Darnley; or, The Field of the Cloth of Gold

by G. P. R. James

  CHAPTER XXXI.

  Three sides are sure inbarred with craggs and hills, The rest is easy, scarce to rise espy'd; But mighty bulwarks fence the plainer part: So art helps nature, nature strengtheneth art.--Fairfax.

  Sir knight, if knight thou be, Abandon this forestalled place as erst, For fear of farther harm.--Fairy Queen.

  It may well be supposed, that under the circumstances in which we lastleft Sir Osborne, his feelings could not be of the most tranquil orgratifying nature, when, after having heard all that passed upon deck,he distinguished the steps of the officer sent to arrest him comingdown the ladder. Longpole, for his part, looked very much as if hewould have liked to display cold iron upon the occasion; but theknight made him a sign to forbear, and in a moment after, a gentlemansplendidly dressed, as one high in military command, entered thecabin, followed by two or three armed attendants.

  "Well, sir," said the knight, not very well distinguishing thestranger's features by the light in which he stood, "I suppose----"But he had not time to finish his sentence, for the officer graspedhim heartily by the hand, exclaiming, "Now heaven bless us! LordDarnley, my dear fellow in arms! how goes it with you these twoyears?"

  "Excellent well, good Sir Henry Talbot," replied the knight, franklyshaking the hand of his old companion. "But say, does your businesslie with me?"

  "No, no, good faith!" replied Sir Henry; "I came upon a very differenterrand. Since I was with Sir Thomas Peechy and yourself in Flanders,by my good Lord Surrey's favour I have obtained the command of one ofthe king's great ships, and as I lay last night off the mouth of theriver, a pursuivant came down from London, with orders to stop everyvessel that I saw, and search for a traitor who is endeavouring tomake his escape to the Continent."

  The knight's cheek burned, and for a moment he hesitated whether toavow himself at once, and repel the opprobrious epithet thus attachedto the name he had assumed, and under which, he felt full sure, he hadnever merited aught but honour. A moment's thought, however, showedhim the madness of such a proceeding, and he replied, "I believe youwill find no greater traitor here, Sir Henry, than myself."

  The officer smiled. "If that be the case," replied he, "I may as wellrow back to the ship. Perhaps he may be in the other vessel thatlies-to there, about a mile to windward. But come, Darnley, leave thisfilthy Dutch tub, come with me aboard, and after we have searched theother, I will land you in any port to which you are going, if it bebetween Middlebourg and Boulogne."

  Although the knight did not feel himself bound, even by the mostchivalrous principles of honour, to betray his own secret to Sir HenryTalbot, yet he did not consider himself at liberty to take advantageof his offer, and thus make one of the king's own ships the means ofconveying him away from pursuit. He therefore replied, that as he wasgoing to Dunkirk in some haste, and the Dutchman was steering straightthither, he thought it would be best to proceed without changing hisship, though he felt extremely obliged by the offer.

  The officer received his excuses in good part, and bidding himfarewell with many hearty wishes for his future prosperity, he mountedagain to the deck, called his men together, abused the Dutchmanvigorously for a few minutes, and getting into the boat, rowed awayfor his own vessel.

  It is hardly necessary here to inform the reader, that the distinctionwhich at present exists between the naval and military services hasnot been known above a hundred and fifty years; and that,consequently, the fact of Sir Henry Talbot's having distinguishedhimself on land, so far from being a disqualification, was one of thehighest recommendations to him in the sea service! Vonderbrugius takesno notice of the circumstance, as probably the same practice existedin his time, although the latest instance that I can call to mind isthat of General Monk, who, after having lived on land all his life,grew amphibious at the age of fifty.

