearing down opposition by a full flight, but one stern group of knights
shower of blows and by the weight of their stood firm, like a rock in a rushing torrent,
powerful horses, their progress was still very beating off all, whether friend or foe, who
slow, for ever fresh waves of French cavaliers tried to break their ranks. The oriflamme had
surged up against them and broke in front, gone, and so had the blue and silver banner,
only to close in again upon their rear. but here were desperate men ready to fight
Sometimes they were swept backwards by to the death. In their ranks honour was
the rush, sometimes they gained a few paces, to be reaped. The Prince and his follow­
sometimes they could but keep their foot­ ing hurled themselves upon them while
hold ; and yet from minute to minute that the rest of the English horsemen swept
blue and silver flag which waved above the onwards to secure the fugitives and to
press grew ever a little closer. A dozen win their ransoms. But the nobler spirits
furious, hard-breathing French knights had — Audley, Chandos, and the others— would
broken into their ranks arid clutched at Sir have thought it shame to gain money whilst
Walter Woodland’s banner, but Chandos and there was work to be done or honour to be
Nigel guarded it on one side, Audley with won. Furious was the wild attack, desperate
his squires on the other, so that no man laid the prolonged defence. Men fell from their
his hand upon it and lived. saddles for very exhaustion. Nigel, still at
But now there was a distant crash and a his place near Chandos’s elbow, was hotly
roar of “ St. George for Guienne ! ” from attacked by a short, broad-shouldered warrior
behind. The Captal de Buch had charged upon a stout white cob, but Pommers reared
home. “ St. George for England ! ” yelled with pawing fore-feet and dashed the smaller
the main attack, and ever the counter cry horse to the ground. The falling rider
came back to them from afar. The ranks clutched Nigel’s arm and tore him from the
opened in front of them. The French were saddle, so that the two rolled upon the grass
giving way. A small knight with golden under the stamping hoofs, the English squire
scroll-work upon his armour threw himself on the top, and his shortened sword glim­
upon the Prince and was struck dead by his mered before the visor of the gasping,
mace. It was the Duke of Athens, Constable breathless Frenchman.
of France, but none had time to note it, and “ Je me rends ! je me rends ! ” he panted.
the fight rolled on over his body. Looser For a moment a vision of rich ransoms
still were the French ranks. Many were passed through Nigel’s brain. That noble
turning their horses, for that ominous roar palfrey, that gold-flecked armour, meant
from the rear had shaken their resolution. fortune to the captor. Let others have it !
The little English wedge poured onwards, the There was work still to be done. How
Prince, Chandos, Audley, and Nigel ever in could he desert the Prince and bis noble
the van. master for the sake of a private gain? Could
A huge warrior in black, bearing a he lead a prisoner to the rear when honour
golden banner, appeared suddenly in a gap beckoned him to the van? He staggered to
of the shredding ranks. He tossed his his feet, seized Pommers by the mane, and
precious burden to a squire, who bore it swung himself into the saddle. An instant
away. Like a pack of hounds on the very later he was by Chandos's side once more and
haunch of a deer the English rushed yelling they were bursting together through the
for the orillamme. But the black warrior last ranks of the gallant group who had
flung himself across their path. “ Chargny! fought so bravely to the end. Behind them
Chargny a la recousse ! ” he roared, with a was one long swathe of the dead and the
voice of thunder. Sir Reginald Cobham woupded. In front the whole wide plain
 SIR N IG E L .

was covered with the flying French and me worthy of the good fortune you bestow
their pursuers. The Prince reined up his upon me. Your knight I will ever be, and
steed and opened his visor, whilst his the money I will divide with your leave
followers crowded round him with waving amongst these four squires, who have brought
weapons and frenzied shouts of victory. me whatever glory I have won this day.”
“ What now, J o h n ? ”
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, a la s! 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 armour.
His four brave squires—
Dutton of Dutton, Delves
of Doddington, Fowlhurst
of Crewe, and Hawk stone
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,” “ T H E PR IN C E R E I N E D UP H IS S T E E D A N D O P EN ED HIS VISOR .”

said he, in a feeble voice.

