by G. A. Henty
CHAPTER V
A RESCUE
"Perhaps, boys, you could hardly have been introduced at Court betterthan by myself," the knight said, as they returned to the lodgings."There are men much more highly placed, many more influential than Iam, but for that very reason I can be friends with all. The king'smother is always most courteous to me, because I was the friend of theBlack Prince, her husband; and she has taught her son that, whatevermight come, he could rely upon my fidelity to his person. On the otherhand, no one has reason either to dislike or fear me. I am a simpleknight, longing most to be at home, and at the Court as seldom as maybe; besides, I hold myself aloof from both parties in the state, foryou must know that the Court is composed of two factions.
"The one is that of John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, uncle of theking. He is greatly ambitious; some men even say that he would fainhimself be king, but this I believe not; yet I am sure that he wouldlike to rule in the name of the king. He has a powerful party, havingwith him the Duke of Gloucester, his brother, and other great nobles.On the other hand, he is ill-liked by the people, and they say atCanterbury the rioters made every man they met swear to obey the kingand commons--by which they meant themselves--never to accept a kingbearing the name of John, and to oppose Lancaster and Gloucester.
"The king's mother has surrounded him with a number of men who, beingfor the most part of obscure birth, have no sympathy with John ofGaunt's faction, and oppose it in every way.
"Doubtless the majority of these are well fitted for the office thatthey hold, but unfortunately there are some amongst them, for the mostpart young and with pleasant manners and handsome faces, whom the kingmakes his favourites. This again is well-nigh as bad as that John ofGaunt should have all the power in his own hands, for the people lovenot king's favourites, and although the rabble at present talk much ofall men being equal, and rail against the nobles, yet at bottom theEnglish people are inclined towards those of good birth, and a king'sfavourite is all the more detested if he lacks this quality. England,however, would not fare badly were John of Gaunt its master; he is agreat warrior, and well-nigh equal in bravery to the Black Prince. Itis true that he is haughty and arrogant; but upon the other hand, he isprudent and sagacious, and although he might rule England harshly, hewould rule it wisely.
"However, I hold myself aloof altogether from state matters, and Itrust that you will strive to do so. I would fain see the king take allpower into his own hands as soon as he gets somewhat older; but if hemust be ruled, I would prefer that it was by a great Englishman ofroyal blood rather than by favourites, whose only merits are a fairface, a gallant manner, and a smooth tongue, and who are sure not onlyto become unpopular themselves, but to render the king himselfunpopular. It is for this reason that I journey so seldom to London,and desire that you should also hold yourself aloof from the Court. Icould not be here without taking one side or the other. It cannot belong, however, before the king becomes impatient of his tutelage by thedukes, and we shall then see how matters go.
"It will be time enough then for you to frequent the Court, though itwere better even then that you should do as I did, and leave suchmatters to those whom it concerns and content yourself with doingservice to England in the field. From my friendship for the BlackPrince I, of course, know John of Gaunt well, and should there be, asseems likely, fierce fighting in France or in Spain--for, as you know,the duke has a claim to the crown of Castile--I will cross the waterwith you and present you to the duke, and place you in the train ofsome of his knights, comrades of mine, but who are still young enoughto keep the field, while I shall only take up arms again in the eventof the king leading another great army into France."
The two friends spent much of their time in wandering about the streetsof London. To them all seemed peaceable and orderly; indeed, they keptin the main thoroughfares where the better class of citizens were to beseen, and knew little of those who lived in the lower haunts, issuingout seldom in the daylight, but making the streets a danger forpeaceable folks after nightfall.
Upon one occasion, however, they took boat at Westminster and wererowed to Richmond. They had ill-chosen the occasion, knowing nothing ofthe hours of the tide, and so returned against it. It was thereforeeight o'clock when they reached the Stairs, and already growing dark.They knew that orders had been given that the gates were to be closedto all at eight, lest some of the great bodies of rioters shouldapproach suddenly and enter the city.
The watermen, wearied by their long row, refused to carry them anyfurther. There was nothing for it but to walk round the walls and soreturn to their lodging. The moon was shining brightly, and it seemedto them as they started that it would be a pleasant walk. They followedthe Strand, where on the right stood many houses of the nobles, and thegreat palace of John of Gaunt at the Savoy, in which, after the battleof Poictiers, the captive king of France had been lodged.