  However that may be, deceiving himself as we have seen, Sir HenryTalbot left the young knight to meditate over the conduct of Wolsey,who would indeed have committed an egregious piece of folly in sendingto arrest him by the name of Sir Osborne Maurice alone, if he hadknown him to be Lord Darnley, as Sir Osborne thought. Attributing it,however, to one of those accidental omissions which often disconcertthe best-arranged proceedings, the knight was congratulating himselfon his good fortune, when Master Skippenhausen descended to offer hisfelicitations also, exclaiming, "My Cot! where did you hide yourself?Under that pile of hammocks, I'll warrant."

  "No, you man of salt herrings! No, you cousin-german to a tub ofbutter!" exclaimed Longpole, whose indignation at the captain forhaving by his delay of the night before put them in such jeopardy nowbroke forth irresistibly. "No, you dyke-begotten son of a swamp and acanal! If it had not been for you we should never have run any risk,and don't flatter yourself that either you or your dirty hammockseither had any hand in saving us."

  "How did I make you run any risk, pray?" exclaimed the master. "Youwould have made me and my ship run a risk if you had been found in it;but I made you run none."

  "Stockfish, you lie!" cried the custrel. "Did you not lie in the mouthof the river all last night, when, if the blood in your veins had beenanything but muddy Dutch puddle, of the heaviest quality, you wouldhave had us over to Dunkirk by this time? Deny it if you dare,Dutchman, and I will prove it upon your body, till I leave you no moreshape than one of your own cheeses."

  The Dutchman bore the insolence of Longpole with all that calmmagnanimity for which his nation is famed (says Vonderbrugius).However, Sir Osborne desired his attendant to be silent, and merelybegging Master Skippenhausen to carry them to their destination assoon as possible, the matter ended.

  It was night before they arrived at Dunkirk; and, without troublingthe reader with all the details of their disembarkation, we shallmerely beg him to look into the little hall of the Flemish inn, andsee the knight and Longpole seated at the same table, according to thecustom of the day, which we have before alluded to, while the host,standing behind the chair of Sir Osborne, answers the variousquestions which from time to time are addressed to him; and thatblack-eyed, smooth-faced, dingy serving-boy, who one might swear was atrue sun of Hans Holbein, filches away the half-finished tankard ofraspis from Longpole's elbow, and supplies its place with an emptyone.

  "And is Sir Albert of Ko?nigstein gone to Ratisbon too?" demanded SirOsborne, pursuing the inquiries which he was engaged in makingconcerning his old comrades, amongst whom a sad dispersion had takenplace during his absence.

  "Indeed I cannot tell, sir knight," replied the landlord; "but verylikely he is with the Count of Shoenvelt, at Cassel."

  "What does Shoenvelt at Cassel?" asked the knight thoughtfully.

  "He is collecting adventurers, they say, sir, under a commission fromthe emperor," replied the host. "Some think, to go against the Moors;but most people judge, to protect the frontier against Robert de laMark."

  "But Ko?nigstein would not serve under him," said Sir Osborne,meditating over what he heard. "He is a better captain a thousandtimes, and a nobler spirit."

  "Well, sir," answered the landlord, "I tell you only what I heard.Somebody told me so, I am sure. Perhaps they command together. Boy,give his worship another tankard; don't you see that is out?"

  "Odds fish!" cried Longpole; "what! all gone? Your measures, minehost, are not like that certain knight's purse that was no soonerempty than full again. It seems to me they are no sooner full thanempty."

  "At Cassel did you say he is?" demanded Sir Osborne.

  "Not exactly at Cassel, sir knight," replied the host, glad to passaway from the subject of the tankard; "but you know Mount St. Hubert,about a league from Cassel. Your worship will find him there."

  Sir Osborne made no reply; and, after a while, the host and his legioncleared the table of its encumbrances, and left the knight and hisfollower to pursue their own thoughts undisturbed. We can hardlywonder that, though now free from all danger of pursuit, the heart ofthe young knight was sad, and that his brow was clouded with manymelancholy imaginin
gs. It may be said, indeed, that he was not nowworse in situation than when he was formerly in Flanders, at whichtime he had been happy and cheerful; but he was far worse, inasmuch ashe had since entertained hopes and expectations which were now brokenand passed away; inasmuch as he had known scenes, and tasted joys,that he had now lost, and which might never be his again. Everyenjoyment of the human heart is like a tree planted deeply in thesoil, which, when rooted out, leaves not the earth as it was before,but tears it up and scatters it abroad, and makes a yearning void,difficult to be filled again.

