*CHAPTER VII*
*"*_*ARCADES AMBO.*_*"*
In the evening of the day on which the strange scene at St. Alban'sAbbey just described had taken place, Sir Fulke de Breaute sat with hisyounger brother in the lord's private room at Bedford Castle.
The Robber Baron was in a complacent mood, well satisfied with himself.
"By St. Denis," he muttered, "methinks I have done a good morning'swork;" and he reached across to the huge flagon of hippocras that stoodon the table beside him, and poured himself out a deep draught. Then hepassed the wine across to his brother, who sat moodily staring into thelog-fire.
"Fill up, brother; meseemeth thou wantest cheering."
"'Tis heady, this heavy English wine," replied the other sulkily. "Ilike it not overmuch. Give me the pure clarets of France and Italy," headded, but replenishing his horn all the same.
Sir Fulke looked askance at his brother. A great change had come overWilliam since that eventful evening when he had ridden back from Bletsoein a perfect frenzy of jealousy and passion, his curses keeping time tothe rattle of his horse's hoofs. First and foremost he had cursed Ralphde Beauchamp--for now he knew that he had a rival--and in his rage hedrove the rowels again and again deep into the flanks of his unfortunatesteed. Next he cursed all the De Beauchamp family and all connectedwith it. Then gnashing his teeth, he recollected how De Pateshulle hadurged him to prosecute the suit which had resulted in such direhumiliation. But here he had paused in his curses.
He could not couple the name of De Pateshulle's daughter with an oath.Her face haunted him as he rode along: her face--first, cold and set asmarble, as when she stepped in majesty into the hall; and then, flushedand flashing, with gleaming eyes and distended nostrils, as she turnedto him from the window, and took those six paces to confront him. Herscornful beauty seemed to madden him, and a wild lurid passion seizedhim.
He had flung himself from his horse in the castle-yard, and strode intothe hall, scattering curses right and left at the astonished servants,used only to such a display of anger from his elder brother.
For weeks after this outburst he lived in a state of broodingsullenness, broken only by occasional violent fits of rage. Hissister-in-law, if she met him in the hall, turned and fled. Even prettyBeatrice Mertoun, whom he was wont to regard with more favour thanperhaps the bold miner would have approved of, flitted past him asquickly as possible, with a mere nod.
Sir Fulke observed this change in his brother with grim satisfaction.In furtherance of his new evil schemes he determined to turn to good orbad account the dormant ferocity which had been aroused.
"Marry, brother," he remarked, "methinks there sits a cloud on yourbrow, as if your thoughts were far away--perchance over Bletsoe way?" headded, with a grim chuckle.
"What's that to you?" retorted William sullenly. "In good sooth you hadbetter mind your own business, and attend to your masses, and yourflagellations, and your retreats, along with the rest of the women folk,and leave my thoughts to myself!"
"I crave your pardon, brother," replied Sir Fulke, in mock humility."Fill up again, man. I was a fool not to see that your meditations weretoo unpleasant to be connected with so fair a subject as the LadyAliva."
"The Lady Aliva!" exclaimed William fiercely, leaning forward on thetable eagerly, and confronting his brother, his chin supported on hishands, and his eyes gleaming--"the Lady Aliva! By the mass, I swear toyou, brother, I cease not to think of her night and day! I see her everbefore me, those eyes, those flashing eyes, that queenly form; I dream Iclasp her, and I awake mad with despair! May the curses of St. Denis ofFrance light for ever on that traitorous villain who dared supplant me,on that lying fool of a De Pateshulle, who--" And he buried his face inthe deep flagon once more, as if to drown his feelings.
Fulke laid his hand firmly on his arm.
"Hark ye, brother," he said; "calm yourself and lower your voice. Ihave somewhat to say unto you which I care not that all the varlets inthe hall hear. Do you wish for vengeance on a De Pateshulle?"
"Do I?" gasped William. "Try me!"
"So be it. I will put vengeance within your reach. It shall lie withyou to take it, if you carry out the plan I have in my head."
