by John Bowling
CHAPTER XIII.
BARON VIGNEAU BAULKED OF HIS REVENGE.
"Midnight brought on the dusky hour, Friendliest to sleep and silence."
Milton.
The pall of darkness is spread over the face of Nature, and the boldoutlines of the mountains are shrouded in its embrace. Under cover ofthe darkness, a cordon of vigilant and daring sentinels are closing inupon the castle and its carousing inmates. One stealthy figure glidespeeringly from tree to tree amongst the clump of towering chestnuts,until he reaches one near the wall, when, throwing his legs around it,and catching hold of the tough and sinewy shoots in the bole, he mountsaloft, and perches daringly amid the branches of the tree, watching theremnant of the Normans who still are able to keep up the orgie. But mostof them are now fast in the arms of a sodden sleep.
Another figure, on hands and knees, with snake-like motion has left thethicket of laurel, hazels, and flowering currants at the foot of theslope in front, and wriggles his way up the rising ground on which thecastle is built, until he comes daringly close to the wall; whilst theshort, sharp scream of the night-owl, issuing from first one point andthen another, tells that concerted action is afoot. The secret of it is,that Wulfhere has rallied a band of the hardiest Saxons, if needs be, todare a desperate deed of rescue on behalf of their captive chieftain.Many a fierce Saxon, with naked sword and eagerly listening ear, islurking around, ready for any deed that may be required of him.
Wulfhere and a trusty comrade are standing together at the foot of agigantic oak in an adjoining wood. The capacious trunk tells that formany centuries it has looked down upon its contemporaries. The decayedand verdureless branches, clustered around its centre, tell also thatthe process of decay has been progressing for a longer span of time thanis permitted in the life of mortals. If we ascend it for a few yards weshall find that, just where its stout limbs divide themselves from thebole, a yawning cavern has taken the place of its once stout heart, intowhich a man would find no difficulty in descending.
"I think there are none of the enemy on the alert, and we may venture,"said Wulfhere to his companion. So saying, he mounted the tree anddisappeared in the recess, and, sliding down until he reached theground, he quietly removed some leaves and other _debris_; then therewas visible a trap-door, which he raised, revealing a flight of steps,which he descended, followed by his companion. Drawing forth a hornlantern, with tinder-box and flint, he struck a light, and the pairbegan slowly marching along in the direction of the castle. But they hadnot proceeded very far before they were saluted by a familiar voice.
"What ho, Wulfhere! what are you venturing?"
After the first violent consternation, Wulfhere found his tongue.
"We essayed a rescue, my lord, but you have saved us the trouble. How isthis? We scarcely hoped to find you alive at this time, much less a freeman."
"A miracle, Wulfhere! I account it a miracle, for I am as one given backfrom the dead. But more anon. Let us haste for the present, for Itremble lest it should turn out that it is but a dream, and that therewill follow a horrid awakening."
The trio quickly retraced their steps, and stood together in the wood,Wulfhere uttering a series of peculiar calls well known to every Saxoncomprising the band of rescuers. Quickly, one by one, they rallied tothe spot; and when they saw their chieftain safe and well theirdemonstrations of joy were most exuberant--almost frantic--many of themdancing round him like satyrs in the dim light of the wood, each and allmost anxiously demanding by what strange chance he had obtained hisliberty. As they hastily retreated to the hills, Oswald briefly relatedto his followers the circumstances of his release by two Norman women,who at dead of night had boldly opened the prison door and unfetteredhim--Oswald carefully laying upon his followers the injunction that noharm should be done to the Norman women, and that special regard shouldbe paid to the Norman lady, daughter of Count de Montfort. He alsoenjoined upon them the strictest secrecy as to the agents who had takenpart in it.
* * * * *
Early on the morrow there was a grand muster of the Norman men-at-armsin the castle yard. Many of them who had taken part in the assault onthe castle were not followers of the Count, but mercenaries, who wereeager for further advance in quest of plunder. To this multitude who hadfought for him, and stayed their hand from plunder and burning, at hisrequest, a liberal donative of gold was distributed; and presentlythree-fourths of the soldiery shouldered arms and marched northwards toswell the ranks of the desolating host which carried fire and swordthroughout the north of England, and to the borders of Scotland.Blood-curdling were the dreadful scenes of slaughter that were enacted;not less than two hundred thousand Saxons perishing in that ruthlessmassacre.
