Chapter 6: In The Hands Of The Robbers
"But wherefore should I disguise myself rather than you?" criedEdward, resisting Paul's efforts to clothe him in a long smockfrock, such as the woodmen of those days wore when going abouttheir avocations. "Our peril is the same, and it is I who have ledyou into danger. I will not have it so. We will share in all thingsalike. If we are pursued and cannot escape, we will sell our livesdear, and die together. But let it never be said that I left myfriend and companion to face a danger from which I fled myself."
The boy's eyes flashed as he spoke--he looked the very image of aprince; and Paul's heart swelled with loving pride, although hestill persisted in his design.
"Listen, Edward," he said, speaking very gravely and resolutely."It is needful for our joint safety that we be not seen together,now that we are entering a region of country where we may easily berecognized, and where watch may be kept for us. Yes, these woodsmay be watched, although, as you have said, it is probable theywill watch even more closely the other routes to the coast. But wehave come slowly, toiling along on foot, and there has been ampletime for a mounted messenger to ride back and give the warning tosuch of the robbers as are yet here. They know that the twain of usare travelling together. Wherefore, for the few miles that separateus now from the kindly shelter of the Priory, it will be betterthat we journey alone. This smock and battered hat will protect youfrom recognition, the more so when I have blackened your face withcharcoal, as I have means to do, and have hidden away all yourbright curls so that none shall see them. Walk with bent shouldersand heavy gait, as the aged country folks do, and I warrant nonewill guess who you are or molest you. Tonight, when we meet tolaugh at our adventures over the prior's roaring fire, we shallforget the perils and the weariness of our long tramp."
"But, Paul, I love not this clumsy disguise. It befits not a princethus to clothe himself. Wear it yourself, good comrade, for yourperil is as great as mine."
"Nay, Edward, speak not thus idly," said Paul, with unwontedgravity. "Princes must think not of themselves alone, but of thenation's weal. Edward, listen. If harm befalls you, then farewellto all the fond hopes of half of the people who obey the sway ofEngland's sceptre. You are not your own master; you are the servantof your loyal and true-hearted subjects, who have suffered alreadyso much in the cause. To throw your life away, nay, even to runinto needless peril, were a sin to them and to the country. I saynothing of your mother's despair, of the anguish of your bride, ifharm befell you: that you must know better than I can do. But I ama subject. I know what your subjects feel; and were you to neglectany safeguard, however trivial, in these remaining hours ofthreatened danger, you would be doing England a wrong which mightbe utterly irreparable."
Edward was struck by this argument, and hesitated.
"I only wish to do what is right; but I cannot bear to play thecoward's part, and save myself when you are still in peril."
"Tush!" answered Paul lightly, "I am tougher than you, Edward; youare so footsore and weary you can scarce put one leg before theother. If foes were to spring upon us, you would fall an easy preyat once. I am strong and full of life. I could lead them a finechase yet. But we may never sight an adversary. These woods arestill and silent, and we have heard no sounds of dread import allthese long, weary miles. It may well be that we shall reach thePriory in safety yet; but it were better now to part company andtake different routes thither. And you must don this warm thoughclumsy dress; it will keep you the safer, and shield you from thepiercing cold, which you feel more than I do."
In truth, the youthful prince was nigh worn out from fatigue,notwithstanding the fact that Paul had contrived to give him almostthe whole of their scanty provision, and had helped him tenderlyover the roughest of the way. It was true, indeed, that had theybeen attacked Edward would have fallen an easy prey; but alone inthis disguise, hobbling along with the heavy gait of an agedrustic, he would attract no suspicion from any robber band. AndPaul was eager to see him thus equipped; for they had reached thepart of the wood which was familiar to both, and the prince couldeasily find the shortest and most direct way to the Priory, whilsthe himself would make a short circuit and arrive from another pointwith as little delay as possible.
