CHAPTER VI
The Adventure in Cheshire
In late September Calote and the peddler, having got as far north asthe ancient city of Chester, fell in with a company of bold outlawsthat dwelt in a wood some way without the city walls. Six of these menwere villeins that had run from their land; three more had beensoldiers beyond the sea and were now loth to lend their great limbs toany peaceful labours; the tenth man was a beggar by trade, yet forsome cause best known to himself he would not beg in Chester; andthere was yet another, a young lad who had slain his lord's bailiff.He had taken sanctuary and after abjured the realm, so that he wasunder oath to get him out of England by the nearest way; yet helingered. Two women were also with this company: the one waslight-o'-love to the youngest soldier of the three; the other wassister to the lad that had murdered the bailiff,--they two wereorphaned.
After the peddler had come out of Devon, leaving his hood and pack onthe cliff, he bought him a new pack in Bristol; but by now well-nighall his gewgaws were sold, and he purposed to buy other at the OctoberFair in Chester. Meanwhile, he waited without the town, saving thecost of bed and board, and keeping his eyes and ears open to serveCalote.
These outlaws were no cowards, except it might be the young murderer,who screeched in his sleep of nights and woke up staring, in a coldsweat. They were a merry band; their food was berries and herbs andthe small game that ran in the woods. Now and again they ventured onthe high road and plundered solitary market-women or a farmer's boy.In winter and spring they dared even set upon a merchant or franklin;but at fair-time the merchants, coming to display their wares atChester, travelled in so great companies for safety, that 't was butfoolhardiness to attack them. So it fell that about the time Caloteand the peddler came among them these robbers, were in a mood ofdiscontent more than ordinary, having not so much as a groat wherewithto bless themselves. An Calote's tales had not charmed them when firstthey caught the couple a-wandering in the wood, no doubt it had gonehard with the peddler. But when they heard how he sang to his lute,and he said he had not peddled for many a day and 't was a poor trade,they looked no further than his pack; the bits of ribbon that wereleft in it the soldier gave to his wench.
"One eats all that one sells," quoth the peddler; but when they sawhow he did eat that night, they roared and said 't was plain he hadsold little of late.
They were wondrous kind to Calote; they crowned her with a garland ofgreen, and gave her of their best. Her tales of the Brotherhood, theGreat Society, they heard with passion and impatience. They were forsetting out to London without pause. The Vision went to their headslike strong drink, so that they cursed and beat upon the earth, andanon fell on each other's necks with kisses, in a kind of frenzy.
"Ye 'll be no more outlaws," quoth Calote, "but makers of laws. Ye 'llbe your own bailiffs on your own lands."
The poor lad that had killed the bailiff cast himself on his face, atthis, and wept, and his little sister also. And all those others didwhat they might to comfort him, with:--
"Ho, man! leave off tears; 't was bravely done!" and "Never grieve fora black heart!" and "A pox o' bailiffs!"
The horn they handled greedily, counting the linked jewels in thechain and the pearls that were set about the image of the white hart.Calote kept it in a little bag that she had made of a bit of blanketthe peddler gave her. This she wore by a string about her middle, anddrew forth the horn willingly when they called for it. She was notaware how they coveted it, nor wherefore; but the peddler knew. Heheard them when they sat about the fire of nights, after the womenwere gone to sleep. He listened the while they wrangled of the pearls.One said there were thirty, another swore by Saint Christopher therewere but five and twenty.
"S-seven and twenty," quoth the peddler; "I-I-I counted."
They turned and looked on him. There were three awake, the beggar, avillein, and the youngest soldier. They called the villein SymmeTipuppe, and the soldier Nicholas Bendebowe; the beggar was onlyHaukyn.
Quoth Haukyn to the peddler: "Art thou kin to the maid?"
"N-nay," said the peddler, "we met by the r-road."
"Tell me," said Symme, leaning forward. "Thou 'rt a kind of merchant,is the horn silver, or some baser metal?"