Alice and Jeannette were astir betimes in the morning also; in fact,Alice had not closed her eyes during that night of suspense. Withconsiderable daring, in the morning she and Jeannette passed from roomto room, from basement to roof, in search of evidence that the Saxon hadmade good his escape, starting and trembling violently as the wildshouts of the men fell upon their ears, lest it should be but the heraldof Oswald's recapture.
"There remains but the tower, Jeannette," said Alice, after they hadexplored, as best they could, the various rooms of the castle. Sotowards the dismal winding stair of the tower they hastened, and therein the semi-darkness they came across the cloak which Alice had lent thefugitive. Then Alice remembered the parting words of the Saxon,--that'she would find the cloak at the bottom of the stair.' Slowly theyscrambled up these stairs, often-times having literally to grope theirway. When they reached the top they peered anxiously around, but notrace of Oswald was to be seen. Looking over the battlements, theybeheld Vigneau, Pierre, and a number of men making preparation for whatthey considered a morning's sport. Some had fenced round a smallenclosure, and others had kindled a large fire, in which were heatingpincers and long iron spikes wherewith they purposed torturing the Saxonchieftain. Vigneau, casting a glance up at the castle, perceived Aliceand Jeannette peering over the battlements and watching the fiendishpreparations.
"Pierre," said Vigneau, "do you see _la grande dame_ watching us? Weshall find her sport soon the mawkish damsel will sicken at, I warrant.I would like to tie her to the spot and make her look on whether shewill or no."
"You will win no gracious smiles by this work, I doubt, my lord; itwould have been better done farther away," said Pierre.
"I neither care for her smiles nor her tears. I have got the hook in hergills and I'll land her in my own fashion, and she may struggle andflounder as she will. I can bring her ladyship or her precious sire totheir knees as I like. You shall see presently. But come along, bringhalf a dozen of your men with you; we'll have Samson up now."
So away they hastened to the cells to fetch their prisoner.
"Jeannette," said Alice, "I am ready to faint! Do you think the Saxonhas escaped? I fear he could never scale that horrid wall; and if he bebut hiding on the roof or in the cells he will be surely caught."
"If I could push these huge stones upon the Baron's head I would do itfreely," said Jeannette.
Just at that moment a wild shout came pealing up the stair.
"Oh, Jeannette," said Alice, "let me sit down! They have found him, Ifear! This is sickening!"
Just at that moment a soldier was seen to dash from the door of thecastle and fly across the enclosure and through the gate. This was thesentinel who had taken Paul Lazaire's place; and who, as soon as hefound the prisoner gone had himself fled for life and was seen no more.
Speedily a hue and cry was raised. The castle was searched within andwithout with the utmost minuteness. Vigneau's violence and rage werefearful, and his demeanour that of a wild beast baulked of his prey.
It is needless to say that I was well-nigh overjoyed when Badger brought me the wonderful news of Oswald's deliverance. I gave God praise, for truly it was little less than a miracle. Badger, by some means or other, seemed to be constantly in possessio
n of all information as regarded the movements of the Normans as well as the Saxons. Truly, he seemed ever on the alert. By night he was constantly in conference with the outlaws. Marvellously, also, he gained the goodwill of the Normans, and he became a repository of all their secrets. Unfortunately for us, Vigneau and his men quartered themselves at the abbey; and, fearful for Ethel's safety, I made Badger the bearer of the following letter to Oswald, who had, I was pleased to hear, found a retreat which promised some prospect of immunity from molestation; and, as I said, I had become most nervously anxious for the welfare of Ethel now that Vigneau had taken up his abode so near to her retreat.