The Prince dismounted and bent over him. So saying, his head fell back, and he lay
“ I am bound to honour you very much, white and silent upon the grass.
Jam es,” said he, “ for by your valour this day “ Bring water,” said the Prince. “ Let the
you have won glory and renown above us all, Royal leech see to him, for I had rather
and your prowess has proved you to be the lose many men than the good Sir James.
bravest knight.” H a ! Chandos, what have we h ere?”
“ My lord,” murmured the wounded man, A knight lay across the path with his
“ you have a right to say what you please, helmet beaten down upon his shoulders. On
but I wish it were as you say.” his surcoat and shield were the arms of a red
“ James,” said the Prince, “ from this time griffen.
onwards I make you a knight of my own “ It is Robert de Duras, the spy,” said
household, and I settle upon you five Chandos.
hundred marks of yearly income from my “ Well for him that he has met his end,”
own estates in England.” said the angry Prince. “ Put him on his
“ Sir,” the knight answered, “ God make shield, Hubert, and let four archers bear him
Vol. xxxii.—7 8 .
 6i8 TH E STRAND M A G A ZIN E .

to the monastery. Lay him at the feet of indeed they have plagued me sorely. B y
the Cardinal, and say that by this sign I greet St. D en is! my arm has been well-nigh
him. Place my flag on yonder high bush, pulled from its socket.”
Walter, and let my tent be raised there, that “ What wish you, then ? ” asked the Prince,
my friends may know where to seek me.” turning angrily upon the noisy swarm of his
The flight and pursuit had thundered far followers.
away and the field was deserted save for the “ We took him, fair lord. H e is ours ! ”
numerous groups of weary horsemen who cried a score of voices. They closed in, all
were making their way back, driving their yelping together like a pack of wolves. “ It
prisoners before them. The archers were was I, fair lord ! ” “ Nay, it was I ! ” “ Y ou
scattered over the whole plain, rifling the lie, you rascal; it was I ! ” Again their
saddle-bags and gathering the armour of fierce eyes glared and their blood-stained
those who had fallen, or searching for their hands sought the hilts of their weapons.
own scattered arrows. Suddenly, however, “ Nay, this must be settled here and now,”
as the Prince was turning towards the bush said the Prince. “ I crave your patience,
which he had chosen for his head-quarters, fair and honoured sir, for a few brief minutes,
there broke out from behind him an extra­ since indeed much ill-will may spring from
ordinary uproar, and a group of knights this if it be not set at rest. Who is this tall
and squires came pouring towards him, all knight who can scarce keep his hands from
arguing, swearing, and abusing each other in the King’s shoulder ? ”
French and English at the tops of their “ It is Dennis de Morbecque, my lord, a
voices. In the midst of them limped a stout knight of St. Omer, who is in our service,
little man in gold-spangled armour, who being an outlaw from France.”
appeared to be the object of the contention, “ I call him to mind. How then, Sir
for one would drag him one way, and one Dennis ? What say you in this matter? ”
another, as though they would pull him limb “ He gave himself to me, fair lord. H e
from limb. had fallen in the press, and I came upon him
“ Nay, fair sirs, gently, gently, I pray you ! ” and seized him. I told him that I was a
he pleaded. “ There is enough for all, and knight from Artois, and he gave me his glove.
no need to treat me so rudely.” See here, I bear it in my hand.”
But ever the hubbub broke out again, and “ It is true, fair lord ! It is true ! ” cried a
swords gleamed as the angry disputants dozen French voices.
glared furiously at each other. The Prince’s “ Nay, sir, judge not too soon ! ” shouted
eyes fell upon the small prisoner, and he an English squire, pushing his way to the
staggered back with a gasp of astonishment. front. “ It was I who had him at my mercy
“ King John ! ” he cried. and he is my prisoner, for he spoke to this
A shout of joy rose from the warriors man only because he could tell by his tongue
around him. that he was his own countryman. I took
“ The King of Fran ce! The King of him, and here are a score to prove it.”
France a prisoner ! ” they cried, in an ecstasy. “ It is true, fair lord. We saw it and
“ Nay, nay, fair sirs, let him not hear that it was even so,” cried a chorus of Englishmen.
we rejoice. Let no word bring pain to his At all times there was growling and
soul 1 ” Running forward, the Prince clasped snapping betwixt the English and their allies
the French King by the two hands. of France. The Prince saw how easily this
“ Most welcome, sire ! ” he cried. might set a light to such a flame as could not
“ Indeed, it is good for us that so gallant readily be quenched. It must be stamped
a knight should stay with us for some short out now, ere it had time to mount.
time, since the chance of war has so ordered “ Fair and honoured lord,” he said to the
it. Wine there ! Bring wine for the King ! ” King, “ again I pray you for a moment of
But John was flushed and angry. His patience. It is your word, and only yours,
helmet had been roughly torn off, and blood which can tell us what is just and right. T o
was smeared upon his cheek. His noisy whom were you graciously pleased to commit
captors stood around him in a circle, eyeing your Royal person ? ”
him hungrily, like dogs, who have been King John looked up from the flagon
beaten from their quarry. There were which had been brought to him and wiped
( iascons and English —knights, squires, and his lips, with the dawnings of a smile upon his
archers —all pushing and straining. ruddy face.
“ 1 pray you, fair Prince, to get rid of •“ It was not this Englishman,” he said, and
these rude fellows,” said King John, “ for a cheer burst from the Gascons. “ Nor was
 SIR N IG E L . 6 tg

