** *'* Ji'Wi^Ui Ht J ,- Q nia BRAKESPEARE; OR, THE FOETUNES OF A FREE LANCE. I THE AUTHOR OF " GUY LIVINGSTONE." IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. I. LONDON :] TINSLEY BEOTHEES, 18, CATHEEINE ST., STEAND.. 1868. \_TJie Right of Translation is reserved.} LONDON : BRADBURV, EVANS, AND CO., PRINTERS, WHITEFRIAKS. v CONTENTS. CHAP. PAGE I. TWENTY YEARS BACK. ..... 1 II. MATCHED, NOT MATED 14 III. THE WORKING OF THE RESCRIPT ... 28 IV. THE BREEDING OF THE BASTARD . . 4't V. AN HAGARENE 54 VI. HOW RALPH FITZWARENNE MET A HOLY PRIEST BY THE WAY, AND WOULD NONE OF HIS BLESSING 71 VII. HOW RALPH FITZWARENNE TOOK FROM AN HONEST MAN HIS GOOD NAME 87 VIII. OF THE COMPANY THAT RALPH, SURNAMES BRAKE- SPEARE, MET UNDER THE SIGN OF THE SPUR . 105 IX. HOW RALPH TOOK SERVICE UNDER SIR JOHN HAWKWOOD 123 X. HOW RALPH BRAKESPEARE RODE AFTER SIR JOHN HAWKWOOD TO SANDWICH . . . . ] 46 2207031 VI CONTENTS. CHAP. PAGE XI. BEFORE CALAIS . . . . . .156 XII. HOW RALPH BRAKESPEARE RAN A COURSE WITH A TRENCH KNIGHT, AND SLEW HIM . . . 168 .XIII. HOW RALPH BRAKESFEARE DONNED SILVER SPURS 188 XIV. HOW CALAIS WAS WON 199 XV. THE BATTLE ON THE CAUSEWAY. . . .213 XVI. HOW RALPH FARED AT CASTING THE DICE . . 226 XVII. HAUTE JUSTICE AT ST. OMER .... 241 XVIII.- AT BORDEAUX 265 BRAKESPEAKE; OR, THE FORTUNES OF A FEEE LANCE. CHAPTER I. TWENTY YEARS BACK. BIGHT in the shadow of the wooded hills that fringed the border of the Kentish Weald, stood the ancient castle of Bever so ancient, that, before the thirteen hundredth year of grace, it had begun to show signs of decay ; crevices bare of niortar gave rare holding ground for moss and wallflower, and the coigns where wind, and weather beat sharpest had already mouldered. Moreover, it had the evil chance to be sacked and burned in two civil wars. After the first of these disasters it was partly restored ; but in the VOL. I. I? 8 BRAKESPEARE. second, mining powder helped fire and battering train, and the enemy's work was so thoroughly done, that scarce a semblance of the dwelling was left amongst uncouth heaps of rent, blackened stone. No wonder that Dynevor, coming to his own again, should turn aside from the un- lucky site, and choose to build a more modest mansion on the nearest hill-spur, where he found a fairer prospect and healthier air. Long after that, the country folk came to the spot, as to a quarry for such rude repairs as needed not fresh mason-work; and the ruins that were left crumbled fast under their dank shroud of ivy and lichen, till at last the sward closed smoothly over all. Fifty years ago, a careless wayfarer might have passed by, without ever noticing the low broad mounds swelling over the foundations of flanking tower, barbican, and keep, and the faint irregular hollow that traces the circuit of the castle-ditch. Nevertheless, the husbandman guesses that there is masonry enough, not a cubit below the sod, to turn the edge of the stoutest plough-share : and the antiquary TWENTY YEARS BACK. 3 witting well that with this spot neither Briton, Koman, nor Anglo-Saxon has had aught to do cares not to delve in soil barren of treasure- trove in clay, metal, or bone. So the old pasturage remains unbroken ; neither is it likely that for many a year the South Down wethers will be troubled in their enjoyment of the short, sweet herbage on which they thrive so marvellously. But it was a fair castle enough in its day over-large, in truth, for the demesnes which were its appanage; and these had been greatly nar- rowed early in the fourteenth century by the grant of lands made by Sir Charles Dynevor to the Cistercian Abbey of Haultvaux. The causes of which munificence, and other matters pertaining to this tale, shall now be set forth. Men of a certain mould must needs leave their mark on their time, even if they achieve therein no great dignity or honour ; and the cool, crafty schemer is most dangerous in an age where rapine by the strong hand prevails, and the mass B 2 4 BRAKE SPE ARE. have neither patience to wait, nor providence to plan. Such an one was Giles Dynevor. Violent, sensual, and rapacious by nature he kept anger, lust, and covetousness in fetters, till it was safe or profitable to let them loose ; and, though his favourite sin was avarice, he would scatter gold broadcast without murmur or regret, if thereby he hoped to compass some end worthy the cost. He was possessed by that thorough-going ambition which is not devoid of simple unselfish grandeur, insomuch that it aims rather at the advance- ment of posterity than at profit, private and per- sonal, for oftentimes the schemer can no more hope to reap the ripe fruit of his policy than the planter of an acorn could hope to sit under the full shadow of the oak. Nevertheless, he throve not after the measure of his merits ; and, when long past middle age, his advancement would have fallen far short of his desires, had they been tenfold more moderate. Nor would the causes of this ill-fortune be hard to find ; though Dynevor, with all his subtlety, perceived them not. The very qualities that might reasonably have made TWENTY YEARS BACK. 5 him powerful, made him both misliked and mistrusted. The rude barons and unlettered knights, that were his fellows, felt that there was one in the midst of them whose thoughts were not as their thoughts, and shrank from the quiet, taciturn, clerkly plotter as they would have shrunk from an intruder of alien blood. Few cared openly to avoid his company, much less to provoke his enmity ; but none cared to court his friendship ; and many would have been well pleased to thwart his purpose, even though it clashed not with their own. To this dislike, covert or avowed, there was one singular exception. Ivo Malpas and Giles Dynevor had been not neighbours alone, but sworn companions, from boyhood upwards. They had followed the chase through the same woods; had caroused at the same table when the hunting was done ; and, if all the tales were true, had wrought more evil deeds in common than need be recorded here. In public quarrel, or in private feud, these two had ever espoused the same cause ; and their 6 BRAKESPEARE. vassals fought, naturally, side by side, when the battle was set in array. Once, in the Scots wars, when Malpas had blundered into an am- bush, like a wild bull into the toils, Dynevor had ridden in gallantly to the rescue, and brought off his brother-in-arms scathless, at the cost of a shrewd lance-thrust in his own side ; for the Black Douglas, when overmatched, gave ground slowly and sullenly, turning, every now and then, to gore. In all this close companionship, it would have been strange indeed had the weaker nature not been enslaved by the stronger ; and Ivo Malpas was noted for witlessness, in a witless age. Moreover, he was given to strong drinks, to an extent rare among the Normans, who despised drunkenness as a vice of a conquered people. As time passed on, the subjection grew more complete, till at last Ivo was no more a free agent than if he had been born a villein on the fief of Bever. Two solitary virtues, honesty and courage, abode with him still ; but, in despite of these, he would have turned his hand to any TWENTY YEARS BACK. 7 work, howsoever base or cruel, had his comrade so willed it. It may be that Giles Dynevor liked the poor, faithful sot, as much as it was in his nature to like any living being not of his own blood. Yet, had it served his ends, he would scarcely have scrupled to mix for the other such a posset as should have made his slumbers last till the judgment day. Through long years, Dynevor had kept one purpose steadily in view ; and matters had not yet come to the point where Ivo's death could profit any one. That purpose was the alliance of their several houses. For many roods their lands marched together-; but, at a certain angle where the boundary stream trended eastward, the fief of Dynevor ended, whilst that of Malpas stretched its fertile length a full league beyond his neighbour's landmark. Sir Giles could scarce remember the time when he first cast covetous eyes on the broad inherit- ance that seemed to dwarf, by contrast, his own domain. Certainly, before boyhood ended, he 8 BRAKESPEARE. had sworn to attach it to himself by fair means or foul. For a while, the course of events seemed to run strangely in unison with his design. After the hirth of one son his own marriage- bed was barren ; and, of four born to Ivo Malpas, one daughter only remained, some years younger than Dynevor's heir. True it was, that at the death of its lord without issue, the fief of Tyring- ham would revert to its suzerain. But, for years to come, the Crown must needs be worn by a driveller, or an infant ; and Sir Giles had faith enough in his own sagacity and knowledge of court tides, not to fear the result. The husband of Malpas' only daughter, being of suitable degree, might reasonably ask for the renewal of her father's seisin ; and, by the time it was wanted, there should be gold enough in the family coffers to secure the intercession of any favourite by glutting his greed. So, let Ivo only live till the night of the day that should make their houses one. Afterwards At this stage in his musings Sir Giles' cruel face would harden and darken. Of a surety he TWENTY YEARS BACK. 9 did not reckon on his friend's enjoying great length of days. Before Edith Malpas was well into her teens, she was solemnly betrothed to Simon Dynevor ; and the plighting, by proxy, of hand and glove was celebrated at Tyringham by a mighty carouse, whence the lord of the castle was borne senseless to his couch, whilst the other contracting party walked slowly and steadily to his chamber, where he sat pondering late into the night. The affianced pair grew up through boyhood and girlhood, meeting very seldom. Neither did this rare intercourse ripen their liking. The damsel was anything but pleasant to look upon j being, in truth, somewhat deformed in shape, and afflicted almost from her birth with fits of the falling-sickness. Of these defects, when he sent his son a-wooing, Sir Giles made account of no more than, in choosing a war-horse, he would have objected to a coarse neck or heavy crest, where all other points were perfect. In bare justice to him it should be averred, that he would not have been a whit more delicate had the case 10 BRAKESPEARE. been his own. The broad lands of Tyringham must needs be taken with an incumbrance ; and he would as lief have laid the burden on his own shoulders as on those of his heir. But Dame Alice Dynevor cared for her body's health no less than for her soul's ; and shewed no signs of presently quitting the world whose sins she was ever bewailing. So, since better might not be, he prepared to sacrifice his first-born calmly, if not complacently, as many fathers, Pagan, Hebrew, and Christian, have done before and since his time. Now, though all the surface looked placid and prosperous enough, there was an undercurrent fraught with danger and wreck to these politic plans. Though he inherited not his sire's ruth- less strength of will, there was in Simon Dynevor a slow sullen obstinacy, prompting him to run counter to the bidding of any authority whatso- ever, so long as he risked not open revolt. Having no ambition, and but a moderate share of avarice, he held that the fief of Bever might well suffice his needs, as it had hitherto sufficed his TWENTY YEARS BACK. 11 father's ; and cared not to pay with his body for the acquirement of wealth and power that he wist not how to use, or for possible advancement to baron's degree. He had conceived an aversion for his child- betrothed from the first moment he heard her shrill, querulous voice, and set eyes on her white, pain-stricken face and mis-shaped figure. As the days drew on, this deepened into somewhat nearly akin to loathing; and the unseen fetter galled him more and more sorely. When he was of age to ride in his father's train to distant jousts, or other congresses of knights and barons, it was strange to see how his mood would change and lighten when once fairly out of sight of the watch-tower of Tyringham, which was a land- mark for leagues around. Sy the time they reached their journey's end, Simon was ready to join in revel or mischief with as keen a relish as the maddest esquire of them all; albeit there was ever a certain feverishness in his mirth. When they turned bridle again, the cloud settled down faster than it had lifted ; and there passed 12 BRAKE SPE ARE. in over the drawbridge of Bever the same sullen, silent youth that had ridden forth a week agone. When the lords of the Western Marches rose up in revolt, Dynevor went not forth with Lan- caster and his compeers. Further, he prevailed on Malpas to bide quietly at home. Not without difficulty for that brainless knight could never hear of brawl or battle, without coveting his share in blows and plunder. During their brief success, Sir Giles never once repented himself of his caution, neither did he deign to answer his comrade's repeated grumblings. But, after the disaster at Boroughbridge, when the best blood in England was flowing under the deemster's knife, said Dynevor with his surly smile " Owest me no thanks for again saving that big carcase of thine ? This last was a better turn, than when I plucked thee out of Black James's grip. Were it not for me, thou would'st be feeding crows on the same gibbet with yonder wittol of Badlesmere."* * The refusal of the lord of Badlesmere to admit Queen Isabella to Leeds Castle, Kent, was the immediate cause of the revolt of the Barons, and Edward's stern reprisals. TWENTY YEARS BACK. 13 To all this Ivo gave ready assent, and thence- forth believed more helplessly than ever in the other's foresight and sagacity. So the time for the fulfilment of the contract drew nearer and nearer, till the espousals were fixed for Edith's sixteenth birthday. It was in the year that brought a weak and wicked reign to a shameful ending the year that saw a long debt fairly paid, when Isabella and her liegemen gave monarch and minion quittance in full. Ere this, another feeling besides aversion was at work in Simon Dynevor's breast. CHAPTER II. MATCHED, NOT MATED. IN those times, many discreet and pious ladies, even of no great estate, were wont to take under their charge one or more damsels of gentle birth, whom death or other chance had deprived of their natural protectors, for the purpose of edu- cating them till they should be sought in mar- riage ; such education being in most cases con- fined to perpetual practice of tapestry work, and the hearing of homilies and saintly legends read aloud by the chapellan of the castle. Maude Warenne's father was but a poor knight- bachelor ; and spent well-nigh all the remains of his worldly estate in the furnishing of a small clump of lances, when the King set forth for his last Scottish War ; hoping, doubtless, to recoup himself by ransom of prisoners, if not by MATCHED, NOT MATED. 15 plunder. But by that ill-fated armament neither wealth nor fame was to be won. When Michael Warenne died gallantly in his harness at Ban- nockburn covering the flight of the monarch who knew him not by name he left his orphan child nearly a beggar. Dame Alice Dynevor was a somewhat distant cousin; nevertheless Sir Giles made no objec- tion when his wife proposed to take the maiden in charge. The hangings in the great presence chamber sorely wanted renewing ; and, for some few years to come, a deft worker in tapestry might be well worth clothing and maintenance. Maude "VVarenne was a fair, delicate girl fair enough, at least, to draw to herself whatsoever of heart the heir of Dynevor had to spare. It was the old story over again, that never lacks a new phase the story of the labyrinth as ancient as Time, wherein any one of ten thousand thousand paths may lead to the same fatal goal. Dame Alice, albeit the austerest and most vigilant of matrons like other dragons saw no danger in her own brood ; and set little check on the com- 16 BKAKESPEARE. panionship of those two. Simon Dynevor grew wondrously duteous in attendance of his mother, and fond of listening to the chapellan's long- winded readings. Then, there came about meet- ings brief at first, and seemingly by chance, soon of design, and perilously prolonged in some lonely echoing corridor, through which few of the household would have cared to pass alone after nightfall ; then, stolen trysts by moonlight in some shady nook of the castle-garden. One morning, just a month before the day for which the Malpas espousals were set, those two strolled forth into the plaisance beyond the bar- bican, innocently enough ; but they came not back to the nooning : and, before vespers, all at Bever wist that they had fled together. When Sir Giles returned he had ridden forth to a neighbouring town soon after dawn he found his household in great turmoil ; and Dame Alice ill at ease, tended only by her bower- woman and mediciner. That imperious lady stood in mortal fear of her husband, albeit her worst treatment at his hands had been cold MATCHED, NOT MATED. 17 neglect, varied by some brutal jest or savage sneer ; and she preferred that he should hear bad tidings from any other mouth than hers. But Dynevor received them with singular calm- ness, only grumbling under his breath " A murrain on the hot-blooded fool ! Could he not have waited for his leman till he was wived?" He thought his son was but repeating one of the profligate adventures for which his own youth and early manhood had been evilly renowned ; and guessed that the seducer would not tarry long with his victim after his phantasy was sated. Also, he knew that Ivo Malpas would be more like to laugh than be wroth at such a freak of his future son-in-law ; and that the child-bride even if it came to her ears would not dare to murmur. So that the espousals need not necessarily be de- ferred. The good knight had ever a politic horror of open scandal or uproar ; therefore he caused no hue and cry to be made after the truants, and for a while seemed content to let things bide, 18 BRAKESPEARE. But, on the fifth evening, one of Dynevor's foresters, coming homeward through the twilight, was accosted about a league from, the castle by a stranger of mean exterior, who thrust into his hand a sealed packet, with charge to deliver it instantly to his lord; and then dived into the woodland without abiding question. The missive, penned by Simon Dynevor himself the youth had no mean clerkly skill was simple enough. It told of his marriage to Maude Warenne according to the rites of Holy Church ; besought his father's forgiveness ; and, further, prayed that answer should be sent to the house of a certain obscure scrivener dwelling in the borough of Southwark. When Sir Giles had read the letter through, there came over his face a change such as no man had ever seen there ; and there broke forth betwixt his grinded teeth a curse and an oath that made the chapellan, who alone chanced to be present, shiver and cross himself as though he stood in the visible presence of the fiend. The curse was levelled at the heads of both the MATCHED, NOT MATED. 19 rebels : in the oath, Dynevor swore that, come life or come death, his will should yet be wrought out, by foul means or fair. After that first out- break, he gave no sign either of grief or anger ; only he bade the priest keep his tongue from wagging, if he would keep it in his head ; and so he took himself to his chamber, where, for years past, he had been wont to sleep or watch alone. In those times of rapine and misrule, few knights or nobles scrupled to thrust any obstacle out of their path with the strong hand. More than once during his long night musings, Dynevor meditated violence against the life or liberty of the new-made bride. Even if she were not done instantly to death, prisons might be found scarcely less s.afe and secret than the grave. But the penniless orphan was of gentle birth, and it might not be wise to crush her like a churl's daughter. Certain of her kinsfolk might be both able and willing to exact heavier were-geld for their cousin's blood than it would be convenient to pay. Notably, there was Hugh Warenne, who c 2 20 ' BRAKESPE.ARE. had won great renown in the Scots and Irish wars, and had taken part with the King in the rebellion of the Earls a good knight and true, but very choleric and rancorous, apt to draw sword in quarrels far less just than the redressing of a kinswoman's wrong. So, malpractice behoved to be managed warily. Sir Giles thought within himself "Anent such matters, good counsel is often found under a monk's cowl. I will ride to the abbey, ere I carry these news to Tyringham. It is ill-talking with Ivo, while his wits are flooded with yester-even's drink. The abbot is naught; but Hildebrand, the Sub-prior, bears a subtle brain. I would fain have his aid in this strait, though I wis it will cost no mean fee." Early on the morrow Dynevor went forth, without communing with any of his household, attended only by one ancient esquire whom he specially trusted, and lighted down under the porch of Haultvaux, when matins were newly done. He was sure of welcome there, were it only for MATCHED, NOT MATED. 