RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 . OF CALIF. LIBRARY, LOS ANGELES
 
 THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 
 
 NEW YORK BOSTON CHICAGO 
 ATLANTA SAN FRANCISCO 
 
 MACMILLAN & CO., LIMITED 
 
 LONDON BOMBAY CALCUTTA 
 MELBOURNE 
 
 THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, LTD. 
 
 TORONTO
 
 SAW IT WAS SIR WALTER." Pag t 404.
 
 RED CAP 
 ADVENTURES 
 
 BEING THE SECOND SERIES 
 
 OF RED CAP TALES 
 
 STOLEN FROM THE TREASURE 
 
 CHEST OF THE WIZARD 
 
 OF THE NORTH 
 
 WHICH THEFT 
 IS HUMBLY ACKNOWLEDGED BY 
 
 S. R. CROCKET 
 
 THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 
 
 LONDON: ADAM AND CHARLES BLACK
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1908, 
 BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY. 
 
 Set up and electrotyped. Published September, 1908. 
 
 NortoooU |hr(H 
 
 J. 8. Cushlnp Co. Berwick & Smith Co. 
 Norwood, MMB., U.S.A.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 TALES TOLD FROM "IVANHOE" 
 
 MM 
 
 THE FIRST TALE: 
 
 I. THE KEEPER OF SWINE ..... 9 
 II. COUNCIL OF CONNOISSEURS 32 
 
 THE SECOND TALE: 
 
 I. THE SPLINTERED LANCES OF ASHBY . . .26 
 
 II. BATTLE GENERAL . . . . .44 
 
 LINK NUMBER Two: 
 
 I INCREASE MY AUDIENCE . . . . 52 
 
 THE THIRD TALE: 
 
 THE TALE OF THE PEELED WILLOW WAND . . 64 
 
 THE FOURTH TALE: 
 
 THE CASTLE OF FRONT DE BCEUF > . 74 
 
 END OF THE FOURTH TALE FROM " IVANHOE " . 93 
 
 THE FIFTH TALE: 
 
 I. THE SACK OF TORQUILSTONE . . * IOI 
 
 ii. REBECCA'S CHAMPION . . . . in 
 
 in. CONCLUSION . . . .129 
 
 TALES TOLD FROM "THE FORTUNES OF NIGEL" 
 
 THE FIRST TALE: 
 
 MASTER AND MAN ..... 144 
 
 2128893
 
 vi CONTENTS 
 
 V 
 
 THE SECOND TALE: PAGB 
 
 NIGEL AT COURT . . . . .163 
 
 THE END OF SWEETHEART'S SECOND TALE FROM " THE 
 FORTUNES OF NIGEL" . . . .170 
 
 THE THIRD TALE: 
 
 THE RECEPTION OF SWEETHEART'S TALES CONCERN- 
 ING TRAPBOIS, THE MISER . . . .192 
 
 SWEETHEART'S FOURTH TALE FROM "THE FORTUNES OF 
 NIGEL " : 
 
 THE TRAITOR'S GATE . . . . .198 
 
 THE END OF SWEETHEART'S FOURTH TALE FROM 
 "THE FORTUNES OF NIGEL" . . .210 
 
 THE LAST TALE TOLD BY SWEETHEART FROM "THE FOR- 
 TUNES OF NIGEL" . . . . .217 
 
 TALES TOLD FROM "QUENTIN DURWARD" 
 
 HUGH JOHN PREPARES TO TELL HIS TALE . . . 247 
 
 THE TALE OF QUENTIN DURWARD'S ADVENTURES AS THESE 
 APPEARED TO HUGH JOHN : 
 THE SCOTS ADVENTURER .... 249 
 
 THE SECOND TALE OF QUENTIN DURWARD: 
 
 THE GUARDSMAN OF THE SCOTTISH ARCHERS . 262 
 
 HUGH JOHN'S THIRD TALE FROM "QUENTIN DURWARD": 
 
 ON THE KING'S BUSINESS ^- . . . 293 
 
 HUGH JOHN'S LAST TALE FROM "QUENTIN DURWARD": 
 
 THE KING'S DANGER ..... 320
 
 CONTENTS vii 
 
 TALES TOLD FROM "THE PIRATE" 
 
 PACK 
 
 THE PRELUDE TO SIR TOADY'S RED CAP TALES: 
 
 "THE STORY OF PIRATE CLEVELAND, OR, THE BE- 
 NEVOLENT BUCCANEER" .... 359 
 
 SIR TOADY LION'S STORY OF " THE PIRATE " WHICH HE TOLD 
 
 FOR LOVE ....... 361 
 
 THE SECOND RED CAP TALE, WHICH TOADY LION TOLD FOR 
 MONEY : 
 
 THE TALE OF CAPTAIN DALGETTY AND THE CHIL- 
 DREN OF THE MIST ..... 388 
 
 THE LAST TALE IN THE BOOK CALLED "RED CAP ADVEN- 
 TURES," BEING: 
 
 THE TALE THAT RED CAP TOLD TO MAID MARGARET 
 IN A DREAM . . . . . .40!
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS IN COLOUR 
 
 BY ALLAN STEWART 
 
 1 When he took off his big grey hat and stood with it in his 
 
 hand, my heart gave a great jump for I saw it was Sir 
 Walter ...... Frontispiece 
 
 IVANHOE 
 
 FACING PACK 
 
 2 Wamba could hardly collect himself enough to misdirect 
 
 them when they demanded the road to the house of his 
 master ....... 14 
 
 3 Fair and true he hit the Norman on the vizor, where his 
 
 lance's point kept hold of the bars " . . . 34 
 
 4 He that hits that rod at five-score yards, I call him an archer 
 
 fit to bear both bow and quiver before a king . 70 
 
 5 "What dost thou see, Rebecca?" again demanded the 
 
 wounded knight, eagerly . . < . 90 
 
 FORTUNES OF NIGEL 
 
 6 Richard Monyplies went . . . along by the rows of booths 
 
 and shops which is now called Fleet Street . . 146 
 
 7 Prevented from attending at Court by a too great devotion 
 
 to the pleasures of the gaming-house . . . 168 
 
 8 Nigel precipitated himself upon the scene of action, his pistol 
 
 in his right hand, the candle in his left, and a naked 
 sword under his arm . . . . .184 
 
 iz
 
 x: ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 FACING PACK 
 
 9 Nigel went into the park and had the good fortune to come 
 
 on the King when he had just killed a buck . . 200 
 
 QUENTIN DURWARD 
 
 10 Quentin declared that he would throw down his gage to 
 
 any one who would dare to say that such a face could 
 
 be otherwise than true and pure , . . 260 
 
 1 1 Quentin came very near losing the King's favour by letting 
 
 in the Duke of Orleans ..... 296 
 
 12 Forty serving-men, carrying alternately naked swords and 
 
 blazing torches, served as Louis's guard to his prison . 326 
 
 THE PIRATE 
 
 13 Bunce gave Minna a pistol to defend them both . ' *. 368 
 
 A LEGEND OF MONTROSE 
 
 14 It is the custom in summer to send the cows to the upland 
 
 pastures for the sake of the grass . . . 384 
 
 15 Behind every chair stood a gigantic Highlander ... in his 
 
 right hand a drawn sword, and in the left a blazing 
 torch . . . . . . 388 
 
 16 He was astonished to hear that the best weapons of the 
 
 Children of the Mist were bows and arrows . . 392
 
 RED CAP TALES 
 
 TOLD FROM 
 
 IVANHOE
 
 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 BEING 
 
 THE SECOND SERIES OF "RED CAP TALES" 
 
 I 
 
 TALES TOLD FROM "IVANHOE" 
 
 IT is a blessed thing to be a father, engaged in the 
 daily production of immortal works. A rose-covered 
 library set on the verges of a wood, gardens, the green 
 sweep of a valley, the chime of a distant village clock 
 how ideal, how peaceful, saith the visiting stranger. 
 Any one could work under such conditions ! 
 
 But could he? Wait! Hearken! 
 
 There is a tramp of feet, all striking the hard, pebbly 
 path with martial energy. Some one is exercising a 
 company of soldiers beneath the latticed window, with 
 the "Hi! 'Ell! Ump!" caught from the local 
 drill-sergeant. 
 
 Eight footsteps fall as one. Arms of various caliber 
 are grounded with a clatter immediately beneath the sill. 
 Then the drill-sergeant proceeds to point out the short- 
 
 3
 
 4 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 comings of his units with the brusque directness pecul- 
 iar to his profession. 
 
 "You, Sweetheart, are a goose ! I saw you looking 
 over your shoulder thrice, to see if any one was coming. 
 You are frightened of any one seeing you ! Proper 
 soldiers aren't frightened!" 
 
 "They would be if they were girls, and had to wear 
 Zouave trousers!" said Sweetheart, with point. 
 
 "Coward! Coward!" said Sergeant-Major Hugh 
 John, tauntingly. 
 
 Sweetheart threw down her arms with an extreme 
 haughtiness fitted to chill all beholders. 
 
 "Won't play at your silly soldiers !" she cried. "So, 
 there!" 
 
 "Mutiny! Mutiny!" shouted the commander-in- 
 chief. "Seize her! To the dungeon with her !" 
 
 This, of course, he knew very well they could not do. 
 For, firstly, fleetfoot Sweetheart could run faster than 
 any of them. And, secondly, as soon as any punish- 
 ment was attempted, Sir Toady Lion would take the 
 side of the person attacked. He was the Buck, ever 
 ready for the fray. There remained Maid Margaret, 
 who would only laugh. 
 
 Never was a commander-in-chief more helpless. 
 Dignity forbade him to yield directly. Yet what gen- 
 eral can face his entire force in a state of mutiny ?
 
 TALES TOLD FROM "IVANHOE" 5 
 
 "I resign the command of this army!" said Hugh 
 John. "Elect whom you please. I have done with 
 you ! You are worse than John Silver's buccaneers 
 you you disgraces to civilisation !" 
 
 The army disbanded without showing any signs of 
 its degraded position. Part immediately betook itself to 
 the kennels to sing to the dogs. This was Sir Toady 
 Lion. He had discovered that there was one long- 
 drawn falsetto note "with a dying fall" which no dog 
 could resist. In five minutes he had them all singing 
 away in maddening chorus. From my desk I could 
 discern the "wolf's long howl on Oonalaska's shore," 
 which proceeded from that first cousin of the wolf, our 
 deerhound Ross. Huge "Boom-pluff" Sampson thun- 
 dered an earth-shaking bass, and even Sir Toady's 
 own fox-terrier pointed his nose to the sky and sang 
 with shrill rapture. 
 
 Maid Margaret sat on a post and applauded. If she 
 had known she would have gone for an ancient bugle, 
 which, with the nozzle of a pair of bellows thrust deep 
 into its battered throat, produced sounds calculated to 
 freeze the blood of a licensed victualler. But as it was, 
 the entertainment was too good. She could not miss a 
 fleeting moment. Such moments are too rare. Here 
 the superior force comes on the scene. 
 
 For a faithful author seeking inspiration (with his
 
 6 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 head between his hands and cotton-wool in his ears) 
 felt the charm somewhat less. He selected a supple but 
 efficient ash-plant, surnamed "Early Piety," from a 
 rack crowded with umbrellas and camera legs, which 
 stood by the door. Then he stepped softly out. 
 
 But that wide-awake youth Toady Lion had caught 
 the slight rasping sound made by "Early Piety" on 
 the rim of the umbrella stand. So that when I de- 
 scended the steps into the lower garden, there were only 
 the hounds left to chastise. 
 
 A single application of the ash-plant sent them whim- 
 pering to their private apartments. 
 
 Remained the real culprits. These I discovered 
 perched like crows upon the paling, which has for office 
 to separate the home plantation from the big woods 
 six miles of woodlands free behind, every inch known 
 to them. I could have caught them, of course. But 
 somehow I didn't want to. It was a hot day, and Rus- 
 sian tactics were more comfortable. So I prepared to 
 beat a masterly retreat the only thing I could find 
 to beat, owing to these rascally woods. 
 
 However, I rebuked them for making so much noise. 
 They listened with their usual hypocritical humility. 
 But I am far from being taken in by assumed penitence. 
 
 "It was the dogs," Sir Toady explained ; "I was try- 
 ing to stop them!"
 
 TALES TOLD FROM "IVANHOE" 7 
 
 "Oh, you story !" broke out his elder brother, invol- 
 untarily. Then correcting himself on the verge of tale- 
 bearing, the one Sin Without Forgiveness, he added, 
 "Of course I didn't see ! I wasn't there !" 
 
 "No," said I, "and of course not one of you knows 
 anything about it!" 
 
 In this I was correct. They had all heard the dogs, 
 but none of them knew anything about "why they 
 went on so." 
 
 Toady Lion volunteered the suggestion that "it 
 might be the weather." 
 
 Nice dependable young persons ! Yet I commended 
 their solidarity, and when I had finished, Sweetheart, 
 who is an adept in changing the subject, remarked that 
 if I would only "tell them another story," it would 
 be certain to "make the boys behave." 
 
 This is Sweetheart's philosophy. Girls behave by 
 nature. They are made so. Boys, on the contrary, 
 need to be coerced into behaviour or bribed. 
 
 Well, my afternoon was spoilt at any rate, and in a 
 weak moment I said, "Well, come on then!" 
 
 "It's all right !" announced Sweetheart to the boys, 
 who had been hovering farther off along the edges of 
 the woods ; "he's going to tell a story !" 
 
 How often have I represented to them that "he" 
 is the cat, and that the word "father" is at once more 
 natural and more descriptive.
 
 8 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 They broke for the plantation green with cries of joy 
 which had the effect of setting the dogs to their orisons 
 again. But this time Sir Toady entered the bricked 
 court and remorselessly kicked them into silence. He 
 has a way with him, this young man. 
 
 "Stories from Ivanhoe! Nonsense !" I said, when I 
 had yielded so far as to allow them to install themselves 
 under the shade of a great beech, and begin to eat 
 grass like so many oxen. "No indeed ! Ivanhoe 
 you can read that for yourselves " 
 
 "Only the fighting at the tournament!" said Hugh 
 John. 
 
 "The shooting-match," said Sir Toady, "because it 
 is in our school reader, and we can't help it !" 
 
 "I don't know nothin' about it at all!" said Maid 
 Margaret, secure in the pure virtue of entire ignorance ; 
 "goon. Tell me!" 
 
 "Besides," coaxed Sweetheart, "ever so many people 
 have written to you asking for ' Ivanhoe ' stories. And 
 they surely know what's good for them. Only please 
 make Wilfred marry " 
 
 Now I knew well what this reckless young person 
 was about to recommend. So I silenced her by telling 
 her that if she wished to take liberties with the Great
 
 THE KEEPER OF SWINE 9 
 
 Unknown and his characters, she had better tell the 
 tale over to herself. But I did not need to insist. 
 The other listeners know very well "when he is just 
 going to begin," and woe be to the wretch who inter- 
 jects a remark likely to turn "him" from his purpose. 
 "Shut up, Sis!" "Sssssshut up, will you!" came 
 from all sides. Sweetheart shrank back into alarmed 
 silence. The trio settled themselves to eat grass with 
 bovine steadiness and devotion, and I began 
 
 THE FIRST TALE FROM "iVANHOE." 
 
 THE FIRST TALE FROM "IVANHOE" 
 
 I. THE KEEPER OF SWINE 
 
 IN the deepest glades of the forest of Sherwood, Gurth 
 the swineherd and Wamba the Jester were getting their 
 unhandy flock together. Or rather Fangs the wolfish 
 lurcher, half mastiff, half greyhound, did it for them. 
 
 This all happened a long time ago. For round each 
 of the men's necks was soldered a broad ring of brass, 
 marking them for "thralls" of one Cedric of Rother- 
 ham. Also Fangs had three toes cut from each fore- 
 foot as his badge of servitude to the Norman forest- 
 ranger who had caught him chasing the deer.
 
 io RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 Yes, it was so long ago as that. Richard of the Lion 
 Heart was king of England, or rather he ought to 
 have been. But he had gone a-crusading to the Holy 
 Land to deliver the Holy Sepulchre instead of staying at 
 home to help deliver his people, who were not accounted 
 holy at all. He had not got on very well, however, in 
 spite of all his courage. Knights Templar and Knights 
 of the Order of St. John had thwarted him, counting 
 Palestine entirely their own; while his enemy, the 
 Duke of Austria, had seized him on his return journey, 
 and shut him up in the castle of Durrenstein on the 
 Danube, in hopes of obtaining a great ransom before 
 letting loose on the world so famous a king. 
 
 At home, he was almost forgotten. Prince John, 
 his wild, half-cowardly, half-tyrannical brother, reigned 
 in his stead, and did not hurry about sending the money 
 for the royal ransom. 
 
 But Gurth the swineherd and his friend Wamba the 
 Jester did not talk much about these things in the glades 
 of Sherwood. Low in the west a thunder-storm was 
 rumbling. The swine would take no leading. Even 
 Fangs only drove them hither and thither, instead of 
 collecting them for their homeward journey. Gurth's 
 temper was uncertain at the best, and Wamba, fool 
 though he was, took care not to provoke his comrade 
 beyond a certain point.
 
 THE KEEPER OF SWINE n 
 
 "Let them go," he said, as the pigs broke away; 
 "they will be all Normans before the morning and 
 so be no more trouble to you !" 
 
 "What do you mean, fool?" growled Gurth the 
 thrall, letting the gleam of a red and sullen eye fall upon 
 the cap-and-bells of the fool; "I have no time to be 
 guessing riddles to-night!" 
 
 "What do you call these grunting beasts running 
 about on four legs?" asked Wamba the Fool, pointing 
 to the herd which Fangs was at last beginning to get 
 into order. 
 
 "Why, swine, of course, fool!" growled Gurth, 
 "every ass knows that!" 
 
 "And those white woolly fellows on the slopes 
 yonder?" he continued. 
 
 "Sheep, of course, fool!" 
 
 "Yes," Wamba went on, making his cap nod and his 
 bells jingle, "and at home in the pen at your cottage- 
 end are several little milk-swilling masters whose name 
 is ' Calf ' for the present. But these, when they appear 
 upon the table of your betters, will be called Monsieur 
 Veal, like good Normans. For, look you, good Gurth, as 
 long as these beasts need tending and feeding they are 
 Saxon, Swine, Sheep, Calf, all good Saxon. But 
 when they come to be eaten, it is by Norman teeth and 
 under Norman names, as pork, veal, mutton ! What
 
 12 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 say you to that, Gurth the swineherd friend Gurth 
 the swineherd?" 
 
 Gurth sadly shook his head. 
 
 "It is but too true," he muttered ; " little is left to us 
 Saxons now hardly even the air to breathe. The 
 best of everything for them scarce the leavings re- 
 main to us and even these given with a grudge !" 
 
 "Treason against the Norman!" cried Wamba. 
 "What if I were to tell Reginald Front de Bceuf or 
 Philip de Malvoisin that you spoke thus why, if so, 
 you were but a castaway herdsman. Why, man, you 
 would waver in the wind from one of these Sherwood 
 trees, like a broken-necked reed in the winds of winter !" 
 
 The storm now began to creep nearer, but by the help 
 of Fangs, Gurth managed to head his charge homewards 
 so as to escape before the breaking of the tempest. 
 But Wamba's ear caught the sound of horses' hoofs, 
 the jingle of rich caparisons, the clink of knightly 
 armour. 
 
 Now Gurth, whose master was Cedric the Saxon, 
 was noways anxious that armed Normans (for such the 
 riders were almost sure to be) should come across his 
 charge. Herds of swine were easily driven to the near- 
 est castle and the herdsman left lying with a wound in 
 his throat, so deep and wide that the open mouth above 
 it would never more tell tales. So he hastened his
 
 THE KEEPER OF SWINE 13 
 
 march as best he might. But Wamba looked out for 
 every village maid who passed, waving her a salute, or 
 snatching here a handful of brambles and there a 
 cluster of nuts by the wayside, in despite of both storms 
 and Normans. 
 
 At last the horsemen came up, ten in number, of 
 whom two were obviously chiefs. The first was a 
 churchman with little churchly about him, save the 
 outward fashion of his robes. In fact it was no other 
 than Aymer, the Prior of the Abbey of Jorvaux, a jolly 
 priest and a lover of all good cheer and good company. 
 There was accounted to be no great harm in him, and 
 at sight of his monkish robe Gurth heaved a sigh of 
 relief. But when he looked at the other, it was different. 
 He, too, wore a monkish mantle. But underneath 
 gleamed a suit of chain mail. His face was burned 
 almost black with exposure to Eastern suns, while the 
 Maltese cross on his shoulder proclaimed him a cru- 
 sader, and one of the famous and powerful Order of 
 Knights of the Temple. His dusky followers were 
 slaves captured from the Saracen, now serving a new 
 master while retaining the dress, customs, and weapons 
 of the old. 
 
 So astonished was Wamba the Jester at the sudden 
 appearance of these dark faces and gleaming weapons, 
 that he could hardly collect himself enough to misdirect
 
 i 4 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 them when they demanded the road to the house of his 
 master, with whom they might find shelter and hos- 
 pitality for the night. 
 
 For Cedric the Saxon had stood bravely in the breach. 
 He had upheld his countrymen in perilous times, and 
 now was likely enough to suffer for it. Wamba the Fool 
 resolved that it should not happen through him. 
 
 "Go to the left after you pass the Sunken Cross," 
 he said, "and within a mile or two you will come 
 without fail to the house of our master." 
 
 But when they were both gone, monk and crusader 
 alike, he held up his hands before his face, looked from 
 one to the other, and cried out that never had there been 
 such luck. He had mistaken his right hand for his 
 left! 
 
 But this stratagem did little good either to the fool 
 or to his master. For at the foot of the Cross, when 
 they came to it, lay a man worn out with weariness, by 
 his dress a "palmer" or returned pilgrim to the Holy 
 Sepulchre. The Crusader bade thrust him with the 
 lance-butt to awake him. But before the slave could 
 obey the man sprung up, and, upon hearing their need, 
 offered immediately to guide them to the dwelling of 
 Cedric the Saxon, which he declared to be intricately 
 situated in the midst of marshes and woods, and not 
 to be found without assistance.
 
 WAMBA MISDIRECTS PRIOR AVMER AND THE TEMPLAR.
 
 THE KEEPER OF SWINE 15 
 
 To the Crusader's reproach, that, being a palmer, he 
 had better have remained to fight for the recovery of the 
 tomb of Christ from the infidel, he replied as fiercely, 
 that "when those under oath to recover the Holy City 
 were found so far afield, it was no wonder if simple 
 peasants grew tired of the task which their betters had 
 abandoned !" 
 
 The Templar was about to make some angry reply, 
 but the Prior, who desired most of all to reach some 
 place of shelter for the night, checked him, and soon 
 they came in sight of Rotherham. 
 
 The dwelling of Cedric was an extensive building, or 
 rather collection of buildings a real "town" of the 
 Saxons. It was no mere Norman keep or tall cliff of 
 masonry with a few huts of retainers battened upon 
 it like so many swallows' nests of mud, but a real 
 dwelling for men of different ranks men who, 
 though not equal, yet even as master and thrall 
 respected each other, and counted all from "jarl" to 
 swineherd as of one family. 
 
 Rotherham was not defenceless. It had fosse, stock- 
 ade, and drawbridge, according to the rules of war. 
 Indeed Cedric's enemies, of whom he had many, 
 declared that it was but a perpetual armed camp, like
 
 16 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 that of his ancestor Hereward, threatening the tall 
 stone castles of his Norman neighbours. Gurth was 
 late in arriving, and Cedric the Saxon had long grown 
 most uneasy. Though his words were rough, he loved 
 his thralls like a father, and he much feared that some 
 Norman free-lance had stolen the herd and left their 
 faithful guardian lying in his blood, as had often been 
 done before to others of his nation and calling. 
 
 Cedric of Rotherham was a stout, hearty man of great 
 courage and general good nature, but with an eye which 
 denoted frequent bouts of temper. 
 
 "Ah," he muttered to himself as he thought of his 
 wrongs, "if only Wilfred had not been so hot and 
 foolish, I should not have been left alone among these 
 hungry Norman tyrants." 
 
 But just then the horn of the Templar without the 
 gate waked him from sad thoughts of his absent son. 
 He ordered the strangers to be received and well cared 
 for all the more so that they were Normans, and 
 the Templar, at least, a man of dangerous reputation. 
 Cedric would be accounted, even by his foes, no nig- 
 gard churl. 
 
 "Oswald," he said to his butler, "go broach the old- 
 est cask, pour out the most sparkling cider, the richest 
 mead, the moral of honey and mulberries and" (here 
 he turned to a smart waiting-maid) "let the Lady
 
 THE KEEPER OF SWINE 17 
 
 Rowena know that to-night we shall not expect her in 
 hall, unless such be her especial pleasure!" 
 
 "But it will be her especial pleasure," returned the 
 maid, pertly, like one who is sure of her favour, "for I 
 warrant she will like to hear the latest news from Pales- 
 tine!" 
 
 "Silence," cried Cedric; "deliver my message without 
 comment. If the Lady Rowena comes, we must make 
 the best of it. Here at least she shall reign like the 
 daughter of King Alfred !" 
 
 The handmaiden had spoken truth. Either curiosity 
 or the desire to tease her protector perhaps also in 
 part Elgitha's account of the two gallant Norman 
 gentlemen brought the Lady Rowena to the hall as 
 usual, where the Prior paid her compliments, and the 
 Templar stared her out of countenance till she was 
 obliged to draw her veil about her face. 
 
 Meanwhile the night had broken into fiercer storm 
 without, and the guests were hardly seated, before a yet 
 more bedraggled wayfarer was announced this time 
 a Jew, one Isaac of York by name. He was an old 
 man, tall and spare, clad in the long gabardine and 
 yellow cap of his race. His welcome was of the most 
 scanty. Cedric indeed insisted on admitting him 
 though the Normans, his first guests, cried sacrilege 
 and cursed the Israelite aloud. None, however, made
 
 i8 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 place for him at the table. The sturdy Saxon men-at- 
 arms squared their shoulders and went on eating. Even 
 the Saracen slaves laid their hands on their daggers and 
 growled threats against the "Yahoudi!" 
 
 So that after having gone from one end of the hall to 
 the other, looking vainly about him for a friendly face, 
 the old man was about to retire, hoping to find, perhaps, 
 some kindlier shelter among the cattle in byre or barn, 
 when a hand was laid on his arm. He started violently, 
 for grasps which fell thus upon Jewish gabardines were 
 not generally those of friendly fingers. This time, how- 
 ever, it was the palmer, who had quitted the great chim- 
 ney corner and now drew the Jew to his vacant place. 
 
 "I have eaten," he said ; "my clothes are now dry 
 you are both wet and hungry. Sit down !" 
 
 And walking to the board with the freedom of his 
 order, he brought the persecuted Jew a smoking mess 
 of pottage and seethed kid heaped together in a great 
 platter. 
 
 In the hall about the high table the talk had fallen 
 as usual upon the Wars of the Holy Places, and who 
 were the bravest of the Crusaders. The Templar De 
 Bois-Guilbert held for his own order, as was natural. 
 The Prior, for the Knights Hospitaller, because he 
 had a brother of that order. Cedric maintained that 
 Richard, their English King, had taken with him the
 
 THE KEEPER OF SWINE 19 
 
 bravest of the brave the pick of the nation, Saxon 
 and Norman alike. 
 
 Suddenly the palmer, who had been listening, unseen, 
 to the discussion, struck in as Cedric ceased speaking. 
 
 ''Right," he said; "I saw our King Richard and 
 five of his knights, after the taking of Acre, hold a 
 tournament against all comers. On that famous day 
 each of the six English knights ran three courses, and 
 threw to the ground three opponents. And Sir Brian 
 de Bois-Guilbert well knows the truth of what I say!" 
 
 The Templar purpled with anger, for he had been 
 one of those fallen opponents. He gripped his sword as 
 if on the spot he would have slain the palmer. But 
 this he could not do, because Cedric, simple and child- 
 like of heart, openly triumphed in the news so oppor- 
 tunely brought by the pilgrim. 
 
 "What did I tell you?" he cried; "I wager there 
 were Saxons among them. I will set a gold bracelet on 
 your wrist if you will but tell me their names." 
 
 "That will I do," said the palmer, "but without 
 reward. I have a vow which keeps me from touching 
 gold in this house," he added, in his heart. 
 
 "The King was first," said the palmer, "that day as 
 always. After him came the Earl of Leicester. Sir 
 Thomas Multon of Gilsland was the third." 
 
 "Of Saxon descent, he at least !" cried Cedric.
 
 20 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 "SirFoulkDoilly!" 
 
 "Saxon by his mother's side !" cried Cedric, clapping 
 his thigh. 
 
 "Then Sir Edward Turneham!" 
 
 "Genuine Saxon, by the soul of Hengist!" shouted 
 Cedric ; "now name the sixth. If he should also prove 
 Saxon, that would put us as far forward as we were on 
 the day of the Battle of the Standard, when we fought 
 the Scots side by side with the Normans!" 
 
 The palmer hesitated. For the first time his memory 
 seemed confused. 
 
 "I have forgotten," he said; "it was, I believe, a 
 young knight who was added, more to make up the 
 number than because of any bravery or skill." 
 
 "Sir Palmer," cried the Templar, "you shall not 
 thus escape after remembering so much. I will tell 
 the name of this last knight, before whom, owing to a 
 splintered lance and a faulty horse, even I went down. 
 He was called the Knight of Ivanhoe. Nor was there 
 one of the six, for his years, that had more renown in 
 arms. But this I will say and loudly, that were he in 
 England and dared repeat in this week's tournament at 
 Ashby the challenge of Acre, I would gladly give him 
 every choice and advantage of weapons and abide the 
 result." 
 
 "Words are cheap," said the palmer; "if Wilfred of
 
 THE KEEPER OF SWINE 31 
 
 Ivanhoe were in England, he would take up your chal- 
 lenge and even now I will be security for him !" 
 
 "Faith, a goodly security!" sneered the Templar, 
 looking at the poor garb of the pilgrim; "and what do 
 you offer as a pledge?" 
 
 "This precious casket of ivory containing a piece of 
 the true cross, brought from the Monastery of Mount 
 Carmel!" said the other, instantly setting a beautiful 
 box upon the table. 
 
 At sight of it the Prior reverently crossed himself, and 
 said a Paternoster aloud, in which all except the Jew, 
 the Moslems, and the Templar joined. The latter 
 merely took from his neck a golden chain, which he flung 
 on the table, crying, "Let Prior Aymer hold my pledge 
 and that of this nameless vagrant, in token that so 
 soon as the Knight of Ivanhoe comes within the four 
 seas, he must fight Brian de Bois-Guilbert, or be pro- 
 claimed a coward on the walls of every Temple Court in 
 Europe !" 
 
 "And I also will be surety for him," cried the Lady 
 Rowena, checking herself with a bright flush as if she 
 would gladly have said more if she had dared. 
 
 "And I, myself, though offended and justly offended 
 I would be the boy's surety, if such were needed !" 
 growled Cedric, across whose face pride, anger, and 
 scarcely concealed pleasure had been chasing each other.
 
 22 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 "Now we must to bed !" said the Prior, who, though 
 fond of company, was a man of peace, and saw that in 
 such a house, betwixt Saxon host and Norman guest, a 
 little spark might kindle a very great fire. 
 
 ******* 
 
 H. COUNCIL OF CONNOISSEURS 
 
 There was a serious pause. At another time I should 
 have known what that meant. Sometimes, when much 
 in the humour, I have been known to "keep on," and 
 so get them off "Prep" or "Stale" which, as all 
 boys know, consists in pretending to do to-morrow's 
 class lessons and doing something else for to-day. On 
 this occasion, however, there could be no such intention. 
 For it was the heart of the "Long," when lessons and 
 the need to do them were as far from their minds as the 
 Hydrography of the Mountains of the Moon or any 
 other "ography," "ometry, " or "ology" whatsoever. 
 Chocolate creams and more fruit than was good for 
 them, for the moment bounded their desires. Fre- 
 quently I had represented the folly of this. 
 
 "There is," I pointed out, "always a to-morrow when 
 one must pay for having ' too much ' of anything in this 
 world." "The little more and how much it is," I 
 quoted to them, directing their thoughts to the family
 
 COUNCIL OF CONNOISSEURS 23 
 
 medicine chest. 'But all four were rank opportunists, 
 and went on serenely picking gooseberries. 
 
 "Oh, bother To-morrow!" said Sir Toady Lion, 
 always the chief scorner of the wisdom of the ages. 
 His buoyant youth cares about no greybeard sermon 
 that is, till it comes to the application, and even that 
 had better be brought home to him with an ash-plant. 
 
 As they ate grass and sorrel stalks afterwards they 
 threw comments over their shoulders. Some of these 
 concerned the quality of the juice, while others were 
 designed to compel me to continue the tale of Saxon 
 and Norman without conditions. A few, but those of 
 modern and informative character, concerned the part 
 of the story I had been telling them. 
 
 "D'ye ever notice," said Hugh John, the elder of the 
 two boys, to his standing accomplice, Sir Toady Lion, 
 "that there are always storms coming on at the be- 
 ginning of books? Then all the good people scuttle 
 somewhere else to keep dry, just where the bad people 
 are waiting to nab them?" 
 
 Toady Lion, cramming four sorrel stalks into his 
 mouth at once so as not to lose time, replied that he 
 had noticed it, but that on this occasion it was the bad 
 people whom the storm drove out of their way to find 
 the good people. 
 
 "I don't like that one they found pretending to be
 
 24 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 asleep by the Sunken Cross him that told them the 
 road, you know!" he added seriously. 
 
 At this Sweetheart smiled serenely and glanced at me. 
 She likes to be " in the know." Besides, she has already 
 read the book, though she very kindly listens all the 
 same. Hugh John caught the look, to which he par- 
 ticularly objected. 
 
 "Sis Sweetheart thinks she is mighty clever," he 
 cried; "she is looking over at father. I bet that old 
 palmer fellow was somebody. I bet he's Richard Coeur 
 de Lion come back again the fellow you were named 
 after (this he explained in an aside to Sir Toady 
 Lion), and he's going to make old Templar Brian de 
 Something- Just- Awful- Grand as sick as he can be. 
 I'll bet you my new knife to your old catapult it goes 
 like that!" 
 
 "Of course," agreed Sir Toady; "any fellow could 
 see that. But I don't believe that he is King Richard 
 not grand enough, nearly!" 
 
 "Oh," sneered Hugh John, with whom irony was a 
 favourite mode of expression, "I suppose he should 
 have come home as an archbishop, or dressed up like 
 a Lion holding his 'heart' between his teeth !" 
 
 "You nasty, horrid boy !" exclaimed Sweetheart, who 
 has a dislike to the metaphors of the butcher's shop. 
 
 Meanwhile Maid Margaret, official Wheedler-in-
 
 COUNCIL OF CONNOISSEURS 25 
 
 Chief to the quartette, perched herself upon the tale- 
 teller's knee, and addressed the following words in a 
 low tone in his immediate ear : 
 
 "Won't you mumble-mumble then -they will 
 stop . . . mumble-mumble ? Boys is so silly, you 
 know!" 
 
 Girls, of course, are anything but. For at that 
 moment she pleaded for a continuation of the tale, 
 pressing a wisp of blond curl soft as silk against my 
 cheek, and letting the words "Won't you won't you 
 NOW?" escape with a liquid gurgle from her throat, 
 so that the Second Tale from Ivanhoe was as good as 
 told. But I did not mind. Maid Margaret lay still 
 in my lap, listening, and encouraging the narrator with 
 soft little pats and caresses, which fell indiscriminately 
 on his cheek, neck, nose, hair, and coat collar. 
 
 The boys, especially Hugh John, sniffed loudly upon 
 the nose of contempt. But the Maid kept on, not 
 minding them a bit. She knew her business value. 
 And in their heart of hearts they, too, knew the power of 
 such things. Not for nothing, but very much for the 
 advantage of the community, had she been named 
 Wheedler-in-Chief to the forces in the field.
 
 2 6 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 THE SECOND TALE FROM "IVANHOE" 
 
 I. THE SPLINTERED LANCES OF ASHBY 
 
 ON the morrow the house of Cedric the Saxon awoke 
 to find itself lacking two of its guests. The palmer and 
 the Jew Isaac of York had departed silently in the 
 night. Gurth the swineherd, too, had mysteriously 
 vanished. Another must lead out his grunting charge 
 that morning into the oaken glades of Sherwood. 
 
 And all owing to certain words spoken in the Saracen 
 tongue, which the palmer had overheard the Templar 
 address to his slaves the night before, ordering them to 
 seize the Jew, and convey him for torture and ransom 
 to the keep of one of the cruel Norman lords who were 
 Cedric's immediate neighbours. 
 
 It had proved a busy night for the palmer. First he 
 had been commanded to speak with the Lady Rowena, 
 who wished to know more about Wilfred of Ivanhoe, the 
 knight of whom he had spoken in hall. Then, return- 
 ing to his cell, he had awakened the Jew, in order to 
 tell him of his danger, and last of all the surly swineherd 
 Gurth, in whose ear he whispered a word which brought 
 him out of his bed and to his knees in a moment. 
 
 In the morning, therefore, there was in Rotherham no 
 palmer to give further news of the absent to the Lady
 
 THE SPLINTERED LANCES OF ASHBY 27 
 
 Rowena, no swineherd to guide the flocks of Cedric, 
 and no rich Jew from whom the Templar might extract 
 alternate teeth and sequins. 
 
 But in Rotherham also there was little time to think 
 of such things. None, except perhaps the Lady Row- 
 ena, thought of anything but the great tournament. 
 The Templar was the chief challenger at the lists of 
 Ashby. His pavilion was already erected in the midst 
 of the other four, between those of Front de Bceuf and 
 Philip de Malvoisin. Rowena and Cedric were on their 
 way as spectators. Isaac of York had joined his 
 daughter Rebecca, and both were already safe with 
 friends of their own nation. As for the palmer and 
 Gurth where these two had hidden themselves must 
 be told later. 
 
 Prince John, the King's half-rebel brother, was to 
 sit in the Royal seat at the lists. A long programme 
 had been arranged, beginning with the battles of steel- 
 clad knights, and ending with the popular sports, by 
 which the Prince hoped to win the commons to stand 
 by him, if ever his brother returned from captivity. 
 
 The tournament field was something like this an 
 enclosure of strong palings a quarter of a mile long and 
 half as broad. Within were five pavilions or large 
 decorated tents at the southern end, where there was a 
 kind of rising ground. These were for the challengers.
 
 28 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 A pennon waved from a lance before each, guarded by a 
 squire dressed as a savage or wild Man-of-the- Woods 
 from which custom comes the supporters upon heraldic 
 coats-of-arms. 
 
 Down either side there were pavilions built like grand- 
 stands for the princes and nobles with their ladies. A 
 lower belt of seats like the pit of a wide theatre was for 
 the rich yeomen and burghers, while about the barriers 
 thronged the commons broad in jest and free in 
 comment as ever. 
 
 Prince John, who hated all things Saxon, and who 
 had borrowed much money of Isaac of York, was mis- 
 chievously resolved to place the Jew and his daughter 
 next to the seats of Cedric and Rowena. Their neigh- 
 bour Athelstane of Coningsburgh, a Saxon of the line 
 royal, a strong but unready man, was sharply ordered 
 to move in order to make room. He sat still. 
 
 "Touch the Saxon porker with your lance, De 
 Bracy!" cried the Prince; "he is either asleep or else 
 minds me not!" 
 
 And De Bracy, a free-lance, who cared nothing either 
 for Saxon or Celt, and but little for Norman so that he 
 earned his pay, would have obeyed the Prince's order, 
 had not Cedric as swift as lightning unsheathed the 
 short sword he wore, and striking once, he severed the 
 point of De Bracy's lance from the shaft.
 
 THE SPLINTERED LANCES OF ASHBY 29 
 
 " Bravo! Oh, bravo!" cried a yeoman from the 
 crowd. Prince John, not venturing for the moment to 
 offend the Saxons further, bent angry brows upon the 
 bold yeoman, but the man went on applauding, nothing 
 daunted. Fiercely Prince John demanded what he 
 meant by clamouring so in his hearing. 
 
 "I always add my hollo," answered the man, "when 
 I see a good shot or a gallant blow !" 
 
 "Sayst thou," sneered the Prince; "then I warrant 
 you can hit the white yourself?" 
 
 "A woodman's mark, at woodman's distance I can 
 hit!" quoth the yeoman. 
 
 "Well," cried the Prince, "we will try you." 
 
 "Ay, Wat Tyrrel's mark at a hundred yards!" 
 cried a voice from the crowd, meaning that even Prince 
 John must not presume too far, or the fate of William 
 Rufus, his not distant kinsman, might be his. The 
 Prince's face flushed, partly with fear, more with anger. 
 But the speaker remained invisible, so that he could do 
 no more than order his escort to keep an eye on "that 
 braggart," as he called the yeoman who had applauded 
 Cedric's stroke. 
 
 Still, however, he insisted on the Jew climbing up to 
 sit beside the Saxon lords, whom he delighted above all 
 things to humiliate. 
 
 "Up with you," he bade the unwilling Isaac, "or I
 
 30 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 will have your infidel hide tanned for horse furniture ! 
 And let me see who dares to hinder you !" 
 
 Cedric the Saxon was obviously prepared to hurl the 
 Jew down as soon as he reached the top of the narrow 
 stairs, and in that case a serious outbreak might have 
 been expected. But Wamba the Jester, who had brought 
 a solid square of brawn with him, wherewith to while 
 away the long hours of tourneying, suddenly thrust it 
 in the Jew's face like a shield, and, waving his sword of 
 lath over his head, so terrified the old man that he 
 stumbled and fell headlong down the ladder. 
 
 At this every one laughed, and Prince John thought it 
 well to laugh also. 
 
 "Make room for the Jew in the lower ring," he said, 
 "we cannot put the victor on the same level as the 
 vanquished." And, demanding a handful of gold 
 byzants from the Jew, he threw a couple of them to the 
 fool and rode off, amid as much laughter and applause 
 from the spectators as if he had done some honest and 
 worthy deed. 
 
 The first assault upon the challengers was made by 
 parties of five, chosen by lot out of the crowd of knights 
 gathered in the southern enclosure. It was All- 
 comers' Day. But Bois-Guilbert and Front de Boeuf
 
 THE SPLINTERED LANCES OF ASHBY 31 
 
 with their companions were easily victors somewhat 
 too easily indeed to please Cedric the Saxon, who hinted 
 hopes of glory to his companion Athelstane of Conings- 
 burgh to spur him on to match his huge strength against 
 the victorious Normans. 
 
 But he only replied, lazily as ever, that he did not 
 think it worth while to arm to-day, but that he would 
 tilt in the melee to-morrow. 
 
 After the fourth tilt, however, there was a general 
 and marked disinclination to try conclusions with 
 challengers who had so often been victorious, and espe- 
 cially with Front de Bceuf and the redoubtable De Bois- 
 Guilbert. 
 
 The Saracen music breathed ever more harshly and 
 scornfully from behind the Northern tents, and it was 
 only after long waiting that a solitary trumpet blew, and, 
 the gates being opened, a challenger clad in steel and 
 gold with his visor down rode into the lists. He had on 
 his shield the device of a young oak pulled up by the 
 roots, and the Spanish motto "DESDICHADO, " which 
 means Disinherited. 
 
 After their manner the crowd, Saxons mainly, was 
 friendly to the newcomer. 
 
 "Take Vipont!" they cried, giving the name of the 
 one of the challengers who was accounted the weakest. 
 
 But instead the Disinherited Knight rode straight up
 
 32 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 to the pavilion of De Bois-GuUbert, and struck the sus- 
 pended shield with the sharp end of his lance till the 
 steel rang again. 
 
 [But even to listening bairns I could not bring myself 
 to retell the Passage of Arms at Ashby in other words 
 than those of the Master. So I took the book itself 
 from my pocket, and opening at the best-thumbed 
 passage I read aloud the moving pages, which have been, 
 in all times, a boy's best introduction to Sir Walter.] 
 
 The two champions stood opposed at the two extremi- 
 ties of the lists. The public expectation was strained to 
 the highest pitch. 
 
 The trumpets had no sooner given the signal, than 
 the champions vanished from their posts with the speed 
 of lightning, and closed in the centre of the lists with the 
 shock of a thunderbolt. The lances burst into shivers 
 up to the very grasp, and it seemed at the moment that 
 both knights had fallen, for the shock had made each 
 horse recoil backwards upon its haunches. The address 
 of the riders recovered their steeds by use of the bridle 
 and spur ; and having glared on each other for an instant 
 with eyes which seemed to flash fire through the bars
 
 THE SPLINTERED LANCES OF ASHBY 33 
 
 of their visors, each made a demivolt, and, retiring to 
 the extremity of the lists, received a fresh lance from the 
 attendants. 
 
 A loud shout from the spectators, waving of scarfs 
 and handkerchiefs, and general acclamations, attested 
 the interest taken by the spectators in this encounter; 
 the most equal, as well as the best performed, which had 
 graced the day. But no sooner had the knights re- 
 sumed their station, than the clamour of applause was 
 hushed into a silence, so deep and so dead, that it seemed 
 the multitude were afraid even to breathe. 
 
 A few minutes' pause having been allowed, that the 
 combatants and their horses might recover breath, 
 Prince John with his truncheon signed to the trumpets 
 to sound the onset. The champions a second time 
 sprang from their stations, and closed in the centre of 
 the lists, with the same speed, the same dexterity, the 
 same violence, but not the same equal fortune, as before. 
 
 In this second encounter, the Templar aimed at the 
 centre of his antagonist's shield, and struck it so fair and 
 forcibly, that his spear went to shivers, and the Disin- 
 herited Knight reeled in his saddle. On the other hand, 
 that champion had, in the beginning of his career, 
 directed the point of his lance towards Bois-Guilbert's 
 shield, but, changing his aim almost in the moment of 
 encounter, he addressed it to the helmet, a mark more
 
 34 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 difficult to hit, but which, if attained, rendered the shock 
 more irresistible. Fair and true he hit the Norman on 
 the visor, where his lance's point kept hold of the bars. 
 Yet, even at this disadvantage, the Templar sustained 
 his high reputation, and had not the girths of his saddle 
 burst, he might not have been unhorsed. As it chanced, 
 however, saddle, horse, and man rolled on the ground 
 under a cloud of dust. 
 
 To extricate himself from the stirrups and fallen 
 steed was to the Templar scarce the work of a moment ; 
 and, stung with madness, both at his disgrace and at the 
 acclamations with which it was hailed by the spectators, 
 he drew his sword, and waved it in defiance of his con- 
 queror. The Disinherited Knight sprang from his 
 steed, and also unsheathed his sword. The marshals 
 of the field, however, spurred their horses between 
 them, and reminded them that the laws of the tourna- 
 ment did not, on the present occasion, permit this species 
 of encounter. 
 
 "We shall meet again, I trust," said the Templar, 
 casting a resentful glance at his antagonist ; "and where 
 there are none to separate us." 
 
 "If we do not," said the Disinherited Knight, "the 
 fault shall not be mine. On foot, or horseback, with 
 spear, with axe, or with sword, I am alike ready to 
 encounter you."
 
 THE SPLINTERED LANCES OF ASHBY 35 
 
 Without again alighting from his horse, the con- 
 queror called for a bowl of wine, and, opening the 
 beaver or lower part of his helmet, announced that he 
 quaffed it, "To all true English hearts, and to the con- 
 fusion of foreign tyrants." He then commanded his 
 trumpet to sound a defiance to the challengers, and 
 desired a herald to announce to them that he should 
 make no election, but was willing to encounter them in 
 the order in which they pleased to advance against him. 
 
 The gigantic Front de Bceuf , armed in sable armour, 
 was the first who took the field. He bore on a white 
 shield a black bull's head, half defaced by the numerous 
 encounters which he had undergone, and bearing the 
 arrogant motto, "Cave, adsum" Over this champion 
 the Disinherited Knight obtained a slight but decisive 
 advantage. Both knights broke their lances fairly, 
 but Front de Bceuf, who lost a stirrup in the encounter, 
 was adjudged to have the disadvantage. 
 
 In the stranger's third encounter, with Sir Philip 
 Malvoisin, he was equally successful ; striking that 
 baron so forcibly on the casque, that the laces of the 
 helmet broke, and Malvoisin, only saved from falling 
 by being unhelmeted, was declared vanquished like his 
 companions. 
 
 In his fourth combat, with De Grantmesnil, the Disin- 
 herited Knight showed as much courtesy as he had
 
 36 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 hitherto evinced courage and dexterity. De Grant- 
 mesnil's horse, which was young and violent, reared and 
 plunged in the course of the career so as to disturb the 
 rider's aim, and the stranger, declining to take the 
 advantage which this accident afforded him, raised his 
 lance, and, passing his antagonist without touching him, 
 wheeled his horse and rode back again to his own end 
 of the lists, offering his antagonist, by a herald, the 
 chance of a second encounter. This De Grantmesnil 
 declined, avowing himself vanquished as much by the 
 courtesy as by the address of his opponent. 
 
 Ralph de Vipont summed up the list of the stranger's 
 triumphs, being hurled to the ground with such force 
 that the blood gushed from his nose and mouth, and he 
 was borne senseless from the lists. 
 
 The acclamations of thousands applauded the unan- 
 imous award of the prince and marshals, announcing 
 that day's honours to the Disinherited Knight. 
 
 "Who is he? Who is this hard-driving fighter?" 
 Over and over the question was asked by those about 
 the person of Prince John. 
 
 "Some stray Crusader of King Richard's, straggling 
 home from Palestine," was the general answer. 
 
 " But who ? " they asked again. "Salisbury is bigger 
 in the bone Sir Thomas Multon ?" 
 
 "It might be the king perhaps Cceur de Lion
 
 THE SPLINTERED LANCES OF ASHBY 37 
 
 himself!" None knew from whom the whisper came, 
 but the very breath of it paled the cheek of Prince John. 
 
 " Over-Gods forbode!" cried he, using his favourite 
 oath, "Waldemar, Bracy, remember your promises 
 and stand by me!" 
 
 "No danger!" said Waldemar Fitzurse, the chief of 
 Prince John's councillors, a little scornfully; "are you 
 so ill acquainted with the gigantic limbs of your father's 
 son as to think that they could be contained by yonder 
 suit of armour?" 
 
 And the Prince Usurper was in fact somewhat re- 
 assured when the marshals brought forward the Disin- 
 herited Knight to receive his own prize of a noble 
 warhorse, and to hear his princely words of commenda- 
 tion. The victor received also the famous Crown of 
 Love and Beauty with full liberty to give it to any lady 
 present at the tournament, who, from that moment, 
 must be served by all with queenly honours so long as 
 the gathering lasted. 
 
 But the Prince, always building up with one hand 
 what he knocked down with the other, recommended 
 the victor to bestow the crown upon Alicia, the daughter 
 of the formidable Fitzurse, hoping thus to please his 
 chief councillor, and to make an enemy for the Disin- 
 herited in case of his choosing in another quarter. But 
 Fitzurse told him plainly that a dozen such Crowns of
 
 38 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 Love and Beauty would make no difference to his 
 daughter, and that it was the undoubted right of the 
 victor freely to choose a Liege Lady according to his 
 own mind. 
 
 So when the Disinherited laid his crown at the feet of 
 Rowena, all the Saxons shouted as at another victory 
 over the Normans. 
 
 They cried even in the hearing of the Prince : "Long 
 live the Saxon princess ! Long live the race of Alfred ! " 
 
 ******* 
 
 The short night passed quickly and busily. Few 
 slept at all. Armourers clanked hour after hour about 
 their glimmering fires on the outskirts of the camp, 
 altering and mending the arms and armour to be used 
 on the morrow. The royal guards were changed every 
 two hours, as were also those about the camps of the 
 knights. For such gatherings attracted robbers and 
 bandits from every quarter, and the whole neighbour- 
 hood of Ashby was notoriously unsafe. 
 
 Meanwhile the Disinherited One had withdrawn to 
 his tent, after declining with courtesy the invitation 
 of the Prince to banquet with him, on the plea of a 
 vow to keep his face covered for certain days. We 
 find him under the hands of a former swineherd, to 
 whom he had trusted his secret, and who that day
 
 THE SPLINTERED LANCES OF ASHBY 39 
 
 had with some success represented a Norman squire. 
 After having arranged with the messengers of the van- 
 quished knights for the ransom of their chargers and 
 armour upon easy terms, the Disinherited Knight sent 
 off Gurth with the price of the armour in which he 
 had fought to the Jew Isaac of York. 
 
 Eighty zecchins was the price, and Isaac, still shudder- 
 ing at the thought of the gold pieces the Prince had 
 reft from him that day in the lists, dropped them into his 
 purse to the very last one. But as Gurth descended the 
 stairs, a figure clad in white, standing in a doorway, 
 beckoned him mysteriously into a side chamber. 
 
 At the sight, the superstitious Saxon could hardly 
 restrain a cry of fear and astonishment. But he was 
 still more astonished when Rebecca, the beautiful 
 daughter of the Jew Isaac, thrust a bag of a hundred 
 gold pieces into his hand, telling him that her father had 
 but jested, and that he owed more to his master than 
 he could ever pay. Twenty of the tale he was to keep 
 for himself. His master had previously given him ten. 
 This day, therefore, went far beyond any day the swine- 
 herd had ever known. 
 
 "Such another," he muttered to himself, "and Gurth 
 will have enough red gold to redeem his bondage and 
 be as free as any man in England !" 
 
 Yet it was to be a night of adventures for the herds-
 
 40 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 man. It chanced that, in order to regain his master's 
 tent, he had to pass the straggling cottages, and plunge 
 between deep banks, on which the broom and the hazel 
 bushes stood up like black plumes against the light of 
 the harvest moon. 
 
 He had just reached the top of the copse when four 
 men sprang suddenly upon him out of the underbrush, 
 and, though he struggled valiantly, Gurth was soon 
 dragged along into a more open space, where two others 
 joined them, visored and equipped with short Saxon 
 swords at their sides. There was no need to tell him 
 that these were members of a robber band. 
 
 "What money have you?" demanded the leader. 
 
 "Thirty zecchins of mine own to purchase my 
 freedom!" said Gurth, determined to save his master's 
 wealth if he could, knowing how great need he would 
 have of it. Then came a further catechism to which 
 poor Gurth made such answers as he could find. He 
 explained that the money he carried (which the robbers 
 had soon snatched from him) was the ransom of the 
 knights who had that day been defeated. 
 
 "Then," said the chief, "your master, the Disin- 
 herited Knight, has let them off too easy only two 
 hundred zecchins for all the five horses and their 
 equipment!" 
 
 "And what," he continued, "were you doing so late
 
 THE SPLINTERED LANCES OF ASHBY 41 
 
 in Ashby? Paying Isaac the Jew for the horse and 
 armour he had lent to your master to fight in? How 
 much? Eighty zecchins, and he gave you a hundred 
 back ! Lying knave that you are ! A Jew gives noth- 
 ing back. If you tell us such lies we will have every 
 farthing and break thy head into the bargain!" 
 
 They began to believe Gurth's word, however, when 
 they found the embroidered purse of the Jewess within 
 the wallet of the swineherd. 
 
 Upon this the chief of the band cried out that for this 
 time they must let the servant of such a man go. 
 
 "This Disinherited is too like ourselves," he said; 
 "dog does not eat dog, when there are foxes and wolves 
 in abundance!" 
 
 "Like ourselves !" objected one of the robbers' gang ; 
 "I would like to hear that made good !" 
 
 "Why, fool?" answered the captain, fiercely; "is he 
 not poor and disinherited, just as we are ? Does he not 
 win his gear at the sword's point like us ? Has he not 
 beaten Front de Bceuf and Malvoisin as we would gladly 
 do if we could ? Is he not the mortal enemy of Bois- 
 Guilbert, whom we have such good reason to fear ? Shall 
 we treat such a man worse than this Hebrew Jew? " 
 
 Hearing this they were all silent, except for a single 
 discontented grumble from a short, thickset man whom 
 they called the Miller.
 
 42 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 "Then I suppose we shall lose our night," he mut- 
 tered ; "even this insolent peasant must go scatheless !" 
 
 "Not if you can scathe him, Miller!" cried the 
 chief; "there, take a couple of quarter-staffs, and fall to. 
 He seems a ready loon with his weapons. Let a cudgel 
 keep his head, and if he be beaten why, I think I 
 must e'en pay the sturdy knave's ransom myself!" 
 
 Therefore in the cleared space and in the full moon- 
 light, they fell to. And this is the tale of their fight: 
 The two champions, being alike armed with quarter- 
 staves, stepped forward into the centre of the open space, 
 in order to have the full benefit of the moonlight ; the 
 thieves in the meantime laughing, and crying to their 
 comrade, "Miller ! beware thy toll-dish." The Miller, 
 on the other hand, holding his quarter-staff by the 
 middle, and making it flourish round his head after the 
 fashion which the French call faire le moulinet, ex- 
 claimed boastfully, "Come on, churl, an thou darest; 
 thou shalt feel the strength of a miller's thumb !" 
 
 "If thou be'st a miller," answered Gurth, undaunt- 
 edly, making his weapon play around his head with 
 equal dexterity, "thou art doubly a thief, and I, as 
 a true man, bid thee defiance." 
 
 So saying, the two champions closed together, and 
 for a few minutes they displayed great equality in 
 strength, courage, and skill, intercepting and returning
 
 THE SPLINTERED LANCES OF ASHBY 43 
 
 the blows of their adversary with the most rapid dex- 
 terity, while, from the continued clatter of their weapons, 
 a person at a distance might have supposed that there 
 were at least six persons engaged on each side. 
 
 Long they fought equally, until the Miller began to 
 lose temper at finding himself so stoutly opposed, and 
 at hearing the laughter of his companions, who, as usual 
 in such cases, enjoyed his vexation. This was not a 
 state of mind favourable to the noble game of quarter- 
 staff, in which, as in ordinary cudgel-playing, the utmost 
 coolness is requisite ; and it gave Gurth, whose temper 
 was steady, though surly, the opportunity of acquiring a 
 decided advantage, in availing himself of which he dis- 
 played great mastery. 
 
 The Miller pressed furiously forward, dealing blows 
 with either end of his weapon alternately, and striving 
 to come to half-staff distance, while Gurth defended 
 himself against the attack, keeping his hands about a 
 yard asunder, and covering himself by shifting his 
 weapon with great celerity, so as to protect his head and 
 body. Thus did he maintain the defensive, making his 
 eye, foot, and hand keep true time, until, observing his 
 antagonist to lose wind, he darted the staff at his face 
 with his left hand; and as the Miller endeavoured to 
 parry the thrust, he slid his right hand down to his left, 
 and with the full swing of the weapon struck his oppo-
 
 44 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 nent on the left side of the head, who instantly measured 
 his length upon the greensward. 
 
 "Well and yeomanly done!" shouted the robbers; 
 "fair play and Old England forever. The Saxon hath 
 saved both his purse and his hide, and the Miller has 
 met his match." 
 
 II. BATTLE GENERAL 
 
 The next day was that of the mSlSe, or fight general. 
 The body of the knights was divided into two parts, one 
 led by the victor of the first day, the Disinherited 
 Knight, the other by Bois-Guilbert, who had been named 
 second champion. 
 
 The rules of the melee as proclaimed by the heralds 
 were few and simple. Knights whose lances were 
 broken might continue to fight with swords. Dis- 
 mounted men might only fight with one another. If 
 one combatant forced another against the barriers, he 
 had conquered him. 
 
 The Lady Rowena presided that day over the lists 
 as Queen of Beauty, and even Prince John did her 
 obeisance. The signal for the onset being given, fifty 
 steel-clad knights on either side hurled themselves to- 
 gether. The party of the Disinherited Knight held 
 fewer champions than that of Bois-Guilbert. For not 
 only did all the old challengers adhere to it, but they
 
 BATTLE GENERAL 45 
 
 were joined, much to the astonishment of Cedric, by 
 the huge Saxon Athelstane of Coningsburgh, who had 
 not forgiven the Disinherited One for choosing Rowena 
 (whom he looked upon as his own property) as Queen 
 of Beauty. Besides, Rowena herself appeared far 
 too much interested in the Knight of the Plucked-up 
 Oak Tree. Accordingly, he, Athelstane of Conings- 
 burgh, would punish his temerity by fighting against 
 him in the metee. 
 
 As yet the knights held their long lances upright, their 
 bright points glancing in the sun, and the streamers 
 with which they were decorated fluttering over the 
 plumage of the helmets. The trumpets sounded the 
 spears of the champions were at once lowered and placed 
 in the rests the spurs were dashed into the flanks of 
 the horses, and the two foremost ranks of either party 
 rushed upon each other in full gallop, and met in the 
 middle of the lists with a shock, the sound of which was 
 heard at a mile's distance. The rear rank of either side 
 advanced at a slower pace to sustain the defeated, 
 and follow up the success of the victors of their party. 
 
 The consequences of the encounter were not instantly 
 seen, for the dust raised by the trampling of so many 
 steeds darkened the air, and it was a full minute ere the 
 anxious spectators could see the fate of the encounter. 
 When the fight became visible, half the knights on each
 
 46 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 side were dismounted, some by the dexterity of their 
 adversary's lance, some by the superior weight and 
 strength of their opponents, which had borne down both 
 horse and man. Some lay stretched on earth as if 
 never more to rise ; some had already gained their feet, 
 and were closing hand to hand with those of their 
 antagonists who were in the same predicament; and 
 several on both sides, who had received wounds by 
 which they were disabled, were stopping their blood with 
 their scarfs, and endeavouring to extricate themselves 
 from the tumult. The mounted knights, whose lances 
 had been almost all broken by the fury of the encounter, 
 were now closely engaged with their swords, shouting 
 their war cries, and exchanging buffets, as if honour and 
 life depended on the issue of the combat. 
 
 Meantime the clang of the blows, and the shouts of 
 the combatants, mixed fearfully with the sound of the 
 trumpets, and drowned the groans of those who fell 
 and lay rolling defenceless beneath the feet of the horses. 
 The splendid armour of the combatants was now defaced 
 with dust and blood, and gave way at every stroke of the 
 sword and battle-axe. The gay plumage, shorn from 
 the crests, drifted upon the breeze like snowflakes. 
 All that was beautiful and graceful in the martial array 
 disappeared, and what was now visible was only calcu- 
 lated to awake terror or compassion.
 
 BATTLE GENERAL 47 
 
 The leaders of each band, mingling in the thick of the 
 fight, encouraged their companions both by voice and 
 example. Both displayed great feats of gallantry, nor 
 did either Bois-Guilbert or the Disinherited Knight 
 find in the ranks opposed to them a champion who could 
 be termed their unquestioned match. They repeatedly 
 endeavoured to single out each other, aware that the 
 fall of either leader might be considered as decisive of 
 victory. 
 
 But when the field became thin, the Templar and the 
 Disinherited Knight at length encountered hand to 
 hand, with all the fury that mortal animosity, joined to 
 rivalry of honour, could inspire. Such was the address 
 of each in parrying and striking, that the spectators 
 broke forth into a unanimous and involuntary shout 
 expressive of their delight and admiration. 
 
 But at this moment the party of the Disinherited 
 Knight had the worst; the gigantic arm of Front de 
 Bceuf on the one flank, and the ponderous strength of 
 Athelstane on the other, bearing down and dispersing 
 those exposed to them. Finding themselves freed from 
 their immediate antagonists, it seems to have occurred 
 to both these knights at the same instant, that they 
 would render the most decisive advantage to their party 
 by aiding the Templar in his contest with his rival. 
 Turning their horses, therefore, at the same moment,
 
 48 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 the Norman spurred against the Disinherited Knight on 
 the one side, while the Saxon charged home on the other. 
 It was utterly impossible that the object of this unequal 
 and unexpected assault could have sustained it, had he 
 not been warned by a general cry from the spectators, 
 who could not but take interest in one exposed to such 
 disadvantages. 
 