"To the most noble and valiant Ealdorman Oswald, greeting.--Having been assured by yourself that you purpose devoting your great wisdom and undoubted valour to the most worthy cause of protecting and succouring your unfortunate and distressed countrymen, in these most perilous times, I would fain bring to your notice that most evil times have befallen the house of your late neighbour, the Thane Beowulf, in that his lands, like your own, have become forfeit. But, what is even more distressing, he, along with his son, has been slain whilst endeavouring to prevent the spoliation of their possessions by the Normans. His lovely and accomplished daughter Ethel had fled to these cloisters for safety; but inasmuch as this most holy sanctuary is involved in the general ruin, being seized by violent hands, and remains at this present in possession and under the control of beings who are little better than fiends--men who have no regard for sacred things, and who in their cruelty and lust spare neither age nor sex--violent hands have been laid upon Ethel, but happily she hath been delivered out of their hands as a 'bird from the fowler,' by the combined address and valour of the bearer of this message. Unfortunately there is no place of safety for her, for the remnant of her father's housecarles and fiefs are a scattered band, and outlaws. She hath for the present, however, found a temporary place of shelter in the dwelling of one of her father's rangers, who hath a rude abode in 'Hooded Crow's Gyll.' But this is at best a precarious refuge, for, as soon as the Normans muster courage to explore the forest, she will inevitably fall into their hands again. If thou canst befriend this orphaned one, the God of the friendless and distressed bless thee! If thou canst offer her a more secure shelter, the bearer of this missive--whom doubtless thou wilt know--may be safely trusted to guide thee to the herdsman's hut. Most sorrowfully I salute thee.
"Adhelm, Abbot, "Monastery of ----. [symbol: cross]
This epistle duly reached Oswald, who, as I surmised, lost no time insetting about a rescue. Calling Wulfhere, three horses were quicklysaddled--one for Oswald, one for Wulfhere, and one for Badger, who wasto act as guide.
"Lead the way," said the Earl; "and keep by the hills as far aspossible, for the Normans as yet have had no time to spare from theireating, drinking, and plundering, to explore the hill country, and, Idoubt not, we shall go unmolested."
With these directions, the three horsemen started off, keeping to thehills, where their vision could sweep the valleys and lowlands with somuch accuracy that it would have been impossible for an enemy to come atany time within a couple of miles of steep climbing without beingperceived. A little more than an hour's ride brought them to the pointfrom whence they must strike the forest and lowlands. They paused for aminute or two, calmly surveying the hillsides, and minutely scrutinisingevery object which had any indefiniteness or uncertainty about it. Butthe curlews swept the long circle of the hills, uttering their plaintivecries, and the hawks glided over the tops of the trees, or darted in andout amongst them to start their prey into the open, or, on poised wing,they rested motionless in the air, scanning with keen vision the groundbeneath them, and ready to pounce like a flash upon any luckless mouseor tiny rabbit that had ventured on an excursion from its hole.
"The presence of man--or, at least, of men--is not here," said Oswald,"or these shy denizens of the solitudes of Nature would betray it bytheir unrest. Lead on, Badger; we shall not be molested, I trust."
So Badger struck out for the lowlands at a rapid pace, presentlyplunging into the head of the wood which ran up the valley somehalf-mile beyond the unbroken forest. In the bottom of this valley orgorge, a water-course was speeding away from the hills, occasionallyleaping over falls of several yards. But, amongst the unsolvablemysteries of Nature, trout in goodly numbers had penetrated beyond them,and in every pool or temporary resting-place of the waters, theseenterprising denizens of the flood abounded. The three followed a roughpath by this water-course for a considerable distance, until it mergedin the well-nigh interminable forest.
Suddenly Badger diverged from the path, and, dismounting, led his horsethrough the thicket, putting aside the branches as he passed. Presentlya rude dwelling became visible, with a little clearing around it. Thiswas the spot where the herdsman, or, more properly speaking, the ranger,dwelt. It was a rough and primitive sort of building, made of wood.Stout oak limbs, deeply inserted into the ground, and from which thebark had been removed, formed the main supports, whilst the arched roofand interspaces of the sides were interlaced in most fantastic shapes bysmaller branches of the oak, all carefully peeled. Upon this frameworkof oaken branches the roof and sides were dexterously thatched byheather from the neighbouring moor, and over all a rude daubing of mudand lime mixed; the whole making a rude, but, nevertheless, a warm anddry abode. Around the entrance there was a few yards paved with smoothlimestone pebbles gathered from the neighbouring brook. Amid these wereinterspersed most fantastically the knuckle-bones of deer, sheep,wolves, and other animals. Grotesque and whimsical all this seemed, butit jumped with the fancy of the architect, who was literally a child ofthe forest. Badger, as he drew nigh, heard hasty scuffling of feet andbarricading of the door. But when he gave a knock all was as still asdeath in a moment.