A strong will and a sound argument generally win the day. Edwardsubmitted at last to be arrayed in the woodman's homely garments,and was grateful for the warmth they afforded; for he was feelingthe bitter cold of the northern latitude, and was desperately tiredfrom his long day and night of walking. There was no pretence aboutthe limping, shuffling gait adopted; for his feet were blisteredand his limbs stiff and aching.
Paul watched him hobbling away, his face looking swarthy and oldbeneath the shade of the hat, his shoulders bent, and his blackenedhands grasping a tough ash stick to help himself along; and a smileof triumph stole over his own countenance as he heaved a long sighof relief--for he felt quite certain that in the gathering dusk noone would suspect the true character of the weary pedestrian, andthat he would reach the shelter of the Priory in safety.
It seemed as if a millstone were rolled from Paul's neck as heturned from contemplating that retiring figure. The strain upon hisfaculties during the past twenty-four hours had been intense, andwhen it was removed he felt an immense sensation of relief. Butwith that relief came a greater access of fatigue than he had beenconscious of before. He had been spurred along the road by thesense of responsibility--by the feeling that the safety and perhapsthe life of the young Prince of Wales depended in a great measureupon his sagacity, endurance, and foresight. To get the prince toLeigh's Priory, beneath the care of the good monks who were stanchto the cause of the saintly Henry, was the one aim and object ofhis thoughts. He had known all along that the last miles of thejourney would be those most fraught with peril, and to lessen thisperil had been the main purpose on his mind. Having seen the princestart off on the direct path, so disguised that it was impossibleto anticipate detection, he felt as though his life's work for themoment were ended, and heaving a great sigh of relief, he sank downupon a heap of dead leaves, and gave himself up to a brief spell ofrepose, which his weary frame did indeed seem to require.
The cold, together with the exhaustion of hunger and fatigue,sealed his senses for a brief space, and he remembered nothingmore. He fancied his eyes had been closed but for a few seconds,when some noise close at hand caused him to raise his head with astart. But the dusk had deepened in the great wood, and he saw thathe must have been asleep for quite half an hour.
He started and listened intently. Yes, there was no mistaking thesounds. A party of mounted horsemen were approaching him along thenarrow track which wandered through the wood. Paul would havestarted to his feet and fled to the thicket, but his benumbed limbsrefused their office. It was freezing hard upon the ground, and hehad lain there till his blood had almost ceased to circulate, andhe was powerless to move.
Yet even then his thoughts were first for Edward, and only secondfor himself. He rapidly reviewed the situation.
"They are on the path that he has taken. He has the start, but theyare mounted. Are they in pursuit of anyone? They have dogs withthem: that looks as if they were hunting something. It were betterthat they should not come up with Edward. In another half hour hewill be safe at the Priory, if he make good speed, as methinks hewill; for with the hope of speedy ease and rest, even the weariesttraveller plucks up heart and spirit. If they are following him, tofind even me will delay them. If not, they will pass me byunheeded. I am not likely even to attract their notice. I cannotescape if I would. I am sore, weary, and chilled beyond power offlight, and the dogs would hunt me down directly. My best chance isto rest quiet and tranquil, as if I knew not fear. Perchance theythen will let me go unscathed."
Possibly had Paul's faculties been less benumbed by fatigue and thebitter cold, he would scarce have argued the case so calmly; but hewas calm with the calmness of physical exhaustion, and in truth hischance of escape would have been small indeed. He could have madeno real effort at f
light, and the very fact of his trying to hidehimself would have brought upon him instant pursuit and capture.
So he lay still, crouching in his nest of leaves, until one of thedogs suddenly gave a deep bay, and came rushing upon him, as ifindeed he had been the quarry pursued.
"Halt there!" cried a deep voice in the gloom; "the dogs havefound. They never give tongue for a different trail than the rightone.
"Dicon, dismount and see what it is; there is something movingthere be neath that bush."
Seeing himself discovered, Paul rose to his feet, and made a stepforward, though uncertainly, as if his limbs still almost refusedto obey him.