 " Beware ! Beware, Sir Disinherited !" was shouted so 
 universally, that the knight became aware of his 
 danger, and, striking a full blow at the Templar, he 
 reined back his steed in the same moment, so as to 
 escape the charge of Athelstane and Front de Bceuf. 
 These knights, therefore, their aim being thus eluded, 
 rushed from opposite sides betwixt the object of their 
 attack and the Templar, almost running their horses 
 against each other ere they could stop their career. 
 Recovering their steeds, however, and wheeling them 
 round, the whole three pursued their united purpose of 
 bearing to the earth the Disinherited Knight. 
 
 Nothing now could have saved him except the re- 
 markable strength and activity of the noble horse which 
 he had won on the preceding day. 
 
 This stood him in the more stead, as the horse of 
 Bois-Guilbert was wounded, and those of Front de 
 Boeuf and Athelstane were both tired with the weight 
 of their gigantic masters, clad in complete armour, and
 
 BATTLE GENERAL 49 
 
 with the preceding exertions of the day. The masterly 
 horsemanship of the Disinherited Knight, and the activ- 
 ity of the noble animal which he mounted, enabled him 
 for a few moments longer to keep at sword's point his 
 three antagonists, turning and wheeling with the agility 
 of a hawk upon the wing, keeping his enemies as far 
 separate as he could, and rushing now against one, 
 now against the other, dealing sweeping blows with his 
 sword, without waiting to receive those which were 
 aimed at him in return. 
 
 But although the lists rang with the applauses of his 
 dexterity, it was evident that he must at last be over- 
 powered ; and the nobles around Prince John implored 
 him with one voice to throw down his warder, and to 
 save so brave a knight from the disgrace of being over- 
 come by odds. 
 
 "Not I, by the light of Heaven!" answered Prince 
 John ; "this same springal, who conceals his name, and 
 despises our proffered hospitality, has already gained one 
 prize, and may now afford to let others have their turn." 
 As he spoke thus, an unexpected incident changed the 
 fortune of the day. 
 
 There was among the ranks of the Disinherited 
 Knight a champion in black armour, mounted on a black 
 horse, large in size, tall, and to all appearance powerful 
 and strong, like the rider by whom he was mounted.
 
 50 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 This knight, who bore on his shield no device of any 
 kind, had hitherto evinced very little interest in the 
 event of the fight, beating off with seeming ease those 
 combatants who attacked him, but neither pursuing his 
 advantage, nor himself assailing any one. In short, he 
 had hitherto acted the part rather of a spectator than 
 of a party in the tournament, a circumstance which pro- 
 cured him among the spectators the name of Le Noir 
 Faineant, or the Black Sluggard. 
 
 At once this knight seemed to throw aside his apathy 
 when he discovered the leader of his party so hard be- 
 stead ; for, setting spurs to his horse, which was quite 
 fresh, he came to his assistance like a thunderbolt, ex- 
 claiming in a voice like a trumpet-call, " Desdichado, to 
 the rescue!" It was high time; for, while the Disin- 
 herited Knight was pressing upon the Templar, Front 
 de Boeuf had got nigh to him with his uplifted sword. 
 But ere the blow could descend, the Sable Knight dealt 
 him a stroke on the head, which, glancing from the 
 polished helmet, lighted with violence scarcely abated 
 on the steed, and Front de Bceuf rolled on the ground, 
 both horse and man equally stunned by the fury of the 
 blow. Le Noir Faineant then turned his horse upon 
 Athelstane of Coningsburgh ; and, his own sword having 
 been broken in his encounter with Front de Boeuf, he 
 wrenched from the hand of the bulky Saxon the battle-
 
 BATTLE GENERAL 51 
 
 axe which he wielded, and, like one familiar with the 
 use of the weapon, bestowed such a blow upon his crest, 
 that Athelstane also lay senseless on the field. Having 
 achieved this noble feat, for which he was the more 
 highly applauded that it was totally unexpected from 
 him, the knight seemed to resume the sluggishness of 
 his character, returning calmly to the northern extremity 
 of the lists, leaving his leader to cope as he best could 
 with Brian de Bois-Guilbert. This was no longer 
 matter of so much difficulty as formerly. The Tem- 
 plar's horse had bled much, and gave way under the 
 shock of the Disinherited Knight's charge. Brian de 
 Bois-Guilbert rolled on the field, encumbered with the 
 stirrup, from which he was unable to draw his foot. 
 His antagonist sprang from horseback, waved his fatal 
 sword over the head of his adversary, and commanded 
 him to yield himself; when Prince John, more moved 
 by the Templar's dangerous situation than he had been 
 by that of his rival, saved him the mortification of 
 confessing himself vanquished, by casting down his 
 warder and putting an end to the conflict. 
 
 Thus ended the memorable field of Ashby-de-la- 
 Zouche, one of the most gallantly contested tourna- 
 ments of that age. For although only four knights, 
 including one who was smothered by the heat of his 
 armour, had died upon the field, yet upwards of thirty
 
 52 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 were desperately wounded, four or five of whom never 
 recovered. Several more were disabled for life; and 
 those who escaped best carried the marks of the conflict 
 to the grave with them. Hence it is always mentioned 
 in the old records as the Gentle and Joyous Passage of 
 Arms at Ashby. 
 
 But when the double victor, at last called upon to 
 unhelm himself before the Queen of Love and Beauty, 
 revealed at last that he was no other than the crusading 
 knight of Ivanhoe, the disinherited son of Cedric, not 
 only Rowena but all the Saxons at the tournament were 
 thrilled with pride. But of this the brave Ivanhoe was 
 unconscious. He had hardly bent to receive the wreath 
 of chivalry, when his head fell forward, and he slipped, 
 fainting and motionless, at the feet of the Lady Rowena, 
 a lance-head sunk deep in his side. 
 
 ****** * 
 
 END OF SECOND TALE FROM " IVANHOE" 
 
 LINK NUMBER TWO 
 
 I INCREASE MY AUDIENCE 
 
 "I say," said Hugh John, "we must sneak I mean, 
 ask father for the loan of the Ivanhoe book, and read 
 it to the Smoutchy boys down in Edam. Then we will 
 have a proper tournament all of our own !"
 
 I INCREASE MY AUDIENCE 53 
 
 "Bad, horrid boys!" said Sweetheart; "I shouldn't 
 ever speak to them again. Why, they hung you up by 
 the thumbs and tortured you and put you in dungeons !" 
 
 This referred to ancient history, and as for the tale 
 thereof is it not written in the book of the chronicles 
 of "Sir Toady Lion," that most surprising knight? 
 But the boys had, for the time being, an entente cordiale 
 with the boys of Edam, and especially with the chief of 
 all, a certain Nipper Donnan, now frequently to be 
 seen at the back door of Windy Standard, the residence 
 of the boys and their sisters, with a butcher's basket 
 over his arm, his hands in his pockets, and whistling 
 shrilly the latest music-hall ditty, to show how much 
 he cared for the cook. 
 
 The present "peace" was one of mutual respect 
 and accommodation. It rested on sundry scufflings 
 and one great pitched battle, on many wounds and 
 bruises given and taken (and nothing said about them), 
 on several poaching expeditions, and an alliance, offen- 
 sive and defensive, against all gamekeepers and the 
 entire body of the rural police. Homing pigeons also 
 had to do with it, and ratting "tarriers" were noways 
 foreign to the matter. 
 
 So the next day Hugh John and Sir Toady waited 
 for Nipper Donnan, chief "Smoutchy" of Edam, pres- 
 ently following the profession of his father, Butcher
 
 54 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 Donnan, in the subordinate capacity of errand-boy. 
 The immediate business of this meeting was to exchange 
 against cash down in boys' currency, various pieces of 
 meat and bone (called "snackets" and of no commercial 
 value) for the "tarriers" aforesaid. But as they 
 chaffered in terms of marbles and fish-hooks, the boys 
 conversed also on subjects of common interest. 
 
 "Say," began Nipper Donnan, "one o' them 'alleys' 
 wot you gave me las' week was no better than a ' clay' 
 it split in two the first whack!" 
 
 "Then you must have whacked it with a sledge- 
 hammer!" retorted Sir Toady Lion, promptly, the 
 short hair behind his ears bristling up like a hackle. 
 
 "No, I didn't!" said Nipper Donnan; "I only 
 plunked it, and it broke the first go!" 
 
 (Which is to say that Nipper threw it with force at a 
 row of marbles arranged in front of a wall, from the 
 distance of several yards. In this game the striker gets 
 all he can displace.) 
 
 "Well," said Hugh John, who is not fitted for a com- 
 mercial life, " if you say that on honour, here's another ! " 
 
 First Nipper held out his hand, then more slowly he 
 withdrew it and blushed. 
 
 "A 'piggie' will do," he said; "I did hit the 'alley' 
 against the wall the time it burst in two !" 
 
 This shows that honour begets honour. If any one
 
 I INCREASE MY AUDIENCE 55 
 
 had tried to "do" Nipper Donnan, or if he had even 
 suspected as much, he would (to use his own strong 
 phrase) have "lied like a horse-dealer." But these 
 Windy Standard boys were certainly disarming. 
 
 They actually believed you, if you said it was so. 
 
 Consequently Nipper Donnan took their word with 
 never a murmur, sometimes even to his own disadvan- 
 tage. And he hardly ever "did" them or "had them" 
 without explaining afterwards, and never without warn- 
 ing them against dealing with Jo Cormick and other 
 "real bad boys," who had none of his (Nipper Don- 
 nan's) honourable scruples. 
 
 Nipper went on to relate the details of a ratting expe- 
 dition down at the Black Sheds, and how his dog " Spot," 
 a short-bodied, hang-lipped, stub-tailed brute had, 
 literally, carried all before him. Spot was waiting at 
 the moment at the end of the avenue for his master. 
 Indeed he was passing the time by fighting with the 
 parson's collie, so that the whole street and neighbour- 
 hood were filled with the alarms and excursions of 
 canine war. 
 
 Hugh John interrupted Spot's master. He had a 
 question to ask. 
 
 "Ever hear of a fellow called Ivanhoe?" he de- 
 manded, as he stowed the "snackets" away in a piece of 
 stained brown paper and committed the package to the
 
 56 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 bottom of his jacket pocket well out of the reach of pry- 
 ing eyes. 
 
 "Ivan How?" said Nipper, in the far-away, tell-you- 
 to-morrow tone of one who searches deep in an evasive 
 memory. "No-o-o-o! But there's John How, our 
 shopman. He threw a two-pound weight at your big 
 dog Boom-pluff, and got him in the ribs. Ay, and garred 
 him drop the bone he had stolen; and father says 
 that he will have it put down in next week's account !" 
 
 At this the boys laughed. In which they had reason. 
 For they knew that such an item could not possibly pass 
 the shrewd eyes of Janet Sheepshanks. 
 
 "Your father may put a whole live ox in the 'book,'" 
 retorted Sir Toady, "and swear that our Boomy swal- 
 lowed him tail first. But catch Janet paying it!" 
 
 "Oh, well," said Nipper, "I dare say father will 
 forget all about it." This was not at all unlikely, see- 
 ing that the youth had made up the whole incident from 
 beginning to end. 
 
 "Well, anyway," he said, taking his stand on that 
 part of the story which would bear examination, "our 
 salesman is John How rum name ! Ivan How is 
 rummer, though!" 
 
 "Humph!" said Hugh John, scornfully, "you 
 wouldn't say that if you knew about him. He's a 
 'oner' !"
 
 I INCREASE MY AUDIENCE 57 
 
 "A regular buster!" added Sir Toady Lion. 
 
 "Could fight, eh?" Nipper's eyes twinkled, and he 
 turned his head to the side with the questioning, com- 
 bative, bull-pup look with which he always measured 
 a possible opponent. 
 
 "Fight?" sang out Sir Toady; "why, he fought five 
 one day, all done up in armour like a battleship yes, 
 and whacked them till they cried!" 
 
 "Armour " said Nipper, looking puzzled; "that's 
 not according to Queensberry rules. Why did the com- 
 mittee allow it? What, didn't Ivan How's backers 
 see that t'other fellows peeled decent? If my father 
 had been there, I bet the silly jossers would have come 
 out of them iron shirts quicker'n wink! Ay, man, 
 he'd have had them out by the hair o' the head !" 
 
 Hugh John explained at length. Nipper listened 
 with his brows drawn down so that you could only see 
 the little glistening sparks of two sloe-black pupils, 
 while all the time his under jaw seemed to get bigger, 
 and push out as if some one were moulding it under- 
 neath with plasticene and plenty of it, too. 
 
 "So a man Scott wrote all that, did he?" Nipper 
 Donnan inquired. 
 
 "Yes," said Hugh John, anxious to run sea and land 
 to make one proselyte, "and father says that he's the 
 greatest historv writer that ever was!"
 
 58 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 "My father backs the man that writes up the 'scraps' 
 in the Sporting Pink!" said Nipper Donnan; "and I 
 bet he knows as well as yours. You should see my 
 father turn to page three to get 'the latest' ! Wonder- 
 ful set on literature is father ! And never was but three 
 days at school, including the day they had to take the 
 master to the Infirmary!" 
 
 "If you like, I'll nab the book and read bits to you, 
 and then we can do the things that's in it down in our 
 meadow, or somewhere!" 
 
 Hugh John was very earnest now. 
 
 "What kind of things?" said Nipper, shifting his 
 basket from one arm to the other, preparatory to 
 emerging from the shrubbery at the end of the Hague 
 conference. He heard the clock strike ten and knew 
 that his parent would be looking for him. He was dead 
 set on keeping the Fifth Commandment, which in his 
 case was indeed a commandment with promise. 
 
 " Oh, a tournament ! " said Toady Lion, unable longer 
 to keep his oar out of the discussion. 
 
 " Quoiting ? " demanded Nipper, with a sniff. "That's 
 no class. 'Sides, Ned Kerr from Rerwick would scoop 
 your old Ivan every time !" 
 
 "Fighting not quoiting," said Hugh John, giving 
 Toady Lion "such a look" ; " just proper ! You can bring 
 some fellows if you like and me and Toady will slip
 
 I INCREASE MY AUDIENCE 59 
 
 off with the book up our waistcoats. It's got A i 
 pictures. An' I'll read it." 
 
 "Father u'd like that too," said Nipper, when Hugh 
 John had finished; "there's never enough 'scraps' in 
 the 'Pinky' to keep him going, and he takes no stock in 
 glove contests unless, that is, he sees the gloves !" 
 
 And so it was arranged. 
 
 For the purpose of informing those interested as to 
 the most suitable portions to read, various leading ques- 
 tions were put to me that night. But I did not realize 
 what a stir my relation of the adventures of Sir Walter's 
 Disinherited Knight was making in the community till 
 I came across Mr. Butcher Donnan "Senior," with 
 whom I have numerous business relations not only 
 those of paying my monthly bill, but also those of 
 arranging the letting of a grazing park upon which I 
 have some feudal rights not very clearly defined. 
 
 Now Butcher Donnan is a worthy man who went 
 early to America, abode there prosperously for a time, 
 and returned suddenly (some say), owing to an affair 
 in which a "shelalah" and a man's head were too in- 
 timately mixed up together. He is our chief sporting 
 authority in Edam, and the church Catholic and the 
 Queensberry rules occupy the two sides of his braio. 
 where their authority is about equal.
 
 60 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 "Beg pardon, sir," he said, after strict business 
 was finished, "will that be aaall nonsense that your 
 boys were gettin' off to mine the other night? I'm 
 expectin' not, for it was out of a printed book, Nipper 
 said!" 
 
 Evidently Faith is not dead in Israel. 
 
 "Books are all right," continued Butcher Donnan ; 
 "though I don't read them much myself only the 
 Sporting Pink there's a paper for you, now !" 
 
 I expressed my agreement. I had the testimony of 
 my eyes upon many bookstalls that it was a paper. 
 But Butcher Donnan had something more to ask. 
 
 "The book that your kids children, I mean 
 brought down under their waistcoats is it expen- 
 sive?" 
 
 Being the first edition, in three volumes in uncut state, 
 it was. But I did not say so. Donnan, in his shirt- 
 sleeves and a steel by his side, did not look like a man 
 you could talk first editions to. So instead I let him 
 develop his wishes. 
 
 "Why do you ask?" I said, smiling, to him. 
 
 "Why, sir, I asked because I was took by the fight- 
 ing though getting up on horseback only for to try 
 to knock each other off again ain't no sort o' way o' 
 fighting to my mind, that is. And all them iron 
 plates no, it's not my way. But I will not deny it
 
 I INCREASE MY AUDIENCE 61 
 
 makes good readin' as good as I want. Better no 
 man can ask. But they stopped off, your boys, just at 
 a place " 
 
 "They had to hurry back to supper, I suspect !" said 
 I. "I noticed they came in rather late and that their 
 hair was combed with their fingers !" 
 
 "Just so," said Butcher Donnan ; "but now would you 
 mind tellin' me who was that there fellow wot shot so 
 well with a bow an' arrow him that Prince John 
 threatened he would ham-string and drum out o' the 
 regimental camp if he didn't beat all the other chaps at 
 their own target too? Eh, he was a tough lot, that 
 Prince John. If me or Billy Waite could have got a 
 matter of three rounds at him with his steel shirt off 
 u-r-r-r-r !" 
 
 And Butcher Donnan's growl indicated very clearly 
 that if the three rounds spoken of had indeed taken 
 place, in all probability Magna Charta would never 
 have been signed. 
 
 Butcher Donnan's face was a study in florid colours. 
 I managed, however, to make out what he was driving 
 at. Or at least thought I did. 
 
 "I will lend you the book with pleasure," I said ; "or 
 rather, if you will accept a copy, I will send you another 
 one. They sell them at the station for sixpence, so you 
 need not think you are in my debt!"
 
 62 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 "Oh, no, thank ye," said Butcher Donnan, "I ain't 
 no scollard. But to tell the truth I was thinkin' that 
 it's the slack time of the day with me when you are 
 tellin' them yarns to the kids to the young ladies and 
 gentlemen, I mean. And if I might make so bold as 
 to step over " 
 
 "Certainly certainly !" I cried eagerly, but not too 
 eagerly. 
 
 "An' that young ruffian o' mine, Nipper, I dare say 
 he can get off for an hour. He's just jumpin' his toes 
 out of his boots to come " 
 
 "Oh, bring him bring him!" I agreed heartily, 
 this time. 
 
 "Thank ye, sir," said Butcher Donnan, gratefully, 
 "and if he misbehaves I'll u-r-r-r-r-r ! " 
 
 And with a jerky attempt at a salute he took himself 
 off down the avenue. 
 
 It was in this way that the increase of my audience 
 began. 
 
 THE THIRD TALE FROM "IVANHOE" 
 
 IT was a sharp, clean-aired night. The north wind, 
 having driven a thunder-storm boisterously away, now 
 turned to bite us. It was impossible to continue the 
 tales out-of-doors, so I made up a fire of logs in the big
 
 THE THIRD TALE FROM " IVANHOE " 63 
 
 library, which stands all by itself on the edge of the 
 wood, and there awaited my audience. 
 
 The usual home four arrived tumultuously by way of 
 the plantation, through which it was forbidden to pass 
 after rain. I could hear them scuffing outside and 
 inquiring of each other "if it showed behind" IT 
 being the wetting of the raindrops from the leaves upon 
 their garments. 
 
 "Go on!" said the laggards to Maid Margaret, as 
 they entered tumultuously and flung themselves down 
 with the familiarity of so many favourite dogs on carpet 
 and hearthrug, according to their liking. 
 
 "Hold on!" I replied; " there are more coming!" 
 
 For I had heard a cough without, a moment before. 
 And now, without sound or fall of footsteps, Butcher 
 Donnan, sleek and prosperous, appeared holding his 
 son Nipper by the collar, as if he feared that hope of 
 his house might run away at the last moment. Which 
 indeed was a thing by no means unlikely. For Nipper 
 had all the furtive, surly fear of a wild animal brought 
 into unfamiliar surroundings. The walls of books in 
 rows and interminable rows the thought of being 
 left alone with all these perhaps to read rode the 
 boy's mind like a nightmare. 
 
 So his father, perhaps half conscious of a similar 
 feeling, kept a prudent hand on his collar. It was
 
 64 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 evident that Butcher Donnan regarded what I was about 
 to tell him as an important lesson in history, by which 
 Nipper would be well to profit. It was also clear that 
 I must be careful. 
 Luckily it was of Archer Locksley that I had to speak. 
 
 THE TALE OF THE PEELED WILLOW WAND 
 
 Prince John had taken a pick at Locksley, the yeo- 
 man who had applauded when Cedric the Saxon made 
 his brave stroke at De Bracy's lance-head. He was 
 one of the people who always manage to forget their 
 promises, whether to pay a bill or to do a good act, but 
 who will get up in the small hours as often as there is a 
 neighbour to be harmed or a fancied slight to be avenged. 
 
 "See here, sirrah," he said, when he had found the 
 yeoman at the same spot as on the previous day, "you 
 are to shoot against the best of the royal archers. If 
 you beat them, I will put twenty gold nobles into your 
 purse along with the prize. But if, after all your boast- 
 ing, you fail, I will have you stript of your Lincoln green, 
 your bow and arrows broken, and you yourself scourged 
 from the lists as a wordy braggart !" 
 
 ("That was noways fair prince or no prince!" 
 exclaimed Butcher Donnan, clapping his great hand 
 on his thigh.) 
 
 "So Locksley himself said," I continued, while
 
 THE TALE CONTINUES 65 
 
 Nipper, fresh from the discipline of the Board School, 
 tried to make his father understand that it was not the 
 correct thing to interrupt the lecturer. The Butcher 
 was quieter after this, but ever and anon he emitted 
 muffled and explosive sounds, snorts, and defiances, 
 applause and encouragement, evidently designed for 
 the characters of the tale, who were all quite real to him. 
 ******* 
 
 THE TALE CONTINUES 
 
 So Locksley took the Prince at his word. He would, 
 he said, shoot at any mark the winning archer liked to 
 set up, provided that the aforesaid champion, whom he 
 was to defeat under penalty of disgrace, would in his 
 turn shoot at the "woodsman's" mark which he, 
 Locksley, would choose. 
 
 Even the Prince could not deny the fairness of this. 
 
 A large target was brought into the lists, with a white 
 centre. Each archer was to shoot three arrows, and 
 the best was to shoot against Locksley. Only eight 
 abode to try their luck after seeing their opponents, and 
 remembering the certainty of the Prince's certain anger 
 if they did not acquit themselves well. 
 
 ******* 
 
 At this point I glanced cautiously at the big-print 
 Ivanhoe open on the table before me. Though all
 
 66 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 very well for children, I was resolved that Butcher 
 Donnan should take his "Locksley" as he took his 
 liquor, without water. I watched his face as I began 
 to read. It never altered, intent and concentrated in 
 its severity. I am not even sure that he observed the 
 change as, like a wise man, I consulted my documents. 
 
 One by one the archers, stepping forward, delivered 
 their shafts yeomanlike and bravely. Of twenty-four 
 arrows, shot in succession, ten were fixed in the target, 
 and the others ranged so near it, that, considering the 
 distance of the mark, it was accounted good archery. 
 Of the ten shafts which hit the target, two within the 
 inner ring were shot by Hubert, a forester in the service 
 of Malvoisin, who was accordingly pronounced vic- 
 torious. 
 
 "Since it be no better," said Locksley, "I am content 
 to try my fortune ; on condition that when I have shot 
 two shafts at yonder mark of Hubert's, he shall be bound 
 to shoot one at that which I shall propose." 
 
 "That is but fair," answered Prince John, "and it 
 shall not be refused thee. If thou dost beat this brag- 
 gart, Hubert, I will fill the bugle with silver pennies for 
 thee." 
 
 "A man can do but his best," answered Hubert,
 
 THE TALE CONTINUES 67 
 
 "but my grandsire drew a good long-bow at Hastings, 
 and I trust not to dishonour his memory." 
 
 The former target was now removed, and a fresh one 
 of the same size placed in its room. Hubert, who, as 
 victor in the first trial of skill, had the right to shoot 
 first, took his aim with great deliberation, long measur- 
 ing the distance with his eye, while he held in his hand 
 his bended bow, with the arrow placed on the string. 
 At length he made a step forward, and, raising the bow 
 at the full stretch of his left arm, till the centre or grasp- 
 ing-place was nigh level with his face, he drew the 
 bow-string to his ear. The arrow whistled through the 
 air, and lighted within the inner ring of the target, but 
 not exactly in the centre. 
 
 "You have not allowed for the wind, Hubert," said 
 his antagonist, bending his bow, "or that had been a 
 better shot." 
 
 So saying, and without showing the least anxiety to 
 pause upon his aim, Locksley stepped to the appointed 
 station, and shot his arrow as carelessly in appearance 
 as if he had not even looked at the mark. He was 
 speaking almost at the instant that the shaft left the 
 bow-string, yet it alighted in the target two inches 
 nearer to the white spot which marked the centre than 
 that of Hubert. 
 
 "By the light of heaven!" said Prince John to Hu-
 
 68 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 bert, "an thou suffer that runagate knave to overcome 
 thee, thou art worthy of the gallows!" 
 
 Hubert had but one set speech for all occasions. "An 
 your Highness were to hang me," he said, "a man can 
 but do his best. Nevertheless, my grandsire drew a 
 good bow " 
 
 "The foul fiend on thy grandsire and all his genera- 
 tion !" interrupted John; "shoot, knave, and shoot thy 
 best, or it shall be worse for thee !" 
 
 Thus exhorted, Hubert resumed his place, and, not 
 neglecting the caution which he had received from his 
 adversary, he made the necessary allowance for a very 
 light air of wind, which had just arisen, and shot so 
 successfully that his arrow alighted in the very centre 
 of the target. 
 
 "A Hubert ! a Hubert !" shouted the populace, more 
 interested in a known person than in a stranger. "In 
 the clout ! in the clout ! a Hubert forever !" 
 
 "Thou canst not mend that shot, Locksley," said the 
 Prince, with an insulting smile. 
 
 "I will notch his shaft for him, however," replied 
 Locksley. 
 
 And his arrow, let fly with a little more precaution 
 than before, lighted right upon that of his competi- 
 tor, which it split to shivers. The people who stood 
 around were so astonished at his wonderful dexterity
 
 THE TALE CONTINUES 69 
 
 that they could not even give vent to their surprise in 
 their usual clamour. "This must be the devil, and 
 no man of flesh and blood," whispered the yeomen to 
 each other; "such archery was never seen since a bow 
 was first bent in Britain." 
 
 "And now," said Locksley, "I will crave your Grace's 
 permission to plant such a mark as is used in the North 
 Country; and welcome every brave yeoman who shall 
 try a shot at it to win a smile from the bonnie lass he 
 loves best." 
 
 He then turned to leave the lists. "Let your guards 
 attend me," he said, "if you please I go but to cut a 
 rod from the next willow bush." 
 
 Prince John made a signal that some attendants 
 should follow him in case of his escape ; but the cry of 
 "Shame! shame!" which burst from the multitude, 
 induced him to alter his ungenerous purpose. 
 
 Locksley returned almost instantly with a willow 
 wand about six feet in length, perfectly straight, and 
 rather thicker than a man's thumb. He began to peel 
 this with great composure, observing at the same time, 
 that to ask a good woodsman to shoot at a target so 
 broad as had hitherto been used, was to put shame upon 
 his skill. "For his own part," he said, "and in the land 
 where he was bred, men would as soon take for their 
 mark King Arthur's round table, which held sixty
 
 70 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 knights around it. A child of seven years old," he said, 
 "might hit yonder target with a headless shaft; but," 
 added he, walking deliberately to the other end of the 
 lists, and sticking the willow wand upright in the ground, 
 "he that hits that rod at five-score yards, I call him an 
 archer fit to bear both bow and quiver before a king, 
 an it were the stout King Richard himself." 
 
 "My grandsire," said Hubert, "drew a good bow at 
 the battle of Hastings, and never shot at such a mark in 
 his life and neither will I. If this yeoman can cleave 
 that rod, I give him the bucklers or rather I yield to 
 the devil that is in his jerkin, and not to any human skill ; 
 a man can but do his best, and I will not shoot where 
 I am sure to miss. I might as well shoot at the edge of 
 our parson's whittle, or at a wheat-straw, or at a sun- 
 beam, as at a twinkling white streak which I can hardly 
 see." 
 
 " Cowardly dog ! " said Prince John. " Sirrah Locks- 
 ley, do thou shoot; but if thou hittest such a mark, I 
 will say thou art the first man ever did so. Howe'er it 
 be, thou shalt not crow over us with a mere show of 
 superior skill." 
 
 "I will do my best, as Hubert says," answered Locks- 
 ley; "no man can do more." 
 
 So saying, he again bent his bow, but on the present 
 occasion looked with attention to his weapon, and
 
 LOCKSLEY'S CHALLENGE AT THE ARCHERY COMPETITION,
 
 THE TALE CONTINUES 71 
 
 changed the string, which he thought was no longer 
 truly round, having been a little frayed by the two 
 former shots. He then took his aim with some delibera- 
 tion, and the multitude awaited the event in breath- 
 less silence. The archer vindicated their opinion of his 
 skill; his arrow split the willow rod against which it 
 was aimed. A jubilee of acclamations followed; and 
 even Prince John, in admiration of Locksley's skill, 
 lost for an instant his dislike to his person. " These 
 twenty nobles," he said, "which, with the bugle, thou 
 hast fairly won, are thine own; we will make them 
 fifty, if thou wilt take livery and service with us as a 
 yeoman of our bodyguard, and be near to our person. 
 For never did so strong a hand bend a bow, or so true 
 an eye direct a shaft." 
 
 "Pardon me, noble Prince," said Locksley; "but I 
 have vowed that if ever I take service, it should be with 
 your royal brother, King Richard. These twenty nobles 
 I leave to Hubert, who has this day drawn as brave a 
 bow as his grandsire did at Hastings. Had his modesty 
 not refused the trial, he would have hit the wand as well 
 as I." 
 
 Hubert shook his head as he received with reluctance 
 the bounty of the stranger; and Locksley, anxious to 
 escape further observation, mixed with the crowd, and 
 
 was seen no more. 
 
 ****** *
 
 72 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 It was with an edifying modesty that I took the praise 
 due to the successful taleteller, praise which was so little 
 my own that even the children were not deceived. I 
 could see them nudge each other and whisper : "Father's 
 reading!" "Yes from the book every word!" 
 "I mean to sneak that book after!" 
 
 Hearing this, I was rejoiced. It was good that they 
 should think that Scott was better to read than I to listen 
 to. Well, indeed, if that sank in ! 
 
 Butcher Donnan, too, after the first burst of delight, 
 praised not the manner but the matter of my relation. 
 
 "If that Lock-shy 'ad been a volunteer in the Edam 
 corps or a small boresman, I'd ha' backed him heavy at 
 Bisley ! We'd ha' gone up there, him an' me ay, 
 and made more money in a week than at the butcher- 
 ing in a score of years !" 
 
 "If you could have got anybody to take your bets," 
 I reminded him, gently. 
 
 "Man," he burst out, the fact that he used the word 
 proving his excitement, "man, d'ye no see he would 
 be the dark horse. Ay, not a man o' them would guess 
 his form. And I would nurse this here Locksley, and 
 manage him like a trainer that knows his business. He 
 would lose all the events there was nothing in for to 
 keep down his aggregates, ye see. But whenever a big 
 pot came along, in he would go and scoop it! Yes,
 
 THE TALE CONTINUES 73 
 
 man he would win the big events but no by a great 
 deal no sky-scrapin' scores. No, no, that only fright- 
 ens the rest. Look at Hubert there. He would not so 
 much as put cheek to butt against him at the long range. 
 See the wisdom o' my plan ! I wager any money that 
 this here Locksley would never be let shoot at the same 
 place again Ashby, was it, thank'ee without get- 
 ting from the committee a bonny-like handicap to 
 carry going on in that reckless, braggin' way, lettin' 
 everybody ken the 'triple blue' he was, and never a 
 penny the more in his pouch when all was done." 
 
 We accepted all this wisdom from the sporting 
 butcher without a murmur. And I am sure that when 
 he went away that night, taking the drying-green railings 
 in his stride, he was carrying in his head the hope that 
 one day he and Locksley might meet, when it would not 
 be Butcher Donnan's fault if they did not, in his own 
 words, "rig up a deal that would scoop the very 
 interior parts out of Bisley." 
 
 THE FOURTH TALE FROM "IVANHOE" 
 
 AFTER this it was difficult for me to live up to the bold 
 cut-and-thrust of Locksley's archery. But observing 
 the open mouth and fixed gaze of Butcher Donnan, and
 
 74 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 urged by the children, I was fain to proceed. All four 
 felt that the honour of the house was at stake. They 
 had boasted with vain words about these tales. It 
 was my part to make those boasts good. Well, I could 
 only try. Like Hubert a man can but do his best. 
 So I proceeded at once with the tale of 
 
 THE CASTLE OF FRONT DE BCEUF 
 
 "The Sluggard Knight" (as he had been called in the 
 lists of Ashby, the same whose prompt assistance in the 
 melee had won the victory for the side of the wounded 
 Ivanhoe) promptly disappeared from the lists at the 
 breaking up of the tournament. In fact he rode away 
 northward through the forest of Sherwood, and by sun- 
 set he had completely lost his way. 
 
 In the waste, a feeble light guided him to a hermit's 
 cell, where he found shelter; and presently, when his 
 host had thawed a little, entertainment of the best. 
 This hermit was a certain famous Friar Tuck, called at 
 the time the Jolly Clerk of Copmanhurst, and his cell 
 was in a dell not far from where the ruins of Fountains 
 Abbey now stand. He wore the robe of an order, and 
 was indeed a proper priest, shaven and shorn. But all 
 the same he was ready to drink the wassail down, sing a 
 gallant song, or in the event of a quarrel, to hold his own 
 with the broadsword and targe, like a good outlaw of the
 
 THE CASTLE OF FRONT DE BOEUF 75 
 
 greenwood. The Sluggard Knight asked so many 
 questions, that the hermit called him impertinent, for 
 wanting to know if the good venison they were eating 
 came from one of the royal bucks, found transfixed 
 with a clothyard shaft in the course of some moonlight 
 walk. 
 
 But, with a song and a jest, the hermit's anger passed 
 over as quickly as it had come ; and the pair were in 
 the midst of a shouted chorus when a knock fell upon 
 the outer door, which frighted the hermit so much that 
 he instantly began to intone a churchly chaunt, while, 
 as far as might be, he shovelled into their hiding places 
 the remnants of the feast. 
 
 The newcomer, however, was no other than the bold 
 Archer Locksley, who came with news that a band of 
 pretended outlaws had seized Cedric the Saxon and his 
 ward, the Lady Rowena, together with the Jew Isaac of 
 York and his daughter Rebecca. These were now held 
 for ransom in Front de Bceuf's castle of Torquilstone, 
 and plunder and torture were the least they had to fear. 
 
 The Sluggard Knight seemed astonished at the news, 
 and particularly demanded if Front de Bceuf had 
 stooped to be a robber and an oppressor. 
 
 "An oppressor he always was," cried Locksley the 
 Archer, instantly. 
 
 "And as for thief," added the priest, "I will warrant
 
 76 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 that he is none so honest a man as many a robber of 
 my acquaintance." 
 
 Indeed the news was but too true. Cedric's party 
 had been surrounded and captured by De Bracy and 
 some of his Free Companions assisted by the Templar 
 Bois-Guilbert. All had been disguised as Saxon 
 woodland outlaws with bow, quiver, and coat of Lin- 
 coln green. Cedric had fought bravely, and Athelstane 
 the Unready would also have fought if there had been 
 time. But in the end the whole party, with the single 
 exception of Wamba the Jester, was safely shut up in 
 the dungeons of the Torquilstone, the castle of the cruel 
 Front de Bceuf. 
 
 Here Cedric and Athelstane remained in prison, 
 though treated with some civility. But Front de Bceuf 
 began his preparations for torturing the Jew into giving 
 him a great ransom. On the other hand, De Bracy 
 began to pay his court to the Lady Rowena, whose great 
 lands and possessions he had long desired, while the 
 Templar, less honourably, resolved at all hazards to 
 carry off the beautiful Rebecca, the daughter of the 
 Jew Isaac of York. 
 
 But outside the castle walls the storm was brewing. 
 Wamba the Jester had found Gurth the swineherd,
 
 THE CASTLE OF FRONT DE BCEUF 77 
 
 whom he informed that his wounded master, Wilfred of 
 Ivanhoe, had also been seized by De Bracy, and shut up 
 in the castle of Front de Bceuf so that, if he wished 
 to save any of the race of Cedric, he must haste to gather 
 all available men to assault the castle. It seemed, and 
 might well seem, a desperate undertaking. 
 
 But in the nick of time the outlaw Locksley offered 
 his assistance. And it was while summoning his men 
 that on knocking at the door where dwelt stout Friar 
 Tuck in the greenwood of Copmanhurst he stumbled on 
 the knight called the Black Sluggard. 
 
 As the Black Knight was a Crusader, newly returned 
 from the wars, and therefore learned in the manner of 
 taking castles, as well as victor over Front de Bceuf 
 in the lists of Ashby, Locksley and his band chose him 
 as their leader in the venture. 
 
 An opportunity of speaking with the prisoners was 
 given by the besieged themselves. On receiving the 
 summons of the Black Knight, called in the Norman- 
 French language Le Noir Faineant, the captors sent 
 back a defiance in the hand of the Templar (who was 
 indeed the only one of them able to write). And to this 
 they added these words: "Touching the prisoners, we 
 do in Christian charity require you to send a man of 
 religion to receive their confessions and reconcile them 
 to religion. For it is our fixed intention to execute them
 
 78 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 this morning before noon, so that their heads, placed on 
 the battlements, may show how lightly we esteem those 
 who have bestirred themselves to their rescue." 
 
 The Saxons outside did not believe that the besieged 
 would carry out their threat not from any motive of 
 pity, but because such good ransoms as those of Cedric 
 and Athelstane, not to speak of that of Isaac of York, 
 would not be lightly thrown away. However, the Black 
 Knight considered it absolutely necessary that they 
 should know the strength and spirit of the defenders, in 
 order to profit by the weakness of their defences or the 
 fewness of their numbers. 
 
 Friar Tuck having refused to put his head into the 
 throat of the wolf, Wamba volunteered, trusting to his 
 ready tongue and his witty folly to carry him off. Also, 
 in case of capture, he could plead that, being a fool, 
 he had only acted according to his profession. 
 
 Accordingly, when Wamba arrived at the castle of 
 Torquilstone, he was received without suspicion as the 
 holy man whom they had demanded. The numbers of 
 the party within the castle were few. De Bracy had sent 
 on his band of Free Companions to York, where were 
 also most of Front de Bceuf 's Normans. The Templar, 
 as usual, travelled with his Saracen slaves. There 
 remained therefore only those who had taken part in
 
 THE CASTLE OF FRONT DE BCEUF 79 
 
 the capture, and the two or three men who had been 
 left behind as sufficient to secure so strong a castle as 
 that of Torquilstone against sudden attack. 
 
 The supposed monk was instantly asked how many 
 of the besiegers there might be outside, and threatened 
 with death if he did not speak truly. 
 
 Wamba gave five hundred as a probable figure, 
 whereupon the knights resolved to send a written 
 summons by his own hand to York to summon the full 
 muster of De Bracy's band to their master's relief. 
 
 While this message was being penned on a small 
 piece of parchment such as might be hidden in the heel 
 of a sandal or the hollow of a staff, Wamba set off, 
 muttering scraps of Latin as he went, to prepare Cedric 
 and Athelstane for their doom. 
 
 He found Cedric, full of energy as ever, pacing his 
 dungeon floor, chafing against fate, while easy-going 
 Athelstane awaited for the announcement of death 
 as carelessly as if it had been his dinner. To these 
 Wamba was not long in declaring himself. 
 
 Hardly indeed had he spoken when Cedric cried 
 out that he should know that voice upon which 
 Wamba threw back his monk's hood. 
 
 "The voice is that of your trusty slave and Jester !" 
 said Wamba. "And had you taken a fool's advice 
 before, you would not have been here. Ay, and even
 
 8o RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 if you will take it now, you shall not remain here 
 long!" 
 
 "What do you mean, knave?" demanded Cedric. 
 
 "Take my robe and cord, which are all the orders I 
 ever had," said the fool; "then walk quietly out of the 
 castle, leaving me your cloak and girdle in which to 
 take the Long Leap in your stead !" 
 
 "Why," said Cedric, at once astonished, "they would 
 hang you, my poor -fool!" 
 
 "Well," retorted Wamba, "without disparagement 
 to your birth, I think I could hang in a chain with as 
 much gravity even as you. My grandfather was an 
 alderman and wore a chain round his neck soberly 
 enough. I promise you, Master, that your poor fool 
 will not shame you in the manner of his dying!" 
 
 Cedric was touched. The tears stood in his eyes. 
 
 "Be sure," he said, "that I will come back and de- 
 liver this faithful fool as well as my kinsfolk and 
 friends!" 
 
 And in his turn he assumed the monk's dress, while 
 Athelstane and Wamba gave him advice how to act 
 the part. 
 
 "Remember, a good friar never refuses meat and 
 drink," said the huge Saxon thane, wishing that it had 
 been his luck to be offered either. 
 
 "And whatever they say to you," urged Wamba,
 
 THE CASTLE OF FRONT DE BCEUF 81 
 
 "remember to answer only in a grave churchyard tone 
 'Pax Vobiscum.' That will carry you through. 
 These words are the witch's spell of all holy brothers !" 
 
 So, equipped with robe, cord, and cowl, and mutter- 
 ing his "Pax Vobiscum" to himself, Cedric went out. 
 He had not proceeded far when the soft voice of the 
 Jewess Rebecca called him to the help of a wounded 
 Saxon. She had been permitted by her attendant 
 (a Saxon woman named Urfried, daughter of the former 
 Lord of Torquilstone, long held in captivity by Front 
 de Boeuf and his father) to attend Ivanhoe after his 
 capture by De Bracy. But Urfried came back before 
 Cedric, in the character of a priest, could be brought 
 to the bedside of his son. Urfried also desired a priest 
 to whom, in that abode of iniquity, she could confess 
 herself. 
 
 The story she told was a terrible one, and in the 
 course of it, when she found out that the pretended 
 priest was no other than her father's old friend and 
 ally, Cedric of Rotherwood, it was not difficult to per- 
 suade her to do what she could to assist the prisoners, 
 because in so doing she would also be revenging herself 
 on Front de Bceuf for all the cruelties and indignities 
 he and his father had caused her to undergo. 
 
 "There is," she whispered, "a force beleaguering 
 Torquilstone from without. Cedric, go and lead
 
 82 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 them, and when you see a red flag wave from the 
 eastern turret, press them hard. For then the Normans 
 will have enough to do within the castle. Now begone 
 follow your own fate and leave me to mine." 
 
 She had no time to say more. Neither could Cedric 
 make any reply. For the voice of Front de Bceuf was 
 heard without, in the passage, cursing all loitering 
 priests who sowed treason among his domestics. Yet 
 even Front de Bceuf did not penetrate the disguise of 
 the Saxon thane. He was indeed too full of his own 
 angers and plottings to think of anything else. He 
 ordered the priest to give the Saxon besiegers of the 
 castle an account of the poverty of the defenders, and 
 the scarcity of all the munitions of war. He was to 
 cheer them with the hope that they could take the 
 fortress, and then to slip away to the castle of Philip 
 Malvoisin, who would forward the written scroll to 
 York as fast as horse could gallop. 
 
 "Tell him," said Front de Bceuf, "to fear nothing 
 if he makes reasonable haste. He will find us safe 
 and sound behind the battlements. Shame on it that 
 even for a moment we should be compelled to hide 
 from a pack of runagates, who are wont to fly at the 
 flash of our pennons and the tramp of our horses." 
 
 It was Front de Bceuf himself who convoyed Monk 
 Cedric to the gate, and even slipped a piece of gold into
 
 THE CASTLE OF FRONT DE BCEUF 83 
 
 his hand, which the messenger, so soon as he was clear 
 of the drawbridge, threw back at him with the cry, 
 which happily was not heard by the savage knight, 
 "Thy money perish with thee, false Norman!" 
 
 It was then the turn of Wamba, who, wrapped in 
 Cedric's mantle and with the Saxon's sword by his side, 
 made a very passable franklin, at least with his flat 
 cap pulled low over his face in the darkness of the hall. 
 
 Front de Breuf had the false Cedric and his neigh- 
 bour Athelstane called before him, and with many 
 reproaches commanded them to speak out, and say 
 what they considered the worth of the lives of such 
 Saxon dogs as they were for if not, he would hang 
 them by the feet to the window bars till the crows 
 picked them clean. 
 
 "Not a doit will I offer for mine," said Wamba, 
 "and as for hanging by the feet, my poor brains have 
 been always so topsy-turvy, that turning me upside 
 down might perchance set them right again!" 
 
 "Saint Genevieve!" cried Front de Bceuf; "what 
 have we here?" 
 
 With the back of his hand he struck Cedric's bonnet 
 from the Jester's head, and, throwing open his collar, 
 showed the silver neck-collar, the badge of servitude.
 
 84 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 Then he called aloud to his men. 
 
 "Giles Clement dogs and varlets, what have 
 you brought me here?" 
 
 "Why," exclaimed De Bracy, who came in at the 
 moment, "this is no other than Cedric's clown he 
 who vanquished Isaac of York with his shield of brawn 
 upon an affair of precedence." 
 
 "I will settle their quarrel," cried Front de Bceuf ; 
 "they shall both hang on the same gallows, unless his 
 master is ready to pay well for his life, as they must 
 for their own. Now, rascals (he turned to his own 
 servants), go and bring the right Cedric before me and 
 I will pardon your error for once, the more that you 
 but mistook a fool for a Saxon franklin!" 
 
 But no Cedric could be found in all the castle of 
 Torquilstone, high or low. 
 
 "Saints of heaven ! " cried De Bracy, "he must have 
 escaped in the monk's garments !" 
 
 "Fiends of hell!" shouted the furious Front de 
 Bceuf; "and I myself guided the Saxon knave like a 
 linkman, and dismissed him at the gate with my own 
 hands ! But thou (he turned to Wamba) I will scalp 
 thy crown for thee ! And when that is done, pitch thee 
 headlong from the battlements. Now, man, thy trade 
 is to jest, canst thou jest now?" 
 
 "If you give me the red cap you propose," said
 
 THE CASTLE OF FRONT DE BCEUF 85 
 
 Wamba, whom nothing could dismay, "you are better 
 than your word. For out of a simple monk you will 
 make a cardinal!" 
 
 " Poor wretch," said De Bracy ; "he faces death with 
 good heart and on his lips a jest. Give him to me 
 to make mirth for my Free Companions!" 
 
 De Bracy's timely interference and an urgent alarm 
 on the ramparts saved Wamba's life for the moment, 
 though Front de Bceuf was far indeed from having 
 forgiven the escape of Cedric. 
 
 But a real monk was at the gate, a messenger from 
 the jovial Prior Aymer of Jorvaux. He too had reason 
 to complain. He was, it seemed, in the power of the 
 Saxon outlaws, and desired assistance or ransom. 
 
 "His money-bags are ten times as heavy as ours," 
 said Front de Boeuf, angrily, when the letter was read, 
 "and how shall we succour any one, who are ourselves 
 herded closely by yonder pack of wolves!" 
 
 Meanwhile, in a turret high above, Ivanhoe was lying 
 wounded on his bed. Rebecca, the beautiful Jewess, 
 was watching him. He had heard with impatience the 
 noise of soldiers taking their places on the ramparts, 
 the shouted orders of the knights, the rattle of arms 
 and armour. Cries of fierce defiance came up from
 
 86 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 without. Now and then an arrow would "spat" 
 viciously on the stone of the castle wall, sending the 
 plaster stout shell lime burned upon the shores of 
 the German Ocean in clouds of dust past the nar- 
 row lattice. 
 
 Ivanhoe mourned his evil luck, which kept him tied 
 to his bed on such an occasion, and besought Rebecca 
 to look out and tell him what she saw. 
 
 "They may never come to any battle!" she said, 
 soothingly; "the terrible sounds have ceased for a 
 while." 
 
 "You know nothing about it," cried Ivanhoe, with 
 the impatience of a sick man. "I tell you that silence 
 is just the pause which always happens when the men 
 are on the walls, waiting for instant attack ah, if 
 I could but reach the turret window yonder " 
 
 "Do not harm yourself," said Rebecca, softly. "I 
 myself will look out and tell you, as well as I can, 
 what is happening below." 
 
 "Do not," cried Ivanhoe. "You shall not 
 you must not each lattice each smallest slot will 
 be a mark for arrows some random shaft " 
 
 "It would be welcome!" said Rebecca, with a sigh. 
 She had loved the gallant young knight of Ivanhoe 
 from the first, and though he had looked kindly enough 
 upon her, she knew well that he would never wed one
 
 THE CASTLE OF FRONT DE BCEUF 87 
 
 of the "accursed race," as the Jews were called at that 
 time. 
 
 "Rebecca dear Rebecca," exclaimed Ivanhoe, 
 "this is no maiden's pastime. Do not expose yourself 
 to wounds, and so make me forever miserable to have 
 been the cause!" 
 
 But seeing her determined, he added, "If you must, 
 then at least cover yourself with the old buckler which 
 hangs on the wall yonder, and show as little as possible 
 of your person at the lattice." 
 
 "The skirts of the wood are dark with archers," 
 said Rebecca, peeping cautiously out. "At the outer 
 fortification there is a gate beyond the drawbridge, 
 at which are gathered a great number of the besieged 
 Front de Bceuf at their head. Ah, now the Saxons 
 are advancing to the attack." 
 
 "Under what banner?" 
 
 "Under none that I can see!" said Rebecca, look- 
 ing carefully; "but for a leader they have a knight in 
 black armour whom all about him obey!" 
 
 "What device does he bear on his buckler?" de- 
 manded Ivanhoe, hastily. 
 
 "Something like a bar of iron, and a padlock painted 
 blue on the black shield!" 
 
 Ivanhoe was meditating who might be the bearer 
 of this remarkable coat of arms, when Rebecca, utter-
 
 88 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 ing a sharp cry, which was half a prayer for protection 
 and half the instinct of girlish fear, informed the 
 wounded knight that the assailants were at last ap- 
 proaching the castle under cover of huge shields and 
 defences made of planks. 
 
 The Saxon bugles blew loudly beneath. The Nor- 
 man trumpets threw back their defiance from the 
 ramparts. The assailants cried, "Saint George for 
 Merry England !" The Normans answered with loud 
 cries of "En avant De Bracy ! Beau-seant! Beau-seant! 
 Front de Bceuf a la rescousse I " as each man-at-arms 
 called the war-cry of his own commander. 
 
 [At this point, unperceived by the children and my 
 other auditors, I dropped my eye upon my author, 
 the only begetter of these wonderful tales.] 
 
 The archers, trained by their woodland pastimes to 
 the most effective use of the long-bow, shot, to use the 
 appropriate phrase of the time, so " wholly together," 
 that no point at which a defender could show the least 
 part of his person escaped their cloth-yard shafts. 
 By this heavy discharge, which continued as thick and 
 sharp as hail, while, notwithstanding, every arrow 
 had its individual aim, and flew by scores together 
 against each embrasure and opening in the parapets, 
 as well as at every window where a defender either
 
 THE CASTLE OF FRONT DE BCEUF 89 
 
 occasionally had post, or might be suspected to be 
 stationed, by this sustained discharge, two or three of 
 the garrison were slain and several others wounded. 
 But, confident in their armour of proof, and in the cover 
 which their situation afforded, the followers of Front 
 de Breuf and his allies showeq! an obstinacy in defence 
 proportioned to the fury of the attack, and replied with 
 the discharge of their large crossbows, as well as with 
 their long-bows, slings, and other missile weapons, to 
 the close and continued showers of arrows ; and, as the 
 assailants were necessarily but indifferently protected, 
 did considerably more damage than they received at 
 their hand. The whizzing of shafts and of missiles, 
 on both sides, was only interrupted by the shouts 
 which arose when either side inflicted or sustained 
 some notable loss. 
 
 "What dost thou see, Rebecca?" again demanded 
 the wounded knight, eagerly. 
 
 " Nothing but the cloud of arrows flying so thick as 
 to dazzle mine eyes, and to hide the bowmen who 
 shoot them." 
 
 "That cannot endure," cried Ivanhoe; "if they 
 press not right on to carry the castle by pure force of 
 arms, the archery may avail but little against stone 
 walls and bulwarks. Look for the Knight of the 
 Fetterlock, fair Rebecca, and see how he bears him-
 
 90 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 self; for as the leader is, so will the followers 
 be." 
 
 "I see him not," said Rebecca. 
 
 "Foul craven," exclaimed Ivanhoe; "does he 
 blench from the helm when the wind blows highest?" 
 
 "He blenches not ! he blenches not !" said Rebecca. 
 "I see him now; he heads a body of men close under 
 the outer barrier of the barbican. They pull down 
 the piles and palisades; they hew down the barriers 
 with axes. His high black plume floats abroad over 
 the throng, like a raven over the field of the slain. 
 They have made a breach in the barriers they rush 
 in they are thrust back ! Front de Bceuf heads 
 the defenders ; I see his gigantic form above the press. 
 They throng again to the breach, and the pass is dis- 
 puted hand to hand, and man to man. God of Jacob ! 
 it is the meeting of two fierce tides the conflict of 
 two oceans moved by adverse winds!" 
 
 She turned her head from the lattice, as if unable 
 longer to endure a sight so terrible. 
 
 "Look forth again, Rebecca," said Ivanhoe, mis- 
 taking the cause of her retiring; "the archery must in 
 some degree have ceased, since they are now fighting 
 hand to hand. Look again, there is now less danger." 
 
 Rebecca again looked forth, and almost immediately 
 exclaimed: "Holy prophets of the law! Front de
 
 WHAT DOST THOU SEE, REBECCA ? "
 
 THE CASTLE OF FRONT DE BCEUF 91 
 
 Bceuf and the Black Knight fight hand to hand on the 
 breach, amid the roar of their followers, who watch 
 the progress of the strife. Heaven strike with the 
 cause of the oppressed and of the captive!" She 
 then uttered a loud shriek, and exclaimed, "He is 
 down! he is down!" 
 
 "Who is down?" cried Ivanhoe; "for Our dear 
 Lady's sake, tell me which has fallen?" 
 
 "The Black Knight," answered Rebecca, faintly; 
 then instantly again shouted with eager joyfulness 
 "But no but no ! the name of the Lord of Hosts 
 be blessed ! he is on foot again, and fights as if 
 there were twenty men's strength in his single arm. 
 His sword is broken he snatches an axe from a yeo- 
 man he presses Front de Bceuf with blow on blow. 
 The giant stoops and totters like an oak under the 
 steel of the woodman he falls he falls!" 
 
 "Front de Bceuf?" exclaimed Ivanhoe. 
 
 "Front de Bceuf !" answered the Jewess. "His men 
 rush to the rescue, headed by the haughty Templar ; 
 their united force compels the champion to pause. 
 They drag Front-de-Bceuf within the walls." 
 
 "The assailants have won the barriers, have they 
 not?" said Ivanhoe. 
 
 "They have they have ! " exclaimed Rebecca ; "and 
 they press the besieged hard upon the outer wall;
 
 92 
 
 some plant ladders, some swarm like bees, and en- 
 deavour to ascend upon the shoulder of each other; 
 down go stones, beams, and trunks of trees upon their 
 heads, and as fast as they bear the wounded to the rear, 
 fresh men supply their places in the assault. Great 
 God ! hast thou given men thine own image, that it 
 should be thus cruelly defaced by the hands of their 
 brethren ! " 
 
 "Think not of that," said Ivanhoe; "this is no time 
 for such thoughts. Who yield? who push their way?" 
 
 "The ladders are thrown down," replied Rebecca, 
 shuddering; "the soldiers lie grovelling under them 
 like crushed reptiles. The besieged have the better." 
 
 "Saint George strike for us !" exclaimed the knight; 
 "do the false yeomen give way?" 
 
 "No!" exclaimed Rebecca; "they bear themselves 
 right yeomanly. The Black Knight approaches the 
 postern with his huge axe; the thundering blows 
 which he deals, you may hear them above all the din 
 and shouts of the battle. Stones and beams are 
 hailed down on the bold champion; he regards them 
 no more than if they were thistledown or feathers!" 
 
 "By Saint John of Acre," said Ivanhoe, raising 
 himself joyfully on his couch, "methought there was 
 but one man in England that might do such a deed !" 
 
 "The postern gate shakes," continued Rebecca;
 
 THE CASTLE OF FRONT DE BCEUF 93 
 
 "it crashes it is splintered by his blows they 
 rush in the outwork is won. O God ! they hurl 
 the defenders from the battlements they throw 
 them into the moat. O men, if ye be indeed men, 
 spare them that can resist no longer!" 
 
 "The bridge the bridge which communicates 
 with the castle have they won that pass?" ex- 
 claimed Ivanhoe. 
 
 "No," replied Rebecca, "the Templar has destroyed 
 the plank on which they crossed few of the defenders 
 escaped with him into the castle the shrieks and 
 cries which you hear tell the fate of the others." 
 
 END OF THE FIFTH TALE FROM " IVANHOE " 
 
 The children scattered into the dim and misty twi- 
 light of the Park Near Wood, there to commit mutual 
 assault and battery. Nipper Donnan accompanied 
 them. His father sent a hail of warning after him. 
 
 Nipper (it appeared) had to be "in," in time to wash 
 counters and "clean up." He was also required "not 
 to hurt the young ladies and gentlemen." His father 
 stated the attached pains and penalties in detail, and 
 these, if carried out with rigour, would have made the 
 days of Nipper Donnan brief in the land. 
 
 However, from information received, I was able to
 
 94 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 reassure Mr. Butcher Donnan. The young gentlemen, 
 not to mention the ladies, were quite able to look after 
 themselves. Once there had been warfare of a serious 
 kind between the house of Donnan and that of Windy 
 Standard. But now all that was (literally) no more 
 than "a tale that is told." 
 
 So I remained alone in the growing dusk with Mr. 
 Butcher Donnan. The night-jar, upon whose visits 
 we so greatly pride ourselves, swooped past with a soft 
 "woof" of feathers. 
 
 "Pity that fellow Locksley isn't here to put an arrow 
 through that there owel!" said Donnan. 
 
 I informed the good Butcher that if Locksley at- 
 tempted such a thing, I should certainly speak to the 
 police. 
 
 "Holy Bridget ! " said Mr. Donnan, "ye don't mean 
 to say now that ye preserves varmin like them. What 
 good does the like o' him do?" 
 
 I explained that the night-jar did no harm. On 
 the contrary, that he ate moths which laid caterpillars, 
 which ate vegetables also flies which made the meat 
 in butchers' shops go bad ! 
 
 "Does he so?" cried Mr. Donnan, interested by 
 this very sketchy natural history; "thin, can you tell 
 me where that there 'jarry-oweP has his nest? I'll 
 send that Nipper o' mine to get a pair o' young ones.
 
 INTERLUDE 95 
 
 Them flies in the shop is a pest and all ! Sure this 
 'jarry-owel' goes for the big blue 'uns?" 
 
 I was sure. Bushels was no name for the quantity 
 of "big blue 'uns" one single "jarry-owel" could 
 account for in a day. 
 
 It was arranged, therefore, that if our night-jars 
 nested, a pair were to be the portion of Nipper Donnan, 
 who was to feed them for his father. Privately I ar- 
 ranged, for natural history reasons, that nothing of 
 the kind should take place. 
 
 Then what I had been waiting for occurred. Mr. 
 Butcher Donnan began his impressions of "Ivanhoe." 
 
 "Between you an' me" (he began), "the man that 
 wrote down yon yarn, put in a bit of a stretcher here an' 
 there. Now don't be thinkin' I mean about the 
 splitting of that saugh-wand I've done some neat 
 things with a rook-rifle myself. But them all runnin' 
 about with priests' duds on, and one bein' took for 
 another regular as Saturday's pay-day. Think I'd 
 not know you, sir, if you was dressed up in Father 
 Phil Flannigan's togs, or you me? 'Donnan,' sez 
 you, 'come out of that harness. There's no good 
 comes of such doin's ' and right you would be. 
 Regular treadin' on the coat-tails of Holy Saint Peter, 
 I call it." 
 
 But I pointed out to Mr. Donnan that the times had
 
 96 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 changed during seven centuries, and how monks and 
 priests were freer in their actions in those days. 
 
 "I should say so, indeed," cried Mr. Donnan. "Now 
 that Friar Tuck was a regular hedge priest, with his 
 poachin' and potheen drinkin'. But for all his clay- 
 more an' Highland sports rig-out, I'll wager Father 
 Phil Flannigan could crack his head with a sprig of 
 the tidy black-thorn in four seconds by a stop-watch." 
 
 I explained about Robin Hood and the hatred of 
 Saxon to Norman on account of old sores about evic- 
 tions and loss of landed property. 
 
 "No wonder, then, that when Ivanhoe an' his Saxons 
 got the upper hand again wid their Magny Charty to 
 help them (and a fine fellow I'll be bound he was !) 
 they came over and started the same game wid us in 
 Ireland. 'Twas the same old Norman medicine they 
 gave us ay, an' to this very day, as I've heard my 
 grandfather tell " 
 
 But here Mr. Butcher Donnan began to talk high 
 treason, into which we will not follow him. To turn 
 him from his fixed idea of a modern application for 
 Ivanhoe, I suggested that it might be well to superintend 
 the siege of Torquilstone down in the valley, where an 
 old castellated ruin stood on a long low island in the 
 river, and represented the strength of Front de Bceuf. 
 
 There was no doubt about the genuineness of the
 
 INTERLUDE 97 
 
 siege of this Torquilstone. Nipper had been the only 
 one of the company who would take the part of the 
 gigantic "Front de Boeuf." He would do anything so 
 long as there was good fighting and plenty of it. Any- 
 one could call him "Front de Boeuf" with impunity. 
 But if the noblest of earth's sons had called him 
 "Beef Head," Nipper would have held it a trade insult, 
 only to be wiped out in immediate blood. 
 
 Maid Margaret had been put in a high turret out of 
 harm's way, with a shawl about her and an imaginary 
 Ivanhoe to nurse. 
 
 But immediately on the outbreak of hostilities, 
 desolated at being left so decidedly out of things, she 
 descended and began actively to assist Front de Boeuf 
 Donnan against her own kith and kin, that noble 
 Saxon, Hugh John Locksley, the good knight Sir 
 Toadac, and the beautiful amazon Sweetheart-ofrida. 
 
 These last three, as we passed the bridge and came in 
 sight of the castle wall, were manfully attacking the 
 partisan and swarming up the whiffletree to the top of 
 the Gothic carapace. (This is what I was told. There 
 was no time to think of the exact words in the enthusiasm 
 of the moment.) 
 
 At any rate they were getting over certain half- 
 ruined walls, and directing a hail of deadly bulrushes 
 against the solitary champion in the gateway.
 
 9 8 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 These huge reeds had been plucked out of the 
 marshes of the Castle Isle and, with a lump of the roots 
 still adhering to each, they flew well and made capital 
 javelins. 
 
 "Oh, come on, will you! Again, again! Well 
 shot, my merry men," cried Locksley. "Well hit, 
 fetched him on the noddle, Sweetheart-of rida ! " 
 
 Then the real hearty Saxon cheer went up, led by the 
 Black Knight Sir Toadac, who was returning with an 
 armful of reeds of superior caliber. 
 