  However, there was one thing which he had gained: an object in life.Formerly his natural disposition, the chivalrous spirit of the age,the ardour of high health, and the strong impulsive bias given byearly associations, had impelled him onward on the only path of renownthen open to a daring spirit. But now he had a still more inspiringmotive, a more individual incitement, to press forward to the goal offame. Constance de Grey was ever present to his thoughts, furnishedthe spring of all his actions, and directed his every endeavour.Renown in arms was his already; but fortune, station, he felt he mustgain at the sword's point, and he only sought a good cause wherein todraw it.

  The report that Albert of Ko?nigstein, his old friend and companion inarms, had joined the adventurers which the Count of Shoenvelt wascollecting at Cassel, led him to imagine that the cause in which theywould be engaged was one that he could himself embrace with honour,although Shoenvelt's name had not been hitherto very famous for thebetter qualities of chivalry. He doubted not, also, from the highstation which he himself had filled in the armies of Burgundy, heshould easily obtain that rank and command which he was entitled toexpect amongst the troops thus assembled.

  The history of the various bands of adventurers of that day offers ussome of the most curious and interesting particulars of a curious andinteresting age. These companies, totally distinct from the regulararmies of the time (if regular armies they might be called), weregenerally levied by some enterprising feudal lord; and commencing,most frequently, amongst his own vassals, afterwards swelled out intovery formidable bodies by a junction with other bands, and by thecontinual accession of brave and veteran soldiers, cast upon the worldby the sovereigns they had served, when peace rendered their swords nolonger necessary. Of course, the numbers in these companies variedvery much according to circumstances, as well as their regulations anddeportment. Sometimes they consisted of thousands, sometimes of simpletens. Sometimes, with the strictest discipline and the mostunshrinking valour, they entered into the service of kings, anddecided the fate of empires; sometimes they were little better thanroving bands of robbers, that lived by rapine and hardly acknowledgedlaw. Most frequently, however, in the age of which we treat, theyvolunteered their support to the armies of their own sovereign or hisown allies, and often proved more active than the body they came toaid.

  However, if Theseus had played at pitch-and-toss with Ariadne's clue,he would never have slain the Minotaur; and, therefore, we must go onwith the thread of our own story, notwithstanding a strong inclinationto pause and sport with the subject of the adventurers. Nevertheless,thus much we will say: if our readers wish a treat, let them read thedelightful old M?moires of Fleuranges--"_L'Aventurier_," as he callshimself--which for simplicity, and, if I may use the term, bonhommieof style, for curious incident and romantic adventure, is far superiorto any romance that ever was written. Many curious particulars, also,concerning the appearance and conduct of the adventurers, may be foundin the letters of Clement Marot to Marguerite de Valois.

  But to proceed. The next morning, by day-break, Sir Osborne and hiscompanion were once more on horseback, and on their way to MountCassel, the knight having determined to learn, in the first place, theviews of Shoenvelt, and to examine the real state of his troops,before he offered himself as a companion in the adventure. In case hefound their object such as he could not himself seek, his mind washardly made up whether to offer his services to the emperor, or toFrancis King of France. His old habits, indeed, tended to make himprefer the imperial army; but, from all he had heard of the new chiefof the German confederacy, there was a sort of cold-blooded,calculating policy in his every action, that little accorded with thewarm and chivalrous feelings of the young knight; while, at the sametime, there was in the whole conduct of Francis a noble, candidgenerosity of heart: a wild, enthusiastic spirit of daring andadventure, that wonderfully attracted Sir Osborne towards him.