"T-t-true silver," answered the peddler, and Nicholas Bendebowe,looking on Symme, set his thumb to his nose and wagged his fingers,with "Said I not so? I saw jewels in France, yea, and handled them."
"'T would bring a pretty penny if 't were sold?" Symme questioned.
"N-no doubt," the peddler made reply.
For a little while they sat silent, and the soldier laid a fresh boughon the blaze, for that the night was crisp and all these fellows wereragged and brier-torn.
Then said Haukyn the beggar, gloomily: "After to-morrow is thebeginning of the Fair."
"Small joy to such as we be," snapped Nicholas Bendebowe.
"M-methought 't was the charite of Chester Fair th-that all men mightgather there whether outlaw or-or-or runaway villein, and no oneshould l-l-lay hands on them while the Fair endured," the peddlerqueried.
"Yea, 't is so," assented Symme. "But what boots it me that I may gowithin Chester wall, if I must go empty-handed? The Rows are linedwith spies that hale a man to the court of pie powder if he but strokewith his finger the furred edge of a hood that 's to sell. 'T wereagainst reason to think a man will keep his hands off in midst ofplenty."
"B-but Haukyn 's a b-beggar only, he may ply his trade," said thepeddler.
"Haukyn does not ply his trade in Chester," the beggar answered forhimself. "If he cannot go in to buy like 's betters, he 's safestwithout."
"Twenty-seven pearls," mused Nicholas; and Symme and Haukyn sighed.
The peddler looked across the blaze of the fire to where Calote lay, alittle way off at the foot of a tree, asleep. On the ground beside herwas the bag with the horn in it, and the string went round her slimbody.
After a bit the soldier snored; the beggar twitched awake and in atrice was off again, this time sound; the villein turned his back tothe fire and drew up his legs, and presently the peddler heard himgrinding his teeth, and knew that he too was asleep.
Throughout the next day the peddler was never far from Calote; thricethe villein had the horn out of her bag and fondled it, and the beggarcame and looked over his shoulder. The soldier's wench hung the chainabout her own neck one while, and saith she to her love:--
"Deck me in this wise!"
"By Our Lady o' Walsingham, that will I," he swore, "when Calote andus common folk have put down the noblesse, and all men share alike."
Again that night those three talked of the Fair after others slept,and the peddler sat beside them listening. On a sudden Symme Tipuppeturned to him and said:--
"If the horn were to sell, what would it fetch?"
"A g-goodly sum," the peddler answered cautiously.
"Yea, but what 's that, a pound?"
"A pound, sayst thou?" the soldier scoffed. "If 't bring not fivetimes a pound, rend out my guts."
"H-haply 't might," said the peddler.
"With the chain?" queried Haukyn.
"With the chain?" Symme echoed, his eyes on the peddler.
"N-nay, but alone."
"Twenty for the chain, eh, peddler?" said Nicholas.
"N-nearer ten."
Then there was a very long stillness, till at last Symme said:--
"Fifteen pound!"
"If the King loveth us," grumbled the beggar, "he 'll never grudgefifteen pound. Hath not the maid said the King 's our friend?"
"Ho, fellows! 'T is our horn as well as the King's," Nicholasblustered in a whisper. "Doth not the maid say we 'll share with him?"
"'T is the maid's," said Symme, glancing aside uneasily at thepeddler. "The King gave it to the maid."
"Not so, 't is the King's!" persisted Nicholas. "'T is hers for atoken only. Heh, peddler?"
"'T-'t is t-true, 't is the K-King's," the peddler agreed.
"The King would give her another token an she lost this one," thebeggar whined in his peevish way. "And though he 's King, he 's Earlo' Chester likewise; he 'd be kind to his own men, if they sold thehorn for hunger."
The soldier loosened his knife in his girdle with one hand, the otherhe laid on the peddler's shoulder.
"Wilt thou be one with us in this adventure, brother?" he asked.
Symme also drew his knife, and Haukyn laid his fingers up about theback of the peddler's throat.