it this bastard Frenchman,” he added. “ To “ Nay, fair lord, I did not receive it.”
neither of them did I surrender.” “ Did you hear him give it ? ”
There was a hush of surprise. “ I heard, sir, but I did not know that it
“ To whom, then, sire ? ” asked the Prince. was the King. My master, Lord Chandos,
The King looked slowly round. had gone on, and 1 followed after.”
“ There was a devil of a yellow horse,” “ And left him lying. Then the surrender
said he. “ My poor palfrey went over like a was not complete, and by the laws of war the
skittle-pin before a ball. Of the rider I know ransom goes to 1 tennis de Morbecque, if his
nothing save that he bore red roses on a silver story be true.”
shield. Ah ! by St. Denis, there is the man “ It is true,” said the King. “ He was the
himself, and there his thrice accursed horse ! ” second.”
His head swimming, and moving as if in a “ Then the ransom is yours, Dennis. But
dream, Nigel found himself the centre of the for my part 1 swear by my father’s soul that
circle of armed and angry men. The Prince I had rather have the honour this squire has
laid his hand upon his shoulder. gathered than the richest ransoms of France.”

“ r ise up , sir n ig e l ! ”

“ it is the little cock of Tilford Bridge,” At these words, spoken before that circle
said he. “ On my father’s soul, I have ever of noble warriors, Nigel’s heart gave one
said that you would win your way. Did you great throb, and he dropped upon his knee
receive the King’s surrender?” before the Prince.
 620 TH E STR A N D M A G A ZIN E .