21 his wife's sake ; for the name of that devout lady was a password to priestly favour throughout the country-side ; he himself, too, had somewhat amended his ill ways of late; paid all church dues regularly ; and showed courtesy, if not reverence, to frock and hood. The monks might have had many a worse neighbour. Thus, when he had told his errand, he was not bidden to wait ; but the lay brother brought him into the presence of the man he sought, who chanced to be walking in the convent-garden alone. The Sub -prior was tall and spare of frame, with a face far more careworn and deeply-lined than was warranted by his forty years. He had a swift, restless glance, and the curt, decisive manner of one who cares not to waste time in idle speech. It was not the first time that these two had conferred together, though never on matter of such grave import ; and each had con- ceived a certain respect for the other's saga- city, even if between them there were not perfect trust. While Dynevor told his brief tale, Hildebrand 22 BRAKESPEARE. walked on silently, his head bent upon his breast ; but at the last words, he halted and looked up with a glitter in his keen black eyes. " This comes of showing charity to beggarly cousins." "It is ill repenting any charity whatsoever," the churchman said. "And to whom should alms be given, if not to a man's own kin ? Yet I knew not the damsel was of your blood." "Neither is she" the other answered; "but a far-off kinswoman of my dame, who must needs befriend her when the Scots slew her father; albeit, there were others whom the charge better became." " A far-off kinswoman, sayest thou ? Near enough, perchance, were her lineage heedfully looked into, to be within the degrees forbidden to wed, unless by special license of the Church. There hath been loose observance of such rules of late by many godless laymen ; but, I mind me, these matters were much spoken of at the last Council ; and our Holy Father averred that order should be taken with such as occasion MATCHED, NOT MATED. 23 sball serve. Thus much I know of a surety, from a near kinsman of mine, who hath long been high in trust with our Holy Father, though he wears cardinal's hat but newly." Seldom, indeed, had Dynevor's well-trained face betrayed so much emotion as disturbed it then. His voice was unsteady as he made answer ; and the fingers that griped the priest's sleeve shook with a fierce emotion. " By Christ's body ! I did well in seeking thee in this my strait ! Thou canst give good help, no less than good counsel here. I wot well such service is costly ; for each door at Avignon must be unlocked with a golden key. Now, good father Hildebrand, say what thou requirest. I will not stand a-chaffering, though I have to give bond on the half of my possessions to Longobard or Jew." The monk's restless eyes grew steady, as though they had been carved in jet, as they settled on the other's face. " For myself I require nothing," he said, very coldly. " And, it may be, my kinsman will take 24 BRAKESPEARE. no guerdon for serving me or mine : yet were it shame if I let pass a chance of profiting mine Order. Lo, I will deal plainly and roundly with thee. In our chartulary there lies, as thou may'st see, a map of the lands wherewith this Abbey was endowed by the first Henry, our pious founder. Our limits are narrower now by many a rood than there set forth. Wottest thou why ? Thou hast heard of the troubles in King Stephen's time, when those that sat in high places waxed so stubborn in their guilt, that Theobald, the Archbishop, was constrained to lay all this fair realm under ban? In those dark and evil days, many quarrels arose betwixt clerk and layman. Taking vantage of one of such, and, perchance, of some faint uncertainty in bounds, thine ancestor, Oliver Dynevor, violently ousted our vassals from all our lands lying west- ward of the streamlet men call the Neme; and held them ever after by the strong hand. This iniquity King Stephen did manifestly coun- tenance and approve ; for which misdeed, and many others, may God assoilzie him ! All these MATCHED, NOT MATED. 25 things are set down in our chronicles, not with- out dolour and something of self-reproach by Ingilram, our then-time Abbot a godly man, and of tender conscience albeit scarce made of martyr's stuff. Now should I place in thine hand our Holy Father's rescript, utterly anul- ling this, thy son's marriage, wilt thou make amends for the sins of thy fathers, and restore to the Church her own ? If this please thee, it is well. With the good leave of my Superior, I will aid thee to the uttermost of my power. Neither do I fear but that we shall compass our ends. If otherwise let there be no further words betwixt us : but go thy way in peace ; being assured that I will not bewray. thy counsel." Whilst Sir Giles stood silent, his brows were ominously overcast. Yet was the frown rather of thought than of anger. He knew none better the length and breadth of each acre he was asked to resign ; the hanging woods holding many oaks and beeches ripe for fell- ing; the fair corn lands sloping to the south- east, so as to miss no gleam of morning and 26 BRAKESPEARE. noonday suns; the fat meadows, where the herbage hid the hocks of browsing kine. But, fairer and broader and richer yet, stretched before his mind's eye the domains of which one, standing on Tyringharn Keep, could scarce see the ending. His choice was not long a making. " Thou art a shrewd bargainer, Sub-prior" he said, with a short, sullen laugh. " But I blame thee not for making good terms for thine order ; especially since its advancement may, one day, be thine own. 'Tis a heavy venture and a perilous : I am even as a merchant, who sends forth his mightiest argosy to trade in unknown seas. Only, chances of life and death are harder to reckon than hazard of wind or waves. Nevertheless, as I said afore, I will not chaffer with thee. Do thou engage that this matter shall be managed, at thine own cost and risk, should it miscarry : on my part, I will cause to be prepared a gift-deed of every acre whereof thou hast spoken. This will I exchange with the rescript that shall leave my son free to wed again." MATCHED, NOT MATED. 27 On this compact, without more ado, the priest and the knight struck hands ; and presently, after it had been approved by the abbot, each swore to perform his part therein faithfully, on the most precious of the many reliquaries for which Haultvaux was famed that enclosing a veritable morsel of the holy scourge. Then, with heart and brain somewhat lightened, Sir Giles set forward to tell his tale at Tyring- ham. CHAPTER III. THE WORKING OF THE EE SCRIPT. * ON hearing the news, Malpas*fell at the first into great wonderment and wroth ; but soon sank into his wonted sullen acquiescence in his comrade's will : swearing, with a grisly oath, that " it would do the wench no harm to wait ; and that, if she wedded not Dynevor's son, she might, for aught he cared,die a maid." So the runaways dwelt for awhile, in great peace and content, in a lonely hostel without the skirts of Southwark ; subsisting on moneys taken up at heavy interest by Simon Dynevor from certain Hebrews who were ready to pleasure the heir of Bever; never dreaming that doctors learned in Church-law were even then busy with their names and lineage, and that the highest, if THE WORKING OF THE RESCRIPT. 29 not the wisest, head in Christendom had been disquieted with their matters. They began by being very timid and wary ; keeping always their chamber by day, and only venturing forth after nightfall to take the air, but as time went on, bringing no answer to Simon's letter, and yet no further cause for alarm, they waxed bolder, and crept further a-field ; though tbey ever shunned open street or' ' frequented highway. Of a truth, caution was utterly wasted. In the very month of their flight, the cunning hunter whom they both so dreaded had har- boured his game; and could afford to bide quiet till the fitting time came foi* loosing his gazehounds. Fettered in one of his own dungeons, Simon would scarce have been a safer prisoner, than where his goings out and comings in were never unwatched by his father's spies. The Sub -prior had not over- rated his kinsman's authority or goodwill ; and fear or favour wrought more potently at Avignon than 30 BRAKESPEAEE. even at Rome. Before the summer was far spent, the ^Pope's rescript came, making utterly null and void Simon Dynevor's marriage, and bidding him put away his wife, under pain of Church's ban. One evening, in that same week, Simon walked forth along the river-side alone ; for Maud's failing health did not suffer her to go often abroad. Passing through a coppice, he was sud- denly beset and overcome before he could make a show of resistance. When the mantle which both blindfolded and gagged him was removed, he found himself set in saddle in the midst of a clump of spears. None of those horsemen bore badge or helmet, or blazon on shield ; but, as they sped swiftly through the summer night, the youth recognised the burly figure of Philip Kemeys, the ancient esquire who carried ever Dynevor's banner. He asked no question after that; and kept sullen silence till they brought him, some few hours later, into his father's presence. Sir Giles was, as has been aforesaid, a man of THE WORKING OF THE RESCRIPT. 31 few words. If he gave the runaway no kindly greeting, neither did he waste time in reviling. When they were alone together, he set before his son a copy, fairly engrossed, of the Pope's rescript, and gave the youth time to digest it thoroughly. But, when he spoke, each slow syllable carried with it the weight of a pitiless purpose. " Hearken ! " he said ; " we have well-nigh done with boys' play. I have paid for yonder parchment, ten-fold the price that might have saved thy fool's head from gibbet or block marry, it might have ransomed a belted earl ! Shall it be for naught that I have let pass away the lands stout Oliver Dynevor won ? I tell thee Nay. Thou art free, as thou seest, to woo and 'wive again. Either this night thou shalt swear, with hand on altar, to wed Malpas' daughter as soon as he and I shall deem it be- coming never stirring meanwhile beyond his domains and mine own or, before another sun- down, by Christ's body ! it shall have fared with thee, worse than ever it hath fared with malapert 32 BRAKE SPE ARE. vassals. I wis, thou hast seen me deal with such ere now." Simon Dynevor could be obstinate enough in his own saturnine way ; but he had not the savage self-will and dogged courage of the old wolf who begot him. No marvel, that at those last words he shivered. He felt they carried no vain threat that he was utterly in the power of one who feared not God, neither regarded man. Moreover, it was possible that satiety had begun, though he knew it not, to sway his brutal nature. He might have been content to dwell on for ever with Maude ; yet she no longer seemed worth the risk of life or liberty. So, without more ado stipulating only that fair maintenance should be insured to his divorced wife and her child, should it be born alive he expressed himself ready to follow in all things his father's will. That same day Philip Kemeys rode forth again, bearing a letter, writ in Simon Dynevor's own hand, and a gipsire crammed with bezants. The ancient esquire had served his master not less faithfully for evil than for good, and had taken THE WORKING OF THE RESCRIPT. 33 part ere now in some black misdeeds : but lie went on this errand with a great loathing and heaviness of heart, and never cared to speak of it in after-times. During all the hours of her husband's absence, Maude had been well-nigh distraught with terror ; nevertheless, she took the news of her deser- tion and shame with singular calmness. Only, as she deciphered, painfully, the curt, cold, cruel letter, with its set forms of remorse and formal farewells, the blood ebbed out of her cheeks : while she lived, it came back no more. She made no loud moan or lamentation ; neither did she send back one word or message to the man who had done her such deadly wrong. But she bade Philip Kemeys " begone with his gold ; for that her own kinsfolk, she doubted not, would henceforth grant her food and shelter ; and that, were it otherwise, she would go forth into the highways, and ask alms of passers-by, rather than trust to a Dynevor's bounty." She said this without any display of passion or bitterness; yet there was a look in her bright, tearless VOL. I. D 34 BRAKESPEARE. eyes that made the esquire right willing to escape from her presence. Sir Ralph Warenne chanced to be then tarry- ing at his lodging near the Abbey Church of Westminster: and before nightfall he had con- veyed his cousin thither, and given her into the charge of his own sister, a discreet and charitable widow who governed his household. The choleric old soldier espoused his kins- woman's cause with great heat and rancour : nor could Maude's piteous entreaties withhold him from sending cartel to Bever, wherein he spoke of both father and son as disloyal faitours; offer- ing to prove the same on both or either of their bodies. To which Dynevor made answer, that " Those two had bound themselves together without leave or licence from him; and that, though he was well pleased to see them asunder, the work was not his doing, but the will of Holy Church, against the which he trusted a Christian knight would not array himself. Yet were it otherwise, neither he nor his would draw THE WORKING OF THE RESCRIPT. 35 sword in such a quarrel, save to guard their own lives or goods, and would be content to under- lie Sir Ealph Warenne's challenge." This politic reply made the other chafe more savagely; but just then arose such a public turmoil, as left no man leisure for private brawls. In that September set sail from Dordrecht, Isa- bella the Queen, with Mortimer her paramour, and John of Hainault, her true knight ; and, with three hundred men-at-arms, marched westward from Orwell Sands, till she besieged her husband with a mighty host. Now Ralph AVarenne had grown aweary of the king's caprice and favourite's insolence ; so he joined the advancing army readily enough, with all the lances he could muster ; and, after Bristol leaguer, went northward on the queen's behest, only returning to Westminster in January to see the third Edward crowned. He had not been so moved for years as when they told him, on dismounting at his own door, that Maude "Warenne had died in child- bed but a week before, leaving a health}' D 2 36 BRAKESPEAHE. boy. The bluff soldier felt very keenly the loss of the pale delicate woman, whose existence he had never heeded till of late. He caused the child to be christened after his own name, and swore a great oath, that he would some day adopt it as his own; for up to three-score Sir Ralph had found no time to Aved. Before that year's leaves were brown the good knight's wars were ended. When they inarched northward to chastise the Scots ma- rauders, Warenne was already greatly trusted by the young king, and attached to his household. One hot August night, as they lay on the banks of Wear, Sir Ralph had lain down to rest in his tent touching the royal pavilion it was not his turn to keep watch when a familiar war-cry mingled with his dreams : struggling up from under the folds of canvas and tangled tent ropes, he found himself face to face with the Douglas. Black James, in many points, was the very mirror of chivalry ; yet he spared not to dis- charge on the bare head of his old antagonist THE WORKING OF THE RESCRIPT. 37 one downright niace-stroke, which settled for ever their long and doubtful balance of hard blows. The great pendulum is often swinging steadily and evenly enough, when such as read not the dial aright, deem that it keeps uncertain time. Before the motherless baby lost his second pro- tector, there was heavy counterpoise of retri- bution. When Sir Giles caused his son to swear that he would wed Malpas' daughter so soon as it was thought becoming, he knew well that there were many, even in that unscrupulous age, who would have cried shame, had the espousals been pressed on with indecent haste. He was well content to let things bide for a full year ; for he did not fear that the bridegroom would again try to break trammels. So, when Dynevor who took no part in the troubles of the autumn deemed it politic to make a late display of loyalty by at- tendance at the anointing of the young king, Simon rode to Westminster in his father's train, a free man to all outward seeming. 38 BBAKESPEABE. They tarried there not long three nights only yet long enough for the youth to hear (one of his fellow 'squires had a cousin in Warenne's household) of the birth which brought him a son, though not an heir, and of the death which made him doubly free. He received the news without any show of scrrow or surprise ; only, for some days afterwards, he was silent and morose even beyond his wont, and there was a deeper gloom on his downcast face. But all this while a certain frail life- thread, on which many hopes hung, was parting strand by strand. Edith Malpas seemed to wither as the wild flowers began to bloom ; her cheeks were almost livid at times in their paleness; and she pressed her thin hand often on her heart with a low moan of pain. But of these signs none took heed, unless it were perchance the girl's nurse and foster-mother, who stood in too great awe of Ivo's drunken furies, even to whisper her fears. It was within one week of the espousal day. Already preparations were far advanced at THE WORKING OF THE RESCRIPT. 39 Tj'ringham for a banquet that should cast past carousals into the shade. The morning meal at Bever was done, and Sir Giles was just starting for the neighbouring town, where he was to con- fer with certain cunning artificers concerning the bridal pageant : he stood waiting for his palfrey, stirrup-cup in hand. As he raised it to his lips, a man-at-arms rode into the courtyard at headlong speed. The great silver hanap fell clattering down, and the good liquor flowed out far and wide ; for the horseman's visor was up, and Sir Giles guessed from his face that he brought evil tidings. Before the messenger had faltered out half his tale, the purposes and plans of so many years were as though they had never been. Edith Malpas must have died soon after she lay down to rest the night before for that morning they found her stiff and cold. Sir Giles answered never a word ; but stood swaying slowly to and fro, like a drunkard, whose will still struggles against strong wine. Then the blood rushed up brow- J BKAKESPEARE. high in a dark crimson surge; leaving cheeks and lips ashy white, when it ebhed again as suddenly. He cast his hands aloft, clutching the air as men clutch at the water in their last drowning pang ; and, with one choking gurgle in the throat, fell down right under the horse's hoofs a helpless distorted heap. As they bore him away, the least learned in leech- craft, of all who stood by, guessed that their lord had been stricken down by swift and deadly palsy. He never spoke intelligibly after that; and showed token of absolute consciousness once only. In this wise The Abbot of Haultvaux, anxious that so large a benefactor to the Church should not lack her last good offices, and being himself ill at ease, sent the Sub-prior in his stead with profuse messages of condolence. Father Hildebrand's nerves were not easily moved by pity or fear; yet on the threshold of the sick-chamber he shrank back appalled. Over so much of Sir Giles' writhen face as the palsy had spared, there THE WORKING OF THE RESCRIPT. 