"G-gladly, brothers," said the peddler.
"Fifteen pound!" murmured Symme. "Fifteen pound!"
Then the young murderer began to moan and cry in his sleep, and, for alittle, all were astir to soothe him; but when the place was quietSymme said:--
"Who 'll sell it? Haukyn can go to the Fair."
"'T is no safe token for a beggar to bear," quoth Haukyn; "hold meexcused. Men know me in Chester."
"Peddler can go to the Fair," said Nicholas; "he 's no outlawed man."
"True!" agreed Symme. "And peddler knows to chaffer. Fifteen pound,peddler."
"Or more," said Haukyn.
"Who will take the horn from the maid?" asked Nicholas.
"I," Haukyn answered him. "I found an old cow's horn yester morn;methought 't might prove a treasure. I 'll slip out one and slip in t'other."
They chuckled.
"When she knoweth her loss, what then?" asked Symme.
"I 'll woo her prettily," said Nicholas, "till she forget."
"We 'll all go to Fair with the peddler," Haukyn declared.
But now the peddler answered: "Nay, n-not so! If I go, I go alone.W-were I seen in your c-company, I 'd never sell it. M-my tabard iswhole, m-my hosen are clean, m-my pack beareth me witness I 'm apeddler. Ye are ragged. I-I 'll swear on the horn afore I go that I'll bring b-back the gold."
So they gave consent unwillingly, and composed them to a nap.
When the peddler set out to Chester next morning, he had the horn inhis pack. Symme, Nicholas, and Haukyn came to the edge of the woodwith him and watched him out of sight. Before he went into the city,he stopped in the jousting-field outside the eastern wall; here werethe showmen and minstrels, the dancers and jongleurs, and cheap-jacksof all kind. Among these the peddler wandered musing, till he came topause before a man that sold black stuff in a bottle, "to make grayhair black." The peddler had a coin or two in his hand, and he boughta bottle of this stuff and stowed it in his pack; but he took out thehorn and hid it under his tabard. At the gate he showed his packempty, with only the bottle in it, and was let pass without toll,--forall who brought in wares to sell must pay toll to the Fair. Within thecity he bought a new hood, for he had had none since he came out ofDevon, and Calote told him once the sun burned his hair, it grewrusty. He lingered above an hour among the Rows; but he bought notrinkets to fill his pack, neither did he enter any goldsmith's shopto chaffer for the horn. About noon he came out and walked by the Deetill he happed on a quiet, lonely place, screened by the bushes. Here,sitting down, he first rubbed his head well with the black dye, andlet it dry in the sun the while he took out from some safe placewithin his tabard a pouch or bag, very full and heavy. When he undidthe mouth of the bag and tipped it up, there plumped out gold andsilver coin in a heap,--and he put his hand over it and looked aboutwarily before he set to counting. But there was no one nigh, sopresently he had made of one pile florins, and of another muttons, andthree rose nobles of another; and the silver he separated likewise,into groats and pence. In the end he found that he had what he knewwas there when he set a price upon the chain and the horn,--fifteenpound, odd pence. That the chain was of more value he guessed, butthis was all he had,--a goodly sum for a peddler; 't were marvel if hehad come by so much in trade. He was loth to part with all, yet he hadnot dared to offer less, for that the soldier was a shrewd rogue.
He swept all into the pouch and tucked the pouch within his breast; hedropped the horn into the point of his hood and slipped the hood overhis head, the point wagging behind; he set his empty pack afloat onthe river Dee, for now he had no money to buy trinkets. Except threegroat, he was penniless. He laughed, as his thoughts had been newthoughts and amazing.
Meanwhile, in the brown dry woodland there was strife and a discovery.
Quoth the sister of the young lad that had slain the bailiff:--
"Let 's see the horn, Calote; I 've not laid eyes on 't this day."
"Let be!" said Symme rudely. "How do ye pester the maid! ye 'll wearaway the silver with fingering."