 But a sudden and terrible thought came into the 
 head of Maid Margaret, who ought according to the 
 text to have been attending to Ivanhoe up aloft, but in 
 reality was dancing about, fighting side-by-side, and 
 round the corner and under the armpits of Front de 
 Donnan. 
 
 There was a dungeon in the corner of the keep, the 
 bottom of which, ever since certain events already 
 historically recorded, had been filled with a liquid 
 black sludge, owing to the bricking up of the passage- 
 exit. Margaret the Turncoat Maid accordingly gath- 
 ered up all the shot darts quite an armful they were 
 and, leaning over carefully, dabbled the roots in the 
 ink-black porridge.
 
 INTERLUDE 99 
 
 THE BESIEGERS HAD ON WHITE SUMMERY CLOTHES 
 
 This was the thought. The besiegers also had 
 Powers-that-demand-to-be-told "How did you get so 
 dirty?" Maid Margaret wore dark blue and even 
 these were protected by feudal walls and the aforesaid 
 carapaces and baroccos and vanilla tureens. (The 
 Maid never could remember these long words exactly.) 
 
 After that the outside leopards changed their spots 
 very often indeed, by the familiar process of simple 
 addition. Sweetheart-ofrida soon had enough, and 
 retired from the field, almost sobbing. 
 
 "It's too bad too bad," she mourned; "it's spoilt 
 ruined simply ruined ! And all that mischievous 
 little oh, wait till I get her!" 
 
 Archer Hugh John Locksley and the good black 
 (and white) knight Sir Toadac fought on. But the 
 verdict of the first attack on Torquilstone was clearly 
 reversed. 
 
 Sternly Front de Donnan continued to hold the great 
 gate, and behind him Maid (Rebecca) Margaret 
 danced, cheering wildly, herself speckless, as she saw 
 three dishevelled spectacles led away in the direction 
 of Windy Standard for court martial and punishment. 
 
 THE ENT> (Moral sixpence extra)
 
 ioo RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 Owing to Butcher Donnan's preoccupations for 
 several days, the Red Cap Demon had perforce to 
 remain in his great oak chest in the Wizard's Hall. 
 
 Finally, however, Mr. Donnan arrived one afternoon 
 on the heels of tea. It was Sir Toady who caught 
 sight of him with his cap already in his hand, pulling 
 an apologetic forelock at the garden gate. Nipper 
 lurked in the shadows, and Nipper's terrier Spot fra- 
 ternised with Boss the fox-ternfer who was unto Sir 
 Toady as the apple of his eye. 
 
 The days were not very distant when such signs 
 would have been warlike and discourteous. Now, 
 however, all was changed. 
 
 "If you please, sir," said Butcher Donnan (spoken 
 with a faint far-away whiff of the if-ye-plaize, sorr of 
 his native Connaught), "but if it was convenient for you 
 an' the youngsters but I see them comin' as fast 
 as their legs can carry them. Faith, it's no bad use 
 that ye'll be puttin' my foine beef an' mutton to, in 
 rearing such calves as them !" 
 
 Like many people Butcher Donnan was easily pleased 
 with a joke when he made it himself. So as this 
 one combined (as it were) business and pleasure, he 
 laughed heartily. He refused a cup of tea as not 
 being "his habit," but compromised on "a little some- 
 think neat," which he tossed off with a knowing twitch 
 of his little finger, and the ghost of a wink.
 
 THE SACK OF TORQUILSTONE 101 
 
 We gathered under the slopes of a woody hill. The 
 Esk ran clear as crystal beneath, doves cooed across 
 among the birch copses, rooks sailed aloft, playing 
 catch-as-catch-can, and to a full house, and a specially 
 attentive gallery (consisting of Nipper, Sir Toady, 
 and the two fox-terriers), I began 
 
 THE FIFTH TALE FROM "IVANHOE" 
 
 I. THE SACK OF TORQUILSTONE 
 
 WHEN Cedric the Saxon escaped from the castle, he 
 found the besieging force strengthening their newly 
 captured positions. Though much of the castle was 
 yet to take, these furnished a capital base for another 
 attack. Neither he nor the Black Knight were in- 
 clined to trust much to Urfried's message. All the 
 same they knew it was good to have a well-wisher 
 within a castle which they must shortly take by storm. 
 
 All agreed that immediate attack was necessary to 
 save the lives of the prisoners. There was no time to 
 lose with a murderous savage like Front de Bceuf, 
 of whose fall they knew, but not how severely he was 
 wounded. But the axe of the Black Knight had bitten 
 deep, and Front de Bceuf lay dying the death of the 
 blasphemer and the parricide. 
 
 At the second assault, Locksley again took charge
 
 102 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 of the archery, declaring that he defied a man to show 
 himself on the defences without being struck as full of 
 arrows as a gammon of bacon is of cloves at Christmas. 
 
 Cedric offered to fight with the foremost in the ranks, 
 but steadfastly declined any command. He had no 
 skill, he said, either in holding or in taking Norman 
 castles. 
 
 The Black Knight therefore rallied the yeomen who 
 were to follow him in the hardest part of the assault. 
 The moat must be crossed, and for this purpose a raft 
 was constructed, or rather a kind of long floating bridge. 
 
 The heaviest of the attack fell to the Black Knight. 
 He was to push across upon the raft as soon as the 
 attention of the besiegers was occupied by Locksley 
 and his archers on the opposite side. Accordingly the 
 Black Knight made a sudden attack, closely followed 
 by Cedric, and reached the gate of the castle. The 
 huge axe he carried instantly began to thunder upon it. 
 His followers, however, were not quick enough, nor 
 did they receive the same protection as the two closer 
 to the wall. Two were shot with cross-bow bolts, two 
 more fell into the moat, while the rest retreated abruptly 
 to shelter behind the barbican. 
 
 Cedric and the Black Knight were now in a very 
 perilous position. The arrows of the archers alone 
 gave them a breathing space.
 
 THE SACK OF TORQUILSTONE 103 
 
 " Shame on ye all," De Bracy cried from above to 
 the wavering Normans; "do ye call yourselves cross- 
 bowmen and let these two dogs keep their place at the 
 castle portal ? Heave over the coping stones on their 
 heads get pick-axe and levers, and down with that 
 pinnacle !" 
 
 But at this very moment of danger and discourage- 
 ment Locksley, from his station on the opposite side 
 of the keep, caught sight of the red flag, Urfried's 
 promised signal. He hastened round and in a moment 
 saw the danger of the two leaders. 
 
 "Saint George!" he cried, "Merry Saint George 
 for England ! To the charge, bold yeomen ! Why 
 leave ye the good knight and noble Cedric to storm the 
 pass alone? Make in, mad priest; show thou canst 
 fight for the rosary. The castle is ours ! We have 
 friends within. Torquilstone is ours!" 
 
 With two arrows in succession Locksley slew the 
 soldiers who were loosening the pinnacle to cast it 
 down upon the heads of the two assailants by the 
 gate. The men-at-arms were daunted. Plate armour 
 itself seemed no defence against this tremendous 
 archer. 
 
 "Do ye give ground, base knaves?" cried De Bracy, 
 "Mount joye Saint Denis! Give me the lever!" 
 
 Thrice did Locksley send a shaft fair against De
 
 104 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 Bracy's breast, and three times did the arrow rebound 
 from his armour. 
 
 " Curse on thy Spanish steel-coat!" cried Locksley; 
 "had English smith forged it these arrows would 
 have gone through it as through silk! Comrades, 
 friends, noble Cedric, bear back and let the ruin 
 fall!" 
 
 But in the din of battle and the onfall of the Black 
 Knight's huge axe on the postern gate, no one heard, 
 or at least none paid any attention. 
 
 But, closely following the red signal flag, flames 
 broke from all the western side of the keep. The 
 Black Knight with his huge axe burst the door and 
 rushed into the castle, dealing blows to right and left. 
 De Bracy hastened to meet the champion. But though 
 he fought valiantly, a blow, which would have killed 
 him on the spot if he had not partly caught it on his 
 shield, levelled him to the ground. 
 
 Even thus he refused to yield without knowing the 
 name of his captor. The Black Knight stooped and 
 whispered a word in his ear which caused him sud- 
 denly to change his tone. 
 
 "Go to the barbican," commanded the victor, 
 "and there await my further orders." 
 
 "First," said De Bracy, "let me tell you what 
 you ought to know. Wilfred of Ivanhoe lies yonder
 
 THE SACK OF TORQUILSTONE 105 
 
 wounded and a prisoner. He will perish in the burning 
 castle unless help be taken to him immediately." 
 
 "Wilfred of Ivanhoe!" cried the Black Knight, 
 fiercely; "if a hair of his head perish, the neck of every 
 man in the castle shall answer for it ! Show me the 
 chamber!" 
 
 De Bracy pointed to a stair, and himself asked per- 
 mission to show the victor the way. But the Black 
 Knight repelled him with a cold "I do not trust thee, 
 De Bracy! To the barbican, as I bade thee!" 
 
 In Ivanhoe's chamber, the smoke had been thicken- 
 ing, the red tongues of the flames began to dance above 
 the turrets, and the crackling of the burning rafters 
 drowned all other sounds. 
 
 Again and again Ivanhoe begged Rebecca to save 
 herself, but she only answered that, if it were death, 
 they would die together. 
 
 This, however, was not to be granted her. From 
 two sides rescuers were approaching. First came 
 the fierce Templar Bois-Guilbert, who burst suddenly 
 into the chamber, his gilded armour hacked and 
 reddened with the fury of battle, his plume burnt and 
 shorn with fire and sword. 
 
 "Come, Rebecca," he cried; "there is but one path
 
 io6 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 to safety. I will cut my way through fifty perils to 
 carry you away!" 
 
 "Alone," said Rebecca, "I will never follow you. 
 If any heart is left in you, save my aged father save 
 this wounded knight!" 
 
 "A knight," answered the Templar, calmly, "must 
 encounter his fate whether it meets him in the shape of 
 sword or flame. And who cares how or where a Jew 
 meets with his?" 
 
 So saying, he seized the terrified maiden, and in 
 spite of her shrieks carried her out of the room amidst 
 the vain taunts and helpless defiances of Ivanhoe. 
 At that moment the Black Knight entered the chamber 
 hurriedly. Ivanhoe besought him in a breath to seize 
 the traitor to save the Lady Rowena to look to 
 the noble Cedric. 
 
 "In their turn," answered the Knight of the Fetter- 
 lock, "but yours first!" 
 
 So with no more words he caught up Ivanhoe in his 
 arms as easily as the Templar had carried off the 
 slender form of Rebecca. 
 
 Such was that famous sack of Torquilstone, the 
 castle of Front de Bceuf, at which quarter was neither 
 asked nor given. Stairs and pavements grew slippery
 
 THE SACK OF TORQUILSTONE 107 
 
 with blood. Only Bois-Guilbert with a little troop held 
 firm, surrounding Rebecca, who had been placed on 
 horseback before one of his Saracen slaves. Not- 
 withstanding the fury of the fight he showed every 
 attention to her safety. Repeatedly he was at the side 
 of the Jewess, defending her with his triangular shield, 
 careless of his own defence. Then again, starting 
 suddenly, he would charge out, crying his war-cry, 
 and, striking the foremost of his assailants to the earth, 
 would be back the next moment at her bridle-rein. 
 
 At last Athelstane, who had noticed the female 
 figure in the midst of the Saracens and made no doubt 
 that it was Rowena, cried out that he alone would 
 rescue her from the proud knight. 
 
 "Think what you do," said Wamba the Jester; 
 "yon dark locks are none of the Lady Rowena's; and 
 for yourself, forget not that silk bonnet stops not steel 
 blade." 
 
 But Athelstane, if unready, was also obstinate. He 
 attacked the Templar stoutly enough, but Bois-Guil- 
 bert, causing his horse to rear, brought down his sword 
 so trenchantly that it shore through the silken bonnet, 
 and Athelstane fell dead on the ground. 
 
 In the confusion which followed, the Templar, 
 after vainly calling upon De Bracy, galloped off with 
 his followers and Rebecca still captive in the midst.
 
 io8 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 Higher and higher the flames mounted till they 
 enveloped the witchlike figure of the Saxon Urfried, 
 as she stood tossing her arms in wild exultation, as if 
 queening it among the vengeance she had wrought 
 upon the house of her shame. 
 
 At last, with a dreadful crash, the whole turret gave 
 way, and Urfried perished in the flames which had 
 already consumed her tyrant. All made the sign of 
 the Cross, and then the voice of Locksley was heard : 
 " Shout, yeomen the den of tyrants is no more! 
 To the Trysting-tree with your spoil ! There we will 
 most justly divide the booty with our worthy allies in 
 this great vengeance !" 
 
 What followed is soon told. The outlaws assembled 
 under a great oak, which stood in the inmost glade of 
 Sherwood. It was the Trysting-tree, a sort of Parlia- 
 ment House for the band. Robin Hood, laying aside 
 his borrowed names of Archer Locksley and Cleave- 
 the-wand, presided over the strange gathering. At one 
 side of his throne sat the Black Knight and on the other 
 the Noble Cedric. 
 
 But neither of these would accept any part of the 
 spoils of the castle of Front de Boeuf. The Saxon 
 franklin answered that for himself he was rich enough 
 out of his own wealth to reward his followers. The 
 Black Knight asked only the life of Maurice de Bracy,
 
 THE SACK OF TORQUILSTONE ic 9 
 
 whom he took a little apart and dismissed with a stern 
 caution as to his future behaviour. Cedric, on the 
 petition of Wamba the Jester, freed Gurth the swine- 
 herd, because he had so well tended his son. He be- 
 came, therefore, a free man and a vassal instead of a 
 serf and a slave. 
 
 Before the feast was finished the Black Knight ac- 
 cepted the hunting horn of Robin Hood, and was taught 
 a call upon it, which, said the outlaw, might in some day 
 of utmost need, rally about him some few sturdy comrades. 
 
 "Better help than thine and that of thy rangers 
 would I never seek," the Black Knight answered, 
 "were it in the face of Death itself!" 
 
 The Black Knight departed alone through the woods 
 to the north. Cedric conveyed Rowena back to Rother- 
 wood. The outlaws were left with the Jew Isaac and a 
 new prisoner led in by Friar Tuck. This was no other 
 than Prior Aymer of Jorvaux, a most dignified church- 
 man, ready to curse all and sundry concerned in his 
 capture. 
 
 It was decided that the Jew and he should name 
 each other's ransoms. Six hundred crowns was the 
 amount named by the Jew for the Prior. The Prior 
 declared that the Jew could easily pay a thousand. 
 
 "A sentence! A sentence! Solomon could not 
 have done better!" cried the outlaws, laughing aloud.
 
 no RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 But Locksley, or rather Robin Hood, was touched 
 by the grief and anxiety of the Jew for his lost daughter. 
 He accepted, therefore, only a moderate sum, or rather 
 the promise of it, and bade Isaac make all speed to 
 Templestowe, where he might possibly be able to buy 
 his daughter back for a heavy ransom. Nay more, 
 for a bag of silver marks and the promise of more, the 
 Prior was willing to write a letter which might aid the 
 Jew in the recovery of Rebecca. 
 
 He took the tablets from Isaac's hand, but, struck 
 with a sudden scruple, he declared that rather than use 
 the pen of an unbeliever he would fast for twenty-four 
 hours. Locksley, however, proved himself as usual 
 equal to the occasion. He bent his bow and aimed a 
 shaft at the leading goose of a flock which was winging 
 its way overhead down to the distant and solitary fens 
 of Holderness. The bird came fluttering down, trans- 
 fixed by the arrow. 
 
 "There, Prior," said the outlaw, "I have provided 
 all the monks of your abbey with pens for a hundred 
 years, unless they take to writing chronicles." 
 
 So without more ado the letter to the Templar was 
 written and Isaac of York went on his way with it, 
 somewhat sadly, it must be owned. For, indeed, he 
 knew not what awaited himself or his daughter in that 
 abode of their enemies.
 
 REBECCA'S CHAMPION in 
 
 n. REBECCA'S CHAMPION 
 
 When Bois-Guilbert reached Templestowe with 
 Rebecca and his Saracen followers, he found shelter 
 indeed, and comparative security. The Preceptory of 
 the Knights Templar was strong beyond any power of 
 Saxon outlaw to besiege. But, all unwitting, he had 
 fallen into a far greater peril. 
 
 For Lucas Beaumanoir, the Grand Master of the 
 Order of the Temple, had arrived. He found the 
 Preceptories of his Order in England in a state of laxity 
 and confusion that deeply shocked him. He was a 
 severe and aged man, a great warrior in his day, but 
 with the narrow soul of a persecuting priest. 
 
 Philip Malvoisin, the Chief of the Order at Temple- 
 stowe, dared not tell him that Bois-Guilbert had brought 
 a Jew maiden like Rebecca within the very precincts 
 of the fortress-abbey itself. Beaumanoir, however, 
 learned the matter for himself. He intercepted the 
 letter which Isaac of York brought from Prior Aymer 
 to Bois-Guilbert, and, pushing his right of Grand Mas- 
 ter to its limit, he opened and read it. 
 
 In the letter so hastily written with the grey-goose 
 quill under the eyes of Locksley, the Prior- spoke of 
 Rebecca as the Witch of Endor, and as the Jewish 
 sorceress whose black eyes had bewitched the Knight 
 Templar.
 
 ii2 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 These careless jesting words were enough to kindle 
 the ever-smouldering hatred of the Grand Master 
 against all sorcery. So, hearing that Rebecca had 
 learned the art of healing from a witch one of those 
 poor old women who had been condemned and exe- 
 cuted for working magic, Beaumanoir immediately 
 determined that Rebecca also should be tried for prac- 
 tising diabolic arts upon Bois-Guilbert, and thus caus- 
 ing him to break the rules of his Order. 
 
 To be tried for such a crime before a fanatic like the 
 Grand Master of the Temple was to be condemned, 
 and it was only by means of Bois-Guilbert himself, 
 who succeeded in passing a paper to Rebecca, that she 
 was saved from an immediate death by fire. Bois- 
 Guilbert, in whose breast a deep and sullen anger 
 against the Grand Master was burning, wrote in the 
 Arabic character on a slip of paper, "Demand a 
 champion!" Doubtless that grain of good which re- 
 mains in the heart of every man, however evil, moved 
 him to do this in order that he might gain time to save 
 Rebecca. But his comrades of the Order made his 
 case worse than before by moving the Grand Master 
 to select him as the champion of the Temple against 
 the accused. 
 
 Three days were granted Rebecca for the appearance 
 of a knight willing to do battle for her life.
 
 REBECCA'S CHAMPION 113 
 
 One Higg, son of Snell, a poor churl whom she had 
 cured of a sore disease which had held him long bed- 
 ridden, volunteered, though maimed and lame, to 
 carry a letter to Rebecca's father. It was all that he 
 could do, and he excused him to his fellows by saying 
 that he did not believe that she who had cured his 
 body meant any harm to his soul. 
 
 This mission Higg, son of Snell, carried out like the 
 valiant joiner he was. Speeding York-wards on the 
 hired work-horse of his neighbour Buthan, Higg met 
 two Jews riding southward. He knew them from afar 
 by their dress and their huge yellow caps. One was a 
 certain Rabbi, a learned man, and the other no other 
 than Isaac of York himself. At the first sight of the 
 letter brought at such peril by Higg, son of Snell, the 
 Jew fell to the ground insensible. For with all his 
 heart, though not with all his gold pieces, Isaac of 
 York loved his only daughter Rebecca. 
 
 The scroll informed him that she was condemned to 
 be burned at the stake for sorcery, if a champion could 
 not be found to do immediate battle for her at Temple- 
 stowe. The last part of Rebecca's letter bade her 
 father send the news at once to Ivanhoe, whom she 
 had nursed while a prisoner in the castle of Front de 
 Bceuf. 
 
 "One Nazarene warrior there is " (so Rebecca wrote)
 
 ii 4 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 " who might indeed bear arms on my behalf even Wil- 
 fred, son of Cedric. But he may not yet endure the 
 weight of his armour. Nevertheless, send the tidings 
 to him, my father. For he hath favour among the 
 strong men of his people and he may yet find some one 
 to do battle for my sake. Tell him that I am wholly 
 innocent, whether I live or whether I die." 
 
 The Rabbi, being a wise man, bade Isaac take cour- 
 age about his daughter. Wilfred of Ivanhoe might 
 indeed help, seeing that he had great favour in the 
 eyes of Richard the King, who was certainly on his 
 way back to England. "Besides," added the Rabbi, 
 cunningly, "with gold thou canst buy the valour of the 
 Gentiles. I also will be up and doing. I will hie me 
 to the city of York, where many warriors and strong 
 men are assembled, and I doubt not but that in case of 
 need I will find some one to do battle for thy daughter. 
 Only do you bear me out in the matter of the money I 
 shall have to pay!" 
 
 n* 1* 1* 1* *f* *f* T* 
 
 That night Rebecca, alone in her cell, was surprised 
 by a visit from Bois-Guilbert. At sight of the Templar 
 she shrank back as having been the cause of all her 
 troubles. 
 
 However, on this occasion he came with offers of
 
 REBECCA'S CHAMPION 115 
 
 assistance, freedom, great honour, indeed, if Rebecca 
 would only consent to cast in her lot with his. 
 
 He declared that it had been his intention to come 
 and fight for her, disguised as a roving knight in search 
 of adventures, had not the choice of the Grand Master 
 fallen upon him to represent the Order. 
 
 Rebecca could only reply that all was now too late. 
 
 "Still," said the Templar, with a graver earnestness 
 than he had yet shown, "I am ready to make the great 
 sacrifices for your sake. None have ever been able 
 to withstand me in the lists or in battle except 
 Richard of England and his minion Ivanhoe. Of 
 these Ivanhoe is wounded and cannot bear arms, while 
 Richard is in a foreign prison. If I enter the lists 
 against you, your doom is sure. But I need not enter 
 them. Rebecca, for your sake I will become a disgraced 
 and outcast man. I will renounce my highest ambi- 
 tions. I will go to Palestine, where Conrade Marquis 
 of Montserrat is my friend. I will join Saladin if no 
 better may be. For you I will hew out a kingdom. 
 You shall sit on its throne a crowned queen !" 
 
 But Rebecca refused, steadfastly and calmly. These 
 were but dreams, she said, but even if true, not thus 
 would she be saved, by a renegade and a traitor to his 
 own Order and religion. 
 
 "Then," retorted the Templar, "if you will not, you
 
 u6 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 seal your own doom. Once lance in rest in the lists 
 and nothing shall move me. The fiery death of the 
 condemned sorceress shall be yours, instead of the 
 happy future which I now offer you." 
 
 "Even so, I forgive you," said the Jewish maiden, 
 "as freely as ever victim forgave her executioner." 
 
 The Templar went out deeply moved, and it was 
 with infinite difficulty that the Preceptor Malvoisin 
 kept him from bearding the Grand Master on his 
 chair, renouncing his vows, and demanding to be per- 
 mitted to defend instead of to accuse the honour and 
 life of Rebecca. 
 
 But Malvoisin soon showed Bois-Guilbert that this 
 would only be to lose himself without benefiting Re- 
 becca. He would certainly be treated as mad, and 
 thrust into a dungeon a hundred feet under ground. 
 More than all he would be denounced in every Chris- 
 tian land as a recreant knight, for whom not even the 
 victim that he had thrown away all for had any pity 
 or gratitude. This last argument was conclusive. 
 The third day would find Bois-Guilbert in the lists 
 to do battle for his Order against the sorceress. 
 
 So at Templestowe Rebecca lay waiting death or a 
 deliverer till the third day. Then at the appointed
 
 REBECCA'S CHAMPION 117 
 
 time the heavy bell of the church of St. Michael's of 
 Templestowe began to toll. The sullen sounds chilled 
 the hearts of the multitude assembled. All eyes were 
 turned to the great gate of the castle, expecting the 
 approach of the Grand Master, the champion, and the 
 criminal. 
 
 At length the drawbridge fell, the gates opened, and 
 a knight, bearing the great standard of the Order, 
 sallied from the castle, preceded by six trumpets, and 
 followed by the Knights Preceptor, two by two, the 
 Grand Master coming last, mounted on a stately horse, 
 whose furniture was of the simplest kind. Behind 
 him came Brian de Bois-Guilbert, armed cap-a-pie in 
 bright armour, but without his lance, shield, and sword, 
 which were borne by his two esquires behind him. 
 His face, though partly hidden by a long plume which 
 floated down from his barret-cap, looked ghastly pale, 
 as if he had not slept for several nights. Yet he reined 
 his pawing war-horse with the ease and grace proper 
 to the best lance of the Order of the Temple. His 
 general appearance was noble and commanding; but, 
 looking at him with attention, men read that in his 
 dark features from which they willingly withdrew their 
 eyes. 
 
 On either side rode Conrade of Mont-Fitchet and 
 Albert de Malvoisin, who acted as godfathers to the
 
 n8 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 champion. They were in their robes of peace, the 
 white dress of the Order. Behind them followed other 
 Companions of the Temple, with a long train of esquires 
 and pages clad in black, aspirants to the honour of 
 being one day Knights of the Order. After these 
 neophytes came a guard of warders on foot, in the same 
 sable livery, amidst whose partisans might be seen the 
 pale form of the accused, moving with a slow but 
 undismayed step towards the scene of her fate. She 
 was stripped of all her ornaments, lest perchance there 
 should be among them some of those amulets which 
 Satan was supposed to bestow upon his victims, to 
 deprive them of the power of confession even when 
 under the torture. A coarse white dress, of the sim- 
 plest form, had been substituted for her Oriental orna- 
 ments; yet there was such an exquisite mixture of 
 courage and resignation in her look, that even in this 
 garb, and with no other ornament than her long black 
 tresses, each eye wept that looked upon her, and the 
 most hardened bigot regretted her fate. 
 
 This slow procession moved up the gentle eminence 
 on the summit of which was the tilt-yard, and entered 
 the lists. They marched once around them from 
 right to left, and, when they had completed the circle, 
 made a halt. There was then a momentary bustle, 
 while the Grand Master and all his attendants, ex-
 
 REBECCA'S CHAMPION 119 
 
 cepting the champion and his godfathers, dismounted 
 from their horses, which were immediately removed 
 out of the lists by the esquires, who were in attend- 
 ance for that purpose. 
 
 The unfortunate Rebecca was conducted to the 
 black chair placed near the pile. On her first glance 
 at the terrible spot where preparations were making 
 for a death alike dismaying to the mind and painful to 
 the body, she was observed to shudder and shut her 
 eyes, praying internally, doubtless, for her lips moved, 
 though no speech was heard. In the space of a minute 
 she opened her eyes, looked fixedly on the pile as if to 
 familiarise her mind with the object, and then slowly 
 and naturally turned away her head. 
 
 Meanwhile, the Grand Master had assumed his seat, 
 and when the chivalry of his Order was placed around 
 and behind him, each in his due rank, a loud and long 
 flourish of the trumpets announced that the court was 
 seated for judgment. Malvoisin, then, acting as god- 
 father of the champion, stepped forward, and laid the 
 glove of the Jewess, which was the pledge of battle, 
 at the feet of the Grand Master. 
 
 "Valorous lord, and reverend father," said he, 
 "here standeth the good knight, Brian de Bois-Guilbert, 
 Knight Preceptor of the Order of the Temple, who, 
 by accepting the pledge of battle which I now lay at
 
 120 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 your reverence's feet, hath become bound to do his 
 devoir in combat this day, to maintain that this Jewish 
 maiden, by name Rebecca, hath justly deserved the 
 doom passed upon her in a chapter of this most Holy 
 Order of the Temple of Zion, condemning her to die 
 as a sorceress; here, I say, he standeth, such battle 
 to do, knightly and honourable, if such be your noble 
 and sanctified pleasure." 
 
 The Grand Master commanded the herald to stand 
 forth and do his devoir. The trumpets then again 
 flourished, and a herald, stepping forward, proclaimed 
 aloud "Oyez, oyez, oyez. Here standeth the good 
 knight, Sir Brian de Bois-Guilbert, ready to do battle 
 with any knight of free blood who will sustain the 
 quarrel allowed and allotted to the Jewess Rebecca, 
 and to such champion the reverend and valorous 
 Grand Master here present allows a fair field, and 
 equal partition of sun and wind, and whatever else 
 appertains to a fair combat." The trumpets again 
 sounded, and there was a dead pause of many minutes. 
 
 "No champion appears for the appellant," said the 
 Grand Master. "Go, herald, and ask her whether 
 she expects any one to do battle for her in this her 
 cause." The herald went to the chair in which Re- 
 becca was seated, and Bois-Guilbert, suddenly turning 
 his horse's head toward that end of the lists, in spite
 
 REBECCA'S CHAMPION 121 
 
 of hints on either side from Malvoisin and Mont- 
 Fitchet, was by the side of Rebecca's chair as soon as 
 the herald. 
 
 "Is this regular, and according to the law of com- 
 bat?" said Malvoisin, looking to the Grand Master. 
 
 "Albert de Malvoisin, it is," answered Beaumanoir; 
 "for in this appeal to the judgment of God, we may 
 not prohibit parties from having that communication 
 with each other which may best tend to bring forth 
 the truth of the quarrel." 
 
 In the meantime, the herald spoke to Rebecca in 
 these terms: "Damsel, the Honourable and Rev- 
 erend the Grand Master demands of thee, if thou art 
 prepared with a champion to do battle this day in thy 
 behalf, or if thou dost yield thee as one justly con- 
 demned to a deserved doom?" 
 
 "Say to the Grand Master," replied Rebecca, "that 
 I maintain my innocence, and do not yield me as 
 justly condemned lest I become guilty of mine own 
 blood. Say to him that I challenge such delay as his 
 forms will permit, to see if God, whose opportunity 
 is in man's extremity, will raise me up a deliverer; 
 and when such uttermost space is passed, may His 
 holy will be done!" The herald retired to carry this 
 answer to the Grand Master. 
 
 "God forbid," said Lucas Beaumanoir, "that Jew
 
 122 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 or pagan should impeach us of injustice. Until the 
 shadows be cast from the west to the eastward, will 
 we wait to see if a champion shall appear for this 
 unfortunate woman. When the day is so far passed, 
 let her prepare for death." 
 
 The herald communicated the words of the Grand 
 Master to Rebecca, who bowed her head submis- 
 sively, folded her arms, and, looking up towards heaven, 
 seemed to expect that aid from above which she 
 could scarce promise herself from man. During this 
 awful pause, the voice of Bois-Guilbert broke upon 
 her ear it was but a whisper, yet it startled her 
 more than the summons of the herald had appeared 
 to do. 
 
 "Rebecca," said the Templar, "dost thou hear me?" 
 
 "I have no portion in thee, cruel, hard-hearted 
 man," said the unfortunate maiden. 
 
 "Ay, but dost thou understand my words?" said 
 the Templar; "for the sound of my voice is frightful 
 in mine own ears. I scarce know on what ground we 
 stand, or for what purpose they have brought us hither. 
 This listed space that chair these faggots I 
 know their purpose, and yet it appears to me like 
 something unreal the fearful picture of a vision, 
 which appalls my sense with hideous fantasies, but 
 convinces not my reason."
 
 REBECCA'S CHAMPION 123 
 
 "My mind and senses keep touch and time," an- 
 swered Rebecca, "and tell me alike that these faggots 
 are destined to consume my earthly body, and open 
 a painful but a brief passage to a better world." 
 
 "Dreams, Rebecca dreams," answered the Tem- 
 plar ; "idle visions, rejected by the wisdom of your own 
 wiser Sadducees. Hear me, Rebecca," he said, pro- 
 ceeding with animation; "a better chance hast thou 
 for life and liberty than yonder knaves and dotard 
 dream of. Mount thee behind me on my steed on 
 Zamor, the gallant horse that never failed his rider. 
 I won him in single fight from the Soldan of Trebizond 
 mount, I say, behind me in one short hour is 
 pursuit and inquiry far behind a new world of 
 pleasure opens to thee to me a new career of fame. 
 Let them speak the doom which I despise, and erase 
 the name of Bois-Guilbert from their lists of monastic 
 slaves ! I will wash out with blood whatever blot they 
 may dare to cast on my scutcheon." 
 
 "Tempter," said Rebecca, "begone! Not in this 
 last extremity canst thou move me one hair's breadth 
 from my resting place surrounded as I am by foes. 
 I hold thee as my worst and most deadly enemy 
 avoid thee, in the name of God!" 
 
 Albert Malvoisin, alarmed and impatient at the dura- 
 tion of their conference, now advanced to interrupt it.
 
 i2 4 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 ' "Hath the maiden acknowledged her guilt?" he 
 demanded of Bois-Guilbert, "or is she resolute in her 
 denial?" 
 
 "She is indeed resolute," said Bois-Guilbert. 
 
 "Then," said Malvoisin, "must thou, noble brother, 
 resume thy place to attend the issue. The shades are 
 changing on the circle of the dial. Come, brave Bois- 
 Guilbert come, thou hope of our holy Order, and 
 soon to be its head." 
 
 As he spoke in this soothing tone, he laid his hand on 
 the knight's bridle, as if to lead him back to his station. 
 
 "False villain! what meanest thou by thy hand on 
 my rein?" said Sir Brian, angrily. And, shaking off 
 his companion's grasp, he rode back to the upper end 
 of the lists. 
 
 "There is yet spirit in him," said Malvoisin apart 
 to Mont-Fitchet, "were it well directed but, like the 
 Greek fire, it burns whatever approaches it." 
 
 The judges had been now two hours in the lists, 
 awaiting in vain the appearance of a champion. 
 
 It was, however, the general belief that no one could 
 or would appear for a Jewess accused of sorcery ; and 
 the knights, instigated by Malvoisin, whispered to 
 each other that it was time to declare the pledge of 
 Rebecca forfeited. At this instant a knight, urging 
 his horse to speed, appeared on the plain advancing
 
 REBECCA'S CHAMPION 125 
 
 toward the lists. A hundred voices exclaimed, "A 
 champion! a champion!" And, despite the prepos- 
 sessions and prejudices of the multitude, they shouted 
 unanimously as the knight rode into the tilt-yard. 
 The second glance, however, served to destroy the 
 hope that his timely arrival had excited. His horse, 
 urged for many miles to its utmost speed, appeared to 
 reel from fatigue, and the rider, however undauntedly 
 he presented himself in the lists, either from weakness, 
 weariness, or both, seemed scarce able to support 
 himself in the saddle. 
 
 To the summons of the herald who demanded his 
 rank, his name, and purpose, the stranger knight an- 
 swered readily and boldly, "I am a good knight and 
 noble, come hither to sustain with lance and sword the 
 just and lawful quarrel of this damsel, Rebecca, 
 daughter of Isaac of York; to uphold the doom pro- 
 nounced against her to be false and truthless, and to 
 defy Sir Brian de Bois-Guilbert, as a traitor, murderer, 
 and liar; as I will prove in this field with my body 
 against his, by the aid of God, of Our Lady, and of 
 Monseigneur Saint George, the good knight." 
 
 "The stranger must first show," said Malvoisin, 
 "that he is good knight, and of honourable lineage. 
 The Temple sendeth not forth her champions against 
 nameless men."
 
 i 2 6 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 "My name," said the knight, raising his helmet, 
 "is better known, my lineage more pure, Malvoisin, 
 than thine own. I am Wilfred of Ivanhoe." 
 
 "I will not fight with thee at present," said the 
 Templar, in a changed and hollow voice. "Get thy 
 wounds healed, purvey thee a better horse, and it may 
 be I will hold it worth my while to scourge out of thee 
 this boyish spirit of bravado." 
 
 "Ha, proud Templar!" said Ivanhoe; "hast thou 
 forgotten that twice didst thou fall before this lance-? 
 Remember the lists at Acre remember the passage of 
 arms at Ashby remember thy proud vaunt in the 
 halls of Rotherwood, and the gage of your gold chain 
 against my reliquary, that thou wouldst do battle with 
 Wilfred of Ivanhoe, and recover the honour thou hadst 
 lost ! By that reliquary, and the holy relic it contains, 
 I will proclaim thee, Templar, a coward in every court 
 in Europe unless thou do battle without further 
 delay." 
 
 Bois-Guilbert turned his countenance irresolutely 
 towards Rebecca, and then exclaimed, looking fiercely 
 at Ivanhoe, "Dog of a Saxon! take thy lance, and 
 prepare for the death thou hast drawn upon thee!" 
 
 "Does the Grand Master allow me the combat?" 
 said Ivanhoe. 
 
 "I may not deny what thou hast challenged," said
 
 REBECCA'S CHAMPION 127 
 
 the Grand Master, "provided the maiden accepts thee 
 as her champion. Yet I would thou wert in better 
 plight to do battle. An enemy of our Order hast thou 
 ever been, yet would I have thee honourably met with." 
 
 "Thus thus as I am, and not otherwise," said 
 Ivanhoe; "it is the judgment of God to his keeping 
 I commend myself. Rebecca," said he, riding up 
 to the fatal chair, "dost thou accept of me for thy 
 champion?" 
 
 "I do," she said, fluttered by an emotion which the 
 fear of death had been unable to produce, " I do 
 accept thee as the champion whom Heaven hath 
 sent me. Yet, no no thy wounds are uncured. 
 Meet not that proud man why shouldst thou perish 
 also?" 
 
 But Ivanhoe was already at his post, and had closed 
 his visor and assumed his lance. Bois-Guilbert did 
 the same; and his esquire remarked, as he clasped 
 his visor, that his face, which had, notwithstanding 
 the variety of emotions by which he had been agitated, 
 continued during the whole morning of an ashy paleness, 
 was now become suddenly very much flushed. 
 
 Then the herald, seeing each champion in his place, 
 uplifted his voice, repeating thrice "Faites vos de- 
 voirs, preux chevaliers!" After the third cry he with- 
 drew to one side of the lists, and again proclaimed that
 
 128 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 none, on peril of instant death, should dare, by word, 
 cry, or action, to interfere with or disturb this fair field 
 of combat. The Grand Master, who held in his 
 hand the gage of battle, Rebecca's glove, now threw it 
 into the lists, and pronounced the fatal signal words, 
 " Laissez otter" 
 
 The trumpets sounded, and the knights charged 
 each other in full career. The wearied horse of 
 Ivanhoe, and its no less exhausted rider, went down, 
 as all had expected, before the well-aimed lance and 
 vigorous steed of the Templar. This issue of the com- 
 bat all had foreseen ; but although the spear of Ivanhoe 
 did but, in comparison, touch the shield of Bois- 
 Guilbert, that champion, to the astonishment of all 
 who beheld it, reeled in his saddle, lost his stirrups, 
 and fell in the lists. 
 
 Ivanhoe, extricating himself from his fallen horse, 
 was soon on foot, hastening to mend his fortune with 
 his sword; but his antagonist arose not. Wilfred, 
 placing his foot on his breast, and the sword's point 
 to his throat, commanded him to yield him, or die on 
 the spot. Bois-Guilbert returned no answer. 
 
 "Slay him not, Sir Knight," cried the Grand Master, 
 "unshriven and unabsolved kill not body and soul! 
 We allow him vanquished." 
 
 He descended into the lists, and commanded them
 
 CONCLUSION 129 
 
 to unhelm the conquered champion. His eyes were 
 closed, the dark red flush was still on his brow. 
 As they looked on him in astonishment, the eyes opened 
 but they were fixed and glazed. The flush passed 
 from his brow, and gave way to the pallid hue of death. 
 Unscathed by the lance of his enemy, he had died 
 a victim to the violence of his own contending passions. 
 
 "This is indeed the judgment of God," said the 
 Grand Master, looking upwards "Thy will be done 1 " 
 
 ****** * 
 
 III. CONCLUSION 
 
 Meanwhile King Richard had had an opportunity 
 of testing the value of Robin Hood's gift. With his 
 usual carelessness he had ridden away towards the city 
 of York, sure that the rebellion of his ungrateful brother 
 John could not stand for a moment before his presence. 
 
 But on the way he fell into a trap. The traitor 
 Fitzurse and his men-at-arms beset him in the woods, 
 crying, "Death to the tyrant!" The King, as ever, 
 fought splendidly, striking down an opponent at each 
 single uplift of the axe. But a knight in blue armour 
 charged from behind, and wounded the royal charger, 
 bringing the King to the ground. 
 
 "A felon stroke!" cried Richard, springing nimbly 
 to his feet, and drawing his sword to defend himself,
 
 I 3 o RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 his back to a great oak. Wamba, who alone had 
 accompanied him on his journey, now got possession 
 of Locksley's hunting-horn and, without more ado, 
 blew most lustily upon it the prearranged call for 
 assistance. The outlaws heard it, and came rushing 
 to the King's assistance. So stoutly did they fight 
 that very soon the traitors fled, and their leader Fitzurse 
 was left alone on the field to answer for his treachery. 
 
 After this failure the rebellion melted away. Prince 
 John came posting from York, whimpering at the knees 
 of the brother whom he had wronged. Yet all that 
 Richard said to him was only, "Go to thy mother, boy. 
 Thou seest that I have some angry men with me who 
 might do thee a hurt!" 
 
 So by Cedric's permission and with his approval, 
 Ivanhoe wedded the fair Saxon Princess Rowena, in 
 the minster of York, Gurth acting as his squire, and 
 Wamba jesting gaily as became the occasion, in a 
 brand-new set of cap-and-bells with motley to suit. 
 
 One morning soon after, while Rowena was still in 
 her chamber, a handmaiden brought word that there 
 was a damsel below who desired to speak with her. 
 She was accordingly brought up, and as soon as Eligitha, 
 the handmaiden, had been ordered to withdraw, she 
 fell on one knee and kissed the hem of Rowena's tunic. 
 
 "What is the meaning of this homage to me?" said
 
 CONCLUSION 131 
 
 the princess. Rebecca the Jewess rose to her feet and, 
 throwing back her veil, she answered, " Because to you, 
 Lady of Ivanhoe, I may lawfully pay the debt of 
 gratitude I owe to Wilfred your husband. I am the 
 unhappy Jewess whom he saved from a fearful death in 
 the tilting yard of Templestowe." 
 
 "Damsel," said Rowena, "Wilfred of Ivanhoe but 
 rendered back in a slight measure your great kindness 
 towards him in his wounds and misfortunes." 
 
 Rebecca then asked Rowena to accept a little silver 
 casket with its contents as a marriage gift. The prin- 
 cess, opening it, found therein a magnificent necklace of 
 diamonds. At first she would not accept so valuable 
 a gift. But Rebecca besought her, saying, "Let it be 
 seen that you judge not so harshly of our nation, as is 
 the common report of you. Think not that I prize 
 such sparkling stones above my liberty, or my father 
 above the honour of his child. Accept them, lady ! 
 To me they are valueless. I shall never wear jewels 
 again ! " 
 
 "You are, then, leaving England?" asked the 
 princess. 
 
 "We go to place ourselves in the Kingdom of Gra- 
 nada, where my father's brother is high in the councils 
 of King Boabadil. There we shall have peace and 
 protection, whilst I I shall devote myself to the good
 
 i 3 2 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 work of tending the sick and needy, as is the fate of 
 our maidens who die unwedded. Tell this to your 
 lord, if by chance he should ever inquire after the fate 
 of her whose life he saved." 
 
 Afterwards Wilfred of Ivanhoe became a great lord 
 in the service of Richard of the Lion Heart, and he 
 and Rowena lived a long life happily together. But 
 he never forgot Rebecca, the beautiful Jewess who had 
 nursed him in the dungeons of Torquilstone, and for 
 whom, still weak with sickness, he had laid lance in 
 rest in a last forlorn hope within the lists of Temple- 
 stowe. 
 
 The close of the Last Tale from Ivanhoe was 
 greeted with few of the signs of favour which had wel- 
 comed the Siege of Torquilstone, the Gentle Passage 
 of Arms at Ashby, and the Famous Shooting of Cleave- 
 the-wand. As always, young and old of my audience 
 preferred the End Sentimental to the End Profit- 
 able. 
 
 "Um-m-m-m!" said Hugh John, elevating his nose 
 in the air, "just like a hero lay about sick all the 
 time and then, when he had a ripping chance at last, 
 instead of whacking the Templar over the head and
 
 CONCLUSION 133 
 
 killing him good, he let him die 'a victim to his con- 
 tending passions' whatever that may be." 
 
 "Why, Athelstane did better than that," said Sir 
 Toady Lion; "he fought like a lion and went down 
 cloven to the teeth " 
 
 "Oh, but, father, Sir Walter says that Athelstane " 
 began Sweetheart, who had been reading the book "on 
 the sly," as the boys said so as to be "bucked up 
 and horrid superior, pretending to know more than 
 we do !" 
 
 Rather more briskly than I ought, perhaps, I told 
 Sweetheart to hold her tongue. Athelstane was a 
 tabooed subject. You had to read the book, and find 
 out about him. 
 
 Indeed I had not dared to retail the too marvellous 
 resurrection of the brawny Saxon. I knew it would 
 not be well received by the Butcher Donnan, who was 
 accustomed to make a clean job of his own little affairs, 
 and would have despised the Templar forever after if 
 his weapon had turned in his hand. 
 
 "That Ivan How," said Mr. Donnan, rubbing his 
 solidly moulded, well-scraped chin with his fore-finger, 
 thoughtfully, "that there Ivan How. He done his 
 best at the fightin', and I don't say he wasn't right to 
 marry one of his own sort. Quality will to quality 
 that's right enough "
 
 i 3 4 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 He paused a moment, and then burst out with strong 
 emphasis 
 
 "But if it had been ME!" 
 
 And that, after all, is the general, the almost universal, 
 verdict. Time and a myriad of readers have reversed 
 the verdict upon appeal. And if we had our way 
 which it is well that we have not Rowena would have 
 wedded her fitting mate, that other dull descendant of 
 Alfred while Rebecca, the Jewess, baptized and 
 ennobled, would have held Ivanhoe's hand in the minster 
 of York. 
 
 "It is such a pity!" said Sweetheart, summing up 
 the situation with a long-drawn sigh. 
 
 And there was no more to be said. 
 
 THE END OF THE RED CAP TALES FROM "iVANHOE
 
 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 TOLD FROM 
 
 THE FORTUNES OF NIGEL
 
 II 
 
 THE FORTUNES OF NIGEL 
 
 BY this time I felt that the stories from Sir Walter 
 ought to be beginning to bear their fruit. For more 
 than a year, at intervals determined by school vacations, 
 and the ardour of youth to display itself in field sports, 
 I had been laboriously retelling the great tales. 
 
 From my audience I had indeed received the most 
 flattering signs of success. But had they read Scott 
 the more ? Well, Sweetheart had though the boys 
 cast it in her teeth on numberless occasions that she 
 only read on ahead, so as to be able to show, by various 
 nods and becks and wreathed smiles, that she was "in 
 the know." 
 
 But boys ours at any rate will say anything, 
 if by saying it they can annoy their sisters. Of course, 
 they are singular in this, different from other boys. 
 Only, you see, the thing is for girls not to be annoyed, 
 and this Sweetheart had learned at school. 
 
 She had gone there with the most philanthropic ideas 
 of being kind to every one, of having all and sundry be 
 
 '37
 
 138 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 kind to her, and she had come away with a very good 
 notion of keeping things square by giving as good as 
 she got an imperfect method for Christian martyrs, 
 but rather practical, as against two such aggressive 
 brothers as Hugh John and Sir Toady Lion. Maid 
 Margaret, who looked so sweet (and sometimes even 
 said "please"), needed no school to teach her. She 
 used her natural weapons, especially those fitted with 
 neat round-toed boots, with great effect against the 
 enemy. She had not yet got as far as "Christian 
 Martyrs" in her history book. 
 
 One wet afternoon the children were in the library. 
 The boys, as usual, were prone on the floor, poring 
 over the sets of Graphics and the Illustrated London 
 News which is their idea of what a library should 
 contain. Sweetheart was curled up on a sofa, eating 
 an orange, reading and gazing out at the window all 
 at one and the same time or so at least it appeared 
 to me. 
 
 Maid Margaret unaffectedly yawned, and drummed 
 on the rain-battered library panes with her fingers. 
 It seemed a propitious moment for me to make my 
 proposal. 
 
 "See, here," I said, "I suppose you are all fearfully 
 rich?" 
 
 I had reason to know the contrary, owing to the recent
 
 THE FORTUNES OF NIGEL 139 
 
 plague of birthdays which always rages under the July 
 dog-star. 
 
 "No !" they chorussed, the boys springing up from 
 their prone position to do it. "We are just fearful 
 poor!" 
 
 The adjective was not a proper one, used adverb- 
 ially, but was allowed to pass under the circumstances. 
 
 "Do any of you want to earn money?" 
 
 "Just don't we ? Tell us how, that's all !" 
 
 A more suddenly industrious, but rather unthrifty, 
 family, you could not have seen without going miles. 
 
 "Well," I said, "see here; each of you can take a 
 book of Sir Walter's any one you like ; read it, and 
 tell the story to the others in your own fashion!" 
 
 I could see the faces of the boys swiftly darken, while 
 Sweetheart's lighted up with a great and sudden joy. 
 As for Maid Margaret, she resumed her drumming on 
 the window-pane like one who has neither art nor part 
 in these things. 
 
 But even for her, there arose a light in the gloom of 
 hopes (financial) deferred. 
 
 "Can I have Ellie to read the book and then me 
 tell it?" she inquired. 
 
 This the boys considered "not fair." Their objec- 
 tion was however overruled on the ground of age. 
 Maid Margaret was only beginning to struggle with
 
 i 4 o RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 words of two syllables, and the handicap would have 
 been quite too great, thus to compel her to read the 
 whole for herself. 
 
 "If," said I, laying down the Code Napoleon of the 
 affair, "you tell such a story as the others will listen to, 
 half an hour in length, I'll give you a prize like the 
 others!" 
 
 "To do what I like with?" 
 
 "Certainly!" 
 
 "Snacks!" cried the boys, simultaneously; "I bag 
 Ivanhoe'l" 
 
 "Won't do," said Sweetheart; "why, you've only 
 just been told that story, and you have been playing it 
 for weeks, along with Nipper Donnan and the other 
 boys of Edam." 
 
 " Certainly ; you must take one of the Waverley novels 
 which has not been told before, read it, make one or 
 more stories out of it and I will give them one golden 
 sovereign for each that is good enough to print!" 
 
 "Oh !" said Sir Toady Lion, "but that's not fair 
 you get more than that !" 
 
 "Yes, sir," I said sharply; "but there's your food 
 and clothing and schooling to pay for, young gentle- 
 man besides one or two other things which, if lucky, 
 you will find out in due time for yourself !" 
 
 The reply silenced, but, I fear, failed to convince
 
 THE FORTUNES OF NIGEL 141 
 
 as is so often the case when the arguments of experience 
 are supplied to youth. 
 
 Still, as the family went to sleep that night, there 
 shone before the eyes of each member a book written 
 by a certain Walter Scott, and in the centre, instead of 
 the well-known lineaments of the author of Waverley, 
 the image and ^superscription of H. M. Edward VII, 
 done in pure minted gold, and surrounded with an 
 aureole ! 
 
 Yet his present Gracious Majesty did not write the 
 Waverley novels ! 
 
 It was with a particularly peaceful smile that Sweet- 
 heart stole away to bed that night. She had visited 
 the shelf of "Scotts," and carried off one, quite obvi- 
 ously secreted about her person. Of course the boys 
 had first to quarrel about first choice, pillow-fight it 
 out in the privacy of their chamber, and then start in 
 a good day. after the fair. As for Maid Margaret, 
 what she was going to do, rested a profound secret 
 so profound indeed that she did not know herself. 
 She, however, took council with a certain domestic 
 good genius, who, after stopping the pillow-fight and 
 seeing that "all was quiet along the Potomac," stopped 
 before the Waverley shelf, and regarded the volumes
 
 142 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 with the same grave attention she is wont to bestow 
 upon a sermon by her favourite preacher. 
 What she took away will afterwards be manifest. 
 
 It was of course a foregone conclusion that long before 
 the others were halfway through their chosen book 
 even by the aid of vigorous skipping, Sweetheart was 
 ready with her narrative. 
 
 Hugh John and Sir Toady Lion reclaimed a superior 
 price for their articles "because she's always telling us 
 stories." Therefore, according to them it would come 
 easier. 
 
 However, I declined to penalise Sweetheart for her 
 goodness to the very ingrates who now lodged the 
 complaint. 
 
 Sweetheart, a little eager about the eyes, but other- 
 wise calm, clasped her hand about one knee and was 
 ready to begin. For me, I had a notebook in one 
 hand, a pencil in the other while the audience, pic- 
 turesquely disposed about the carpet, prepared itself 
 to listen to the narrative in a purposely fatigued man- 
 ner. You see there were others to come after in a 
 future more or less remote, and these were not pre- 
 cisely the sort of young men to depreciate the value of 
 their own merchandise. 
 
 Sweetheart began in the easy conversational tone of
 
 THE FORTUNES OF NIGEL 143 
 
 the practised tale-teller. The first Golden Edward 
 was as good as her own already perhaps others 
 similarly minted, a regular royal procession of milled 
 sovereigns. 
 
 "Go on, Sis!" said Hugh John; "and mind, if we 
 don't like it, we have got the right to say so !" 
 
 "No, only father has!" said Sweetheart, unsweetly; 
 "you mind your own business!" 
 
 "Say 'please'!" added Maid Margaret, who had 
 so often been caught out for forgetting, that she now 
 went about catching other sinners by omission. 
 
 "Go on, Sweetheart," I said; "don't mind any of 
 them they will be sorry when you get your pay !" 
 
 "Oh, no, 7 won't!" called out Sir Toady, who was 
 finishing a sketch of a weasel and a crow disputing 
 rights to a dead rabbit. This was such unwonted and 
 surprising magnanimity, that I asked the youth why he 
 would not grudge his sister her golden sovereign. 
 
 "Because," he said, as he put in the shading with 
 care, "my birthday comes next!" 
 
 "Well," said Sweetheart, "what I am going to tell 
 you about is 
 
 THE FORTUNES or NIGEL." 
 
 And accordingly, following my notebook, this is 
 something like the way she told it.
 
 144 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 THE FIRST TALE FROM "THE FORTUNES OF 
 
 NIGEL" 
 
 MASTER AND MAN 
 
 IT was in the time after King James VI of Scot- 
 land had become King James I of England. Many 
 Scots went to London to seek their fortune, and some 
 were good, and some were middling, and some were 
 bad. Yes, they were; you need not deny it, boys. 
 But nearly all of them had long swords, and the tick- 
 lish honour which was ready to make the long swords 
 spring out of the battered scabbards. They were all 
 kinsfolk, too, or so at least they said. And so, partly 
 because they were poor and partly because they let 
 nothing stand in the way of their advancement in 
 the world, the Londoners, and especially those who 
 served the court, heartily detested them. 
 
 Now there was a fine handsome young Scottish lord 
 who came to London also on his business. His name 
 was Lord Glenvarloch. He was tall and brave, but 
 very poor, though the King owed him money which he 
 would not pay. 
 
 (I could hear the low growl of the boys, which said 
 very plainly that the beginning was a well-known one. 
 I enjoined silence with a threatening gesture of the 
 hand.)
 
 MASTER AND MAN 145 
 
 And so (continued Sweetheart, catching fire at the 
 thought of good-looking misfortune) this young lord 
 had to live in a mean street by the water-side near 
 Old Saint Paul's not the one you have seen which 
 was built by Christopher Wren 
 
 "Oh, yes," said the boys, "we know old Circum- 
 spice! Besides, we have been right to the top of the 
 dome, while you stopped at the Whispering Gallery! 
 Much you know about history!" 
 
 The name of the landlord of the lodgings was John 
 Christie, a ship-chandler, and he had a wife Nelly, 
 twenty years younger than himself (which, said Sweet- 
 heart, in a lower tone, ought not to be allowed). Now 
 Nelly liked the young Scots lord. She was kind to 
 him and gave him nice things to eat. 
 
 ["What sort of things?" asked the boys, together. 
 It was a question that touched them nearly. 
 
 "Oh, powdered beef, and carrots, and greens!" 
 answered Sweetheart, easily. 
 
 "No puddings?" 
 
 "I dare say!" said Sweetheart. 
 
 "Oh," said Sir Toady Lion, "you're no good. All 
 you care about is who this lord-fellow made love to !" 
 
 I quenched these interrupters sternly, promising, 
 together with other immediate penalties, that they 
 should not even get the chance of earning a golden
 
 146 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 Edward, if they did not let Sweetheart tell her story in 
 her own way.] 
 
 Well (she went on), Lord Glenvarloch had a servant, 
 Richard Monyplies, who had followed him for a good 
 deal of love and very little wages, in order that he might 
 help him to present his suit to the King. 
 
 But it was a hard time for creditors of royalty, and 
 perhaps the young Lord Glenvarloch was too modest. 
 He did not care to force himself among the crowd of 
 bullies and favourites that filled up all the doors of the 
 court. His petitions were tossed aside by secretaries. 
 He had never even spoken to the King, and as a last 
 resort he had sent his servant, Richard Monyplies, to 
 get a chance of presenting his request to the King. 
 
 ["Shy!" said Sir Toady Lion, scornfully. "7 
 shouldn't have been shy. He hadn't been at our school, 
 or he would have learned different!" 
 
 " Be quiet ! " said Hugh John, giving his brother a 
 touch with the toe of his boot to remind him that little 
 boys should be seen and not heard.] 
 
 At any rate (continued Sweetheart), this Richard 
 Monyplies went from Mistress Nelly Christie's lodg- 
 ings along by the rows of booths and shops which is 
 now called Fleet Street and the Strand
 
 RICHARD MONYPLIES WENT ALONG FLEET STREET.'
 
 MASTER AND MAN 147 
 
 ["They sell stamps there ! Oh, yes, and field 
 glasses I've been there I've been there!"] 
 
 So they did in the time Richard Monyplies went 
 along at least glasses I don't know about stamps. 
 The book does not say so. Only the shops were all 
 open in front just like booths at a fair, with all the 
 things laid out and 'prentices to call out, "What d'ye 
 lack?" "What d'ye lack?" to the passers-by. 
 
 Now there was one of these booths with two 'prentices 
 in it, both busy calling out to passengers the watches 
 and spectacles that their master David Ramsay had 
 made. The name of one 'prentice, a curly-headed, 
 stout lad, was Jin Vin, or Jenkin Vincent, while the 
 other, taller and quieter, was named Tunstall. The 
 booth was quite near Temple Bar, where the griffon now 
 stands on his tail, but it was a proper bar then, with 
 men's heads stuck along the top ! 
 
 [Here the boys looked interested, and began to think 
 that Sweetheart was really going to deserve well of 
 her gold sovereign. They demanded what these men 
 had done, to have their heads thus summarily removed. 
 
 "Oh, committed treason, or been wiser than the 
 King or something ! " said Sweetheart, who did not 
 care about this part ; "at any rate, it does not come into 
 the story."] 
 
 But (she went on) David Ramsay, the watchmaker,
 
 i 4 8 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 was an old, rather crabbed, musty-fusty old fellow, 
 who was always doing mental arithmetic in his head 
 sums about the making of watches no, they were 
 not all made in factories then one man made a whole 
 watch. Clever of him, wasn't it, but, I dare say, rather 
 trying to the temper ! Well, David Ramsay of Temple 
 Bar had his house just behind his shop, and he had one 
 lovely young daughter, as sweet-tempered and good as 
 she could be, in addition to her prettiness. Crusty old 
 fathers often have! 
 
 ["Our father isn't never crusty!" said Sir Toady 
 Lion, seeing a chance of getting even without danger; 
 "perhaps that's the reason he hasn't got 'one lovely' - 
 
 "Shut up, Toad!" said Hugh John, who, in these 
 latter years, has somewhat broken the bonds of fraternal 
 contempt, and become a sincere admirer of his elder 
 sister as adding considerably to the attractiveness of 
 a house in the eyes of his friends, not to mention girl 
 friends who come to help play games.] 
 
 Now, this Richard Monyplies was just like you boys, 
 only he was grown up always ruffling his feathers, 
 squaring his elbows, and wanting to fight somebody. 
 He was a butcher's son and had no money in his pock- 
 ets just only his father's old "Andrea Ferrara" 
 sword by his side ! 
 
 Well, down the Fleet he went, gaping at the shops,
 
 MASTER AND MAN 149 
 
 gazing at old Adam and Eve playing their ding-dong 
 on the steeple of St. Dimstan's church, his blue bonnet 
 with the feather in it cocked to the side, his grey eyes, 
 his yellow hair, and the sword with a ton of iron in 
 the handle 
 
 [Oh, come, Sis !" said Hugh John, who is a stickler 
 for exactitude.] 
 
 Well, so it is written in the book. Jin Vin said so, 
 but then he was like you boys when you are telling of 
 your wonderful feats perhaps it was not quite a ton. 
 And this Ritchie had a threadbare cloak and stepped 
 out like a Frenchman (which was to say at that time, 
 he strutted). He was long in the face like a Spaniard. 
 He had a book at his girdle on the one side, and a broad 
 dagger at the other. Such was Ritchie Monyplies, and 
 perhaps it was no wonder that the 'prentices laughed. 
 
 Still, they knew that it was ill carrying the jest too 
 far. 
 
 Jin Vin tried his hand, for he remembered the prov- 
 erb that the English had made against the Scots who 
 had followed their King to the south : 
 
 "In Scotland he was born and bred, 
 And though a beggar, must be fed I " 
 
 So he invited Ritchie to buy a watch that he might 
 count the hours of plenty since he had left Berwick
 
 150 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 town, a pair of spectacles to see the English gold that 
 lay ready for his grip. "Or buy physic for a proud 
 stomach," cried Jin Vin; "there is a 'pothecary's on 
 t'other side of the way." 
 
 So they teased him. But Ritchie Monyplies halted 
 only a moment to look at his tormentors ; then, tossing 
 his head scornfully, he went on his way. 
 
 But there were others worse than Jin Vin and his 
 comrade. A little along Fleet Street Ritchie knocked 
 a crockery-seller who had insulted him over among his 
 stock in trade. Instantly the cry of "'Prentices!" 
 " 'Prentices ! " " Clubs ! " " Clubs ! " arose. Jin Vin 
 and Tunstall snatched each his weapon and ran out 
 to join the fray, leaving the shop in the care of their 
 master, who came out growling at being disturbed. 
 
 And if it had not been for these two, there might well 
 have been murder done on poor Ritchie Monyplies. 
 As it was, they rescued him with only a broken head, 
 and brought him back to their master's house by Temple 
 Bar, where at first, to tell the truth, the master received 
 him none too cordially. Here he was set down in a 
 great chair, and, after recovering himself a little, was 
 called upon to explain himself to David Ramsay and 
 his guest, a certain Master George, a city merchant of 
 great wealth and standing about the court. 
 
 His name, he said, was Richard Monyplies. He was
 
 MASTER AND MAN 151 
 
 of noble descent, son of the noble house of Monyplies 
 of Castle Collop, in the West Port of Edinburgh. 
 
 "And pray what do you call a Port?" demanded 
 Master George. 
 
 "Oh, a kind of gate," said the Scot; "like those of 
 Whitehall yonder, but more noble and with more 
 trimmings of architecture!" 
 
 "But, sirrah," cried Master George, "you do not 
 mean to compare the gate of Edinburgh with the royal 
 Gates of Whitehall, which were planned by the great 
 Holbein himself, any more than you would dare to say 
 that there is at Edinburgh a wide, navigable river like 
 the Thames, crowded with shipping!" 
 
 "Ay, but wad I no !" cried the Scot; "as if London 
 and the Thames were for one moment to be compared 
 to Edinburgh, where we have not only the Water o' 
 Leith, but the Nor' Loch as well!" 
 
 "Ay, fause loon," cried Master George, suddenly 
 speaking in the broad Scots accent, "and the Pow 
 Burn, and the Quarry Holes, and the Gusedubs ! 
 More than that, I believe you are a son of old Mungo 
 Monyplies, who was a flesher in the West Port, an 
 honest man, and a deacon in his trade. I am sorry to 
 see his son here with so poor a coat !" 
 