41 swept an awful convulsion of hatred and loathing ; and his one uncrippled hand was clenched and outstretched in feeble menace or warning. The monk read those signs of passion aright. He guessed how the memory of the broad acres, sacrificed utterly in vain, was rankling then ; and felt his priestcraft powerless to grapple with the thwarted devil of avarice that glared out of those bloodshot eyes ; so, with scant ceremony or excuse, he departed out of the evil presence like a baffled exorcist ; leaving the chapellan of Bever to deal with the grisly penitent. So died Sir Giles Dynevor scarcely in the odour of sanctity. Nevertheless, his bones were laid with great reverence and honour under the chancel at Haultvaux ; and over them was built, at the sole charge of the House, a stately tomb of Sienna marble, bearing the effigy of that good knight with hands duly folded in prayer ; whereon, till the eighth Henry made havoc with the abbey and all appertaining thereto, might have been read an epitaph in fair monkish Latin, 42 BRAKE SPE ARE. of the which the last two versicles may serve for an ensample : S&axtt : itraj: : in : yatt : tfaflaj: : Ijutc : tile : Sxtctta < : fit tate : ua : muncra : larjja : Irctftt. CHAPTER IV. THE BREEDING OF THE BASTARD. THE heir of Bever bore the loss of his father and his own accession to the family honours, with singular calmness, not to say indifference. Neither did it seem likely, that his house would he much advanced by his care for its honour and dignit} T . In truth, had Simon been endowed with all the energy and ambition of his sire, both must needs have been cramped by the unhappy disaster which befel him, before he had been three full years in possession of his inheritance. Returning home one frosty evening, his horse floundered on the slippery stones before the barbican; and Dynevor was carried in with a broken thigh, and hip so sorely strained, that a better chirurgeon than the unskilful leech 4i BRAKESPEARP:. who tended him, wouljj scarce have saved the patient from halting thenceforth. "Whilst still in the spring of life, he was cut off from all share in the wars and sports of his peers ; for neither in tourney, chase, or melee, can place be found for one who may not sit saddle-fast : from courtly pageant, or pastime, he was yet more estranged, for out of such metal never was moulded squire of dames. The bearing of that heavy cross might per- chance have warped a kindlier and more patient nature ; so it is no marvel if Dynevor grew up to middle age a soured and morose man not absolutely a domestic tyrant or brutal despot; yet over apt to vent his evil tempers in a slow, sardonic fashion, on such as were bound to endure them. Some short while before his mishap, Simon Dynevor had sent sufficiently courteous messages to Ralph Warenne's surviving sister; thanking her for her charitable care, and proffering thence- forward to take the child in charge. To this Dame Margaret assented very readily : she was THE BREEDING OF THE BASTARD. 45 left something straitened in means, and had no mind to keep needless incumbrances. The little Ralph was brought home -to Bever, along with Gillian, his fostermother ; whose husband was slain, hard by his lord, in that night- surprise on the % banks of Wear. The same Gillian was very comely to look upon, and still in her early prime : by the time her nursling could be trusted alone, she was married again to one of Dynevor's foresters, and settled in a cottage of her own, some few bowshots from the castle. In that cottage Ralph Fitzwarenne (thus the boy, by the will of his dead godfather, had been christened), spent much of his early boyhood. The conscience of Simon Dynevor seems to have been satisfied so soon as his son was fairly in his charge ; and, after that one act of grace, the meanest of his household was not treated with more utter neglect. While she lived, Dame Alice Dynevor showed no small kindness to the child; for she had liked his mother well, in her own staid austere way, and despite her belief in the deceased Sir Giles' sagacity, and 46 BRAKESPEARE. her reverence for Holy Church's behes k t she could not but fear that Maude had been hardly dealt with. Neither could she ever wholly put aside certain vague self-reproaches for negligence, in not having stood more heedfully betwixt the dead and her own son. She did her best to instruct the boy in such simple lore as she her- self had attained : but she could scarcely spell over her own missal ; whilst monkish legends made up her history. To these long-winded discourses Ralph would sit listening gravely for hours, never once indulging in a yawn of weari- ness ; in those days he was too grateful for any loving word or look, not to be ready to repay such by a harder self-denial than this. The orphan for such in very truth he was had one other ally at Bever. Rheumatism and many old wounds had so far told on Philip Kemeys, as to make him more fit for home service than foreign wars ; though be- twixt the pains that ever and anon crippled him, he could wield axe, or sword, or lance, as starkly as of yore. The ancient esquire, from the day THE BREEDING OF THE BASTARD. 47 when at his dead master's bidding he carried that message to Maude Warenne, had been pos- sessed of a vague remorse the more strange, because his conscience carried, with much ease and comfort, the burthen of many seemingly blacker deeds. He never told this to his con- fessor, and, perchance, would not have owned it to himself. But if Kalph had been his favourite son, he could not have ministered more sedu- lously to his caprices, or trained him more care- fully in each manly sport and martial exercise for which he himself was renowned. Before the boy was sixteen, he was left once more utterly lonely; for, in the same winter, the devout lady and the godless old soudard went to their several accounts ; and their pupil regretted the sinner far more than he did the saint. Some three years earlier a great change had come over Bever. Though Sir Simon Dynevor cared little for the advancement of his house, he knew that it behoved him to wive again, if only to purvey himself with heirs-male. His choice fell 48 SHAKESPEARE. on the Lady Ursula Montacute a damsel, neither fair, young, nor richly dowered; but of morals unimpeached, and stainless descent the sister of a neighbouring baron. The Lady Ursula was born with a quick tem- per and shrewish tongue ; and long waiting for tardy wooers had helped to sour the one and sharpen the other. She chose to rule her new household less by love than" by fear being careful only to never thwart her sullen lord. Ralph Fitzwarenne, for reasons not hard to guess, she held in special aversion, and lost no chance of stinging him with bitter words, or of bringing him under his father's displeasure : twice or thrice she caused the boy to be severely scourged by the castle chapellan ; for Sir Simon himself never laid his hand upon the boy in anger. Once, in early marriage days, she ventured to hint that his very presence and maintenance in the castle was a grievous insult to herself ; but she was bidden to " hold her peace, and not presume to meddle ; " whilst an ominous look from under her husband's brows THE BREEDING OF THE BASTARD. 4U warned her she had gone too far. She broached that matter no more. But Ralph was wondrously hard and stubborn. Of taunts, or reproofs, or stripes, he took no more heed than of an April shower : if he was chary of smiles, and seldom laughed aloud, neither man nor woman since his early childhood had heard him wail or seen him weep. When the chiding or chastisement was over, he would betake himself straight to the cottage of his foster-mother, and bide there till curfew. Even to her he made no complaint ; only at such times he was most eager to hear the only story of which he never wearied the story of his dead mother and her wrongs. As he listened to the simple tale, varied only by some trifling incident, that most would have thought not worth recording the boy's face, that had never changed during his own punishment, would lower and darken strangely. His big brown eyes would gleam with a malignant fire, and there broke from his lips certain muttered words that made Gillian cross herself, and aver that she would speak of these TOL. I. K 50 BRAKESPEAKE. things no more. But she did speak of them again and again, and thus, unwittingly, kept alive the embers of a bitter enmity. So the years went by, till Ralph grew into a tall sinewy youth, overtopping his sire by a full head, and looking gigantic beside the puny fractious urchin, the sole issue of the second marriage. Sir Simon's bearing towards his first-born was somewhat perverse and inconsistent. He rather encouraged than otherwise the pursuit of those bodily exercises, in which the youth showed already a rare excellence. Ralph had always horse and hound ready to his hand, and coin enough to enable him to mingle, after a modest fashion, in the amusements of the country-side. But, when Dynevor sent forth his vassals to war, under command of the Lord Montacute, his brother-in-law, Ralph was constrained to tarry at home, and practise at the quintain with blunted lance, while his comrades were shivering grinded spears. How he chafed under such idlesse how his spirit burned within him when, in the long THE BREEDING OF THE BASTARD. 51 winter evenings, youths not older than himself boasted or jested of what they had done in spring or summer beyond the narrow seas how the flaunt of banner, the sound of trumpet, and the rattle of steel, haunted his waking and sleeping dreams may be more easily conceived than told. But he was too proud and stubborn ever to require the reason of his father's caprice much less to pray him to change it. It may well be that Sir Simon only waited to be entreated : but he waited in vain. So betwixt these two ripened day by day an evil crop of distrust and dis- content, and the harvest-time could not be long a-coming. All this while the wars were waging in Flan- ders and Normandy with varying fortunes ; till at last the heart of broad England leaped up as the heart of one man at the news of Creey ; when grinding taxes, rough exactions, and broken promises were all forgotten in the first great success of the brave, patient king. In the same autumn, too, was won a notable victory ; the like whereof hath seldom been seen, since on E 2 52 BRAKESPEARE. Rephidim the Lawgiver's hands were stayed up till Amalek was smitten hip and thigh about the going down of the sun. Nor is it wonder if at Neville's Cross, where queen and noble, knight and j r eoman, gained large store of honour, to the Church Militant was given the chiefest share. For, to sound of matin-song, chanted from Durham tower, the annies were set in array ; monk's frock fluttered side by side in the ranks with archer's gipon; and, in the very fore- front of the fight gleamed bishop's rocket, though Mowbray, Dacre, and Percy laid their lances in rest. To the tidings of these feats of arms, when they came in due course to Bever, Ralph Fitz- warenne gave attentive ear. He spoke little at the time; but thenceforward day by day grew more taciturn and reserved, and withdrew him- self from the sports and pastimes in which he had heretofore delighted; going forth alone to hawk or strike a deer ; and in all ways rather avoiding than seeking the company of his fellows. The change in the youth's demeanour escaped THE BREEDING OF THE BASTAED. 53 not Sir Simon Dynevor, and his sharp, suspicious glance dwelt more often than was its wont on his son's face, while the other's eyes would flash back something akin to defiance. So through winter and early spring the pair lay watching each other; like wary commanders, each within his own entrenchments, waiting, perchance, the opportunity to make sally. CHAPTER V. AN HAGARENE. EAKLY on a breezy March day Sir Simors Dynevor sat in his judgment-seat a huge arm- chair, drawn into the embrasure of a window looking westward from the dais of his hall. Close to his shoulder stood the Lady Ursula shrill and voluble in accusation clasping to her side a sallow, hard-featured boy, some ten years old, the very image of herself, whose grief was yet more clamorous than her own invective. Only two others were in presence the chapellan of the castle and Ralph Fitzwarenne. Whilst the lady's eloquence was in full tide,, her husband raised his hand impatiently : " I prithee hush, ma mie ; thou art too dis- tempered to tell thy tale. And, Oliver, still that fool's tongue, or thou shalt have good cause for AN HAGAKENE. 55 whining. Father Clement, it seems thou hast witnessed such and such things. Speak on, in the fiend's name ! " Thus rudely adjured, the other gave his testi- mony with some haste and tremor. Yet in his tone there was a bitterness scarcely dissembled. Plainly the priest owed Fitzwarenne an ancient grudge, and was right ready to pay it. He averred that, reading his breviary in his chamber, he had been disturbed by a great outcry and by the baying of the sleuth-hound bitch chained in the base-court below ; that, looking forth, he had seen his young Lord Oliver haled along, not without violence, by Messire Ralph, and finally flung under an arch- way, where, some moments later, he (Father Clement), descending in haste, found the child making piteous moan. But the door leading into the base-court was shut and barred, and Messire Ralph had gone he knew not whither. Then for the first time Sir Simon Dynevor's sullen glance lighted on the accused. As that youth shall be the hero of this our tale, 56 BKAKESPEARE. it may be well to set down here his outward seeming. Though his features were neither coarse nor ignoble, they were too strongly marked and roughly-hewn for beauty. It was a quiet reso- lute face ; far too grave and stern indeed for his years, even when his brows were not bent in thought or anger. His head fringed with short crisp hair, some shades darker than his eyes, where a reddish tinge mingled with the brown was well set on a short clean-cut neck, and looked smaller than it really was, from his great breadth and squareness of shoulder. Though only in his twentieth spring, his joints seemed already set, and with each careless movement of the long sinewy limbs, the coils of hardened muscle showed themselves under his close hunting-dress. There was little of culprit or penitent, indeed, about the demeanour of Ralph Fitzwarenne, as he stood there haughtily erect ; seeming to dwarf every other figure in that group. "Thou hast heard" Dynevor said. "Hast AN HAGARENE. 57 t aught of excuse or denial to urge ; or speaks the priest truth?" " Truth, after the fashion of his order " the youth answered. " That is, half truth, or so much as suits him to tell : yet, maybe, he saw not all. He saw not yonder pretty poppet, goading F&y with a steel- shod hunting-pole, till her muzzle was all a-gore. Rare sport, i' faith : but it well-nigh came to bitter earnest. He held himself safe * beyond the sweep of her chain ; but, when I came, the staple was dragging from the post. Yet another minute, and Fay had avenged her- self in her own fashion. This runs in her blood : when fairly wode they will turn on him that feeds them, if he come betwixt them and their wrath. Would'st have me dally, when I saw that the brache hearkened no more to my voice than to the voice of a stranger ? Marry, when I hied back, not without ado got I leave to drive the staple home : she left her marks on me ere we were friends again." And drawing up his doublet sleeve, he showed a little above the left wrist, a deep row of fang 58 BRAKESPEARE. v marks; already black and swollen, though the skin was not broken : they were plainly the traces of a hasty chance snap, not of a gripe given in pure malice. Had the sleuth-hound's fangs been on her darling's throat, the Lady Ursula could scarce have raised louder outcry, than she did, hearing of his danger. But her husband hushed her again with his hand; and in his tone, as he made reply, there was a calm more ominous than passion. "Whence gottest thou yonder hound? And since when hast thou licence to keep under this roof of mine brutes from whom there comes peril of life and limb ? Had harm come to yonder child, thinkest thou amends had been made by the throttling of a score like thee ? " The young man's face began to darken ; and that evil light, before spoken of, came into his bright brown eyes. " She was Philip Kemeys' last gift to me. He travelled many a league to fetch her, when his mortal sickness was upon him; for AN HAGARENE. 5'J 1 from that day he sate never in saddle again. There is not her match as all thy foresters know betwixt Thames and the narrow seas. Moreover, she is the only thing that ever I owned, for which I was not beholden to thy charity. Her food and kennel-room she hath fairly earned: she hath saved thee many a deer. I had been right sorry had harm hap- pened to the child ; and I wot well that my life against his is, in thine eyes, like a cinder from the furnace against fine gold. Yet were it scant justice to demand of me the blood-price seeing that for his sport he put his neck in peril." " The brache dies by the halter ere noon " Sir Simon said. "And now I will speak of thine own matters. Lo ! I approve not what the boy hath done : but he hath been more than punished by the rough treatment he got at thine hands. Hadst thou no more reverence for him who, if he live, shall one day rule here in my stead, than to cast him aside like a mangy cur ? Didst thou forget that thou, whose beard is well-nigh 60 BRAKESrEARE. grown, \vert dealing with a weakling child ? Ay more. Hadst thou forgotten that, what is but petulance in the heir, is mere out re -Guidance in " With all his cynicism, he hesitated over the last brutal word. But the other took up the broken thread of speech quite unconcernedly. " In the bastard. 'Tis a simple name, and soon said: I wot not, why thou didst draw second breath over it. Nay, sir, my father, I have not forgotten ; neither am I likely to forget. I have heard the tale often enough to tell it without halting. I know how thou didst sit with folded hands, while others wrought shame to thy wedded wife ' wedded,' I say, in the teeth of monks and schoolmen and wrong to thine unborn child. I have been bred up by thy bounty for what purpose of thine own I may not guess ; since hitherto it hath not pleased thee to send me where honour or wealth is to be won, nor even to raise me to esquire's estate. Wert thou as weary of giving, as I am of eating, AN HAGARENE. 61 the bread of idlesse, thou wouldst let me fare forth to the wars, were it only as a mounted archer. It should go hard, but I would one day repay thee the charges thou hast been put to for me." Once more Sir Simon's eyes this time rather pensively than angrily rested on his first-born's face. " Thy speech lacks net reason " he said, after a long pause : " though, like thy demeanour of late, 'tis something masterful and over-bold. Grievous wrong was done before thy birth; though, by Mary's truth, I plotted it not, and would have stayed it had I been able. More- over, I have been in fault for keeping thee in paresse here : but I cared not, by setting thee amongst mine esquires, to breed in thee hopes which might not be fulfilled ; and I was some- thing loath to send forth thy mother's son as a simple man-at-arms. These things shall be mended, and that speedily. Either, thou shalt ride among my lances that are bonne to France under my kinsman of Montacute's banner, and <>2 BEAKESPEARE. win advancement according as he shall report of thy deserts ; or thou shalt go forth this day alone, with coin enow to purvey thee a stout horse and armour of proof, and some bezants to boot. But mark thou me. If this last be thy choice thou hast thy portion. Whether thy fortunes be made or marred, thou comest back hither no more ; for I and mine shall be held quit of thy maintenance for ever." The blood flushed up in Ealph Fitzwarenne's cheek, as he made prompt reply : " Sir, my father, the choice is soon made. I care not greatly to ride under my lord of Montacute's banner, or to win his good word; neither hoped I better hap, than to carve mine own road to honour. I trust not to misuse thy bounty, for the which I here render duteous thanks. Give me such portion as seemeth to thee good; and let us part in peace. Thus much I dare aver from this day, unless at thine own express behest, thou shalt look on my face no more, whether in life or death." Whilst his son was speaking, Dynevor's hand AN HAGARENE. 