Turning off to the left some short distance before they reached thecity wall, they held their way round the north side of the city. Londonhad already overflowed its boundary, and although in some places fieldsstill stretched up to the foot of the walls, in others, especiallywhere the roads led from the gates, a large population had establishedthemselves. These were principally of a poorer class, who not onlysaved rent from being outside the boundary of the city, but were freefrom the somewhat strict surveillance exercised by its authorities.
They were just crossing the road leading north from Aldersgate whenthey heard a scream and a clashing of swords a short distance away.
"Come, Albert, some evil deed is being done!" Edgar exclaimed, and,drawing his sword, ran at the top of his speed in the direction of thesound, accompanied by Albert. They soon arrived at the top of a streetleading off the main road. A short distance down it a number of menwere engaged in conflict; two of these, hearing the footsteps, turnedround, and with a savage oath, seeing that the new-comers were butlads, fell upon them, thinking to cut them down without difficulty.Their over-confidence proved their ruin. Edgar caught the descendingblow on his sword, close up to the hilt, and as his opponent raised hisarm to repeat the stroke, ran him through the body.
"Do you want help, Albert?" Edgar cried, as the man fell.
"No, I think that I can manage him," Albert said, quietly, and a momentlater slashed his opponent deeply across the cheek. The fellow turnedand took to his heels, roaring lustily. One of the other men, who wasstooping over a prostrate figure, with his dagger raised, paused for amoment to look round on hearing the howl of his comrade, and as he didso Edgar's sword fell on his wrist with such force that hand and daggerboth fell to the ground. The remaining ruffian, who was roughlyendeavouring to stifle the shrieks of a young girl, seeing himselfalone with two adversaries, also darted off and plunged into a narrowalley a few yards away.
Edgar paid no more attention to them, but exclaimed to the girl: "Ceaseyour cries, I pray you, maiden, and help me to see what has happened toyour companion. I trust that he is unharmed, and that we have arrivedin time to prevent those villains from carrying out their intentions."He stooped over the fallen man. "Are you hurt badly, sir?" he asked.The answer was an effort on the part of the person he addressed to rise.
"I am hurt, but I think not sorely." He was unable for the moment torise, for the man whom Edgar last struck lay across him. Edgar at oncehauled the moaning wretch off him, and held out his hand to the other,who grasped it with more heartiness than he had expected, and rosewithout difficulty to his feet.
"Where is my daughter?" he exclaimed.
"IN A MOMENT EDGAR'S SWORD FELL ON THE RUFFIAN'S WRIST."]
"She is here and unhurt, I trust," Albert replied. "The villainreleased her and ran off, and I saw her figure sway, and ran forwardjust in time to save her from falling. I think she has but swooned."
"Thanks be to the saints!" the stranger exclaimed. "Gentlemen, I cannotthank you at present for the service that you have rendered me, but ofthat I will speak later. Know you any place where you can take mychild?"
&n
bsp; "We are strangers, sir; but there should surely be some hostelry nearwhere travellers could put up outside the walls."
The noise of the combat had aroused some of the neighbours, and oninquiry Edgar ascertained that there was an inn but a short distanceaway.
"Let me carry the maid, Albert. Her weight would be naught to me."
Albert gladly relinquished his charge, whose dead weight hanging on hisarms was already trying him. Edgar raised her across his shoulder.
"Albert," he said, "I know you have a piece of thin cord in yourpocket. I pray you twist it round that man's arm as hard as you canpull it, and fasten it tightly. I have shorn off his hand, and he wouldvery speedily bleed to death. If you staunch the wound he may last tillhis comrades come back, as they doubtless will after we have left; theywill carry him away and maybe save his life. He is a villainousruffian, no doubt, but 'tis enough for me that I have one death on myhands to-night."
"He is dead already," Albert said, as he leant over the man and placedhis hand on his heart. "He must have been wounded by the travellerbefore we came up."
"Well, it cannot be helped," Edgar replied, as he walked on with hisburden.
"Did you see aught, kind sirs," their companion said, "of a servitorwith three horses?"
"Nothing whatever," Albert answered, "though methought I heard horses'hoofs going down the road as we ran along; but I paid small attentionto them, thinking only of arriving in time to save someone from beingmaltreated."
"I believe that he was in league with the robbers," the man said."But," and his voice faltered, "give me your arm, I pray you. My woundis deeper than I thought, and my head swims."