"Another fat abbey to sack!" cried the younger brother. "In good sooth,brother, you smite with your hands while you give your back to besmitten," he laughed.
"Not so," rejoined Fulke. "I am in no mind to meddle with churches forthe nonce. This is quite another kind of deer to chase. You mind thatspecial commission of the king's justices, convoked at Dunstable notlong since to inquire into certain of my doings in these parts, which itseemed pleased not those most concerned with them. It hath come to myknowledge that the court has pronounced judgment against me. They may,by my troth, if it pleases _them_, for it does _me_ no harm. No lessthan thirty verdicts did they bring against me," he went on chuckling,"and for these thirty verdicts some one shall suffer, I warrant me,though it shall not be he whom their worships had in their mind's eyewhen they delivered them!"
William gazed at his brother admiringly. His weaker, shallower brain,already somewhat fuddled with his copious libations of the past fewweeks, followed him with difficulty.
"Beshrew me, brother, if I see what nail thou art hammering at. Thesejustices will have none of me."
"But I fain will that you have some of them," Fulke went on. "It wouldbeseem ill to the repentant son of Holy Church to lift his arm so soonagainst her after she has absolved him, for one of these justices is apriest. But you, brother, owe her naught. From trusty sources I learnthat these three legal spiders are to meet again at Dunstable forfurther spinning as soon as this retreat at Elstow is over. Now, whatsay you, brother, to meeting them upon their journey thither, and tobringing to Bedford Castle, instead of to Dunstable town, the worshipfulThomas de Muleton, Henry de Braybrooke, and Martin de Pateshulle?"
"Martin de Pateshulle!" interrupted William eagerly. "Pardie! a DePateshulle is a quarry that would please me well."
"He is learned in the law, this priest," Fulke continued, apparently notheeding how his fish had risen to his bait. "The king can fare illwithout his counsel in these parts, and methinks, were he and hisbrother worships safe caged in our stronghold here, it would prove Fulkede Breaute to be a greater fool than men hold him for did he not getwhat ransom he named. But, certes, I would be merciful, as it beseemethwith a priest. I would ask neither silver nor gold, naught save theremission of the thirty judgments that are out against me. What sayyou, brother? Is the snaring this legal vermin to your mind?"
"'Twould be good sport, by my troth!" ejaculated William, "thoughmethinks it is no easy emprise! To seize the king's justices! 'Tis abold swoop, brother."
"Tush!" replied Fulke scornfully; "there speaks no brother of mine! Itrow a De Breaute, bastard from a little Norman village, had ne'er satin the seigneur's parlour of this, one of the fairest of Englishcastles, had he piped in that strain. Take another draught, brother,"he added, pushing the flagon across.
"In good sooth, this English wine warms the blood in this cursed land offogs," apologized William, draining his horn. "But I must have some ofyour best varlets at my back, Fulke--fellows who know the country, andplenty of them."
"Trust me, I will let fly my best trained hawks for such game as this,man! These reverend justices shall have a fair retinue to Bedford--anoble train! Take heart o' grace. Think thee of thy vengeance. It is aDe Pateshulle that is the booty!"
"Ha! a De Pateshulle!" exclaimed William, screwing up his courage stillfurther by another drink. Then he added sulkily, "Would it were theniece and not the uncle!"
Fulke smiled grimly.
"And why not?" he asked quietly.
William, half stupified as he was fast becoming, saw the development ofa new plot.
"Pardie! That proud maiden here! Helpless--a prisoner! Niece snaredwith the uncle! Ha, ha!" he cried, his eyes rolling excitedly. "Ha, myl
ady! who would say me nay a second time? Not you, by St. Denis, Iwarrant me!" and he laughed wildly. "Travel they together, say you?Father Martin to Bletsoe--the haughty lady to Dunstable; nay, beshrewme, it is Father Martin to Dunstable, and--"
Here he fell forward on the table and burst into a maudlin giggle. SirFulke rose, pushed the wine-flagon out of his reach, and called to twovarlets from the hall to carry his brother off to bed.
The Robber Baron of Bedford Castle Page 7