63 was laid on the silver bell that stood beside him : at the last words he rung it sharply. " Go thou to rny chamber" he said to the page who answered the summons " and fetch me hither the steel-wrought coffer that stands near my bed's head. And bid the seneschal assemble me here mine household, and such others as chance to be within the castle, whether vassals or villeins : it is my pleasure to speak with them presently." Sir Simon unlocked the coffer with a key he wore under his doublet on a thin silver chain, and from amongst certain leathern bags of coin chose out one the heaviest. Then he drew from the fourth finger of his left hand a chased gold ring, wherein was set a balass ruby ; and laid ring and bag on the table before him. " There is thy portion " he said. " Take it with my good leave ; and may God and our patron saint prosper it to thee. Yon ring was thy mother's only jewel; she willed that I should wear it the night we were wedded : it hath never left me till now." 6 i BRAKESPEARE. Kalph Fitzwarenne came near ; thrust the bag unopened into his gipsire ; and drew the ring on his finger, speaking never a word. At that moment he liked his father better than he had ever before done ; for his quick ear had caught a certain tremor in the other's measured tones, and his own heart was fuller than he cared to show. By this time the body of the hall was filling fast with the numerous household, amongst whom were mingled not a few dwelling beyond the castle walls, who chanced to be within them that morning for business or pleasure. In front of these, marshalling them into something like orderly ranks, stood the ancient seneschal, bearing his chain and wand of office, while the squires and pages gathered in a knot by themselves just below the dais. The Lady Ursula, somewhat overawed, albeit not displeased by the turn matters had taken had withdrawn herself further into the deep embrasure, whither her child and the chapellan followed. Then Dynevor arose and came forward, till he stood full in front of his AN HAGARENE. 65 retainers. His gait was slow, and his figure, even before the mishap which crippled and bowed him, had been somewhat ungainly : nevertheless, his bearing was not devoid of a certain dignity, as he made his brief, earnest oration. " Good friends and liegemen, and servitors of mine, whether free or bond ; I have called ye here this day, to be witnesses betwixt myself and this youth, whom ye all know to be my son, born in wedlock albeit in wedlock which Holy Church saw fit to disallow. Ye know, too, how, up to this hour he hath been nourished and trained at my charge if not with such honour as would befit mine heir, at least with such tendance as is not unworthy of my blood. And what I have given I have given, the Saints wot, not grudgingly; nevertheless, he goeth forth this day having received such a portion as contenteth him of his own free will, not driven by me. Now, I hold all ye here present to wit, that, even as I dis- charge him of all duty and fealty to me, so do I hold myself quit of all claim and clear of all duty towards him for ever. Furthermore, if any man VOL. I. F 60 BRAKE SPEARET. here present, beneath esquire's rank being of sound mind and able body shall choose to bear him company, he shall do this with my free leave. If such an one be villein, I will enfranchise him here before you; if he be free, he sh'all carry with him the full wages of a foot-archer for a year and a day." There was a sway and a stir in the little crowd' that filled the body of the hall ; and one came to the front who, after making obeisance, waited, as it seemed, to be questioned. He was a short, thick-set man, with an honest, heavy face, imperfectly lighted up by two pale grey eyes, and scarcely relieved by hair of the lightest flaxen, cut square across his low fore- head, and close round his bull's neck. His double joints and deep chest gave promise of vast, though, perchance clumsy, strength ; and as he stood there, his brawny bow-legs were planted, naturally, in the posture of a practised wrestler watching for the grip. On him Sir Simon looked with some surprise. " How now, Will Lanyon ? " he said. " Corner AN HAGAKENE. 67 the grist so slowly to thy father's mill, that thou must needs seek fortune by wandering thou knowest not whither ? I warrant that before a week is past thou wilt be homesick and wearying for the clack of the hopper. Moreover, I guess thy father would scarce approve this venture of thine." The other made answer in slow, sententious fashion, like one who, having few ideas to spare, is chary of their utterance. His voice was strangely deep and gruff for his years, which might have numbered some five-and-twenty. " I thank your worship, trade thrives apace. Nevertheless, if he will endure my company, I am minded to go forth with Messire Ralph this day ; and if I have your worship's good leave, of my father I will crave none. For his own plea- sure he brought home Cloudesley's shrewish widow before my mother's grave was green ; and I purpose to do mine own pleasure now, whether it like him or no. If I miss the clack of the hopper, I shall also miss the clatter of my step- dame's tongue : mayhap I shall sleep the sounder. F 2 I 68 BRAKESPEARE. Marry, if her tongue were all but this morning I had taste of her five fingers, and my cheek is red-hot yet. I care not to take hard blows with- out chance of paying them back in kind." " Ay, and is it so ? " Dynevor said, with his hard laugh, so like his father's; in which was much of gibe, little of mirth. " Light cause, methinks, to make a man leave hearth and home behind : yet doth a gad-fly chafe a war-horse quicker than a sore wound. I will not cross thy purpose, specially as thou art of full age, and free of aught save vassal's service ; come near, and take the year's wage whereof I spoke. If thou bearest thyself as starkly under shield as thou hast done at the wrestling and cudgel-pla} r , the king hath gained a stout archer, though I lose a trusty liegeman." When the silver marks had been counted out in due tale, and Lanyon had fallen back into his place again, Sir Simon turned, and beckoned to Ralph Fitzwarenne. As the youth drew near, and bent one knee, Dynevor's dark face softened more than, surely, it had ever done since the days of AN HAGARENE. 69 his first wooing; and he was fain to clear his throat twice or thrice, before he could speak steadily. " I bid thee farewell in all kindness ; and do thou think of thy father as little hardly as may be in the after-time. If the blessing of a right sinful man may avail thee, thou hast it freely : counsel I have none to give. I know thee to be honest ; and to one born of our blood there is no need to say ' Be bold ! ' I say only ' Be patient, and prosper ! ' In the name of the most Holy Trinity, and of St. Giles, our patron saint, so mote it be ! " Ralph Fitzwarenne laid his lips on his father's hand scarcely with a son's devotion, but rather like a vassal paying homage to his liege lord. As he rose to his feet, there was a mist over his own eyes, that for a second or two made the figures in the body of the hall look blurred and dim : yet in his bearing there was never a sign of weakness or regret as he strode swiftly to- wards the great doorway ; looking neither to the right hand nor the left and changing with 70 BRAKESPEARE. "none either word or sign. Close to his shoulder, just so silently, followed Will Lanyon. Not a few, as the pair passed through their midst, wished them "God speed" with bated breath. But neither squire nor servitor, vassal nor villein, presumed to stir frtfm his place till, some minutes later, Sir Simon Dynevor seemed to wake from a reverie, and with a wave of his hand gave them licence to depart. CHAPTER VI. f !HOW RALPH FITZWARENNE MET A HOLY PRIEST BY THE WAY, AND WOULD NONE OF HIS BLESSING. So, out of the crowd and shadow, those two passed through the sunlight of the empty court ; till, under the outer archway, Fitzwarenne halted and spoke, looking earnestly into his follower's eyes " Honest Will, I pray thou mayst never .repent having cast in thy lot with mine. Hearken now, if thou be minded to say farewell to thy father, or any other, do so quickly ; I will tarry at the cross-roads till thou come; mine own leave-takings are well-nigh said, and I shall not draw free breath till Bever is a league behind us ; but cumber not thyself with change of garment, and such like. Here is gold enow for both our furniture, if we win safe to South- 72 BRAKESPEARE. wark ; till we know whither we wend, and with whom, 'tis hard to tell what we may need." " I thank thee, Messire " the other answered gruffly : " I care for leave-takings no more than thou. If Gaffer Lanyon be vexed by the news he will hear this day, he will drink another pottle or two to-night, and to-morrow it will be all one ; and should Cicely, the tanner's daughter, be moved to shed some few tears, there are fools enow left in Bever hamlet to dry the jilt's blue eyes. I wot well that London is thy mark ; so let us forward, as soon as thou wilt. The roads are heavy with the late rains : yet thou and I have compassed harder journeys, than shall bring us this night to Tunbridge Town." " Then do thou set on forthwith " Kalph said. " I have yet another errand to do here ; and I would speak a word to my foster-mother, whose cottage lies not a bowshot out of the way. I will overtake thee before thou comest to the cross- roads." Lanyon nodded his head, and went forth with- out further question; while the other turned CHANGE OF SCENE. 73 aside into a vaulted passage leading to the base- court where the sleuth-brache was kennelled. Fay was lying outstretched in a broad bar of sunlight that fell within the sweep of her chain. She was still looking somewhat sullen and grim ; but at the sound of her master's steps she lifted her head, and greeted him with a low whine of pleasure; she was quite conscious of having done amiss, and longed to show penitence in her own way. Ralph knelt down by his favourite and caressed her : murmuring in her ear the while " Thou mayst not bear me company; and for one of thy temper homes are hard to find. Lo ! I come to do thee the last good office. ' The halter' did he say ? Nay cold steel whenever our time shall come; but no cord for me or mine. Brave Fay, staunch Fay kiss me once more." Slowly and half-reluctantly, as though she understood the words, and guessed what was a-coming, the great bloodhound reared herself, till her tawny jowl and black muzzle rested 74 BRAKESPEARE. against his shoulder and cheek. Ealph's eyes were not misty now, but glistening wet ; yet he faltered not in his purpose a whit. With his left hand thrown around Fay's neck, he felt for the pulse of her heart, whilst his right drew the dagger stealthily from its sheath, and drove it home so surely that, without a howl or moan, the hrache slid down out of his grasp, and, after a single convulsion, lay stone-still. - No drop of blood followed, till Ralph very gently and heedfully drew forth the blade ; then, despite of his care, some three or four heavy gouts spirted on his wrist, leaving broad dark stains on the green sleeve of his hanseline. And these things were so quickly done, that the foremost of those, who just then came streaming forth out of the great Hall, barely caught the flutter of Ralph Fitzwarenne's short mantle, as it vanished under the arch of the barbican. Over the youth's interview with his foster- mother we here need not linger : in truth, though fond even to foolishness, on one side at least, it was soon ended. Long before Will CHANGE OF SCENE. 75 Lanyon had fully gathered his sluggish wits out of the maze into which they had wandered, he had been overtaken by the other; and the two strode on swiftly side by side, each with hunting- pole in hand. They might have gone some league or so, when a sharp turn in the road brought them face to face with three travellers, one of whom was mounted, whilst the other two followed a-foot. At sight of these Fitzwarenne halted, looking to the right and to the left, as though he would fain have avoided the meeting. But the banks on either side rose steep and woody, and there was scarcely foothold on the slippery clay ; so he waited with brows clouded and overcast, whilst the others drew near. The foremost personage has been painted before. It was no other than Hildebrand, some time Sub-prior of Haultvaux now, its mitred abbot. Twenty years had worked little change in his keen face and lean frame; only some deep lines had grown into furrows, and the strong black hair round the tonsure had waxed 76 BRAKESPEARE. thin and iron-grey; but the braced lips were resolute, and the glance restless as ever. The very mule under him was characteristic of the man. Not a sleek pampered ambler such an one as hath been affected by all saintly dignita- ries since the days when Jewish rulers rode upon white asses but a gaunt, sinewy beast, with a red, vicious eye, whose rough action would have suited none but hardened bones a beast that would have tired down many knightly coursers between sunrise and sundown ; its long stride though the pace was scarce beyond a swift Avalk sorely tried the wind and limb of the two sturdy lay-brethren who, with frocks girt up knee high, followed closely as they might. On high and solemn occasions few surpassed the Abbot of Haultvaux in pomp or parade ; but, when borne on his own affairs, he cared for none of such vanities; and now, with his simple riding garb, he looked rather like some staid franklin, than a spiritual peer. Lanyon made low obeisance as the Abbot drew nigh; but Ralph barely touched his cap, CHANGE OF SCENE. 77 as he stood aside out of the narrow roadway. Yet the churchman spoke with his wonted cool courtesy, never noticing, as it seemed, the irre- verence of the youth's salute. "We give thee good-morrow, fair son. On whose business art thou and honest Will Lan- yon faring forth ? On pleasure ye can hardly be bent; since 'tis no weather yet for wrestling- match or quintain-play ; and thou hast with thee neither hawk nor hound. Nevertheless, thou wilt be home ere nightfall, we wot. Wilt thou save us time and trouble by delivering to our good friend, Sir Simon Dynevor, a brief message which we will presently teach thee ? For we have far to ride, and much to do, ere even-song." Fitzwarenne looked full in the speaker's face always with the same lowering on his own. " I am forth on mine own business " he an- swered " and for junketing, I have had little heart of late. Also it will be long ere I hollo again to hawk or hound. But your lordship must seek some other messenger to Bever than Lanyon or myself; for thither do I return 78 BRAKE SPE ARE. no more ; neither will he, I think, for many a nionit to come." " Is it even so ? " the Abbot said, bending his brows. " Truly, we boded no good of the stub- born temper we have noted in thee of late. Hath some unhappy brawl Sancta Maria, what mean those dark stains on thy sleeve ? " " There hath been no brawl" the other replied: " only the clatter of some shrill shrewish tongues ; and my doublet is stained with no redder blood than that of a trusty sleuth-hound, whom I slew but now to save her from the halter. Also, I go forth with Sir Simon Dynevor's good leave if that may advantage me and we parted, not in anger. But, I marvel that your reverence's mind should cumber itself with my matters. We, too, have far to go ere we sleep, and under your favour, we have dallied here too long." " Nay, then, we detain thee not. Draw nearer, my son, and bow thine head. Though it were more seemly for thee to crave, than for us to proffer it, thou shalt not lack our blessing." CHANGE OF SCENE. 79 And, as the Abbot spoke, he stretched forth his right hand. + Then Ralph Fitzwarenne drew himself yet more erect; whilst through the darkness of his face flashed out enmity, open and defiant. " Some six times " he said, in a low, bitter voice " have I come to Haultvaux, since I knew evil from good always in Simonr Dynevor's company, or on his errands but I never broke bread nor drunk water there. I would liever bear the burden of mine own skis, than have them lightened by thee. Do I not know how and where the plot was hatched, that robbed my mother of her good name, and me of my birth- right ? Twas not for naught, that the landmarks were shifted in that same year. Marry seeing the manner of man he was, and how he was outwitted at the last 'tis wonder that my grandsire should rest quietly in his grave. Lord Abbot, I owe thine order a shrewd turn; and maybe, I shall repay something thereof ere I die. Albeit, the heaviest accompt may never be cleared the accompt betwixt me and thee." 80 BBAKESPEAEE. The lay brethren crossed themselves in devout horror, and Will Lanyon's ruddy cheek paled : it seemed as though all three expected' that such blasphemy would draw down some instant manifestation of Heaven'svvvrath. But the Abbot's countenance betrayed neither anger nor surprise ; and his lip curled in a cold, dis- dainful smile. " Thou art fctraught utterly distraught in thy folly. Granting such and such things were done in those days, how darest thou impute either the shame or the honour to me ? Did not Abbot m. , Anselm God rest his soul ! rule at Haultvaux then ? And was not I the simple Sub-prior ? " " Go to-.! " the other retorted. " D-O not all men know that the holy man's heart was soft as his brains ; but that, when it behoved to grind the poor or to oppress the weakling, there stood a wise counsellor ever close to his ear ? Good father; I wis the change was more in seeming than in truth, when thou didst don alb and mitre." The monk bowed his head, in real or affected CHAN'GE OF SCENE. 81 humility. " Truly, well," he said, " is it writ- ten Beati sunt mortui. 'For not alone do those blessed ones rest from'*their labours, but they garner all the grain they have^bwn, whilst others must needs gipther in the tares. Over the lintel of the fair almshouses yonder^Abbot Anselm's name is graven; and in the prayers of twelve devout widows it will be 'remembered for ever. Yel none guessed how patiently ghd long I strove with my sainted superior, till I wrought upon him so to dispend the surplus in our treasury ; rather than set another rose-window of painted glass in our church, where daylight hath troublfe enough to come steady. But, if aught was done in needful- severity and the Church must needs smite sometimes as well as heal against whom murmurs all the country side ? ' Out on the Sub-prior ! ' they say ; ' May God requite him this ! Doth not his face bewray that his heart is as the nether millstone ? ' Had Hildebrand been a portly priest, with a moist eye and a cheerful countenance, perchance he had lacked no man's good word. But let these things pass. It is not TOL. I. O 82 BRAKESPEARE. 'well that thoti and I speak further together; for I can profit thee naught. Nay more thou mightst be provoked into uttering what might hardly be atoned for. So pass on in peace. I would say a few words to this stout follower of thine, which I trust thou wilt not hinder." * As, with another slight salute, Fitzwarenne strode slowly away, the Abbot urged his mule some ten paces forward, so as to be beyond ear- shot of the lay brethren, and beckoned Lanyon to his side. " Look not so scared, good fellow "- he said " nor think that the rash speech of yonder misguided youth hath chafed us; or that we bear malice thereat. Truly, an evil ensample were we to our flock if we could not suffer pa- tiently a greater wrong. Nay, I would serve thy master for such must he be henceforward in despite of himself; and of this shalt thou pre- sently have proof. Do thou hold the mule's bridle : 'tis a skittish beast, and may not be left to its own devices." With that, the Abbot undid a pouch hanging at his right side, in which were several compart- CHANGE OF SCENE. '88 ments for different kinds of coin ; and, further, in the inner lining a small pocket so cunningly concealed that it might have escaped even se care- ful scrutiny. In this were four or five broad thinnish pieces of gfcld ; evidently bezants beaten out with a ' hammer, till no trace was left of effigy or legend. On one of these, with a sharp penknife drawn from another case holding writing implements, the priest proceeded to grave certain lines and dots, till the result was something resembling an ancient musical score, except that the dots were in the spaces instead of upon the lines, as thus : While these things were a-doing, a certain distrust mingled with the wonder of Lanyon's G 2 8-1 BRAKESPEARE. broad grey eyes, as though he had been watching some wizard at his work. " It is no charm, thou simpleton " the Abbot said scornfully, though not unkindly, as though aware of the other's suspicions. " Know that the Holy Church dealeth not in such matters, leaving spell and talisman to the misbelieving magicians. Nevertheless, do thou hang this token around thy neck ere thou sleep, and keep it secretly as thou mayst with no less care than if it were relic of saint or martyr ; for much may it advan- tage thee in foreign lands, to which, I guess, ye both are bound. Thou comest of the right bull- dog breed, and will never be far from thy master's heel in weather fair or foul ; so that, if he lie in sore peril, thou thyself mayst be in as evil case. Now, mark. If ye be come to such a pass that there is no hope of help from man, and ye have brief time to make your peace with God, do thou show this gold piece to the priest that shall shrive thee ; adjuring him, by his vow of charity, to carry it straight to his superior, or the church- man highest in authority, that shall chance to be CHANGE OF SCENE. 