Albert with difficulty assisted the man to the entrance of thehostelry, for at each step he leant more heavily upon him. The door wasshut, but the light from the casement showed that those within had notyet retired to bed. Edgar struck on the door loudly with the handle ofhis dagger.
"Who is it that knocks?"
"Gentlemen, with a wounded man, who, with his daughter, have been besetby knaves within a hundred yards of your door."
Some bolts were undrawn after some little delay, and a man appeared,having a sword in his hand, with two servitors behind him similarlyarmed.
"We are quiet people, my host," Edgar said. "Stand not on questioning.Suffice that there is a wounded man who is spent from loss of blood,and a young maid who has swooned from terror."
There was a tone of command in Edgar's voice, and the host, seeing thathe had to do with persons of quality, murmured excuses on the groundthat the neighbourhood was a rough one.
"You need hardly have told us that," Edgar said. "Our plight speaks foritself. Call your wife, I pray you, or female servants; they will knowwhat to do to bring the young maid to herself. But tell her to let thegirl know as soon as she opens her eyes that her father is alive, andis, I trust, not seriously wounded."
The landlord called, and a buxom woman came out from a room behind. Herhusband hastily told her what was required.
"Carry her in here, sir, I pray you," the woman said. "I will speedilybring her round."
Edgar followed her into the room that she had left, which was akitchen, and laid her down on a settle. Two maids who were standingthere uttered exclamations of surprise and pity as the girl was carriedin.
"Hold your tongues, wenches, and do not make a noise! Margaret, fetchme cold water, and do you, Elizabeth, help me to unlace the younglady's bodice," for the light in the kitchen enabled her to see at oncethat the girl was well dressed.
As soon as Edgar had laid her down, he hurried out of the kitchen,moving his arm uneasily as he did so, having discovered to his surprisethat the weight of an insensible girl, though but some fourteen yearsold, was much more than he had dreamt of. In a parlour in front hefound Albert and the landlord cutting off the doublet of the woundedman, so as to get at his shoulder, where a great patch of blood showedthe location of the wound. He was some forty years old; his dress wasquiet but of good quality, and Edgar judged him to be a London trader.His face was very white, but he was perfectly sensible. One of theservitors ran in with a cup of wine. The wounded man was able to liftit to his lips and to empty it at a draught.
"That is better!" he murmured, and then he did not speak again untilthe landlord, with considerable skill, bandaged up the shoulder.
"You have had a narrow escape," he said. "There is a sword-thrust justbelow your collar-bone. An inch or two lower and it would have gonehard with you; a little more to the left and it would have pierced yourthroat."
"It was a dagger wound," the man said. "I was knocked down by a blowfrom a sword which fell full on my head, but luckily I had iron hoopsin my cap. One man knelt upon me, and endeavoured to strike me throughthe throat. I fought so hard that one of his comrades came to hisassistance, and I thought that the end had come, when he sprungsuddenly up. The other attempted more furiously than before to finishme, but striking almost blindly he twice missed me altogether, and thethird time, by a sudden twist, I took a blow on my shoulder that wouldotherwise have pierced my throat. When he raised his dagger againsomething flashed. I saw his hand with the dagger he held in it dropoff, and then the man himself fell on me, and I was like to be stifledwith his weight, when my preserver hauled him off me."
"It were best not to talk further," the landlord said. "I have roomsfortunately vacant, and it were well that you retired at once."
"I will do that as soon as you have given me something to eat,landlord. Anything will do, but I am grievously hungry."
"I have a cold capon in the house," the landlord said.
"You will have to cater for three, for doubtless these gentlemen needsupper as much as I do."
"I thank you, sir, but we are very late already, and our friends willhave become alarmed; therefore, with your leave, we will, as soon as wehear that your daughter has recovered, go on our way."
"That I can tell you at once," the landlady said, entering. "Yourdaughter has recovered, sir, and would come to you, but I begged her towait until my husband had done dressing your wound."
"Then we will say good-night, sir. We will call to-morrow morning tosee how you are getting on," and without waiting for further words,they at once went out and continued their way at a brisk pace.
"Let me congratulate you, Albert," Edgar said, warmly. "In good faithno old soldier could have been cooler than you were. You spoke asquietly as if it were a lesson that you had to finish before startingfor home, instead of a villainous cut-throat to put an end to. What didyou to him?"