"Hillo, within there!" shouted Badger. "There is nothing but good Saxonshere."
The ranger's wife recognised at once the voice of Badger, and undid thedoor; and the three entered, leaving their horses standing together.Ethel, meanwhile, was listening within in great trepidation, but whenshe discovered that their unexpected visitants were Saxon, she emergedfrom an inner room. As her eyes rested upon Oswald, who had removed hishelmet, the burning blushes mounted in a deep crimson glow to her faceand neck, and she cast an anxiously nervous look at her disarrangedtoilette.
"Ah!" said Oswald, taking her hand and raising it to his lips, "is thisthe sweet little Ethel who used to watch us rough boys play at thejoust, and fence with our broadswords?--whom we used to accompanythrough the Bruneswald on her hawking expeditions? Why, how you havegrown, too! To be sure, these terrible times have left no opportunitiesfor neighbourly amenities. Why, 'tis three years since I last set eyesupon you. Ah, I know 'tis very sad," said he, as he saw the tears startinto her eyes; "but dry those eyes, timid one, we will endeavour to finda covert where you may hide; and we will put about it a girdle of steel,and woe shall be to the Norman who obtrudes his hated presence near."
But these gentle words only seemed to open the floodgates still wider,and the frail frame of the fair girl quivered with emotion. Recently shehad passed through sufferings, privations, terrors innumerable; but asshe looked upon the mailed warrior before her, it seemed as though avery tower of refuge had been found. The most casual observer would havebeen powerfully impressed by the striking contrast in these two humanbeings--Ethel, with her fair complexion, deep blue eyes, and richtresses of fair hair falling with unkempt gracefulness over hershoulders, being a picture of maidenly grace, and an ideal high-bornSaxon maiden; whilst the Earl's tall, muscular frame, well-shapen head,and curly locks, seemed like a modern Hercules made for the times, andequipped by Nature to play a conspicuous part in a troublousepoch,--times, in which personal prowess, dauntless courage, and acommanding presence were essential qualities in one who aspired to be aleader
of men.
We can scarcely wonder that there should be a touch of more than wontedgentleness in the tone of his voice, as he spoke to this fair andsorrowing maiden.
"We heard of your misfortunes, fair one," said Oswald, "and we have cometo offer you such succour as a dispossessed Saxon can still offer. Ifear me it will be but a rude shelter for so gentle a guest. It may beprecarious, and subject to alarms, too; but I warrant it shall have ameasure of safety, if you will accept of it."
"Thank you, my lord. Alas! that is all that I have to offer for yourgreat kindness. I will gladly accept your offer, and I will try not tobe altogether a burden to you."
"Now, my worthy dame," said Oswald, addressing the ranger's wife, "youhave done a good deed in sheltering this lady."
"We have but done our duty. She is our lawful mistress. We have fed onher father's bounty, and enjoyed his protection, and the sorrow is tosee her brought to this pass."
"Where is thy husband?"
"He is adown the Gyll on the watch."
"Canst thou call him?"
"Presently, my lord, if you wish to see him."
"Yes, let us see his face. We may be able to befriend him, and he us."
The woman reached from the side of the dwelling a small whistle, madefrom a branch of the plaintain tree, and, going to the door, she blew alow and peculiar note, then listened for a second; but there was noresponse. Then a little louder she blew the same note. Immediately therecame trembling through the wood a response.
"He will be here soon," said the woman, coming back to the dwelling.
Presently, the ranger pressed through the bushes into the enclosure; inone hand a dish of fine trout dangled on a string, and in the other handa pheasant. But there was no mark of surprise on Bretwul's countenanceas he beheld his visitors.
"How now, friend. Thou art not alarmed, I see," said Oswald.
"No; I have one eye for the hills, and another for the dales, and I knowa Saxon any gait, and my old comrade Badger in any guise."
"So thou hast busied thyself in securing these dainties for thymistress, I presume?"