 "Indifferent," said Ritchie, glancing at his cloak, 
 which had been torn in the fray on the street, when a
 
 i 5 2 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 left-handed lighterman had given him a knock while 
 Jin Vin and his comrade were engaged in saving him, 
 "indifferent, sir. But more is the pity that it is now 
 the ordinary livery of honest burghers' sons. There is 
 a fine crop of oats in the Grassmarket, and where my 
 father's booth stood you will find as much grass as 
 would feed all the cattle he ever killed. The King's 
 going to England has taken away all custom from the 
 poor town of Edinburgh." 
 
 "True," said Master George ; "it ought to be thought 
 upon, Master Ramsay, that while we make fortunes 
 here, there are those left behind us in the Guid Toon 
 who are hard put to it for daily bread." 
 
 Now Master George was no other than Master 
 George Heriot, the rich goldsmith of the King which 
 in those days also meant banker. The greatness of 
 his wealth made him a natural head for the Scots colony 
 in London, but he was a man of great and varied benevo- 
 lence as well. His kindness to his poor countrymen, 
 together with his position at court, and the familiar 
 talks he had with the King, made him a man looked 
 up to by everybody. 
 
 Master George asked if Ritchie Monyplies had any 
 other master except "Dame Want," as the Scot had 
 reported of himself. 
 
 "I am the servant of young Lord Glenvarloch," said
 
 MASTER AND MAN 153 
 
 Ritchie; "yes, in spite of my coat all the follower 
 he is likely to have!" 
 
 "I have seen his father," said George Heriot, "with 
 four gentlemen and the lackeys, all rustling in laces 
 and velvets at his heels a changeful world a 
 changeful world !" 
 
 "Ah," cried Richard Monyplies, that his master 
 might not be shamed before these London 'prentices, 
 "my master is in no more than present need a slight 
 pinch, nothing worse. He has money in the Royal 
 Treasury for the asking ! Which is to say," he whis- 
 pered to Master George, "that the King owes him a 
 heap of money, and it will be somewhat hard to come 
 by, I fear!" 
 
 The jeweller looked as if he believed in this thor- 
 oughly, having doubtless had his own experiences. 
 Then he asked further concerning young Lord Glen- 
 varloch, where his lodging was, and what it was that 
 he wanted from the King. Ritchie, however, either 
 could not or would not give him any but the vaguest 
 direction. 
 
 "Pie has left his lordship behind him," he said, 
 "and now, under the family name of Nigel Olifaunt, 
 he lodges in a Wynd by the waterside, with a ship- 
 chandler, one of the name of John Christie." 
 
 However, because of the love he had borne the elder
 
 154 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 Lord Glenvarloch, George Heriot promised himself to 
 find out his son's dwelling. He did not say that he 
 meant to do all that he could to further his cause with 
 the King, because he knew at the same time that King 
 James, so familiar and so kindly generally, became 
 quite otherwise when it was a question of the payment 
 of money. 
 
 [The boys had grown restless with all these prelimi- 
 naries. 
 
 "It's nearly as bad as having to read the book!" 
 they said. "Get on, Sis!" 
 
 "It's not so easy as you would think," said Sweet- 
 heart; "you will find out when your turn comes."] 
 
 But at any rate, the next morning, after spending his 
 night in a graveyard with his sword ready in his hand 
 to keep him from midnight thieves and evil characters 
 of all kinds, Ritchie Monyplies arrived belated at his 
 master's lodgings, just when young Nigel Olifaunt was 
 on the point of going out to lay a complaint of his 
 servant's disappearance with the nearest sitting justice. 
 
 He had recovered somewhat from his crack on the 
 head, having, as he said, been reared in the West Port, 
 with a head that was more like to break a stick than a 
 stick to break it. 
 
 But he had a sorrowful tale to tell of his reception at 
 court. He had carried his master's supplication
 
 MASTER AND MAN 155 
 
 he called it "sifflication" to Whitehall. He had been 
 able to wait for the King's mounting his mare to go 
 to the hunting, by the interest of one Linklater, a 
 scullion in the royal kitchen. 
 
 But when the King appeared, he was surrounded by 
 his lords, and Ritchie had to elbow his way through 
 as best he could, much in the same way indeed as Jin 
 Vin had done through the Fleet Street crowd. The 
 people he pushed out of his way did not love him the 
 better for it, and still more when they saw his appear- 
 ance of, as they said, "a hungry Scot." 
 
 As Ritchie attempted a bow, the King's mare be- 
 came startled. His Majesty, who sat a horse "no 
 better than a draff-sack," swerved and came near to 
 being thrown. He tossed the supplication among his 
 horse's feet, and bade them seize the rascal who brought 
 it. There was talk of hanging. There was talk 
 of scourging. But finally King James, hearing the 
 loud cries for mercy raised by Ritchie for the purpose 
 of reaching his ear, recognised a countryman and 
 called to let him off, to give him a copy of the procla- 
 mation, and "send him down to the North again by 
 the first light collier!" 
 
 When Master George Heriot presented himself the 
 next day at the lodging of the young lord, he found 
 Nigel at first a little more than haughty. He feared
 
 156 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 to be made a show of in his poverty, but the kindness 
 of the great merchant, his respectfulness even, his 
 genial humour, softened Lord Glenvarloch, and he 
 finished by telling all his tale to George Heriot. 
 
 The King's jeweller and banker could hardly believe 
 his ears. He knew it was impossible that the King, if 
 he had rightly understood what was asked, could have 
 thus treated the son of his former chancellor and the 
 wisest man in his kingdom, one also who had lent him 
 great sums of money when he stood sorely in need of 
 them. 
 
 But the worst was that the Glenvarloch estates stood 
 in danger of being lost for a sum only a tenth of their 
 value, because of a wadset or mortgage held by one 
 Peterson of Campvere according to George Heriot 
 a mere cover for the Lord Chancellor of Scotland, who 
 had a mind to secure them for himself! The King's 
 jeweller at once declared that the proclamation could 
 never have been meant for the son of a great Scots 
 lord. Either the messenger must have been unsuit- 
 able, or something must have been added to the pe- 
 tition. 
 
 He asked for Nigel's permission to call up Ritchie 
 Monyplies, and to put a few questions to him. The 
 serving-man appeared, evidently called from dinner, 
 and in a few moments George Heriot had made him
 
 MASTER AND MAN 157 
 
 confess that he had "slipped in a bit note" of a debt 
 due to his father, the West Port butcher, long ago by 
 the King's mother, "when about a certain Christmas 
 time she supped with the Earl of Bothwell ! " 
 
 Here at once was the explanation. The King would 
 not like to be reminded of the mother whom he had 
 left to be executed in the same kingdom over which 
 he at present ruled. More than that, the name of the 
 Earl of Bothwell, his mother's last husband, springing 
 to his eye in Ritchie Monyplies, "sifflication," would 
 be as a red rag to a bull. 
 
 No wonder, also, that King James, always afraid of 
 assassination, had ordered Ritchie out of his presence. 
 But as for the petition of Nigel Olifaunt, the young 
 Lord of Glenvarloch, Heriot did not believe that the 
 King had ever seen it. He offered, before leaving, to 
 have it properly engrossed, and to place it in the hands 
 of the King himself on an early occasion, which occa- 
 sion he would take care to make a favourable one. 
 
 Lastly, he suggested that (as the custom was in these 
 times), since he was not only a jeweller but a money- 
 lender, if Nigel were in need of a hundred pounds or 
 so to put himself in good trim for going to court, the 
 money was at his disposition, at a suitable interest. 
 He could repay it when his affairs were in better con- 
 dition.
 
 158 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 "But," said Nigel, "I do not know that they will 
 ever be." 
 
 "Let me take the risk of that," said the goldsmith ; 
 "if they should not, the loss of the money will be noth- 
 ing in comparison with other griefs that I shall have !" 
 
 Before taking leave, George Heriot told Nigel that 
 the King was a man naturally anxious to be just, but 
 that he was surrounded by those who wished to keep 
 all things for their own advantage. Still he thought 
 that the King only needed to be properly approached 
 to carry out the just demands of the son of his former 
 statesman. And as for himself, he believed that he 
 saw his way through the business. 
 
 As he went downstairs he spoke to Nigel's landlady, 
 telling her to see to it that the young lord wanted for 
 nothing, and to let him know in case of any need. 
 Mistress Nelly replied that she would look to the latter 
 herself, and not only so, but she would step as far as 
 Lombard Street to let his Honour know how matters 
 passed. 
 
 The old goldsmith, however, was strict on discipline. 
 He did not wish his premises cluttered up with pretty 
 young wives, so he said a little severely, "Let your 
 husband come. He is an honest man and punctual 
 to the minute, as I have found in my dealings with 
 him."
 
 MASTER AND MAN 159 
 
 "Precise old Scotch tinsmith!" murmured pretty 
 Mistress Nelly, stamping her foot in a quickly passing 
 anger as Master George Heriot went down the steps 
 to his coach. 
 
 With the young lord's suit on his mind, and perhaps 
 some of his own business also, Master George went on 
 to see the King at Whitehall. On his way he stopped 
 at the booth of a writer (or scrivener, as the lawyers 
 who merely engrossed were called). Here he had the 
 supplication properly copied on behalf of Lord Nigel. 
 
 It was as easy a matter for George Heriot, the wealthy 
 goldsmith and banker, to gain entrance to the royal 
 closet as it had been difficult for Lord Glenvarloch's 
 messenger. The usher merely nodded his head in the 
 direction of the King's chamber, and in a minute George 
 Heriot found himself before the King. He did not look 
 every inch a King. Indeed no inch of him did. 
 
 His dress was quilted thick to prevent the danger of 
 dagger-stroke. It was buttoned all awry as if put on 
 in a hurry. 
 
 [Here Maid Margaret looked at Sir Toady Lion to 
 intimate that she knew Somebody who would have 
 made him button it properly.] 
 
 There were fine pictures and rich jewels all about,
 
 160 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 on the walls and on the floor. But dust lay everywhere, 
 thick upon the pictures, and even on the kingly high- 
 crowned hat which lay upon the floor with a carcanet 
 of balas rubies gleaming duskily about it. 
 
 "Hey, Jingling Geordie," cried the King, "what new 
 clatter-traps have you brought with you, to cheat your 
 lawful and native prince out of his siller?" 
 
 "God forbid," said Heriot, "that I should have any 
 such disloyal purpose. I was only unwilling to let 
 the piece of plate which I have with me pass into the 
 hands of a subject without bringing it first to your 
 Majesty's notice." 
 
 It was an ancient salver, by Benvenuto Cellini 
 wrought with the judgment of Solomon, a subject 
 which pleased the King greatly. More so, indeed, than 
 did the price, which was a hundred and fifty pounds. 
 
 However, after haggling awhile, the King ordered 
 the piece to be taken away and set where Baby Charles 
 and "Steenie" would see it on their return from Rich- 
 mond, meaning his son and his favourite the Duke of 
 Buckingham. 
 
 "Maybe," he said to the jeweller, "I am no just able 
 to pay it ye at this moment, but I am brawly weel able 
 to owe it ye!" 
 
 Then the bargain being completed, the King be- 
 gan to tell his gossip and goldsmith how nearly his
 
 MASTER AND MAN 161 
 
 High Majesty had been thrown from his horse on the 
 previous day, owing to a rash " gutter bluid" of Edin- 
 burgh rushing into his sacred presence with a supplica- 
 tion something about a debt due by "my honoured 
 mother." 
 
 "Ud's death, Geordie," he cried, suddenly getting 
 excited, "there's not a loon among them all that knows 
 how to deliver a supplication as it ought to be brought 
 before the face of Majesty." 
 
 Here George Heriot professed himself willing to be 
 taught "that he might instruct his poor ignorant 
 countrymen in better fashions." 
 
 Whereupon King James showed him how to approach 
 the Vicegerent of Heaven, with his hand held edgeways 
 to his eyes as if to signify that he was approaching the 
 sun in his splendour. Then how to kneel, as if to kiss 
 the hem of the royal garment, whereupon the royal 
 Solomon, ever willing to be kindly and debonair, 
 prevents him with a motion of the hand, as if to raise 
 him to his feet. Lastly the subject (the King explained) 
 slips his hand into his pouch and places his dutiful 
 supplication into the hand of his sovereign. 
 
 All which instructions the goldsmith carefully fol- 
 lowed to his master's satisfaction, and at the last, fitting 
 the action to the word, he put into the King's hand the 
 petition of Lord Glenvarloch.
 
 162 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 The King reddened with quickly passing anger, as 
 George Heriot, who knew so well the moods of his 
 master, began to recall so many merry tricks of the 
 old hard days in Holyrood, and the merry pranks they 
 played, so that King James was soon won to a good 
 humour again. 
 
 "D'ye mind," said the King, entering into the spirit 
 of the goldsmith's reminiscences, "how often we had 
 more wooden plates and latten platters than meat to 
 put on them and how once we were fain to send six 
 of the Blue-banders to harry the Lady of Loganhouse's 
 pigeon-tower and poultry yard, so that the King should 
 not die of want in his own palace ? Also of the terrible 
 plaint that the Lady made against Jock o' Milch, an 
 Annandale thief, who, though guilty of much, was at 
 least as innocent of that particular deed as I am of 
 murder!" 
 
 Finally the King, always scarce of money, arranged 
 with his goldsmith to pay to Lord Glenvarloch two 
 hundred pounds, that he might come decently to court, 
 and also commanded him to do his best in the city for 
 the raising of 50,000, out of which to pay the wadset 
 or mortgage upon the Glenvarloch estates.
 
 NIGEL AT COURT 163 
 
 THE SECOND TALE FROM "THE FORTUNES 
 OF NIGEL" 
 
 NIGEL AT COURT 
 
 AT this point everything seemed to be going right 
 (continued Sweetheart, with great penetration) only, 
 you know, it wasn't really, or else the book would have 
 ended just then. Well, next day George Heriot gave 
 a dinner, to which he had invited a number of Scot- 
 tish folk to meet the young lord, or Master Nigel Oli- 
 faunt, as he still preferred to be called. There was 
 Sir Mungo Malagrowther, a deaf, bitter old man, who 
 had been King's whipping boy in his youth that is, 
 when the King did wrong or did not know his lessons, 
 his playmate was horsed and whipped instead of him ! 
 There came also David Ramsay and his pretty daughter 
 Margaret, besides several other citizens and friends of 
 George Heriot. 
 
 And out of this dinner came many things. First, a 
 certain aching in the heart of pretty Peggy Ramsay, 
 of pity for the poor young lord, and the hope that 
 perhaps she might be able to find a way of making him 
 happier. At any rate (said Sweetheart) she was anxious 
 to try, which was very nice of her. Don't you think so ? 
 
 Then afterwards something very strange happened 
 to Lord Nigel at the family prayers, which were still
 
 164 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 a custom at the close of every day in the goldsmith's 
 house. 
 
 George Heriot asked Nigel to stay, saying that his 
 father would not have left the house before worship. 
 A place was left vacant as the family entered to take 
 their places. Then a young lady, tall and pale, dressed 
 in white, her black hair flowing down her back, entered 
 and seated herself. Till service began her eyes re- 
 mained fixed upon the face of Lord Nigel. But at the 
 close of worship, she kneeled and was blessed by the 
 hand of George Heriot laid lightly upon her head. 
 Then she bowed low to Aunt Judith, and so passed 
 out as mysteriously as she had entered. 
 
 So deep an impression did this mysterious figure make 
 upon Nigel, that he could think of nothing else, hardly 
 even of the way in which, according to George Heriot, 
 he should behave when presented at Court ! 
 
 Going home that night, however, Ritchie Monyplies 
 told his master what he had heard when he and the 
 'prentices were waiting in hall for their masters and 
 mistresses, how that this mysterious lady was no real 
 living being, but only the spectre of one who had been 
 dead many years, now in the quality of familiar spirit 
 attached to the household of Heriot, haunting their 
 mansion in Lombard Street, sleeping in her own coffin, 
 and having food passed in upon a circular table !
 
 NIGEL AT COURT 165 
 
 Lord Nigel, though struck by the story, made merry 
 at the idea of an evil spirit with a suite of apartments, 
 which partook of food and attended divine service. 
 But Ritchie answered that all Lombard Street knew 
 the fact, and that it was even whispered that George 
 Heriot himself wore the cloven hoof under his black 
 silk hose and shoes of Cordovan leather. 
 
 Whereupon Nigel threatened to break his head for a 
 rascal who partook too freely of a gentleman's good 
 cheer and then dared to defame him behind his 
 back! 
 
 But the sad face of the young lord had also made 
 Margaret Ramsay singularly unhappy. So much so 
 that her serving-maid, Scotch Janet, took it upon her- 
 self to call in one Dame Ursula Suddlechop, the wife 
 of Ben the Barber, a lady much sought after in the 
 matter of giving advice to people who fancied them- 
 selves in love. 
 
 [Here the boys groaned, and even Sweetheart smiled 
 at the idea of any girl, however young, not knowing 
 her own mind in such matters.] 
 
 That night Nigel's ear ought to have burned, for 
 Margaret and the Dame talked much of him, and they 
 parted only when Ursula promised that she would 
 do her best to find out about Lord Nigel, and also 
 maybe a way of making him less sad.
 
 166 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 ["She was in love, I suppose, the little silly!" said 
 Sir Toady Lion, scornfully. 
 
 "No, she wasn't then!" Sweetheart denied the crime 
 sharply. "Only she wanted to help, as you will find 
 out, if only you keep quiet and listen."] 
 
 When Nigel appeared at court with George Heriot 
 on the following day, he found the palace already 
 crowded with those waiting to be received. There 
 was some difficulty about the matter at first, for Max- 
 well, the usher of the royal chamber, demanded with 
 whom he had come. 
 
 "With Master George Heriot!" said Nigel. 
 
 "That is not sufficient," said Maxwell ; "the name of 
 Master Heriot, though good for much gold and silver, 
 is not sufficient to admit any one into the presence 
 chamber." 
 
 But it chanced that an old adversary of Nigel's 
 father, the Earl of Huntingtower, heard the usher's 
 words, took his arm, and in spite of opposition pushed 
 right in to the presence of King James. 
 
 The King seemed pleased with the young man, 
 especially with his readiness in the use of the Latin 
 tongue, which he had learned in Holland. But as soon 
 as Nigel presented his supplication, James cried out 
 that nobody ever came from Scotland but to ask some- 
 thing of him, and it needed all the credit of the Earl of
 
 NIGEL AT COURT 167 
 
 Huntingtower to obtain an order from the King upon 
 the Scottish Exchequer for the money due to Nigel's 
 father. 
 
 This, however, was at last obtained, and Hunting- 
 tower brought the goldsmith back with him to draw 
 up the deeds, and also to introduce Nigel to his son, 
 who was the ordinary companion of Prince Charles 
 and the Duke of Buckingham. 
 
 On their way they met the favourite, the handsomest 
 man of his age, but as ever proud and unscrupulous. 
 And the Duke of Buckingham declared without the 
 least form of politeness that Nigel might consider him 
 as his enemy. 
 
 "I thank you for your plainness, my Lord Duke," 
 said Nigel; "an open enemy is better than a hollow 
 friend." 
 
 But through the anger of the court favourites, and 
 the difficulties of the King about the payment of his 
 debt, there pierced the true design. The Duke of 
 Buckingham wanted a hunting forest in Scotland, and, 
 having heard of the Glenvarloch estates, he was now 
 eager to obtain them at a price which was a mere noth- 
 ing in comparison to their value. Peterson of Camp- 
 vere, the Lord High Chancellor of Scotland himself, 
 were no more than tools in the hands of the Duke of 
 Buckingham.
 
 168 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 Thus poor Nigel had found his open enemy. He 
 was now to find the still worse hollow friend. Dalgarno, 
 the son of the Earl of Huntingtower, received Nigel, 
 apparently, with open arms. But secretly he was 
 doing all he could to destroy him. He dissuaded him 
 from going to court, saying that till he had made his 
 peace with the favourite it was useless. He took him 
 to gambling-hells, and, when Nigel played cautiously, 
 he sent the whisper abroad that Lord Glenvarloch 
 only "plucked poor pigeons," but was too cowardly 
 to play for high stakes with "a cock of the game." 
 
 Then at court, whenever the King asked for Lord 
 Glenvarloch, Dalgarno would pretend to defend him, 
 but really managed to prejudice the King against him, 
 by regretting that his friend was prevented from attend- 
 ance at the court by a too great devotion to the pleasures 
 of the gaming-house. 
 
 However, after a time Nigel began to have his sus- 
 picions. Not only did he meet averted eyes, even in 
 the taverns which he frequented, but his faithful Ritchie 
 Monyplies told him plainly that he had had enough of 
 his service. He was laughed at everywhere, he in- 
 formed him. Dalgarno himself spoke evil of him, 
 and that, in short, Ritchie Monyplies, who had served 
 him so long for love, was not going to wait and see his 
 master ruin himself in London gambling rooms.
 
 NIGEL IN THE GAMING HOUSE.
 
 NIGEL AT COURT 169 
 
 The next day he received a letter warning him that 
 Dalgarno was his worst enemy, and was every day 
 betraying him to the Duke of Buckingham, while pre- 
 tending to be his friend. 
 
 Nigel was naturally hot-blooded, and so, after he 
 had been insulted by the Prince himself, he met Dal- 
 garno, and in the heat of a quarrel drew his sword, 
 and with it struck his false friend. "The penalty for 
 this was the loss of the right hand, for brawling within 
 the precincts of the park. 
 
 Nigel had instantly to flee as best he could, mak- 
 ing for the only place where he had immunity or 
 might be supposed to have it to the Sanctuary of 
 Whitefriars, called Alsatia, just beyond the Temple. 
 Happily he fell in with a young Templar, named 
 Reginald. Lowestoffe, who took him to .his rooms and 
 disguised him for his stay in Alsatia. 
 
 Reginald Lowestoffe proved a very friend in need. 
 He conducted Nigel in safety through the streets of 
 that dangerous "suburb," swarming with rogues and 
 bullies. He introduced him to the one-eyed inn-keeper 
 who governed it by the aid of a privy council. He 
 pleaded his case before the out-at-elbows Council of 
 Duke Hildebrod, threatening that if Nigel Graeme 
 were not received, the Templars would close their gates, 
 which meant that access to Alsatia Would be made much 
 more difficult and dangerous for its inmates.
 
 170 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 Nigel Graeme for in the meantime he had taken 
 his mother's name was allotted as lodger to a certain 
 Trapbois, a miser, who lived with one ugly, crabbed 
 daughter, down the water-side, as Lowestoffe said, in 
 the only clean house in Whitefriars. Here Nigel, for 
 the moment safe from his pursuers, was left by the 
 Templar. But all that he had gained of court favour 
 was in a way to be lost. George Heriot was in Holland 
 on business; Lord Huntingtower could not very well 
 stand his friend because of his strife with his son Dal- 
 garno even Ritchie had forsaken him. There was 
 only the roystering Templar and little Margaret Ram- 
 say to care about him. And of the interest of the latter 
 he was still ignorant. But if he had forgotten Mar- 
 garet, she had not forgotten him. 
 
 THE END OF SWEETHEART'S SECOND TALE FROM U THE 
 FORTUNES OF NIGEL" 
 
 "Well," said Sir Toady Lion, critically, at the close 
 of Sweetheart's tale, "I don't suppose this Nigel will 
 ever do any good. Just fancy letting people suck up to 
 you like Dalgarno, and you never know any difference, 
 and gambling rubbish ! Once a boy bet with me 
 and he wanted to take my sixpence, too, just because 
 he won. Only I hit him and made him give it back !" 
 
 "Then you were a little brute, Toady Lion," said
 
 YOUTHFUL CRITICISM 171 
 
 Hugh John, who has high ideas of sportsmanlike be- 
 haviour. 
 
 "No, I wasn't," said Sir Toady. "I'm going in for 
 the navy, and father says that gambling isn't allowed 
 in our service!" 
 
 "Oh," said Hugh John, "father says that, does he?" 
 
 "Well words to that effect." Sir Toady hesitated 
 a little. "P'raps he did not say exactly that, but anyway 
 it's bad form and isn't allowed when you're young." 
 
 "Hum," said Hugh John, "stunts your growth, like 
 smoking, I suppose!" 
 
 "Of course," said Sweetheart, rather remorsefully, 
 "it's all ever so much better when you read the book. 
 You'll see when you begin to tell. You have to leave 
 out the very nicest bits, just because they are too nice to 
 tell over again at all. But you can just hear the story 
 first, and then read all about it in the book afterwards. 
 I will tell you the good chapters." 
 
 "We've both got our own books to read," said Sir 
 Toady, dolefully, who found consecutive reading of any 
 kind much inferior to scouring the woods after birds' 
 nests. 
 
 Hugh John, who takes to serious reading as a duck 
 to water, at first found Sir Walter chiefly interesting 
 in the notes because (as he said) "you can believe 
 them." However, he had taken the most historical
 
 172 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 of the adventurous romances, and was "reading up" 
 all round it so as to throw new light upon the text. 
 
 A singular silence fell on the little company when I 
 asked what they thought of the tale. It lasted for 
 some time, while the boys pottered with pencils and 
 finished sketches. 
 
 "Oh, up to the present it's no great shakes of a tale," 
 said Sir Toady, frankly; "but perhaps it's better in the 
 book!" 
 
 "Of course it is ever so much," said Sweetheart, 
 despondently; "that's what I'm always telling you! 
 But then, you see, you won't read the book ! So if I 
 don't tell you, you won't know!" 
 
 This contained too much of naked truth to be denied, 
 and Sir Toady had perforce to fall back upon the hope- 
 fulness of Nigel's position in Alsatia, and the possi- 
 bilities of the miser Trapbois. 
 
 Condemnation with such faint praise nearly brought 
 the tears into Sweetheart's eyes, though she had long 
 ago left behind the melting mood. But I, who knew 
 the nature of young men with a golden sovereign to be 
 won, told her that they merely did not want, by over- 
 praising her performance, to show how far short theirs 
 came of the mark. 
 
 "Oh," said Sweetheart, "they never could be so 
 mean not even boys!"
 
 YOUTHFUL CRITICISM 173 
 
 However, the young gentlemen concerned made no 
 great pretensions to virtue, and said only that "it was 
 well enough" but that Sweetheart "used too many 
 book words, and did not get on fast enough" to all 
 which the retort was obvious. 
 
 "Well, wait till your turn comes, and see if you do 
 better!" 
 
 But in spite of all I could say the tale-teller was 
 downcast, till Maid Margaret (who really had not 
 listened to more than half, owing to the superior attrac- 
 tions of a blue-bottle booming from window to win- 
 dow) came up, and taking her about the neck whis- 
 pered: "Don't you mind what the boys say. If you 
 don't get a gold pound, I'll give you half of mine !" 
 
 Which was at least quite practical sympathy, and 
 showed a pretty confidence in self. 
 
 She was, however, still more comforted by the criti- 
 cism of one more experienced. 
 
 "Sweetheart," I said, "the best story for telling is 
 not always the one you like best to read. I think I 
 like The Antiquary best of all, but it was the hardest 
 to tell to you children." 
 
 "I like them all so much," mourned Sweetheart, 
 "Nigel, and Margaret, and George Heriot yes, even 
 the bad people, Dalgarno and Trapbois!" 
 
 "Oh, yes, that was famous!" Hugh John allowed,
 
 174 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 "that part about Nigel whacking Dalgarno in the 
 park!" 
 
 "He should have stuck him!" said the bloodthirsty 
 Sir Toady, "and why not in a park? Wasn't that the 
 best place? He couldn't have said, 'Kindly come up- 
 stairs into the second-best parlour, and there I'll let 
 daylight through you with my whinger, double-dyed 
 traitor that you are!'" 
 
 Sir Toady's sense of the humorous was various so 
 much so indeed that at school he was frequently in 
 danger of "getting licked for it." 
 
 "Because," said Sweetheart, "King James was so 
 afraid of death by assassination. He had so often been 
 in danger in Scotland that, when he went to England, 
 he forbade all duelling and brawling within the bounds 
 of the Royal Park under penalty of the brawler losing 
 his right hand." 
 
 "Well, I'd have waited for him with a big stick, and 
 whacked him well when he came out," affirmed Sir 
 Toady. "I'd have given the park-keeper a sixpence 
 to tell me when he was coming, and then I'd have 
 cured Mister Dalgarno of telling tales on me!" 
 
 "You couldn't," said Sweetheart; "clubs were only 
 for 'prentices. And if you had been in the story, you 
 would have had to use a sword or be disgraced !" 
 
 " Maybe ! " said Sir Toady, calmly ; " wearing a sword
 
 YOUTHFUL CRITICISM 175 
 
 is all right looks fine, and waggles about among 
 your legs so as to make you feel grand. But for fight- 
 ing, give me a proper good thick stick, that doesn't 
 kill anybody, but dresses them down properly. And 
 that, after all, is what you want !" 
 
 "You would be like Jin Vin, the watchmaker's 
 apprentice," said Sweetheart, scornfully, for she was 
 entirely of Miss Margaret Ramsay's mind. A hero to 
 her was a hero, and had both to be treated and to 
 behave as such. 
 
 "Well and suppose," said Sir Toady. " Jin Vin was 
 about the best man of the lot by a sea mile. He was 
 nearly good enough for the navy !" 
 
 "If he had gone into the army he would have needed 
 to join a line regiment !" said Hugh John, who prided 
 himself on his height quite scorning the often cited 
 proverb about its requiring superior grace. "But 
 Jin Vin would have made a good 'non-com'!" he 
 added reflectively. 
 
 This I doubted, but said nothing. After all, the more 
 of the real opinions of youth I jotted down, the easier 
 would be my task of editor. 
 
 Then Sir Toady delivered himself, lifting himself 
 into a sitting posture to do it. 
 
 "This is it," he said. "Father told the 'Red Cap 
 Tales' just like the book, only not so long. Sweetheart
 
 176 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 thinks there's nothing like the hero and who made 
 love to who " 
 
 "I don't I haven't!" exclaimed Sweetheart; "at 
 least not yet!" 
 
 "Ah, but wait till I tell my story you'll think John 
 Silver was corned back again!" cried Toady. And 
 he cried in a loud green-parrot voice, " Pieces-of-Eight I 
 Pieces-of-EigUr 
 
 This is that Sir Toady Lion who (they say) obtained 
 nomination to a certain college for his reply to one of 
 the examiners, who asked to know if he had read any 
 of the books of a near relative. 
 
 "Oh, yes," said the examinee, carelessly, "some. 
 But I like Treasure Island better." Excellent 
 criticism, excellent honesty, excellent policy ! He was 
 admitted at once. 
 
 And still he is popularly believed to be thoroughly 
 informed on which side his bread is buttered. 
 
 As for Hugh John, he said nothing. But he knew 
 that his turn came first. Then he turned, kicked Sir 
 Toady painstakingly, and delivered himself thus: 
 
 "See here, all this is dashed unfair to Sis. She has 
 got to get through her story or get no 'sov.' Now I 
 happen to know that she needs the chips ' 
 
 "Sis always does," said Sir Toady Lion; "she's not 
 a good little boy like somebody I could name never 
 find any green missionary box under her pillow!"
 
 TALES CONCERNING TRAPBOIS 177 
 
 "Shut up, Toadums!" 
 
 The authority of an elder brother being readily 
 backed by a fist which Sir Toady knew to be large and 
 forceful and bony, the knight closed the alleys of his 
 speech. Once more Sweetheart had the floor. 
 
 ALSATIA was no very pleasant place to hide in for 
 a while (Sweetheart continued). It was full of all the 
 scum of the city, which, contrary to the usual behaviour 
 of "scum," did not rise to the top, but lay festering 
 along the water-side marshes. 
 
 Besides, it was what you boys would call a jolly 
 good thing that Nigel had not gone directly there, for 
 even Alsatia could not stand against a writ of the Star 
 Chamber, backed by a search warrant from the Lord 
 Chancellor. However, it had already been searched 
 before Nigel descended thither; in fact, while he re- 
 mained in Reginald Lowestoffe's lodgings in the 
 Temple. But the next day the "rattling Templar" 
 could not come to see him, because many of the Senior 
 benchers were displeased at his meddling in so serious 
 a matter, and one which so deeply concerned both the 
 Prince and the favourite Buckingham. The day after
 
 178 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 Lowestoffe was "laid in lavender" which is to say, 
 put in prison for his kindness to Nigel, so that the 
 young man was more than ever alone in the house of 
 Trapbois, the miser, by the water-side of Whitefriars. 
 
 The daughter of Trapbois was an old maid of a se- 
 vere and unbeautiful countenance. But she kept her 
 father's house well, and did her best to keep him from 
 showing his miserliness and unhappy spirit. Martha 
 Trapbois was a sensible woman, and in her way kind 
 to Nigel, though she did not hide her contempt for the 
 brawling and gambling that had brought him where 
 he was. 
 
 Her father was constantly making offers of service 
 to his lodger, but none of these would Martha Trapbois 
 permit Nigel to accept. In spite of the plainness of 
 her looks, the miser's daughter was considered a great 
 match in all the quarter. A blustering bully, named 
 Captain Colepepper, proposed again and again for her 
 hand. Duke Hildebrod came in person to make a 
 match between her and Nigel. Her dowry was sup- 
 posed by the Alsatians to amount to fifty thousand 
 pounds at least. 
 
 Often Nigel would ask why she and her father re- 
 mained in so dangerous a locality, but the only answer 
 he got from the miser's daughter was that so long as her 
 father lived, they were safer there than elsewhere.
 
 TALES CONCERNING TRAPBOIS 179 
 
 But Nigel wearied his life out in such a den. He 
 had nothing to read. There were no books in the 
 house, except Mistress Martha's Bible, which she would 
 not lend, and the second volume of an arithmetic 
 belonging to her father, which Nigel declined to bor- 
 row. Duke Hildebrod, however, sent him a dog- 
 eared quarto, but this, at a first trial, did not interest 
 him greatly. The Templar, being still kept in prison, 
 could not for the moment do more for his friend. 
 Every day there was fear of a descent in force to search 
 for him. Yet all the time he was in the house, he 
 could not help admiring more and more the character 
 of Martha Trapbois, who, though she loved her father, 
 did all she could to prevent him cheating his guest, 
 or pestering him with offers of assistance "for a con- 
 sideration." 
 
 It happened one day that Nigel, in consideration of 
 his good treatment, had added a gold piece to the pay- 
 ment of his bill. The miser leaped on it at once, 
 claiming it as his. But his daughter made him give 
 it back. All day, however, he lingered about the 
 passages watching for his chance, and even at night 
 he returned, partly to make sure of the gold Jacobus 
 which Nigel had left upon the table, and partly because 
 for his own ends he wished to steal the King's order 
 upon the Scottish Treasury for the money which was 
 to redeem the estates of Glenvarloch.
 
 i8o RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 Martha Trapbois was constantly advising Nigel to 
 have no dealings with her father, to be his own servant 
 and sole confidant, to make no intimates, borrow no 
 money, make no display of what property he had, and 
 last of all to get out of Whitefriars as soon as he could. 
 
 Nigel thanked her, saying to himself that a gnarled 
 tree might bear good fruit, and a harsh nature give 
 good council. 
 
 That very night Nigel was reading for the second 
 time Duke Hildebrod's book, God's Revenge against 
 Murther. The strange, weird tales fascinated him, 
 thus read in the silence of the night and in such a place. 
 It was wearing late, but Nigel still read on. Suddenly 
 the tapestry flapped against the wall as if a door had 
 been opened. The flames of the candles waved, and 
 there before him Nigel saw the bloodless countenance, 
 meagre form, and ghastly aspect of "old Trapbois. 
 
 Moved partly by what he had been reading and partly 
 by the place in which he found himself, Nigel sprang to 
 his feet, placed the sword which he had unsheathed at 
 the old man's breast, and demanded what he meant 
 by breaking into his room at midnight. They were 
 standing thus; when Martha Trapbois appeared from 
 behind the tapestry/ She had a lamp in her hand, and 
 coming close to Nigel, she attempted to push aside his 
 naked blade with her hand. ' ' "''
 
 TALES CONCERNING TRAPBOIS 181 
 
 "For shame ! " she cried, "to draw your sword on a 
 man of eighty years and more ! Is this the honour of 
 a Scottish gentleman? Give it to me to make a spindle 
 of!" 
 
 "Stand back !" said Nigel; "I mean your father no 
 injury, but I will know what has caused him to prowl 
 all day long, and even at this late hour of night, around 
 my arms!" 
 
 "Your arms!" repeated Martha Trapbois, sadly. 
 "Alas, young man, all the arms in the Tower of Lon- 
 don would be of little value to my father in comparison 
 with that single piece of gold which was left this morn- 
 ing on the table by a young spendthrift, too careless to 
 put that which belonged to him into his own purse." 
 
 And indeed so it was. The old miser had made use 
 of a passage, long disused, to enter his guest's chamber 
 when he fancied him asleep, and so obtain what he had 
 been yearning for all day. 
 
 "It is mine! It is mine!" he cried. "He gave it 
 me for a consideration. I will die ere I part with my 
 property!" 
 
 "It is, indeed, his own, mistress," said Nigel, "and 
 I entreat you to restore it to the person to whom I 
 gave it, and let me have my apartment in quiet !" 
 
 "I will account with you for it, then," said the maiden, 
 firmly. She gave it most reluctantly to her father, who
 
 182 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 pounced upon it like a hawk seizing its prey. Then he 
 made a muttering, contented noise over it, like an old 
 dog that has been fed, before following his daughter 
 through a little sliding door which could be seen when 
 the hangings were drawn apart. 
 
 "This shall be properly fastened to-morrow," said 
 Martha Trapbois under her breath to Nigel; "to- 
 night I shall watch him closely. I wish you good 
 repose!" 
 
 It was the first time that his grim hostess had used 
 such civil words to Nigel, but the wish was not to be 
 accomplished. Nigel failed to get to sleep. He 
 watched the dying embers of the fire till his eyes were 
 dazzled. He listened to the dull moaning of the wind, 
 the creak of many swinging signboards, and the baying 
 of homeless dogs, till his ears grew weary. Sleep, how- 
 ever, seemed as far off as ever. 
 
 Suddenly, through this monotony, pierced a shriek 
 that brought Nigel to his feet in a moment a woman's 
 cry of utmost distress. Then another and another ! 
 
 Nigel armed himself swiftly ; sword and pistol were 
 luckily at his hand. He ran to the door of the chamber. 
 The cries came from the room of the miser, and the 
 brave young lord shook the closed door of the corridor 
 in his impatience. Then the secret passage occurred to 
 him. He went back, and, lighting a candle, he rushed
 
 TALES CONCERNING TRAPBOIS 183 
 
 along the narrow vaulted entrance, guided by the noise, 
 which now burst more loudly on his ear. 
 
 He heard the voices of men encouraging each other 
 to kill some one. "Strike her down silence her 
 beat her brains out!" Then the voice of Martha 
 Trapbois, almost exhausted, repeated the cries of 
 "Help murder ! " which had so effectually aroused him. 
 
 At the bottom of the last few steps was a small door, 
 through which Nigel precipitated himself upon the 
 scene of action, his pistol in his right hand, the candle 
 in his left, and a naked sword under his arm. 
 
 Two ruffians were on the point of overpowering the 
 miser's daughter. She had made a desperate resist- 
 ance. Her dress was torn to pieces. One ruffian was 
 attempting to strike at her with a long clasp-knife when 
 he was surprised by the entrance of Nigel. 
 
 They turned towards him at once, as being the more 
 dangerous foe, but Nigel shot the fellow with the knife 
 dead on the spot. Then, advancing towards the other, 
 he threw the candlestick at his head and attacked him 
 with the sword. It was dark, but there was some 
 pale moonlight straggling in from the window. The 
 second ruffian, after firing a pistol, and trying a pass 
 or two with the sword, lost heart, made for the window, 
 leaped over it, and so escaped. Nigel fired his last 
 pistol after him at a venture, and then called for a light.
 
 184 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 "There is light in the kitchen!" said Martha Trap- 
 bois. "Stay, I will fetch it. You do not know the way. 
 Oh, my father, my father! They have murdered my 
 father 1" 
 
 When Martha Trapbois returned with a light, a 
 ghastly scene was before them. On the floor lay the 
 robber whom Nigel had shot. He had died without 
 a groan. But beside him was another body, on which 
 the miser's daughter threw herself in agony. It was 
 that of her unhappy father. 
 
 "There may be life in him yet !" she cried, striving to 
 lift old Trapbois in her arms. But it was evident that 
 he was dead a scarf had been drawn tightly about 
 his throat to stifle his cries for assistance. It is indeed 
 likely that he had died in defence of the very sovereign 
 which Nigel had given him. It was still clasped in 
 his dead hand, while from the other dropped a key. 
 
 "It is in vain in vain!" said Martha Trapbois at 
 last; "I always knew that it would be so, and now I 
 have witnessed it." 
 
 Nigel ascended to his room to recharge his weapons. 
 Then Martha went to Duke Hildebrod's to claim 
 assistance. Nigel was left alone with the dead bodies. 
 He thought that he could hear the damask nightgown
 
 TALES CONCERNING TRAPBOIS 185 
 
 of the miser flutter about his thin legs, the foot of 
 the dead assassin scraping the floor in vain attempts 
 to rise, or the breathing of new assailants under the 
 window ! 
 
 Then entered a gang of tragic drunkards, fresh from 
 the revels at Duke Hildebrod's, stumbling stupidly 
 among the bodies, and speaking to each other in thick, 
 stammering whispers. The Duke took evidence well 
 and rapidly, examining Martha and afterwards Nigel, 
 looking first at the scarf left behind and then at the 
 open bars of the window through which the men had 
 come, by which also the survivor had escaped. 
 
 The suspicions of both the miser's daughter and 
 Duke Hildebrod were fixed on the Captain Colepepper, 
 called Peppercull. Martha offered money for revenge, 
 and Duke Hildebrod promised her justice in exchange. 
 
 Before leaving, the Duke introduced a messenger 
 from Lowestoffe to Nigel. A warrant from the Lord 
 Chief Justice had been issued and would be put in 
 force to-morrow. A party of musketeers would search 
 Alsatia for him, a force which the Alsatians neither 
 could nor yet would resist. 
 
 "And so, squire," said the man in the green plush 
 jerkin, who had carried it, "my wherry lies for you at 
 the Temple stairs, and if you would give the blood- 
 hounds the slip why, you may!"
 
 i86 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 "Did Master Lowestoffe send me any token?" said 
 Nigel, a little suspiciously. 
 
 "Ay, that did he," said the man, "and I have not 
 forgot it. You were to believe me because your 
 name began with an *O' for Graeme. Well, shall we 
 meet in two hours, and go down the river with the tide 
 like a twelve-oared barge?" 
 
 "Where is the King?" demanded Lord Glenvarloch. 
 
 "The King went to Greenwich yesterday. He was 
 to have hunted this week, but instead they are all down 
 the river, and as merry as minnows." 
 
 "Well," said Nigel, "I shall be ready at five, and do 
 you come here and carry my baggage." 
 
 "Ay, ay, master," said the man, taking his leave 
 along with the disorderly rout of Duke Hildebrod, 
 which was also ebbing away after that functionary had 
 "set the seals" upon the chamber of death. 
 
 To Martha Trapbois, Nigel explained that he was 
 under the necessity of leaving Whitefriars within a few 
 hours. He wished to know if she desired him to com- 
 municate her position to any friends. 
 
 She cut him short ungraciously as ever. 
 
 "The miserable have no friends," she said bitterly. 
 Then, changing her mind quickly, she added, "You 
 are about to leave the Friars. I will go with you 
 I will persuade my father "
 
 TALES CONCERNING TRAPBOIS 187 
 
 But then all that had passed crowded in upon her 
 memory. She wept bitterly, but even the tears calmed 
 her. She declared that her mind was made up. Here 
 she had no friends. She would go with Nigel. Other- 
 wise she had no chance of escaping from Alsatia. 
 
 Nigel attempted to dissuade her. His own way in 
 all probability lay straight to a dungeon. Why should 
 she put herself into like danger ? But Martha Trapbois 
 was willing to take all risks, that she might escape out 
 of this haunt of robbers and murderers. More than 
 that, she would take her money with her, if only to 
 purchase vengeance upon the slayers of her father. 
 
 She bade Nigel return to the room where the miser 
 had slept. He must push the bedstead aside. Be- 
 neath each of the posts he would find a brass plate as 
 if to support the weight. But he was to press the 
 corner of that nearest to the wall on the left. It would 
 spring up, and through the trap-door a small chest 
 would be seen. 
 
 Nigel did not quite like his task. But Martha both 
 encouraged and accompanied him. The bed of the 
 miser showed the trace of the slight pressure of his 
 body. He had been surprised when asleep. What 
 he had striven so long to conceal was soon laid bare. 
 The strong-box was so heavy that, without Martha's 
 assistance, Nigel could hardly have lifted it out of its bed.
 
 i88 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 He also tore down an old hanging, to form a cover, 
 lest the peculiar shape and weight might raise suspi- 
 cions as to its contents. Then Nigel changed the 
 rascally suit in which he had first appeared in Alsatia 
 for one more courtly and becoming his quality. 
 
 The boatman came at his hour, just when the 
 yellow-grey light was beginning to shine through the 
 Thames fogs. He had a companion with him. There 
 was, however, trouble about the baggage. One of the 
 men was sufficiently loaded (in his own estimation, 
 that is) with Lord Glenvarloch's scanty "traps." 
 But the moving of the miser's treasure chest was another 
 matter. The second boatman, after one attempt, 
 pitched it down, declaring that it was as reasonable to 
 expect a man to carry St. Paul's on his back! 
 
 "Let them leave it!" said Martha Trapbois; "let 
 them leave everything so be that we may escape from 
 this horrible place." 
 
 But Nigel was very strong and very athletic, even for 
 a time when all had to be athletic. Also he was very 
 indignant at this treatment. So he slung the pon- 
 derous strong-box upon his own shoulders and marched 
 off with it the waterman following in amazement 
 and some remorse, calling out, "Why, master, master, 
 you might as well gie me t'other end on't!" 
 
 Nigel was fain to accept, for the chest was so heavy
 
 TALES CONCERNING TRAPBOIS 189 
 
 that when it was at length brought to the wherry, it 
 sank the bow of the boat so deep as nearly to upset it. 
 
 There was almost another waterman's rebellion 
 when Martha Trapbois got ready to come aboard. 
 
 Nigel proposed to pay double fare, but this was 
 refused with characteristic rudeness by the waterman 
 in the green jacket. His comrade, however, thought 
 otherwise. For double fare, they were, according to 
 the proverb, "bound to row a witch in her egg-shell !" 
 
 When they got out into the stream they found them- 
 selves the butt for all sorts of water-side wit. The 
 sailors and lightermen made merry on the good looks 
 of Nigel in comparison with the extreme plainness of 
 Mistress Martha. Green Jacket and his companion, 
 however, proved themselves fully capable of replying 
 in the same strain. Nigel asked Martha if she knew 
 of any place where she could be received safely. The 
 miser's daughter knew of none. To assist her father, 
 and to remain near him, she had cast off all her friends. 
 
 Then Nigel bethought himself of John Christie, 
 the ship-chandler at Paul's Wharf, where he had 
 formerly lodged. He wrote a note upon his tablet, 
 addressed to his landlord, asking John Christie, as his 
 old and good friend, to afford her the shelter of his 
 roof for a short time. Accordingly St. Paul's Wharf 
 was reached and the lady put ashore two porters
 
 i 9 o RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 being engaged to carry her box to the well-known house 
 of John Christie, while the boat, lightened of its load, 
 went on its voyage down the Thames by so much the 
 faster. 
 
 But when Martha Trapbois reached the house of 
 the ship-chandler, she hesitated. She knew the power 
 and the danger of so great a sum when in the possession 
 of a woman. The events of the night were still fresh 
 in her mind. Besides, a quarrel was proceeding, and 
 a tall, raw-boned, hard-favoured man stalked forth 
 followed by a decent elderly tradesman. The subject of 
 quarrel was no other than Lord Glenvarloch, whom 
 the ship-chandler was accusing of having in some way 
 wronged him. 
 
 Martha was of course too well accustomed to the 
 squabbles and quarrels of Alsatia to be either surprised 
 or terrified. She stopped John Christie and presented 
 him with Lord Glenvarloch's letter. But the angry 
 ship-chandler threw it on the ground and retired into 
 his house with a hearty curse on all smooth-tongued 
 Scots knaves, including those who brought him letters 
 from them. 
 
 Martha could only call out, though not of a tem- 
 perament which bent itself easily to ask favours, 
 "Good master, hear me for a moment, for mercy's 
 sake, for honesty's sake!"
 
 TALES CONCERNING TRAPBOIS 191 
 
 "No hope of 'mercy or honesty' from him, mistress ! 
 He is horn-mad ! " said the Scot (who of course was no 
 other than Ritchie Monyplies defending the honour of 
 his master against the charge of having carried off 
 Dame Nelly). Ritchie lifted the paper to hand to her. 
 But as he did so the signature caught his eye. 
 
 " Glenvarloch ? " he said in surprise; "do you know 
 Lord Glenvarloch?" 
 
 "I had the paper from one Nigel Graeme," said the 
 daughter of Trapbois, sulkily. 
 
 "Nigel Graeme! Umpk oh, ay, very true! I 
 had forgot," said Richard; "a tall well-set-up young 
 man about my height, bright blue eyes like a hawk's, 
 a pleasant speech, somewhat leaning to the North 
 Country accent like my own?" 
 
 Martha Trapbois owned that all this was very true, 
 but did not see what this other Scot with the red head 
 had to do with it. 
 
 "And so," continued Ritchie, who made no scruple to 
 read the letter of his master, "if honourable lodging 
 and shelter is all you are seeking, I, who am Nigel 
 Graeme's servant, can help you to it" 
 
 "These are all I need," said Martha, "and as you 
 are a man and a Christian, you will help me to them !" 
 
 "A man I am," said Richie, "and as much of a 
 Christian as any one can be after all this while in Eng-
 
 i 9 2 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 land, where there is but little pure doctrine all being 
 polluted with men's devices. If ye be an honest 
 woman (here he peeped under her muffler), as an honest 
 woman ye seem likely to be, I will advise you of a decent 
 house where you will get douce, quiet entertainment 
 on reasonable terms, as well as the occasional benefit 
 of my own counsel and direction." 
 
 Thus Martha Trapbois, for all her wealth, did not 
 find any more notable protector than honest Richard 
 Monyplies, the discarded serving-man of Nigel, Lord 
 Glenvarloch. 
 
 THE RECEPTION OF SWEETHEART'S TALES CONCERNING 
 TRAPBOIS, THE MISER 
 
 There was a subtle triumph on the face of Sweet- 
 heart as she leaned back to take breath. 
 
 "As good as Treasure Island?" she suggested 
 softly. 
 
 "As good as anything," said Hugh John. "Why 
 didn't Sir Walter always make his heroes like that?" 
 
 "Like what?" said Sweetheart. 
 
 "Oh, you know don't pretend, Sis!" 
 
 "Yes, of course she knows," said Sir Toady, break- 
 ing out; "she's as pleased as a stroked pussy about 
 Trapbois and all that."
 
 TALES CONCERNING TRAPBOIS 193 
 
 "And right she is," Toady Lion continued, after a 
 pause of deep thought. ' ' Nigel is the proper sort of hero, 
 after all. No more silly gambling, but bang whack 
 candlestick at one fellow's head bullet into another. 
 He never gives a kick. And only one left to get away, 
 so that there might be a good chase after him, with 
 more fighting, and no end of a row!" 
 
 "Listen to Admiral Tuppens!" said Hugh John, 
 indicating Sir Toady vigorously with his toe; "dear 
 little cherub that sits up aloft and watches the fate of 
 Poor Jack!" 
 
 "No, we don't," said the expert ; "no officer is allowed 
 to sit down when on the bridge!" 
 
 "De-e-e-ar child," continued his elder brother, 
 "fighting and rows and head-breaking. These are 
 his joys to hear him talk, anyway. In reality, what 
 he cares about is pottering through the woods after 
 birds' eggs, and " 
 
 "Watching the nesting habits of the Common Buz- 
 zard through a x 25 power Aitchison field -glass ! And 
 father says there isn't anything much more interesting 
 in the world than that !" 
 
 This was Sir Toady turning the tables on his brother 
 by bringing me into the question. It was, in another 
 form, an appeal to Caesar. 
 
 Still, there was no doubt that, in the present case,
 
 194 
 
 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 Sweetheart had scored a success. She had marked 
 the centre of the bull's-eye, and Maid Margaret nestled 
 up to her with tacit congratulation. 
 
 As for me, I thought it was a good moment for pro- 
 ducing a real new golden sovereign which I had got 
 from the Bank that day. 
 
 I handed it over to Sweetheart, telling her that she 
 had told quite the worth of it, and that we were ready 
 for more whenever she felt like it. 
 
 But like a wise young woman, she preferred to rest 
 on her laurels and pocket the coin. She spent the rest 
 of the day in paying various debts, arranging for Sir 
 Toady's birthday present, advancing infinitesimal sums 
 to a little lady called upon occasion the "Undischarged 
 Bankrupt" owing to a chronic inability to pay 
 twenty shillings in the pound or rather twelve 
 pennies in the shilling. 
 
 Then it was discovered that the boys were missing 
 "Them Boys" as James the gardener called them 
 when they trampled his careful flower-plots or made 
 havoc among the half-ripe gooseberries. 
 
 Moreover, the Fortunes of Nigel in the illustrated 
 Abbotsford edition was wanting also. 
 
 There was no doubt as to who had taken it, and as 
 the purpose was almost equally clear, the seniors inter- 
 ested started at once in pursuit, laying aside work- 
 basket and pen.
 
 TALES CONCERNING TRAPBOIS 195 
 
 It was a clear evening after heavy rain. Eden 
 Water was in flood. There was no good dry accommo- 
 dation on the grass neither under the leaves of the 
 forest trees. But I knew the spot, down by the water- 
 side, where there is a thick square of wall perhaps 
 the spring of the arch of some bridge long since dis- 
 appeared. But to the boys, beyond all dispute, the 
 remains of an ancient fortress ! 
 
 We could peep over and observe the group below. 
 The murmur of a voice came regular and clear. On 
 tiptoe we looked over the hedge, and there, near enough 
 to be touched by the staff in my hand, was Butcher 
 Donnan in his blue blouse, the "steel" of his profession 
 laid across his knees and his eyes, injected and wide 
 open, fixed on the reader. 
 
 Beside him crouched his son Nipper, with several 
 of the more worthy of the Edam boys, listening to the 
 marvellous tale of the Death of Miser Trapbois. 
 Nipper's mouth was so wide open that Sir Toady 
 occupied his leisure in trying to pitch haw-berries into 
 it, flipping them knowingly with his thumb-nail in 
 a way familiar to all boys. 
 
 But Nipper never so much as looked in his direction. 
 Only the reader, Hugh John, annoyed by the frivolity 
 of the interruption, ordered him sharply to "Stop 
 that you!"
 
 196 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 Butcher Donnan, now a Scott enthusiast, could not 
 keep still. His fingers played about his steel as if it 
 were a dagger. It was clear to be seen that if only 
 he had been in the house of Trapbois that night, Nigel 
 would not have had to do his fighting single-handed. 
 
 "'Brave young lord' yes, that he were, lord or no 
 lord ! " The words came from the equally brave heart 
 that beat beneath the blue overalls of Butcher Donnan. 
 The wearer did not, in a general way, approve of lords 
 temporal. But this one seemed quite worth his salt. 
 
 "He heard the poor lass cry, and he went a-bursting 
 in without knowing but what there might have been 
 a round dozen of them. Nipper you hear that!" 
 
 Nipper heard. With his mouth he would have 
 heard, even if the ordinary channels had been closed 
 off. But he was so eager for the story to go on that 
 he did not even answer his father. Not that it was 
 necessary. 
 
 Butcher Donnan knew that Nipper heard. He had 
 trained him to hear the paternal voice through the deep- 
 est slumber possible to mortal boy. Nipper was not, 
 save in this one thing, a model boy. But he respected 
 the fifth commandment that one which begins 
 "Honour thy father!" For he knew that it was the 
 commandment "with promise" particularly in the 
 breach !
 
 TALES CONCERNING TRAPBOIS 197 
 
 It was evident to us that Sweetheart's seed had 
 not fallen on barren ground. Butcher Donnan asked 
 the price of "that there history book," and from the 
 deadly implacable looks on the faces of the younger 
 listeners, it was evident that many wretched miserly 
 Trapboises would be saved, many unknown villains 
 bite the dust always supposing, that is, that there 
 were any misers or villains to be shot down and assas- 
 sinated. For it was quite evident that every boy 
 present, including Butcher Donnan of the grey locks, 
 was, in his own imagination, one more valorous Nigel, 
 Lord of Glenvarloch. 
 
 Silently we stole away. The Abbotsford Nigel 
 was a beautiful copy, the binding green morocco, the 
 paper unfoxed, the wood-engravings some of the finest 
 the world ever saw. But nevertheless we left it to 
 pass rashly from hand to hand. For it was missionary 
 endeavour of the true kind. He cannot be a bad man 
 who loves his Waverley truly and from the heart. 
 If cleanliness is next to godliness, surely Sir Walter is 
 the best mixture of both attainable in letters. 
 
 Having arrived at the age of discretion, Sweetheart 
 could not quite tell her tales before the butchers' boys 
 of Edam. Well, perhaps she might, but old-fashioned
 
 i 9 8 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 though not unrespectable prejudices forbade it! But 
 the boys, two long-legged birds of the air, readily 
 carried the matter. It came all the better at second- 
 hand, riddled with the free slang of boys fresh from 
 school, every word of uncertain meaning expounded 
 by vigorous translation into the language of living and 
 fighting Edam. 
 
 Unconsciously, too, betwixt reading, furnishing links 
 and explanations, the boys were preparing for their 
 own trials yet to come. The golden Edwards were 
 nearer to them because of Nipper Donnan and his 
 blue-bloused father with the dangling steel. 
 
 In retelling Sweetheart and "reading the best bits," 
 they were learning how to tell the stories which Sir 
 Walter wove, so marvellously, so easily, lifting the 
 difficult threads of his story as if he had been playing 
 cats' cradle, and inventing deathless characters 
 "another one before dinner," as a friend of mine says. 
 
 SWEETHEART'S FOURTH TALE FROM "THE 
 FORTUNES OF NIGEL" 
 
 THE TRAITOR'S GATE 
 
 You know how Nigel had heard (continued Sweet- 
 heart) that the King was to hunt that day in Green-
 
 THE TRAITOR'S GATE 199 
 
 wich Park. In spite of Green Jacket, the waterman, 
 and his comrade, in spite of the good ship Royal 
 Thistle which was to convey him to Scotland, Nigel 
 resolved to make a direct attempt to see the King and 
 lay his case before him. 
 
 He was therefore put ashore, after writing a certifi- 
 cate to the green- jacketed waterman that he had 
 demanded to be set down at Greenwich of his own 
 accord furthermore that Jack-o'-the-green and his 
 companion were ready and willing to carry out their 
 promise to set him on board the Royal Thistle. 
 
 Nigel went first to a barber's to have his hair and 
 beard trimmed and put into order. Then he found 
 Linklater, the scullion or under-cook, who had been 
 the means of first bringing Ritchie Monyplies into the 
 royal presence. He had become a high kitchen official, 
 owing to his aptitude for tickling his master's palate 
 with what he called "gusty Scottish dishes," unknown 
 to the English and French cooks about the court. 
 
 Hearing the sound of horns, Nigel went into the park, 
 and had the good fortune to come on the King when 
 he had just killed a buck. Indeed, it was not till all 
 was finished that King James observed who his assistant 
 was. 
 
 At last the King looked, and the blood left his cheek 
 as he recognized Lord Glenvarloch. Instantly he
 
 200 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 reached the conclusion that Nigel was about to commit 
 an assault on his sacred person. 
 
 In vain Nigel begged him to be composed and listen 
 to what he had to say. But this James, fearful by 
 nature, could by no means do. It was half fear, 
 half a ludicrous kind of anger that his dignity was 
 affronted. He kept making little runs at his horse 
 and trying to mount, muttering all the while : " We are 
 a free King, man we are a free King we will 
 not be controlled by a subject. In the name of God, 
 what keeps Steenie ? Hillo ho here, here ! Steenie ! 
 Steenie!" 
 
 The Duke of Buckingham galloped up, calling out 
 that fortune as usual had favoured "our Royal Dad," 
 as he was accustomed to call the King. 
 
 King James, being now safe, began to feel that he 
 had escaped from great peril. He might have been 
 assassinated, he said, and no one would have been 
 there to help him not even his dear Steenie. 
 
 The Duke took the supposed assault as having been 
 committed, and ordered them to seize Nigel. 
 
 "Are you wounded, my liege?" he cried affection- 
 ately; "are you wounded?" 
 
 "Not that I ken of," said the King; "but search him. 
 I am sure I saw firearms under his cloak. I am sure I 
 smelled powder!"
 
 THE TRAITOR'S GATE 201 
 
 And so when Nigel's cloak was stripped off and his 
 pistols were discovered, a shout of execration went up 
 from the crowd. 
 
 "Away with the wretch the parricide the 
 bloody-minded villain ! " The words were echoed on 
 all sides. 
 
 And the King himself took up the cry. He really 
 began to believe that he had escaped by the strength 
 of his own arm from a dangerous conspiracy. 
 
 The Prince rode up hastily and asked also if the 
 King were hurt. 
 
 "Not that I am sensible of, Baby Charles," said the 
 King; "only a wee matter exhausted from struggling 
 single-handed with the assassin. Steenie, fill us a cup 
 of wine the leathern bottle is hanging at our pommel." 
 
 Then after he had thus taken his cup of comfort, he 
 continued, "Buss me, Baby Charles. Oh, man, the 
 Commonwealth and you have had a fair escape this day ! 
 Woe is me, black cloth would have been dear in 
 England, and dry e'en scarce!" 
 
 And at the very idea of the universal grief at his own 
 death, the good-natured monarch cried heartily him- 
 self. 
 
 Prince Charles, however, who knew his parent, 
 demanded that any one who had been a witness of the 
 attempt should speak. The King called on Bucking-
 
 202 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 ham to testify if he had not seen Nigel struggling with 
 the monarch. 
 
 "I cannot term it so, my lord," said the Duke, who, 
 with many faults, would have scorned an untruth; 
 "he seemed rather desirous of detaining his Majesty, 
 who, on the contrary, appeared to wish to mount his 
 horse ! " 
 
 The Prince unloaded Nigel's pistols of the double 
 bullets with which they were charged. Then he 
 reproached Nigel for bringing prohibited weapons into 
 his Majesty's presence. 
 
 Nigel answered that he wore them in self-defence, 
 and that only an hour or two ago they were necessary 
 for the defence of the lives of others. 
 
 Nigel boldly demanded a hearing, and at last both 
 the King and the Prince promised to look into his 
 case "when time and place were fitting," said the 
 former. 
 
 When Nigel had been removed, the Prince said to 
 Buckingham that he could hardly believe that a gentle- 
 man of such happy presence and good countenance, 
 who behaved with such calm firmness in difficult 
 circumstances, could really have attempted to commit 
 a crime so useless and desperate. 
 
 Buckingham answered that he had neither love nor 
 favour for the young man, but that he agreed with
 
 THE TRAITOR'S GATE 203 
 
 the Prince that "our dear gossip" had been somewhat 
 hasty in apprehending personal danger from him. 
 
 "By my saul, Steenie," cried the King, "you are not 
 blate to say so ! Who nosed out the Fifth of November, 
 if not I? And now ye would tell me that I cannot 
 smell powder?" 
 