85 near. If the token be discerned by one who hath the power of life and death, or whose intercession may avail, I dare aver that ye shall both go forth for that once scot-free. Ay, though which Heaven in its mercy forfend ! there be holy blood on your hands, or the guilt of sacrilege upon your souls. But use this warily, and only at uttermost need ; for thou canst not use it twice. 'Tis but a chance : it may be that thou wilt fall in brawl or battle before thy master; and yonder coin may swell some camp-follower's plunder. But all this life of ours is made up of what men call chances. What we have said thou mayst carry to thy master, if thou wilt : yet thou wilt keep thine own counsel for awhile, if thou art wise ; it may be, in his stubbornness he would reject our good offices. Should he speak of these things with better understand- ing in the after-time, thou mayst tell him all; and tell him, moreover, that he hath not been forgotten in Hildebrand's prayers. Thou art not too proud to receive our benison ; take it, and go thy way with good hope and courage." 00 BRAKE SPE ABE. With a few muttered thanks, Will Lanyon took his humble leave, and made haste to over- take his master ; whilst the Abbot also set forward at a much slower pace than he was wont to ride musing, it seemed, as he went. " What said the shaveling to thee ? " Ralph asked, as the other came up. " He gave me much good counsel, and one piece of gold " Lanyon answered. None could have guessed at any secret behind, that simple stolid face ; and Ralph forbore any further question. Indeed, right little was said during all that long day's journey; for of those wayfarers one was by nature exceeding taciturn, and the other busy with his own thoughts. But they reached Tunbridge town ere sunset; and were on their road again early on the morrow, without aught having befallen them worthy of record. CHAPTER VII. HOW EALPH FITZWARENNE TOOK FEOM AN HONEST MAN HIS GOOD NAME. HOUR after hour those two journeyed on, com- passing hill and dale, rough and smooth, with the same swift, level pace, and breaking silence only at rare intervals with some trivial question or answer. Long before noon they had risen the crest of the Westerham downs, and were deep in the beechwoods that fringed then as now the steep chalk-hills. At mid-day they made brief halt by a wayside spring, to refresh themselves with the provender Lanyon carried in his wallet. Like most other Normans of pure descent, Fitzwarenne was sparing both in his eating and drinking : his meal was finished before his com- panion's appetite was half appeased. After bath- ing hands and lips carefully in the running stream, he said 88 BRAKESPEARE. " Will Lanyon, two things have I noted in thee, not without some wonder. Since we crossed the drawbridge yestermorn, never once hast thou turned thy face backwards, were it but for a single glance over thy shoulder; and, further- more, thou hast never questioned me concerning mine intents, or whither we wend when we set forth again from London town." " Good faith, messire " the other answered, gruffly, without breaking off the play of his busy jaws "there is little cause for wonderment. Wherefore should I look back, when I leave naught behind but trouble ; and wherefore pester thee with questions as to our road, when all are alike to me, so they lead not homeward again ? My good lord, your father, hath bestowed on me certain wage, which I would fain work out honestly. I wot well, it will not please you to tarry idling long : beyond the narrow seas there is most a-doing ; therefore I guess we shall cross them anon." " Thou art wiser or hardier than I " Fitz- warenne replied. "If mine eyes travelled not CHANGE OF NAME. 89 backwards, my thoughts did so oftener than I care to own. Also, thou hast guessed rightly that I am heart-sick of tilt-play, and would fain hear shivering of grinded spears. There will be naught stirring yet awhile in Borderland; for the Scots wolves lie licking their wounds, and will scarce make sally whilst they are stiff and sore. But King Edward still holds Calais in leaguer : from thence down to Languedoc there is work enow for all such as cry, ' St. George Guienne. There were shrewd gaps made in many companies at Crecy ; and, if we attain not to serve under Chandos or Manny, other good knights may well lack an archer and a man-at- arms. Hearken, now. I have pondered on many things during this our journey, and thus far my purpose is fixed. If thou goest to the French wars, thou goest not thither with Ralph Fitz- warenne." Lanyon's light blue eyes opened to their widest : the blankness of utter discomfiture over- spread his bluff face ; then it began to lower, and his tone was hoarse and sullen. 90 BEAKESPEAKE. " You will do your pleasure, inessire. I force myself on no man's company ; neither do I fear but that I shall be hired readily enow. Yet would I hear what fault of mine hath brought me into this quick disfavour." Fitzwarenne laughed a low genial laugh the pleasanter, perchance, because it came so rarely as he smote the speaker lightly on the shoulder. " I take shame to myself for paltering with thee, were it but for an instant. Am I a priest, too, that I should speak in parables ? Thou hast cast in thy lot with mine, and we sink or swim together, so long as thou carest to follow my fortunes ; they will be neither made nor marred by what I purpose to do. Ealph Warenne was a good knight and a charitable God rest his soul ! Had he lived on, I had been other than I am, and well content to wear till death the name he gave me ; but to none other of that kith and kin do I owe even a careless kindly word. There- fore, I care not to carry longer the surname that keeps alive my mother's wrong and mine : I will change it, so soon as I come across a better. If CHANGE OF NAME. 91 this displease tliee, speak thy mind frankly and fairly : if I rede thee aright, thou followest not the title, but the man." The cloud cleared from Lanyon's countenance more rapidly than it had settled there, and he grinned in broad simple glee. "I was wittol not to guess thou wert jesting, niessire. Take what name thou wilt, so it be one that Christian may bear, or English lips speak without stumbling : I warrant I soon shall like it as well as the old one, or better. Yea, if it please the saints, others shall know it too, an' they like it not, before our beards are grey. 'Twould be rare sport should we ride through Bever hamlet in the aftertime thou a belted knight, and I thine esquire, leading a stout clump of spears." " Tush " the other answered, half angrily; yet he smiled as he sprang lightly to his feet " Pratest thou thus to one who hath never seen colour of blood shed in anger ? Old Dynevor spoke sooth 'Cravens come not of our stock:' nevertheless, I profess to thee, I would my first stricken field were over, that I might know how 92 BRAKESPEARE. I shall bear myself under shield. But wishing, no more than fearing, brings the proof-time near. Let us forward : thou art ready, I see ; for, if thy stomach be not full, thy wallet is empty : I would be in Southwark ere sunset." Lanyon bent down and drank deep of the stream, lapping quick and noisily, like a thirsty hound; then he, too, arose, shaking the drops from his bushy beard, and followed the other, who had already moved some paces away. Thenceforward, without let or stay, the way- farers marched steadily on ; but the day was waning fast as they entered the outskirts of the suburb. A chill, gloomy March evening with threat of wilder weather yet, in the sharp, sudden gusts that brawled round gable and chimney, and whistled through the masts and cords of shipping, breaking the brown water into foamy wavelets as it met the strong ebb tide ; and in the lurid western sky, against which the towers of the great Abbey stood out black and frowningly an evening that would have caused most travellers to hurry on towards roof-bield. CHANGE OF NAME. 93 Yet Ealph Fitzwarenne, who had slackened his pace gradually during the last hour, loitered more and more, as though loath to reach his journey's end. It was not the awkward uncer- tainty of finding himself in a place utterly strange that caused him thus to dally; for he had ridden once forwards and backwards through Southwark in his father's train, on their way to and from the herbegage beyond Thames, where Dynevor was wont to abide ; and Kalph pos- sessed, to a rare degree, the quick eye and tena- cious memory for passing objects, which in some, form as it were, a sixth sense. He had already settled that they should lie that night at the sign of the Spur, a modest hostel of no mean re- pute : so he walked on slowly ; heeding not the clamour, hoarse or shrill, of the wayside vagrants, who had crawled forth from purlieus round the Clink to ply their trade of theft or beggary, till night should send them with less unclean beasts, to lie down in their dens. Neither did Fitz- warenne seem to notice the keen malevolent glances lighting on them as they passed certain 94 BRAKE SPE ARE. alehouses, round the doors of which evil looking men were lounging, with " cut-purse," or " cut- throat," written on every line of their villanous faces ; though from these groups, more than once, two or three detached themselves, following stealthily in the track of the strangers, till a look out of Lanyon's wary eye, and a yet more significant movement of his quarter- staff, made them slink back hastily : the game was fair, but too fierce and big for such curs to meddle with. The travellers might have advanced some three hundred paces up Kentish Street so the main thoroughfare into Southwark from the country was then calle'd when Ralph, who, despite his reverie, had not ceased to glance to the right and to the left, came to a full halt where the red light from a forge streamed across the already darken- ing roadway. A low two-storied house, with more lead than glass in the diamond panes of its upper windows, but wealth of wood in the projecting beams and broad brown eaves, under which there was shelter from sun or shower ; whilst a sort of pent-house CHANGE OF NAME. 95 shielded the forge from the full in-draught of the outer air ; against the wall over this was nailed a helmet of a fashion out of date so dark with rust that one could only guess of what metal it was wrought ; and above the lintel were carved, in rough straggling letters, these three words : jjnljn 3Srafccpearr, Armourer. There was the cheeriness of light and warmth that has made the smithy the favourite resort for idlers since the time of Tubal Cain; and cheery sounds, too, came from within, as two or three voices chanted snatches of a rude ditty that chimed in pleasantly enough with the ring of hammers. But not in these sights and sounds seemed to lie the attraction that kept the youth standing there, with his eyes fixed steadfastly on the legend over the lintel. Just then the master-armourer glanced up from his work, and guessing with quick trader's instinct at a likely customer in one, at least, of the pair that were lingering without, thrust the half-forged steel into the water-trough, and came 96 BKAKESPEARE. quickly to the front. He was a broad, burly man, something past middle age, with a merry eye, and full, moist mouth, whose smile ready, yet not a whit servile twinkled through soot and grime. "Give you good even, fair sir" he said, in a deep, mellow voice, the first sounds of which made one think involuntarily of the good liquors that make glad the heart. " Doth your worship, or yon stout follower of thine, lack aught in which John Brakespeare can serve ye ? These are not times in which such thews and sinews as yours lie idle. Mine own fighting days are done ; yet can I tell a right man-at-arms within a bowshot marry, 'tis no marvel; I have taken measure oft enow of such I know naught of my craft, if ye both are not bound to the wars. I deal not in the cunning work of Milan, yet can I give ye honest ware. Prove bascinet or hauberk with axe or sword-dent ; if ye can make more damage than mine hammer can amend within the hour, our bargain is naught, and I am a lying cozener." CHANGE OF NAME. 97 The direction of Ealph Fitzwarenne's eyes was changed ; for the last minute or so they had rested thoughtfully on the speaker's face. He seemed pleased with what he saw there, for he answered with more courtesy than was his wont he was generally rather cold and reserved with strangers. " Truly, good armourer, thou hast guessed partly aright, albeit thou doest us both over much honour. It shames me to aver that neither I nor this my comrade have as yet drawn blade in fair fight; nevertheless, it is our purpose to take service in the French wars. In such a case, I doubt not thou canst purvey me with harness such as a man may well trust unto, whose life is better worth the keeping than mine is like to be. But of this ware we will speak anon ; I have somewhat else to say unto thee now. Come thou hither with me, without ; I have some score of words for thine ear." There came a great wonder, and perchance the faintest shade of distrust, on the armourer's jovial face. Yet he hesitated not to do as he 98 BRAKESPEARE. was bidden ; but laying his brawny hands on the window-ledge, vaulted into the street with a nimbleness surprising for his weight and years. Fitzwarenne took him by the arm, and led him some few paces backward from the spot, where Lanyon leant on his quarter- staff in stolid patience, as having concern with none of these things. " Thou seest that ? " Ralph asked, pointing to the legend on which his own glance had lately been riveted. " Yon is thy name ? " " Surely I see it," the other answered still with the same puzzled look ; " and have seen it most days since first I crawled over yonder threshold. My father carved it rest his soul ' He and my grandsire marry, my great grand - sire, for aught I know have borne the same name. It hath brought us no great wealth, God wot, and no greater honour than that of honest craftsmen living by their toil ; but the good wife hath never lacked a Sunday kirtle, and the brats have meat enow to make them thrive, and I have ever a pottle of ale for a neighbour, or a cup of CHANGE OF NAME. 99 sack of holidays. So I know not why I should grumble or make moan. But wherefore is your worship curious concerning that poor name of ours ? " " Because I am aweary of mine own " Fitz- warenne answered, " and would fain change it. Thou knowest naught of me, and may believe or disbelieve, as thou wilt. But I swear to thee, by the Holy Eood, that not for fear or felony would I do this. Thy name caught mine eye as I passed, and it pleased me well : 'tis a fitting one to bear where hard blows are going. Lo ! I proffer thee no guerdon such things are not bought and sold yet I dare aver that, if I bring no great credit to thy name, I will bring it to no dishonour." He drew himself up as he spoke, with a ges- ture neither boastful nor defiant, but full of self- reliance and loyalty. John Brakespeare, who, in the course of his trade, had stood face to face with many knights and nobles, thought that he never had looked on a more gallant bearing : the last spark of suspicion vanished from his honest H 2 100 BRAKESPEARE. heart, but some simple wonderment still re- mained. " Tis a quaint fancy," he said, thrusting back the thick, tangled hair that fell low over his brows ; " nathless I wis it covers no malfeasance, and I care not to baulk it. 'Tis a tough, work- day name enough ; though, I warrant me, less high sounding than what your worship has borne heretofore. I am no wizard, to read the lines of hands or faces ; yet would I wager a harness of proof against an archer's hacqueton, that no drop of churl's blood runs in your veins." Ealph's brown cheek flushed a little as he made reply. " Gramercy for thy courtesy. Thou shalt hear of my lineage the more readily that thou hast asked never a question thereanent. My mother was cousin to Sir Ealph Warenne ; who, in the first year of this reign, died gallantly under shield, by the hand, men say, of the Black Douglas. She was wedded, with all due right, to Dynevor of Bever, though that wedlock the Church saw fit to disallow, on plea that they CHANGE OF NAME. 101 were within the degrees ; and from her death up to this hour have I been nurtured at his charges. But yestermorn set me free of all my duty to Dynevor, and lightened him, I trow, of a weary burden. I am adrift now, like a skiff on the deep sea, and henceforward for ever I have neither kith nor kin. So going forth to do my devoir, as I hope, and fighting for mine own hand I would fain carry a name bearing not the brand of bastard}'. Hast thou my meaning, or is there aught thou wouldst have made more clear ? " The armourer doffed bonnet, and made a rough obeisance. " I thank your worship, I have learned all that I care to know. I mind Sir Ealph Warenne well, and certain inklings of yonder sad tale came to mine ears ; for I had dealings with some of his household. I saw that armament set out that fared so ill in the North ; and I mind well how starkly the old knight reined his destrere, as he rode close on our boy-king's right hand. Marry, there was great dolour and moan when 102 BRAKESPEARE. men knew that he should come back no more. ' Bastard ' said ye ? By Saint Benedict, there lives not belted earl, betwixt Thames and Tyne, that can boast of gentler blood. Take my name, sith it pleases you, and the saints send you luck therewith ! Never, I wot, since my great grand- sire was enfranchised, had ' Brakespeare ' such chance of coming to honour." Ralph held out his hand, which the other, though he drew back at first, took and wrung heartily. " Then so shall it be. I lie at the ' Spur ' to-night : come thou thither at thy leisure, and we will drink a stoup of right Bordeaux wine over this our bargain, which in sooth will profit thee but little. Tush, man" he broke in im- patiently, seeing that the other was still oppressed by some shy diffidence " knowest thou not that I am ' Brakespeare ' for evermore, and have no more to do with Dynevor and "Warenne than thou ? Thou hast had many choicer boon com- panions, than one who has far to climb ere he reach esquire's estate. Furthermore, I would CHANGE OF NAME. 103 speak with thee concerning the matters whereof I shall have need so soon as I have taken ser- vice : it may be that I set forth at brief notice, and with scant time for furnishing. No more words : I shall expect thee anon." "With a wave of his hand, Ralph turned on his heel to rejoin his patient follower. The gesture was friendly and familiar enough; yet slightly imperious withal, as of one wont to see his bidding done undisputed. And so the honest armourer interpreted it, as he stood looking wist- fully after the tall figure receding fast up the dusky street. "I may not say him nay," he muttered; " but for all his fair words such company is not for the like of John Brakespeare. I warrant me, I shall feel as if they had set me down at our good bishop's table above the salt. By Saint Benedict, a proper youth! Bastard or no bastard, one would have