“ Fair lord, how can I thank yo u ?” he own table ? I can worship the good God
murmured. “ These words at least are more amongst His own works, the woods and the
than any ransom.” fields, better than in yon pile of stone and
“ Rise up ! ” said the smiling Prince, and wood. But I call to mind a charm for a
he smote with his sword upon his shoulder. wounded hawk which was taught me by the
“ England has lost a brave squire and has fowler of Gaston de Foix. How did it run ?
gained a gallant knight. Nay, linger not, I ‘ The Lion of the Tribe of Judah, the root
pray. Rise up, Sir N ig e l! ” of David, has conquered.’ Yes, those were
the words to be said three times as you walk
CH APTER XXVII. round the perch where the bird is mewed.”
HOW TH K T H IR D M E SSE N G E R CAM E TO The old priest shook his head.
COSFORD. “ Nay, these charms are tricks of the
Two months have passed, and the long devil,” said he. “ Holy Church lends them
slopes of Hindhead are russet with the faded no countenance, for they are neither good
ferns— the fuzzy brown pelt which wraps the nor fair. But how is it now with your
chilling earth. With whoop and scream the tapestry, Lady Mary? When last I was
wild November wind sweeps over the great beneath this roof you had half done in five
rolling downs, tossing the branches of the fair colours the story of Theseus and
Cosford beeches and rattling at the rude Ariadne.”
latticed windows. The stout old Knight of “ It is half done still, holy father.”
Dupplin, grown even a little stouter, with “ How is this, my daughter? Have you,
whiter beard to fringe an ever redder face, then, so many calls ? ”
sits as of yore at the head of his own board. “ Nay, holy father, her thoughts are other­
A well-heaped platter, flanked by a foaming where,” Sir John answered. “ She will sit
tankard, stands before him. At his right sits an hour at a time, the needle in her hand
the Lady Mary, her dark, plain, queenly face and her soul a hundred leagues from Cosford
marked deep with those years of weary wait­ House. Ever since the Prince’s battle— — ”
ing, but bearing the gentle grace and dignity “ Good father, I beg you----- ”
which only sorrow and restraint can give. “ Nay, Mary, none can hear me save your
On his left is Mathew, the old priest. Long own confessor, Father Mathew. Ever since
ago the golden-haired beauty had passed the Prince’s battle, I say, when we heard
from Cosford to Fernhurst, where the young that young Nigel had won such honour,
and beautiful Lady Edith Brocas is the belle she is brain-wode, and sits ever—well, even
of all Sussex, a sunbeam of smiles and merri­ as you see her now.”
ment, save perhaps when her thoughts for an An intent look had come into Mary’s
instant fly back to that dread night when she eyes; her gaze was fixed upon the dark,
was plucked from under the very talons of rain-splashed window. It was a face carved
the foul hawk of Shalford. from ivory, white-lipped and rigid, on which
The old knight looked up as a fresh gust the old priest looked.
of wind with a dash of rain beat against the “ What is it, my daughter ? What do you
window behind him. see ? ”
“ By St. Hubert, it is a wild night ! ” “ I see nothing, father.”
said he. “ I had hoped to-morrow to have a “ What is it, then, that disturbs you ? ”
flight at a heron of the pool or a mallard in “ I hear, father.”
the brook. How fares it with little Kather­ “ What do you hear ? ”
ine the peregrine, Mary ? ” “ There are horsemen on the road.”
“ I have joined the wing, father, and I The old knight laughed.
have imped the feathers, but I fear it will be “ So it goes on, father. What day is there
Christmas ere she can fly again.” that a hundred horsemen do not pass our
“ This is a hard saying,” said Sir John, gate, and yet every clink of hoofs sets her
“ for indeed I have seen no bolder, better poor heart a-treinbling. So strong and stead­
bird. Her wing was broken by a heron’s fast she has ever been, my Mary, and now
beak last Sabbath sennight, holy father, and no sound too slight to shake her to the soul !
Mary has the mending of it.” Nay, daughter, nay, 1 pray you ! ”
“ I trust, my son, that you had heard mass She had half risen from her chair, her
ere you turned to worldly pleasure upon hands clenched and her dark, startled eyes
God's holy day ? ” Father Mathew answered. still fixed upon the window.
“ Tut, tut!" said the old knight, laughing. “ 1 hear them, father ! I hear them amid
“ Shall I make confession at the head of n.y the wind and the rain ! Yes, yes, they are
 SIR N IG E L. 621