  Journeying on with a quick pace, Mount Cassel soon rose to thetraveller's sight, starting out of the vast plains in which it stands,like some high spirit towering above the flat multitude.

  Sweeping round its base, the knight turned his horse towards a lesserhill, at about two miles' distance, the top of which was in that daycrowned by the castle of Shoenvelt. From the plain below, as the eyewandered up the side of the mountain, amidst the wood and broom thatcovered the rock in large masses, might be seen peeping forth wall,and bastion, and outwork, while higher up, in zigzag lines upon theclear background of the sky, appeared the towers and battlements ofthe castle, with the tall donjon rising above them all, and the bannerof Shoenvelt, bearing sable a saltier gules, floating in the sunshine.

  A broad, fair road offered itself for the travellers' horses, windingalong a narrow rocky ridge, which was the only part that, slowlydescending, joined the hill gradually to the plain. All the rest wassteep and precipitous, and too well guarded by nature to be liable toattack; while overhanging this sole approach might be seen on everyside many a frowning defence, well prepared against any hostilefootstep. Gradually, as the road wound upwards, it grew narrower andmore narrow, confined between two high banks, commanded by the towersof the castle, while the road itself was completely raked by the gunsof the barbican.

  Sir Osborne remarked it all with a soldier's eye, looking on it as amechanist does on some fine piece of art, and observing the purpose ofevery different part. Pressing on, however, he soon arrived at thegate, and demanded if Sir Albert of Ko?nigstein was in the castle.

  Though it was a time of peace, no gate was opened, and the soleresponse of the soldier to whom he spoke was, "Who are you?" utteredthrough the grille of the barbican. The knight gave his name, and theman retired without making any further answer.

  "This looks like precaution, Longpole," said the knight. "Methinksthey would run no great danger in letting two men pass the gate,though they may be armed at all points."

  "I suppose the custom of this castle is like the custom of arat-hole," replied Longpole, "to let but one in at a time. But I hopeyou won't stay here, my lord. I have an invincible hatred at beingbuilt up. As much of the camp and fair field as you like, but Lorddeliver me from stone and mortar! Besides, this place smacksmarvellously of a den of free companions. Look at that fellow with thepike on his shoulder; neither his morion nor his corslet has knownsand and the rubbing-stick since his great ancestor was drowned withPharaoh; and 'twas then his harness got so rusty, depend on it."

  "In a Red Sea, I am afraid," said Sir Osborne. "But here comes thejanitor."

  As he spoke, the guardian of the gate approached with a bunch of keys,and soon gave the knight the means of entrance. Sir Osborne, however,still held his bridle in, and demanded once more if Sir Albert ofKo?nigstein was in the castle.

  "I cannot tell you, sir," replied the soldier. "I know not the titlesof all the knights here. All I can say is, that I gave your name anderrand to my lord, who sits at table in the great hall, and that hegreets you heartily and invites you in."

  At this moment a group of gentlemen appeared, coming through the gateof the inner ballium, and Sir Osborne, not doubting that they had beensent by the count to conduct him to the hall, saw that he could notnow avoid entering, whether the officer he sought was there or not.Riding through the gate, then, he dismounted, and giving his horse toLongpole, met the party he had seen advancing, the principal of whom,with much reverence and courtesy, prayed the Sire de Darnley, on thepart of Count Shoenvelt, to enter and quaff a cup of wine with him.Sir
Osborne expressed his willingness to do so in the same strain, andthen repeated his inquiry for his friend.

  "We are unhappy in not having his company," replied the gentleman;"but I believe the count expects him here in a few days."

  He was a young man who spoke, and there was a sort of flush came overhis cheek, as he announced the probable coming of Ko?nigstein, whichinduced Sir Osborne to imagine that his report was not very correct;and fixing his eye upon him, he merely said, "Does he?" with a slightdegree of emphasis.

  "Yes, sir, he does," said the youth, colouring still more highly. "Doyou mean to say he does not?"