thought ne'er a father in Eng- land but would have been proud of such a son ; either the wenches are blind in the Weald, or he must have left some sore hearts behind him. 104 BBAKESPEARE. If God will, I shall bear great news of him ere I die. There is work enow done for the nonce : I will go cleanse me of this grime, and don my holiday doublet and hosen, so that I shame yonder gallant as little as I may." " Mark me well " Ralph said to his com- panion, who walked close to his shoulder " I am Fitzwarenne no more, but Brakespeare by surname, to thee and all others whom it may concern. Canst thou learn the trick of it, so that thou keep thy tongue from slipping ? " " I will take good heed, messire " the other answered, betraying no whit of surprise. " 'Tis a simple word enough; and my tongue wags not so fast that it should babble astray." Almost as those last words were spoken, they came to their journey's end, and strode in through a low -browed archway into the courtyard of the Spur. CHAPTER VIII. OF THE COMPANY THAT RALPH, SURNAMED BRAKE - SPEARE, MET UNDER THE SIGN OF THE SPUR. SUPPER was over in the common room of the hostel, and the guests not numerous, as it chanced, on that especial night had broken up into groups ; some lingering at the board where they had eaten, others clustering at small tables, drawn nearer the hearth. The logs that burned bravely were useful, otherwise than for warmth ; or the great chamber, with its dusky walls and blackened beams, would have looked gloomy enough, lighted only by three or four of the clumsy oil lamps called mortiers, and by the rude torch-candles fixed on spikes on either side the doorway, that swirled and guttered in the fre- quent draughts. In the nook formed by the outer angle of the huge projecting chimney, and so somewhat in the 106 BRAKE SPE ARE. shadow, sat Ralph and his guest, the armourer a mighty stoup of Bordeaux wine betwixt them ; whilst on a settle hard by, Lanyon dozed in that half stupor that, when no care keeps men wake- ful, comes pleasantly to the hardiest wayfarer after long travel and a hearty meal. The good liquor had thawed the craftsman's shyness and unloosed his tongue ; so he was ready enough in answering to the best of his power the other's questions, and in tendering his advice. " An' ye would be ruled by me, messire, ye would not be hasty in taking service with the first that shall make proffer. There be some who ad- venture themselves in these wars, overmuch for plunder's sake ; and with such little honour is to be gotten, even if they 'scape the shame. I have accointance with certain knights and barons always in the course of trade who might serve thy turn bravely. But right few of such, I wot, are now on the hither side of the narrow seas ; for there is work enow in Guienne for all the lances that our king can spare from Calais leaguer. Truly, there is Sir Walter Rokeby a THE COMPANY AT THE SPUR. 107 leal knight and stalwart who is now at his lodg- ing beyond Thames, scarce healed of the sore hurt he gat at Neville's Cross. It may be he will be setting forth ere long ; I warrant me he will tarry at home, not an hour after he hath leech's leave to sit in saddle. Peradventure, my good word may profit you somewhat ; for Sir Walter hath shown me no small kindness, and calls me ever his trusty armourer." Whilst Ralph thanked the friendly speaker, the heavy door at the further end of the guest-cham- ber swung open quickly, as though thrust inward by a strong, hasty hand; causing the decent merchants and franklins, who formed the greater part of the company, to start from their grave converse or quiet games of tables to look at the new comer. In truth he was one to whom few men, and fewer women, would have denied a second glance, if only for his marvellous beauty. His face was a pure oval ; with a complexion of clear pale olive, features straight and finely chiselled, a mouth nearly perfect in form, though not in expression, and long, lustrous dark eyes, 108 BEAKESPEABE. naturally languid, but flashing out at times with animal ferocity. He was tall and powerful of frame, without the angular squareness which usually accompanies great strength ; and one would hardly have guessed at the stark muscle and sinew hidden under the delicate rounding of joint and limb. His dress of rich murrey cloth was of foreign fashion, and not disfigured by sleeves of preposterous length, or any other of the fantastic fopperies in which the English gal- lants of that time were prone to indulge ; while the careful trimming and studied arrangement of his silky beard and wavy hair both of an intense blue -black showed that the possessor of such rare personal advantages was disposed to make use of them to the uttermost. He was evidently not quite a stranger to some present there ; for, as he entered, there was a kind of flutter and murmur amongst certain of the staid burghers, betokening distrust and dislike, with perchance a shade of fear, just as you may see a whole rookery thrown into tumult by the sudden appearance of a sparrow-hawk. THE COMPANY AT THE SPUR. 109 It was manifest, too, that something had ruffled the new comer's humour, as he swung up the centre of the guest chamber ; glancing half inso- lently, half defiantly, to the right and to the left ; and cast himself down on the settle, in the corner corresponding to that where Ralph Brakespeare was sitting ; never deigning to notice the courtesy of the meek artisan, who yielded place to him hastily. Then he called for a stoup of Musca- dine ; and, long before it could have been brought, cursed the drawer for dallying in fair English enough, though with a soft foreign accent : when the liquor came, he fell to drinking, not in quick, greedy gulps, but daintily and slowly, savouring each drop as it glided over his palate. The stout armourer glanced at the stranger from under his brows with evident disfavour. " Whom have we here ? " he grumbled. " One of a marvellous goodly presence, pardie ; but a ruffler, I warrant me, if no worse. Loath would I be to drink with him in the dark, and yet more loath to play with him at the dice. Yon may well be the Italian who, as I heard but yester-even, won 110 BRAKESPEAKE. thirty silver marks of Josselyn, the Abbot's reeve, and picked a quarrel with him thereafter. Marry, had not help been near, the wittol besides losing his year's savings would have brooked the stab. By Saint Benedict, I like not such company ; and if my gossip, our host, were of my mind, he would have none such at the Spur." " I am partly of thine opinion " Balph answered, carelessly; " but I see not how he can concern us. We are not birds for his net, I trow. Go back, I prithee, to where thou brakest off talk but now, and finish yonder stoup, which is well- nigh drained. I have beckoned already to the drawer to bring hither another." The armourer complied, nothing loath. But, as he wiped his beard and prepared to re- sume converse he was slow and deliberate of speech the outward door swung open once more, this time timidly and cautiously, and there entered a girl, leading by the hand a white-haired man, somewhat bent with age or infirmity, who walked with the faltering, uncertain gait peculiar to the blind. There was no mistaking the pro- THE COMPANY AT THE SPUR. Ill fession of the pair; the threadbare cote-hardie, and the gittern, or rebecque, slung round his neck, betokened the minstrel ; whilst from her raiment of gay, contrasted colours, no less than from the instrument carried in her right hand, all knew the tymbestere. " 'Tis Gilbert the glee-man " John Brake- speare said, with a kind of gruff apology, seeing his companion's brow overcast at the 'fresh inter- ruption " with his granddaughter. It were charity to let them play out their play, an' you would have patience ; for they will take no alms unless they seem to earn them. Marry, I mind him as deft an archer as ever drew clothyard shaft; in the Scots wars got he that axe-blow which hath dazed his brain ever since, and left his eyes darkling : he hath no mean skill on his instrument, and she dances right featly, howbeit in somewhat strange fashion. Moreover, 'tis a good wench and a chaste, as I have heard true folk aver ; though it may seem likelier to find a pearl in Thames ooze, than virtue in a glee- maiden." 112 BRAKESPEARE. Ralph's face softened in contrition, as he made answer " I take shame to myself that I should have chafed but now. It fits me well a poor aspirant in arms to grudge charity to one who hath come by mischance, fighting manfully under shield. Let them play on with a good courage ; I promise that, when 'tis done, they shall not lack guerdon." To higher and holier places than hostels, in those days, minstrel, jester, and tregetour had easy access. It was clear that the entertainment about to take place was of no unusual occurrence here ; and perchance, others of less reputable sort were not uncommon. After the two had made lowly obeisance, the girl led her grandsire to a vacant bench, and moved forward herself to a clear space left in the centre of the guest- chamber, where no rushes were strewn. She looked singularly picturesque as she struck her first attitude her lithe, elastic figure, set off by a trim blue bodice quaintly broidered, drawn back, and poised firmly on the right foot whirl- ing the timbrel on one finger of the hand raised THE COMPANY AT THE SPUR. 113 above her head ; the firelight gleaming on her bright hair, braided with gay ribbons and glittering coins, and on her pretty, mutinous face, whose natural fairness of complexion had not altogether yielded to the tanning of sun and wind ; while the short, striped skirt gave liberal glimpses of a neat ankle and shapely leg, cased in scarlet hosen. After a brief prelude, the gittem-player broke into a wild, fitful measure slow for the most part, but sometimes quickened abruptly with which chimed in the jingle of the bells sewn to the dancer's dress, and at irregular intervals the clash and rattle of the timbrel. The performance differed materially from those of the same class then in vogue, and rather resembled those practised by the Moriscoes on the continent, but little known in England, the chief characteristics of which have probably been preserved by the modern Gitanas. There were none of the violent feats of activity, or displays of posture-making, in which the tymbesteres were prone to indulge ; and, though some of the ges- tures were provocative enough, none were coarse, VOL. I. I 114 BRAKESPEARE. immodest, or unseemly. Such as it was, the dance was a complete success : long before it was ended, the soberest spectators were ready to applaud, and to open their purse-strings. Before it had fairly begun, the dark stranger, who sat drinking alone, had roused himself from his reverie, and was watching the performer with something more than idle curiosity. As the last rattle of the rebecque died away, the girl made another obei- sance, lowly and gracefully, and went round for such alms as it pleased the audience to bestow, beginning at the lower end of the long chamber. She passed on, her timbrel growing heavier with silver esterlings and groats, till she reached the angle of the chimney where the Italian sat. As he thrust his hand into his gipsire, he glanced at the heap of small silver coins, and laughed con- temptuously. " Is that all the largess thou hast gathered hitherto from churl and trader, poverina mia? Here is a new broad florence for thee ; and, if thou wilt kiss me twice betwixt the lips, I will e'en double the guerdon." THE COMPANY AT THE SPUR. 115 As he spoke, his right arm was thrown sud- denly round the tymbestere's waist, and he half drew her on his knee. She was no country-bred wench, to start at a rude jest or innocent free- dom ; and the shyness of maidenhood perchance was gone before her cheek lost its bloom ; but there was a look in those evil, handsome eyes, that made her shrink back with an instinctive dislike and fear. " I pray you, set me free, fair sir," she said, trying to veil her terror under a seeming of mirth. " I deal not in such wares as you would chaffer for, and it were flat robbery to take your florence, sith a groat overpays our pains." He smiled, half in amusement, half in scorn, but his black, arch brows were bent till they nearly met ; and, drawing her down by main force closer and nearer, he whispered some few words in her ear. The girl's sunburnt cheek flushed up like flame ; she spoke never a word now, but dashed down her timbrel on the table near; and, bracing both her arms against the shoulders of her assailant, fought hard to get 12 lift BRAKESPEAEE. loose, panting far more than she had done in the heat of exercise, and casting over her shoulders piteous looks of appeal. The quick ear of the old minstrel caught the sounds of struggle, and some suspicion of the truth shot through his mazed brain ; he partly rose from his bench, but sank back again with a groan of helplessness, his lips quivering ner- vously, and his thin horny fingers plucking at the gittern -strings. Throughout the guest-cham- ber there was a stir and murmur of disapproval, and more than one cried " Shame ! " aloud : not a few there knew the girl and her grandsire well, and liked not to see her misused. The host of the Spur himself a fussy, obsequious man, with little or no authority under his own roof or elsewhere so far overcame his awe of the terrible foreigner, as to come forward and stammer forth a timid remonstrance. But the Italian cut him rudely short. " Meddle with thine own matters, friend " said he ; " and fetch me hither another flagon of Muscadine, with no such cursed twang in it as THE COMPANY AT THE SPUR. 117 spoiled the last. Have I travelled all these leagues to find Lucrece in shape of a glee- maiden, and Cato in a knave host ? I will deal with this damoiselle after my pleasure ; and I would fain see who shall gainsay me ! " His fierce eyes travelled round the guest- chamber with a challenge which for a while seemed to meet with no answer. Among the staid citizens and" franklins there assembled there were many who lacked not courage ; but it suited them not to show it in a tavern brawl, even in graver cause than the defence of a tymbestere. Suddenly a clear, quiet voice spoke " De par Dieu, that will I." And, shaking from his arm the armourer's warning grasp, Ealph Brakespeare strode out of the shadow into the firelight. The Italian sprang to his feet, griping the girl's wrist still hard with his left hand, while his right fell, as it were naturally, on his dagger hilt. But he thrust the blade back before it was half drawn, and broke again into that low, mocking laugh, so intensely insolent. 118 BRAKESPEAIIE. " So the bona roba hath found a champion. By the body of Venus, a likely youth ! And with what arms wouldst thou do battle for thy lady with estoc of lath, or a fool's bauble for mace ? 'Twere a good deed to let out some of the blood that boils in thee too hotly ; but it suits me not now to play the chirurgeon. Wilt thou try a wrestle before this reverend company? Here is space enow for a fair fall, and no rushes to break it ; it may be that thy bones will carry away to-night some memory of our meeting. As for thee, thou peevish piece of harlotry ! sit thou there behind me ; I will deal with thee anon." Taunt or threat Ralph Brakespeare noticed not, any more than he did the imploring glances of Will Lanyon, who was broad awake now, and manifestly eager to take the burden of the quarrel on his own shoulders : he thrust his follower hastily, though not unkindly, aside; and, advancing yet a few steps, stood face to face with his adversary. He was by some two inches the taller of the twain, but far lighter of frame; of all the bystanders Lauyon alone, THE COMPANY AT THE SPUR. 119 perchance, doubted that the result would be other than they wished; for a mere youth was pitted against one in the very flower of his strength, arid from the way in which the Italian took up his position, the judges of such matters saw in him a practised wrestler. Without another word spoken on either side, they grappled. At first, as they swayed to and fro, the foreigner's superior weight did tell, and it seemed as though his opponent must needs be borne down, or uprooted from the floor. But not for naught had Philip Kemeys' pupil studied under a master, whose name had been for a quarter-century the boast and terror of the countryside. At the very moment when Ralph seemed to bend and yield under the other's gripe, with a quick side-twist he brought his own hip under the other's groin ; then, before any could guess how it was done, the Italian's feet, struck clean from under him, flew high in air, and he came to the ground with a dull, ominous crash, flung fairly over Brakespeare's shoulder. 120 BRAKESPEARE. No wonder that for some seconds' space lie should have lain there half stunned and motion- less ; not twice in a lifetime will a heavy man rise from such a fall on hardened ground without scathe to life or limh ; but, before the murmur of applause called forth by the unexpected feat had died away, the Italian gathered himself up slowly, and stood upon his feet. His handsome face, deformed as it was by pain and malice, had not wholly lost its beauty ; but it was so fearfully transfigured that a painter, limning some old saintly legend, might have no apter semblance for tortured or baffled Belial. The brutal lust that lately gleamed in his eyes was supplanted by a keener desire the acrid thirst for blood : he plucked from its sheath a long, keen poignard, on whose dark-veined blade there were stains not a few, and drew himself together half-crouching, like a panther about to spring. And in Kalph Brakespeare's eyes there was the evil light spoken of before ; and his face was set as a flint stone, dark and pitiless, as he bared THE COMPANY AT THE SPUR. 121 his own hunting-knife, and, without giving a hair's breadth of ground, waited warily for the onset. All present there wist that none could come betwixt those two, without sore risk to his own life ; yet Lanyon started forward with some such intent, whilst the armourer shouted lustily for the watch, and the host wrung his hands helplessly, and the tymbestere shrieked in her terror, and many called on the combatants, in God's name, to forbear. Intercession or inter- ference must have been equally vain, and the watch could only have come in time to carry a corpse away, had it not been for an incident on which none had reckoned. A side door leading into a small inner cham- ber opened, and, through all the bustle and uproar, a single voice made itself heard. " What ! brawling again, Gian Malatesta ? Will those hands of thine never be quiet till they are in the gyves ? " A very calm, quiet voice not raised a whit above its wonted tone yet marked with an inde- scribable accent, like that of one fated some day 122 BKAKESPEARE. to hold authority over his fellows, even if his turn for command hath not come yet. The first syllables acted on the Italian's wrath, like a necromancer's spell on a rebellious familiar : he thrust back his dagger into its sheath ; and, as he turned towards the speaker, the ferocity on his face changed to the sullen confusion, which, with natures like his, replaces shame. The new comer deserves to be somewhat care- fully portrayed, for that age, rife though it was with names of mark, bred few more notable worthies. CHAPTER IX. HOW RALPH TOOK SERVICE UNDER SIR JOHN HAWKWOOD. THERE stood on the threshold of the open doorway this manner of man. Something over the middle height ; of a com- plexion rather florid than pale ; with hair and beard of rich dark chesnut ; and features cast in keen aquiline mould ; the face was too calm and resolute to be ignoble, and marked by too decisive a character to be vulgar ; yet certainly it wanted the stamp of birth and breeding that gives a charm to many more common-place visages. His attire was plain even to meanness ; consisting of a close jerkin, or cassock, of coarse dark russet cloth, with nether garments and hose of the same colour, all frayed and stained with pressure of hauberk, cuissard, and steel boot. 124 BRAKESPEARE. Such an one at the age of thirty, or there- abouts, was John Hawkwood ; son of the tanner of Sible Hedingham, and whilom prentice to the tailor in Chepe, then, a simple man-at-arms ; till, within this very year, for wight service at Cregy, he took from King Edward's own hand the knightly accolade. He held in his right hand, sheathed, one of the short swords, called coutels ; and with the other beckoned the Italian towards him. The other obeyed without a word, though, as it seemed, rather sullenly and re- luctantly ; and in another second the door of the inner chamber was closed behind them. Then there broke forth again a stir and murmur in the guest-chamber, but now of merri- ment rather than of fear ; for there was not one present whose heart was not gladdened by the sight of the foreigner's handsome head laid low. Several gathered round the conqueror, pressing on him their simple gratulations, whilst loudest amongst them rose the voice of the honest armourer. Lanyon, when he saw that help was no longer needed, had cast himself down again HOW RALPH TOOK SERVICE. 