*CHAPTER XII.*
_*AT THE CASTLE OF EATON SOCON.*_
While Aliva de Pateshulle lay in a dreamy state listening to the praisesof her lover, the said lover was far away on the other side of Bedford,in anything but such a complacent frame of mind.
Since the day Aliva had escaped from him up the turret stairs he had notseen her, and she had left him in much perplexity as to whether sheintended to obey her father or to follow her own inclinations.
But on one point his mind was made up. Ralph was determined to be offto the Scottish war. In any case a soldier's life or perhaps asoldier's death was still before him, and in his youthful imagination hesaw himself performing deeds of daring against the northerners, anddying heroically in the moment of victory, leaving Aliva to mourn forhis loss and regret her own cruelty.
To carry out these plans, however, it was necessary, in the firstinstance, that he should interview his uncle, William de Beauchamp, forit was by the latter's influence, as he had told Aliva, that Ralph hopedto obtain a command in the royal army.
Since they had been wrongfully deprived of their castle, Bedford was nolonger a home to the De Beauchamps. The usual gathering-place of thefamily now was at Eaton Socon, some twelve miles further down the river.The castle there has as completely disappeared as that of Bedford, but ahuge mound on the banks of the Ouse marks the site of the stronghold.Here was established a younger branch of the De Beauchamps, and hereWilliam de Beauchamp met Ralph and his kinsmen, to discuss the positionof the family, and to consult as to the best means of overthrowing therobber chief at Bedford.
"Beshrew me, Nephew Ralph," said his uncle, "if I wot what to make ofthis talk of thine of fighting against the northern savages, whensavages far worse hold the castle of thy fathers."
Ralph had been holding forth to his seniors upon the duty of a youngknight taking up his country's quarrels and joining his sovereign'sarmy.
"Ay," rejoined the lord of Eaton Socon, an elderly man, "were I but ofthy age and strength, with my gilded spurs newly girt upon my heels, Iwould never throw myself away on this mad Scottish scheme--craving hismajesty's pardon, if indeed so be that our young king favours it--whilstthere lacked not an excuse for the placing myself at the head of boldmen who would rally to the cry of 'A De Beauchamp! a De Beauchamp!'"
"And, Cousin Ralph," whispered one of his uncle's married daughters, forsome of the ladies of the family were present, "they tell me there isone in Bedford Castle with whom thou wouldest fain splinter lances, werehe but worthy to meet thee in knightly combat!"
Something of William de Breaute's visit to Bletsoe, and of his receptionthere by Aliva, had evidently leaked out.
Ralph shook his head dismally. For the time being he was that mostunhappy individual, a wet blanket to all around him, a despondent lover.
"Come now, coz," continued the Lady Mabel, "if our reverend elders willdismiss us from attendance at this table, we young folk will out on tothe castle walls and take a turn. Kinsfolk do not often gather togetherin these days, at least in our family, and thou knowest I have notforgotten old times in Bedford Castle, even though I have formed newties. Blood is thicker than water."
It was early afternoon. The mid-day meal, which took place at the thenfashionably late hour of noon, was just over. Ralph could not refusethe invitation of his fair cousin, who had been to him as a sister inhis boyhood. So, with due obeisance to the others, the pair quitted thehall, leaving their elders deep in talk over old times, and the departedglories of the house of Beauchamp, and the days of Hugo, the Conqueror'sfavourite.
In truth, Ralph was not sorry to have a confidant to whom he couldconfide his troubles. For the last few weeks both he and his uncleWilliam had been but melancholy guests at Eaton Socon, despite theefforts of their cheery old kinsman to rouse them. William de Beauchampwas naturally a taciturn, reserved man, and the loss of his affiancedbride, followed by the loss of his ancestral castle and domains, hadfurther increased the gloom of his character. His uncle's depression,of course, added to Ralph's low spirits.
"And now, fair coz," said Lady Mabel, linking her arm in Ralph's, asthey passed up a flight of stone steps leading to a walk on the top ofthe encircling wall behind the battlements, "thou art to talk to me ofsomewhat else than this Scottish war, or even the battering down ofBedford Castle about the ears of that dear friend of our family, Fulkede Breaute. Nay, seek not to deny it. I can see by thy face that thouhast somewhat to tell me, and perchance I have somewhat to tell thee."
"I have naught to say, sweet cousin, but what I have already spoken ofin the hall. But yet so be--"
"I knew it!" interrupted the lady; "so it ever is with men. First theywill tell naught--those were thy very words--and then with the samebreath they go on to say much. They are parlous, like my favouritesleuth-hound, my lord's morning gift, who at times from mere wantonnessrefuseth to feed from my hand, and then when I make a show to turn away,cannot fawn on me enough. Had I but said to thee, Let us speak of theland of the Picts and Scots, and of the honour that, forsooth, willnever be found there by Norman knights, thou wouldest straightway havespoken on what lies nearest thy heart nimbly enough. Now, thou arthesitating; thou leavest me to lay the scent, and then thou wilt follow.Yet, I gage, thou wouldest fain speak of the fair damsel of Bletsoe?"
Ralph flushed, and the lady smiled.
"Tell me," she added, "when thou last didst set eyes on thy lady-love?"
The ice was broken. Ralph thawed rapidly, and related to the Lady Mabelhis meeting with the Lady Aliva on the morrow of St. Vincent's Day, andof her sudden flight from him.