"Nay, but I 'll show it gladly," Calote protested. "'T is smallcourtesy I may show for kindness," and she drew forth the old cow'shorn.
"Saint Jame!" cried a villein, not Symme, but another.
"Saint Mary!" gasped Calote, pale as a pellet.
"'T is stolen, mistress!" said Nicholas Bendebowe.
"Stolen!" cried out those others all at once, with loud bluster; "Whostole 't?"--"Not I!"--"Nor I!"--"Nor I!"--"Will any dare say I stoleit?"
"Where 's peddler?" asked the beggar.
They looked on one another. The soldier winked.
"Nay"--Calote cried; "he 's kind!"
"Poor wench!" said Haukyn. "Hearken! I saw him go to thee where thouwert asleep, at dawn; he knelt beside thee. When I came nigh heturned, and thrust a bright something in 's tabard."
"Ah, woe, harrow!" said she.
"Now 't is plain why he 's gone so early to the Fair," quoth Nicholas,a-shaking his head.
"He 's never gone to the Fair," said the beggar craftily. "Trust him,he 'll show his face here no more. He 'll take horn to Lancashire orYork. He 'll be afeared to sell it in Chester with the maid so nigh."
Calote was looking from one to another, distressful. When she spoke,her voice was very low.
"I 'll go after him," she said. "I 'll follow, and find him, or thehorn. Oh, cruel, cruel! Good-day, sweet friends; my heart is heavywithin me."
Some of them, the women and the other villeins, and the murderer, wentwith her to put her on the high road, making loud lament; but Symmeand Haukyn and the soldier looked on one another with a wink and anod, and turned their faces to Chester.
"Best let her go," said Nicholas. "'T will save the peddler a lie andme the wooing o' two maids side by side."
"A pretty maid," murmured Symme. "'T made mine eyes water to see hersorrow."
The beggar said nothing till he saw the peddler coming up the road;then he laughed and grumbled out:--
"So, he 's honest,--more fool!"
The peddler came on smiling, and they caught him about the neck andlooked covetous in his eyes, and thrust their fingers in his breastand his girdle, with:--
"Hast sold it?"
"Ha, ha, good cheap?"
"Fifteen pound?"
He pushed them away, and "Let 's sit," he said, "wh-where 's shade.Th-the sun 's hot as s-summer to-day."
So they sat down under a half-naked tree, and when he had taken thepouch out of his tabard, he undid the mouth and let flow out the goldand silver stream.
They sat and stared.
After a little the beggar thrust a dirty hand into the pile and letthe moneys slip between his fingers. Symme began to cry for joy, andthe soldier to laugh.
"Fifteen pound!" blubbered Symme.
"We 'll give each his share, and then to Chester," cried Nicholas,shoving the beggar's greedy hand aside. "Come, count!"
"W-what for a t-tale have ye to t-tell the maid of her horn?" askedthe peddler, scanning them each in turn.
"Ho, ho!" laughed Nicholas, "'t is already told. Hearken, brother! 'Tis a merry gest; thou art saved a sad hour;--and I 'll keep mine oldlove. I 'm a constant man."
Symme dried his eyes and snickered.
"The white-faced sister o' the lad must needs see the horn," Nicholascontinued. "Symme here would have hindered; bu
t no, Calote put herhand in the bag and plucked out--ha, ha!"
They laughed, all three, and the peddler knit his brows.
"What next?" quoth he.
"'T was plain the horn was stolen, but who cared lay claim to be athief?" went on Nicholas. "Thou wert away,--we fixed the theft o'thee."
"I thank ye of your courtesy," said the peddler.
"Nay, naught 's to fear," Symme assured him; "she 's gone."
"Gone!" cried the peddler, leaping to his feet.
"Yea, to find thee and punish."
"Which way,--not by Chester?"
"Nay, trust to us; we set her o' the wrong track. She went eastwardand north on the highway."
But ere Symme had said the last word, the peddler was off; and thoseothers sat agape. Then Symme's eye caught the glitter of the gold.