125 on his settle, and had already relapsed into stolid placidity. In the midst of the huhbub, none noticed the disappearance of the glee-maiden and her grandsire. Hastily, though not uncour- teously, Ealph broke through his admirers ; and, plucking him by the sleeve as he bustled past, drew the host aside. " I fain would learn the name and degree of him who entered but now " he said, " if thou knowest them, and there be no special reason for thy silence." " There is none such, fair sir " the other answered readily. " Men call him Sir John Hawkwood now ; though but a year agone, as I have heard, he rode a simple archer in the Lord Neville's train. I warrant him a good lance and a bold, yet very straitened in his means, I fear me. He hath been at no charges, save for need- ful meat and drink, the three days he hath lain in my private chamber. Marry, had it not been for his follower yonder roysterer, with whom your worship dealt so roundly but now the Spur had gained little by their custom. Nath- 126 , BRAKESPEAKE. less, I grudge him not house room, God wot. "Tis a fair spoken knight, and a kindly; and mayhap he will tarry here some day, when he hath gotten both wealth and honour." As they spoke, the armourer had approached unobserved, and struck in with scant cere- mony. " And is that Sir John Hawkwood ? I am well pleased to have foregathered with him. My good-wife hath kinsfolk in the parts where he was born and bred. It was but the other day that her cousin told us of the wonderment and glad- ness at Hedingham, when they heard that their neighbour's son had won his spurs. 'Tis pity that the honest tanner lived not to look on his boy's face again ; but he was in mortal sickness when the news came, and the great joy may well have hasted his end. The knight hath started fair, certes ; yet he hath a brave long race yet to run, and there will be prizes worth the winning for such as keep him company. Had I to choose my service, I swear by Saint Benedict, I had liever ride under his pennon than under the HOW RALPH TOOK SERVICE. 127 broadest banner that flaunts in Flanders or Guienne." Just then the inner door opened again, and the Italian re-entered the guest-chamber. On his smooth brow there was no vestige of cloud ; and none but a very keen observer would have de- tected in his smile a covert sneer. " I crave pardon of this goodly company " he said, in a soft, slow voice, " for having broken off their drink and troubled their mirth. I did but jest with the damoiselle after my rough foreign fashion; and, had she not fled so suddenly, I had made her amends before you all. I will take good heed so to offend no more. To you, gentle sir " he bent low as he turned towards Kalph Brakespeare " would I make special ex- cuse in presence of Sir John Hawkwood, the knight I follow, if it will please you to visit him in his chamber." Ralph bent his head ; and, with a sign of in- telligence to the armourer, went out with the Italian. They came into a small chamber, dimly lighted 128 BRAKESPEARE. by a single oil-lamp, and scantily furnished with a few rude lockers for arms and wearing apparel; two bed places let into recesses in the wall, after the fashion still prevalent in parts of Scot- land ; and a heavy oaken table strewn with parchments and writing material, near which sat Sir John Hawkwood. As he arose to greet his visitor, there might have been noticed in his courtesy the stiffness and constraint of one who has had little practice in social forms and cere- monies : neither did he waste many words in the preamble. " It shames me much, fair sir," he said, " that the ill-conduct of follower of mine should have drawn you into unseemly brawl ; albeit you have dealt him a sharp lesson, for the which I thank you heartily. I know no more than it hath suited him to avow ; but I guessed what happened, when I saw the glee-maiden cowering there. Sathanas needs but to take the shape of a dainty paramour, and Gian Malatesta will wend lightly wherever it lists the fiend to lead. Nevertheless, I have told him roundly that, if he proffer not such excuse as HOW RALPH TOOK SERVICE. it may fit you to receive, he and I part this night. 'Twere a sorry jest if I, who but lately stood bareheaded in presence of captains, should suffer insolence towards their betters in such as ride with me." 'Tis scarce worth while to set down at length the Italian's apology ; more especially as it imposed not altogether on him to whom it was addressed. Indeed, a vague feeling of dislike and distrust rather increased than abated in Brakespeare's breast ; he cut the glib speaker short, so soon as he could do so without manifest discourtesy. " I pray thee be less liberal in excuse, messire : enough has been said and to spare. Perchance little harm was meant ; and, as it chanced, none hath been done. 'Tis a fashion in my country, to strike hands after a tough wrestling bout, in token that no bad blood rankle ; here is mine, if ye list to take it." "With great show of eagerness the Italian accepted the proffer ; but their fingers were barely locked before they unclasped again, and Ralph turned away somewhat hastily 130 BRAKESPEARE. " There are graver matters concerning which I would speak to this knight, at his good leisure." " There is no better time than now" Hawk- wood answered. " Leave us, Gian Malatesta ; but go not far away, and keep thy brain as cool as thou canst ; I may need thy help with this scri- vener work ere I sleep." When they were alone, Ralph stated his wishes briefly and bluntly; proffering for himself and Lanyon to take service in the French wars as- man-at-arrns and archer, whilst Hawkwood listened; leaning his brow on his hands, and half shading his face. " How are ye called ? " he asked, without looking up. When he heard the answer, he dropped his hand, and gazed steadily on the youth with his small, piercing eyes. " Brakespeare ? " he said, doubtfully. " "Tis an honest yeoman name, certes, like to the one I bear : yet right seldom worn by those of the degree to which, if I err not, thou belongest by birth, if not by fortune ? " HOW RALPH TOOK SERVICE. 131 Ralph met the fixed look without blenching. " I say not that they christened me so " he answered ; " but to none other name have I better claim, and by none other will I henceforth be known, whether I speed with you, sir knight, or no. Also, ye do greatly err in imputing to me higher estate than my name imports : there are merchants and franklins not a few in yon guest- chamber, who if right were done, might sit higher at the board than I." Sir John's lip curled with a quaint smile, sar- castic, yet not unkindly. " Good sooth, I marvel how the great folk of thy country apparel themselves, and what manner of grimmals they wear, when on the fingers of yeoman's sons shine fair balass rubies ! Nay, be not wroth " he went on, in a grave voice, marking the quick flush on Balph's cheek ; " I have no title to question thee. Eather take thou this my counsel : if on light incitement thou hast left thy home, repent thee in time ; so shall thy fortunes not be marred in peevish fit ; but, if there be weightier causes, and thou art in truth utterly K 2 132 BKAKESPEARE. adrift, then take service with some knight or baron of higher repute and larger means than I. Ill will it suit such as from youth upwards have lain soft, and lived delicately, to ride with plain John Hawkwood, whose worldly wealth the ac- compt of which lies under mine hand may scarce suffice for the furniture of three men-at-arms." " Let that be no hindrance " Ralph answered, with eagerness unwonted in him ; " I bear gold pieces enow in this gipsire to purvey myself and my follower yonder, both with horse and armour. Nay, for that special purpose were they given to me. As for choosing another leader, the honest armourer whose surname I bear albeit, I profess not to be of his kin said, speaking of your worship but now : ' He hath a brave long race yet to run, and there will be prizes worth the winning for such as keep him company. Had I to choose my service, I had liever ride under his pennoncelle than under the broadest banner that flaunts in Flanders or Guienne.' Even so say I. Yet will I thrust my service on none, and I may not gainsay your pleasure ; so, if ye will have HOW RALPH TOOK SERVICE. 133 none of me and mine, I will cumber your time and chamber no more." Now, John Hawkwood, though imbued with man)' of the high and generous qualities which are part and parcel of the heroic character, was by no means a hero of romance, either in disin- terestedness or disregard of his own advantage to which, indeed, as his later history shows, he had a marvellously keen eye. Here was a rare chance before him ; and he was scarce likely to let it slip. Rising up, he laid his hand on the other's arm, as it were with a sudden impulse, which, if not natural, was excellently feigned. " Nay, fair youth, we part not thus. It may be I have been over nice in this matter specially since the king, our master, stands in sore need of thews and sinews like thine : thy follower, I guess, was yon brawny carle I saw but now, so eager to thrust himself between thee and harm at his own life's peril. Sith ye will have none of my counsel, I will take your frank proffer as frankly ; and ye both shall be enrolled this night thou as man- at-arms, he as archer. If ever I thrive, so as to 134 BBAKESPEARE. maintain a household, we may speak of thine ad- vancement to esquire's degree. In such a case, were it set to the proof, baseness of birth, I warrant me, would not be thy bar ; though I choose not to pry further into what concerns me not nearly. Write thyself down as it lists thee : a] man may fight well, God wot, under a worse name than thou hast chosen." " Nay, not so " the other made answer ; " if you, sir knight, scruple not to attach to your person an unknown runagate, I were a very churl to be more niggardly of trust. Hearken, an' it please you, though 'tis scarce worth your while." Then, very briefly and simply, for the second time that day, Ealph Brakespeare told his story to a stranger. But Hawkwood evidently thought it not wasted time, as he listened with marked interest : when it was ended, he shook his head with a compassion that may well have been real. " 'Tis a sad tale "he said. " I know but little of the ways and fashions of knights and nobles; yet often hath it seemed to me that they deal HOW RALPH TOOK SERVICE. 135 -with their own flesh and blood, more hardly than they deal with us of low estate. For what thou hast done I blame tliee not now; nay, by the Rood, I think thou hast chosen thy part both wisely and well. I am right glad that all lies fair and open betwixt us two ; thou dost not fear I should bewray thy secret? There is yet another matter troubles me : I know not how thou and Gian Malatesta will agree. Forsooth, I my- self like him not hugely, and trust him no further than I would trust a sworn dicer and drabber ; yet is the knave useful manywise. He speaketh three tongues indifferently well, and, with good skill at all weapons, hath a special gift for am- bushments and stratagems of war ; moreover, when in the humour, or hardly pressed, he will fight like a very fiend; also, never a clerk or shaveling of them all can read and indite more deftly : indeed, though he babbles not much con- cerning himself, even in his drink, from certain words he hath let drop, I guess hiui to have been cloister-bred, and to have broken bounds. Chiefly to this end did I yield to his desire, and .suffer 130 BRAKESPEAUE. him to come hither in my company. I needed help in dealing with all this gear " he pointed to the table strewn with parchments, " for scrolls are but sealed books unto me. I have been seeking to turn into gold pieces the slender heritage that came to me but of late : marry, when the charges of my journey and the cost of these parchments are paid, my gipsire will be heavier by scarce a score of nobles. It may be that the Lombard and scrivener are cozening me, and that the Italian is in league with both ; but I have no patience to dally longer here. Yet another three or four days, and we will be clear of English air : not on light cause, I wis, will I breathe it again." " Let that not trouble your worship " Ralph answered, cheerily, yet with a touch of scorn. " It is not like, indeed, that Messire Malatesta and I shall knit brotherhood in arms ; natheless might we drink at the same board, and couch in the same tent, and ride under the same pennon for many a year, without either looking askance at the other. For all that you have seen to-night, I HOW RALPH TOOK SERVICE. 137 am not, in very truth, given to brawling, nor have I thus far found men hasty in picking quarrel." " That can I well believe " Hawkwood replied, smiling slightly ; " and, though Gian Malatesta be a rank brawler when crossed or in drink, I have ever noted in him a certain shrewd wit in choosing such as may safely be overborne. Thou art not of these, as he has found out at cost of a rib's-ache ; I dare aver he will mell with thee no more. Go now, I prithee, and send that same varlet hither to me : I must get forward with these matters to-night. And come with thy fol - lower early to-morrow, that I may enrol your names, and give ye handsel of King Edward's wages. Then will we speak of purveying thee with horse and armour : in these times there is no lack of such gear ready to all men's hands." With an obeisance that marked that he already held himself bound by new duties, Brakespeare went out; and, after delivering his message to the Italian, sat down to tell Will Lanyon and the armourer how he had sped. The first-named took the news with his wonted 138 BRAKESPEARE. placidity: it was indeed, to him, of singularly small importance under whom he served, so long as he parted not company with the one man whose fortunes he had chosen to follow. The armourer, who by this time had nearly rendered an account of the second stoup, was voluble in congratulation and approval ; perchance his satisfaction was in no wise lessened by reflection on the custom that the morrow would bring him. But John Brakespeare was no late roysterer, and had a character to keep up both at home and abroad ; so, when the flagon was finished, he rose to go, resisting manfully all temptation of another. Ealph went out with him, for his head felt heated not with wine, of which he had been sparing, but with excitement of diverse kinds- and he longed for a draught of fresh air, free of fume of food or wood-smoke. Beside the great gates of the archway leading into the courtyard, which were now closed, the inn had another door opening into the.. street, beyond which a heavy porch projected some three yards. Against the outer angle of this Ralph HOW RALPH TOOK SERVICE. 189 leant and watched the burly armourer as he strode away, planting each solid footfall with a studied deliberation, as though bent on dis- sembling even to himself a certain unsteadi- ness of gait. It was a black boisterous night, with dreary glimpses of a watery moon through the rifts in the tossing cloudrack ; and every gust brought closer the chillness that foreruns heavy rain ; but there the youth lingered, loath to return to the heat and bustle of the guest-chamber, and not sorry for a while to be left to his own musings. His right hand was thrust into the breast of his doublet, whilst the other hung listlessly at his side. Suddenly he started, for on that left hand there came first the faintest pressure, then it was lifted gently till two soft lips were laid on the palm : glancing downwards in his wonder, his eyes looked full into those of the tymbestere, gleaming out of the shadow where she knelt. With the liking that most men feel for any helpless creature whom they have defended not unsuccessfully, there mingled in Ralph's breast a 140 BRAKESPEARE. great pity ; for the fingers that clasped his own were deathly cold ; and the threadbare mantle cast over flimsy finery was a miserable fence against the biting March wind. " What dost thou here, thou foolish child ? " he said, in feigned anger. " Of a surety thou hast not with thee the poor old man, thy grand- sire ? Yet, if he guessed thee to be abroad alone, he would fall in sorer trouble than anon, when his face was such a sorry sight." She laughed a low, sad laugh : even in that dim light he could see the big drops in her eyes. " Oftentimes have we two laid afield in wilder weather than this. Nathless, to-night we have better hap, and my grandsire is well bestowed with some charitable folk who have given us lodging not a furlong hence : by this time he sleeps sound. Messire, I guessed I know not why that ye would come forth ere betaking yourself to your chamber. Had it been other- wise, I had tarried here till ye came forth on the morrow, rather than that ye should esteem the tymbestere ingrate or thankless." HOW RALPH TOOK SERVICE. 141 "Tush," he broke in "make not coil about naught. Others there would have done as much : I but spoke first, being something quick of temper." She shook her head meekly, as she let his hand go, and rose to her feet. " Nay, mock me not : those decent citizens and traders might have murmured ' 'twas pity and shame ; ' and, had utter violence been wrought, some might have cried, ' harow,' and ' help ; ' but never a one, as well ye wot, would have thwarted yon fair-faced devil, to have saved a tymbestere from scath. And, beau sire, much I marvel that ye should have perilled life and limb for one whom ye could but deem a light- o'-love." " Nay, by Saint Giles " he answered, in some haste "thou wrongest both thyself and me: I did thee in my thought no such dishonour- Moreover, the honest fellow who quitted me but now, spoke both of thee and thy grandsire when first ye entered, and avouched ye leal and true." A quick, joyful light dawned on her face. 142 BRAKESPEARE. " Ay ! and did he so ? May God requite him of his charity. I have not been so glad of heart since Father Clement shrived me a year agone a pious priest and a kindly, albeit Saint Augus- tine's abbot called him Lollard, and, had he not fled, would have put him in ward. I ever com- fort me with his latest words, when I am most sorrowful and weary. ' Go in peace, my daughter; and may He who bade the blessed Magdalen be of good courage, help thee in thy hard battle ! So thou bide honest, chaste, and duteous, care not thou for the world's scorn. When ye all shall come to the judgment, perchance it shall fare with thee, better than with some who now would shrink from touch of thy garment. More- over, neither by night nor morning omit thine orisons ; for to these will the Mother of God herself hearken not less heedfully than if thou wert wimpled nun.' Messire, wot ye why I trespass thus on your patience ? It is because, when once I have learned thy name, it shall never be forgotten when I kneel down to pray. Vouchsafe me this last grace, and let me depart : HOW RALPH TOOK SERVICE. 