 Nigel was soon put into a boat with the pursuivant, 
 two yeomen of the guard, and rowed as fast as six 
 stout oarsmen could take him to the Tower of London 
 by way of the projecting, low-browed archway called 
 Traitor's Gate. 
 
 The Lieutenant of the Tower said that it was his 
 duty to place Lord Glenvarloch under some restraint, 
 but that he would make it as easy as duty permitted. 
 
 Nigel found himself in a long, low apartment, with 
 scanty furniture, in which the warder received orders 
 to light a fire. It had long been used as a prison of 
 state, and Nigel, while waiting events, amused himself 
 by deciphering the dainty handwriting of Lady Jane 
 Grey, the Bear and Ragged Staff of the Dudleys, the 
 last testimonies of Catholics awaiting the cruel mercies 
 of Elizabeth, and Protestants for whom the fires of 
 Smithfield were already being lighted. 
 
 While thus employed Nigel was suddenly interrupted 
 by the entrance of a warder, who came to tell him that 
 he must immediately receive a fellow-prisoner, who
 
 204 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 would furnish both company and, if necessary, at- 
 tendance also. 
 
 But Nigel wished for neither only to be left alone. 
 However, the warder told him that the Lieutenant was 
 the best judge of how his prisoners should be accom- 
 modated, adding that the boy was "such a slip of a 
 thing as hardly to be worth while turning a key upon." 
 
 The lad was brought in trembling with confusion 
 and terror. Nigel, though he would fain have been 
 alone, tried to cheer him up, telling him that one so 
 young could not have done anything to keep him long 
 in such a place. 
 
 "Think that you have been shut up here for playing 
 truant," he said, "and though you have no beard as 
 yet, do not dishonour your manhood by crying like 
 a girl!" 
 
 But the intense agony of his companion affected 
 Nigel, who sat down beside him and tried to console 
 him. He drew his hand over the boy's long curls, 
 but was astonished to note that he shrank away from 
 even that light touch. 
 
 Nigel, therefore, sat down on the farther side of the 
 hearth and began to question his companion. 
 
 "Tell me who and what you are," he said ; "consider 
 me as a companion who wishes to be kind to you, if 
 only he knew how."
 
 THE TRAITOR'S GATE 205 
 
 But all the answer he could extract was only that the 
 boy was unhappy. 
 
 "You are very good, sir, my lord, I mean, and 
 I am very unhappy ! What is worse, I have only 
 myself to thank for my misfortunes." 
 
 "That," said Nigel, smiling, "is the rule with the 
 misfortunes which we are unhappy about. But you 
 are so young you can have very little to answer for." 
 
 "Indeed," said the boy, "there is no harm about me. 
 I am innocent. That is, I have done wrong, but 
 nothing to deserve being put into this frightful place. 
 I left my father's house without leave to see the King's 
 hunt in Greenwich Park. There came a cry of treason, 
 and the gates were shut. Then I was found by some 
 rangers, and as they said I could give no good account 
 of myself, I was sent here!" 
 
 Nigel observed that the boy's story sounded strangely. 
 If he had told his name and his means of getting into 
 the park, surely they would have let him go. 
 
 But the boy had not told his name to the rangers, 
 and would not do so to Nigel. He had, he said, told 
 too much already to one whose heart he had hoped to 
 move. More he would not say. 
 
 Nigel offered him his couch to rest upon, but the boy 
 preferred to remain in his great chair, drawing his 
 cloak about him so as to hide his face. Meanwhile
 
 206 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 Nigel continued his pensive walk to and fro in his 
 prison cell. 
 
 But he was to have other visitors to try his patience 
 more severely first of all John Christie, who came to 
 ask concerning Dame Nelly, and departed still un- 
 believing, though Nigel assured him over and over 
 again that he had nothing to do with the matter of his loss. 
 
 After the ship-chandler was gone, Nigel looked 
 again at his companion, who appeared to have been 
 weeping, and sleeping at the same time. He was not 
 long in finding out that the lad was only a girl dressed 
 in boy's clothes ! 
 
 Nevertheless, Nigel renewed his offers of service, if 
 she would tell him her name, adding that from him she 
 had nothing to fear. 
 
 The meal that was now served to the two was ample 
 and well-cooked, and as they partook of it Nigel could 
 see at once that his companion had been well brought 
 up. She behaved with the most decorous grace and 
 charm, and her dress added to the strange fascination 
 she was beginning to exercise over Nigel a feeling 
 so strong as to make him forget his own danger. 
 
 Hardly was the meal over, and his companion re- 
 turned to her great chair, than a second visitor was 
 announced, no other than George Heriot. The jeweller 
 was very angry or at least appeared to be so. He
 
 THE TRAITOR'S GATE 207 
 
 rated Nigel for his past conduct his gambling, his 
 ill name even among those with whom he habitually 
 associated, his supposed carrying off of Dame Nelly, 
 the disappearance of Martha Trapbois, and other 
 matters. 
 
 But Nigel, while acknowledging his faults and mis- 
 takes, denied all that was serious in the accusation. 
 
 In order to prove the truth of his word he sent for 
 his casket, to show the papers contained in it. They 
 were all there, but the King's order for the Glenvar- 
 loch money had disappeared I 
 
 Whereupon Heriot accused Nigel of having pledged 
 it for some petty sum. Nigel could only say that if 
 the old lands of Olifaunt must go, firth and forest, 
 lea and furrow, lake and stream, well, then, good-by 
 to them ! 
 
 "Zounds I" cried Heriot, "you are enough to make a 
 saint swear! Does the loss sit so light on you? Is 
 that all you have to say? S'death, my lord, you will 
 make more moan for it ere you die!" 
 
 "Not I, my old friend," said Nigel. "If I mourn, 
 Master Heriot, it will be for having lost the good 
 opinion of a worthy man and lost it, as I must add, 
 most undeservedly." 
 
 "Undeservedly !" said the jeweller ; "you will as soon 
 make me believe that this masquerading mummer on
 
 2 o8 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 whom I now lay the hand of parental authority is 
 your French page who speaks no English!" 
 
 So saying, he snatched away the page's cloak, some- 
 what unceremoniously, and revealed to full view the 
 daughter of the old watchmaker, and his own god- 
 daughter, pretty Mistress Margaret Ramsay. 
 
 "Here is goodly gear!" he cried, giving the girl a 
 shake for her naughty wilfulness ; "and I have a great 
 mind to make her smart for her folly on the spot !" 
 
 "Master Heriot," said Nigel, "whatever rights you 
 have over this maiden elsewhere, remember that while 
 in my apartment she is under my protection." 
 
 "A very proper protector !" cried Heriot ; "and pray 
 how long have you been under my lord's kind pro- 
 tection?" 
 
 "For two hours," said Margaret, blushing; "but it 
 was against my will." 
 
 "No doubt no doubt !" said Heriot ; "so his lord- 
 ship here will take oath, but methinks some of his 
 words want a warrant." 
 
 "Godfather," said Margaret, who began to recover 
 her natural spirits, "I cannot be silent. You do me 
 wrong. Also you wrong this young nobleman. You 
 say his words want a warrant. Well, I know where to 
 find a warrant for some of them, and the rest I devoutly 
 believe without one!"
 
 THE TRAITOR'S GATE 209 
 
 George Heriot demanded a clear explanation from 
 his god-daughter of how she came to be in this place. 
 Margaret told him that she had gone down that morn- 
 ing to Greenwich Park with Monna Paula, the Lady t 
 Hermione's waiting-maid, to present a petition to the 
 King. 
 
 " Gad-a-mercy ! " cried Heriot, "is she in the dance, 
 too? Could she not have waited my return before 
 moving in her affairs? But what had this petition to 
 do with your present absurd disguise?" 
 
 "Mohna was frightened," said Margaret Ramsay, 
 "and I promised to go with her to give her courage. 
 And as for the dress, you must surely remember that 
 I wore it at a Christmas mumming, and you thought it 
 not unbeseeming." 
 
 "Yes, for a Christmas parlour," said Heriot, "but 
 not to gad up and down the country in." 
 
 "When the alarm arose in the park and the gates 
 were shut," Margaret continued, "I ran till I fell into 
 the arms of a very decent serving-man, one named 
 Linklater. I told him I was your god-daughter. So. 
 he kept the rest from me, and even got me speech with 
 his Majesty, as I entreated him to do!" 
 
 "The only sign you have showed all through that 
 common sense had not utterly deserted your little 
 skull!" said Heriot. "Now I will escort you back
 
 2io RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 to the Lady Mansell and tell her that when next she 
 is intrusted with a goose, she must not give it to the 
 fox to keep!" 
 
 As Nigel stood watching Margaret Ramsay go out 
 on the arm of her godfather, he made her a profound 
 bow, which somehow had the art of calling the happy 
 flush to her face. 
 
 She returned his farewell timidly, clung to George 
 Heriot's arm, and when the door shut, the apartment, 
 dark before, appeared to the prisoner ever so much 
 darker. 
 
 $ $ # :fc $ $ $ 
 
 THE END OF SWEETHEART'S FOURTH TALE FROM "THE 
 FORTUNES OF NIGEL" 
 
 The senate was sitting. Sweetheart had finished her 
 tale with the air of one who is saving something good 
 for the last. The boys, being experienced, knew ex- 
 actly what to make of that. But it was more difficult 
 to explain to Nipper Donnan and his father. 
 
 Butcher Donnan had been so delighted with the 
 Tale of Trapbois that this time he had not only come 
 himself to the Feudal Tower, but had brought two 
 friends with him. 
 
 One of these, in leather leggings and stout velveteens, 
 was John Chesnay, the gamekeeper, over at Colonel
 
 AN ARTIST FOR ART'S SAKE 211 
 
 Davenant Carter's. The second was George Elphin- 
 stone (called Elphie), who was supposed to know more 
 about game than the gamekeeper himself. On the 
 hill, on the moor, along the riverside, these two were 
 embattled enemies. For "Elphie," patrolling the 
 roads, mending here a culvert, and there planning out 
 a "barrow" of stones to be broken, could keep his eye 
 all day on the comings and goings of the game. 
 
 And from the height of a knoll on the hillside, deep- 
 hidden among the heather, or with his face glued to a 
 hole in the dry stone dike, John Chesnay kept his eye 
 upon Elphie. For Elphie was a poacher but by 
 no means a common, sell-them-in-the-nearest-town, pot- 
 hunting poacher. Elphie had as good a wage as the 
 gamekeeper. He was a poacher for pleasure, an artist 
 for art's sake though all the same he could enjoy 
 a pheasant done to a turn by his wife Eliza. Only he 
 did the carving himself, and insisted on bread crumbs ! 
 Thus you see Elphie was very far indeed from being 
 an ordinary poacher. He was rather "a man who 
 poached" a very different thing, as all gamekeepers 
 know. 
 
 I can see Elphie yet, hammering away at his pile of 
 wayside stones, or with his goggles pushed up to give 
 his eyes a rest as he talked for he dearly loved a 
 gossip, no man more.
 
 212 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 Our boys admired both. But each was a partisan. 
 As usual, Hugh John stood for law and order. He 
 was of the gamekeeper's faction. He did not wander 
 the woods with Sir Toady in quest of eggs, nor yet 
 bring home surreptitious game which he had "found" 
 in the company, doubtless, of the aforesaid Elphie. 
 
 True, Hugh John did not spoil sport, but he did not 
 wish the honour of the house and of his Majesty's 
 Navy to be sullied by night poaching upon friendly 
 ground. He would therefore remark casually, after a 
 visit to the keeper's cottage, "It's going to be a stormy 
 night you stop at home, Toadums, you hear!" 
 
 And owing to circumstances (connected with fist 
 law and some three years' difference of age), the orna- 
 ment of the senior service stayed where he was. But 
 on the neutral ground of "Sir Walter" all three men 
 were free and equal. 
 
 A confirmed sportsman himself, doubtless Butcher 
 Donnan preferred to take his "evenin's" and "morn- 
 inV with Elphie. But John Chesnay was a know- 
 ledgeable fellow also, and there was no doubt he un- 
 derstood about dogs. Generally he was a man of 
 few words, spoken in the strictest line of business, such 
 as, "That pup's got distemper!" 
 
 Seated on the broken wall of the Feudal Tower, the 
 three men listened to a third retelling of the fight with
 
 THE TRAITOR'S GATE 213 
 
 the robbers in the house of Trapbois. It seemed as if 
 they would never tire of it. 
 
 "Near as good as t'a Police News!" said Elphie, 
 who took in that paper, as John Chesnay, the game- 
 keeper, affirmed, "for the purpose of learning how to 
 behave on the scaffold when his turn came." 
 
 But the stag-hunting exploit in Greenwich Park came 
 in for most bitter censure on the part of experts. 
 
 "To hunt within a stone wall in a deer park 
 hunt 'em with dogs a poor beast that never had a 
 chance from the start ! Call that sport?" Such were 
 the united testimonies of John Chesnay, gamekeeper, 
 and Elphie, expert in game-poaching. 
 
 "No sort of a way at all," repeated Chesnay, who 
 had had experience in the Highlands ; "as well go into 
 a cage and kill the canaries!" 
 
 This was strong talking for the silent gamekeeper, 
 while as for Elphie, he seemed to regret that Nigel had 
 not taken his chance and fired a pistol into the King's 
 High Majesty. 
 
 "He's naught o' a man!" he said, over and over 
 again. "He would never have made a p stone- 
 breaker, I mean!" 
 
 The eye of the gamekeeper rested on his sometime 
 foe, keen as a needle-point but only for a moment. 
 He grunted and resumed his pipe. All three men,
 
 214 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 being disciplinarians in their own families, agreed as 
 to the necessities of Peggy Ramsay's case. 
 
 "Should be well whipped and sent to bed!" said 
 Butcher Donnan. 
 
 " Supperless ! " added John Chesnay. 
 
 " And a sound tongue-lashing from her mother the 
 next mornin' !" said Elphie, whose wife was reported 
 to be gifted that way. 
 
 At this treason against Sir Walter, Hugh John stirred, 
 sat up, and looked from one to the other. Sir Toady 
 was about to speak, but a look from Hugh John re- 
 duced him to silence. 
 
 "Maybe," said Hugh John, slowly, "you would have 
 thought differently about it, when you were as young 
 as Nigel Olifaunt. More than that the girl had no 
 mother!" 
 
 "Ay!" said Butcher Donnan, nodding thoughtfully. 
 
 "That makes a difference that does," said Poacher 
 Elphie, "and her father doubtless out from morning 
 till night, addling his bread!" 
 
 Keeper Chesnay said nothing, yet even his dour will 
 seemed to change a little in the matter of Mistress 
 Margaret. 
 
 He stretched out his hand for the book, and gazed 
 long at the picture of George Heriot discovering Peg-a- 
 Ramsay in Nigel's dungeon in the Tower.
 
 THE TRAITOR'S GATE 215 
 
 "She's no unbonny !" he said, after a lingering look, 
 as he handed it back; "only " 
 
 He paused so long that it seemed as if the sentence 
 were finished. 
 
 "Only what? speak out, man!" cried Butcher 
 Donnan. 
 
 "If the quean were a bairn o' mine," said he, slowly 
 and sententiously, "I wad hae waited for that young 
 man, and him and me wad hae pitten up the 
 banns!" 
 
 The inwardness of this was lost on the boys, who 
 were already foraging through the volume for other 
 and more interesting incidents. However, the session 
 took end naturally. Nipper Donnan was ordered off 
 by his father to "shut up the shop" and to take a pound 
 each of "best neck" to several poor families of his own 
 communion. 
 
 The keeper rose with a sigh and, with a lift of his 
 thumb over his shoulder, indicated the direction of the 
 pheasant coops, where his comrade Jo Gill would be 
 waiting for relief. 
 
 "Good e'en to ye I" he said, as briefly as George 
 Heriot himself. 
 
 Only the butcher and the roadman-poacher remained. 
 The boys were still knocking their heads together over 
 the volume, ending, however, by finding and reading the
 
 ai6 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 interview in the dungeon between Heriot and the young 
 lord. 
 
 "Impident he was!" said Butcher Donnan; "it's 
 not me that would have taken as much lip as that from 
 any man jeweller or grocer !" 
 
 "He owed him money ! That wad be it !" said the 
 wary poacher, who had had many a long "rick" him- 
 self at various shops including that of Butcher 
 Donnan himself when it was his bad season. 
 
 " Owed him money ! " cried Butcher Donnan ; " why, 
 sir, in Ireland in County Kerry where I come from 
 'tis the man that does NOT owe money that is disre- 
 spected shot, maybe, if so be that money is rent!" 
 
 At this point Elphie rose and made his salutation to 
 the company. He had an engagement, he said. Sir 
 Toady had one, too. But the fraternal toe induced 
 him to give it up. 
 
 The butcher eyed the brothers with a small twinkling 
 eye, deeply set in his huge face. He grinned. Then 
 he uttered a great truth. 
 
 "If Nipper had had a big brother," he said, "I 
 know an honest butcher-man that wud have been saved 
 a deal of trouble!"
 
 THE LAST TALE 217 
 
 NIGEL (said Sweetheart) was still in the Tower. 
 Nothing seemed changed. He had dreamed, it is 
 true, about Margaret Ramsay. He saw her little foot 
 peeping out from under her cloak 
 
 ["Ha ha!" suddenly screamed Sir Toady, who, 
 at this period, had no romantic illusions as to the power 
 of female beauty, "'her little foot- peeping out from 
 beneath her cloak ' (he was mimicking) "oh, won't our 
 fellows laugh!" 
 
 "Well, at least you won't," said his elder brother; 
 "how do you like the 'peeping of that little foot* 
 eh eh eh? 1 ' 
 
 "Elephant hippo hog!" cried Sir Toady, in 
 shrill crescendo, as the coercion proceeded on the best 
 fraternal lines. "Well, then, I won't no, I won't 
 interrupt Sis but it hie hie was funny ! " 
 
 This inset piece being thus satisfactorily finished, the 
 narrator was about to continue. 
 
 "Say it all over again, Sis," commanded the Senior 
 Disciplinarian, "exactly as before, word for word. 
 And if so much as a smile flits over that intelligent 
 naval countenance, the Benbow won't know him when 
 he goes back!"
 
 2 i8 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 But the face of the young salt became at once of the 
 proper sea-faring lack-of-expression, as if at the word 
 of command. 
 
 "Say it slow, Sis!" commanded Hugh John; "it's 
 for his good !" And he himself leaned a little forward 
 with his left fist lightly closed. 
 
 "He saw in dreams her little foot peeping out from 
 beneath her cloak " repeated Sweetheart, rather 
 adding than subtracting. 
 
 "Well done, Brass and Brine!" said Hugh John, 
 who had been watching for the least flicker of expression 
 on the fraternal countenance.] 
 
 Well, when Nigel woke (here Sir Toady, seeing the 
 brotherly eye regarding the distant hills through the 
 window, grinned), he heard a voice which he had thought 
 a good three hundred miles to the northward of the 
 Tower of London. For an instant it seemed that he 
 was deceiving himself. He heard the voice of Ritchie 
 Monyplies, his old servant, whom he had thought long 
 ago back in Edinburgh town. 
 
 "Humph, ay," said the voice, "time that both cloak 
 and jerkin were through my hands. I question if 
 brush has passed across them since we parted. But 
 many of the gold buttons of the cloak are no more
 
 THE LAST TALE 219 
 
 as I'm an honest man, a round dozen of them are gone ! 
 This comes o' Alsatia frolics !" 
 
 Looking through the curtains of his bed, Nigel 
 beheld the stiff and bony length of Ritchie, with a visage 
 charged doubly with importance. He was employed 
 in brushing his master's cloak, and whistling Scottish 
 ballad music as he did so. 
 
 "In the name of heaven, Ritchie," cried his master, 
 for once surprised into familiarity, "is that you?" 
 
 "And who else should it be?" said Ritchie, brushing 
 away. "It is little likely that your lordship's levee in 
 this place should be attended by any save those who, 
 like me, are old and faithful servants!" 
 
 "But I thought you were in Scotland you parted 
 from me once and for all!" 
 
 "No such thing," said honest Ritchie; "if your lord- 
 ship does not ken when he has a guid servant, I ken 
 when I have a kind master ! More than that, you will 
 be the easier served, that here you will have but little 
 chance of breaking bounds!" 
 
 "I hope," said Nigel, smiling, "that you will not 
 take advantage of my situation to be too severe on my 
 past follies." 
 
 "God forbid, my lord !" replied Ritchie; "I do not 
 forget that even I myself am human, and conscious of 
 some small weaknesses. There is no perfection in man ! ' '
 
 220 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 Nigel laughed at the idea of Ritchie, in his own 
 opinion, coming as near that perfection as is possible 
 for human creature. 
 
 "But," he added, "your service here can be of little 
 benefit to a prisoner, and may be very prejudicial to 
 yourself!" 
 
 Ritchie, however, stuck to it with his ordinary dog- 
 matism, that he could be of great service, yet he himself 
 no whit prejudiced. However, he made the condition 
 that, as he was employed on urgent private business, he 
 should only do his service for his master at such times 
 as were convenient for himself! 
 
 Lord Nigel pointed out that this arrangement would 
 hardly do for a free man, but that as a prisoner, he was 
 not in the position to be a chooser. It was characteristic 
 that Ritchie, after he had made his terms, assisted as 
 usual at Nigel's toilet, and waited upon him at break- 
 fast with every mark of respect. The master could not 
 help being touched by such fidelity in spite of the 
 anticipation, sure to be fulfilled, that he would yet 
 have to stand many lectures upon the lightness of 
 his character and the lack of seriousness in his be- 
 haviour. 
 
 Meantime Ritchie was not losing his time. From the 
 Tower he betook himself to the palace, where we find him 
 intriguing with Linklater, now principal kitchen clerk
 
 THE LAST TALE 221 
 
 and favourite king's cook, that he should have another 
 interview with Majesty. 
 
 Linklater at first cried out in horror at the idea. 
 Ritchie would infallibly lose his own head, and what 
 affected him much more, cause Linklater to lose his 
 place in the royal kitchen. 
 
 But Ritchie insisted that the "bit sifflication " he had 
 would be most grateful to the King. Still the cautious 
 Clerk of the Kitchen held out. He would move neither 
 hand nor foot in the matter. He had risked enough 
 already. However, he was not opposed to Ritchie 
 slipping the " sifflication" between the bowl and the 
 platter of the Scottish broth he was just sending up 
 to the royal chamber. "For," said he, "the King 
 always drinks out the bowl. Only" (he added) "if this 
 brings you to the gallows or the scourging post, it is 
 your ain wilful deed." 
 
 "I will blame none other!" said the undismayed 
 Ritchie, and so waited to see what should be the upshot. 
 
 It was not long in arriving. In a few moments 
 Maxwell himself came down to demand who had placed 
 a writing on the King's trencher. 
 
 Ritchie, stepping boldly forth, answered, "I am the 
 man!" 
 
 "Follow me, then !" said Maxwell, after first looking 
 at him with great curiosity. They went to the King's
 
 2?3 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 chamber by the private staircase, where Maxwell left 
 him to speak with the King. Ritchie caught the con- 
 clusion of the interview. 
 
 "Ye are sure he is not dangerous? I was caught 
 once. Bide within call. If I speak loud, start to me 
 like a falcon. If I speak low, keep your lang lugs out 
 of earshot. And now show him in." 
 
 So Ritchie found himself alone in the presence of 
 Majesty. 
 
 But Master Monyplies had too good an idea of him- 
 self to be in the least put out by any such trifling cir- 
 cumstance. He stood before James stiff as a hedge- 
 stake. 
 
 "Have ye gotten them, man? Have ye gotten 
 them?" said James, in a fluttered state, between hope 
 and eagerness, with yet something also of fear. " Be- 
 fore ye speak a word, gie them to me I charge you 
 on your allegiance!" 
 
 Ritchie bent on one knee and presented a box to the 
 King, which, when opened, showed the carcanet of 
 balas rubies which had formerly ornamented the 
 King's hat. James fell into a kind of childish rapture, 
 kissing the gems, and behaving so that a kind of grim 
 smile broke over Ritchie's face as he watched. 
 
 "Take heed, sir," said the King, looking up; "do 
 not laugh at us we are your anointed sovereign !"
 
 THE LAST TALE 223 
 
 "I was only trying, with indifferent means, to bring 
 my countenance into conformity with that of your 
 gracious Majesty!" said Ritchie, who was conceited 
 enough to fancy himself a good courtier, now that he 
 had the opportunity. 
 
 Upon which the King commended him and asked his 
 name. 
 
 "Ah," said the King, laughing, when he had learned 
 who his Northern subject was, "ye are the self-same 
 traitor that nearly sent us end-lang on the causeway 
 of our ain courtyard ! Only we stuck to the mare. 
 Weel, Ritchie, how came ye by the jewels? Come 
 you on the part o' George Heriot?" 
 
 " In no sort," said Ritchie. " I come, as Harry Wynd 
 fought, utterly for my ain hand ! I call no man master 
 save God, your Majesty, and the noble Nigel, Lord 
 of Glenvarloch, who maintained me as lang as he could 
 maintain himsel', poor nobleman." 
 
 "Glenvarloch again!" cried the King; "by my 
 honour, he lies in ambush for us at every corner. But 
 whisht ! Maxwell knocks at the door I will wager 
 that is George Heriot come to tell us that he cannot 
 find these very rubies ! Get behind the arras stand 
 close, man sneeze not, cough not, breathe not!" 
 
 Then began one of the homely jestings which the 
 King loved so greatly especially with George Heriot,
 
 224 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 who (as he said) was so cursedly backward with his 
 gold-ends of money and so cursedly forward with his 
 gold-ends of wisdom, that now he was glad, through 
 all his royal soul, to "get a hair in his neck !" 
 
 For the first time on record the great goldsmith was 
 at a loss. He had indeed taken the crown-jewels as 
 a pledge, and now he could not replace them. He 
 pleaded, indeed, that he had told the King beforehand 
 how that the lender of the money was no very credit- 
 able person, whereupon James had replied, " Non 
 olet" meaning that the gold did not smell of the 
 means of getting it. 
 
 "But," said the King, "as a loyal subject you ought 
 to have taken care that they remained where it was 
 within your King's power to redeem them ! That the 
 blame and the shame should not fall upon your mon- 
 arch." 
 
 Heriot pleaded that the sudden and violent death of 
 the man himself, the disappearance of his daughter 
 and all his wealth, the hue and cry that had been made 
 everywhere (though without effect), might show that 
 he at least had done his best. 
 
 "It has been found quite impossible to recover 
 them!" said the goldsmith, a trifle sadly. For he 
 clearly saw that, though perfectly innocent, he was in a 
 difficult position as the intermediary in such a business.
 
 THE LAST TALE 225 
 
 "Difficult, ye mean, Geordie not impossible," 
 said the King. "What is impossible must remain im- 
 possible. What is only difficult may be resolved by 
 the aid of wisdom and patience as, for instance, 
 Jingling Geordie, look here !" 
 
 And he displayed the recovered treasure before the 
 eyes of the astonished jeweller, crying, "What say ye 
 to that, Jingler? By my sword and sceptre, the man 
 stares as if he took his native prince for a warlock. 
 But gang thy way, honest Geordie. Thou art a good 
 plain man in thy way, but none of the seven sages of 
 Greece!" 
 
 As Heriot was going out the King burst into a roar 
 of royal laughter at the goldsmith's rueful countenance, 
 which in turn was echoed from behind the arras. If 
 the King laughed, so, according to Ritchie, must the 
 good subject also. 
 
 The King ordered him to come out and be silent. 
 There was, he said, no need to "nicker" like a young 
 horse, even at so good a jest and one of his own royal 
 framing. But though George Heriot was too good a 
 courtier to interfere with the King's triumph, he darted 
 a look of some displeasure at Ritchie, who, encouraged 
 by the King, still held himself on the broad grin. 
 
 But on this occasion, as often before, the King's un- 
 certain temper suddenly turned against Ritchie, as soon 
 
 Q
 
 226 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 as he began to ask that, in consideration of the jewels 
 and other moneys, the King would be pleased to look 
 favourably upon the case of Lord Glenvarloch. 
 
 "Out with him, and pay him all his dues!" cried 
 the King; "what, sell my Justice ! Out with the fause 
 knave!" 
 
 And so presently Ritchie, no farther advanced appar- 
 ently, found himself on the street, while George Heriot 
 went back again to the King's chamber. 
 
 When George Heriot returned to the King's ante- 
 room, he found there the old Earl of Huntingtower. 
 The King was breaking some bad news to him, with 
 many Latin quotations. The old soldier grew some- 
 what restive under these, though he declared that if 
 the roughness of his nature did not enable him to bear 
 any trouble, he would try to eke out his courage with 
 a text of Scripture. He prayed James to tell hirn 
 what the calamity was. But the King, as was his 
 custom maundered off into the great pity it was that 
 Lord Huntingtower could not read the Scriptures in 
 the original, as he himself was used to do. But the 
 old warrior, waxing impatient, cut him short by saying 
 that if the telling of the bad news was to be put off till 
 he was capable of reading Hebrew like his Majesty, 
 it was to be feared that he would die in ignorance. 
 
 Whereupon the King informed him a little brusquely
 
 THE LAST TALE 227 
 
 that his son Dalgarno (whom he had thought a very 
 saint, being so much with Steenie and Baby Charles) 
 had turned out a very villain ! 
 
 11 Villain !" cried the old Earl. Then, checking him- 
 self instantly, he added in a lower tone "But it is 
 your Majesty that speaks the word !" 
 
 King James stepped back at the ring of the first 
 word as if he had received a blow. 
 
 "Yes," said the King, "it is indeed I who say so 
 read!" And he thrust a paper into Lord Hunting- 
 tower's hand, with the recommendation not to speak so 
 loud in the royal presence the King not being deaf. 
 
 The crime of Dalgarno had reference to his ill-usage 
 of the Lady Hermione, George Heriot's ward. Her 
 he had secretly married, then deserted and ill-treated. 
 Lastly, taking advantage of the different laws of the 
 countries, he had denied any marriage at all, and 
 would have handed her over to the Duke of Bucking- 
 ham who, though strongly prejudiced by Dalgarno 
 against the character of the Lady Hermione, never- 
 theless scorned to avail himself of her distress, even 
 giving her the means of getting out of her difficulties by 
 coming to England, where she found a strong pro- 
 tector in the old friend of her father, George Heriot, 
 the jeweller of Lombard Street. 
 
 "It was e'en like himseP blessings on his bonny
 
 228 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 face," cried the King, " and to tell the truth I believed 
 the lady's tale the mair that she spake nae ill o' Steenie ! 
 And it is the opinion of our council and ourselves, as 
 weel as of Baby Charles and Steenie, that your son 
 must marry this lady or undergo such disgrace and 
 discountenance as we can bestow." 
 
 For a time Lord Huntingtower stood like an ancient 
 statue of the times of chivalry every line of his body 
 immovable and rigid, his very eyelashes still and his 
 eyes seeing nothing. 
 
 The next moment, overcome by the news, he had 
 sunk to the ground with a heavy groan. 
 
 The King raised his old servant in his arms, and 
 wept over him unrestrainedly, comforting him with the 
 philosophy that Dalgarno was to marry a lady of good 
 birth, of ample wealth, and the most unspotted fame. 
 
 "I am sorry for it," said the embittered old man. 
 "It is long since I saw my son to be hard and selfish 
 but this ! I never dreamed that a blot like this would 
 have fallen on our race ! I will never look on his face 
 again!" 
 
 "Nonsense!" said the King; "on the contrary, you 
 must take him to task roundly." 
 
 But here the old Earl asked leave to retire. His grief 
 was not for the curious eyes of a court. 
 
 After he had departed the King began to tell Heriot
 
 THE LAST TALE 229 
 
 how, even before the very council, Dalgarno had bra- 
 zened it out till he heard of the lady's rich dowry. 
 "They gave him half an hour," said the King, "to read 
 the schedule of the bride's substance. I left Steenie 
 and Baby Charles laying his duty before him, and 
 if he can resist what they desire of him why, I only 
 wish he would teach me the gate o't ! Oh, Geordie, 
 Jingling Geordie, it was grand to hear Baby Charles 
 layin' doon the guilt of dissimulation, and Steenie lec- 
 turing on the evil of incontinence!" 
 
 "I am afraid," said Heriot, more hastily than pru- 
 dently, "that I might have thought of the old proverb 
 of Satan reproving sin." 
 
 At this moment the council was again summoned. 
 Dalgarno, still flouting them, sneered as much as he 
 dared, insulting even the King under the mask of 
 humility, making face to proud Buckingham, and hold- 
 ing himself as arrogantly as before, at last declared 
 himself willing to marry the Lady Hermione immedi- 
 ately in the Chapel Royal. Here he took his place 
 smilingly, as easy and unembarrassed as if he had been 
 in reality a willing and happy bridegroom. 
 
 According to the royal arrangement, Dalgarno and 
 the Lady Hermione were to live separately. A main- 
 tenance was to be allowed to Lady Dalgarno out of 
 her own money. Her husband was to have the rest.
 
 230 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 "But," he said, with haughty meaning in his tone, 
 "it was only a single line in the schedule which bribed 
 me to take that woman's hand in mine." 
 
 "That must have been the sum total," said the 
 King, at the same time telling his son to be quiet, that 
 he might the better hear what the "frontless loon" 
 would say. 
 
 "Not so, sire," said Dalgarno, "though no doubt the 
 sum total might have been an object to Scottish kings 
 at no distant date. It is the entry which gives me 
 power of vengeance over the family of Glenvarloch, and 
 the power of burning her mother's house to ashes." 
 
 The King asked Heriot what Dalgarno was speaking 
 about, but the latter continued, answering for himself. 
 
 "This friendly citizen, my liege," said he, indicating 
 Heriot, "hath expended a sum belonging to this lady 
 consequently to me. A certain mortgage has passed 
 into my hands, and if the money is not paid in to my 
 scrivener by noon to-morrow, I shall take possession 
 of all the properties of Glenvarloch, my house's enemy 
 and my own." 
 
 "But the warrant on our exchequer?" said the King 
 to Heriot. 
 
 "Lord Glenvarloch is a most unlucky youth," 
 Heriot answered ; "in the adventure which cost him 
 for a time your Majesty's favour, he lost the writing,
 
 THE LAST TALE 231 
 
 and now it cannot be found. From which it results 
 that even you, sire, cannot aid him without paying 
 your debts twice over!" 
 
 "I have scarce the means of paying them once, 
 Geordie!" said the King. 
 
 "I will take no advantage," said Dalgarno, "though 
 you give me news. I will wait till noon to-morrow, 
 and if any one will pay the money to my scrivener, 
 with whom the deeds lie, so much the better for Lord 
 Glenvarloch. If not, I shall travel forward on the 
 next day to take possession of my new estates in the 
 North!" 
 
 "Take a father's malison with you, unhappy wretch ! " 
 said Lord Huntingtower, turning away. 
 
 "And a King's, who is father of his country!" said 
 James. 
 
 "I trust to bear both lightly," said Dalgarno, bow- 
 ing and going out, leaving all a little overawed by such 
 determined effrontery. Lord Huntingtower took with 
 him his new daughter-in-law, and the sitting of the 
 Privy Council was continued, though the hour was 
 already late. 
 
 It was evident that the King was in mood for a speech. 
 He began by informing those present how he had come 
 to know all this. In the Tower he had caused to be 
 built a "King's lug," or ear, by sitting in which all the
 
 232 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 conversation of the prisoners in the next dungeon could 
 plainly be heard. Here the Prince cast a look of great 
 disgust at Buckingham. Buckingham shrugged his 
 shoulders, but so slightly that the motion was almost 
 imperceptible. 
 
 The King went on to relate how he had listened here 
 when Nigel was sent to the Tower. The King had 
 thus overheard his various talks with Margaret, with 
 Christie, with George Heriot, and with Sir Mungo 
 Malagrowther. In all which trials, said the speaker, 
 "Glenvarloch had acquitted himself nobly, never 
 uttering a word against his anointed King, and behav- 
 ing far better than you, Steenie, might not have been 
 tempted to do, for all your laughing." 
 
 "I am glad," said the favourite, "that you have 
 resolved to pardon Glenvarloch, though I never should 
 have dreamed of the way you arrived at the certainty 
 of his innocence." 
 
 "And I trust," said Prince Charles, "that it is not a 
 path that your Majesty will think consistent with your 
 high dignity to tread frequently." 
 
 "Never while I live again, Baby Charles," said the 
 King; "I give you my royal word for it ! The 'King's 
 lug' shall be instantly built up. You are right, 
 Baby Charles, the groans of the prisoner were never 
 intended to be brought in evidence against him the
 
 THE LAST TALE 233 
 
 more so that my royal back is sore with sitting for a 
 whole hour hearing ill tales of myself!" 
 
 The next day, a little after eleven, Andro Skirlie- 
 whitter, the former scrivener whom George Heriot 
 had employed (now grown rich, though not altogether 
 by honest means), waited eagerly the hour of twelve, 
 which would put his client Dalgarno in possession of 
 the Glenvarloch estates. But in this he was to be dis- 
 appointed. 
 
 Ritchie Monyplies, with Master Reginald Lowestoffe 
 and another Templar, arrived to be witnesses of the 
 payment of twenty bags of gold which Ritchie had 
 brought with him to redeem the Glenvarloch estates. 
 
 The scrivener wished to gain time by sending for 
 Lord Dalgarno. But the Templar knew better. Fi- 
 nally, the scrivener had to sit down there and then and 
 write a full receipt for the money offered. 
 
 As they went out they met Dalgarno, who told Ritchie 
 that if Glenvarloch was still of the same mind as to 
 their quarrel, he would meet him the next day on 
 Enfield Chase, on his way North, which would be a fitter 
 place than the park for fighting it out. 
 
 "If he is aught but an Alsatian bully, he will meet 
 me at Gamlot Moat ** he knows the place ; but if he
 
 234 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 fail to meet me there, your master must seek me in 
 Scotland, where he will find me possessed of all his 
 father's estates and properties." 
 
 Ritchie Monyplies had not the least intention of 
 doing this commission. Nigel would never hear a 
 word of the matter from him. 
 
 But when Dalgarno heard from his scrivener that 
 the money had been paid, he seized and shook the 
 wretched man till the collar of his black velvet suit 
 came away from the cassock. 
 
 Then Dalgarno, instantly changing his idea, resolved 
 to use the redemption money paid by Ritchie to hold the 
 castle of Glenvarloch against its owner. Accordingly, 
 he ordered the scrivener to find porters and send all 
 the gold to his lodging. 
 
 But before the money could be got off, the scoundrel, 
 Captain Colepepper, entered. He had been at the kill- 
 ing of Trapbois most probably the actual murderer, 
 or so at least his daughter thought. It had, however, 
 been by means of Andro Skirliewhitter that the gang 
 got wind of the manner of entering the apartment of 
 the miser. It had been previously arranged that Trap- 
 bois was to steal (and actually did steal) the parchment 
 on which the King's order on the treasury in favour of 
 Glenvarloch was written. This would be one barrier 
 the more in the way of Nigel redeeming his estates.
 
 THE LAST TALE 235 
 
 But the sudden appearance of Nigel on the scene of 
 the murder had disconcerted their plans. Now, how- 
 ever, Colepepper, advised by Skirliewhitter, saw that 
 the halting of Dalgarno at Camlot Moat was an ex- 
 ceedingly good chance of getting the money which had 
 been paid by Ritchie Monyplies. 
 
 For Colepepper had become a common highwayman, 
 and it was easy for him to get a fine lot of rascals about 
 him : Black Feltham, Dick Shakebag that made 
 three and another yet to be found. 
 
 "The thing is well worth the doing, however it may 
 turn out," said the scrivener to himself, after he had 
 got rid of Colepepper by giving him two gold pieces. 
 "If the ruffian fails, then he cannot tug longer at my 
 purse-strings because of that matter at Whitefriars. 
 If Lord Dalgarno dies, as is most likely then I am 
 in a thousand ways safe safe safe !" 
 
 Meanwhile, after dining his two witnesses well at 
 Beaujeu's, Ritchie was returning eastwards when he met 
 Jin Vin, once 'prentice to David Ramsay, but now far 
 down the hill, having taken to gambling and lost his 
 all. 
 
 Worst of all, and the cause of all, he had lost Margaret 
 Ramsay. He had loved her long, and from the first 
 had cherished the hope that a tight 'prentice might yet 
 live to marry his master's daughter.
 
 236 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 But now, when he met Ritchie Monyplies, he had 
 most surprising news to tell. No less than that the King 
 had meddled in the matter, and that ever since he had 
 seen her in her boy's dress it was Peg-a-Ramsay 
 this and Peg-a-Ramsay that other. He had even 
 found a grand pedigree for her, and she was to be 
 married to Nigel, Lord Glenvarloch. 
 
 Of this, however, Ritchie would at first believe noth- 
 ing at all, the idea of a great Scottish lord marrying 
 the daughter of a city mechanic being to him absurd ! 
 
 "Speak civilly," cried Jin Vin, at once taking fire; 
 "she is the prettiest girl between the Bar and Paul's 
 I will uphold it ! But now the King has made her into 
 a kind of gentlewoman, takes an interest in the match, 
 and runs about cackling like an old gander about 
 Peggie, ever since he hath seen her in hose and doublet ! 
 And no wonder!" added poor Jin Vin, with a 
 sigh. 
 
 "But are ye sure ye have lost her?" repeated Ritchie, 
 in whose ears the whole matter sounded strange and 
 incredible. 
 
 "Why, no sooner was my Lord clear of the Tower," 
 said the ex-apprentice, "than there came Master Heriot 
 direct from the King to propose for her, and our old 
 dullard watchmaker multiplied six figures progressively 
 and then gave his consent!"
 
 THE LAST TALE 237 
 
 "And what did you do, Jin Vin?" asked Ritchie. 
 
 "I rushed out of the shop half mad. And, in search 
 for counsel, I went across the road to Dame Ursula 
 Suddlechop, who had promised me many a time that I 
 should have Margaret. And all that she could suggest 
 was that I should go 'on the road' with that villain 
 Colepepper that is, turn highwayman like him!" 
 
 "Ah," said Ritchie, "if you can tell me anything 
 about that smaik, ye will be doing me a very sincere 
 service, Master Jenkin!" 
 
 "Oh, as to that, the woman spoke of my meeting 
 him on Enfield Chase with some other 'good fellows' 
 to do a robbery on a nobleman who rides northward 
 with a great treasure." 
 
 Upon this Ritchie thought awhile, and then, suddenly 
 enlightened, asked if Jin Vin would not join him in a 
 little private expedition to Enfield Chase. He knew 
 that Reginald Lowestoffe and his friend Ringwood, 
 the Templar, would readily be of the party, if there 
 were blows going. These four would go out and see 
 if the true men could not in their turn rob the 
 thieves. 
 
 At the appointed time Dalgarno rode northward with 
 only a lady and a little page in their company, but at 
 the entrance of the Chase they dismounted and walked 
 together through the woodland to a mound known as
 
 238 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 Camlot Moat. Here he was resolved to meet with 
 Glenvarloch, to fight, and if possible to kill him in 
 which case he would go to Scotland, with some at least 
 of his former credit restored and sufficient gold to sus- 
 tain it. 
 
 But though the four riders meant to reach the spot 
 of the intended robbery first, they came too late. They 
 had not calculated upon the robbers beginning with 
 murder, which indeed was not the custom of English 
 highwaymen, though the common practice abroad. 
 
 The rescuers arrived at full gallop on the field the 
 very moment when the first shot was fired. Ritchie 
 Monyplies, for his own reasons, desired to hold immedi- 
 ate count and reckoning with Captain Colepepper. 
 The Captain, by a quick attack, dismounted Ritchie, 
 who, truth to tell, was not altogether at home upon a 
 horse. But Monyplies, nothing daunted by his fall, 
 struck at him with the knife he had wrenched from 
 the villain's hand, and then killed him instantly with 
 the blow of the butt of a musketoon. 
 
 Lowestoffe had put his opponent to flight when the 
 other Templar suddenly called out, "If ye be men, 
 come hither, here lies Lord Dalgarno, murdered!" 
 
 Lowestoffe and Ritchie ran to the spot, where pres- 
 ently the whole company stood gazing with horror on 
 the dead body of the wicked young nobleman.
 
 THE LAST TALE 239 
 
 As for Lutin, the page, he had disappeared with 
 ["With the loot!" said Sir Toady the incorrigible.] 
 
 The marriage of Nigel and Margaret was to be graced 
 by the presence of the King himself. James, when he 
 could get his way, loved all manner of comfortable inti- 
 macies with his subjects. He was a homely monarch 
 and in his way a diplomatist. He laboured with his 
 own royal eyes to find out Margaret Ramsay's pedigree, 
 till (so he said) he nearly wore out a pair of her father's 
 best barnacles. And one day when Sir Mungo Mala- 
 growther was bemoaning in the royal presence the pity 
 it was that so fair a maid had no pedigree, the King 
 cut him short with: "Ye may save your grief for your 
 ain next occasions. For, by our royal saul, we will 
 uphaud her father, David Ramsay, to be a gentleman 
 of nine descents, whose great-grandsire came of the 
 auld martial stock of Dalwolsey!" 
 
 Accordingly the King came to the wedding, on the 
 providing of which George Heriot had spent his means 
 freely. James had so manoeuvred that both the Prince 
 and Buckingham had been despatched on a mission 
 to Newmarket. Thus he might indulge himself in 
 the homely gossiping habits which were as dear to him 
 as they were distasteful to his formal son and haughty 
 favourite.
 
 240 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 After preparing his master for his marriage, and giving 
 his locks "the last touch of the redding comb," Ritchie 
 Monyplies kneeled down, kissed Nigel's hand, and 
 asked leave to discharge himself of his lordship's service. 
 
 "I suppose," said Nigel, smiling, "that you mean to 
 enter that of my wife." 
 
 "I wish her good ladyship that is to be, and you, my 
 master, in time the blessing of as good a servant as 
 myself. But fate has so ordered it that I can only be 
 your servant in the way of friendly courtesy." 
 
 "Let it be according to your will, Ritchie," said Nigel, 
 and thought no more about his servant's whims, upon 
 that day of all days in the year. 
 
 The marriage took place in St. Paul's. The King 
 himself gave away the bride to the great relief of 
 her father, who thus had time to calculate the exact 
 quotient for a report-wheel in a timepiece he was then 
 putting together. 
 
 By special permission of the King, Ritchie Monyplies 
 was allowed to enter the splendid Foljambe apartments 
 in Heriot's house in Lombard Street, where James was 
 delighting himself in his freedom mumping, gossip- 
 ing, ambling hither and thither, and cracking jests, 
 all to the accompaniment of his own sturdy laughter. 
 On first entering, the King had thrown down his hat, 
 cast off his belt and sword as if they burnt his fingers,
 
 THE LAST TALE 241 
 
 and now in safe and congenial society, he was enjoying 
 himself, as perhaps he had never done since the old 
 days in Holyrood. 
 
 Upon receiving an assurance that Ritchie Monyplies 
 did not come seeking his money, James caused him to 
 be admitted at once his name was sent up. 
 
 Hardly had he done speaking when the door opened, 
 and to the great surprise of Lord Glenvarloch, his late 
 serving-man, Ritchie Monyplies, entered, gorgeously 
 attired in a superb brocaded suit, and leading by the 
 hand who but Martha Trapbois, all in black velvet, 
 strangely enough suited to the severe melancholy of her 
 countenance. 
 
 "What the deil," exclaimed the King, "has the fellow 
 brought here ? Is it a corpse that has run off with the 
 mort-cloth?" 
 
 "May I sifflicate your Majesty to be gracious unto 
 her?" said Ritchie, "being as she is my ain wedded 
 wife, Mistress Martha Monyplies!" 
 
 "Saul o' my body, man, but she is wondrous grim," 
 answered the King; "she looks as though in her time 
 she might have been maid of honour to Queen Mary, 
 our kinswoman of red-hot memory!" 
 
 "She has brought me fifty thousand pounds in good 
 siller and better," said Ritchie, "and that has enabled 
 me to pleasure both your Majesty and other folk."
 
 242 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 "How came you by her?" said the King, who did 
 not like such topics as the owing of money. 
 
 "In the auld Scottish fashion, my liege," said Ritchie ; 
 "she is the captive of my bow and spear. There was a 
 convention that I should wed Mistress Martha when I 
 avenged her father's death. So I slew, and took pos- 
 session !" 
 
 His bride drew out a bundle of parchments, and de- 
 livering them to Lord Glenvarloch, said aloud, "I take 
 this royal presence and all here to witness that I restore 
 the ransomed lordship of Glenvarloch to the rightful 
 owner, in all respects as ever it was held by any of his 
 ancestors." 
 
 "I witnessed the redemption of the mortgage," said 
 Lowestoffe, "though I little dreamed by whom it was 
 redeemed." 
 
 "There would have been small service in crying, 
 'Roast-meat,' when such gallants as you were abroad !" 
 said Ritchie, unabashed. 
 
 "Peace," said his wife; "I have here yet another 
 paper!" And she placed in Nigel's hand the original 
 order of the King upon the Scottish exchequer the 
 same which had so long been lost. 
 
 "My lord," she said, "it was not only the piece of 
 gold which brought my father to your room that fatal 
 night, but also the hope of purloining this paper."
 
 THE LAST TALE 243 
 
 Then the King, who loved not such stories, cut short 
 this one by complimenting Martha on her husband's 
 wit and bravery. 
 
 "There are fools who have wit," she made answer, 
 "but I chose this man, because he was my protector 
 when I was desolate. He is truly honest and has a 
 heart and hand that make amends for some follies. 
 Since I am compelled to find a protector, I thank God 
 I have fallen on no worse !" 
 
 "Let us see if we cannot make him better," said the 
 King. "Lend me your rapier, somebody you, Mas- 
 ter Langstaff; do not flash it out that gate, Templar 
 fashion, as if you were about to pink a bailiff !" 
 
 The King took the drawn sword, and with averted 
 eyes laid it on the shoulder of Ritchie, who, taken by 
 surprise, tried to rise, but was held down by Lowestoffe. 
 
 "Rise up, Sir Richard Monyplies of Castle Collop !" 
 he said. "And now, my lords and lieges, let us to 
 our dinner, for the cock-a-leekie is cooling." 
 
 "And what came of Jin Vin?" said Sir Toady, who 
 had an affection for that bold 'prentice. 
 
 Sweetheart answered him gravely. 
 
 "He went back, turned a good boy, stuck to his 
 work, and, after David Ramsay had retired, took
 
 244 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 over the business along with his fellow-apprentice 
 Tunstall. In fact," concluded Sweetheart, "he lived 
 happily ever after!" 
 
 "Found out how silly it was to bother about a girl, 
 I suppose," said Sir Toady, ungratefully; "as if there 
 were not lots!" 
 
 THE END OF SWEETHEART'S "TALES FROM THE FOR- 
 TUNES OF NIGEL"
 
 HUGH JOHN PREPARES TO TELL HIS TALE 
 
 "SAY," preluded Sir Toady Lion, looking if there 
 was a safe way out of the wood, if the worst came to 
 the worst, "say, you ones, Sis has stopped being too 
 awful good. She doesn't get up to go to morning church 
 on week-days any more not since she has been to 
 school. Now she lies longer in bed, has to wait for her 
 bath, and so is late for breakfast instead." 
 
 "Well, what business is it of yours, Toadums?" 
 Hugh John smiled a stern, repressive smile. "What do 
 you mean by it, anyway?" 
 
 "Oh, only that she tells a better story. I like her 
 style better!" 
 
 "Conceited little beast! I'll teach you to like any- 
 thing you are not told to like by your elders and betters ! " 
 
 Butcher Donnan nodded his head. Nothing like dis- 
 cipline in families ! Better a little too much than any 
 short weight. These were his principles, business and 
 domestic. 
 
 We were all seated down at the Feudal Tower, 
 Sweetheart keeping a little retired with a person of 
 her confidence where they could exchange whispers 
 without being seen by the boys; the youngers, male 
 
 247
 
 248 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 and female after their kind, a-sprawl on the green 
 grass Butcher Donnan, John Chesnay, and the 
 Poacher Elphie seated amicably on the wall. 
 
 "Well," said Hugh John, "father says that if the 
 rest of us tell the story, just as we would to one another, 
 little mistakes won't be counted, and we will get our 
 sov all the same ! Sweetheart thinks this quite fair, 
 because she has a better memory." 
 
 Hugh John looked over at Sweetheart, who stopped 
 whispering to nod back. That young lady was rich 
 beyond the dreams of avarice her claims having 
 been commuted for two sovereigns cash, and other 
 three towards her dress account, which last item the 
 boys, who got their school outfit given them, considered 
 as good as nothing at all. 
 
 "I am to tell the story just as I like, and if anyone 
 interrupts " 
 
 "No one shall interrupt !" I said hastily, fearing that 
 the sounds of war might delay Hugh John's first tale. 
 
 THE FIRST TALE OF QUENTIN DURWARD'S 
 ADVENTURES AS THESE APPEARED TO HUGH 
 JOHN 
 
 Of course (said Hugh John) in the book there's 
 a lot of stuff that is no good to a boy. I left that out.
 
 THE SCOTS ADVENTURER 249 
 
 But I read the notes they were prime. It is a good 
 plan to read the notes first, and then you can wade 
 through the story after oh, ever so much easier 
 lovemaking and all! 
 
 [Various murmurings arose. 
 
 "Why don't you go on, then? Quit yarning about 
 nothing! I don't believe he can at all! He's 
 funking ! " 
 
 Hugh John cast a sort of promissory note to each of 
 the interrupters and plunged at once into medias res.] 
 
 He had chosen Quentin Durward by a sort of in- 
 stinct, the character, indeed, in some degree resembling 
 his own adventurous, self-reliant, and with a strong 
 sense of personal dignity, which would not render 
 his passage through the world the easier. 
 
 THE SCOTS ADVENTURER 
 
 It begins (said Hugh John) about a young Scottish 
 fellow like us, or maybe a bit older, who had gone 
 to France to push his fortune. Fellows didn't go into 
 offices then. I bet you, no. Quentin Durward didn't, 
 anyhow. He had learned all about how to use the sword 
 and the single-stick and everything like that up in 
 Glen Houlakin, where he came from. This is to say, 
 the Glen of the Midges. But a fellow can't live on 
 midges (though midges can on you), and like all the
 
 250 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 other young Scots of his time he went abroad to seek 
 for a chance to fight under the banner of some great 
 lord or another. 
 
 ["Why didn't he stay at home and join the army or 
 the navy?" said Sir Toady, who believed in patriotism.] 
 
 Because there weren't any (said Hugh John, 
 informed by the notes, and by information about 
 Louis XI, laboriously spelled out of Lavisse), and 
 besides, if you wanted to be anybody in the Scottish 
 wars with England, you had got to go and learn all 
 about it first from the French or the Emperor's people 
 what we call the Austrians now. But they called 
 themselves Emperors of Rome, which was all in my 
 eye. 
 
 Well, there was this young Quentin in France, and 
 he felt pretty gay, for though he was hungry, it was 
 a fine morning. His clothes were all right, only a bit 
 worn, like your "footer" things after two winters 
 
 ["Or a sixth termer's cap!" interjected Sir Toady, 
 "brushed but bashed."] 
 
 Quentin had wristlets and pouches for flying a hawk, 
 but carried no bird. In his smart blue bonnet there 
 was an eagle's feather, and by his side a long hunting- 
 knife in a sheath. 
 
 Well, he sailed along, saying, " So ho, you fellows ! " 
 like that, to all the world, and wishing it was breakfast
 
 THE SCOTS ADVENTURER 251 
 
 time, when, presently, he came to a river. This was 
 swollen with the floods, and he shouted out to two 
 men on the farther side to know if the ford were 
 passable. 
 
 They did not answer ; so, taking it for granted, in he 
 went. 
 
 But it wasn't, not by chalks. These two were regular 
 old soldiers, and didn't care a lump of mud whether 
 Quentin got drowned or not. However, he managed 
 to scrape through all right. But, naturally, he was as 
 mad as a hatter when he got there, and threatened to 
 crack the crown of the one who went to help him out. 
 What for? For not telling him, of course. 
 
 He made his hunter's pole twirl like mill-flappers 
 about the man's head, till the elder, an old fellow, 
 very well dressed, who was called Master Pierre, said 
 to himself that if he did not hurry up, the young fellow 
 would "beat his Gossip for the only charitable action 
 he had ever seen him do in all his life!" 
 
 And he was just in time. For Quentin had begun 
 to call names 
 
 ["What were the names?" said Toady Lion, who 
 wished to enlarge his verbal armoury for future occa- 
 sions.] 
 
 Oh, he just said, "Discourteous dog!" same as I 
 might call you "Mean Little Pig!" before thumping
 
 252 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 you (explained Hugh John). It comes just to the 
 same thing. 
 
 So Master Pierre said that Quentin was a young ass 
 for quarrelling with a man who was going to help him, 
 and that he did not speak French well enough to make 
 them understand what he wanted, and a lot of grown 
 folks' taffy like that of which Quentin believed just 
 as much as he pleased. 
 
 But as this Master Pierre was a decent old chap to 
 look at, and his father had taught him to speak re- 
 spectfully to people older than himself, Quentin an- 
 swered that he would not have cared a "dockan" leaf 
 about the ducking he had got, only he thought they 
 were cheeking him or at least that the younger 
 (whom Master Pierre called his "Gossip") was. 
 
 Well, the old fellow, who did not look quite so grim 
 as his surly " Gossip," offered Quentin a good break- 
 fast, to call things square, and you had better believe 
 that Quentin was pretty glad to hear about it. For 
 he was hungry as a hawk, and he knew by the look of 
 Master Pierre that he must be a citizen of the neigh- 
 bouring town of Tours, and pretty well caulked with 
 coin, too a money- broker or banker, maybe, like those 
 Medici fellows in Florence. But the " Gossip" had
 
 THE SCOTS ADVENTURER 253 
 
 a butcherly, sullen look about him, as if he could not 
 only eat but would have liked to kill and eat too. 
 
 Well, the first old boy went on talking all the time 
 like one o'clock, and Mr. Butcher followed, saying 
 not a word. Quentin felt sure that they were burgesses 
 of Tours, and suspected that the elder was a bit of 
 a miser. For at that time everybody who was any- 
 body had a badge of gold or silver in his cap, and 
 Master Pierre only wore an image of the Virgin in 
 lead, like what poor pilgrims bring back from Loretto. 
 
 ["Who was headmaster there then?" Toady Lion 
 called out. 
 
 "You dry up, Toad ; it wasn't that Loretto, and you 
 know it!" said Hugh John, lowering his voice for 
 a second.] 
 
 And Master Pierre asked him what he was doing 
 with all that hawking tackle, when no hawking was 
 permitted on a royal chase. 
 
 "I was taught that lesson," said Quentin, "when 
 a rascal forester of the Duke of Burgundy shot the 
 falcon I had brought with me from Scotland near 
 Peronne." 
 
 "And what did you do?" said the merchant. 
 
 "I whacked him beat him, I mean as near to 
 death as one Christian may another without having 
 his blood to answer for ! "
 
 254 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 "But don't you know," asked the merchant, "that 
 if the Duke of Burgundy had caught you, he would 
 have hung you up like a chestnut to a tree?" 
 
 "Ay, sir," he answered ; "I guessed as much, and so 
 I skipped over the frontier pretty quick before I began 
 to laugh!" 
 
 "The Duke will miss sorely such a paladin as you 
 are, if the truce breaks with the King of France ! " 
 said the elder of the two. 
 
 Then, of course, Quentin saw that they were making 
 a fool of him, and he got mad. So would nearly every 
 chap. 
 
 "Now," he said, "I have stood a lot because you are 
 older than I, and I can be polite as well as the next 
 fellow. But I've had enough of your sauce, and I am 
 man enough to thrash the pair of you, if you give me 
 any more of it." 
 
 Something like that he said, and Master Pierre 
 seemed nearly to choke with laughter. But the Master 
 Butcher laid his hand on his sword, as if it was no 
 sport to him. He was going to draw it, but just then 
 Quentin, who had a pretty quick eye, dropped the end 
 of his hunting pole across his wrist. This touched 
 him up sharply, so that he could not grasp his sword- 
 hilt. 
 
 "Come, no more violence," said Master Pierre;
 
 THE SCOTS ADVENTURER 255 
 
 "drop it, you Scot, and you, Gossip, take that frown 
 off your face ! You have got to cry quits, both of you 
 the ducking against the rap on the wrist. The 
 game is called all square. And now let's go to break- 
 fast!" 
 
 That was the gist of what he said. Oh, yes, and he 
 asked Quentin if he was a born gentleman, and he 
 told him yes by fifteen descents. 
 
 So when old Pierre heard this, he said that he was 
 "a proper Scot plenty of blood, plenty of pride, 
 and a great scarcity of cash ! And now for a hunter's 
 mass at Saint Hubert's chapel, and then breakfast ! " 
 
 The service was not long just a hunter's mass, 
 and out again. Master Pierre told Quentin not to 
 stray off the path, because all the ground about the 
 royal chateau was chock full of pitfalls and traps 
 scythes that came together and snipped off your legs 
 before you could say well, pasques-dieu or ventre- 
 gris, or any of the things that used to relieve great folk 
 so much in those times oh, and calthrops that stuck 
 your foot through, and pitfalls that buried you alive, 
 and any number of things, all to keep you at a good 
 distance from Louis, King of France. 
 
 But Quentin said that if he were King of France, he 
 would do away with all those wolf-traps, and trust 
 to the valour of Scottish gentlemen. He would call
 
 256 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 about him all the brave and the wise, and reign so 
 justly that there would be no need for hiding behind 
 ditches and barricades. 
 
 Then Master Pierre smiled, but more kindly and 
 tolerantly, as if he liked Quentin even his cheek in 
 thus giving advice to the King of France. He asked 
 how he would like being a Royal Archer of the Scottish 
 Guard, dressed like a prince, fed high like an abbot, 
 and set close about the King's person in peace and war. 
 
 "If I had any such thought," Quentin said, "it is 
 off ! " Master Pierre was much surprised and asked why. 
 
 "Because I am like the Douglas," he said; "I like 
 to hear the lark sing better than the mouse squeak. 
 I would not love to be stuck in a swallow's nest, nor 
 kept mewed up in a guard-room. Moreover, I like 
 not a castle of which the gateway oak bears such acorns 
 as yon!" 
 
 And he pointed at a fair tree from which dangled 
 the dead body of a man in a grey jerkin like his own. 
 
 But Master Pierre answered that if he lived to be 
 a loyal subject of his Prince, no perfume would be so 
 sweet to him as the scent of a dead traitor. 
 
 Quentin answered boldly that that would be after he 
 lost the sight of his eyes and the scent of his nostrils ; 
 and at any rate, if he were King Louis, he would hang 
 the rascals somewhat farther from his palace.
 
 THE SCOTS ADVENTURER 257 
 
 But Quentin was quite reconciled when at last they 
 reached the little inn where they were to have break- 
 fast ready for them. There was something about 
 Master Pierre which he could not quite understand. 
 The landlord did not chatter, or recommend his dishes 
 to him. He only bowed when Master Pierre asked 
 him if a gentleman had ordered breakfast. 
 
 Not only breakfast, but a fire also was waiting. 
 Master Pierre did not eat much himself, but he watched 
 with a kind of pleasure Quentin marching deep into 
 the bowels of a mighty pasty, making little of ragouts, 
 balls of French bread, cups of wine, confections, and 
 lots of other things. It was a noble feed, and after he 
 had got through with it, Quentin thought the coun- 
 tenance of Master Pierre looked far more kindly than 
 before. 
 
 Then after Quentin had been drawn out to declare 
 that the Wild Boar of the Ardennes was a captain of 
 pillagers, and the Duke of Gueldres a man who had 
 ill-used his own father, Master Pierre said laughingly 
 that he had better become a captain himself for 
 where would one find a chieftain wise enough to 
 command him? 
 