"I am a poor benighted traveller," he said; "I pray you, can youdirect me where I can get food and shelter for the night? I havebeen wandering many hours in this forest, and am weary well-nigh todeath."
"Turn the lantern upon him, fellows," said the same voice that hadspoken before; and immediately a bright gleam of light was castupon Paul's pale, tired face and golden curling hair.
"Is this the fellow we are seeking?" asked the leader of hisfollowers; "the description seems to fit."
"If it isn't one it is the other," answered the man addressed. "Ihave seen both; but, marry, I can scarce tell one from the otherwhen they are apart. What has he done with his companion? Theyhave, been together this many a day, by day and by night."
"You were not alone when you started on this journey last night,"said the robber, addressing Paul sternly. "Where is your companion?You had better speak frankly. It will be the worse for you if youdo not."
Paul's heart beat fast; the blood began to circulate in his veins.He tried hard to keep his faculties clear, and to speak nothingwhich could injure the prince.
"We parted company. I know not where he is," he answered slowly. "Itold him to go his own way; I would not be a source of peril tohim. I bid him adieu and sent him away."
It suddenly occurred to Paul that if, even for an hour, he couldpersonate the prince, and so draw off pursuit from him, his pointmight be gained. He had not forgotten the episode of the firstadventure they had shared as children; and as we all know, historyrepeats itself in more ways than one.
The man who appeared the leader of the band, and whose face was notunkindly, doffed his hat respectfully at these words, and said, "Itis true, then, that I am addressing the Prince of Wales?"
Paul said nothing, but bent his head as if in assent, and the mancontinued speaking, still respectfully.
"It is my duty then, sire, to take your sacred person under myprotection. You are in peril from many sources in these lone woods,and I have been sent out on purpose to bring you into a place ofsafety. My followers will provide you with a good horse, and youwill soon be in safe shelter, where you can obtain the food andrest your condition requires, and you will receive nothing butcourteous treatment at our hands."
To resist were fruitless indeed. Politely as the invitation wastendered, there was an undertone of authority in the man's voicewhich convinced Paul that any attempt at resistance would be met byan appeal to force. And he had no disposition to resist. The longerthe fiction was kept up, the longer there would be for the princeto seek safe asylum at the Priory. When once those sanctuary doorshad closed behind Edward, Paul thought it mattered little whatbecame of himself.
"I will go with you," he answered with simple dignity; "I presumethat I have indeed no choice."
A draught from a flask tendered him by one of the men did much torevive Paul, and the relief at finding himself well mounted,instead of plodding wearily along on foot, was very great. He wasglad enough to be mounted behind one of the stout troopers, for hewas excessively drowsy, despite the peril of his situation. He hadbeen unable to sleep, as Edward had done, in the woodman's hut, andit was now more than thirty-six hours since sleep had visited him,and those hours had been crowded with excitement, peril, andfatigue. The potent liquor he had just drunk helped to steal hissenses away, and as the party jogged through the dim aisles of thewood, Paul fell fast asleep, with his head resting on the shoulderof the stalwart trooper, and he only awoke with a start, half offear and half of triumph--for he knew the prince was safe enough bythis time--when the glare from the mouth of a great cavern, and theloud, rough voices of a number of men who came crowding out, smoteupon his senses, and effectually aroused him to a sense of what waspassing.
"Have you got them?" cried a loud voice, not entirely unfamiliar toPaul, although he could not for the moment remember where he hadheard it before.
"We have got one-got the most important one," answered the man whohad been leader of the little band. "The other has got off; butthat matters less."
"By the holy mass, it was the other that I wanted the more," criedthe rougher voice, as the man came out swearing roundly; "I had anaccount of my own to square with him, and square it I will one ofthese days. But bring in the prize--bring him in. Let us have alook at him. He is worth the capture, anyhow, as the Chief will saywhen he returns. He is not back yet. We have all been out scouringthe forest; but you always have the luck, Sledge Hammer George. Isaid if any one brought them in it would be you."