  "Not in the least," said Sir Osborne, "as you may see by my seekinghim here; and I am sure that so gallant a squire as yourself wouldnever swerve from truth."

  The young man bent down his eyes, and began playing with hissword-knot, while Sir Osborne, now perfectly convinced that the wholetale was a falsehood, followed on in silence, prepared to actaccording to this opinion. In a few minutes they passed through theportal of the keep, and entered at once into the great hall, up themidst of which was placed a long table, surrounded by the chief ofShoenvelt's adventurers, with various pages and varlets, serving themeats and pouring out the wine. Round upon the walls hung the arms ofthe various guests, cumbering every hook or peg that could be found;and where these had been scanty, they were cast upon the ground behindthe owners' seats, together with saddles and bards, and other horsecaparisons; while in the corner leaned several scores of lances,mingled amongst which were one or two knightly pennons, and many asheaf of arrows, jostled by the upstart weapons destined in the end tobanish them from the stage, such as hackbuts, hand-guns, and othernewly-invented fire-arms.

  At the farther end of the table, digging deeply with his dagger in achine of wild-boar pork, which had been just placed before him, satthe Count of Shoenvelt himself, tall, strong-limbed, and grisly, witha long, drooping, hooked nose, depressed at the point, as if some onehad set his thumb on it, at the same time squeezing it down, andrather twisting it on one side. This feature was flanked, if one mayuse the term, by a pair of small, keen, hawk's eyes, which expressedmore active cunning than vigorous thought; while a couple of immenseears, sticking out on each side of his head, and worn into variousirregular callosities by the pressure of his helmet, gave a singularand brute-like appearance to his whole visage, not easy to bedescribed. He was dressed in a hacqueton, or close jacket of buffleather, laced with gold, on which might be seen, especially towardsthe arms, sundry daubs and stains, to the number of which he had justadded another, by dashing all the gravy over his sleeve, in hisfurious hacking of the large and stubborn piece of meat before him.This accident had called into his face not the most angelicexpression, and as he sat he would have made a good picture of aninferior sort of devil; the whole effect being heightened by a strongray of light passing through a purple pane of the stained glasswindow, and falling with a ghastly lustre upon his dark, ferociouscountenance.

  The moment, however, that he perceived Sir Osborne, his brow wassmoothed, and rising from his seat, he advanced towards him with greatexpression of joy. "My dear Lord of Darnley!" cried he, taking him inhis arms and pressing him to his bosom with a hug that the knightwould willingly have dispensed with; "welcome! a thousand timeswelcome to St. Hubert's Castle! Whether you come to stay with us as acompanion, or whether you are but a passing guest, your visit is anhonour and a delight to all within these walls. Knights andgentlemen," continued he, "pledge me all a cup to the health of theSire de Darnley."

  To the party by whom he was surrounded, such a proposal was whatnobody felt at all inclined to reject, and consequently there wasinstantly a loud rattling of cups and tankards, and no one complainedthat his bowl was too full. All pledged Lord Darnley, and he could notrefuse to do them justice in a cup of wine. After which, taking theseat that Shoenvelt assigned him by his side, the knight gazed overthe various grim and war-worn faces which were gathered round thetable, some of which he knew merely by sight, and some who, havingexchanged a word or two with him in the various reciprocations ofmilitary service, now looked as if they claimed some mark ofrecognition. Sir Osborne was not the man to reject such appeal, and hegave the expected bow to each, though amongst them all he saw no onewho had greatly distinguished himself for those high feelings andgenerous virtues that ever marked the true knight.

  Many were the questions that were asked him; many the conjectures thatwere propounded to him for confirmation, respecting the designs ofFrance and England, and of Germany; and it was some time before hecould cut them short, by informing his interrogators that he had beenfor the last three months in his own country, so deeply occupied byhis private affairs that he had given no attention to the passingpolitics of the day. The whole party seemed greatly disappointed,entertaining apparently a much more violent thirst for news than eventhat which is commonly to be met with in all small communities, cutoff from general information, and unoccupied by greater or bettersubjects of contemplation.