 Of course Quentin Durward knew that Master 
 Pierre was making fun, but this time he took no offence, 
 and only lamented that Saint Quentin must have for-
 
 258 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 gotten his son, to let him go a day without food and 
 then get a ducking into the bargain. 
 
 Just as Master Pierre was taking Quentin to task for 
 blaspheming the saints, and telling him that perhaps 
 the blessed Quentin had done better for him than he 
 knew, a girl came in. She was pretty, of course, and 
 the name which Master Pierre called her was Jacque- 
 line no, not the usual sort of story-book girl so 
 there ! Oh, no, she went about like a princess some- 
 thing like the girls in the Latin grammar examples. 
 
 ["Humph," said Sir Toady, "a jolly lot of princesses 
 you have ever seen !" 
 
 " You had a heap better " began Hugh John, but 
 did not pursue his threat. "That's what Sir Walter 
 says, and you may bet that he knew oh, ton-loads 
 of them!" 
 
 "Pshaw," continued Sir Toady, "I've seen them 
 come to the Coll. to visit some of our chaps, and 
 they are just like other people, only with less side!" 
 
 "Well," continued Hugh John, doggedly, "that 
 wasn't the kind of princess Jacqueline was. She was 
 dark and had eyes " 
 
 "7 don't like 'em blind myself!" said Sir Toady, 
 with the air of a blast connoisseur, "but fair and 
 ooop, with curling ringlets, be-loo eyes, and lips like 
 a cherry. Only I'd rather have the cherry!"
 
 THE SCOTS ADVENTURER 259 
 
 "Sir Toady," said I, severely, "I don't care whether 
 Hugh John thrashes you afterwards or not, but if you 
 interrupt again like that, for no proper cause, you shall 
 not have even a chance for the sovereign you un- 
 derstand?" 
 
 The youth understood. The bats and cuffs of 
 glorious uncivil war he could support with an equal 
 mind, but this was his money and his life.] 
 
 ******* 
 
 Master Pierre spoke harshly to the girl, even accus- 
 ing her of not telling the truth. This made Quentin 
 angry, and he declared that he would throw down his 
 gage to any one who would dare to say that such a face 
 could be otherwise than true and pure ! Privately 
 Quentin had made up his mind that he would like 
 to see again the girl with the black eyebrows. He 
 ordered a flagon of fine verndt, and, as was then the 
 custom, sent it by the landlord, with the compliments 
 of Quentin Durward of Glen Houlakin, a Scottish 
 cavalier, to the girl and her guardian. 
 
 It was a rum thing to do (Hugh John admitted), but 
 they did that sort of thing and thought nothing of it in 
 those days. However, the flask of wine was sent back 
 with a civil message that the ladies could not receive 
 it. They thanked him very much only, as they were
 
 2 6o RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 * 
 
 residing there in privacy, they could not receive his 
 visit. 
 
 "All the same," thought Quentin, "I will see that 
 girl with the dark brows again, whatever it costs." 
 
 Then the landlord showed Quentin up to his chamber. 
 It was in a corner tower, everything nice, and looked 
 to him quite like a little palace. Quentin, you see, 
 had had pretty rough sleeping-quarters for a while, and 
 as for food, as often as not he had to do without any 
 at all especially since he lost his falcon near Peronne. 
 
 Of course he went to the window and looked out as 
 soon as he could. He could see the towers of the 
 royal castle of Plessy, where his uncle Lesly served as 
 one of the guards of the King of France. But instead 
 of looking if he could see him on the walls, do you 
 know what Quentin did? 
 
 [Apparently nobody knew at least all were silent.] 
 
 He actually set to watching a window, a lattice 
 window of the inn (tone of contempt), yes, with all 
 that big castle right before his nose, with its defences, 
 and the men of the Royal Guard walking about on top 
 of it, their halberds shining and the plumes on their 
 bonnets waving. 
 
 And all because the girl was singing you know 
 the song, Sis sing it to us. You said you would 
 when I got to the part.
 
 THE SCOTS ADVENTURER 261 
 
 And from behind, aided by the deeper notes of 
 contralto, Sweetheart piped like a blackbird, while Sir 
 Toady twanged on an imaginary lute and said tink- 
 a-tank as often as he dared. 
 
 This was the song: 
 
 "Ah, County Guy, the hour is nigh, 
 
 The sun has left the lea, 
 The orange flower perfumes the bower, 
 
 The breeze is on the sea. 
 The lark his lay who trilled all day, 
 
 Sits hushed, his partner nigh, 
 Breeze, bird, and flower, confess the hour 
 
 But where is County Guy? 
 
 The village maid steals through the shade 
 
 Her shepherd's suit to hear; 
 To beauty shy, by lattice high, 
 
 Sings high-born Cavalier. 
 The Star of Love, all stars above, 
 
 Now reigns o'er earth and sky; 
 And high and low the influence know 
 
 But where is County Guy? " 
 
 Thank you, Sis (said Hugh John), that's about 
 it, and it would have been all the better without Sir 
 Toadum's confounded tink-a-tank for which, in due 
 season, I shall whale him. 
 
 Well, Quentin leaned out to have a look at the girl 
 no, not to fling a clothes'-brush, Master Toadums 
 you are heaping up wrath just you wait, my son !
 
 262 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 But as soon as the singer had twigged him at the 
 window, down went the curtain, and Master Quentin 
 saw no more of the girl he was in such a fret about. 
 
 Now (he concluded), that's about all I can tell just 
 at one time. It is ever so nice the way I get it in my 
 head to tell, but when it comes out, and I have to say 
 the words, it sounds just drivelling ! 
 
 "Surely you don't think that a sov's worth?" sneered 
 Sir Toady. 
 
 "Oh, no," cried Hugh John, distressed at the sug- 
 gestion ; "all that I shall have to tell out of the whole 
 book won't be worth so much!" 
 
 "Mine will, though whole purses full!" said 
 Sir Toady, who saw no good in undervaluing his 
 merchandise beforehand. 
 
 "Oh, wait till you try!" said Hugh John. "It's 
 easier to think you can do it than to do it." 
 
 And so the first Red Cap seance of Quentin Dur- 
 ward down at the old Feudal Tower was broken up. 
 
 THE SECOND TALE OF QUENTIN DURWARD 
 
 THE GUARDSMAN OF THE SCOTTISH ARCHERS 
 
 You just believe (said Hugh John) that Uncle 
 Lesly looked fine when Quentin went down to see him 
 next morning. They met in the room where he had
 
 GUARDSMAN OF THE SCOTTISH ARCHERS 263 
 
 breakfasted. He was called Le Balafre", or the 
 Scarred One, because of a great wound which had but 
 partly healed, going from the brow to the ear, across 
 one side of his face. 
 
 But he looked martial, I tell you, and his dress was 
 still finer. On his head was a Scottish bonnet, tufted 
 with feathers, with a Virgin in silver for a brooch. 
 Then came the body armour, all of the finest steel. 
 His shirt of mail glittered like frost-work. Over all he 
 wore a loose surcoat of blue velvet open at the sides, 
 with the cross of Saint Andrew barred across it. He 
 had hose of mail and shoes of steel. A broad dagger 
 was at his side, and in his hand a huge two-handed 
 sword, which the rules of his service forbade him to 
 lay aside. 
 
 This Le Balafre had a squire, a valet, a page, and 
 a coutelier, or "Happy Despatcher," all in his suite, 
 the last for the purpose of finishing the work which 
 his master had begun in case of a battle or skir- 
 mish. 
 
 Over a tankard of wine the Scarred One asked about 
 his sister and her family. He was surprised, but not 
 very much cast down, by the news that now Glen 
 Houlakin was a wilderness, that his sister was dead and 
 all their kin, that his father, uncle, and most of the 
 clan had been slain in a fight with the Ogilvies of
 
 264 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 Angus the whole strath harried by these Ogilvies, 
 and not a reeking hearth nor a standing stone left in 
 Glen Houlakin. 
 
 His uncle said that such was the fortune of war, 
 and sent some links of his gold chain to pay for masses 
 for the souls of his dead kindred, and part more to 
 pay for curses on the Ogilvies of Angus-shire "in the 
 best way that the Church might come at them." 
 
 But he did not seem to think it was necessary to 
 open his purse to his nephew, which made Quentin 
 think that perhaps, after all, he would have done better 
 to have stayed with the Duke of Burgundy, than have 
 come here to find an uncle so completely wrapped up 
 in himself. 
 
 But the Scarred One meant better than he said, and 
 ended by telling his nephew to be at the castle by eight 
 the following morning, to keep the straight path, and 
 to ask the sentinel on duty for Ludovic le Balafre. 
 
 But Quentin came near never going to the castle of 
 Plessy at all. That same day he was taking a walk 
 along the riverside when he saw a man being hanged 
 on a tree. There were some talismanic marks on the 
 bark, meant to represent a fleur-de-lys the royal 
 emblem. But, knowing nothing of this, Quentin ran 
 quickly and cut the man down. He was a gipsy, but 
 already too far gone to bring round again. The whole
 
 GUARDSMAN OF THE SCOTTISH ARCHERS 265 
 
 tribe were upon Quentin in an instant. For a while 
 he was in danger of his life, till some French soldiers 
 charged down upon them, and captured Quentin 
 like the rest. 
 
 Master Pierre's "Gossip," whose wrist he had 
 cracked with his pole, was at the head of them. He 
 would listen to no argument, but ordered him to be 
 strung up along with the others. 
 
 And strung up Quentin would certainly have been, 
 but for one of the Scottish Guard, which was at feud 
 with the Provost Marshal and his men. 
 
 Cunningham was the man's name who saved him. 
 He drew his long sword, with one touch of his weapon 
 cutting Quentin's bonds and setting him free. Where- 
 upon Quentin wrenched a halberd from the nearest 
 marshal's man, and putting his back to Cunningham's, 
 bade the others come on if they dared. 
 
 Accordingly the third executioner was sent after the 
 Provost Marshal, and the second undertook to keep 
 the two Scots in the place where they were that is, 
 if they could. 
 
 But at the same time as the Provost Marshal came in 
 sight, riding round one side of the hill, half a dozen 
 Scottish archers rode up, with Le Balafre at their head. 
 
 And when he saw Quentin and his comrade standing 
 on their defence, he called out, "Thank you, Cun-
 
 266 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 ningham ! Gentlemen, comrades, lend me your aid ! 
 It is a young Scottish gentleman, my own sister's son 
 Lindsay Guthrie Tyrie draw and strike in !" 
 
 It was touch-and-go for the prettiest fight you ever 
 saw. The Marshal's men were most in number, but 
 the Scottish Archers were the better armed. 
 
 Le Balafre' and the rest would hear nothing from the 
 Provost Marshal. They would be judged only by the 
 King or their own Captain. They would be hanged by 
 none but Sandie Wilson, the Marshal's man of their 
 own body, who, they said, was as decent a man as ever 
 tied noose upon hemp. 
 
 "Our Privileges our Privileges ! " they called out, 
 with force enough to daunt even Tristan PHermite, 
 the famous Justicer of the King of France. 
 
 "Whatever your privileges may be," said the Provost 
 Marshal, "this young man is not of you! He is not 
 an Archer of the Guard Royal." 
 
 "Stand to it yet, countrymen," whispered Cun- 
 ningham; "say he is enrolled with us." Whereupon 
 Le Balafre swore to it, and parting with the angry 
 Provost Tristan, they went back at once to find Lord 
 Crawford, the Captain of the Royal Scottish Guard, 
 an old man, but still stout and strong, though on the 
 borders of eighty. 
 
 He had ridden into Orleans with the Maid, Dunois,
 
 GUARDSMAN OF THE SCOTTISH ARCHERS 267 
 
 and De Retz, one on either side. He was one of the last 
 of those noble Scots who had fought for France against 
 England in the great wars of the Independence. 
 
 The Captain was first of all for giving them a good 
 scolding for getting him again into trouble with the 
 King. The worst of the lot, he said, were the Scarred 
 One and Archie Cunningham. But since a quarrel 
 there was, he would rather have it with that Provost 
 Marshal than with any one else. 
 
 So he got down quickly the roll of the Guard and 
 entered Quentin Durward's name as esquire to his 
 uncle. That was pretty good of him, you see. For 
 of course he had to go at once to the King and get his 
 story told before Tristan got a chance at Louis. With 
 the help of Oliver Dain, the King's barber and con- 
 fidant, he managed this, which, of course, made Tristan 
 1'Hermite very mad. He even came up to make a 
 kind of apology, no doubt by order of the King, but 
 Quentin's uncle could see that he was just grilling with 
 anger. 
 
 "You have made an enemy there," said the Scarred 
 One to Quentin ; "so, for that matter, have I, and all of 
 us. But we are above his flight, we lads of the Scottish 
 Archers. We do not fear either Master Tristan or his 
 noose !" 
 
 They drank in hall that night to the new recruit,
 
 2 68 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 and Lord Crawford joined them to take a cup and to 
 tell old tales of Scotland. By this time a uniform of 
 esquire had been got for Quentin, so that he could 
 brave the anger of the Provost Marshal in open 
 day. 
 
 There was news. Lord Crawford said, to cheer 
 them, "that the old banner of France would be again 
 on the field " 
 
 "With a breeze from Burgundy to fan it!" cried an 
 Archer. And, indeed, war seemed likely. For the 
 Count of Crevecceur's suite had been seen down below 
 at the Hostelry. The King had declined to receive 
 him at the castle, though he was the ambassador of 
 the Duke of Burgundy. The Count was of hot temper 
 and little likely to stand it. 
 
 Besides, they had not only fallen out about the usual 
 frontier rows, but there was a girl in the question. A 
 ward of the Duke of Burgundy had run away to escape 
 being married to one of his Italian favourites, and was 
 now with the King of France. Her name was the 
 Countess of Croye, and she had brought a sort of 
 guardian with her. At any rate, the Duke, who thought 
 himself every bit as good and as powerful as the King 
 of France, was sure to take offence, and there would 
 be war between the Overlord and his great vassal. 
 
 This news delighted the Archers greatly, and they
 
 GUARDSMAN OF THE SCOTTISH ARCHERS 269 
 
 hoped for an early chance to go at the Burgundians. 
 At any rate, there was sure to be something worth 
 seeing when Louis XI of France had audience of the 
 Count of Crevecoeur bearing the Duke's message, 
 which they all believed to be a cartel of defiance. 
 
 Well, of course, being now the esquire of an acting 
 officer of the Scottish Guard, Quentin had to go to 
 court. He was dressed much like his uncle, but his 
 partisan was of a lighter make and his armour not so 
 heavy or so gorgeous. 
 
 First of all, Dunois was there, a fine soldier, and 
 though he was popular and much liked by everybody, the 
 King was not jealous of him. Indeed, he sometimes 
 called him to his councils. There was also the Cardinal 
 Balue, a bishop who liked to be thought half a soldier 
 and half a courtier, whose shrewd advice the King 
 took when it suited him, though he knew he was not 
 altogether to be trusted. 
 
 Then, leaning on the arm of Dunois, there entered 
 the heir to the throne, afterwards Louis XII, care- 
 fully guarded and melancholy, who was to be com- 
 pelled to marry Joan, the youngest daughter of the 
 King, a poor deformed girl. But when the King 
 himself came into the presence-chamber and all bowed 
 before him, Quentin nearly dropped his partisan with 
 astonishment. For the King was no other than Master
 
 270 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 Pierre, the merchant of Tours to whom he owed his 
 breakfast the day before. 
 
 The King came straight up to the place where 
 Quentin was posted, and said: "So, young man, I am 
 told that you have been brawling on your first arrival 
 in Touraine. But I pardon you, as it was chiefly the 
 fault of a foolish old merchant, who thought that your 
 Caledonian blood needed to be heated in the morning 
 with wine of Beaune. If I can find him, I will make 
 him an example to all those who would debauch my 
 Guards." 
 
 And as a mark of favour he ordered that the day, 
 hour, and minute of Quentin's birth should be written 
 down and given to the King's barber, Oliver Dain. 
 Louis himself meant to search out the young man's 
 horoscope. 
 
 It was a good beginning, and Le Balafre bowed to 
 the ground before the King. He was not much of 
 a king to look at. The dress he wore was an old 
 hunting-dress, dark blue, with a rosary of ebony, and 
 on his head he wore a hat the band of which carried 
 a full dozen of little saints stamped in lead set all round 
 about. 
 
 The King was ready to mount for the chase, when 
 Dunois told him that the Count of Crevecceur demanded 
 an audience in terms so insolent that had it not been
 
 GUARDSMAN OF THE SCOTTISH ARCHERS 271 
 
 for his character of envoy, he would have made him eat 
 them himself. 
 
 At this the King laughed. 
 
 "Body of me, Dunois," he said, "how is it that you, 
 one of the most impatient fellows alive, shouldst have 
 so little sympathy with the same infirmity in our blunt 
 and fiery cousin, Charles of Burgundy? Why, man, 
 we mind no more his blustering messages than the 
 castle towers up there do the whistling of the north- 
 east wind, which also comes from Flanders." 
 
 "My liege," said Dunois, "Crevecceur has his mas- 
 ter's orders that if the audience be not accorded, he is 
 to nail his gauntlet to the palisades of the castle as a 
 token of mortal defiance, cast fealty to the winds, and 
 proclaim instant war." 
 
 "Ay," said Louis, frowning under his shaggy eye- 
 brows, "will he so? Nay, then, Dunois, there will be 
 nothing for it but to unfold the Oriflamme and cry 
 Dennis Montjoye!" 
 
 "Marry and Amen a happy hour that will be!" 
 said Dunois. And the stir among the guards in the 
 hall at the good tidings was enough to produce a low 
 but distinct sound of clashing arms. 
 
 For a moment the King looked, and perhaps felt, 
 like his father him who had fought the English so 
 long. But the next moment Louis remembered that
 
 272 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 Edward IV was on the throne of England, a brave and 
 victorious king, whose sister was Duchess of Burgundy, 
 and that Cardinal Balue was, as he said, a good con- 
 ceited animal of a bishop whom Rome had put there 
 to watch him. He would therefore put off fighting as 
 long as he could. The next shuffling of the cards might 
 give him a stronger hand ! 
 
 Accordingly, with these intentions, he bade them admit 
 the envoy of Burgundy to the presence. 
 
 "Blessed are the peacemakers!" said the Cardinal 
 Balue, who was pleased with this decision. 
 
 "Yes," answered the King, "and your Eminence 
 knows that those who humble themselves shall be 
 exalted." 
 
 The Cardinal said "Amen" to this. But every one 
 else was ashamed for Louis's giving way, for so it 
 seemed to all present. Poor Louis of Orleans blushed, 
 and the Scarred One let the butt of his partisan fall 
 heavily on the floor. He was reproved for this by the 
 Cardinal, who gave him a rousing lecture on the method 
 of handling his arms in the presence of his sovereign. 
 
 To this, of course, Le Balafr answered nothing, 
 but Dunois at once said that he had a boon to ask of 
 his Majesty. 
 
 "You do not often ask, Dunois, and that should be 
 in your favour ! " said the King.
 
 GUARDSMAN OF THE SCOTTISH ARCHERS 273 
 
 "I wish, then," said Dunois, "that your Majesty 
 would send me to Evreux to regulate the clergy." 
 
 "That were indeed beyond your sphere!" said 
 Louis, smiling. 
 
 "I might order priests as well," replied the Count, 
 "as my Lord Bishop of Evreux (or my Lord Cardinal, 
 if he likes the title better) can exercise the soldiers of 
 your Majesty's guard." 
 
 Louis soothed the angers of Dunois by bidding him 
 be patient. All would yet come right. He would put 
 both Rome and Burgundy under his foot. 
 
 Then the Count of Crevecceur came in, all clad in 
 steel embossed with gold, leaving only his head bare. 
 He wore the cordon of the Golden Fleece, his master's 
 order. A page carried his helmet behind him, and a 
 herald went before, bending on one knee to present his 
 master's letters of credence to the King of France. 
 
 The Burgundian was as insolent as he could be. 
 He dared the King to his face, accused him of having 
 been seen in the unworthy disguise of a merchant of 
 Tours talking to the runaway Countess of Croye at the 
 little inn where Quentin had had breakfast. 
 
 In fact, he charged the King with the exact, identical 
 thing he had done. But Louis was far too cunning for 
 the brave rough Flemish Count. 
 
 "Bring forward your witness," said the King; "place
 
 274 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 the man before my face who dared maintain these 
 palpable falsehoods." 
 
 "You may well speak in triumph, my lord," said the 
 Count; "for you are well aware that he was a certain 
 Bohemian, Zamet Magraubin by name, whom you 
 had hung by your Majesty's Provost Marshal to pre- 
 vent him standing here to witness to the truth of what 
 I say." 
 
 It was the man whom Quentin had cut down when 
 he so nearly got his own neck stretched for doing it 
 by Tristan 1'Hermite. 
 
 The King told the envoy that it was quite evident he 
 had come there simply for purposes of insult, that he 
 had better say what he had to say and be done with it. 
 Thereafter the master who had sent him should answer 
 for it. 
 
 The Count of Crevecceur threw his gauntlet on the 
 floor and challenged King Louis in the name of his 
 master, the Duke of Burgundy, pronouncing him false 
 and faithless, and defying him as a prince and as a man. 
 
 Then Dunois, Orleans, Lord Crawford, and others 
 strove which should lift the gauntlet of defiance, while 
 the hall rang with cries of "Strike him down! Cut 
 him to pieces ! He comes here to insult our King in 
 his own palace!" 
 
 But Louis cried out above them all in a voice like
 
 GUARDSMAN OF THE SCOTTISH ARCHERS 275 
 
 thunder which overawed every other sound: " Silence, 
 my lieges ! Lay not a hand on the man, nor a ringer 
 on the gage ! And you, Count, is your duke made of 
 different metal from other princes that he asserts his 
 quarrel in so rude a manner?" 
 
 "He is, indeed, framed of nobler metal," said the 
 Count, quite undaunted; "for when not one of the 
 princes of Europe dared to give shelter to you, King 
 Louis, when you were an exile and pursued by your 
 own father, you were received and protected like a 
 brother by my noble master, whose generosity you 
 have so grossly misused. Farewell, sire, my mission 
 is discharged !" 
 
 And the Count left the room abruptly and without 
 leave-taking. 
 
 Then the King would not allow any of his soldiers 
 to lift the gage, except the Cardinal Balue, who, he said, 
 "might use his sacred office to make peace among 
 princes." 
 
 So the Cardinal hurried away to try the force of his 
 persuasion on the stiff-necked envoy of Burgundy, 
 while Dunois and the French nobles raged behind, 
 that they were not permitted to take up the gage of 
 battle in their King's name. 
 
 But the King would not give way. Every hour of 
 peace was precious. They knew it, he said. The
 
 276 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 country had had enough of war. It had need of re- 
 pose, even for a little while. And so he tided over their 
 anger, till Balue returned with the news that the Count 
 of Crevecceur had consented to remain twenty-four 
 hours more at the Hostelry of the Fleur-de-Lys, and till 
 that time to take back his gauntlet. 
 
 "Twenty-four hours that is no long time," said 
 the King, " but yet it may be worth a year. At any rate, 
 it need not interfere with our hunting. To the forest, 
 my gallant lords ! Here, Dunois, lend me your boar- 
 spear. Take mine. It is too heavy for me. But 
 when did you complain of such a fault in your lance? 
 To horse, gentlemen to horse ! " 
 
 The boar hunt in the forest was not long in coming 
 to an end. The Cardinal Balue was run away with by 
 his horse amid the laughter of the hunters, in which for 
 once the King joined heartily. But after his fall, the 
 Cardinal was not long in being joined by the envoy 
 of Burgundy, who courteously offered a staid, quiet 
 pony for the Cardinal's use, and marvelled at the 
 customs of the French court which thus permitted them 
 to go off and leave on the ground their wisest statesman 
 at the mercy of the chase. 
 
 Louis was a good huntsman, and rode straight at the 
 great boar. But as the horse shied from the charge, 
 the spear was not heavy enough to kill. So Louis,
 
 GUARDSMAN OF THE SCOTTISH ARCHERS 277 
 
 dismounting, advanced against the beast alone, hold- 
 ing in his hand one of these short, sharp-pointed swords 
 that are good against boar at close quarters. The boar 
 left the dogs to charge him, and Louis held his sword 
 firm. But at the moment, owing to the wetness of the 
 ground, his foot slipped, the sword went along the 
 beast's side, and Louis fell flat on the ground. The 
 boar rent his hunting-cloak and passed over him. He 
 turned, however, to charge again, and Louis might have 
 been slain, had it not been for Quentin, who had fol- 
 lowed the blasts of the King's horn when the chase was 
 thrown out. He came up, however, just right, and 
 transfixed the boar with his spear. 
 
 The King measured the animal, said a prayer to the 
 little leaden images in his cap, and then, looking at 
 Quentin, said: "So it is you, my young Scot. You 
 have done well. This pays for the breakfast over 
 yonder. But say nothing about having helped a king 
 at a pinch. Build on no man's favour but mine 
 not on your uncle's not on Crawford's. Silence does 
 it silence and good service!" 
 
 It was something like that he spoke, and Master 
 Pierre made good his words. For soon after Quentin 
 was called by the King for special military duty. The 
 Scarred One could not believe his ears when Barber 
 Oliver brought the news to send along his kinsman.
 
 278 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 "It must mean me! My nephew is but an esquire 
 serving under my banner, not one of the Archer Guard." 
 
 "No," said Oliver Dain, "his Majesty sent for the 
 register half an hour ago and enrolled Quentin Dur- 
 ward among the full members of the Royal Guard !" 
 
 4t 4> $ 4* $ . 4 
 
 WHAT THEY THOUGHT OF MASTER QUENTIN DURWARD 
 AS IT WAS RELATED BY HUGH JOHN 
 
 "/ think it is splendid," said Sweetheart, who with 
 two sovereigns in her pocket, and three to her current 
 account, could afford to be generous. 
 
 "And me!" said Maid Margaret, who, however, 
 wondered why people should take such trouble fighting 
 and hunting pigs with spears, when they could be roll- 
 ing over and over on the grass and making daisy chains. 
 
 "Umm " said Sir Toady Lion, "there's less girl 
 in this, anyway. That's one comfort." 
 
 The criticism of the three grown-up hearers was re- 
 served till the juniors had dispersed. Nevertheless, 
 I heard it. Indeed, I made a point of doing so. 
 
 "That boy will deserve his severing," said Butcher 
 Donnan, "even though he does tell it like boys jawing 
 together after a football match, and not like as a tale 
 out of a book to be told with long words and beauti- 
 ful sentiments ! That is, to my mind." 
 
 I answered that I had every intention of bestowing
 
 DIVERS OPINIONS 279 
 
 the effigy of Edward VII done in the heavier of the 
 precious metals upon the sagaman, but added that it 
 was best to read the book itself for the sentiments and 
 reflections. 
 
 "Oh," said silent Chesnay, the gamekeeper, "I have 
 lots of time to make suchlike for myself. Anyway, that 
 there King of France was a hot 'un, so far as I can see 
 that is, if young Master Hugh John has got his facts 
 to rights." 
 
 These were, I thought, fairly correct. But the real 
 stiff stuff was yet to come. I knew that Hugh John 
 had been spelling out Michelet and Lavisse two 
 histories of France with which my library was furnished. 
 
 "No," said Elphie, the narrow-eyed, many- wrinkled 
 man-of-the-woods, "I know that other young master 
 best him that is always botherin' about eggs and the 
 habits of birds he's a !" 
 
 But here he halted, out of consideration, I fear, for 
 the feelings of a close relative of the aforesaid young 
 master. 
 
 "Speak it out," said I; "Chesnay there knows that 
 he trespasses, and will not take advantage of informa- 
 tion got on neutral ground. And as for me, I think I 
 know the worst of this young man !" 
 
 Now certainly I did not mean to propose Sir Toady 
 for the good-conduct prize in an infant school. But
 
 280 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 beyond cheek, cool and calculating, a roving propensity 
 which refused respect to the game laws of his native 
 country, and a perfect irresponsibility as to the "tres- 
 passing-in-pursuit " of wild birds' eggs, there was 
 nothing against the young man. He could be trusted 
 to speak the truth, and he had been carefully and even 
 austerely educated in obedience by his elder brother. 
 
 "I know that other," said Elphie, "him they call 
 Sir Toady among themselves, and it's my opinion he'll 
 be up to some trick when his turn comes. I asked him 
 if he was reading his book. And he said to me, says 
 he, ' I've enough swotting to do at our old Coll. without 
 that. Let's go and look up that nest of young jays 
 in the Low Bridge Croft. I want them as soon as they 
 are fledged.' That's what he says, says he. 
 
 '"And what in the world do you want jays for?' says 
 I to him. 
 
 "'To put under my big sister's window in the morn- 
 ings,' says he, 'so that their singing will cheer her 
 when she wakes ! She will hear them jays even in her 
 dreams of me yes, I bet she will ! And say, " Good, 
 kind brother," she will.' 
 
 "Oh, he is a card that boy no end. 
 
 "So I says to the young gentleman (what he knows 
 already) that jays did not sing at all only yell. But 
 he answers, that was all / knew. Really, when put
 
 DIVERS OPINIONS 281 
 
 under the window of any one that you wanted to wake 
 up as mad as a hatter, they sung a beautiful song. 
 He had tried it on the mathematical master, he said, at 
 his school. And it acted just beautiful. Only the 
 birds died the result of a fall, cage and all. It 
 appeared that the string broke. He is going to use 
 wire the next time. Oh, as sweet and thoughtful a 
 young gentleman as ever lived!" 
 
 "Humph!" said Chesnay, "he can take all the jays 
 he likes for me, so long as you and he let my pheasants' 
 eggs alone." 
 
 There came a glint in the old poacher's wary eye, 
 answering one in Butcher Donnan's, who had just got 
 his game license renewed after a warning. This meant 
 that it was not the eggs that interested them. 
 
 "I never saw such a man for duty as you," said 
 Butcher Donnan to the gamekeeper; "early and late 
 it's stuffing them pheasants. You get all the work 
 and none of the thanks. And then, when at last you 
 have got them as tame as poultry, there's the pleasure 
 of havin' people you never saw before come out of 
 town for a day and blow their blessed heads off 
 ' Tommy- wi'-the-Long-Tail,' and 'Hirpling Dick,' and 
 'One-Eyed-Poll,' all them birds you've given names to 
 and that you know near as well as your own kids!" 
 
 The gamekeeper moved uneasily, but said nothing.
 
 282 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 There was too much truth in Butcher Donnan's sketch. 
 His ringer was on a sore spot. 
 
 Now John Chesnay's master, Colonel Davenant 
 Carter, had been a fine sportsman in his day, and even 
 now preserved strictly. But he had killed tiger in 
 the Mysore jungles with Canaree trackers scattering 
 every way to let him have a fair chance to stop the 
 charge of angry "Stripes." He had been in the ele- 
 phant keddahs with Sanderson, and killed snow leopard 
 with Younghusband. He had even trailed the white 
 tiger among the Amour mountains before the war. 
 
 So he counted little, as far as his own idea of sport 
 was concerned, upon the pheasants which Chesnay 
 reared with such care. He paid his obligations with 
 them, however, and it was counted by many that. a 
 day in the Colonel's preserves was no mean privilege. 
 
 The Colonel was a personal friend of Sir Toady 
 Lion's, and to him that youth recounted his iniquities 
 on the express condition that, speaking as from one 
 gentleman to another, he should on no account tell 
 either John Chesnay or even old Keeper Dixon now 
 retired, but still a friend of the game. 
 
 "It's not those gentlemen who come from the city 
 that do the most harm among my pheasants," said 
 Chesnay, slowly; "they don't know enough. They 
 only fire at what we put for them. Them what know
 
 DIVERS OPINIONS 283 
 
 enough to nab the pheasant harmful, live nearer 
 home!" 
 
 There was a silence after this somewhat pointed re- 
 mark, and I hastened to ask the company over a cigar ! 
 apiece, offered as a pipe of peace, what they thought ' 
 of Quentin Durward. 
 
 "A good lad," decided the Butcher, arbiter of taste, 
 "oh, a good lad must have been well taught by his 
 father. Smart, too, except in not seeing at once who 
 that there burgess was sort o' town-councillor he 
 looked. Course outside of a novelle" (Butcher Don- 
 nan pronounced the word French fashion) "a boy as 
 smart as Quentin would have spotted at once that it 
 was the King. But what I object to is, making them 
 say all through that that hangman brute was like a 
 butcher ! Now do / look like a hangman ? " 
 
 And Mr. Donnan turned a sturdy, round, apple- 
 cheeked countenance upon us, with only a little narrow- 
 ing about the eyes, and two deep lines, one at each side 
 of the mouth, to warn the onlooker that he had before 
 him an ex-middle-weight champion, and not mine host 
 of the Fleur-de-Lys serving out drinks on a feast day 
 to the Archers of the Guard. 
 
 It was the unanimous opinion of all present that 
 Butcher Donnan did not look like a hangman. Poacher 
 Elphie was particularly strong on this point.
 
 "'A butcherly fellow!'" quoted Mr. Donnan; "how 
 often I have heard those words in books and stories ! I 
 wish I could get at the man that said them first, or even 
 at one of the follow-my-leaders I would learn them ! " 
 
 "This Quentin had great luck," said Elphie, criti- 
 cally, to change the subject. "Either he came up just 
 at the nick of time, and saved the King, or else some- 
 body came up and saved him, with the rope already 
 round his neck and old Tristan saying, 'Heave ho, 
 boys up she goes ! '" 
 
 "That," said I, feeling myself an expert at the busi- 
 ness, "is the way with all real heroes. Many have 
 tried to alter it, but nobody will read their books ! So 
 they have just to change back again to the old style of 
 hero. You don't know many of them in actual life, 
 but I knew one ! " 
 
 Here all gazed at me, obviously in search of informa- 
 tion. 
 
 "And who might he be?" said Butcher Donnan, who 
 had the greatest liberty of speech. 
 
 "Why, myself!" I said firmly. 
 
 "Oh!" said Butcher Donnan. 
 
 "Ah!" said Elphie, the Poacher. 
 
 As for Gamekeeper John Chesnay, he said nothing. 
 But he looked at me from head to foot and shaped his 
 mouth as if to whistle.
 
 DIVERS OPINIONS 285 
 
 I nodded firmly, sure of my quality. 
 
 "You see it is this way," I said: "all authors have 
 just one hero, that is the Self they would have liked 
 to be, the gallant boy they were not, the fellow who 
 defied the master when they whimpered to be let off, 
 who fought the wounded tiger when they would have 
 gladly shinned up a tree, who cleft a way through the 
 hostile ranks when they would have followed Boer 
 tactics and got behind the nearest rock. That's your 
 ' hero ' just the author if he had shoes of swiftness, 
 helmet of invisibility, and a shirt of mail that would 
 defy all the Dreadnought's twelve-inchers firing into 
 him at once." 
 
 They thanked me for the information, but evidently 
 preferred to accept their heroes at face value, without 
 inquiring whence they came. 
 
 "But was there never such a man as Quentin?" 
 demanded Donnan, who still kept the severe gravity 
 of his face, frowning as over a problem; "coz if there 
 weren't, I, for one, am not coming back to listen to 
 lies!" 
 
 I hastened to reassure these anxious inquirers. 
 
 "Certainly," I said; "not only one, but many of 
 them. Not only Glen Houlakin, but every glen in 
 Scotland sent out its own Quentin to fight 'for his ain 
 hand ' either to finish up under sod in the common
 
 286 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 trench of some battle-field, swing on a foreign gallows- 
 tree, or become a gallant archer in some King's Guard." 
 
 "Thankee," said Butcher Donnan; "it's a real com- 
 fort- to hear that the laddie's tale is true. I suppose 
 you would not let us club together, and put a bit to 
 the sov you are going to give him." 
 
 I thought not. The precedent was bad, though I 
 appreciated the kind thought. 
 
 "Well," said Butcher Donnan, "there's no harm in 
 sending him down a good bone for the dog now, is 
 there?" 
 
 "And if I should see him in my woods " began 
 Keeper Chesnay. He meant there would be nothing 
 said. I asked him if he could not extend that courtesy 
 to a certain younger brother. 
 
 But the grim man of leggings shook his head, and 
 answered dubiously: "That's as may be. At any rate, 
 tell him to keep away from the pheasant hutches!" 
 
 This came perilously near to slander, but it was of 
 the sort to which, as a father, I was well accustomed, 
 and, as a man, I could support with equanimity. So I 
 nodded to the Keeper, as he put my Havana cigar 
 away in his pouch, because (as he said) "she smokes 
 better chopped up with some real tobacco!" 
 
 I was left alone with Elphie, who grinned at the keep- 
 er's back. "Master Toady," he said, in a low voice,
 
 DIVERS OPINIONS 287 
 
 "is a better judge than to meddle with his hutch- 
 hatched eggs. Why for should he? Does not John 
 Chesnay and his master kindly feed up the Poultry- 
 with-the-Long-Tails yes, better than fighting-cocks. 
 They buys good hen eggs from all the farms. Why, 
 I sell them six dozen at a time myself, and all for what ? 
 to chop up and feed to them blessed birds ! Lift 
 their eggs ? No not by a great deal. We know 
 better. Most kind it is of John Chesnay, and of the 
 Colonel ! And it would not be me nor yet, begging 
 your pardon, the young gentleman aforesaid that 
 would meddle with them nice clutches of eggs down 
 yonder not till there's something that a man can eat 
 with a knife and fork, and not just with a teaspoon 
 and a little salt!" 
 
 Elphie looked about him with a vaguely wistful ex- 
 pression. 
 
 "It's a pity," he said, "that such talents as that 
 young gent has should be wasted on a sailor. At sea, 
 now, he won't have no scope to make his name. It's 
 in the woods !" 
 
 "Yes, I know," I .remarked, cutting him short, 
 111 on a shiny night in the season of the year.' But 
 after all, he will be better on the high seas keeping his 
 King's laws than breaking them on shore." 
 
 "I hope," said Elphie, shrewdly, "that your Honour
 
 288 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 does not 'emply' that remark to a little friendly visiting 
 of plantations looking for moths. Very fond o' 
 moths is our young gentleman and I helps him ! " 
 
 This was well and very well for the House of the 
 Conscript Fathers, the Red Cap Senate, as it were. 
 
 "But by the yellow Tiber, 
 Was terror and affright" 
 
 Quentin and Le Balafre (which is to say, Hugh John 
 and Nipper Donnan) had captured King Louis (Maid 
 Margaret) and a very angry and revengeful Tristan 
 1'Hermite in the person of her younger brother. They 
 were endeavouring to hang them with their own cord 
 the Maid's skipping-rope to the branches of a 
 neighbouring noble elm. 
 
 Maid Margaret was almost ready to cry with rage, 
 and Sir Toady was kicking his loyal best, when Sweet- 
 heart arrived on the scene armed with the largest gar- 
 den squirt, and at once changed the aspect of affairs. 
 Nipper received the first discharge full in the neck, 
 and, turning to view his new assailant, was adroitly 
 pushed by Sir Toady into the "yellow Tiber," from 
 which, along with his pockets full of water, he was 
 presently rescued, an angry boy, indeed as eager to 
 break the heads of all his assailants (except Sweetheart)
 
 DIVERS OPINIONS 289 
 
 as was ever Quentin rising dripping from the unnamed 
 tributary of the Cher. 
 
 This put a stop to the irregular and incorrect repre- 
 sentation of "Quentin" upon the stage of the water-side 
 meadow. Nipper Donnan's ardour became suddenly 
 so moderated that he made haste to "hook it" in 
 order, as he confessed, to reach home before the "Dad." 
 Thus he would get a chance to change his wet clothes. 
 For Butcher Donnan, having to pay for the family 
 clothes, did not believe in renewing them oftener than 
 the strictest necessity required. He was, indeed, accus- 
 tomed to take the amount out of the "hide" of the 
 clothes-destroyer, on the principle that the hide afore- 
 said would mend for itself, but the damaged clothes 
 would not. 
 
 Nipper felt that there was a flaw in this reasoning, 
 though he was not able to say just where. 
 
 When he was gone, the House of Commons sat upon 
 the case of Master Quentin Durward. Hugh John was 
 Speaker on this occasion. That is to say, he was the 
 only one who did not speak. 
 
 "I don't call Louis XI a proper king at all," said 
 Sweetheart. "Why should he not have had tourna- 
 ments, and courts of love, and splintering lances, and 
 Queens of Beauty, like the rest?" 
 
 "I suppose you would have put up for that last!" 
 suggested Sir Toady Lion, sneeringly.
 
 290 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 The Speaker said nothing, but bent upon the hon- 
 ourable member a look which said as plain as print, 
 "I'll lick you, Toadums, as soon as this honourable 
 sitting is over." 
 
 The young man was undaunted that as a matter 
 of course. Lickings, taken or given, arrived too much 
 in the ordinary course of nature to be matter of re- 
 mark. 
 
 " Oh, of course," he went on "how like a girl ! Sis 
 thinks that nobody can be a king who does not prance 
 about in his crown all day long! It would be like 
 going into a wood to observe the habits of birds 
 with three drums and the town band. Look at our 
 King. I suppose none of you dare say that there is 
 any better king going, or one-half so good. But does 
 he take his whole navy around and a thousand men of 
 his guard? Does he say, 'Now, all you little people, 
 come out and see how grand I am ! ' 
 
 "You better believe not. He nips about in his 
 yacht, here to-day and gone to-morrow. And he says, 
 'Won't you come aboard and see the fittings? Got 
 some nice things to show you and we can have a talk 
 and a smoke, feet on the chimneypiece, something iced 
 at your elbow, and everybody as thick as thieves ! ' ' 
 
 "Oh," said Sweetheart, "I know, but that is nowa- 
 days. There were not any steam yachts then, and if
 
 DIVERS OPINIONS 291 
 
 there had been, Louis would have stopped in his old 
 castle just the same !" 
 
 "Rubbish!" said Sir Toady; "don't tell me! He 
 would have done like the others. Everybody who has 
 a yacht will go in her costs a jolly lot of money, 
 though!" 
 
 "I know somebody who wouldn't go in a yacht 
 not if he had whole navies of them ! " said Sweetheart, 
 triumphantly. 
 
 This singular personage was also well known to Sir 
 Toady, and the discussion was felt to be closed on this 
 head. 
 
 " And what about the King? " asked Sweetheart of 
 Hugh John, who had acquired a considerable fund of 
 information outside of the tale he was telling. " Was 
 he really as bad as he is made out? " 
 
 "Worse, if anything, I think! Oh, loads worse!" 
 said Hugh John; "he was pretty bad to his father, 
 worse to his children, and worst of all to any one who 
 offended him, or came in the way of what he wanted 
 to do. Only he wasn't such a bad king for the people 
 or for France. He kept out of war when he could, 
 cheating people instead, and ended by making France 
 a proper kingdom. But of course Quentin, being the 
 hero, naturally had to see the best of him, especially at 
 first."
 
 2 9 a RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 "Well," said Sweetheart, "after all, I like Charles 
 the Bold better the Duke of Burgundy, I mean !" 
 
 Hugh John sighed, for in his secret heart so did he. 
 But he had identified himself with Royal Archer Quentin 
 Durward, and as such he was bound to support the 
 Auld Alliance, even when represented by the Eleventh 
 Louis. 
 
 So he only said, "Charles the Bold should be really 
 named 'Charles the Rash.' He was what King James 
 VI in Nigel called Francis I 'A fechtin' fool !'" 
 
 "Well," said Sweetheart, who, since she has been at 
 school, is sometimes inclined to let her tongue run away 
 with her, "if you two enter the army or the navy " 
 
 But she stopped in time, and applied herself to her 
 needlework, while Hugh John began to read up for 
 his next attempt, and Sir Toady and Maid Margaret 
 had their usual friendly tussle with the dogs on the 
 green. 
 
 WHICH IS THE END OF HUGH JOHN'S SECOND TALE FROM 
 "QUENTIN DURWARD"
 
 ON THE KING'S BUSINESS 293 
 
 HUGH JOHN'S THIRD TALE FROM "QUENTIN 
 DURWARD " 
 
 ON THE KING'S BUSINESS 
 
 ADVENTURES came to Quentin (said Hugh John, when 
 all were again gathered at the Feudal Tower) as they 
 should to a proper hero. 
 
 The King sent for him to place him on duty, first in 
 a lonely hall, and afterwards in the banqueting cham- 
 ber, where he was entertaining the Cardinal Balue and 
 the envoy of Burgundy. 
 
 Louis did nothing openly that he could do secretly, 
 so he placed Quentin right behind the buffet, with his 
 long-barrelled gun charged and his slow-match burning. 
 The King feared treachery. Indeed, he spent his life 
 that way. He knew that Crevecoeur and Cardinal 
 Balue had met on the day of the boar hunt, and he was 
 doubtful of Balue being true to him. 
 
 Anyway, he was not going to run the risk. He ordered 
 Quentin to listen to all that passed, and if he should 
 hear the King call out, "Ecosse, en avant!" he was 
 instantly to throw down the buffet and fire upon 
 Crevecoeur. 
 
 "As for the Cardinal," the King added, "Oliver and 
 I can manage him. But if your piece fail, close with 
 Crevecceur and use the knife."
 
 294 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 The banquet was splendid and complete, as Quentin 
 afterwards tested. He had gone without dinner that 
 night in the hurry of making ready to obey the summons 
 of the King. Louis talked of old days in Burgundy, 
 of nobles and ladies whom he had known during his 
 exile there. Nothing seemed farther from his mind 
 than any treachery. Yet he sometimes gave a look full 
 of meaning in the direction of the buffet, behind which 
 Quentin stood, ready, if called upon, to step forward 
 and slay his principal guest. Nothing, however, hap- 
 pened. Whatever secret there was between the Car- 
 dinal and the Count had to be kept till another time. 
 
 But Quentin's night of adventure was not yet fin- 
 ished. He was recalled by the King to the same Hall 
 of Roland where he had been placed on duty -at first. 
 . "Take notice," said Louis, "that you have never 
 left this post. Not a word to your uncle or to your 
 comrades. Put this chain of gold about your neck 
 to buckle the fact on your memory. Now, you are to 
 watch here in this hall. You are to listen and you are 
 to repeat to me what you hear. No man, save Oliver 
 Dain or I, must enter here this night, but there will be 
 ladies. If spoken to, let your answers be brief and 
 soldierly. Remember, I have bought you, body and 
 soul!" 
 
 In his heart Quentin thought that there might be
 
 ON THE KING'S BUSINESS 295 
 
 two words about that, but he only betook him to his 
 duty. First there entered the King's daughter, Joan, 
 then the two escaped ladies, the Countess Hameline 
 and the Countess of Croye. These three began to 
 talk without knowing the Princess for the King's 
 daughter. She had doubtless been sent on ahead to 
 try them, with Quentin as a check upon them all. 
 Quentin came very near losing the King's favour by 
 letting in the Duke of Orleans. Quentin admitted him 
 only on condition that he should bear him witness with 
 the King that he had done the duty of his post, so far 
 as the will of the first prince of the blood permitted. 
 
 "Do your duty," said the Prince, "but not against 
 Louis of Orleans!" 
 
 The Duke openly neglected the pale Joan, to whom 
 he was promised in marriage, and paid what court he 
 could to the beautiful Countess of Croye till Joan grew 
 almost ill. Indeed, at last she fainted altogether, and 
 had only come to herself in the Duke's arms when the 
 King entered the Gallery. 
 
 First of all, he said angrily to Orleans, "You here, 
 fair cousin?" And then, turning to Quentin, he de- 
 manded sternly, "Had you not charge?" 
 
 "Forgive this young man, sire," said the Duke; 
 "he did not neglect his duty, but I was informed that 
 the Princess was in the Gallery ! "
 
 296 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 But after they were gone and the King and he were 
 left alone, Louis gave the young guardsman a severe 
 lesson. 
 
 "Thou hast done foul wrong, and deserve to die!" 
 said the King. "What hadst thou to do with dukes 
 or princesses? What with anything but my order?" 
 
 "But please, your Majesty," said Quentin, "what 
 could I do?" 
 
 "Do?" cried the King, scornfully; "what could you 
 do when your post was forcibly passed? Why, put 
 your piece to your shoulder, and if the presumptuous 
 rebel did not retire on the instant, he should have died 
 within this very hall." 
 
 Quentin was pretty glad to get off so nicely, as you 
 may think. Things might easily have gone much 
 worse with him, but he was only packed off to his 
 quarters with the message that on the way he was to 
 send Oliver Dain to the King. 
 
 Oliver Dain, the King's barber, was his closest 
 adviser. He was called Oliver the Bad, or sometimes 
 Oliver the Devil. 
 
 [" Six cuts in the gym for swearing ! " said Sir Toady ; 
 "three howls, and not a stain upon your character after- 
 wards. It was all owing to that bad, bold book Quentin 
 Durward I I know ! " ] 
 
 Sometimes called Oliver the Devil (Hugh John went
 
 QUENTIN AND THE DUKE OF ORLEANS.
 
 ON THE KING'S BUSINESS 297 
 
 on, in a level voice, without paying the least atten- 
 tion), and he and the King held a council. They 
 made up their mind that the best thing to do would 
 be to send Isabelle of Croye to the care of the Bishop 
 of Liege, who was a prince as well, and an elector of the 
 Empire all in one. 
 
 Louis decided to send them under the escort of 
 Quentin Durward, in whom he had great faith, because 
 (as he said) he had teen sent to him directly from the 
 saints. 
 
 Secretly, however, Louis meant to deliver up Isabelle 
 of Croye to a kind of noble bandit, William de la Marck, 
 called the Wild Boar of the Ardennes. He was of 
 good birth, but prided himself on doing all sorts of 
 abominable things. For this he was generally barred 
 by all decent people, had been excommunicated by the 
 Pope, and put under the ban of the Empire none of 
 which, however, troubled him very much. He had 
 about him lots of bad, bold soldiers, pretty much like 
 bandits and assassins, but because of that he could 
 carry on war against any one except the two great pow- 
 ers of France and Burgundy. 
 
 Now you see this King of France couldn't do a straight 
 thing if he tried and he didn't even try. He wanted 
 to make William de la Marck marry the Countess of 
 Croye. So he arranged 'to have a message sent by a
 
 298 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 Bohemian (or gipsy) to the Wild Boar of the Ardennes, 
 that he could catch a rich and beautiful bride by keep- 
 ing watch on the right hand of the Maes near Liege, 
 where they were to pass. 
 
 He did not bother at all about Quentin, who, of course, 
 would fight to the death. If he lost one faithful ser- 
 vant, he said, Saint Julian would find him another. To 
 annoy Burgundy and its duke was the principal thing 
 at present. For this he would deliver Isabelle of Croye 
 to a kind of ogre, and allow his good servant Quentin 
 to be done to death. 
 
 But during the journey, of course, Quentin had fallen 
 in love with the young Countess. To start with, he 
 had fought against two knights who came out to take 
 her out of his hands. One of these, whom he unhorsed, 
 was no other than the Duke of Orleans, first prince of 
 the blood, and the other Dunois, the best knight in 
 Europe. He held his own (at least) against Dunois, in 
 spite of having his helmet cleft at the first blow. But 
 Lord Crawford, at the head of a body of archers, put an 
 end to the fight, and left Quentin at liberty to go his 
 way, while he carried off Dunois and Orleans to the 
 Dungeons of Loches, the strongest and most terrible 
 castle in France, a perfect rabbit warren of under- 
 ground dungeons. 
 
 As Quentin went on his journey, he kept good
 
 ON THE KING'S BUSINESS 299 
 
 watch. But at the same time he talked as much as he 
 could with the two ladies of Croye with the younger 
 when he could, and with the elder when he had to. 
 
 His guide was a brother of the Bohemian whom on 
 his first day in Touraine Quentin had cut down. He 
 was none the better of that, having treachery in his 
 blood. Indeed, the only good things about him were 
 the capital horse which he rode and a certain liking for 
 Quentin whom, however, he meant to betray just 
 the same ! 
 
 One night on their journey, Quentin, suspecting evil, 
 watched the gipsy steal cautiously away, after getting 
 himself turned out of the monastery where they were 
 lodging. He traversed a meadow till he came to a 
 stream about which grew many little clumps of willow 
 and alder. Then the gipsy stood still and blew some 
 low notes on his horn. 
 
 "I will stalk him," said Quentin to himself, "as if 
 he were a Glen-Isla deer. Why should I fear vaga- 
 bond gipsies? I have crossed swords with Dunois, 
 the best knight in France. By Saint Andrew, they will 
 find me both stout and wary!" 
 
 So he stepped down into the channel of the stream 
 and ascended it noiselessly (which is a good way to get 
 to any bird's nest, Master Toady, if you don't know 
 already, the sound of the water dulling the footsteps).
 
 300 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 Then he came to an ancient weeping willow, and 
 catching by a branch, lifted himself into the branches, 
 where he was perfectly concealed. 
 
 But the man whom his guide was talking with was 
 one of his own tribe. They talked gipsy talk, and 
 Quentin could not understand a word, though by the 
 guide rubbing himself with his hand here and there, 
 and jumping about, he made out that he was making 
 merry at the beating he had got when turned out of 
 the monastery. 
 
 But it was not long before a tall, stout, soldierly man 
 joined them, evidently a German mercenary in the pay 
 of William de la Marck. With him the two gipsies 
 discussed the ambush at the Cross of the Three Kings 
 on the way to Liege, where the ladies were to be 
 taken. 
 
 But the guide made the soldier of the Wild Boar 
 swear that he would save the life of Quentin, to whom 
 he had taken a liking. The Ardennes man swore he 
 would, by the Three Kings of Cologne, turning his 
 face to the east to do it. 
 
 But whether he meant to keep it is quite another 
 matter. At any rate, for his own sake as well as that 
 of his ladies, Quentin did not give him a chance either 
 to break or keep. He changed his route from the 
 right bank of the river to the left, and arrived safely
 
 ON THE KING'S BUSINESS 301 
 
 at Liege, where he delivered his charges safely to the 
 good Prince Bishop. 
 
 The Bishop was a fast ally of Burgundy, and not 
 only gained in safety from this, but in authority, also. 
 For it was known that whoever harmed the Prince 
 Bishop had to do with Charles of Burgundy. Only 
 the people of Liege had waxed rich and were inclined 
 to kick, as it says in the Bible. Wealth had made wit 
 to waver, and so they were to pay for this, not once, but 
 twice. 
 
 Willy-nilly, the Liege people would have it that 
 Quentin was an envoy of the King of France. They 
 wanted a chance to rebel and hoped for the support 
 of Louis. They pointed in proof of this to the Saint 
 Andrew's cross and fleur-de-lys in his bonnet. 
 
 "Surely he is of the Guard of King Louis !" said one 
 of the city syndics, by name Pavilion, and when Quen- 
 tin owned it, saying, "Well, and what then?" Pavilion 
 turned about to the crowd, crying out: "He has con- 
 fessed it ! Long live the Scottish Guard ! Long live 
 Louis, the guardian of the liberties of Liege!" 
 
 Finally he managed to escape by means of one of 
 the syndics, and reach the Schonwaldt, or Bishop's 
 Palace, where his ladies were staying under the care 
 of the Bishop's sister, the Abbess of a severe order, 
 who gave Quentin little chance to talk with them.
 
 302 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 The only pretty silly thing that Quentin did was to 
 take a love-letter written by the silly old Countess 
 Hameline for one which Isabelle of Croye did not 
 write ! Hameline was a regular old fool, though, the 
 book says, nice enough to look at for her age. 
 
 However, Quentin went on dreaming that the young 
 Countess was in love with him, and he would have been 
 quite mad enough to tell her of it that is, if he had 
 had the chance. 
 
 Luckily for him, on the fourth night he got something 
 else to think about. He was awakened by a terrible 
 noise in the city. The gipsy spy came into his room 
 and told him that the people of Liege were up, that 
 the bandit William de le Marck was assaulting the 
 city, and that now was the time to secure a bride and 
 earldom. 
 
 Of course Quentin thought at once of the love-letter 
 and of Isabelle of Croye. He heard in the streets 
 the shouts of, "Liege! Liege! Sanglier! Sanglier!" 
 These were answered from within the Schonwaldt by 
 weaker ones of "Our Lady for the Prince Bishop," 
 weaker because the men inside were fewer, and 
 the words more difficult to shout out loud. 
 
 ["Yes, of course," interrupted Sir Toady, eager for 
 a modern instance; "it is easy enough to call out 
 ' Torwood ! Torwood ! ' * Galloway ! Galloway ! ' or
 
 ON THE KING'S BUSINESS 303 
 
 even * Mean Pig ! Mean Pig ! ' if you are far enough off, 
 but ever so much harder to keep on shouting, ' God 
 bless the Tweedbridge Presbyterian Kirk, its minister, 
 office-bearers, and choir ! ' Of course they could not 
 keep on shouting that!" 
 
 "Shut up, Toad," said Hugh John, severely; "it is 
 serious, this time ! " Also, to steady the young man 
 still further, I put my hand on the pocket where I carry 
 my purse. So, for the time being, the fountain of folly 
 was dried up.] 
 
 Yes, the Wild Boar of the Ardennes was assaulting 
 the castle. But the Bohemian had one Marthon, a 
 girl of his tribe, with the ladies, and she thought, or 
 pretended to think, that it was the Lady Hameline 
 whom Quentin was in love with. 
 
 ["That's the worst of being in love," muttered Sir 
 Toady, philosophically, to himself; "a fellow is always 
 making mistakes about which one it is."] 
 
 Well, in the midst of all this turmoil, the Bohemian 
 and Quentin got away from the castle with the two 
 ladies, both well wrapped up in long veils. Of course 
 Quentin thought that the one hanging on his arm was 
 the young Countess. But it wasn't not by miles. 
 It was old Hameline, and the other was Marthon, the 
 gipsy. 
 
 You be sure that Quentin let go in the crack of a
 
 3 04 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 whip, and took the road back to the castle to look 
 after the genuine article. It was his duty, of course. 
 
 [So he wasn't a fool, as Toady says he was. Toady 
 ought to know about fools. But he does not even 
 know how big a one he is himself always to keep 
 croaking away like a polly in a cage, when a fellow is 
 doing his best to tell a story. 
 
 A severe look on his brother's face as he delivered 
 this reproof, and a hand still laid significantly on a cer- 
 tain right-hand trousers pocket, between them caused 
 Sir Toady to defer his reply to a more convenient 
 season.] 
 
 Quentin found that to get back into the castle was a 
 good deal more difficult than it had been to get out. 
 First of all, he was compelled to swim the moat, get- 
 ting out of the way of the drowning wretches who had 
 been thrown into it from above. Then a lanzknecht, 
 or free-lance, stood ready to strike him down when he 
 came to the little postern. But Quentin took the mas- 
 terful air of one of the victors in which his cap of 
 the Archers of the French Guard helped him. For, 
 you see, the Wild Boar of Ardennes and the Liege 
 people had made it known that they had among them 
 an envoy of the French King. 
 
 "To the Western Tower, if you want to be rich !" he 
 cried ; "the Priest's treasure is in the Western Tower !"
 
 ON THE KING'S BUSINESS 305 
 
 Before reaching the turret where the ladies had been 
 confined, Quentin had to drag several dead men out 
 of his way. One of these, however, objected that he 
 was not dead, and offered to help Quentin if he would 
 raise him to his feet. He was more in danger, so 
 he said, of being smothered like a pig in his own 
 armour. 
 
 Quentin saw that this man might possibly help, so, 
 seating him on a stone, he found that he was no other 
 than the Syndic Pavilion unwounded, but much out 
 of breath. 
 
 "Sit down and get your breath back again," said 
 Quentin; "I will be with you instantly." 
 
 "What, my lively young archer!" said Syndic 
 Pavilion; "I have found a friend in this fearful night, 
 and I am not going to quit him. Go where you will 
 I follow, and if I can manage to get some tight lads of 
 the guild together, then I may be able to help you in 
 my turn." 
 
 In his heart Quentin cursed the obstruction of hav- 
 ing the fat Syndic to lead about like a bear, but there 
 was no help for it. He searched the first two rooms 
 of the suite, finding only rifled trunks, with here and 
 there a dead man. At last he came upon a secret 
 door, and, bursting it open, found the Countess of 
 Croye Isabelle herself. He pressed her to his bosom,
 
 3 o6 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 entreating her to cheer up and help him by doing her 
 part. For, you see, they would have to step lively, if 
 she was going to be saved. 
 
 She asked Quentin not to abandon her, and of course 
 he said he never would. More than that, he meant it. 
 
 "A love affair," said a rough, broken voice behind 
 them. "I see I see I am as sorry for you, I 
 declare, as if you had been my own daughter 
 Trudchen!" 
 
 "But you must have more pity on us you must 
 help protect us, Mynheer Pavilion," said Quentin, 
 turning sharply upon him. "This young lady was put 
 under my care by the King of France, and if she comes 
 to any harm, your city will lose the favour of Louis." 
 
 Pavilion said that the thing would be difficult, but 
 he would do his best. He halooed lustily from the 
 window for all the men of the "curriers" guild, and so 
 got together two or three of his own followers ! Others 
 followed, till he had quite a respectable gathering. 
 
 Above, the bell was tolling for a military council, 
 and Peterkin, the Syndic's lieutenant, told his master 
 that the gates were up and guarded. There was some 
 noise that the ladies of Croye had escaped, which had 
 angered De la Marck very much. 
 
 However, it was resolved that Isabelle should for the 
 time being become Trudchen, the Syndic's daughter.
 
 ON THE KING'S BUSINESS 307 
 
 And, wrapped in a long Flemish veil, there seemed 
 some chance that one might pass for the other. 
 
 As they approached the great hall, the shouts, yells, 
 and brutal laughter that came from it made Isabelle 
 of Croye shrink instinctively close to Quentin. 
 
 She had, she whispered, a favour to ask of him. He 
 said that it was granted before it was asked. 
 
 "It is that you will plunge a dagger into my heart," 
 she said, "rather than let me fall into the hands of these 
 monsters!" 
 
 Quentin did not answer, but only pressed her hand. 
 Thus leaning on her young protector, the Countess 
 entered the dreadful hall. The men of the Wild 
 Boar's army were more like carousing devils than any- 
 thing else, but Quentin and his party had to face them 
 as best they could. Even Pavilion put on a bold face. 
 
 The Wild Boar himself sat unhelmeted at the table- 
 head. Over his armour he wore a strong surcoat, 
 made of the dressed skin of a wild boar, the hoofs 
 being of solid silver and the tusks also of the same metal. 
 When he drew the boar's mask over his head, as he 
 often did when without his helmet, the effect was that 
 of a grinning, horrible monster. 
 
 On the banquet-table all the sacred plate of the Church 
 was mixed with leathern "black-jacks" and beer can- 
 nikins. The Wild Boar cared nothing for sacrilege,
 
 3 o8 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 having been already cursed by the Pope and put to the 
 ban of the Empire. But a lanzknecht, who had stolen 
 one of these off the board, had been "knitted up" to 
 one of the staunchions of the window, and hung there 
 even now, in the midst of the feast, before the very 
 eyes of Quentin and Isabelle as they entered the hall 
 with their protector. 
 
 De la Marck received the Syndic readily enough, 
 as one of the civic magistrates of the city he had con- 
 quered. But he ordered Isabelle to unveil. 
 
 Pavilion pleaded for her as his daughter, saying that 
 she wore her veil on account of a vow to the Three 
 Kings of Cologne. 
 
 "I will absolve her of it," cried the Wild Boar; "by 
 a stroke of a cleaver I will consecrate myself Bishop of 
 Liege, and I trust that one live bishop is worth three 
 dead kings!" 
 