Paul had by this time recognized the speaker, who was standing inthe entrance of the cave with the light full upon his face. It wasnone other than his old adversary, Simon Dowsett, whom he had twicedefeated in his endeavour to carry off the lady of his choice; andwho was, as he well knew, his bitterest foe. His heart beat fastand his breath came fitfully as he realized this, and he lookedquickly round toward the black forest, as if wondering if he couldplunge in there and escape. But a strong hand was laid upon hisarm, and he was pushed into the cave, where the ruddy glow of thefire fell full upon him.
Simon Dowsett, who in the absence of the Chief, as he was called,acted as the captain of the band, strode forward and fixed his eyesupon the lad, his face changing as he did so until its expressionwas one of diabolical malice.
"What?" he cried aloud; "at the old game again? You thought totrick us once more, and again to get off with a sound skin?--Lads,this isn't the prince at all; this is the other of them, who hasfooled you as he fooled the Chief himself long years ago. What wereyou thinking of to take his word for it? And you have let the realone slip through your fingers.
"Ha, ha, Sledge Hammer George! you are not quite so clever as youthought. Why did you not wring the truth out of him, when the otherquarry could not have been far off? You have been pretty gulls tohave been taken in like this!"
The other man, who had now come up, looked full into Paul's face,and asked, not savagely though sternly enough:
"Which are you, lad? speak the truth. Are you the Prince of Wales,or not?"
It was useless now to attempt to keep up the deception. Paulcarried the mark of Simon Dowsett's bullet in his shoulder, and hewas too well known by him to play a part longer. Looking full atthe man who addressed him, he answered boldly:
"I am Paul Stukely, not the prince at all. He is beyond the reachof your malice. He is in safe shelter now."
"Where is he?" asked the man quietly.
"I shall not tell you," answered Paul, who knew that these robberswere so daring that they might even make a raid on the Priory, orwatch it night and day, and to prevent the escape of the princefrom thence, if their suspicions were once attracted, to the spot.
Sledge Hammer George laid a hand upon the young man's arm.
"Now don't be a fool, lad; these fellows here will stand no morefrom you. A valuable prize has escaped them, and they will wringthe truth out of you by means you will not like, but will not beable to resist. You have a bitter enemy in Devil's Own, as he iscalled, and he will not spare you if you provoke. I will stand yourfriend, if you will but speak out and tell us where the prince isto be found; for he cannot be very many miles away from this place,as we are well assured. If you are obstinate, I can do nothing foryou, and you will have to take your chance.
"Come, now, speak up. Every moment is of value. You will be made todo so before long, whether you wish or not."
Paul's lips closed tightly one over the other, and his handsclasped themselves fast together. He thought of the vow he hadregistered long years ago in his heart, to live or to die in theservice of his prince; and though what he might be called upon tosuffer might be far worse than death itself, his will stood firm,and he gave no sign of yielding. The man, who would have stood hisfriend if he would have spoken, looked keenly at him, and thenturned away with a slight shrug of the shoulders, and Simon'striumphant and malicious face was looking into his.
"Now, lad, once more: will you speak, or will you not? It is thelast time I shall ask you."
"I will tell you nothing," answered Paul, raising his head andlooking at his old enemy with a contempt and lofty scorn whichseemed to sting the man to greater fury.
"You will not! very good. You will be glad enough to speak before Ihave done with you. I have many old scores to settle with you yet,and so has the Chief when he comes back; but the first thing is towring from you where the prince is hiding himself.
"Strip off his fine riding dress and under tunic, lads (it is apity to spoil good clothes that may be useful to our own bravefellows), and string him up to that beam.
"Get out your hide whips, Peter and Joe, and lay it on well till Itell you to stop."
