CHAPTER XX
IN DANGER
Hope died within Felix when he thus suddenly found himself so near theexecutioner. He had known so many butchered without cause, that he had,indeed, reason to despair. Towards the sunset he felt sure he should bedragged forth and hanged on the oak used for the purpose, and whichstood near where the track from Aisi joined the camp. Such would mostprobably have been his fate, had he been alone concerned in this affair,but by good fortune he was able to escape so miserable an end. Still, hesuffered as much as if the rope had finished him, for he had no means ofknowing what would be the result.
His heart swelled with bitterness; he was filled with inexpressibleindignation, his whole being rebelled against the blundering, as itwere, of events which had thus thrown him into the jaws of death. In anhour or two, however, he sufficiently recovered from the shock toreflect that most probably they would give him some chance to speak forhimself. There would not be any trial; who would waste time in trying soinsignificant a wretch? But there might be some opportunity of speaking,and he resolved to use it to the utmost possible extent.
He would arraign the unskilful generalship of the king; he would notonly point out his errors, but how the enemy could be defeated. He wouldprove that he had ideas and plans worthy of attention. He would, as itwere, vindicate himself before he was executed, and he tried to collecthis thoughts and to put them into form. Every moment the face of Auroraseemed to look upon him, lovingly and mournfully; but beside it he sawthe dusty and distorted features of the copse he had seen drawn by thehorse through the camp. Thus, too, his tongue would protrude and lickthe dust. He endured, in a word, those treble agonies which thehighly-wrought and imaginative inflict upon themselves.
The hours passed, and still no one came near him; he called, and theguard appeared at the door, but only to see what was the matter, andfinding his prisoner safe, at once resumed his walk to and fro. Thesoldier did not, for his own sake, dare to enter into conversation witha prisoner under arrest for such an offence; he might be involved, orsuspected. Had it been merely theft or any ordinary crime, he would havetalked freely enough, and sympathized with the prisoner. As time wenton, Felix grew thirsty, but his request for water was disregarded, andthere he remained till four in the afternoon. They then marched him out;he begged to be allowed to speak, but the soldiery did not reply, simplyhurrying him forward. He now feared that he should be executed withoutthe chance being afforded him to say a word; but, to his surprise, hefound in a few minutes that they were taking him in the direction of theking's quarters. New fears now seized him, for he had heard of men beingturned loose, made to run for their lives, and hunted down with houndsfor the amusement of the Court.
If the citizen's wealth had made him many enemies (men whom he hadbefriended, and who hoped, if they could be see him executed, to escapethe payment of their debts), on the other hand, it had made him as manyfriends, that is, interested friends, who trusted by doing him serviceto obtain advances. These latter had lost no time, for greed is quite aseager as hate, and carried the matter at once to the king. What theydesired was that the case should be decided by the monarch himself, andnot by his chancellor, or a judge appointed for the purpose. The judgewould be nearly certain to condemn the citizen, and to confiscatewhatever he could lay hands on. The king might pardon, and would becontent with a part only, where his ministers would grasp all.
These friends succeeded in their object; the king, who hated alljudicial affairs because they involved the trouble of investigation,shrugged his shoulders at the request, and would not have granted it hadit not come out that the citizen's servant had declared him to be anincapable commander. At this the king started. "We are, indeed, fallenlow," said he, "when a miserable trader's knave calls us incapable. Wewill see this impudent rascal." He accordingly ordered that the prisonershould be brought before him after dinner.
Felix was led inside the entrenchment, unbound, and commanded to standupright. There was a considerable assembly of the greater barons anxiousto see the trial of the money-lender, who, though present, was keptapart from Felix lest the two should arrange their defence. The king wassleeping on a couch outside the booth in the shade; he was lying on hisback breathing loudly with open mouth. How different his appearance tothe time when he sat on his splendid charger and reviewed his knights! Aheavy meal had been succeeded by as heavy a slumber. No one dared todisturb him; the assembly moved on tiptoe and conversed in whispers. Theexperienced divined that the prisoners were certain to be condemned, forthe king would wake with indigestion, and vent his uneasy sensationsupon them. Full an hour elapsed before the king awoke with a snort andcalled for a draught of water. How Felix envied that draught! He hadneither eaten nor drunk since the night previous; it was a hot day, andhis tongue was dry and parched.