 Then De la Marck went on to do one of the worst 
 acts of his bad and cruel career. He ordered the Prince 
 Bishop to be brought in. All the Burgomaster's fol- 
 lowers kept close behind him, and though some of them 
 whispered that this could not be Trudchen, the girl 
 being much taller, none made any sign to betray their 
 master. Quentin placed himself near the only person 
 of whom De la Marck was known to be fond. In a 
 fit of passion the Wild Boar had killed the lad's mother
 
 ON THE KING'S BUSINESS 309 
 
 with a single blow, and now what of fondness he had, 
 returned upon the boy, her son. 
 
 The noble old Bishop of Liege, Louis of Bourbon, 
 was now brought in. He was dishevelled, and the robes 
 of his office had been thrown over him anyhow, as if in 
 mockery. Then followed a scene, short and fearful. 
 The Bishop now showed great dignity and calmness. 
 He was composed and undismayed even in the prospect 
 of death. 
 
 "Louis of Bourbon," cried the truculent soldier, 
 or bandit, rather, "I sought your friendship you 
 rejected mine. What would you now give that it had 
 been otherwise? Nikkei, be ready!" 
 
 The butcher of Liege, who had brought over his 
 trade to help William de la Marck, seized his weapon, 
 and stealing with it behind De la Marck' s chair, stood 
 with it uplifted in his bare and sinewy arms. 
 
 "Look at this man, Louis of Bourbon," said the Wild 
 Boar; "what terms do you offer now to escape this 
 hour?" 
 
 The Bishop looked, quietly and sadly, at the grisly 
 satellite. Then he answered with firmness. 
 
 "These are the terms," he said, "which I offer to 
 this ruffian, William de la Marck. He has stirred up 
 to sedition an Imperial city. He has assaulted and 
 taken the palace of a Prince of the Holy German
 
 3 io RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 Empire. He has broken into the sanctuary of the 
 Lord denied the house of God with blood and rapine, 
 like a sacrilegious robber " 
 
 "Have you done?" cried the Wild Boar, as if gnash- 
 ing his tusks. 
 
 "Such are his crimes; now hear the terms," said the 
 Prince Bishop. "Setting aside all personal offence, 
 forgiving each particular injury to myself if he will 
 fling down his leading staff renounce his command 
 unbind his prisoners take a palmer's staff in hand 
 and go barefooted on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, we 
 will be his intercessors with the Imperial chamber 
 at Ratisbon for his body, and with our father the Pope 
 for his miserable soul." 
 
 In the heart of the Wild Boar astonishment gave 
 place to anger, then to a blind rage like that of the 
 charge of the beast itself. As soon as the Bishop 
 ceased, he looked to Nikkei Blok, and raised his finger 
 without speaking a word. 
 
 The ruffian struck, as if he had been doing his office 
 in the common shambles, and the murdered Bishop 
 sank without a groan at the foot of his own episcopal 
 throne. 
 
 The folk of Liege, who had expected when they 
 heard the bells ring, that there would be a council and 
 the proposing of terms, cried out against the crime with
 
 ON THE KING'S BUSINESS 311 
 
 unanimous horror. But the voice of the Wild Boar 
 was louder than all. 
 
 "How now, ye porkers of Liege!" he shouted, "ye 
 wallowers in the mud of the Maes ! Do ye dare mate 
 yourselves with the Wild Boar of the Ardennes? Up, 
 ye boar's brood ; let these Flemish hogs see your tusks !" 
 
 Every one of his followers instantly started up at 
 his command and, drawing a broad dagger, seized his 
 neighbour by the collar. But no one struck. The 
 townsfolk of Liege were too surprised to resist, and 
 perhaps, even in his carousing, De la Marck did not 
 want to do more than frighten them. 
 
 But Quentin soon gave a new turn to the affair. 
 He took by the throat the young lad near him, the son 
 of the Wild Boar and, they said, the only person of 
 whom he was fond, and crying, "Two can play at that 
 game!" put his dirk at the boy's throat. 
 
 "Hold! Hold! It was but a jest!" cried De la 
 Marck. "But who are you who thus take pledges of 
 us in our very lair?" 
 
 "I am the King of France's archer, sent to watch 
 your proceedings," said Quentin, "and I warn you 
 that, if you behave not differently, then good-by to 
 any hope of help from my master against Charles of 
 Burgundy." 
 
 "France and Liege! France and Liege!" cried
 
 3 i2 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 the burghers, each citizen standing up alongside his 
 companion, the bandit who had so lately had him by 
 the throat, and looking a little wonderingly, hardly yet 
 knowing whether to treat each other as friends or foes. 
 
 But the thought of the coming vengeance of Bur- 
 gundy, and of all that depended on what the King of 
 France did in the matter, made even the Wild Boar's 
 men waver. The leader would dearly have liked to 
 finish Quentin on the spot, as he had already slain the 
 Bishop. But he saw that he would not be supported 
 even by his own followers. 
 
 Therefore he asked Quentin to remain to partake 
 of the feast in the Bishop's castle, ordering the serving- 
 men at the same time to take away "that carrion" 
 which had been the means of introducing so much ill 
 feeling among allies. 
 
 And as he spoke, he pushed the headless body of the 
 Prince Bishop with his foot. 
 
 Quentin thanked William de la Marck, but said that 
 he must remain with the Burgomaster, to whom he had 
 been accredited. Finally they got away, but as Isa- 
 belle was nearly fainting, and speed was the great 
 object, Quentin lifted her in his arms, and Isabelle, 
 throwing one arm about his neck, forgot everything 
 except the desire of escaping from that horrid den. 
 
 It was Trudchen, the pretty daughter of Pavilion,
 
 ON THE KING'S BUSINESS 313 
 
 who devised the means of escape, and provided her 
 own "bachelor" to help which is to say, her sweet- 
 heart. But the Syndic's wife, Mother Mabel, being 
 by nature jealous, would not see either the Countess or 
 Quentin, and it became necessary to leave Liege at once. 
 
 Quentin, suitably arrayed, went to find Isabelle, all 
 ready in the dress of a well-to-do Flemish peasant girl. 
 Meanwhile Trudchen had sent word to her "bachelor" 
 to meet the pair at the eastern gate of the city. His 
 name was Hans Glover, and for recompense Trudchen 
 only asked that the Countess should say nothing about 
 Hans to her father. 
 
 "He is never to see my face again if he cannot guide 
 you safe to the frontier," said Trudchen, "and the 
 world must be changed indeed if two maids and their 
 devoted bachelors cannot succeed in a disguise and an 
 escape !" 
 
 Quentin was now attired like a "boor" of the better 
 class, and there was Trudchen's bachelor duly at the 
 gate, a hearty, healthy, smiling youth of Flanders, 
 good-humoured and kindly, but (thought Quentin) 
 hardly worthy of pretty Trudchen ! 
 
 "Take us to the borders of Brabant !" said Isabelle 
 of Croye. "I go to a prison in my own native country. 
 I know it. The Duke will be very angry, but I shall 
 take care that you do not share his anger."
 
 3 i4 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 "Think only of yourself," said Quentin; " my affairs 
 matter little." 
 
 At two of the afternoon, their guide, pale with fear, 
 brought them word that they were pursued by a party 
 of De la Marck's Black Riders as bad and as cruel 
 men as the world contained. 
 
 The three made for the shelter of a wood. But it 
 was certain that in the end they must have been ridden 
 down, had not a body of knights and men-at-arms 
 issued out at the moment as if to cut them off. 
 
 "They must be Burgundians," said Isabelle; "they 
 have bright armour! Yes,' I see, it is the banner of 
 the Count of Crevecceur, a noble Burgundian. To 
 him I will surrender myself." 
 
 Quentin Durward sighed. His bright dreams of 
 carrying the Countess to Scotland were over in a minute. 
 Though what he would have done with her when he got 
 her there, with Glen Houlakin a wilderness and he as 
 poor as a rat, Quentin could not have told himself. 
 Still, his knight-erranting had been as pleasant as it 
 had been dangerous. But now that it was over, he 
 did not much care (so he told himself) what happened 
 to Quentin Durward ! 
 
 The Black Riders tried to dispute the matter, but 
 a single charge of the Burgundian ended the affair 
 in five minutes. Crying his war-cry and followed by
 
 ON THE KING'S BUSINESS 315 
 
 his men-at-arms, he galloped rapidly forward to charge 
 the Swartz-reiters. They were tumbled every way, 
 having no such discipline and little martial spirit 
 among them. 
 
 Crevecceur told Isabelle that she had used her wings 
 of late to such wild purpose, that she must be content 
 to fold them for a little. However, he would take her 
 himself to Peronne, where the Duke was. She might, 
 he said, chance to stand in need of an intercessor. 
 
 Honest Hans Glover was dismissed with a string of 
 pearls as a remembrance. There was no harm in him, 
 said her new captor. But when Crevecceur looked at 
 Quentin, it was another matter. 
 
 The Countess Isabelle asked that Crevecceur would 
 be pleased to be favourable to "this young gentleman." 
 
 "Umph!" said Crevecceur, looking at Quentin as 
 he had at Hans Glover, but not with the same satis- 
 factory result; "ay, but this is , blade of another 
 temper. And pray what has this very young gentleman 
 done to deserve your intercession?" 
 
 "He has saved my life and honour!" said the 
 Countess. 
 
 The Count asked the youth to ride with him to the 
 front of the party, as soon as Quentin had declared 
 that he belonged to the body-guard of the King of 
 France. He had, he said, "been sent to place the
 
 316 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 ladies under the protection of the late Bishop of 
 Liege!" 
 
 "The late Bishop !" cried Crevecceur; "of what did 
 he die?" 
 
 Then Quentin told the story of the assault and capture 
 of the palace, and of the bloody murder of the Prince 
 Bishop. The Count would hear nothing of Quentin's 
 claims. He must instantly come on with him to the 
 castle of his master at Peronne, to stand the judgment 
 of Charles of Burgundy. And as for Isabelle of Croye, 
 he placed her in the Cistercian convent of Charleroi, 
 where the Lady Abbess was a near relative of his own 
 and also of Isabelle's family. 
 
 When they got to Peronne, a surprise was waiting for 
 them. 
 
 The King of France had ridden into the town, and 
 put himself within the power of the Duke of Burgundy, 
 for the purpose of arranging all disputes, as he said, 
 face to face ! 
 
 "This time the Fox has fallen into his own snare!" 
 thought Crevecceur, when he heard of it. "Balue 
 said when I was at Plessy that he could so work upon 
 the superstitions of his master as to give the Duke the 
 chance of arranging peace on his own terms. But 
 I never thought Louis would have swallowed the bait 
 so like a gudgeon!" 
 
 *******
 
 ON THE KING'S BUSINESS 317 
 
 "And that," said Hugh John, "is the end of one part 
 and the beginning of the next. Another time I will 
 tell you the rest as quickly as I can." 
 
 And accordingly, to the secret pleasure of the young 
 man, I took two sovereigns out of my purse and pre- 
 sented them as a guerdon to the teller of tales. 
 
 "I don't think I should have two," he said a little 
 wistfully; "better wait till the end, like Sweetheart!" 
 
 So, unwilling to check self-sacrifice, I allowed him to 
 give back one of the gold pieces, and to bestow the other 
 with a certain shamefaced pride in his purse. 
 
 Sir Toady regarded his brother with undisguised 
 contempt. He would not give back money that had 
 been given him. Just think what the fellows would 
 say at the Coll.! What heaps of "feeds" could be 
 got for that amount ! Altogether it was too shameful 
 to be dwelt upon. 
 
 "That was a pretty bad business about the Bishop," 
 said Elphie, who was an Orangeman; "not that I 
 hold with bishops myself " 
 
 "What! You would not preserve even bishops!" 
 said the head keeper, with a quaint look at the poacher. 
 
 Elphie scorned the insinuation. 
 
 "Nobody that is a man would do such a thing as 
 that to an old man," he said; "what think you, Neigh- 
 bour Donnan?"
 
 3 i8 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 But the Man of the Steel sat silent, a frown upon his 
 brow. I asked him what was the matter. 
 
 "It's that everlasting misliking of butchers," he said ; 
 "the man who wrote that is always down on us, but 
 I'll wager he liked butcher's meat as well as anybody !" 
 
 "Why, what has Sir Walter done?" I asked, in 
 surprise. 
 
 "He made the 'Butchers' the only guild in the 
 town which joined with that rascal Marck! And it 
 was their Dean of Guild, Nikkei Blok, who chopped 
 off the poor old priest's head. If I had that Nikkei, 
 I would learn him that he had to settle matters with 
 Michael Donnan, for bringing discredit upon the craft." 
 
 I tried to soothe the wrathful butcher of Edam, but 
 he refused all consolation. 
 
 "Pretty hearing this for Nipper, who is wild to list 
 even as it is, if he only dared. But he darsent ! If 
 he did why, one soldier of the King's would have 
 a long spell of hospital, the first time I caught him out ! " 
 
 I pointed out, however, that the moral did not seem 
 to have struck the young man very deeply. From the 
 safe watch-turret of a tree-crotch, Sweetheart was 
 looking down upon a fierce assault which was being 
 delivered upon the Feudal Tower. Arrows began 
 to rain where we stood, and really it was no safe place 
 for peaceable men. I caught the peculiar hist of
 
 ON THE KING'S BUSINESS 319 
 
 catapult ammunition, among ourselves a forbidden 
 weapon in civil or uncivil strife only to be used 
 against the malignant attacks of an outside foe. 
 
 We grown-ups turned our backs upon the stricken 
 field, and as we looked back at the gate, we saw Nipper 
 Donnan, a huge rhubarb-leaf cleaver in his hand, 
 beheading a comic bishop in the person of Sir Toady 
 Lion, while Hugh John, his head turned away from 
 the ribaldry, was secretly worshipping at Mammon's 
 shrine. In other words, he was taking a sly peep at 
 the gold piece lying snugly at the bottom of his purse. 
 
 That night, at Sweetheart's instigation, I went to his 
 room at the churchyard hour, when all the house was 
 asleep, and placed the second beside it so that in 
 the morning I should hear the whoop of delight, and 
 a voice outside the door of my morning study declaring 
 that Master Hugh John was one golden sovereign the 
 nearer his heart's desire an "Aitchison Twenty- 
 Five!" 
 
 For Hugh John liked to view the world afar off 
 through the highest power of field-glass obtainable, 
 then to gird his loins and go forth to seek for the place 
 that had pleased him. At home he was called "The 
 Lost Ten Tribes," because of this wandering Ishmael- 
 itish habit said to have been contracted from a near 
 relative to whom all the children's vices are invariably
 
 320 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 set down. Their virtues, few and doubtful, were all 
 their own. 
 
 HUGH JOHN'S LAST TALE FROM "QUENTIN 
 DURWARD" 
 
 THE KING'S DANGER 
 
 THE nearer hope of the "Aitchison" perhaps 
 quickened Hugh John's imagination. For he was 
 exceedingly ready with his yarn next evening down 
 at the Feudal Tower. There was a full house. And 
 Sir Toady, anxious to make his peace with the keeper, 
 had presented him with an old but very sharp knife for 
 the purpose of cutting his tobacco, before rolling it in 
 his hand. John Chesnay was evidently touched by 
 the attention, but all he said was, "Only mind to keep 
 away from the pheasant coops !" 
 
 Evidently there was a hiatus ; there were then other 
 places, not pheasant coops, to which Sir Toady was to 
 be allowed access. Or, at least, his misdeeds were to 
 be winked at more indulgently than in the past. 
 
 Perhaps a private inspection of Sir Toady's collection 
 of the eggs of local birds of prey, which I had allowed 
 the keeper a glimpse of, had modified his opinion of
 
 THE KING'S DANGER 321 
 
 the results of Sir Toady's occasional presence in his 
 woods. 
 
 "Faint as a figure seen at early dawn, 
 Down at the far end of an avenue, 
 Going he knew not whither " 
 
 That was generally how Keeper Chesnay saw our 
 " Admiral Tuppens. " But now under the new and 
 tacit treaty he agreed to turn his eyes discreetly the 
 other way. Personally, I offered no pledge of good 
 conduct. I only said that he must just hope for the 
 best. 
 
 As for Hugh John, he was entirely non-suspect. 
 He might come and go at will. For his bent was the 
 open face of the scaur, the sky-line ridge, the wilderness 
 of heather and rock, which with the intervention of a 
 river-valley or two ran clear sixty miles to the Solway. 
 
 It was not at the council (continued Hugh John), 
 but in the gayest time of feasting, that the storm 
 broke on Peronne. Louis and Duke Charles were at 
 the banqueting-table. Two hunters, both nobles of 
 Burgundy, entered with faces gloomy and downcast. 
 They had met the Count of Crevecceur, just returned 
 from Brabant. The Duke was impatient to see him, 
 and demanded what news he had brought. But natu- 
 rally neither of the two wanted particularly to be the
 
 322 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 bearer of bad news, so they said nothing till Crevecceur 
 came in himself. 
 
 The guests all knew that something serious was in 
 the air, and Crevecoeur was saluted by his master with 
 the information that he must speak at once, since the 
 very rumour of his coming had chased mirth from the 
 table. 
 
 "I suppose," added the Duke, "from your melan- 
 choly face the burghers of Liege are again in revolt?" 
 
 "They are, my Lord !" said Crevecoeur, very gravely. 
 
 "You could not have brought the news at a better 
 moment," said the Duke; "for here is our own suz- 
 erain to teach us how to deal with traitors. But you 
 have more news in your packet ! Out with it, man, and 
 then explain why you went not forward yourself to 
 assist the Bishop." 
 
 "No aid of mine, my Lord, could have helped the 
 good Bishop ! " said Crevecceur. "William de la Marck, 
 uniting with the rebel Liegeois, has taken the castle 
 of Schonwaldt and murdered him in his own hall!" 
 
 " Murdered him!" said the Duke, in a low and terrible 
 voice; "you have been imposed upon, Crevecceur 
 some wild report " 
 
 "I have it from an archer of the King of France's 
 Scottish Guard, who was in the hall when the Bishop 
 was slaughtered by De la Marck's orders."
 
 THE KING'S DANGER 323 
 
 "And who was doubtless aiding and abetting in the 
 sacrilege," exclaimed the Duke. "Bar the doors of the 
 hall, gentlemen secure the windows let no stranger 
 stir from his seat. Gentlemen of my chamber, draw 
 your swords!" 
 
 And turning toward the King of France, he put one 
 hand to his sword-hilt as if to draw it also and fall 
 on him. But Louis kept cool, showing no fear, and 
 only saying, "These news, fair cousin, have staggered 
 your reason." 
 
 "No," said the Duke, addressing the King, "they 
 have only awakened a just resentment. I will hold 
 myself in no longer. Murderer of thy brother ! Rebel 
 against thy father ! Treacherous ally ! Tyrant over thy 
 subjects ! Perjured king and dishonoured gentleman, 
 thou art in my power, and I thank God for it ! " 
 
 "Thank rather my folly," said the King; "when we 
 met on equal terms at Montl'hery, you wished yourself 
 farther from me than you are now." 
 
 The Duke was still ready to strike, but the King 
 never moved a muscle. So far the King had had 
 decidedly the best of it. The Duke could not strike 
 a man who sat still, smiling quietly and offering no 
 resistance. 
 
 But everywhere there was confusion. Though 
 Dunois was just out of prison (and that no ordinary
 
 324 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 prison), his voice was the first to be heard. He re- 
 minded the Duke that he was a vassal of France, 
 and that they, his guests, were Frenchmen. If any- 
 thing were attempted against the King, the gentlemen 
 of France would feast as high on the best blood of 
 Burgundy as they had done on its wine!" 
 
 Lord Crawford, too, though the oldest there, thrust 
 himself forward, all ready for the fray, crying, "I have 
 fought for his sire and his grandsire, and by Saint 
 Andrew, be the matter what it will, I shall not fail him 
 at this pinch." 
 
 The Duke seemed about to give the signal for a com- 
 bined onset, which could only have ended in the mas- 
 sacre of the French, who were fewer in numbers. 
 But Crevecceur rushed between the King and the 
 Duke and cried in a voice like a trumpet: "My Lord, 
 this is your hall. Here is your sovereign lord. He is 
 your guest. So are these French gentlemen. He 
 came here under your own safeguard. For the sake 
 of your house's honour, do not revenge one horrid 
 murder by another yet more vile." 
 
 "Out of my way!" cried the Duke; "the wrath of 
 kings is to be dreaded like that of heaven!" 
 
 "Only when, like that of heaven, it is just I" cried 
 the undaunted Crevecceur, who could face his own 
 sovereign as well as the King of France; "and I advise
 
 THE KING'S DANGER 325 
 
 you, gentlemen of France, since all would be useless, 
 to put up your swords and take things quietly." 
 
 The King seconded him in this, and bade Orleans, 
 Dunois, Crawford, and the rest to yield up their swords 
 upon their oaths of allegiance. 
 
 The Duke of Burgundy hung a moment in the wind, 
 unwilling to give up his vengeance. Then he said that 
 all Europe should acknowledge his justice. He bade 
 the French yield up their swords, all saving the King. 
 
 But Dunois and Crawford refused, till they were at 
 least assured of the safety of the King. Again Louis 
 commanded them, telling them that the noble Bur- 
 gundians who accepted such pledges would be more 
 able than they to protect him. 
 
 Still the French hesitated, till at last, upon the King's 
 direct command, Crawford threw his sword to Creve- 
 coeur, crying, "Take it, and the devil give you joy 
 of it ! It is no dishonour to me. We had no fair 
 play!" 
 
 Then the Duke, in a voice broken by passion, com- 
 manded the French gentlemen to retain their swords, 
 but only on condition of not using them. He ordered 
 the King to Earl Herbert's Tower, to be kept a prisoner 
 there till matters were cleared up between them and 
 Louis proved to have no part in the slaughter of the 
 Prince Bishop of Liege.
 
 326 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 The King was allowed to choose six gentlemen of his 
 train to wait upon him. The Scottish Guard were 
 to be quartered elsewhere. The Black Walloons were 
 to surround the castle, patrols of horse and foot were to 
 be established, and all sentinels were to be trebled. 
 
 He ended by ordering his men to look to the person 
 of Louis as they valued their lives. 
 
 The choice of the King's companions was a curious 
 one. In fact, everybody talked about it. Instead of 
 choosing Dunois and his great nobles like Orleans, 
 he asked for the attendance of Oliver Dain, his barber, 
 of Tristan 1'Hermite and two of his people, of Le 
 Balafre, and of his astrologer Martius Galeotti. 
 
 Forty serving-men, carrying alternately naked swords 
 and blazing torches, served as Louis's guard from the 
 hall of Peronne to his prison. As he went he saw the 
 slain bodies of some of his Scottish Guard who had 
 disputed the order given to them to quit their post near 
 the King's apartments. The Duke's Walloons had 
 fallen upon them, and before the officers could interfere 
 several lives had been lost. The King paused in sorrow 
 for his faithful Scots, but Le Balafre, just behind, 
 comforted him with the thought that it was numbers 
 that had carried the day. Even he himself, he said, 
 did not care to fight more than two men at once 
 that is, except on special duty, when there was no time 
 for counting heads.
 
 LOUIS ESCORTED TO PRISON BY TORCHLIGHT
 
 THE KING'S DANGER 327 
 
 Once in the King's apartments, events marched 
 toward another tragedy. He was to be guarded in 
 the tower where his predecessor, Charles the Simple, 
 had been murdered. At first all seemed dreary enough, 
 but after passing the great hall, and disturbing the 
 bats and owls which lodged there, they came to the 
 chamber, in which arras had been hastily tacked up, 
 a fire lighted in the rusty grate, and pallets laid down 
 for the gentlemen who were to pass the night there. 
 
 But Louis had in his mind before all other things 
 revenge. Two men had brought him to Peronne by 
 their advice Cardinal Balue and Galeotti, the astrol- 
 oger. He proposed that Galeotti should be hanged 
 on the spot, and it was with this purpose that he had 
 chosen Tristan and his two hangmen as his com- 
 panions for the night. 
 
 However, Galeotti frightened the King by prophesy- 
 ing that his own death should happen within twenty- 
 four hours of the King's. You would not have thought 
 that a thing like that would have frightened a man 
 like Louis, who believed that chivalry and the old way 
 of ruling were all bosh. But it did. 
 
 The block and tackle was reared outside, and Tristan 
 and his two hangmen there told off to do the astrologer's 
 business. But when he heard about his death, Louis 
 was so anxious for Galeotti 's safety, that he kept hold
 
 328 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 of his robe till he had passed under the cord and block, 
 saying all the while, "Go in peace! Go in peace!" 
 
 The Duke Charles was just as disturbed that night 
 indeed, during all the next day and night. His best 
 counsellors preached moderation. But it was hardly 
 in the nature of Charles the Rash to practise it. 
 
 Then Philip de Comines, the great historian of Bur- 
 gundy and a very wise man, was sent to sound Louis 
 on what conditions he was prepared to discuss as the 
 price of getting free. These included the giving up of 
 all feudal claims on Burgundy the Duke to become 
 a reigning king, the yielding of the right to coin money, 
 the marriage of the Duke of Orleans to Isabelle of 
 Croye instead of to the King's daughter these were 
 some of the hard terms which, on the advice of Cam- 
 pobasso, Burgundy had resolved to demand from 
 France. 
 
 There was, in addition, to be a public trial of the 
 accusations made against Louis, of having helped or 
 counselled the murder of the Prince Bishop. Craw- 
 ford and others were in the greatest fear lest Quentin 
 should blame the King for having sent him off with 
 a traitor for a guide. One other person knew of the 
 Bohemian Hayrabbin Isabelle of Croye. So, using 
 his opportunity, Quentin asked for an interview with 
 her perhaps for the purpose of warning her to be
 
 THE KING'S DANGER 329 
 
 silent about the King perhaps for the sake of the 
 kiss with which the interview closed. 
 
 Crawford and Crevecceur had been watching. 
 Crawford laughed, but Crevecceur was very angry. 
 He threatened Quentin with punishment when all 
 these matters of state should be wound up. 
 
 But Lord Crawford good-humouredly bade him 
 "Rein up!" and ordered Quentin on his side to be 
 silent and go to his own quarters. 
 
 "And hark you, Count of Crevecceur," said Craw- 
 ford, after Quentin had gone out of sight, "this young 
 Durward is as good a gentleman as the King only, 
 as the Spanish proverb says, not so rich." 
 
 "Well," said Crevecceur, "I meant no disrespect to 
 yourself or Scotland, but I shall take good care that 
 these two do not meet again." 
 
 "Fire and tow!" said the old lord, still laughing. 
 "They may beat you for all that. Mortal creatures 
 have legs, and youth and love to set them in motion. 
 They will meet in spite of you. Yon kiss, Crevecceur, 
 came tenderly off methinks it was ominous!" 
 
 The Duke himself invited the King to a High Coun- 
 cil, and during the interview Louis was as calm as in 
 his own palace; Charles of Burgundy hoarse with a 
 passion he could hardly contain.
 
 330 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 The Council was marshalled by Toison d'Or, the 
 herald of Burgundy. The King of France was seated 
 in the higher chair, but although he was the sovereign 
 and president, he might just as well have been in the 
 dock as the accused. 
 
 Isabelle of Croye was the first witness called. She 
 stood motionless while the Duke reproached her with 
 having brought two great kingdoms to the brink of 
 war. She had meant to throw herself before Charles 
 and implore him to take all her estates and permit 
 her to retire to a convent. But before these princes 
 and in face of such a storm of anger she could only 
 stand dumb and stricken. 
 
 But the Countess of Crevecceur, who came with her, 
 made no bones about speaking her mind to the Duke, 
 and that pretty firmly. 
 
 "My fair cousin," she said, "is under my protection. 
 I know better than your Grace how women should be 
 treated, and we will leave this presence instantly, un- 
 less you use a tone more suitable to our rank and sex." 
 
 The Duke burst out laughing. "Crevecceur," he 
 said, "your tameness at home has made a lordly dame 
 of your Countess. I would do no harm to the girl 
 yonder. I rather design much honour for her. Let 
 her sit down." 
 
 With that he began to question the girl.
 
 THE KING'S DANGER 331 
 
 Isabelle admitted that to escape the marriage pro- 
 posed for her by the Duke, she and her aunt had fled 
 to France. But the King had certainly not invited 
 her thither, or even treated her very kindly when there. 
 He had placed them in privacy, but had taken the 
 earliest chance of sending them on to Liege to the care 
 of the Bishop. Here the King waved his hands round 
 the circle. He cared nothing for the reproaches of 
 a girl much for the verdict of the Council now 
 assembled. Finally Isabelle asked that her lands 
 and castles might be forfeited and she herself allowed 
 to retire to a convent. This made the Duke yet more 
 angry, for now, to humiliate Louis, he meant to marry 
 her to the Duke of Orleans, and above all he could 
 not bear his will to be thwarted. 
 
 But the Countess of Crevecceur led her away, and 
 Quentin was called on to bear witness in her place. 
 The Duke tried his hardest to make him implicate 
 the King of France. But Quentin, answering simply 
 that he had obeyed his instructions (which he pro- 
 duced in writing), told how he had been treacherously 
 led on by the Bohemian, how he had listened in the 
 willow, and so taken the left bank of the Maes from 
 Namur, as being both the safer and the nearer road to 
 Liege. But Quentin denied that the King had any- 
 thing to do with such treachery.
 
 332 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 "Even if such infamous fellows as the Bohemian 
 or the lanzknecht of William de la Marck had said 
 so, which they did not, I should not have believed 
 them, having the King's word against theirs!" 
 
 At this reply from Quentin Louis drew a long breath, 
 while the Duke looked gloomy. He saw the game was 
 going against him. 
 
 "You are a faithful messenger," said Duke Charles, 
 "but I will wager that but for what happened after, 
 you would have disappointed his expectations in a way 
 you would have smarted for." 
 
 "I do not understand," said Quentin. "King Louis 
 sent me to guard these ladies to Liege. I did it as 
 best I could, both on the journey and during the 
 scenes which followed the taking of the Schonwaldt. 
 I understood the instructions of the King to be hon- 
 ourable, and I executed them honourably. Had they 
 been dishonourable, they would not have suited one 
 of my name or nation!" 
 
 "Fier comme un Ecossais!" said Charles, who, 
 though disappointed, could not help being struck by 
 the boldness of the young Scot, and even, in a way, 
 admiring it. Then he questioned Quentin as to his be- 
 haviour at Liege, asserting that he acted as if he were 
 an envoy of the French King, delivered speeches, and 
 even took it upon him to speak in the name of France.
 
 THE KING'S DANGER 333 
 
 But Quentin showed how he had his charge to defend, 
 and said that he snatched at any weapon just as one 
 may grasp a shield with another man's bearings in 
 a moment of great peril. 
 
 Crevecceur could contain himself no longer, but 
 burst out that his young companion had acted with 
 spirit and good sense ! 
 
 At this moment a herald from the city of Liege was 
 announced. "A herald from nailers and weavers!" 
 cried the Duke, "but admit him at once. Perhaps 
 he will tell us more than this young Archer of the 
 Guard seems inclined to do." 
 
 The herald, more fantastically dressed than usual, 
 carried himself with a mixture of boldness and fear, as 
 if he knew that only the utmost audacity would carry 
 him through the task he had undertaken. 
 
 He declared that he was "Rouge Sanglier, ofncer-at- 
 arms to William de la Marck, by the grace of God and 
 the free election of the chapter, Prince Bishop of Liege." 
 
 "Ha!" said Charles, and subduing his anger bade 
 him go on. 
 
 "And in right of his wife, the Lady Countess Hameline 
 of Croye, Count of Croye and Lord of Bracquemont." 
 
 Charles seemed stricken dumb by such boldness in 
 his presence. The envoy concluded with a request 
 as modest as the prologue.
 
 334 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 "I require you, Duke Charles, to desist from all 
 interference with the city of Liege, to restore its banners, 
 to rebuild its walls, and to acknowledge my master, 
 William de la Marck, as Prince Bishop, to give up to 
 him the castles of Bracquemont and the earldom of 
 Croye!" 
 
 The Duke had allowed the herald to continue, each 
 time marking him up for hotter revenge when he 
 finished. The final straw was when William de la 
 Marck threatened Duke Charles with instant war if he 
 did not " instantly release our ally, the King of France. " 
 
 The Duke, furious with anger, had begun, "Now, 
 by Saint George of Burgundy!" when the King inter- 
 rupted him in a tone of such authority that Charles 
 could not continue. 
 
 "Sirrah herald, or whatever thou art," said Louis, 
 "carry back notice to that perjured outlaw and mur- 
 derer, William de la Marck, that the King of France 
 will be presently before Liege to punish his kinsman's 
 murderer, and that he proposes to gibbet De la Marck 
 alive for terming himself the ally of France, and putting 
 his own royal name into the mouth of one of his base 
 messengers." 
 
 For the herald the Duke ordered "largesse" of a new 
 sort ; that is, to be thoroughly scourged before he was 
 turned out of Peronne.
 
 THE KING'S DANGER 335 
 
 Some of the nobles protested, saying that, after all, 
 he was a herald. 
 
 "No herald," said the Duke. "I see by his blazon- 
 ing that he is no herald. Step forward, Toison d'Or, 
 and question him." 
 
 The herald of Burgundy soon proved, learnedly, that 
 "Rouge Sanglier" was no better than an impostor. 
 The Duke proved it effectively by bringing him to the 
 confession that he was a herald "only for the occasion." 
 
 Whereupon "Rouge Sanglier" was hunted with 
 dogs out of the courtyard of Peronne, affording good 
 sport and making the King and the Duke laugh till 
 they almost grew friends again in their mirth. 
 
 But Oliver Dain whispered to Louis that this was 
 the Bohemian spy, and that on no account must he 
 have speech in private with the Duke. Accordingly, 
 Tristan PHermite stepped forward and claimed him 
 as "game of his." 
 
 "My fleur-de-lys" he said, "is on his shoulder, as 
 all may see." 
 
 So, with the permission of the Duke, they led out 
 the false herald, but true gipsy, to be hanged. He 
 asked only one favour, that he might speak alone with 
 Quentin. And for this Quentin had to pay the exe- 
 cutioners at the easy rate of a guilder a minute. 
 
 The Bohemian told Quentin how he had always
 
 336 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 liked him, and that he would have helped him to a 
 wealthy bride, only that he thought he preferred the 
 elder to the younger lady of Croye. But now he wished 
 to leave his horse to him, and also a great secret, which 
 was that when the Burgundians came to besiege Liege, 
 De la Marck's men were to come out dressed in French 
 uniforms, and he himself was to wear the arms of Dunois. 
 This would set the French and Burgundians at each 
 others' throats and preserve Liege for the cunning 
 Wild Boar of the Ardennes. He knew that he could 
 not withstand the Burgundians in open field, neither 
 defend a town with a broken wall, but he hoped that 
 by setting King's men and Duke's men against each 
 other, he would succeed in winning the French to his 
 side, and so keep the city for himself. 
 
 After the execution of the gipsy, Quentin found him- 
 self richer by a beautiful horse, which came at the 
 whistle the Bohemian had carefully taught him before 
 he was turned off. 
 
 The Duke had set his mind on marrying Isabelle 
 of Croye to the Duke of Orleans. That young man 
 was naturally very glad, but Isabelle would have none 
 of him. The Duke of Burgundy might take her 
 estates, but for the rest it was her purpose to enter the 
 Convent of the Ursulines. 
 
 "The hand of no gentlewoman can be disposed of by
 
 THE KING'S DANGER 337 
 
 force!" said the Countess of Crevecoeur, backing her 
 up. 
 
 This made the Duke exceedingly angry. "She 
 shall be sent to the 'Spinning House,'" he said; "the 
 discipline there will teach her to obey." 
 
 But Crevecoeur interpreted the general murmur of 
 anger. 
 
 "My Lord Duke," he said, "let such a thing not be 
 thought on. If she has done wrong, she must be 
 punished. But it shall be in a manner befitting her 
 rank and ours, who are her relatives!" 
 
 The Duke looked at him with the stare of a bull, but 
 suddenly he gave way, seeing that his very anger was 
 helping the cause of Louis. 
 
 "You are right," he said; "I have a better plan. 
 She has forfeited her estates. We will give them to 
 whoever will bring us the head of the Wild Boar of the 
 Ardennes. And if she will not marry him, to the 
 convent she shall go!" 
 
 Isabelle reminded the Duke that she was the daughter 
 of his old and brave servant, and so ought not to be 
 set up as a prize to all the sworders in the army. 
 
 The Duke answered that so her ancestress had been 
 won, also that he would take care that the winner should 
 be of good birth and a gentleman, however poor. 
 
 "And what of us who have got wives already?"
 
 338 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 demanded Crevecceur; "are we to look on at the game 
 without ever a stroke at the Wild Boar?" 
 
 "Strike in boldly," said the Duke, now altogether 
 taken up with his new idea, "and if you cannot wear 
 her yourself why, let your nephew, Count Stephen, 
 try his eloquence against that of the Lady Abbess." 
 
 Only Le Balafre, saying nothing to any one, went 
 over in his mind an old prophecy of the soothsayer of 
 Glen Houlakin, " that the house of the Durwards should 
 be set up again by a marriage." 
 
 "Now, Saunders Souplejaw, hold thine own!" he 
 said; "never had you such a chance as this to keep 
 your word!" 
 
 The siege of Liege was a great undertaking. The 
 Burgundian army was splendid and powerful, and the 
 best knights in France were there also perhaps, 
 however, more as hostages than as fighters, their 
 numbers being so few by comparison with the Duke's 
 men. 
 
 As they rode out, Quentin handed a letter to Isabelle 
 on the point of his spear. She was sitting with other 
 ladies on a balcony. It was from her aunt Hameline, 
 now the wife of the Wild Boar of the Ardennes. She 
 begged her niece not to believe the reports about
 
 THE ASSAULT ON LIEGE 339 
 
 " William," but to wait till she knew him personally. 
 He had his faults, of course, like other men. William 
 was addicted to wine, but then so had been her grand- 
 sire, the gallant Sir Godfrey. He was somewhat 
 hasty in his temper, but so again had been her brother 
 Reinold of blessed memory. He was blunt in speech. 
 Few Germans were otherwise a little wilful and 
 peremptory, but she believed that all men loved to 
 rule. Finally, if Isabelle would come to the Court of 
 Liege, any little differences as to succession could be 
 got over by marrying her to William's son, the Earl 
 Eberson ! 
 
 But Isabelle was too anxious for vengeance on the 
 murderer of the good Bishop to mind at all what her 
 aunt said. 
 
 However, a postscript was added to the effect that, 
 for purposes of policy, "William'' was going to wear 
 the armorial bearings of Dunois, and that she was busy 
 embroidering the proper coats for the first engagement. 
 
 There was also a slip which had not come from the 
 aunt, "If you do not hear of me soon, and that by the 
 trumpet of fame, count me dead, but not unworthy." 
 
 And it is strange that ere the troops were fully on 
 their march, Quentin received back from an unknown 
 hand the letter of the Lady Hameline, marked with 
 three crosses at the postscript, and the words added:
 
 340 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 "He who feared not the arms of Orleans on the breast 
 of their gallant owner, cannot dread them when dis- 
 played on that of a tyrant and a murderer." 
 
 There could be no proper siege of Liege. After the 
 last battle the walls had never been repaired. But, 
 as usual, the Burgundians underestimated their foe. 
 The breaches had been left purposely undefended, 
 and a part of the Burgundian vanguard, entering too 
 rashly, were fallen upon by the townsfolk and thrown 
 back with a good many killed. 
 
 As the evening grew darker, the fate of the Bur- 
 gundians, still left in the city, became uncertain. Louis 
 made the Duke still more angry by offering to send 
 French men-at-arms into the town to rescue his un- 
 fortunate vanguard. But two Burgundian captains 
 rallied them instead, returning, however, to find their 
 own army in great confusion. 
 
 To complete all, the night came down black as a 
 wolf's mouth. The ground was muddy, and the 
 whole camp was full of captains seeking for their 
 soldiers, and soldiers searching for their proper 
 standards. 
 
 Two villas or pleasure-houses were at last found for 
 the two princes, and a guard was set about each of
 
 THE ASSAULT ON LIEGE 341 
 
 them. The King of France went to the quarters of 
 the Duke, and his arrival was made the occasion for an 
 informal council of war. As they were making out 
 the order of attack the next day, Quentin Durward 
 sent word that he prayed earnestly to be heard, about 
 which there was no difficulty. Quentin revealed the 
 purpose of De la Marck to make a sally under the 
 uniforms and arms of the French, so as to bring 
 discord between the King and the Duke. 
 
 The King said this did not matter to him, because 
 he would order his men to wear white scarfs over their 
 arms, but secretly he was much annoyed with Quentin 
 for blurting out the truth like that. 
 
 "This Scot," he said to Oliver le Dain, "is such 
 a mixture of shrewdness and simplicity that I know not 
 what to make of him. Think of his folly in bringing 
 out honest De la Marck's plan in the face of Bur- 
 gundy, Crevecceur, and all the rest, instead of round- 
 ing it in my ear, and giving me a chance of abetting 
 or defeating it." 
 
 "It is better as it is, sire," said Oliver; "there are 
 many with you, who would not turn against an ally on 
 the field of battle, or put themselves on the side of 
 De la Marck!" 
 
 "Right, Oliver," said the King; "such fools there 
 are in the world. Now go and tell all the captains to
 
 342 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 give the order to shoot as sharply on those who cry, 
 1 France ' and ( Saint Dennis ' as if they cried ' Hell and 
 Satan !' I myself will sleep in my armour !" 
 
 Quentin knew that the assault would not be made 
 till it was light enough in the morning to let the Bur- 
 gundians see the false French uniforms also the 
 Dunois coat-of-arms that the Lady Hameline had lately 
 been busy with for her lord and master. 
 
 The Archers were all ready, and it was Quentin 
 who fired the first shot. As soon as the alarm was 
 given, the King rode off to Duke Charles's camp, as 
 it was of the utmost necessity to persuade that hot- 
 headed leader of his good faith. Louis got there only 
 in time. For the Duke, angry at the onfall of the 
 Liege troops on both sides, was still more disturbed 
 by the cries of "France! " and "Dennis Montjoye!" 
 which came from the followers of the Wild Boar. 
 He had just ordered his men to fire on everything 
 French, black and white. 
 
 The arrival of Louis, attended only by Le Balafre*, 
 Quentin, and half-a-score of Archers, restored con- 
 fidence. Soon the fight closed all along the front. 
 The Duke toiled in the first line, shouting, hacking, 
 and hewing like an ordinary man-at-arms, while in 
 the absence of their general Crevecceur and D'Hym- 
 bercourt acted as the proper leaders, bringing their
 
 THE ASSAULT ON LIEGE 343 
 
 men into array and dismaying the assailants by the use 
 of artillery. 
 
 As usual Louis behaved well. He was calm, col- 
 lected, and sagacious. He neither sought nor avoided 
 danger, and the Burgundian captains, deprived of their 
 proper chief, obeyed him readily. 
 
 Finally, as it was evident that the French had made 
 good their defence, Le Balafre* and Quentin were 
 sent to order Dunois to cut in between the burghers and 
 the city. 
 
 "By Heavens," said Lord Crawford to Dunois, when 
 they got clear at last, "if thou wert not riding by my 
 side, I should say that I saw thee among yonder 
 banditti, marshalling them with thy mace ! " 
 
 "Yes," said Dunois, "yonder is a caitiff with my 
 bearings. For the which I shall presently punish his 
 insolence." 
 
 Quentin begged that the vengeance should be left 
 to him. 
 
 "To thee indeed!" cried Dunois; "well, that is a 
 modest request. But no such an insult allows of 
 no substitute to avenge it!" 
 
 And he gave the order to charge. 
 
 While it lasted it was one of the hottest of fights. 
 The enemy "made the hedgehog," as it was called, 
 with their spears the first rank kneeling, the second 
 stooping, and the third standing behind.
 
 344 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 Nevertheless, Dunois and Quentin fairly broke their 
 way into the phalanx. They contended who should 
 first reach the spot where stood the false Dunois, still 
 urging on and rallying his men. Then Dunois, seeing 
 in another part of the field the usual boar's head and 
 tusks of William de la Marck, called out to Quentin 
 to go on and avenge the arms of Orleans. 
 
 It was in the very breach that Quentin brought this 
 wearer to bay. The Wild Boar stood in his borrowed 
 armour, making terrible use of his mace. Certainly, 
 in the hour of danger, he was a magnificent fighter, 
 however cruel he had been in life. Quentin dismounted 
 and ascended the breach to measure swords with the 
 Wild Boar of the Ardennes, who turned on him with 
 mace uplifted. 
 
 But suddenly the Wild Boar heard behind him the 
 noise of battle. To avoid being taken in the rear, 
 he retreated a body of his own followers keeping 
 about him till at last they were brought to bay by 
 Quentin and the Archers. 
 
 Six of the Wild Boar's brood remained with him to 
 fight it out. They were to perish, he said, but first 
 they would kill as many as they could of these Scottish 
 adventurers. 
 
 Quentin had only time to bid his uncle and com- 
 panions as they were gentlemen to stand back. Dun- 
 ois had given him a charge.
 
 THE KING'S DANGER 345 
 
 Then De la Marck, with a bound like a tiger, and 
 timing his mace to fall along with his weight, sprang 
 upon Quentin, but light of foot and quick of eye, 
 Quentin leaped aside. 
 
 Then they closed, boar and boarhound, Le Balafre 
 roaring for fair play, calling out that he would venture 
 his nephew upon him were he as "wight as Wallace." 
 
 The blows of the despairing robber fell like ham- 
 mer on anvil. But still the quick swordsmanship of 
 Quentin enabled him to escape. The end was near. 
 The Sanglier stood in a puddle of blood, though fight- 
 ing with unabated courage. 
 
 Then (added Hugh John, with a sigh) something 
 happened that spoiled it a bit. But I can't help it. 
 It is in the book. 
 
 Quentin heard behind him a voice which he knew. 
 In a moment he saw that it was Trudchen Pavilion, 
 the girl who had saved both him and the Countess of 
 Croye. She was in great danger and called for his 
 help. Of course, I suppose, he had to go and save 
 her, as she had saved him. But it let in Le Balafre, 
 who in a sharp contest killed the Wild Boar and brought 
 his head to Louis and Charles, where they were hearing 
 claims for services done during the battle. 
 
 Of course the most difficult was to decide who 
 had killed the Sanglier. Crevecceur showed a boar's
 
 346 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 skin such as De la Marck usually wore. Dunois 
 produced a cloven shield with De la Marck's bearings. 
 But Lord Crawford appeared dragging Le Balafre 
 after him like an unwilling mastiff towed in a leash. 
 
 "Away with your hoofs and hides, your painted 
 iron," cried Crawford. "No one save he who slew 
 the Boar can show the tusks!" 
 
 And he flung down before them the bloody head of 
 William de la Marck. 
 
 "Crawford," said Louis, while Duke Charles sat 
 gloomily apart, regretting that he had put so great 
 a prize on such a rash venture, "Crawford, I trust it 
 is one of my faithful Scots who has won the prize." 
 
 "It is Ludovic Lesly, sire, whom we call Le Balafre," 
 answered the old captain of the Guard. 
 
 "But is he noble?" said the Duke; "otherwise our 
 promise is void." 
 
 "He is a cross, ungainly piece of wood enough," 
 said Crawford. "But I will warrant him a branch of 
 the tree of Rothes for all that." 
 
 "Then I have been overhasty," said the Duke; "the 
 fairest and the richest heiress in Burgundy must be the 
 wife of a rude mercenary like this, or die in a convent !" 
 
 "Hold an instant," said Crawford; "hear what the 
 Cavalier Lesly has to say for himself. Speak out, 
 man and a murrain on thee!"
 
 AFTER THE ASSAULT 347 
 
 But Le Balafre was abashed in the presence of so 
 many, and after some tremendous contortions of 
 countenance, all he was able to get out were the 
 words, "Saunders Souplejaw" and then stuck 
 fast. 
 
 Lord Crawford had therefore to speak for him. 
 
 "Your Majesty and your Grace," he said, "it was 
 prophesied by a seer in his own country that his house 
 should be restored by marriage. Now he is, like 
 myself, something the worse for wear. He loves the 
 winehouse better than a lady's summer parlour, and 
 has some barrack tastes and likings. So he resigns 
 the pretensions acquired by slaying the Wild Boar to 
 his nephew who, to be just, did the most of the 
 fighting in any case!" 
 
 The King was delighted when he heard of Quentin's 
 good luck. 
 
 "I can vouch for the youth," he said ; "it was he who 
 made us aware of the night sally." 
 
 "Then," said the Duke, "I suppose I owe him some 
 amends for doubting his word. But I have yet to 
 inquire what are the lady's sentiments toward this 
 fortunate young adventurer!" 
 
 "By the Mass," cried Crevecceur, "from what I saw 
 at a certain wicket, and heard of their wanderings in 
 company, I do not think your Grace need trouble
 
 348 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 about that ! You will find Mistress Isabelle much 
 more amenable to your authority on this occasion!" 
 
 "Of course," said Hugh John, hastening to get in 
 his own criticism ahead of the others, "I would have 
 liked Quentin to finish up the whole thing. But he 
 had to save Trudchen. It was so in the book. I could 
 not make it otherwise!" 
 
 "Dee-ar littol George Washington!" sneered Sir 
 Toady Lion; "like the man who said he had shot 
 ninety-nine ducks with one shot, and they asked him 
 why he did not make it a hundred at once, our Hugh 
 John wouldn't tell a lie for one hum hum duck !" 
 
 This was a lickable offence, and Hugh John with 
 one droop of the eye conveyed a post-dated cheque for 
 the amount to Master Toady. 
 
 "And what came of them after?" said Sweetheart. 
 
 "And did the poor Lady Hameline ever finish that 
 piece of embroidery?" chimed in Maid Margaret, 
 who had plain seams on the brain at the time. Not 
 that she loved them on the contrary. Football 
 with her brothers and trees to climb these pleased 
 her better than all the tapestry in the world. 
 
 The others were somewhat silent, but gradually 
 thawed, till Butcher Donnan heaved himself up
 
 THE NARRATOR IS REWARDED 349 
 
 mountainously from his seat on the hearthstone of the 
 Feudal Tower, and putting a huge paw on Hugh John's 
 shoulder by way of accolade, he made him free of the 
 down-trodden and misrepresented Guild of Fleshers. 
 
 "And, as I said before, whenever you want a bone 
 for the dog, sir, you have only to intimate as much to 
 Nipper there !" 
 
 "And me," said Sir Toady, "how about me, Mister 
 Donnan ? I have a dog too, and as I have to be away 
 so much on his Majesty's service, I can't always see 
 that he is properly fed." 
 
 " Don't trouble, young master," said Keeper Chesnay ; 
 "when I see that ere fox-terrier o' yours, he has mostly 
 three-quarters of him in a rabbit hole." 
 
 "And I don't need to give him no bone," said the 
 butcher, "for he comes to my shop as bold as a County 
 Inspector, and is off with a pound of rump steak 
 (special cut, as like as not, for my own dinner) before 
 I can so much as get my hand on a lump of good 
 stamped brass to throw at him." 
 
 Elphie slowly shook his head, and gazed with ap- 
 preciation at Sir Toady, "He knows how to look after 
 hisself , that tarrier and maybe it is like master, like 
 man, as the sayin' is, if it ain't no offence!" 
 
 As for me, I agreed to see what I could do about 
 the Aitchison x 25 when business took me to the city.
 
 350 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 And with this promise in hand and two sovereigns in 
 his pouch, Hugh John envied not a whit the good luck 
 of Quentin Durward in right of his wife Earl of 
 Croye and Lord of Braquemart. 
 
 "But I wish I had a few uncles like that," said Sir 
 Toady; "it would come in handy for a fellow court- 
 ing done, fighting done, bloody head on the floor, 
 nothing for you to do but to send a postcard to the 
 lady that you will be at her splendid castle with your 
 traps at half-past-five. Then you go in, order dinner, 
 and hang up your hat. That may be soldier's luck, 
 but it does not often happen in the senior service!" 
 
 "See here, Sir Toady," I suggested, "it is your turn 
 next you had better be off to study your tale." 
 
 "All right, father," said the young man, coolly, "I 
 will." 
 
 He changed a handful of small shot from his trousers 
 pocket to one more convenient, looked to the fittings of 
 his catapult, and in a moment was lost in the wood 
 behind, as a trout drops into a pool. 
 
 "Well of all the cheek I never did see!" 
 exclaimed Keeper Chesnay. 
 
 And out of the green depths came back a cheerful 
 cry of "So long, Chesnay keep your pecker up, 
 Chesnay! So long! So long!"
 
 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 TOLD FROM 
 
 THE PIRATE 
 
 AND 
 
 A LEGEND OF MONTROSE
 
 OF all the tales told at the Feudal Tower, none had 
 ever been waited for with such expectation as Sir 
 Toady Lion's. That worthy (or unworthy) knight 
 had so long been airy butterfly, licensed jester, arbiter 
 on woodcraft, birds' eggs, and natural history generally, 
 so various a practical and unpractical jester, such 
 a libertine in speech and action, and generally so much 
 accustomed to play a lone hand that everyone was on 
 tenter-hooks to know what he would do to earn the 
 golden Edwards which attracted him as strongly as 
 any of the others. 
 
 That he would get them, no man doubted. But 
 how? That was the question. 
 
 The youth appeared to give himself no trouble 
 about the matter. He had not been seen with a volume 
 of the Abbotsford save on the very first day of the 
 promise-making, and then the pictures alone seemed 
 to interest him. 
 
 Every known spare moment he had spent in the 
 wood, either alone or in company with Elphie. 
 
 Now it was a noble July evening when we gathered 
 2A 353
 
 354 R D CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 at the Feudal Tower, all of us, I think, a little earlier 
 than usual, like people going to hear a popular preacher 
 or, for that matter, clown. 
 
 But, early as we were, Sir Toady was there before us. 
 Elphie also. They had something laid out on the 
 ruined wall which outlined one side of the Feudal 
 Tower. It was a little too low at that place to be used 
 as sitting accommodation. Whatever was underneath 
 the dust-cloths was hidden, and Sir Toady kept careful 
 guard, while Elphie nodded and smiled upon all like 
 a genial host. 
 
 We of the house descended by the avenue. The 
 elders of the city, which is to say, Butcher Donnan 
 and the head keeper, strolled along the waterside 
 footpath, while various casual youngsters bobbed up 
 suddenly out of the bed of the river, easy to be forded 
 almost anywhere during the drought of these splendid 
 dog-days. 
 
 We were all assembled. All was as it should be. 
 Nobody turned away and not a vacant seat in the house. 
 Sir Toady stood with his cap in his hand, and began, 
 mock-heroically, with a sweeping salutation to the 
 eager little amphitheatre. 
 
 "Ladies, gentlemen, and kids," he said, "we have 
 heard a heap about kings and big pots people, 
 I mean. And Sweetheart and Hugh John are just
 
 THE PRELUDE 355 
 
 busting with ' Ho ! my Liege ' s, and * Hey ! my Lady ' s. 
 But we have not heard anything about the places they 
 ruled over except that they hunted deer and pigs, as 
 it were, in the back garden. 
 
 "Now since 'my home is on the deep' (no, I don't yet 
 command the Channel Fleet !), of course I wanted to tell 
 about that. So I bought a sixpenny Scott's Pirate. 
 And of course I thought it would be a proper worth- 
 the-money pirate like Captain Kidd, with an island, 
 and barrels of treasure, and walking the plank. But 
 I looked over yes, skipped if you like; Sis taught 
 me how the first three hundred pages, and never 
 a pirate ! It was just like the first two volumes of 
 Rob Roy. [Puzzle Find Rob !] 
 
 "Anyway 7 couldn't dig out any pirate not to 
 call a pirate. There was no wicked black schooner, 
 scudding offshore, with rakish masts and a hitch to 
 her trowsies, engaging an East Indiaman, before mak- 
 ing all the East Indians into Spratt's Patent Food 
 for the dog-fishes. There is no coral hereabouts for 
 their bones to be worked up into. 
 
 "But the book was all about Shetland, and I can tell 
 you about that at least about the eggs that come 
 from there. I've got them here." 
 
 A wink to Elphie, and the two of them lifted the 
 dust-sheets and displayed the finest collection of sea-
 
 356 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 birds' eggs in the county as Sir Toady himself 
 obligingly explained. 
 
 "Of course," he said, "these are just the notes, 
 same as in the proper book ! Introduction and Notes 
 by Sir Toady Lion, R.N., here present and certified 
 fit for duty. But you will get the tale as well, don't 
 be afraid, same as if you had all paid for it when 
 it is only father who will. 
 
 "Well," he continued, in a graver tone, " in the place 
 where these eggs came from that is to say, Shetland 
 there was once a fine old fellow, called Magnus 
 Troil. He wasn't Scottish, like us. Nor English, 
 like most of our fellows at the Coll. Nor yet Irish, 
 like Bobs. No, he was Norwegian, and he liked to 
 be called 'Udaller.' If you wanted to buck him all 
 up, and get something fearful nice out of him, you had 
 to address him as 'Jarl,' which is to say Earl. But 
 he wasn't great and grand at all only comfortable, 
 except that he had the misfortune to have two daughters 
 and no fine noble sons ! " 
 
 Here Sir Toady bowed to the company, with a 
 hand laid impressively on his heart, like a man who 
 has to reply to the toast of his own health at a 
 banquet. 
 
 " And there were a lot of men who came to his house, 
 some to see the girls, but more because he always had
 
 THE PRELUDE 357 
 
 the rippingest of feeds. Only to smell the smoke out 
 of the chimney when dinner was cooking was as good 
 as living in a pastry-cook's back-shop and about as 
 filling as looking through the plate-glass windows. 
 
 "But nobody went on the cliffs or by the loch-sides 
 to look at the eggs, because nobody cared about such 
 things in those days except, that is, to eat. And so 
 the big skuas kept up the mountains and dared anybody 
 to go near them. Yes, Bonxie was the King of Shet- 
 land at that time, and I'll bet none of those down at 
 the Udaller's house ever knew it. 
 
 "You see Bonxie is the big skua, and he is about 
 half an eagle. I never saw a great auk except in a 
 museum; but from the silly look of him, I'd back 
 Bonxie to finish him in two rounds. 
 
 "Why, he nearly did for Boss, my dog, when we went 
 there. Bonxie is death on dogs, and battered us all 
 about the head pretty warmly. He made his wings 
 crack like a whip all over the place." 
 
 Then he pointed to a large moss-green, seaweedy- 
 looking egg which occupied a place of honour in his 
 collection. 
 
 "Got that on my last cruise," he said haughtily, 
 "but I shan't tell where. I don't want to get anybody 
 into trouble." 
 
 "I suppose you were with the real Pirate?" said
 
 358 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 Hugh John, to call his ornithological brother back to 
 the realms of the Wizard of the North. 
 
 "No," said Sir Toady, unabashed; "there would 
 have been less poetry and fooling, and more egg- 
 collecting if I had been up there. I don't mind piracy, 
 - at least, not to read about, but all that slack-jaw 
 poetry the fellow called Claud Halcro got off nearly 
 made me sick." 
 
 "You are not required to provide your own criti- 
 cisms," I said to the youth; "that is, not if you want to 
 be paid cash for your story." 
 
 Toady Lion waved his hand about over the 
 eggs. 
 
 "You pay for going into an exhibition, don't you?" 
 he said; "and you will go a long way before you find 
 as fine a one as that; eh, Chesnay?" 
 
 Keeper Chesnay had been wandering from point to 
 point, shaking his head and looking wise. Now he 
 spoke. 
 
 "If I were a betting man, which I ain't, Master 
 Toady," he said, "I could wager that some o' them 
 eggs came from places a deal nearer than the Shetland 
 Islands ay, a deal nearer ! And as for the Pirate, 
 I could put my hand on him this minute, if it were not 
 for the respected gentleman on whose wall we are at 
 present sitting!"
 
 THE PRELUDE 359 
 
 Which, at least, shows the advantage of being 
 respectably connected, if you are a pirate. 
 
 "More story and less Bonxie, please!" said Hugh 
 John, to divert attention. 
 
 "Cover up the pearls !" said Sir Toady, disgustedly, 
 with a pointed Biblical reference for which a more 
 serious person would doubtless have been expelled 
 the meeting. 
 
 Then he struck an attitude and, throwing down an 
 imaginary gauntlet, announced in quarter-deck tones, 
 "You shall have it ha, ha!" 
 
 Accordingly he announced: 
 
 "THE STORY OF PIRATE CLEVELAND, OR, THE 
 BENEVOLENT BUCCANEER." 
 
 "See here," I said, "Toady Lion, let it be understood 
 that there are to be no monkey tricks. We are glad to 
 see your eggs and to hear all about them. But no one 
 is to make fun of any of Sir Walter's books " 
 
 "But what if it is funny?" said the Incorrigible 
 One. 
 
 "Then go and be funny elsewhere," I said ; "there is 
 room enough in the woods " 
 
 "Yes, too much room !" interjected Keeper Chesnay, 
 sorrowfully. He had found specimens of the eggs of 
 some of his rarest game-birds, discreetly retired indeed,
 
 360 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 but easily patent to his practised eye. Only the pheas- 
 ant was conspicuous by its absence. 
 
 "But you said that I could tell the story in my own 
 way!" objected Sir Toady, "and this is my way." 
 
 "Well, then, go on!" I cried, weary of the strife, 
 "or if you can't, leave the way clear for Maid Margaret." 
 
 "Can I have my two sovereigns then?" demanded 
 the ornament of fleets. 
 
 "Certainly not !" I replied, aghast at such superiority 
 of cheek; "not one little half-f arthing ! " 
 
 "And that's worth something too," said Sir Toady. 
 "One of our fellows has one that he says brings him 
 luck. He wears it about his neck night and day." 
 
 "Are you going to tell the story, or are you not?" 
 
 "Certainly certainly " said Toady Lion, with 
 the most innocent expression in the world. "That is 
 what I have been wanting to do for half an hour if 
 only you people would let me!"
 
 SIR TOADY LION'S STORY OF "THE PIRATE," 
 WHICH HE TOLD FOR LOVE 
 
 Now I've dug in that book (said Sir Toady, his 
 hand stealing under the dust-sheet to verify the position 
 of one of his egg-cases), I've dug and I've dug. And 
 all I can find about a pirate is this. 
 
 He was a chap called Captain Cleveland. And at 
 first, and for a long time, nobody took him for a pirate. 
 You see he stayed all day long about the Udaller's 
 house, eating and drinking and thinking of sweet 
 things to say to the girls, especially to Minna, the eldest. 
 She was a girl with lots of go, but somehow had fallen 
 in love with this fellow. You never can tell what girls 
 will be up to. 
 
 Of course he meant to keep away from all his bad 
 associates, whom in the past he had led astray. For 
 his ship was off the coast, and the pirates stepped ashore 
 and took sheep for their dinners, and kissed the girls, 
 and got drinks and dinners without paying for them 
 oh, a lot of dastardly things like that just the 
 same as their own precious Captain was doing all 
 except the sheep. 
 
 But, of course, the Captain was noble, and they were 
 all perfect brutes.
 
 362 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 Well, after the Captain had had the run of the 
 Udaller's house for ever so long, he began to tell Minna 
 who must have been pretty soft to believe one- third 
 of it how he had been all his life fighting the Span- 
 iards on the Spanish main. So she wanted him to 
 stop being a pirate, get a fleet together, set sail, and 
 blow all the Spaniards in the Indies to eternal smither- 
 eens, and come sailing back to claim Minna. 
 
 Of course Captain Cleveland knew a good deal 
 better than that. For he said: "That is all very well. 
 But what if you are a bride or a wife when I come back ! " 
 
 Then she said that she would swear to be true to 
 him, by the Promise of Odin given at the Standing 
 Stones of Stennis. She was full up as a cow in a clover 
 meadow with all that sort of superstitions about 
 Odin and Thor as well as the heroes of her warlike 
 race who had stood up to them and given them fits. 
 