With a brutal laugh, as if it were all some excellent joke, the menthrew themselves upon Paul, and proceeded to carry out theinstructions of their leader, who seated himself with a smile oftriumph where he could enjoy the spectacle of the suffering heintended to inflict. Paul's upper garments were quickly removed,and his hands and feet tightly bound with leather thongs. Anupright and a crossway beam, supporting the roof of the cave,formed an excellent substitute for the whipping post not uncommonin those days upon a village green; and Paul, with a mute prayerfor help and courage, nerved himself to meet the ordeal he wasabout to undergo, praying, above all things, that he might not inhis agony betray the prince to these relentless enemies.
The thick cow-hide whips whistled through the air and descended onhis bare, quivering shoulders, and he nearly bit his lips throughto restrain the cry that the infliction almost drew from him. Buthe was resolved that his foe should not have the satisfaction ofextorting from him any outward sign of suffering save theconvulsive writhings which no effort of his own could restrain. Howmany times the cruel whips whistled through the air and descendedon his back, he never knew--it seemed like an eternity to him; butat last he heard a voice say:
"Hold, men!
"Dowsett, you will kill him before the Chief sees him, and that hewill not thank you for. He is a fine fellow, and I won't stand byand see him killed outright. Take him down and lock him up safelytill the Chief returns. He will say what is to be done with himnext. It is not for us to take law into our own hands beyond acertain point. You will get nothing out of him, that is plain; heis past speech now."
"The Chief will make him find his tongue," said Dowsett with acruel sneer; "this is only a foretaste of what he will get when theFire Eater returns.
"Take him down then, men. 'Twere a pity to kill him too soon. Keephim safe, and we will see what the Chief says to him tomorrow."
Paul heard this as in a dream, although a mercifulsemi-consciousness had deadened him to the worst of the pain. Hefelt himself unbound and carried roughly along down some darkpassage, as he fancied. There was a grating noise, as if a door hadturned on its hinges, and then he was flung down on what seemedlike a heap of straw, and left alone in pitchy darkness.
For a time he lay just as he had been thrown, in the same trance ofsemi-consciousness; but after what had appeared to him a very longtime, he beheld as if a long way off a glimmering light, whichapproached nearer and nearer, though he was too dizzy and faint toheed its movements much. But it certainly approached quite close tohim--he saw as much through his half-closed eyelids--and then avoice addressed him, a soft, sweet voice, strangely unlike those hehad just been hearing.
"Are you indeed Paul Stukely?" asked the voice.
The sound of his name aroused him, and he made a great effort tosee through the mists that seemed to hang over his eyes. A sweetand very lovely face was hanging over him. He thought he must bedreaming, and he asked faintly, hardly knowing what he said:
"Is it an angel?"
"Oh no, I am no angel, but only the daughter of the Chief; and Iwant to help you, because I have heard of you before, and I cannotbear that they should kill you by inches, as I know they will do ifyou stay here. See, they are all fast asleep now, and there is nochance of my father's return tonight. I have brought you yourclothes, and Madge has given me some rag steeped in a concoction ofherbs of her own making, which will wonderfully ease your wounds ifyou will let me lay it on them. Old Madge is a wonderful leech, andshe cannot bear their cruel doings any more than I can, and shesaid you were a brave lad, and she made you some soup, which I willfetch for you to hearten you up for your journey. For you must getaway from here before morning, or nothing can save you from aterrible fate.
"See now, do not your poor shoulders feel better for this dressing?If you can put your clothes on whilst I am gone, I will bring yousomething that will go far to help you over your ride tonight."
It was a great effort to Paul to collect his wandering faculties,and get his lacerated and trembling limbs to obey his will; but hewas nerved to his utmost efforts by the dread of what might befallhim if he could not avail himself of this strange chance of escape.By the time the fair-faced girl had returned with a steaming basinin her hands, he had contrived to struggle into his garments, andthough quivering in every fibre of his being, was more himselfagain, and able to understand better the rapid stream of wordspoured out by the eager maiden.