  As soon as the meal, which was drawing towards its end when SirOsborne entered, was completely concluded, Shoenvelt rose, and beggedto entertain him for a few minutes in private; which being agreed to,he led him forth into a small space enclosed with walls, wherein theprovident chatelain had contrived to lay up, against the hour of need,a very sufficient store of cabbages, turnips, carrots, and other_canaille_ of the vegetable kingdom, which might be very serviceablein case of siege. Here, walking up and down a long path that borderedthe beds, with Sir Osborne on his right, and a knight named Wilsten(whom he had invited to the conference) on his left, Shoenveltaddressed Lord Darnley somewhat to the following effect; generally,while he did so, fixing his eyes upon vacancy, as a man does whorecites awkwardly a set speech, but still from time to time giving aquick sharp glance towards the knight's countenance, to see theimpression he produced:--

  "Valiant and worthy knight--ahem! ahem!" said Shoenvelt. "Every one,whether in Germany or France, England or Spain, or even here in ourpoor duchy of Burgundy--ahem! ahem! Every one, I say, has heard ofyour valorous feats and courageous deeds of arms; wherefore it cannotbe matter of astonishment to you, that wherever there is a captainwho, having gathered together a few hardy troops--ahem! ahem! isdesirous of signalizing himself in the service of hiscountry--ahem!--wherever there is such a one, I say, you cannot besurprised that he wishes to gain you to his aid." Here Shoenvelt gavea glance at Wilsten, to see if he approved his proem; after which heagain proceeded:--"Now you must know, worthy knight, that I havehere in my poor castle, which is a strong one, as you mayperceive--ahem!--no less than five hundred as good spearmen as evercrossed a horse, which I have gathered together for no mean purpose. Apurpose," he continued, mysteriously, "which, if effected, will notonly enrich all persons who contribute their aid thereto, but willgain them the eternal thanks of our good and noble emperor--ahem!ahem! I could say more--ahem!"

  "Tonder, man! tell him all," cried Wilsten, who had served with SirOsborne, and had the reputation of being a brave and gallant knight,though somewhat addicted to plunder; "or let me tell him, for yourbedevilled 'hems' take more time than it would to storm a fort. Thisis the case, sir knight. A great meeting is to take place between theKing of France and the King of England at the border, and all thenobility of France are in motion through Picardy and the frontierprovinces, covered with more gold than they ever had in their livesbefore. Even Francis himself, like a mad fool, is running fromcastle to castle, along the frontier, sometimes with not more thanhalf-a-dozen followers. Now, then, fancy what a rich picking may behad amidst these gay French gallants; and if Francis himself were tofall into our hands, we might command half a kingdom for his ransom."

  "But I thought that the two countries were at peace," said the knight,with a coldness of manner sufficiently marked, as he thought, toprevent any further communication of the kind.

  Wilsten, however, was not to be stopped, and replied, "Ay, a sort ofpeace; a peace that is no peace on the frontiers. Don't let thatfrighten you: we can p
rove that they were the first aggressors. Why,did not they, less than ten days ago, attack the garrison of St.Omers, and kill three men in trying to force the gate? Have they notravaged half Hainault? But, however, as I said, be not startled atthat. Shoenvelt saw the emperor about two months ago, who gave him tounderstand that we could not do him a better service than either totake Francis alive or give him a stroke with a lance. And fear notthat our plans are well laid: we have already two hundred menscattered over the frontier; every forest, every village, has its tenor twelve, ready to join at a moment's notice, when we sound to thestandard: two hundred more follow to-night, and Shoenvelt and Ito-morrow, in small parties, so as not to be suspected. Already wehave taken a rich burgher of Beauvais, with velvets and cloths of goldworth a hundred thousand florins. But that is nothing: the king is ourgreat object, and him we shall have, unless some cursed accidentprevents it; for we do not hunt him by report only: we have ourgaze-hound upon him, who never loses sight. What think you of that,sir knight? Count William of Firstenberg, Shoenvelt's cousin, who isconstantly with Francis, ay, and well-beloved of him, is our sworncompanion, and gives us notice of all his doings. What think you ofthat, sir knight--ha?"