turning— they have turned ! My God, they and it twinkled in the torchlight. “ Did you
are at our very door ! ” say that you must go on your way to-morrow,
“ By St. Hubert, the girl is right! ” cried father?” he asked the priest.
old Sir John, beating his fist upon the board. “ Indeed, fair son, the matter presses.”
“ Ho, varlets, out with you to the yard 1 Set “ But you may bide the morning?’
the mulled wine on the blaze once more. “ It will suffice if I start at noon.”
There are travellers at the gate, and it is no “ Much may be done in a morning.” He
night to keep a dog waiting at our door. looked at Mary, who blushed and smiled.
Hurry, Hannekin, hurry, I say, or I will “ By St. Paul, I have waited long enough ! ”
haste you with my cudgel! ” “ Good ! g o o d !” chuckled the old knight,
Plainly to the ears of all men could be with wheezy laughter. “ Even so I wooed
heard the stamping of the horses. Mary had your mother, Mary. Wooers were brisk in
stood up, quivering in every limb. An eager the olden time. To-morrow is Tuesday, and
step at the threshold, the door was flung Tuesday is ever a lucky day. Alas, that the
wide, and there in the opening stood Nigel, good Dame Ermyntrude is no longer with us
the rain gleaming upon his smiling face, his to see it done! The old Hound must run
cheeks flushed with the beating of the wind, us down, Nigel, and I hear its bay upon my
his blue eyes shining with tenderness and own heels, but my heart will rejoice that
love. Something held her by the throat, the before the end I may call you son. Give me
light of the torches danced up and down, but your hand, Mary—and yours, Nigel. Now
her strong spirit rose at the thought that take an old man’s blessing, and may God
others should see that inner holy of holies of keep and guard you both, and give you your
her soul. There is a heroism of women to desert, for I believe on my soul that in all
which no valour of man can attain. Her this broad land there dwells no nobler man,
eyes only carried him her message as she nor any woman more fitted to be his mate.”
h e l d out her
hand. There let us
“ W elcom e, leave them, their
N igel!” said she. hearts full of
H e st ooped gentle joy, the
and kissed it. golden future of
“ St. Catherine hope and promise
has brought me stretching out be­
home,” said he. fore their youth­
ful eyes. Alas
A merry sup­ for those green
per it was at Cos- spring dream-
ford Manor that ings ! How often
night, with Nigel do they fade and
at the head be­ wither until they
twixt the jovial fall and rot, a
old knight and dreary sight, by
the Lady Mary, the wayside of
whilst at the far­ life ! But here,
ther end Samkin by God’s bless­
Aylward, wedged ing, it was not
between two servant-maids, so, for they bur­
kept his neighbours in geoned and they
altern ate laughter and grew, ever fairer
terror as he told his tales and more noble,
of the French Wars. Nigel until the whole
had to turn his doeskin wide world might
heels and show his little marvel at the
golden spurs. As he spoke M A R Y HAD STOOD UP, Q U IV E R IN G IN E V E R Y LIM B. beauty of it. It
of what was past Sir John has been told else­
clapped him on the shoulder, while Mary took where how, as the years passed, Nigel’s name
his strong right hand in hers, and the good rose higher in honour, but still Mary’s would
old priest, smiling, blessed them both. Nigel keep pace with it, each helping and sustaining
had drawn a little golden ring from his pocket, the other upon an ever higher path. In many
 622 TH E ST R A N D M A G A ZIN E .

ford ? Where is the old house of

Tilford ? Where, but for a few
scattered grey stones, is the
mighty pile of Waverley? And
yet even gnawing Time has not
eaten all things away. Walk with
me towards Guildford, reader,
upon the busy highway.
Here, where the high
green mound rises be­
fore us, mark yonder
roofless shrine which
still stands four-square
to the winds. It is St.
C a t h e r i n e ’ s, wher e
N i g e l and Ma r y
plighted their faith.
Below lies the wind­
ing 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
“ NOW T A K E A N O L D m a n ’ s H I . K S S I K G , A N D church of Compton. Pass under the aged
M A Y GO D K E E P A N D G U A R D YOU B O T H . " and crumbling arch. Before the steps of
that ancient altar, unrecorded and unbrassed,
lands did Nigel carve his fame, and ever as lies the dust of Nigel and of Mary. Near
he returned spent and weary from his work he them is that of Maude, their daughter, and
drank fresh strength and fire and craving for of Alleyne Edricson, whose spouse she
honour from her who glorified his home. was; their children and children’s children
At Twynham Castle they dwelled for many are lying by their side. Here, too, near the
years, beloved and honoured by all. Then old yew in the churchyard, is the little mound
in the fullness of time they came back to the which marks where Samkin Aylward went
Tilford manor-house and spent their happy, back to that good soil from which he sprang.
healthy age amid those heather downs So lie the dead leaves; but they and such as
where Nigel had passed his first lusty youth, they nourish for ever that great old trunk of
ere ever he turned his face to the wars. England, which still sheds forth another crop
Thither also came Aylward when he had and another, each as strong and as fair as
left the Pied Merlin, where for many the last. The body may lie in mouldering
a year he sold ale to the men of the chancel or in crumbling vault, but the
forest. rumour of noble lives, the record of valour
But the years pass ; the old wheel turns and truth, can never die, but lives on in the
and ever the thread runs out. The wise soul of the people. Our own work lies ready
and the good, the noble and the brave, to our own hands, and yet our strength may be
they come from the darkness, and into the greater and our faith the firmer if we spare
the darkness they go, whence, whither, and an hour from present toils to look back upon
why who may say? Here is the slope of the women who were gentle and strong, or
Hindhead. The fern still glows russet in the men who loved honour more than life, on
November, the heather still burns red in this green stage of England where for a few
July ; but where now is the manor of Cos- short years we play our little part.