"Drink this," she said, giving him the basin. "It is very good. Ithas all kinds of ingredients in it that will ease your pain andgive you strength and courage; but that you have without. Oh, Ithink you are the bravest lad I ever knew. But listen, for I amgoing to tell you a strange story. I told you that I was the,daughter of the robber chief, did I not? Well, so I am; and myfather loves me the more, I think, that he never loved any otherbeing save my mother, and she died in this very cave when I wasborn. He has always loved me and given me my own way; but theselast weeks a change seems to have come over him, and he talks ofgiving me in wedlock to that terrible man T hate worse than themall--the one they call Devil's Own. He has never spoken a soft wordto me all these years; but the past three weeks he has tried to woome in a fashion that curdles the very blood in my veins. I wouldnot wed him were I heart whole as a babe; and I am not that, for myhand and heart are pledged to another, whose wife I will surelybe."
The girl's eyes flashed, and it was plain that the spirit of thesire had descended to her. Paul was slowly swallowing the contentsof the basin, and feeling wonderfully invigorated thereby; indeed,he was sufficiently restored to feel a qualm of surprise at beingthus intrusted with the history of this young girl, and she seemedto divine the reason of his inquiring look.
"I will tell you why I speak thus freely; and I must be brief, forthe moments fly fast, and it is time we were on our way. The man Ilove is one Jack Devenish, of a place they call Figeon's Farm; andthis very night, ere my father returns, I am to meet him; and hewill carry me to his home and his mother, and there shall I lie hidin safety until such time as the priest may wed us. And, Paul, itis a happy chance that brought you hither this night instead ofanother; for we will fly together, and you will be safe at Figeon'sas I. For they will not suspect whither we have fled, nor wouldthey dare to attack a peaceful homestead near the village if theydid. They have made this country almost too hot to hold them as itis, and are ever talking of a flight to the north. Methinks theywill soon be gone, and then I can draw my breath in peace."
Paul listened in amaze. It was an effort to think of moving againtonight, so weary and worn and suffering was he; but anything wasbetter than remaining behind in the power of these terrible men,and he rose slowly to his feet, though wincing with every movement.
"I know it pains you
," cried the girl compassionately; "but oh,what is that pain to what you would have to endure if you were tostay? And you will not have to walk. My palfrey is ready tied up inthe wood, a bare stone's throw from here. You shall ride her, and Iwill run beside you, and guide you to the trysting place, where myJack will be awaiting me, and his great roan will carry the pair ofus. Now silence, and follow me. There is a narrow exit from thisinner recess in the cave known only to me and to Madge. Not one ofthe robbers, not even my father himself, knows of it. They thinkthey have you in a safe trap, and will not even keep watch tonightafter their weary search.
"Tread softly when you reach the open, lest our footsteps be heard.But it is far from the mouth of the cave, and I have never raisedan alarm yet, often as I have slipped out unawares. Give me yourhand--so; now stoop your head, and squeeze through this narrowaperture. There, here are we beneath the clear stars of heaven, andhere is my pretty Mayflower waiting patiently for her mistress.
"Yes, pretty one; you must bear a heavier burden tonight, but youwill do it gladly for your mistress's sake.
"Mount, good sir; we shall soon be out of reach of all danger."
It must be a dream thought Paul, as, mounted on a light palfrey, hewent speeding through the dun wood by intricate paths, a fairy-likefigure springing through the gloom beside him, and guiding thehorse, as he was utterly unable to do.
It seemed as if his strength had deserted him. His hands had losttheir power, and it was all he could do to maintain his seat on theanimal that bounded lightly along with her unaccustomed burden. Atlast they reached an open glade; a dark, motionless figure wasstanding in the moonlight.
"It is he--it is my Jack!" cried the fairy, springing forward witha faint cry of welcome.
"O Jack, I have brought your old friend Paul Stukely back to you.You must take care of him as well as of me, for he has been indeadly peril tonight."
In the Wars of the Roses: A Story for the Young Page 7