The citizen was first accused; he denied any treasonable designs orexpressions whatever; as for the other prisoner, till the time he wasarrested he did not even know he had been in his service. He was somestroller whom his grooms had incautiously engaged, the lazy scoundrels,to assist them. He had never even spoken to him; it the knave told thetruth he must acknowledge this.
"How now," said the king, turning to Felix; "what do you say?"
"It is true," replied Felix, "he has never spoken to me nor I to him. Heknew nothing of what I said. I said it on my own account, and I say itagain!"
"And pray, sir knave," said the king, sitting up on his couch, for hewas surprised to hear one so meanly dressed speak so correctly, and soboldly face him. "What was it you did say?"
"If your majesty will order me a single drop of water," said theprisoner, "I will repeat it word for word, but I have had nothing thewhole day, and I can hardly move my tongue."
Without a word the king handed him the cup from which he had himselfdrunk. Never, surely, was water so delicious. Felix drained it to thebottom, handed it back (an officer took it), and with one brief thoughtof Aurora, he said: "Your majesty, you are an incapable commander."
"Go on," said the king sarcastically; "why am I incapable?"
"You have attacked the wrong city; these three are all your enemies, andyou have attacked the first. They stand in a row."
"They stand in a row," repeated the king; "and we will knock them overlike three nine-pins."
"But you have begun with the end one," said Felix, "and that is themistake. For after you have taken the first you must take the second,and still after that the third. But you might have saved much troubleand time if----"
"If what?"
"If you had assaulted the middle one first. For then, while the siegewent on, you would have been able to prevent either of the other twotowns from sending assistance, and when you had taken the first and putyour garrison in it, neither of the others could have stirred, or reapedtheir corn, nor could they even communicate with each other, since youwould be between them; and in fact you would have cut your enemies intwain."
"By St. John!" swore the king, "it is a good idea. I begin to think--butgo on, you have more to say."
"I think, too, your majesty, that by staying here as you have done thisfortnight past without action, you have encouraged the other two citiesto make more desperate resistance; and it seems to me that you are in adangerous position, and may at any moment be overwhelmed with disaster,for there is nothing whatever to prevent either of the other two fromsending troops to burn the open city of Aisi in your absence. And thatdanger must increase every day as they take courage by your idleness."
"Idleness! There shall be idleness no longer. The man speaks the truth;we will consider further of this, we will move on Adelinton," turning tohis barons.
"If it please your majesty," said Baron Ingulph, "this man invented anew trigger for our carriage crossbows, but he was lost in the crowd,and we have sought for him in vain; my serjeant here has this momentrecognised him."
"Why did you not come to us before, fellow?" said the king. "Let him bereleased; let him be entertained at our expense; give him clothes and asword
. We will see you further."
Overjoyed at this sudden turn of fortune, Felix forgot to let wellalone. He had his audience with him for a moment; he could not resist asit were following up his victory. He thanked the king, and added that hecould make a machine which would knock the walls yonder to pieceswithout it being necessary to approach nearer than half a bow-shot.
"What is this?" said the king. "Ingulph, have you ever heard of such amachine?"
"There is no such thing," said the Baron, beginning to feel that hisprofessional reputation as the master of the artillery was assailed."There is nothing of the kind known."
"It will shoot stones as big, as heavy as a man can lift," said Felixeagerly, "and easily knock towers to fragments."
The king looked from one to another; he was incredulous. The Baronsmiled scornfully. "Ask him, your majesty, how these stones are to bethrown; no bow could do it."
"How are the stones to be thrown?" said the king sharply. "Beware howyou play with us."
"By the force of twisted ropes, your majesty."
They all laughed. The Baron said: "You see, your majesty, there isnothing of the kind. This is some jester."
"The twisted rope should be a halter," said another courtier, one ofthose who hoped for the rich man's downfall.