  "I think him a most infernal villain!" cried Sir Osborne, hisindignation breaking forth in spite of his better judgment. "Byheaven! before I would colleague with such a traitor, I'd have my handstruck off."

  "Ha!" cried Shoenvelt, who had marked the knight's coldness all along,and now burst into fury. "A traitor! Sir knight, you lie! Ho! shut thegates there! By heaven! he will betray us, Wilsten! Call Marquard'sguard; down with him to a dungeon!" and laying his hand upon hissword, he prepared to stop the knight, who now strode rapidly towardsthe gate. "Nay, nay," cried Wilsten, holding his companion's arm."Remember, Shoenvelt, 'tis your own hold. He must not be hurt here;nay, by my faith he shall not. We will find a more fitting place:hold, I say!"

  While Shoenvelt, still furious, strove to free himself from Wilsten,Sir Osborne passed the gate of the garden, and entered the space ofthe outer ballium, where Longpole had pertinaciously remained with thetwo horses, as close to the barbican, the gate of which had been leftopen when they entered, as possible, seeming to have had a sort ofpresentiment that it might be necessary to secure possession of thebridge.

  The moment the knight appeared without any conductors, the shrewdcustrel conceived at once that something had gone wrong, sprang uponhis own horse, gave a glance round the court to see that his retreatcould not be cut off, and perceiving that almost all the soldiers werenear the inner wall, he led forward his lord's charger to meet him.

  Sir Osborne had his foot in the stirrup when Shoenvelt, now brokenaway from Wilsten, rushed forth from the garden, vociferating to hismen to shut the gate and to raise the drawbridge; but in a moment theknight was in the saddle; and spurring on, with one buffet of his handin passing, he felled a soldier who had started forward to drop theportcullis, and darted over the bridge.

  "On to the other gate, Longpole!" cried he. "Quick! Make sure of it;"and turning his own horse, he faced Shoenvelt, who now seeing him gonebeyond his power, stood foaming under the arch. "Count of Shoenvelt!"cried he, drawing off his glove, "thou art a liar, a traitor, and avillain, which, when you will, I will prove upon your body. There liesmy gage!" and casting down his gauntlet, he galloped after Longpole,who stood with his sword drawn in a small outer gate, which had beenthrown forward even beyond the barbican.

  "Up! archers, up!" cried Shoenvelt, storming with passion; "up, lazyvillains! A hundred crowns to him who sends me an arrow through hisheart. Draw! draw, slaves! Draw, I say!"

  In a moment an arrow stuck in Sir Osborne's surcoat, and anotherlighted on his casquet; but, luckily, as we have seen, the more easilyto carry his harness or armour, he rode completely armed, and themissiles from the castle fell in vain.

  However, lest his horse should suffer, which, not being sufficientlycovered by its bard to insure it from a chance arrow, might have beendisabled at the very moment he needed it most, the knight spurred onas fast as possible, and having joined Longpole, descended the narrowway by which they had mounted.

  Still for some way the arrows continued to fall about them, thoughwith less assured aim and exhausted force; so that the only dangerthat remained might be apprehended either from the guns of the castlebeing fired upon them, or from Shoenvelt sending out a body ofspearmen in their pursuit. Neither of these, however, took place, theinhabitants of the country round, and the commander of Cassel, beingtoo jealous and suspicious of Shoenvelt already for him to do anythingwhich might more particularly attract their attention; and to thiscause, and this cause only, was Sir Osborne indebted for his unpursuedescape.