"And, in good sooth," ejaculated the lively lady, with a shrug of herfair shoulders, "in this slough of despondency hast thou remained eversince! Not so should I have done had I been in thy shoes, cousin. Thoua bold lover, Ralph, thy charger at hand! The fair damsel should havebeen on the croup of thy saddle ere she could reach the turret stair.Then hadst thou brought her hither to me, I would have guarded hersafety and honour till priest and chapel were ready, which would nothave been long waiting, I trow."
"But, cousin," Ralph put in gloomily, "thou hast forgotten: she spake tome unawares, as she confessed, and unmindful of her father's commandthat she should wed with a De Breaute. Nay, it boots not here ofcarrying off a bride. Rather let me carry off my wretched self to thewar. I spake to her of winning glory for her sake, but now, methinks, Iwould rather win death."
And folding his arms the young man leaned over the parapet of the castlewall, and gazed dejectedly into the shining Ouse below him, as if hewould fain cast himself headlong into the stream.
But Lady Mabel answered with such a ripply laugh that Ralph turned roundto her, now really offended at the light manner with which she met histragic mood.
"And what thinkest thou, Ralph, that William de Breaute will go a-wooingto Bletsoe Manor again?"
Ralph's face assumed such an angry look, as he ground out somethingbetween his teeth about "wooing" and "Bletsoe Manor," that the LadyMabel drew back, half frightened at the storm she had aroused.
"William de Breaute, in good truth, came to Bletsoe!" he ejaculated;"but when, and how? Tell me all, tell me the worst, cousin, for thelove of Heaven!"
"Thou knewest not that he went thither?" she asked, puzzled.
"I know naught of it," replied Ralph sulkily.
"And that he hath gained the hand of the Lady Aliva?" she continued.
Ralph turned upon her, furious. But the Lady Mabel laughed louder thanbefore.
"Certes he did. But upon his face!" she added.
Her cousin looked bewildered.
"Where hast thou been, and what hast thou heard these weeks last past?"Lady Mabel went on.
"Thou knowest!" replied Ralph, still offended. "Here I have been atEaton Castle with thy father. I have heard no news;" and he heaved asigh, and turning away, looked out vacantly again over the Ouse valley.
"Ay, moping like a pair of owls
at noontide, had I not come hither tobear ye company," Lady Mabel continued, "till, perchance, ye had beendriven to make two holes for yourselves in the stream yonder. By mytroth," she added, with very little of the reverence for elders whichwas such a characteristic of the age, "I intend to stir my father intolife again ere I leave Eaton; and as for thee, Cousin Ralph," touchinghim lightly on the shoulder, "I command thee to be of good cheer, and nolonger to look down on that vile cold water as though thou lovest it!"
Ralph turned to her again, though still sulky under her apparentlymeaningless gaiety.
"Now hearken to me, Ralph, and I will tell thee much of the Lady Alivathat thou wottest not of."
And Lady Mabel went on to relate the story of the second suitor's visitto Bletsoe, and of his reception, which had not penetrated to Ralph'sears, shut up hermit-fashion at Eaton.
As she continued, the light gradually broke in on Ralph's mind, and thegloom vanished from his face; and when she described the blow inflictedby Aliva upon William de Breaute, his eyes positively sparkled withdelight.
Scarcely had the Lady Mabel finished her recital ere her hearer hadrushed from her. Such broken exclamations as "My brave girl!" "Still myown!" escaping from him, he ran headlong down the steps, across thebailey yard, and abruptly disturbed his elders' conversation round theboard in the hall.
Hardly giving himself time to pay the usual salutation of respect whichthe period demanded from juniors to elders of their house, he broke inupon them with these words:--
"By thy leave, my revered uncle, and with thine, my noble kinsman, Ileave thy castle at once, tarrying but to give thee my best thanks forthy hospitality of the last few weeks."
In a moment, ere De Beauchamp could recover from his surprise, Ralph wasout of the hall again, and shouting eagerly in the yard for his groom,his squire, or any one, to assist him in getting ready his horse.
Meanwhile the guests streamed out of the hall behind him, headed bytheir host and William de Beauchamp. Lady Mabel, who had followed hercousin in his headlong career as fast as she was able, rushed to herfather.
"Stay him not!" she exclaimed; "rather bid the varlets hasten to helphim. 'Tis no demon hath gotten possession of him--unless, in goodsooth, love may be termed a demon. Speed him on his way, and I willtell whither he goes, and wherefore."
Lady Mabel's laughing face dispersed any fears which might have beenentertained for Ralph's sanity, and a moment or two later, the latter,who had hastily girded on his armour, emerged into the yard as his groombrought round his horse.
"Adieu, fair cousin!" he exclaimed. "Thou hast indeed removed a burdenfrom my heart!" he added, placing his foot in the stirrup.
At that moment a man hurried into the castle-yard through the outerbailey, and made his way through the group of serving-men and groomsgathered round the hall door.
It was a young lay-brother in the garb of a Benedictine. His long frockwas girt up round his loins, as though he had been running violently.He was muddy and wayworn, and one side of his face was smeared withblood, flowing apparently from a wound in the head, hastily bound upwith a bandage.
Tottering and reeling from exhaustion, the Benedictine pushed his way upto Ralph, his eyes staring wildly and starting from his head.
"Sir Ralph," he cried, "the Lady Aliva hath been carried captive toBedford Castle!"
And then he fell senseless into the arms of the nearest bystander.
The Robber Baron of Bedford Castle Page 12