"Come back,--come back!" he bawled. "Wilt have thy share?"
But the beggar choked him and the soldier dealt him a knock in thepaunch. And whether the peddler heard or no, he did not turn back.
He took a short way through the wood and came out on the road not sofar behind Calote, and she, looking backward, saw him. In the firstmoment she began to run away, but presently she bethought her how 'twas silly to flee from a thief she had set out to take; and because hestill came on at a good pace, she sat down on a stone to wait for him.So, at last, he came up panting and wiping the sweat from his face.
"Oh, thou wicked, cruel wight!" she cried. "Thou false friend!--Itrusted thee. Alack!--I trusted thee!"
"L-l-lll-l- ww-w-," said the peddler, striving for his breath.
"Hast sold the horn?--hast sold it, thou roberd?" quoth she veryviolently, wringing her hands.
"N-nay, nor stole it, neither," he answered at last; and he took offhis hood and shook the horn out of the point into her hand.
She stood in amaze.
"But 't was stole out o' my bag," she said.
"N-not by me," he made reply. "An I had chose, I might have s-stole itmany a time in a s-solitary place where were no eye to see me take it.I m-might have s-sold it t-ten time over."
"Then who stole it?" she cried. "Was 't a jest? A sorry jest, God wot!Nor no jest, neither, for they let me go on my way. Did they know?"
"L-let well alone, mistress!" said the peddler. "He-he-here 's thehorn."
"Nay, but I will be told," she persisted. "What 's this thou 'rtkeeping from me? I 'll go back to the wood and bid Symme Tipuppe redethe riddle. He was a kindly man."
She turned away, but the peddler stayed her with his hand.
"He-hear then, an thou wilt," said he. "But I warn thee, go notb-back."
So he told her the tale of how they coveted the horn, and how he madeshift to save it for her; and she listened with a still face. At theend she dropped her head upon her arms and wept silently a long while.
"L-look up,--take heart!" said the peddler. "The ho-horn 's safe."
"But they are thieves and liars," she answered wearily. "What hope?"
"Thou hast eat st-stolen meat this fortnight," the peddler declared;"yet didst thou m-make no ou-ou-outcry."
She lifted up her head and stared on him: "But this is not the same,"she said. "That meat we did eat ought, by right, to be the meat ofevery man, not lords' only."
"So said Haukyn o' the horn. ''T is King's, quotha; 'King will sell 'tfor his people if they will ha-have it.'"
She was silent a little space; then she said: "But they took it awayby stealth. Ah, woe,--they did not ask me!--They stole it!--And Ibrought them a message of love."
"Th-they had no money in their purse. They saw other men go by to theFair."
"'T was not as if 't were mine own," she protested; "but a token, thatI might be known to speak for the King. Ah, bitter--cruel!"
"Th-they said, 'The King can give her another,--he ha-hath a plenty.'"
"Natheless, they are thieves,--roberds,--liars! What hope? What hope?"
"Who made them so?" quoth the peddler.--"The same that m-made themoutlaws, and m-murderers;--I begin to s-see 't is the lords ofEngland! Th-these do I blame! Wi-wilt thou forsake thy brothers forth-that they 're sinful? We be all sinful m-men. Come!--th-themessage!"
She got up from the roadside stone and dried her eyes, and walked withhim, but in a dreary silence. For many a mile they went on in thisfashion. At even they came to a farm-house, and Calote went in andsang for her supper. The farmer's wife was alone, and she gave Calotea bed gladly, but she drove out the peddler,--who was peddler nolonger,--for that she was afeared of his strange looks.
"But he 'll pay for 's bed," said Calote.
"N-nay, mistress," the peddler answered. "I 've n-no money but threegroat. Th-those must wait for a r-rainy day. 'T is fresh i' thefields." So he went out of the house; and she, remembering why he hadno money, wept sorrowfully. Nevertheless, she did not know how great asum he had paid for the horn.
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