"It can be done, your majesty," cried Felix, alarmed. "I assure you, astone of two hundredweight might be thrown a quarter of a mile."
The assembly did not repress its contempt.
"The man is a fool," said the king, who now thought that Felix was ajester who had put a trick upon him. "But your joke is out of joint; Iwill teach such fellows to try tricks on us! Beat him out of camp."
The provost's men seized him, and in a moment he was dragged off hisfeet, and bodily carried outside the entrenchment. Thence they pushedhim along, beating him with the butts of their spears to make him runthe faster; the groups they passed laughed and jeered; the dogs barkedand snapped at his ankles. They hurried him outside the camp, andthrusting him savagely with their spear butts sent him headlong. Therethey left him, with the caution which he did not hear, being insensible,that if he ventured inside the lines he would be at once hanged. Like adead dog they left him on the ground.
Some hours later, in the dusk of the evening, Felix stole from the spot,skirting the forest like a wild animal afraid to venture from its cover,till he reached the track which led to Aisi. His one idea was to reachhis canoe. He would have gone through the woods, but that was notpossible. Without axe or wood-knife to hew a way, the tangled brushwoodhe knew to be impassable, having observed how thick it was when coming.Aching and trembling in every limb, not so much with physical sufferingas that kind of inward fever which follows unmerited injury, the revoltof the mind against it, he followed the track as fast as his weary framewould let him. He had tasted nothing that day but the draught from theking's cup, and a second draught when he recovered consciousness, fromthe stream that flowed past the camp. Yet he walked steadily on withoutpause; his head hung forward, and his arms were listless, but his feetmechanically plodded on. He walked, indeed, by his will, and not withhis sinews. Thus, like a ghost, for there was no life in him, hetraversed the shadowy forest.
The dawn came, and still he kept onwards. As the sun rose higher, havingnow travelled fully twenty miles, he saw houses on the right of thetrail. They were evidently those of retainers or workmen employed on themanor, for a castle stood at some distance.
An hour later he approached the second or open city of Aisi, where theferry was across the channel. In his present condition he could not passthrough the town. No one there knew of his disgrace, but it was the sameto him as if they had. Avoiding the town itself, he crossed thecultivated fields, and upon arriving at the channel he at once steppedin, and swam across to the opposite shore. It was not more than sixtyyards, but, weary as he was, it was an exhausting effort. He sat down,but immediately got up and struggled on.
The church tower on the slope of the hill was a landmark by which heeasily discovered the direction of the spot where he had hidden thecanoe. But he felt unable to push through the belt of brushwood, reeds,and flags beside the shore, and therefore struck through the firs,following a cattle track, which doubtless led to another grazing ground.This ran parallel with the shore, and when he judged himself about levelwith the canoe he left it, and entered the wood itself. For a little wayhe could walk, but the thick fir branches soon blocked his progress, andhe could progress only on hands and knees, creeping beneath them. Therewas a hollow space under the lower branches free from brushwood.
Thus he painfully approached the Lake, and descending the hill, after anhour's weary work emerged among the rushes and reeds. He was within twohundred yards of the canoe, for he recognised the island opposite it. Inten minutes he found it undisturbed and exactly as he had left it,except that the breeze had strewn the dry reeds with which it wascovered with willow leaves, yellow and dead (they fall while all therest are green), which had been whirled from the branches. Throwinghimself upon the reeds beside the canoe, he dropped asleep as if he hadbeen dead.
He awoke as the sun was sinking and sat up, hungry in the extreme, butmuch refreshed. There were still some stores in the canoe, of which heate ravenously. But he felt better now; he felt at home beside his boat.He could hardly believe in the reality of the hideous dream throughwhich he had passed. But when he tried to stand, his feet, cut andblistered, only too painfully assured him of its reality. He took outhis hunter's hide and cloak and spread himself a comfortable bed. Thoughhe had slept so long he was still weary. He reclined in asemi-unconscious state, his frame slowly recovering from the strain ithad endured, till by degrees he fell asleep again. Sleep, nothing butsleep, restores the overtaxed mind and body.
After London; Or, Wild England Page 26