CHAPTER XLIV
A MYSTERIOUS EXIT
Fortunately for Oliver Icingla, he did not persevere in his resolutionof doing battle with a whole herd of wild bulls, for if he had he couldhardly have failed to get the worst of the encounter, and died much moreobscurely than, as the last of his line, it was his ambition to do.Immediately changing his plan, he hastened to climb the tree under whosebranches he had made his couch; and having called the bloodhound todesist from the fray, he resolved on keeping the seat which he occupiedtill the cattle thought fit to take themselves elsewhere.
However, Oliver very soon became convinced that he was likely in thatcase to have a much longer vigil than suited his inclination orconvenience. Adopting, therefore, the expedient of moving from tree totree--which was just possible, seeing that they grew thick and that thebranches interlaced--he ultimately, with much difficulty, and notwithout considerable danger to neck and limb, and which was all thegreater from his being incumbered with his axe, contrived to get to asafe distance from the spot where the herd were still madly andfuriously tearing up the ground that had been smeared with blood, andbellowing with savage rage. Muttering his thanks to the saints for hisrelease from a peril which he had so little foreseen, Oliver took hisway towards the camp of refuge, which he contrived to reach a littleafter sunrise. But he soon found that he was scarcely himself: his dreamhaunted him awake and asleep, and next day he was prostrate, and sofeverish that the aid of the anchorite of the isle was invoked.
In a few days, however, Oliver recovered his strength sufficiently tomove about, and he was seated among the ruins and conversing withCollingham about their position and prospects when Wolf the varletsuddenly presented himself, and related, with tears in his eyes, allthat had befallen at Oakmede, from the moment when he was alarmed by theapproach of the French to the hour when Dame Isabel was laid at rest inSt. Dunstan’s Chapel. Oliver listened sadly and in silence, and did notindicate even by a gesture either his indignation or his wish to haverevenge. But he internally swore a solemn oath to fight the Count dePerche whenever and wherever he should meet him, and not to part tillone or the other had fallen, and in the event of his killing the countto cut off his head and carry it to Oakmede and hang it by the hair on atree, that it might be food for crows.
Collingham was differently affected, and intimated that he, at allevents, was determined to have an eye for an eye, and a tooth for atooth.
“By the rood,” exclaimed he, as Wolf told the story, “this noble Countde Perche shall know better ere long with what manner of man he has todeal. He has whetted the beak of my raven, and there is not a raven inSussex like to lack its food this spring if I can find French carrionenough to supply them.”
Within half an hour of Wolf’s arrival in the island proclamation wasmade in a loud voice--“Let no man in this camp henceforth take quarterfrom or give quarter to the foreign invaders, on pain of being held meanand niddering; and if any man in the camp will not conform to this rulelet him depart on the morrow at break of day.”
Not a man, however, left the island at the time appointed formalcontents to depart, and from that day the war against the Frenchgarrisons was carried on with greater energy and fierceness than before.Blood flowed daily. The soldiers, indeed, could scarcely stir from theirquarters to procure forage without being attacked by bands of ten, ortwenty, or forty, just as it happened. Oliver spoke little, but he wasseldom at rest. His dream had made a strong impression on hisimagination, and he never thought of Beatrix de Moreville withoutfeeling desperate. His mother’s sad fate, silently as he had heard ofit, had affected him acutely, and, alone and friendless in the world, hefelt reckless. Nothing cheered him but action, and he pursued the war sounsparingly that wherever he and his band appeared, the French, unlessin strong force, fled, shouting, “Gare le corbeau!” The struggle, as itbecame more intense, was felt throughout all Sussex. It appeared thatthe county was rapidly becoming too hot to hold both the foreigners andthe patriot warriors of the camp of refuge; such of the natives as hadsubmitted to the yoke and owned Prince Louis as their lord, and givenhostages for their good faith, trembled for their lives; and beingbetween two fires, as it were, with Collingham and his thousandvolunteers on one side and Eveille-chiens with his mercenary bands onthe other, they cursed their hard fate, and durst not walk abroad, noteven in the grounds around their houses. So that the dwelling of everyEnglishman who had bent his knee to the French prince was in thecondition of a besieged town, the inmates being furnished with weaponsto defend themselves in case of need, and the gates and doors with ironbolts and bars. When the family was about to retire to rest, the head ofit, after ascertaining that everything was secure, rose and recited theprayers which are offered up at sea on the approach of a storm, hesaying in conclusion, “The Lord bless and aid us!” and all his householdanswering, “Amen.”