"Yes, I have sent one of my trusty shafts after this dainty bird, and Ihave poked under a few stones in the brook for these trout. Here," saidhe, throwing his quiver on the floor, "are a score of cloth-yard shafts,and every one a trusty friend, and never fails. I have taken great painsin the rearing of them. I have tried them all at a mark, and I have alltheir peculiarities logged up in my brain-pan. I have taken the swerveout of them, as nearly as I can, by paring their heads, and twistingtheir tails; but they have all a mind of their own at the finish. But Iknow their minds as well as they know themselves, and I can allow, to ashadow, what they require and I can shoot a Norman's eye out atfourscore paces with any of them. Look, also; all these heads have beenmade by Sweyn, the Sheffield armourer; all of them forked ye see, andmake a dainty little slit between a Norman's ribs as they enter; butgramercy! getting them out, there's the rub! I have been watching formany a day down the Gyll, for the Normans have been getting bold,ransacking the forest in quest of Saxon refugees. A slice of luck, and acrumb of comfort, has fallen to me this morning."
"Oh! Hast thou had some of them within reach of thy cloth-yard shafts,then, this morning?"
"Marry, that I have! and I have tickled one or two of them with a longstick; but they didn't laugh, mark you."
"Oh, then, we'll have thy story, Bretwul, for we are all anxious to hearhow they like messages from our woodsmen."
"Well, it came about thus. There is a little path from the valley leadsup to our cot. 'Twas worn, before these dogs came, be assured, for weshall make no further tracks, yet awhile. As I was out this morning, onthe rough side of my cottage--that is, the side turned to the foe--andon the look-out for them, three or four of these Normans had come acrossthe track, and, of course, they naturally thought there would besomething at the end on't. Well, there was something in the middle thatsatisfied them. No sooner did I see them coming, than I says to myself,'Come on, my bucks! I've got something warm for you, and you can have itfor nothing but love.' I planted myself in the bush not forty pacesaway, and I selected my choicest shaft. This is him," said he, pullingone out of the quiver, still red with blood. "I'd trust my life on thisshaft, master, for he never fails. Well; on they came, and I gave himall the strength of my arm, and plump in the throat my arrow struck theforemost Norman, and he dropped in the path. Gramercy! His fellowsdidn't even stop to say to him, 'Are you much hurt?' or even to inquireif there was any more of the same sort about; but they turned tail,master, if you believe me, and they ran--why, Badger here couldn't haveoverhauled them, and he's the nimblest fellow in these parts. Well, Isays to myself, 'I should not like you to go empty away, any of you, ifI can help it.' So I lodged another of my shafts pretty securely, Iwarrant, in the buttocks of the last one, and the fellow never haltedfor a moment to inquire what it was, but he carried off my shaft. Isuppose they will be busy now inviting it to come out; but, depend uponit, it will hold its own as closely as any Norman could stick to aSaxon's goods. I've lost a good shaft over him, but it will tickle himfor many a day yet; and he'll want nobody to scratch the place, either.There, marry! it's bad manners to stand prating before my betters, but abit of news of this sort I like, either to hear or tell it."
"It is news good either to hear or tell," said Oswald, "and we shall beglad to hear more of thy stories when thou hast any as good as this. Butprithee, my good fellow, what is this bundle of shafts in the corner?"
"These, master, are my youngsters, and they haven't quite finished theirschooling. They are trusty shafts enough when you come to closequarters, but, like an unbroken colt, a trifle skittish when accuratework has to be done. I'll make them steady goers by-and-bye. Wifehaven't you a drink of mead or a bite of anything for our guests? Thisis Oswald, our only chieftain in these parts. Don't you remember hiscoming to the hall and playing joust and broadsword with Master Beowulf?A stout rogue he was, too, in those days. This is Wulfhere, Folkfree andSacless (lawful freeman); Badger, too, a merry fellow--like myself,though, thrall and bondman, but as trusty a knave, I trow, as breathes."
"I like thy mettle, Bretwul, if such be thy name; but what dost thoupurpose to do? Wilt thou stay here and take thy luck single-handed, ordost thou intend to make terms with the Normans, and accept such merciesas they may bestow?"
"'Down with the Normans,' is the Saxon's good word now, and it has beenmine from the first. The Bruneswald, and the company of the merryoutlaws who range it, would suit me best; but hopping about in thewoods, like a squirrel from tree to tree, does not suit the womenfolkand my toddlers. But shift I must now; after to-day's business therewill be no staying here. I left yon fellow across the path as a sort ofwarning to trespassers, but it won't act long, for the Normans will comeagain in larger numbers, and the game will soon be up."
"Maybe thou hast heard that we have made a stand on the hills yonder?"