143 it is not meet that I tarry in thy company after mine errand is done." More moved than he cared to show, Ealph told her what she required. After murmuring the words over to herself softly twice or thrice "A brave soldierly name " she said. "Heaven send it luck and renown. Beau sire, though one day you bear on your helm the sleeve of some high-born damoiselle or dame, ye need not scruple to avouch that you first showed prowess in the bucklering of a poor glee-maiden." While she spoke, Ralph had drawn a broad gold piece from his gipsire, and would have forced it upon her. " Take this at least " he began, but broke off suddenly with the quick delicacy which was part of his nature, seeing that she shrank back evi- dently pained " Nay, thou silly child, I meant it not as guerdon or alms, but rather as a token of this our meeting. Other have I none to give : thou need'st not barter it except at sore need." Her small fingers closed round it eagerly enough now. 141 BRAKESPEABE. " So may all the saints have you in their keep- ing " she said, almost in a whisper ; and stoop- ing down, laid her lips upon his hand once more. Before their print had vanished, she had flitted away like an elf into the darkness. After lingering there yet awhile, as if in thought, Ralph went back into the guest-hall, which was now emptying fast ; and soon betook himself to the chamber which, as was the custom, he shared with some half-score other travellers : he slept not so soundly as he was wont; and more than once started from slumber, half persuaded that he felt on his hand the pressure of soft fingers, and of softer lips. Nay, some months elapsed ere such phantasms ceased to mingle with rougher visions of feast and war. Two years later, when the plague, which laid England desolate, was beginning to abate its fury, those that carried the common bier found under a hovel on the banks of Thames the corpses of the minstrel and the glee-maiden. Both were thin and worn by privation; and it was plain they must have suffered almost of HOW RALPH TOOK SERVICE. 145 famine before the pestilence did its work : where- fore the grave-diggers marvelled the more to find hung round the girl's neck, and hidden under her bodice, a broad piece of gold. It helped to make them merry that night, after their hideous fashion; and, whilst they caroused, they passed many a foul jest on the love-token of the mad tymbestere. VOL. I. CHAPTER X. HOW RALPH BRAKESPEARE RODE AFTER SIR JOHN HAWKWOOD TO SANDWICH. VERY early on the morrow, Ralph held brief converse with Lanyon, which resulted in a certain change of plan. When they presented themselves before Hawkwood, Brakespeare prayed that his follower might be enlisted as a hobelar, or mounted archer of the light- armed class. To this the knight gave ready assent. Neither, indeed, could he have ob- jected with any good grace, seeing that both recruits were to be equipped at their own expense. Gian Malatesta welcomed his new comrades in a fair set speech, to which Ralph made answer, courteous, and cold : though in his heart he made light of the Italian's compli- ments, he gladly availed himself of the other's HOW RALPH RODE TO SANDWICH. 147 proffered aid in the purveyance of horse and harness. First, was provided a strong, active gelding, -well fitted for the lighter weight he had to carry ; for Lanyon's defensive armour consisted only of a bascinet, haqueton, and gauntlets ; his wea- pons were spear, coutel, and knife. Ralph's destrere was chosen with much more trouble and ^are. Indeed, though the weight of metal had been lessened by the gradual replacement of chain mail by plate, it was still a sore task for ordinary horseflesh to bear a rider armed cap-d-pie through a long day of march and battle. At length they fixed on a powerful roaii stallion something heavy in the crest or shoulder for our modern notions ; but with the short broad barrel that promises hardiness no less than strength, and with rare loins and limbs. John Brakespeare had not vaunted his wares unduly ; and, if the Italian's critical eyes used to judge the work of Florentine or Genoese found something now and then to -cavil at, it was rather at want of finish in the L 2 14* BRAKESPEAKE. fashion than at defect in the quality of steel. By nightfall the equipment was complete ; and, more weary with busy excitement than he had ever been with exercise on foot or in saddle, Ralph Brakespeare sat down to supper. His gipsire was sorely shrunken from its fair round proportions of yester-even; but this troubled the youth not a whit: he was full of hope and health, and knew that his soldier's pay would suffice his moderate desires ; so 'tis no marvel, if he felt himself wealthy with the few gold pieces that yet jingled nnder his girdle. Right glad, too, was he to hear that Hawkwood's own business was done, and that on the morrow they would set forth to Sandwich, whence they would take ship. There are few but would have lingered to look at the small group gathered the next morn- ing round the porch of ' The Spur,' in the level rays of the late-risen sun. Of the three horsemen armed cap-d-pie, Hawk- wood himself was, perhaps, the least imposing in exterior ; there were shrewd dints, both in his HOW RALPH RODE TO SANDWICH. 149 bascinet and breastplate ; neither was his har- ness so carefully polished as that of the Italian, whereon certain bosses, and other attempts at ornament, gave token of a leaning towards mar- tial foppery. Both of these were well-mounted ; though their cattle were somewhat low in flesh, as from long travel or campaigning, and made contrast with the high condition of the roan destrere, pawing and curvetting impatiently under the skilful hand that reined him. In very truth, Ralph Brakespeare was a gallant sight as he sat there square and erect, yet swaying to each movement of his charger, easily, as though his limbs had been cumbered with nothing weightier than silk or serge his eyes flashing under his raised visor, and a genial smile upon his lips, which were apt to be some- what too set and stern. Will Lanyon had backed too many wild colts to feel timid in saddle ; but he lacked the grace of an accomplished horseman, and was evidently something ill at ease in his new caparison ; his vast breadth of shoulder and corded muscles 150 BRAKESPEAEE. showed to advantage, even under the heavy haqueton ; and, looking at the grip of his brawny thighs, you guessed that trying to bear such an one down so long as his horse kept its footing would be like tilting at a tower. Glancing at the pair with a keen, soldierly eye, Hawkwood thought that he had gotten for the king, if not for himself, a rare bargain. Close by the knight's rein bowed the host of ' The Spur,' stirrup-cup in hand, with the smug satisfaction on his face of one whose reckoning has just been paid without wrangle or close enquiry ; a pace or two off stood the honest armourer, come to take a last look at his own handiwork, and to wish his namesake God-speed. Hawkwood barely touched the hippocras with his lips, and Ralph was nearly as temperate ; but the Italian drank deep in his own deliberate fashion ; and Lanyon drank the huge beaker to the dregs, muttering something as he wiped his beard about " the sin of wasting good liquor." The brief farewells were soon said, and then. HOW RALPH RODE TO SANDWICH. 151 came the clash and rattle of steel, as the small cavalcade moved slowly away ; the knight riding alone in front, his two men-at-arms following abreast, whilst the archer brought up the rear, leading the single packhorse laden with their scanty baggage. Shading his eyes, John Brake- speare watched them till they disappeared round the sharp corner of Kentish Street ; and then, with a half sigh and a muttered benison, he turned into the hostel, to comfort himself with a liberal morning posset. Through that day, and the next, and the next, Hawkwood and his followers rode steadily on- ward ; making the best speed they could, without distressing their cattle, along the main road to the south-eastern coast, through Rochester, Sit- tingbourne, Charing, and Canterbury. No inci- dent worthy of record befell them till, on the fourth afternoon, from a crest of rising ground, they saw the old Roman walls of Richborough, rising like a rocky islet out of the dreary marsh- land ; and, beyond this, houses clustered on either side of a harbour- estuary ; and, further 152 BRAKESPEAEE . yet, gleams of wet sand and a broad selvage of foam. And two of the wayfarers felt the pleasant wonderment, common to all who for the first time draw into their nostrils briny air, and for the first time listen to the language of the sea. Very few, riding through so long a march side by side with Gian Malatesta, would have been proof against the fascination of his manner, when, as now, he wished it to be winning. His glib tongue never seemed to weary as he told stories of adventure in many lands, racy and picturesque and stirring enough, yet not so redo- lent of rapine as to shock or revolt the listener ; whilst, throughout, he had the tact to avoid egotism and affect modesty hinting at, rather than avowing, the share that he himself had borne in orgie or broil. Ever and anon, too, his rich, round voice would break out into snatches of melody English drinking ditty, French rondelai, or, more frequently, a canzonet of his own land : specially in these last, the veriest stranger, to whom the words were HOW RALPH RODE TO SANDWICH. 153 meaningless, might have guessed that he sang of love love, not of the heart, but of the senses not a high romantic devotion, but passion, half selfish and wholly sinful. At each hostel or wayside inn where they made halt, the Italian had banter or admiration ready for every buxom face or trim figure that crossed his path ; but he carried not his jest to the verge of licentious- ness, and refrained from all undue excess in liquor. Altogether, it would have been difficult to find a pleasanter fellow-traveller, and Ralph could not but own that the way was made shorter by his company. Despite the genial and generous feelings per- vading his nature, like gold damasquing iron, the youth was imbued with that hard, stub- born obstinacy 'which the Northmen express by the one word " dour ; " he was of the stuff of which staunch friends and staunch haters are made, and changed neither his likes nor his dis- likes lightly. On the fourth day of their society, the vague distrust and aversion which he had felt at his first meeting with the Italian, 151 BRAKESPEARE. were little if anything abated. It was not that he showed himself in anywise churlish or sullen ; he smiled at the other's jest, listened to his stories with unfeigned interest, and praised his songs, whether he understood them or no. Once the other spoke of the brawl which had so nearly ended fatally, still marvelling on his own discomfiture. "I served long ago" Malatesta said "with one Michael Tregarva, who averred himself to have kept the ring for a year and a day in the barbarous country wherein he was bred Corn- ou-alle, I think he called it. He was but a clumsy lubbard, and a lying braggart to boot. With him I practised many an idle hour, till I had learned, or thought I had learned, each foin and foil that he could teach; but' that sleight of foot and hip which laid me low so deftly, is utterly strange to me. I would be much be- holden to your courtesy an' ye would bestow on me a lesson at fitting season." " 'Tis a simple trick enough " Ralph answered ; " though the foil is something harder to learn ; HOW RALPH RODE TO SANDWICH. 155 and I will do my endeavours cheerfully to make ye perfect in both." So, in fair outward show of amity, if with no great heart-kindness, they rode in together to Sandwich town. CHAPTER XI. BEFORE CALAIS. THERE was, in Sandwich, no lack of means of transport ; for never surely, before or since, hath the high water-way across the Straits been fur- rowed by so frequent keels. Almost daily, fresh supplies or munitions were nee ded for the mighty host with which the English king held Calais in leaguer; also many merchants and chapmen nocked thither, sure of a quick and profitable sale of their wares ; for French gold was plenty in the Ville de Bois, specially since the return of Derby's armament laden with the plunder of Gascony and Poitou. That same night Hawk- wood parleyed with the master of a carrack then ready for sea ; before dawn, he and his followers were bestowed aboard, and they sailed out of Sandwich with the morning tide. BEFORE CALAIS. 157 Slowly the clumsy craft forged ahead, pitch- ing and wallowing from sheer topheaviness though the swell was moderate, and the breeze fair to the dire discomfort of Lanyon and others making their first essay of sea- faring. Ralph Brakespeare fared better; for long temperance and hard exercise made him proof against qualms; yet his brows throbbed, and his eyes swam painfully; so he was right glad when, towards close of day, Cape Grisnez loomed nearer and nearer; and more glad still when they cast anchor, in as shoal water as they dared, on the outskirts of the throng of vessels some transports, some ships of war that clustered round and blockaded the harbour. Before it was quite dark, the carrack's boats had landed the passengers, their arms and capa- risons; and the horses, forced one by one through a vast square porthole in the after-hold half swimming, half wading: had come safely to shore. In the after-years, full as they were of varied adventure, Ralph never forgot the first night he 158 BRAKE SPEAEE. spent on foreign soil. He remembered how they dried and cleansed their chargers, in presence of Hawkwood, there on the sea-sand, till the beasts were fit to bear caparison ; and then, mounting, rode in the same order as they marched before, over the bridges of the double ditch forming the outwork of the English entrenchments; and passed through more than one long street of broom or straw-thatched huts, till they came into the broad market-place, where the knight bade his followers halt till he had spoken with the camp-marshal, who could allot them quarters. He remembered how, sitting there in saddle, he had listened to the babble of many and divers tongues till his ears grew dizzy; and how the lonely feeling of isolation overcame him more and more as the darkness closed in ; and how, glancing round at his companions to mark how they bore themselves, he envied Lanyon the stolid indifference into which the archer's face had settled, so soon as the throes of sea-sickness left him in peace ; and how he envied yet more Gian Malatesta his experience and evident fami- BEFORE CALAIS. 159 liarity with the scene, as, ever and anon, the Italian exchanged a nod or careless word of greeting with some passer-by. He rememhered how close, and dark, and stifling their huts seemed to his eyes, used so long to chambers lofty and groined ; and how, through the night he tossed restlessly on his pallet, listening to the tramp of the sentinel, till, near daybreak, he fell into a broken sleep, troubled for the first time since he had set forth thence with feverish dreams of his old home. But the feeling of novelty soon wore off ; and he fell into the groove of daily duty with the quick aptitude of a born soldier ; before a week had passed, the greyest veteran there was not more thoroughly at home than Ralph. Neither was his life weary nor monotonous ; by Hawkwood's order, he was ever seeking to improve himself in the martial exercises in which he already rarely excelled ; and he took his turn regularly with the outposts, who rode forth to watch and check the foragers of Boulogne, St. Omer, and Guisnes ; but week after week passed, 100 BRAKESPEARE. without Brakespeare's crossing lance in earnest. Sport and duty brought him into contact with new comrades, more to his taste than Gian Malatesta : though he was not one of those friends fast, he was popular rather than other- wise ; and where he was liked, he was trusted. Looking at the quiet, resolute face, and eyes frank, though somewhat stern, men felt that it would be easy to find a blither boon companion, but hard to light on a better backer in mortal quarrel. Sir John Hawkwood seemed much of this opinion. Albeit reserved and taciturn, he showed towards the youth marked favour in his grave fashion ; and not seldom vouchsafed word or gesture of approval to Lanyon, who toiled at his training in arms with a dogged perseverance that well replaced adroitness. Ralph's idle hours, too, were fully amused. Pleasant it was, after Lent was done, to watch the pomp and pageantry, whilst the great lords of Flanders, Hainault, Brabant, and Germany streamed in, with their long trains, to render BEFORE CALAIS. 161 homage to the prosperous King and the victress of Neville's Cross ; and, last of all, came Eobert of Namur, with the tan of Syrian sun on his fair young cheek, to proffer himself as their true and loyal liegeman. Pleasanter yet to watch the sheen of velvet, the glimmer of jewels, and the glitter of brocade, as the dames or da- moiselles, who waited on or followed Philippa, swept, with flutter of veil, sleeve, and contoise, through the Ville de Bois on their palfreys, or tripped daintily forth from the thatched pa- vilions, where dwelt the knights and barons of their kin. Very often, in the midst of this gaiety, the youth fell a wondering as to how it fared with those within the grey ramparts that seamed and scarred with dint of battering- engine still frowned defiantly, like some old warrior, who having gotten a mortal wound, braces himself for yet another onset. In very truth, the condition of the Calaisois was such as might have stirred pity in a harder heart than Kalph Brakespeare; slowly and VOL. r. M 162 BBAKESPEARE. surely, hour by hour, they were forced to watch the lines of blockade tightened around them ; till their case might be likened to his who, mured in the Italian torture-chamber, saw inch by inch the walls and ceiling slide together, that one day should crush him out of shape of humanity. After that desperate night sally, in which Arnold d'Andregha and his fellows carried havoc and fear up to the very portals of the royal pavilion, they had no distraction of their long agony in the excitement of hand-to-hand combat. At regular intervals, less and less frequent, were heard creak of trebuchet, whistle of esprin- gal, rattle of pateraros, roar of bombards; but they guessed that this was ordained rather for display or practice of the English artillery than with any serious intent of making breach ; for their foe, with a malign patience, forbore all assault not choosing to waste the services of so potent an ally as famine. No lighter pangs had the garrison now to endure ; seventeen hundred had long ago departed whom Edward, with somewhat ostentatious charity, dismissed BEFORE CALAIS. 163 with food and alms ; since then, another detach- ment had been thrust forth ; but the mercy of the besieger was spent, and five hundred corpses of women, weaklings, and dotards slaughtered outright by cold and hunger made hideous and noisome the space betwixt camp and town. And still too many mouths remained to feed. After Warwick scattered with sore loss and shame the Genoese flotilla, there was no hope of open succour by sea. Besides the galleys that patrolled the Straits, and Northampton's war-ships anchored near shore, the men-at-arms and archers in the great wooden castle set up over against the harbour-mouth kept such jealous watch and ward, that scarcely under cover of the darkest night could a light skiff slip out or in even were it manned by Marant and Mestriel, the skilful mariners whose deeds of hardiesse have found place, not unworthily, amongst the feats of arms of that age. To make their own straits more keenly felt, in their ears were ever sounds of revelry from without, and signs of unstinted plenty in their eyes; the provision M 2 164 BBAKESPEARE. alone, that they saw wasted in the market-place of the Ville de Bois, would have been as a royal banquet to them. Each morning, faces more gaunt, and wan, and wild, looked towards the rising sun in search of the rescue which never came. Yet still faith and loyalty held their own bravely. If men gnashed their teeth and groaned within their own dwellings, none murmured in public ; and whoso should have spoken of lower- ing the Ancient, that still floated vauntingly as ever on the topmost tower, would have died a traitor's death. No marvel if the great heart of John de Vienne sickened within him, at sight of sufferings that he could not lighten, and of despair he could not cheer ; till, after taking counsel of his peers, he tried one last appeal to their master. He him- self indited that letter so piteous in its rude simplicity of which a copy is still preserved. i, troftroute jcfjjtttcur, que notuf (Eottj in nut manjjcj (llfybals, Cijtcng & 3Ratj & n'eit remit rim pour Itur bibrr rftttcti djeSrun manjje ault. $Jar queji trri50ncttra6lc jg'rigmcur, gt noutf ne Ijasttfe Jbuccoure, la inlle et pcrtiup ; & noutf BEFORE CALAIS. 165 & m0urtr s'ur nous nmcinua au &aunru ', pitta tost qur Helens' mourtr pur Ircfaultc.