 Of course, after this promise, it was time for her to 
 ask her lover to confide to her "the story of his life." 
 
 [Here Sir Toady sighed audibly.] 
 
 I give it to you as it is in the book (he said sor- 
 rowfully), but if ever a girl asks me for the story of 
 my life I hope I shall make a better use of my 
 opportunities !
 
 THE PIRATE 363 
 
 "I ought to tell you," said the Pirate, "that I spent 
 my earliest years upon a solitary plantation in the 
 little island of Tortuga, under the charge of my father. 
 We were often plundered by the Spaniards, and at 
 last reduced to such a depth of despair, that out of 
 revenge he became a chief of buccaneers. He had 
 good luck and bad luck, but he died suddenly when 
 trying to stop some violence among his comrades. He 
 had been a poor planter, but he died a good pirate. 
 
 "A short while before my father's death, I came, 
 though then very young, into the command of a sloop, 
 manned with thirty as desperate fellows .as ever handled 
 musket. We cruised for a long time with poor success, 
 taking nothing but wretched small craft, laden with 
 turtle and other trumpery. 
 
 "Well, of course, it was all I could do to keep my 
 fellows from revenging on the crews of these baubling 
 shallops the disappointment they had caused us by 
 being so poor. 
 
 "At length we grew desperate, and made a descent 
 on a village where we were told we should intercept 
 the mules of a certain Spanish governor, laden with 
 treasure. We carried the place; but while I was 
 endeavouring to save the inhabitants from the fury 
 of my followers, the muleteers escaped into the 
 woods.
 
 364 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 "This filled the cup of my unpopularity. I was 
 thought to be too tender-hearted for a real working 
 pirate, and my people, who had long been discontented, 
 became openly mutinous. 
 
 "I was deposed from my command in solemn council, 
 and condemned, as having too little luck and too much 
 humanity for my business, to be marooned on one of 
 these little sandy, bushy islets called 'keys,' which are 
 only frequented by the turtle and the sea-fowl. 
 
 "Many of these are said to be haunted some by 
 the demons worshipped by the old inhabitants, some by 
 caciques or native chiefs whom the Spaniards had put 
 to death by torture to compel them to discover their 
 hidden treasures. 
 
 "My place of banishment was about two and a half 
 leagues to the southeast of Bermudas. It was called 
 Coffin Key, and, they said, was all crowded up with 
 spectres. The fellows who landed me would hardly 
 stay there an hour, even in open daylight, and pulled 
 for the sloop, afraid to look behind them. 
 
 "So I was left alone on a speck of sand, surrounded 
 by the boundless Atlantic, and haunted by the most 
 malignant demons. 
 
 "Well, I supported life as well as I could on sea- 
 fowl, aptly called boobies, which were silly enough to 
 let me approach so near that I could knock them down
 
 THE PIRATE 365 
 
 with a stick. I ate also turtle-eggs, when the boobies 
 began to know me better. 
 
 "And the demons? Well, of course, at first I was a 
 good deal scared. I had been brought up among people 
 who were frightened of such things. In broad daylight 
 or in utter darkness I did not mind them much. But 
 in the misty dawn or when night was falling I saw, 
 during my first week on the key, many a dim and un- 
 defined spectre, now resembling a Spaniard with his 
 capa wrapped about him, and his huge sombrero, as 
 large as an umbrella, upon his head. Now I saw in- 
 stead a Dutch sailor, with his rough cap and trunk- 
 hose ; or again an Indian chief with his feathery crown 
 and long lance of cane ! 
 
 "Oh, yes, I always went forward to address them, 
 but I can't help it if you are disappointed when- 
 ever I drew near them, the phantoms changed into 
 a bush, or a piece of driftwood, or a wreath of mist. 
 
 "So at last I cared nothing whatever about them, 
 minding the solitude more than I would half-a-dozen 
 good companionable ghosts. 
 
 "Four weeks of wretched existence did I spend on 
 that islet, when I was relieved by the crew of a vessel 
 which came thither a-turtling. Yet my time of misery 
 was useful to me. For on that barren spot I forged 
 the iron mask which has ever since been my chief
 
 366 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 security against the mutiny or treason of my fol- 
 lowers. 
 
 "I made up my mind to seem no more humane, or 
 better instructed, or softer-hearted than the others. 
 Brave, skilful, and enterprising I had been before, but 
 now I resolved to sink all the better part of me in the 
 rude seaman. 
 
 "Soon after my escape I was at the head of a new 
 body of these reckless adventurers. I sought after 
 those who had betrayed my father, and on them I 
 took a revenge which was sufficient to stamp me with 
 a name for inexorable ferocity. I wanted my men to 
 think I was really like that. My speech, manner, 
 everything, seemed totally changed. So much so that 
 those who knew me before put the difference down to 
 my intercourse with the demons that haunted the sands 
 of Coffin Key." 
 
 And that (said Toady Lion, lifting his eyes sud- 
 denly from the back of Elphie's coat, on which, it is 
 now suspected, a leaf of the sixpenny Pirate had been 
 pinned) is what Captain Cleveland the Pirate told 
 Minna Troil about his own life. What is more won- 
 derful, she believed him. 
 
 After that she urged him to reform, and he said he 
 would, though going on living upon her father all the 
 while. He might have succeeded, too, only that the
 
 THE PIRATE 367 
 
 Udaller was captured along with his daughters by these 
 very pirates under their new captain, a rascal named 
 Goffe, and a jolly kind of fellow called Jack Bunce, 
 who had learned to be a pirate while an actor in 
 London. 
 
 On board the pirate ship they drank punch in cans 
 and made merry on deck. For their Captain Cleve- 
 land was still on shore, and it took Jack Bunce all his 
 time to get the girls sent safely to Kirkwall. But they 
 kept the Udaller as a hostage for their Captain, and 
 also to get provisions from the Kirkwall people for the 
 voyage. 
 
 Minna and Brenda would hardly leave their father, 
 but he bade them begone as soon as possible while the 
 pirates were in the mood. As for him, he cared little 
 for himself so long as his daughters were safe. 
 
 Bunce, who was Cleveland's best helper, gave Minna 
 a pistol to defend them both, as he himself had to 
 remain by the ship. Minna left word with her guide 
 that whatever was the answer from the town, the pirates 
 were to take their ship round to Stromness and send a 
 boat ashore for Captain Cleveland when he should see 
 a smoke on the Bridge of Broisgar, a kind of rocky 
 point jutting out into the sea. 
 
 Cleveland was still a hostage in Kirkwall. He was 
 watched, but not kept in prison. He was allowed to
 
 368 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 walk about and being a pirate, of course, he never 
 went near the public-houses, but spent his time in the 
 Cathedral, mourning that no one would put up a 
 marble monument with armorial bearings over him! 
 
 11 My whitening bones," he said, "will swing in the 
 gibbet-irons, on some wild beach or lonely cape, and 
 the old mariner, as he passes the Sound, will shake his 
 head and tell of my name and actions as a warning to 
 his younger comrades." [At this point the tale-teller 
 was again called to order.] 
 
 Well, anyway (he continued), he was just enlivening 
 himself up with thoughts like these, when Minna 
 Troil stood beside him. She told him how that she 
 had been among the pirates and had been saved by 
 the power of his name "which was all that reminded 
 her of the noble qualities she had once thought her 
 Cleveland's!" 
 
 "Yes," he said proudly, "my name has power over 
 them even when at their wildest. But what can I do 
 for your father?" 
 
 Minna told him to take her cloak and steal out in the 
 gloaming. Wrapped in that, he could easily pass the 
 guards, to whom she had given the means of carousing. 
 By that time they would not know the difference be- 
 tween a six-foot pirate and the prettiest girl in Kirk- 
 wall. Then he was to go to the Bridge of Broisgar,
 
 BUNCE GAVE MINNA A PISTOL.'
 
 THE PIRATE 369 
 
 and the vessel he commanded would send a boat ashore 
 for him. 
 
 The Pirate cast his eyes up to heaven and said he 
 would flee for her father's sake! Then Minna went 
 to the house where she lodged, where she told the 
 magistrate (when he came to make inquiries) that she 
 had parted with Cleveland in the Cathedral about two 
 hours before. 
 
 Well (continued Toady Lion), as soon as Cleveland 
 got on board of the Fortune's Favourite (which was the 
 name of his pirate ship), he ordered Magnus Troil to 
 be put on shore pretty quick. And he saw that it was 
 done, too. 
 
 But it wasn't all finished then, as you might think. 
 What did this Minna Troil do, but she must go and 
 stay at a lonely place called the House of Stennis, all 
 because she had got a letter from Cleveland asking 
 her for a "last interview." It was written in character 
 "more like fire than ink" gold paint, most likely. 
 
 Now Cleveland was a first-class fool, because he was 
 risking his neck, and Minna and Brenda were two more 
 to leave a safe town and put themselves where they 
 might be easily captured. Indeed, they came mighty 
 near it, as it was. For Jack Bunce resolved to carry 
 them off, as soon as he heard of it. He thought he 
 was a little in love with Brenda himself, and that if
 
 370 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 Minna was so sick about his captain, her sister might 
 fancy him. But it didn't work. For you see there 
 was another fellow called Mordaunt looking after the 
 girls especially Brenda. He had raised quite a 
 decent little force of men, and generally turned out as 
 plucky as they are made. Mordaunt didn't like pirates 
 especially Cleveland. So he had sent word to one 
 of his Majesty's ships, the Halcyon, to come up from 
 Wick and blow the Fortune's Favourite out of the 
 water. 
 
 The "last interview" was to take place at the Stand- 
 ing Stones of Stennis a place like Stonehenge at 
 sunrise, when the black-backed gulls were just leaving 
 their nests, and the guillemots rising like so many white 
 dots into the air off the shelves. (Show the eggs, 
 Elphie, please ! That's right !) 
 
 But I don't believe either Minna or the Pirate ever 
 noticed them. Nor yet the Pirate's crew, who were 
 creeping up to nail the girls. Nor yet Mordaunt and 
 his men, who had cut in between them and their boats. 
 
 Cleveland did not get much good out of his "last 
 farewell." For Minna had just done calling him an 
 "unhappy man," asking him "Why didst thou seek 
 this aggravation of our woe?" and telling him to "de- 
 part in peace" when Mordaunt and his men set on 
 the sailors, and the sailors on the girls, or t'other way
 
 THE PIRATE 371 
 
 about. Anyhow, it was pretty mixed for a while. But 
 when the scrimmage cleared a bit, Mordaunt, who 
 had seen the sisters in full flight to the house, advanced 
 on Cleveland, with his cutlass drawn. Then the 
 Pirate did his best for the last time, and it was a 
 corker ! 
 
 "Mordaunt," he said, as he fired his pistol in the 
 air, "/ never missed my aim" 
 
 All the same he was a noble pirate and allowed him- 
 self to be taken peaceful-like, to avoid any disturbance. 
 Indeed, he created quite a lot of sympathy. The cap- 
 tain of the Halcyon man-of-war found out that Cleve- 
 land had done a lot of fearfully noble things out in the 
 Indies saved Spanish ladies and got tipped the 
 "black-spot" for it. He seemed to have passed his 
 life that way. Indeed (Sir Toady summed up), any one 
 less fitted than Cleveland for the responsible post of 
 pirate captain, I have not come across in dll my reading. 
 
 ["No comments, sir, if you want any of the prize- 
 money," I said. Sir Toady touched his cap, navy- 
 fashion, and resumed.] 
 
 When at last the Fortune's Favourite did show some 
 fight against the Halcyon, her captain and Jack Bunce 
 were snugly jailed in the House of Stennis. 
 
 They saw old Goffe mistake his Majesty's ship for 
 a West Indiaman laden with rum and sugar. He
 
 372 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 slipped his cable and gave chase, when his only chance 
 was to run into shallow water. This made them mad. 
 
 "The fool! the dotard! the drivelling, drunken 
 idiot!" said Cleveland; "now he will get his flip hot 
 enough, for that ship is the frigate Halcyon. Look 
 she hoists her colours and fires a broadside. There 
 will soon be an end of the Fortune's Favourite. I only 
 hope they will fight her to the last plank." 
 
 Well, they did what they could (said Sir Toady), 
 after all that naval language (why couldn't he have 
 talked like that to Minna?). Then the Jolly Hodge, 
 which is to say the Jolly Roger, went up the pirate's 
 death's head and cross-bones, or sand-glass as they 
 had then. 
 
 The sloop, though hard pressed, maintained a running 
 fight, the frigate in full chase, without firing, showing 
 that she wanted to board and take her for the sake of 
 the plunder on board. 
 
 " Now, Goffe now, boatswain !" exclaimed Cleve- 
 land, "stand by sheets and tacks rake her with a 
 broadside, when you are under her bows. Then about 
 ship and go off on the other tack like a wild goose. 
 The sails shiver the helm's a-lee ah, deep sea 
 sink the lubbers ! They miss stays and the frigate 
 runs them aboard!" 
 
 Now (said Sir Toady, who felt that this was really
 
 THE PIRATE 373 
 
 a naval matter), that's what the fellow said issued 
 his orders at two miles' distance through a spy-glass 
 instead of commanding on his own quarter-deck like 
 a man all because he wanted to hear a girl slang 
 him for the last time. Blow (concluded the naval 
 hero, contemptuously) ! I don't care if I do get docked 
 for it, but I will say that this Mister Cleveland may 
 have been a good pirate, but he was no good officer. 
 He never stood by his ship for more than five minutes 
 at a time, and then even he was on tenter-hooks to get 
 sneaking off again. 
 
 [This, being expert opinion, was allowed to pass, 
 specially as the critic had really risked his all upon his 
 criticism, and, as it were, signed his name in full at the 
 bottom.] 
 
 Well (he continued), the pirates couldn't even blow 
 up the ship properly not enough gunpowder just 
 a fizz and some black smoke. Then Cleveland and 
 Bunce were sent for by the captain of the Halcyon 
 as you would have thought, to be hung. But instead, 
 it was found out that Cleveland had been formerly 
 called Clement Vaughan. He was a long-lost half- 
 brother of his captor Mordaunt, and once he had pro- 
 tected, at the hazard of his own life, two noble Spanish
 
 374 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 ladies. So had Jack Bunce just the same, all except 
 the half-brother. And the captain called them "the 
 Quempoa heroes" and very nearly gave them his own 
 cabin ! They were a different sort from our captains 
 now weather eye not nearly so wide open, and this 
 Halcyon fellow was easy to "green" oh, remarkable ! 
 I wish we could get round our "owners" as easy ! The 
 navy would be a happier place ! 
 
 ["Ah, me!" sighed Sir Toady Lion.] 
 
 Well (he continued), Cleveland, Bunce, and one or 
 two of the less guilty pirates were employed in the West 
 India service. They became distinguished for putting 
 down piracy in the Spanish main. In this good work 
 the ex-pirate Cleveland was much helped by a letter 
 from Minna the last of all her last wills and testa- 
 ments. It began, "Farewell, Cleveland! We part 
 forever, and it is right that we should. Be virtuous 
 and be happy!" 
 
 And Cleveland, with a deep emotion, which he testi- 
 fied even by tears, read it a hundred times over, and 
 then clasped it to his bosom. 
 
 End of the Pirate Molly-coddle! (cried Sir Toady, 
 joyously, unable to resist the epithet). 
 
 ******* 
 
 Again I felt it was my duty to check Master Toady,
 
 JUDGEMENT 375 
 
 to whom I intimated very plainly that his tale had not 
 been related in the proper spirit. And that, till he 
 told another with less mockery, and with more reverence, 
 no money would pass between us. 
 
 "But you said that I was to tell the story in my own 
 way!" urged Sir Toady. 
 
 "Certainly," I answered, "but let that be a reverent 
 way!" Here Sir Toady spread his hands abroad to 
 signify that I was asking impossibilities, and I must 
 add that the audience generally agreed with him. So, 
 in deference to this feeling, I temporised: "Well, then, 
 take some book which you really like tell the story 
 as well as you can, without monkey tricks, and I will 
 give you your two guineas like the others." 
 
 "Even if the story be shorter?" said Sir Toady. 
 
 "Even if " I said. 
 
 "I couldn't have half a sov now, on account, could 
 I?" he suggested. 
 
 My answer to this was the more emphatic of the two 
 monosyllables available. 
 
 But Sir Toady did not seem at all cast down. He 
 suggested that the audience might see their way to 
 "taking up a collection." Then, finding this vetoed, 
 he said that he was prepared to sell a dozen selected 
 eggs, properly blown and labelled, for ten shillings. 
 There were no takers. So he and Elphie sadly slid
 
 376 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 the lids on the cases of eggs and began to carry them up 
 to the harness-room. 
 
 Our three grown-up guests were clearly not of my 
 faction. As for Elphie, his disapproval was expressed 
 even in the contours of his back, but I was not prepared 
 for the strong feeling of John Chesnay in the matter. 
 
 "Discipline is discipline." he said gravely; "I know 
 it well. But it do seem to me begging your pardon, 
 sir that you was just a bit overhard on the young 
 gentleman. 'Twas a good story as he told it, and I 
 never did hold wi' pirates. Though I will not deny 
 that there Captain Kidd and Amory Black Beard and 
 the rest make interesting readin' in old Johnston's 
 Lives of Pirates and Sea Robbers" 
 
 Butcher Donnan stood by his original proposal 
 "to make up a bit for the young gentleman !" He had 
 not seen anything funny or improper in the telling of 
 the tale, and considered the conclusion both edifying 
 and instructive. So much so, that he called Nipper's 
 wandering attention to the value of immediate reform 
 in the matter of getting up in the morning founding 
 his argument in some vague way on the good services 
 of Captain Cleveland, reformed pirate, on that very 
 Spanish main which he had once filled with his iniqui- 
 ties. 
 
 "All very well," grumbled Nipper; "I would get up
 
 JUDGEMENT 377 
 
 in the morning, too, if, instead of having the shop to 
 brush out, I could make my living catching pirates on 
 the Spanish main." 
 
 "You do what I tell you, Nipper," said his father, 
 "or what I'll give you will be worse than all them 
 faked pirates put together! You hear?" 
 
 "Yes, sir!" said Nipper Donnan. 
 
 His father gazed fixedly at Nipper for a good while, 
 as if to make sure that he understood. Nipper did not 
 disappoint an anxious parent. Any more obedient 
 boy than Nipper at that moment could not have been 
 found in half-a-dozen counties. Convinced on this 
 point, Butcher Donnan returned to the charge. 
 
 "I like the young gentleman's tales," he said; "and 
 if he does carry his tail a bit high like his own fox- 
 terrier well, that's naught again' a sailor as ever I 
 heard!" 
 
 "Well," I said, "we will give him another chance. 
 So far as the past is concerned, I can't go back on what 
 I have said." 
 
 "Well, no !" said both men together, "of course not; 
 but if we was you, sir, we should go a bit easy on him 
 the next go ! " 
 
 The only person entirely uninterested was apparently 
 Sir Toady himself. He was listening to the proposals 
 of his elder brother, who, as a budding soldier, had
 
 378 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 become attached as "galloper" to the local corps of 
 volunteers. There was to be a sham fight on Saturday, 
 and it was the purpose of both boys to be good active 
 scouts, and to keep the local commander-in-chief well 
 posted as to movements of the enemy advancing from 
 the great city of Dunedin. 
 
 As he listened Toady grinned approval. He ought 
 to have been deep in his new book, but for that very 
 reason Saturday was sure to find him on the 
 moors. 
 
 There was much fighting. Deadly deeds of valour 
 were done with blank cartridge. Hugh John, far in 
 front of the firing line, worked his Aitchison, and rode 
 back to make his reports in noble style. More than 
 once the two heroes were almost captured, so far did 
 Hugh John push his reconnoissances against the in- 
 vaders. Then, blotted from sight behind a hastily 
 raised mound of peat, he took stock of the enemy's 
 numbers and line of advance. What was his horror, 
 on turning round, filled with all the noble enthusiasm 
 of war, to find Sir Toady eagerly scanning the ground 
 in search of birds' eggs ! 
 
 "Lie down, Toady Lion; don't you know you're 
 under fire?" hissed Hugh John. "Lie down, or I'll 
 lick you ! " 
 
 "It's a ring-ouzel," said Sir Toady, calmly, continu-
 
 ANOTHER PIRATE 379 
 
 ing his search; "first I've seen on the moors this year. 
 There's his mate. Its nest is bound to be somewhere 
 about." 
 
 "Lie down, Toad; you hear me?" growled his elder 
 brother. "Don't you know we have got to fall back in 
 ten minutes? They are advancing!" 
 
 "Oh, are they?" said Sir Toady, all unmoved. "Ten 
 minutes isn't much, but I'll do my best!" 
 
 And he continued his search among the scattered 
 bushes of gorse and heather. At last, under the shelter 
 of a juniper bush overhanging a steep bank, he found 
 a nest of coarse grass, mud plastered, and lined with soft 
 grass and feathers. Four eggs were within, pale sea- 
 green with dots of Vandyke brown the property of 
 the aforesaid ring-ouzel without a doubt. 
 
 He bounded upon the find with joy. 
 
 "I'll take two she will lay six," said the egg- 
 collector. " Charging, are they ? Well, let them charge ! 
 Their old colonel is a friend of father's. I'm going to 
 have the eggs!" 
 
 " Fall back fall back ! Don't you hear the bugle ? " 
 cried Hugh John. 
 
 " Oh, I hear well enough, but I'm going to have the 
 eggs!" and the young martyr to science put three in 
 his mouth an extra one to make sure. 
 
 "See here, Toad," cried Hugh John, fairly out of
 
 380 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 himself, "if you don't fall back when you are ordered, 
 I'll smash you and your eggs too ! " 
 
 Accordingly they mounted their steely steeds, and 
 made good going across country, bumping and swaying 
 as they went. 
 
 "I say, Toadums," said Hugh John, hours after- 
 wards, when peace had been made, "what made you 
 gasp and guggle when we had to ride through that 
 ditch to escape being nailed?" 
 
 "Ring-ouzel's egg in my mouth," explained the young 
 man, simply; " half -hatched it was. Beastly! That 
 one broke. But the other two are all right. I've 
 blown them. Luck, wasn't it?" 
 
 "Toadums, you're a beast!" exclaimed his elder 
 brother ; " but I really don't think you can help it." 
 
 THE SECOND RED CAP TALE, WHICH TOADY 
 LION TOLD FOR MONEY 
 
 "BOUND to have the gelt this time," Sir Toady 
 prophesied cheerfully, as he lay on his breast and el- 
 bows over a green-covered volume with pictures. "This 
 looks the shortest one, anyway, and there's a funny man 
 in it. So father can't dock me for being like him 
 wish I had thought of that sooner!"
 
 THE SECOND TALE 381 
 
 "Dry up, and get through with it," said Hugh John; 
 "then you can pay me back the half-sov you borrowed 
 out of my money when I settled last week !" 
 
 There was silence deep as death, only broken by 
 the sound of rustling leaves and the muttered explana- 
 tions of Sir Toady, as he worked his way through what 
 he called (unlawfully) talkee-talkee. There was also 
 the dry rub of India-rubber as Hugh John fixed on 
 paper the various phases of the great engagement of 
 Saturday last. 
 
 Presently Sir Toady got up and looked over his 
 shoulder. "I say, are you going to keep that for ever 
 and ever?" he demanded. 
 
 "Certainly," said the fearless Hugh John not 
 knowing the future exigencies which would reduce his 
 baggage of campaign to one valise of the lightest make. 
 
 "Well, then, let me mark on your map my ring- 
 ouzel's nest, the number of eggs, and the date !" 
 
 The words which Hugh John used with regard to 
 that poor plundered ring-ouzel and its nest have really 
 no bearing upon the story. So they are better 
 omitted. 
 
 Sir Toady said he did not care. He could do better. 
 So he went and got out his Saunders's British Birds. 
 In it he made an entry on the margin of facts and dates 
 which was indeed much more practical. Then, with
 
 382 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 a sigh, he lay down again, and committed himself to a 
 study of 
 
 A LEGEND OF MONTROSE 
 
 This is the way he told it that night at the Feudal 
 Tower. 
 
 There was a clan in the Highlands called the Chil- 
 dren of the Mist, and their proper name was the 
 McEaghs. They were very savage and dangerous and 
 they hated the next clan, the McAulays, as much as 
 if they had had to translate one of their chief's essays 
 into Latin prose, as I have had often ! 
 
 ["Toady!" said I, warningly.] 
 
 That's local colour! (said the historian of the 
 earlier McAulays, triumphantly). And without waiting 
 for a reply, he proceeded. 
 
 Now these McEaghs, or Children of the Mist, were 
 a tough lot. And just because the King had promoted 
 McAulay's brother-in-law to be the warden of the 
 Royal Forest, they lay in wait for him, and had his 
 head off before he could say well, anything. Then 
 these Children of the Mist were not satisfied with that, 
 but went off to the castle of his brother-in-law. The 
 laird was absent, luckily for him, but the lady of the 
 house, the warden's sister, did her best for them, spread- 
 ing the table and even going out herself to get them 
 good things to eat.
 
 A LEGEND OF MONTROSE 383 
 
 While she was gone, the Children of the Mist thought 
 it was a good joke to put her own brother's head on 
 the table with a piece of bread between his teeth, bidding 
 them do their office now, for many a good meal they 
 had eaten there ! 
 
 When his sister came back and saw her brother's 
 head, she fled like an arrow out of the house into the 
 woods, crying out as if she was mad. And I daresay 
 so she was and no wonder. 
 
 Indeed she was thought to be dead. For the 
 McEaghs went away, thinking they had done enough, 
 while the servants and her husband sought her every- 
 where in vain. The barons and people all about took 
 arms against the Children of the Mist and made seven- 
 teen heads pay for the one. But still no sign of the lost 
 lady! 
 
 But it is the custom in summer to send the cows to 
 the upland pastures for the sake of the grass, and the 
 maids of the village and the daughters of the family 
 go up to milk them morning and evening. 
 
 While they were doing this, they saw that they were 
 being watched at a distance by a pale, thin, meagre 
 figure some thought the ghost of their lost mis- 
 tress. 
 
 Some started to seek her, but she fled with a wild 
 shriek. However, her husband managed to find her and
 
 384 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 bring her home. She was, as you may think, quite mad. 
 No one knew how she had kept herself alive. Some 
 said she had been nourished by the fairies, or that the wild 
 does had given her milk. But pignuts and raspberries 
 had more likely to do with it not to speak of other 
 things / could find wild strawberries, blackberries, 
 cranberries, and so on. Anyway, she was alive, and 
 when her second little boy was born, soon after, she had 
 sense enough to teach him how to hate the Children 
 of the Mist. Then she died. 
 
 When little Allan grew bigger, instead of going after 
 birds' eggs and things like that, he hunted the Children 
 of the Mist. Sometimes he got the head of a chief, 
 sometimes of a common man, sometimes two at a 
 time ! He brought them home with him as proudly 
 as if they had been nice rare flowers he had been look- 
 ing for a long while. 
 
 But he was pretty strong as well as wary, and being 
 cracky into the bargain, people generally let him alone. 
 Besides, so long as he only killed McEaghs, nobody 
 minded. On the contrary, they gave him good-conduct 
 marks. 
 
 The Children of the Mist minded, though, you may 
 be sure. Neither gun, dirk, nor bow and arrow were 
 any good against Allan McAulay. They said the 
 fairies had taught him, and so it came to pass that
 
 A LEGEND OF MONTROSE 385 
 
 half a dozen of the stoutest Caterans in the Highlands 
 would take to their heels at a blast of Allan's horn. 
 
 Allan lived in the house of his brother, who was now 
 the head of the clan. It was the time when the Scottish 
 Cavaliers were going to try their first rising against the 
 Covenanters. A Scottish army was in England help- 
 ing the Parliament against Charles I, and every one 
 thought the time was well chosen the best that could 
 be, in fact. 
 
 There was to be a gathering of Highland chiefs at 
 McAulay's, and the laird had come back out of England 
 with two English gentlemen, Sir Miles Musgrave and 
 Christopher Hall. The old servant of the house, 
 Donald, was in great fear about a wager that his mas- 
 ter had taken on in England, which was that he had 
 more candlesticks and better candlesticks in his castle 
 at home than were to be found in any hall in Cumber- 
 land. 
 
 "At Musgrave Hall there were six, all of solid silver, 
 on the table at the time," said Donald, "and the Eng- 
 lish gentlemen clinked the laird down for a bet of two 
 hundred marks as fast as a Lowland smith could ham- 
 mer shoon on a Highland shelty. So he took the wager, 
 rather than be shamed before the Englishmen and 
 I think (added the old man) that is what is keeping 
 him so long at the hill !" 
 
 2C.
 
 3 86 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 Mad Allan, who had been brooding on the settle, 
 and apparently not listening, suddenly ordered every- 
 body out. And though there was present Lord Mon- 
 teith and a Scottish captain who had been in the wars 
 of the great Gustavus Adolphus, they went. Because 
 in the Highlands it was not thought safe to go against 
 the wish of one who was mad. ["I should not have 
 judged it safe in Allan's case, anyway," interjected Sir 
 Toady, feeling if his head were safely fixed on.] 
 
 There was also a man named Anderson (he con- 
 tinued), who was said to be a follower of Lord Mon- 
 teith's, but he seemed pretty sure of himself to be 
 only a servant. And indeed his master talked to him 
 constantly. So when the Chief came in with the 
 English gentlemen off the hill, they had all to go in to 
 dinner, and McAulay was very doleful at the thought 
 of where he was to find all that money to pay the bet, 
 even if he borrowed it out of twenty purses. 
 
 For there were no candlesticks in the house, except 
 the old iron branches that had been there ever since 
 Laird Kenneth's time, and some tin sconces made by 
 Willie Winkie the tinkler when the laird's father was 
 alive. 
 
 But Allan had found a way to clear his brother and 
 chief, and do honour to his clan at the same time. 
 
 The two English gentlemen were ushered into the
 
 A LEGEND OF MONTROSE 387 
 
 great hall. The large oaken table was spread with 
 substantial joints of meat. The seats were placed in 
 order for the guests. 
 
 Behind every chair stood a gigantic Highlander, 
 completely dressed and armed in Highland fashion. 
 He held in his right hand his drawn sword, with the 
 point turned downwards, and in the left a blazing torch 
 made of the bog-pine. 
 
 The Englishmen were startled by the red glare of 
 the torches, the strange dress, the glittering arms of 
 the "Laird's Candlesticks," while the smoke eddying 
 up to the roof of the hall made a canopy of vapour 
 over their heads. 
 
 Then Allan, pointing with his sheathed broadsword, 
 said, "Behold, gentlemen Cavaliers, the chandeliers of 
 my brother's house, the ancient custom of our name. 
 Not one of them knows any law but his chief's com- 
 mands. Would you compare to them the richest ore 
 that was ever dug out of mine? How say you, Cava- 
 liers? Is your wager won or lost?" 
 
 "Lost lost!" said Musgrave, gaily; "my own 
 silver candlesticks are all melted down and riding upon 
 horseback by this time. I only wish the fellows I en- 
 listed were half as trusty as these!"
 
 3 88 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 THE TALE OF CAPTAIN DALGETTY AND THE CHILDREN 
 OF THE MIST 
 
 He thought a great deal of himself, this Scottish 
 soldier who had followed Lord Monteith to the gather- 
 ing of the clans. He had been sometime a student at 
 Mareschal College, Aberdeen. He had fought long 
 in the wars of Gustavus Adolphus, under the Emperor. 
 He had taken service with the Spaniards, and after- 
 wards with the Dutch. 
 
 But hearing that there was something doing in his 
 own country that year, he had come over to take service 
 either with the Covenanters or against them, according 
 as he could get the highest pay. 
 
 He did not care a button for whom he fought, so that 
 he got his wages. But for half-a-dollar a day Montrose 
 arranged with him to drill the Irish levies sent over by 
 the Earl of Antrim. And so long as he was in the ser- 
 vice, Dalgetty would be faithful to his general. So 
 much he promised and meant to hold to. 
 
 Now the Marquis of Argyle was the head of the 
 Covenanters in Scotland. He was called Gillespie 
 Grumach, because he squinted, and he liked to do 
 things quietly and (some people thought) treacher- 
 ously. At any rate, he was Grand Justicer of Scot- 
 land and could hang and behead anybody he liked.
 
 BEHIND EVERY CHAIR STOOD A GIGANTIC HIGHLANDER.'
 
 THE TALE OF CAPTAIN DALGETTY 389 
 
 Sir Duncan Campbell of Ardenvohr, a relative of 
 Argyle's, had come as a kind of messenger to the assem- 
 bled chiefs at the house of McAulay, and Captain 
 Dalgetty was sent back to the Marquis of Argyle with 
 Montrose's answer, but chiefly perhaps to keep his eyes 
 about him and spy out the strength of the enemy. 
 
 But Gillespie Grumach was a difficult person to 
 play the spy upon. He did not care for introductions 
 or flags of truce or anything. As soon as Captain 
 Dugald Dalgetty had delivered his message, he clapped 
 him into a deep dungeon, where he found himself in 
 company with one of the McEaghs indeed, with the 
 very man whose three sons were even then dangling 
 on the gallows of Inverary. 
 
 The Chief of the Children of the Mist asked Dalgetty 
 if he knew Sir Duncan Campbell, and revealed to him 
 the secret how when his tribe had taken the castle of 
 Sir Duncan, and slain all his children, one girl had 
 escaped, who was now being brought up in the house of 
 the McAulays under the name of Annot Lyle. 
 
 While he was telling him this story, the Marquis of 
 Argyle had entered the dungeon by a secret door, and 
 had been listening also. He had not, however, heard 
 all, but he promised that if what McEagh said about 
 Annot Lyle were true, he should be set at liberty. 
 
 Then he tried in vain to seduce Captain Dalgetty,
 
 390 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 asking him what were the numbers of the Montrose's 
 Cavaliers, and how many Irish there were in the ranks. 
 Dalgetty soon saw that it was the Marquis himself 
 with whom he had to do, and springing suddenly upon 
 him, he choked him nearly to death. Then he made 
 him write a permission to pass and give him the pass- 
 word. If he hadn't, he would have killed him. He 
 went up into the Marquis's room, took a purse of gold 
 and what arms he could find, then went out by the way 
 of the chapel, attended by McEagh. They found the 
 chaplain, who as soon as he heard that Captain Dal- 
 getty had served with the saviour of Protestantism, the 
 Lion of the North, went himself to bring Captain Dal- 
 getty's horse, and even attended them to the castle 
 gate. 
 
 They passed the guard in safety, and Dalgetty rode 
 away, leaving the Marquis tied fast in McEagh's plaid 
 and locked up in his own dungeon. 
 
 They had not got into the mountains, however, 
 when they heard the tolling of the castle bell, and after- 
 wards the deep baying of a bloodhound on their trail. 
 
 But still dragging his ponderous boots and encum- 
 bered with his armour, Captain Dalgetty managed to 
 reach the top of the pass. Here McEagh whistled. 
 He was answered equally softly, and when they came 
 out into the moonlight, it was in the midst of a party
 
 THE TALE OF CAPTAIN DALGETTY 391 
 
 of ten or twelve stalwart Highlanders. Dalgetty's 
 horse Gustavus had already been left behind in the 
 care of a boy who crept out of a heather bush, while 
 his master had gone on with his late fellow-prisoner, 
 Ranald McEagh. 
 
 The men and women, on hearing how Dalgetty had 
 saved their chief, pressed about him clamorous to kiss 
 even the hem of his garment. 
 
 "They are plichting their faith to you," said Ranald 
 McEagh. But Dalgetty, though flattered, was eager 
 rather to get the matter settled as to how best to defend 
 the position. 
 
 He was astonished to hear that the best weapons of 
 the Children of the Mist were bows and arrows. 
 
 "Ha ! ha ! ha ! " cried Dalgetty ; "have we Robin Hood 
 and Little John back again ? Bows and arrows ! Why, 
 the sight has not been seen in civilised warfare for a 
 hundred years why not weaver's beams, as in the 
 days of Goliath?" 
 
 The bay of the bloodhound was now approaching 
 nearer, and McEagh bade Dalgetty be quiet. They 
 could even hear the voices of the people who accom- 
 panied the brute and encouraged it to follow the track. 
 
 All was now dead silence. Even Dalgetty said 
 nothing, for he understood the nature of an ambush 
 as well as any other part of military service.
 
 392 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 The moon gleamed on the broken pathway, and on 
 the projecting cliffs about which it wound. The dark- 
 ness beneath was all copse wood, the rounded tops of 
 the bushes looking like a dimly seen ocean. From the 
 bosom of this darkness, and close to the precipice, the 
 hound could be heard at intervals baying fearfully. 
 Then voices of men sounded immediately below. 
 
 At length a shadowy figure was seen ascending, and 
 Dalgetty at once remarked the long gun he carried 
 behind his back. 
 
 "Thousand devils!" he muttered; "they will make 
 an end of us if they have brought musketry to en- 
 counter our archers." 
 
 The narrow path had been discovered. The man, 
 who by the feathers in his bonnet was some one in high 
 command, had reached a rock about halfway up, 
 when an arrow whistled from the bow of one of the 
 Children of the Mist, and his dead body fell crashing 
 into the depths below. But Dalgetty had leaned too 
 far forward. 
 
 "The Sassenach," cried a voice from below; "the 
 Sassenach sidier ! I see the glitter of his breastplate !" 
 Three muskets were discharged at him. And while one 
 bullet rattled against the corselet of proof, another 
 ^penetrated the armour that covered his left thigh 
 and stretched him on the ground.
 
 BOWS AND ARROWS ! HA ! HA ! HA ! ' CRIED DALGETTY '
 
 THE TALE OF CAPTAIN DALGETTY 393 
 
 Ranald McEagh bore him back from the edge of 
 the precipice, still muttering: "I always told the im- 
 mortal Gustavus, Wallenstein, Tilly, and other men of 
 the sword that, to my poor mind, taslets ought to be 
 made musket-proof. And do not forget, McEagh, if I 
 die, to tell Montrose that I did my duty to the last like 
 a true follower of the Lion of the North." 
 
 He began to wander a little in his mind as the blood 
 flowed fast. But in spite of this his tongue never kept 
 still a moment. 
 
 "Advance your stands of pikes!" he said. "Hold 
 fast there, dragoons on the left flank ! If it comes to a 
 retreat, leave some matches burning on the branches 
 of the trees it looks as if they were lines with mus- 
 keteers. But I forgot, ye have no matchlocks nor 
 habergeons only bows and arrows, which is a laugh- 
 able thing bows and arrows ha ! ha ! ha !" 
 
 And the man of the continental wars fainted even as 
 he laughed. 
 
 $ $ $ $ $ $ # 
 
 Well, Dalgetty recovered of his wound by the care 
 of the women of the McEagh clan, and was able to be 
 with Montrose at Inverlochy, when the rest of the 
 Highlands took their vengeance on the hated Campbell 
 clan. Here he had his horse Gustavus killed beneath 
 him. Here at the end of the day he was made a knight
 
 394 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 by Montrose, who had the King's commission to do 
 such honour to those who fought well. But immediately 
 afterwards he found himself in the midst of a deadly 
 quarrel with Allan McAulay because he wanted to slay 
 his old enemy McEagh. 
 
 However, instead of killing Dalgetty, Mad Allan, who 
 had got dreaming of all sorts of things, wounded Lord 
 Monteith, when he was just on the point of being mar- 
 ried to Annot Lyle, who had been proved to be the only 
 daughter of Sir Duncan Campbell of Ardenvohr, car- 
 ried off by the Children of the Mist. 
 
 Montrose called to them to shut the gates, swearing 
 that the criminal should die if he were his own brother. 
 But striking down a sentinel, Allan escaped, running 
 like a mountain deer. He was pursued by all who had 
 heard the alarm, but he threw himself into the river, 
 and swimming across was soon lost in the woods. 
 
 Then, in a wonderfully short time after the deed was 
 committed, he burst into a room in the castle of Inverary 
 and threw the bloody dirk on the table. 
 
 "Is it the blood of James Grahame?" demanded the 
 Marquis, eagerly. For he had a hope that it might 
 have been Montrose who had been slain. 
 
 However, Monteith, though severely wounded, was 
 not killed. He lived to marry Annot, now the heiress 
 of the knight of Ardenvohr.
 
 THE TALE OF CAPTAIN DALGETTY 395 
 
 As for Sir Dugald Dalgetty, he followed Montrose 
 to the last. He was captured at Philiphaugh, and came 
 near being executed with the other officers. He was, 
 however, offered service with the Covenanters. This, 
 to the great surprise of every one, he declined, because 
 the time of his service with the King was not yet quite 
 expired. 
 
 However, as it had only a fortnight to run, he was 
 reprieved over that period, and immediately afterwards 
 took the position of Major in Kirk's Own Regiment of 
 Horse, and died in possession of his paternal estate 
 of Drumthwacket, having married the widow of the 
 Aberdeen Covenanter. 
 
 "There ! " cried Sir Toady, holding out his hand like 
 an offertory plate in church; "nobody can say I told 
 that funnily, and it wasn't long, either ! I even kept 
 out ever so much of the fun there was in it, so as to be 
 done the sooner. Please, can I have my money now, 
 so that I can pay Hugh John the ten shillings he is 
 always dunning me for?" 
 
 He could. He did. And immediately there was a 
 vacancy in the little encampment sheltered by the rowan 
 tree which sprang from the crumbling fragments of 
 the Feudal Tower.
 
 396 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 Toady Lion had departed. He was not one who 
 waited for criticism after the cash had been paid 
 down on the nail. He was of opinion that the true test 
 of genius in tale-telling are a man's publishers' accounts. 
 
 He was next heard of in consultation with the joiner- 
 cabinet-maker of the village, treating doubtless for new 
 "lined" drawers for his eggs. 
 
 "I'm glad we did not live in those times!" said 
 Sweetheart. 
 
 "Bow and arrow would do little against a covey 
 you could not give them a proper right and left at all," 
 said Keeper Chesnay. 
 
 "/ must go and make sure of my half-sovereign, if I 
 want to see it at all," said Hugh John. 
 
 As for Maid Margaret, she began to look anxious. 
 It was her turn next, and I judged that she would pass 
 a troubled night. So I went over to where she sat, 
 her daisy chains scattered about her, and her fingers 
 knitting and twisting nervously. 
 
 "Margaret," I said, "never mind. You just do 
 your best, and you shall have something!" 
 
 I heard a little sob. 
 
 "Oh, I don't know what I shall say I don't know 
 I get it all in my head, and then I forget!" she 
 mourned. 
 
 "Do not mind," I said; "say whatever comes into
 
 MAID MARGARET'S ANXIETY 397 
 
 your head, and don't care for anybody. They will be 
 glad to hear such a little girl tell a story, instead of only 
 having one told to her." 
 
 This proved some slight consolation, but still it was 
 with sadness that she gathered up her flowers and took 
 her way up to the house. 
 
 "I know I shall never deserve even a penny!" she 
 said, "but I shall try!" 
 
 And that is no bad frame of mind in which to prepare 
 for an ordeal.
 
 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 TOLD TO 
 
 MAID MARGARET IN A DREAM
 
 THE LAST TALE IN THE BOOK CALLED 
 "RED CAP ADVENTURES" 
 
 BEING 
 
 THE TALE THAT RED CAP TOLD TO MAID MAR- 
 GARET IN A DREAM 
 
 ON the night before the final proof, when Margaret 
 was to pass her trials, the prevailing feelings in the 
 household were certainly pity and hope. More than 
 any one, Sir Toady had awakened curiosity. Hugh 
 John had carried a certain chivalrous dash into his 
 narrative by identifying himself with his hero, Quentin. 
 Sweetheart won all our sympathies by her gallant strug- 
 gle with the most difficult story of all to retell briefly. 
 
 But Maid Margaret, being greatly the youngest, and 
 perhaps, like most youngests, just a little spoiled by 
 all, carried with her something more tender. A cer- 
 tain wistfulness stirred our hearts, and I am quite sure 
 that if she had not been granted a prize, no power of 
 mine could have prevented those present from "put- 
 ting up a bit" for her. 
 
 As it was, she arrived late, and I think it must have 
 
 2D 4OI
 
 402 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 taken all her courage to face the assembly, in the midst 
 of which she had been accustomed to sit so much at 
 ease playing with her daisy chains. 
 
 She was a little pale, and her lips were slightly trem- 
 bling. 
 
 But she put her hands behind her and began in a 
 low voice, with her eyes cast on the ground. 
 
 I can't tell you about a book, because I'm too little 
 to remember properly how things come or at least 
 to say them all over again. Except, maybe, Jack-in- 
 the-Beanstalk or something like that. 
 
 So I did not know what to do. Once or twice I 
 thought I would pray to God to help me. But then, as it 
 was just the money I wanted, I did not think it was 
 proper to trouble God about a little thing like that. So 
 I cried yes, I did I cried a lot. It was last night 
 that I cried the most. I wanted so to have the money 
 like the others to earn it, I mean. 
 
 [For her quick eye had seen Butcher Donnan's 
 kind right hand stealing in the direction of his pocket.] 
 
 Perhaps I did pray a little, after all, but I tried hard 
 not to. For I knew it was wrong. But I heard a man 
 preaching in church say that little children had angels 
 that were always regarding them. So I thought I
 
 THE TALE TOLD IN A DREAM 403 
 
 would ask the angel in the morning, when maybe 
 he would be in a good humour, because of the night 
 being past and the light come again. Everybody is 
 brighter then, and you get things easier out of them. 
 Have you noticed ? At any rate, I stopped crying and 
 fell asleep. 
 
 Well, you never could think what I saw when I 
 woke up a pretty, old-fashioned house, but not really 
 old, with the river in front, just like this, only much 
 nearer. I knew in a moment that it was Abbotsford, 
 where Sir Walter lived. And so I thought I would go 
 and see him there. I knew somehow that he was not 
 dead, as they say in books it seemed like that, you 
 know, in my dream just as if he were living there 
 still, and no tourists or anything paying to go in 
 only the sound of the Tweed running over its pebbles 
 on a September afternoon, the sound which he loved 
 most dearly of any on the earth. 
 
 And I wasn't afraid or anything. Oh, not a bit ! 
 For I knew he would help me and be kind to a little 
 girl. It was a nice warm day, afternoon, from the 
 warm, hot smell of meadows, and I must have been 
 paddling in the water, for I had my shoes in my 
 hand. 
 
 I went up the steps. They were not a bit high, 
 but there was a big cool hall. I knocked on the open
 
 40 4 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 door. It was all nice and quiet inside. At first nobody 
 seemed to hear me, but presently a big deer-hound, like 
 Hugh John's Ross, came bouncing out and jumped 
 up on me. 
 
 So I said, "Get down, Maida!" Quite naturally I 
 said it. You see I had known Maida ever such a long 
 time. 
 
 And then HE came out to see what was the matter 
 the kindest man. When he took off his big grey hat 
 and stood with it in his hand, my heart gave a great 
 jump, for I saw it was Sir Walter. You could tell by 
 his brow. He was smiling, you know; not as if he 
 wanted to laugh, but just because his heart was warm 
 and kind and sunny like the September afternoon. I 
 said it was September, didn't I? And the reapers 
 were in the fields. 
 
 So I told him that I was a little girl who could not 
 tell over again the stories he had written, though I 
 had tried very hard. 
 
 "Oh," he said, "you belong to that family which 
 has been pestering my poor Red Cap in the big chest 
 upstairs to tell all the old tales over and making him 
 so cross he will hardly tell me even a tale though I 
 have asked him several times." 
 
 "Oh, please," said I, "if I could only see Master 
 Red Cap, I think he might tell me something some-
 
 THE TALE TOLD IN A DREAM 405 
 
 
 thing for a little girl to remember, something not in 
 
 the printed books, do you think he would ? " 
 
 "Well," said Sir Walter, "often and often he won't 
 for me. But perhaps, as you are a little girl and this 
 is the first time, he might. At any rate, we can only 
 go and see." 
 
 So he took me by the hand and led me through the 
 hall and past the armour, and as we went all the 
 figures in the iron dresses turned their heads to look 
 after me, as much as to say, "Wherever is that little 
 girl going?" 
 
 So we came to the library. And I knew it all by 
 heart, with the gallery round, and Red Cap's big chest 
 in the corner and all just as in the picture. 
 
 "Better stop there," said Sir Walter (always in my 
 dream), putting a sword with a cross on the hilt into 
 my hands, "and if Master Red Cap is cross or anything 
 make a circle with the point on the carpet and then 
 I can jump inside!" 
 
 "But is he often naughty, this Red Cap?" I asked. 
 
 "No," said Sir Walter, smiling, "not generally. But 
 he is getting old and has done a lot of work in his 
 day. So he is sometimes not in the best of humours 
 when he awakes especially on hot afternoons." 
 
 So he went forward to the big chest, and tapped 
 gently on the lid. Then I heard what was like a little
 
 4 o6 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 cross whine inside something between an angry 
 pussy and a naughty baby. 
 
 Sir Walter shook his head of course in the 
 dream. 
 
 "He does not want to be disturbed, I can hear that," 
 he said ; "but I will tell him that it is a little girl who has 
 come a long way to see him, and that she will cry if she 
 doesn't. That will make him come out if anything 
 will!" 
 
 So he whispered a little through the keyhole, and 
 up jumped the lid of the chest, and out stepped 
 the funniest little man all dressed in but there, I 
 promised not to describe him only he had a red 
 cap on his head, and under it the queerest face, no part 
 of it keeping still a moment, but all dancing and 
 pimpling and bubbling well, just like a pot before 
 it boils. 
 
 The door of the library gave a loud bang loud 
 like thunder. Sir Walter went away to shut it properly, 
 but I ran after him and caught him by the hand. 
 
 "Ha ! ha ! ha !" cried Brownie Red Cap in the fun- 
 niest crackling voice (he was sitting on the Big Box, 
 cross-legged, like a Turk), "the little girl has seen me 
 and she is frightened. Ho! ho! Ha! ha!" 
 
 "Well, and what of that" said Sir Walter; "so 
 was I, for that matter, the first time in Castle Street
 
 THE TALE TOLD IN A DREAM 407 
 
 you remember when you wrote the last two volumes 
 of Waverley in one night, and the people stood watch- 
 ing your hand through the window, tossing down sheet 
 after sheet ! They thought it was the Great Unknown, 
 as they called him, but he had his law business to attend 
 to and did not believe much in the story-telling at any 
 rate!" 
 
 The recollection made Red Cap laugh. So, after a 
 while, he looked at me again more kindly and said, 
 "Well, what does this little girl want? Now that she 
 has come, we must see what can be done for her. 
 The Queen of the Fairies and I were just having a 
 rare good gossip over our afternoon tea." 
 
 "What!" I said, for I was much surprised, "have 
 you afternoon tea in Fairyland?" 
 
 He bent his brows at me, and said, "Why, where 
 have you been brought up, not to know that? Yes, 
 certainly. Isn't China called the Flowery Land ? So, 
 of course, there are more fairies there than anywhere 
 else in the world. And of course, too, the Queen has 
 to have the best Extra Special Celestial Golden 
 Tips, flavoured with gooseberry seeds, and served in 
 buttercups! In fact, tea is her favourite flower!" 
 
 "So it is mine," I said; "but was it a set-down tea 
 like in the nursery, or a serve-and-stand-round tea like 
 what they have in the drawing-room ? "
 
 4 o8 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 "Oh, a set-down tea the only proper kind of 
 tea !" he said. "That was what made it all the harder 
 to come away!" 
 
 "Well," said I, "if you come to our house when 
 everybody is out, I know where everything is every- 
 thing that is mine, I mean. Sunday afternoon is a 
 good time the boys are always in the woods, and the 
 rest say they are reading, but really they are asleep 
 you know! " f 
 
 "Thank you," said Red Cap, bowing very politely 
 over the top of the big box, "but as I am bound always 
 to be at My Master's call (here he nodded at Sir Walter, 
 who was still smiling), I cannot come to any one else's 
 house. But all the same, if you want a story to tell, so 
 that you can get two pieces of the nasty heavy golden 
 dross yes, he called it that which men like so 
 much and can't be happy without why, just you tell 
 them that you've been here. And that My Master 
 brought me up specially from the Court of the Queen 
 of Fairyland where Old Tom and she and I were 
 having tea together just to see you. At least, Tom 
 had some mead for himself instead. For he's old- 
 fashioned, you see, but not at all a bad sort of a fellow, 
 though he will go on believing in his old prophecies " 
 
 ["Thomas the Rhymer!" said all the children, in an 
 awe-stricken whisper; "just fancy seeing "
 
 THE TALE TOLD IN A DREAM 409 
 
 "Hush," said I, "let her finish."] 
 
 And so he told me just to stop there a minute. "I 
 will just step down below and see if the old fellow has 
 got any prophecy about you, my little girl. For really, 
 now that I have got over being disturbed, it is nice and 
 kind of you to come and see a cross-grained old thing 
 like me ! " 
 
 "You are not cross-grained," I said; "and you don't 
 look half your age, but only nice and kind ! " 
 
 He pulled the peak of his red cap three times in 
 acknowledgment, and I could see he was pleased. I 
 always know when men are pleased. So he shut down 
 the lid, and Sir Walter put his finger to his lip as a 
 signal that we must not speak till he came back. 
 
 But instead, we stood holding each other's hands. 
 
 It seemed a great while before there was a rumbling 
 in the chest again, and little Brownie Red Cap thrust 
 his head out and nodded the tassel of his bonnet thrice 
 three times which by the multiplication table made 
 nine. I know, because I am at four times myself now. 
 I was promoted last week. 
 
 "I can only work for My Master," he said; "I can 
 tell stories for nobody else. It is not allowed. But 
 I've been to True Thomas, who never told a story in 
 his life. He doesn't know how. And I told him to 
 prophesy something that would certainly come true 
 something about you.
 
 410 RED CAP ADVENTURES 
 
 "And the old fellow he doesn't look old, you 
 know not even like me, only he has old-fashioned 
 ways he bade me tell you that, by his halidom, and 
 as sure as you would suck the honey out of a honey- 
 suckle blossom the next time you saw one in the hedge, 
 your father would pay you two round pieces of golden 
 dross, the same as to your brothers and sister! And 
 all for telling about Red Cap and Red Cap's Master 
 for loving them and thinking that they looked nice 
 when really they were very grumpy inside at being 
 disturbed in the hot middle of the afternoon. So 
 good-bye, little lady!" 
 
 And then (concluded Maid Margaret), with that 
 the lid shut with a bang. I saw no more of Red Cap. 
 But Sir Walter brought me to the door, and just as he 
 was stooping to kiss me Ellie put her hand on my 
 shoulder and said that it was time to get up and dress 
 or I should be late for lessons. 
 
 "But Thomas the Rhymer was a true prophet, wasn't 
 he, father?" And this time, at least, he was. I made 
 him so on the spot. Indeed, had I not done so, I should 
 instantly have been sent to Coventry my society 
 abjured by all honest men, such as Butcher Donnan 
 and Keeper Chesnay, considered unworthy even by
 
 THE TALE TOLD IN A DREAM 411 
 
 licensed depredators like Elphie, looked down upon 
 by my own family, and in especial, held in danger- 
 ously bad odour at the Court of Fairyland. 
 
 With the two bits of "golden dross" shining in her 
 small palm, Maid Margaret said triumphantly, "Now, 
 all you people who won't believe, tell me whether there 
 are no real fairies nowadays on the earth !" 
 
 "And who ever doubted it?" I cried, catching up 
 the friend of Red Cap in my arms a happy fairy, 
 for had she not spoken with the Master of us all ? 
 
 THE END
 
 Stories from some of Scott's Novels, told 
 
 BY S. R. CROCKETT 
 
 Author of " The Raiders? etc. 
 
 Red Cap Tales 
 
 Stolen from the Treasure Chest 
 of the Wizard of the North 
 
 With sixteen illustrations in color by Simon Harmon Vedder 
 
 Cloth, i2tno, $1.30 net; by mail, $1.67 
 
 " In this simple recounting of adventures there lurks a really high art, and 
 not a little humor. Mr. Crockett is aiming to bring home to his critical 
 small audience the liveliness, the excitement, the breathless adventuresome- 
 ness, of these great novels. He is luring his hearers on to read for them- 
 selves. He tells them enough about the people and the events to make 
 them hurry to the books to fill out details." Churchman. 
 
 "Not the least attraction of the book is the clear print, on good paper, 
 and the really superb colored pictures, delicately tinted and full of artistic 
 beauty. So far this is the best book we have seen in anticipation of Christmas 
 gifts, and it is not exorbitant in price." New York Christian Advdcate. 
 
 " Mr. Crockett has adapted Scott for the benefit of his own and other 
 people's children, making a little story of each of the main incidents in 
 sequence, so that the outline and a good deal more of each romance is pre- 
 sented. Characteristic interludes acquaint one with the story-teller's first 
 audience, among them the dear little maid of ' Sweetheart Travellers.' The 
 naturalness of their comment and criticism will delight the reader as surely 
 as will Mr. Crockett's clever rehearsal accomplish its purpose ' to lure chil- 
 dren to the printed book ' of his great original and along with the young- 
 sters many ' oldsters ' (Mr. Crockett's word) as well. " The Outlook. 
 
 THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 
 
 64-66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YOBK
 
 EVERY BOY'S AND GIRL'S SERIES 
 
 A series of books which have been proved to have 
 each its points of special appeal to young readers. 
 
 Attractively bound in cloth, each, 75 cents net 
 
 The Adventures of Dorothy 
 
 By JOCELYN LEWIS Illustrated by Seymour M. Stone 
 
 Alice's Adventures in Wonderland 
 
 By LEWIS CARROLL With forty-two illustrations by John Tenniel 
 
 Aunt Jimmy's Will 
 
 By MABEL OSGOOD WRIGHT Illustrated by Florence Scovel Shinn 
 
 The Bears of Blue River 
 
 By CHARLES MAJOR With illustrations by A. B. Frost and others 
 
 The Bennett Twins 
 
 By MARGUERITE HURD 
 
 Bible Stories retold for Young People (In one volume) 
 
 The New Testament Story 
 By W. F. ADENEY, M.A. With illustrations and maps 
 
 The Old Testament Story 
 By W. H. BENNETT, MA. With illustrations and maps 
 
 Boy Life on the Prairie 
 
 By HAMLIN GARLAND Illustrated by E. W. Deming 
 
 Children of the Tenements 
 
 By JACOB A. Rns With illustrations by C. M. Relyea and others 
 
 The Children who ran Away 
 
 By EVELYN SHARP With illustrations by Paul Meylan 
 
 Dogtown 
 
 By MABEL OSGOOD WRIGHT Profusely illustrated from photographs by 
 
 the author 
 Eight Secrets 
 
 By ERNEST INGERSOLL Illustrated 
 
 The General Manager's Story 
 
 By HERBERT ELLIOTT HAMBLEN Illustrated 
 
 A Little Captive Lad 
 
 By BEULAH MARIE Dix With illustrations by Will Grefe 
 
 The Merry Anne 
 
 By SAMUEL MERWIN With illustrations and decorations by Thomas 
 
 Fogarthy
 
 EVERY BOY'S AND GIRL'S SERIES Continued 
 
 Merrylips 
 
 By BEULAH MARIE Dix 
 
 Pickett's Gap 
 
 By HOMER GREENE 
 
 Tales of the Fish Patrol 
 By JACK LONDON 
 
 Through the Looking Glass 
 By LEWIS CARROLL 
 
 Tom Benton's Luck 
 
 By HERBERT ELLIOTT HAMBLEN 
 
 Tom Brown's School Days 
 
 By An Old Boy THOMAS HUGHES 
 
 Trapper "Jim" 
 
 By EDWYN SANDYS 
 
 The Wonder Children 
 By CHARLES J. BELLAMY 
 
 The Youngest Girl in the School 
 By EVELYN SHARP 
 
 The Railway Children 
 By E. NESBIT 
 
 The Phosnix and the Carpet 
 By E. NESBIT 
 
 "Carrots": Just a Little Boy 
 
 By MRS. MOLESWORTH 
 
 Us: An Old-Fashioned Story 
 By MRS. MOLESWORTH 
 
 Cuckoo Clock 
 
 By MRS. MOLESWORTH 
 
 The Dwarf's Spectacles and 
 Other Fairy Tales 
 By MAX NORDAU 
 
 The Story of a Red Deer 
 
 By J. W. FORTESCUE 
 
 The Little Lame Prince 
 
 By DINAH MULOCK CRAIK, author of "John Halifax, Gentleman" 
 
 With illustrations by Frank T. Merrill 
 
 With illustrations 
 
 With illustrations 
 
 With fifty illustrations by John Tenniel 
 
 With illustrations 
 
 With illustrations by Arthur Hughes 
 and Sidney Hall 
 
 With many illustrations by the author 
 
 Illustrated 
 
 With illustrations by C. E. Brock 
 With illustrations by Charles E. Brock 
 Illustrated by H. R. Millar 
 Illustrated by Walter Crane 
 Illustrated 
 Illustrated 
 
 Illustrated by H. A. Hart, F. P. Safford, and 
 R. McGowan
 
 NOVELS BY S. R. CROCKETT 
 
 AUTHOR OF "RED CAP TALES," ETC. 
 THE RAIDERS 
 
 "... The things that befell us in those strange years when the hill out- 
 laws colleagued with the wild free-traders of the Holland traffic, and fell upon 
 us to the destruction of the life of man, the carrying away of much bestial, 
 besides the putting of many of His Majesty's lieges in fear. . . . 
 
 " It was with May Mischief that all the terrible blast of storm began 
 (as indeed most storms among men ever do begin with a bonny lass, like that 
 concerning Helen of Troy, which lasted ten years and of which men speak 
 to this day). The tale began with May Mischief, as you shall hear. I keep 
 the old name still, though the years have gone by, and though now in any talks 
 of the old days, and of all our ancient ploys, there are the bairns to be con- 
 sidered. But it is necessary that ere the memory quite die out, some of us 
 who saw these things should write them down." 
 
 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 " One becomes enwrapped in the spirit of the age by the strength of the 
 author's delineations, and so vivid are his word pictures that imagination 
 supplies the details, and the whole scene arises in the reader's mind, and his 
 interest never flags." Detroit Free Press. 
 
 " It has the same qualities as his other stories strength, humor, pathos, 
 a style of universal clearness, and is, withal, a good story." Indianapolis 
 Journal. 
 
 THE STICKIT MINISTER AND SOME COMMON MEN 
 
 "Mr. Crockett has given us a book that is full of strength and charms. 
 Humor and pathos mingle with delightful effect. ... It is hard to imagine 
 that any lover of literature could be altogether wanting in appreciation of 
 their quaint homeliness and pleasant realism. To come across a volume like 
 this is indeed refreshing. No wailing pessimism mars our enjoyment with its 
 dreary disbelief in humanity; every page exhibits a robust faith in the higher 
 possibilities of our nature, and the result is distinctly successful. Amongst 
 the gems of the collection we may indicate 'The Heather Lintie,' a simple 
 sketch, instinct with quiet, penetrating pathos; whilst as a specimen of acute 
 and kindly humor, ' A Knight-Errant of the Streets,' with its sequel, ' The 
 Progress of Cleg Kelly,' would be hard to surpass. . . . The author has con- 
 structed stories full of grace and charm. Those to whom humanity in its 
 most primitive and least complex aspect is interesting will find real pleasure 
 in studying Mr. Crockett's strong and sympathetic presentment of Scottish 
 peasant life." The Speaker. 
 
 Each, cloth, I2mo, $1.50. Published by 
 THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 
 
 64-66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YOBK
 
 University of California 
 
 SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 405 Hilgard Avenue, Los Angeles, CA 90024-1388 
 
 Return this material to the library 
 
 from which it was borrowed.
 
 A 000052000 7