When the Lord de Coucy became aware of the stage which affairs hadreached in Sussex, he despatched thither fresh troops and orders toEveille-chiens to destroy the camp of refuge at all hazards and at anycost, and to put all within it to the sword, and at the same timeprevailed on Hugh de Moreville to send Ralph Hornmouth with a body ofarchers and crossbowmen to aid in the operation. Not much relishing thecommission, Eveille-chiens nevertheless mustered his forces, both horseand foot, and approaching the islet--not now environed by water, butmerely by marshes--he surrounded the place so completely that heflattered himself that his success was certain.
Collingham took no notice of this arrival; but the French coulddistinctly see the outlaws as they moved about among the trees andshrubs and stood behind the trees watching the preparations making fortheir destruction.
“Now by St. Remy, to whom the doves brought the sacred oil,” exclaimedEveille-chiens, gaily, “this stinking crew can no more escape me nowthan birds can escape from the net of the fowler!” and, with exultationin his countenance, he turned to Ralph Hornmouth.
“Not unless they have the wings of birds,” replied Hornmouth; “fornought else could save them at the press to which matters have come.”
“But mark you how boldly they show themselves,” said Eveille-chiens, alittle indignant that they treated his presence so coolly. “Sir squire,”added he, gravely, “deem you that they have gathered much booty intothis stronghold of theirs?”
“Fair sir,” answered Hornmouth, “small chance is there, I trow, of bootybeing collected by men who follow William de Collingham, who has everbeen like the rolling stone that gathers no moss. Besides, if my eyessee aright, they are so poverty-stricken that the beggar would disdainthe ragged clothes they wear; and I have heard that when Master Icingla,who is known to your soldiers as ‘White Jacket,’ and six others of thegang fought last week, one to three, against the captain of Bramber,whom the French call Bastard of Melun, and the captain’s mail waswell-nigh hacked to pieces, and his sword-arm so disabled that he isnever like to couch lance again, he had little to cover his nakednesssave his boots, and the long white garment by which he is known to hisenemies.”
“Ha, sir squire!” exclaimed Eveille-chiens, vindictively; “you do wellto remind me that I owe this White Jacket the only kind of debt which Inever, by any chance, forget or fail to pay. If I take him alive I’llhave his eyes put out and his hands cut off by the wrists. By St. Remy,the Bastard of Melun shall have such revenge on the outlaw as I caninflict on his behalf.”
With such feelings, Eveille-chiens pushed on the labours of the men who,under the protection of Hornmouth’s crossbowmen and archers, were busywith the construction of a causeway by which the cavalry might pass themorass, enter the island, and charge and trample down the Englishpatriots in a mass.
Collingham, however, offered no interruption to the operations; and onthe second day the aspect of the island was such, and the silence sounbroken, that Hornmouth began to suspect that Collingham meditated somedesperate achievement, or had sure intelligence that Philip de Albiniand John Marshal were coming to his rescue. About the close of the thirdday all doubts as to t
he state of the camp, and the cause of nointerruption having taken place, were set at rest.
It was about seven o’clock on the evening of the Feast of St. Mark theEvangelist, and the causeway having been completed, the forces ofEveille-chiens, both cavalry and infantry, were drawn up in order tomake the assault. Having stationed his archers and crossbowmen on themargin of the morass to keep the enemy at bay during the passage of thecauseway, Hornmouth assumed the post of danger, and led the van acrossthe morass, and penetrated into the island. De Moreville’s squirenaturally expected an obstinate and terrible resistance--the resistanceof men, under a daring chief, reduced to despair, and determined to selltheir lives at the dearest rate. But, to his astonishment, heencountered no opposition while passing the causeway; he entered theisland without striking a blow; and penetrated to the ruins in thecentre without meeting with a human being.
At first Hornmouth could hardly believe his senses, and next hesuspected an ambush; but a little investigation convinced him that therewas no mistake about the matter. The island was deserted. Even theanchorite was not to be found among the ruins which he had so longhaunted while endeavouring to read the stars and penetrate the future.Hornmouth gave way to superstitious fright, and he felt as if his hairswere standing on end, and when Eveille-chiens came up he found the stoutsquire staring in blank amazement.
“By bread and salt!” exclaimed he, regaining his courage; “they aregone--vanished, every man and mother’s son of them; and I am no trueChristian if this is not magic, or something worse.”
“May St. Remy defend us from the devices of the devil!” exclaimedEveille-chiens, growing pale--“St. Remy defend us against the devil andour enemies, the tailed English! and I vow, on being restored to my ownsweet land, to make a pilgrimage to his shrine, and to present twosilver candlesticks and an image of wax to his church.”
Runnymede and Lincoln Fair: A Story of the Great Charter Page 46