"Ay, ay! that I have, master."
"If thou likest to bring thy wife to Tarnghyll, where we are shelteringfor the present, she and the little ones will be much safer, and thywife Eadburgh will be useful to Lady Ethel. By-the-bye, thou hast abrace of falcons and some fishing gear, I see; and I warrant there is aferret or two in that hutch outside. Every man to his craft, and marry,thine is a serviceable one just now. If thou wilt do thine office forthy mistress and the rest of us, why then bring thy tackle, and thoushalt ply thy craft for us, and be assured we shall not grumble if thouwaste an occasional shaft upon the buttocks of any bold or pryingNorman. Hast thou any of thy comrades, servants of the worthy ThaneBeowulf, hiding hereabouts who are willing to take a new master? Ifthere are, bring them along with thee, for any one sturdy enough todespise the Norman yoke, and anxious to loose a shaft in defence of theSaxon's cause, will be heartily welcomed, for we purpose a venture inwhich a man who can shoot straight will do us good service."
"That will be blithe news, I trow, for there are a number of thehousecarles of the worthy Thane, my late m
aster, who are casting aboutfor something more settled-like than the wolf's-head life of the forest.In truth, there will be a merry gathering of stout outlaws at thehermit's cave on Crowfell at nightfall. I would be keen to carry yourmessage to this trysting. At our last gathering the talk ran much onyour defence of the castle, and some of these are forest men and outlawswho range the woods as far south as Sherwood. Anyway, I warrant me thenatives of these parts will hear the news with rare glee, for a dalesmanlikes to keep in the shadow of his hills and fells. Stout men at a pushyou'll find them, and ready to stand to their weapons with the best, andas slippery as eels when they must shift for themselves. Say the word,and I'll see it runs through these parts like a heather-fire in a stiffbreeze."
"Good! Bretwul, stir up these fellows, the more the merrier, for we arenot going to play hide-and-seek with these Normans, and the stouter themustering the better we can deal with them."
Bretwul's wife set before the visitors a stout repast--spoils of thechase and the flood--for Bretwul was an adept at his vocation. Thevisitors also were well supplied with hunger-sauce, and they did rarejustice to it.
"Well, Badger," said Oswald, "you seem to have taken such a liking toyour new friends that you could not bear parting with them on any terms,so we must leave you behind, and wish them joy of their friend."
"Gramercy, master, it is true! I am such a simple fellow that I can waga paw with these Normans in all meekness and humility; but I have asnare or two set on my own account, and the game always finds its wayfellward. Leave me alone, I'll wriggle through it somehow; and, by ourLady, I've had no broken bones thus far."
So Oswald, Wulfhere, and Ethel sped them on their way--Ethel beingaccommodated with the spare horse.
"Come, Ethel, my girl, you must dry those eyes, for I shall take noteeach day, be assured, to see how the sunshine comes back again to yourcountenance," said Oswald, pleasantly.
"I am afraid I shall prove to be a great burden, and very little of ahelp to you in your struggles."
"Oh, yes; you will be just such a burden as the wild flowers, as littletending and as fragrant and beautiful as they."
Ethel blushed scarlet, and made haste to change the subject. "Do youthink, my lord, this Norman Count is bent on exterminating all Saxonswho do not yield them vassals to him?"
"Nay, Ethel girl, why this formality? I used to be Master Oswald; I prayyou let the honest Saxon name suffice. I cannot tell what De Montfortintends, but I fear he will let nothing slip that he can by any meansgrasp; but I have determined I will know the best or the worst of hisintentions. I shall open negotiations with him, and ascertain, ifpossible, if he purposes we shall dwell in peace and as freemen."
"But you will not venture so far as to put yourself in his power? I prayyou, trust them not, for they are insatiable in their cruelty," saidEthel anxiously.
"No fear, Ethel, of my putting myself in his power. Having once tastedthe horrors of captivity I shall not risk its repetition rashly; but Ihave a plan, and I shall speak with him face to face. I may tell you,despite the many reasons we have for undying hatred and no compromise, Ihave a deep-rooted conviction that for the present, at all events, atruce on reasonable and honourable terms will be immeasurably best forthe Saxon cause."
"The land is undoubtedly prostrate, and time is urgently needed ere itcan rally once more," said Ethel.