"I but laid his cheek open, Edgar, and that at once let out his bloodand his courage, and he ran off bellowing like a bull. He knew naughtof swordsmanship, as I felt directly our blades crossed. I knew that Ihad but to guard a sweeping blow or two, and that I should then find anopening; but you of course did much better, for you killed two of thevillains."
"I did it hastily and with scarce a thought," Edgar said. "My eyecaught the flash of the dagger, and I knew that if the man was to besaved at all there was not a moment to lose; I therefore parried thefirst blow he dealt me, and ran him through with my return. Then I hadjust time to chop the other villain's hand off as he was about torepeat his stroke. The ruffian you wounded caused the other to lookround and pause for a moment. Had it been otherwise the traveller wouldhave been a dead man before I had time to strike. I wonder who thewounded man is? He looked like a London trader. I wonder how he gotinto so sore a plight? But, doubtless, we shall hear in the morning."
The episode had taken only a few minutes, but it was nigh half-pastnine before they reached home.
"What freak is this?" Sir Ralph said, angrily, when they entered. "Yourmother has been anxious about you for the last two hours, and I myselfwas beginning to think that some ill must have befallen you. Why, whathas happened to you, Albert, there is blood on your doublet?"
"'Tis not my own, sir," the lad said, quietly. "I regret that we are solate, but it was scarcely our fault. You told us that we could takeboat at Westminster a
nd row to Richmond. This we did, but the tide wasagainst us coming back, and though the men rowed hard, the Abbey bellwas striking eight as we landed at Westminster; therefore, knowing thatthe city gates would be shut, we had to make a tour round the walls."
"Then, as you say, Albert, you were not to blame in the matter. Butwhat about the blood with which, as I see, Edgar is even more deeplystained than you are? Have you been in a brawl?"
"We have, sir; but here, I am sure, you will not blame us when you knowthe circumstances. As we crossed the road running from AldersgateStreet to the north we heard screams and the clashing of swords;deeming, and as it turned out rightly, that some traveller likeourselves was being attacked by cut-throats, we ran on, and presentlycame up to the spot where four ruffians were attacking a single man whohad with him a young girl, whose screams had first called ourattention, Edgar ran one through the body, smote off the hand ofanother who was endeavouring to stab the fallen traveller, and theother ran away."
"And what was your share of it?" his father asked, sternly.
"His share was an excellent one, Sir Ralph," Edgar said. "Two of theruffians ran at us as we came up. One, who attacked me, was but a poorswordsman, and I ran him through at the first thrust. I then paused amoment to ask Albert if he required aid, and he answered, as quietly ashe is now speaking, 'No, I think that I can manage him.' I had no timeto say more, for I saw that a moment's delay would endanger the life ofthe traveller. Just as I reached him I heard a yell of pain, and knewthat Albert had done his work. That howl saved the traveller's life.The man who was kneeling on him looked round for a moment beforedelivering his blow, which gave me time to smite him across the wrist.The blood you see was caused by dragging him off the traveller."
"By our lady!" Sir Ralph exclaimed, "but you have begun well, lads.That you would do so, Edgar, was a matter beyond doubt, but that Albertshould stand up so well and so coolly in his first fight surprises meindeed. I had no doubt of your courage, lad. 'Tis rare indeed for oneof good blood to lack courage, but had you been nervous and flurriedthe first time you were called upon to play the part of a man, it wouldhave seemed to me but natural; now it gladdens me indeed to know thateven in your first essay you should have thus shown that you possessnerve and coolness as well as courage. Anyone can rush into a fight anddeal blows right and left, but it is far more rare to find one who, inhis very first trial at arms, can keep his head clear, and be able toreply to a question, as Edgar says you did, in a calm and even voice.Now, tell me, who was this man to whose aid you arrived just at thenick of time?"
"He looked like a London trader, father, and was some forty years old;but it was hard to tell, for by the time we got him to the hostelry hewas well-nigh spent and scarce able to crawl along, even with my help."
"He was wounded, then?"
"Stabbed with a dagger, father, just under the collar-bone. He musthave made a stout resistance, for we heard the clashing of swords forsome time as we ran, and when he was struck down he struggled so hardthat in spite of the efforts of two of his assailants they failed toslay him. As soon as his wounds were bandaged we left him to the careof the landlord, and hurried off without thinking to ask his name, orof giving him ours, but we promised to return to see him to-morrowmorning."
"And what became of the daughter?"
"She swooned, sir, when all was over, and Edgar carried her to thehostelry."
"'Tis good. You have both entered well upon the profession of arms, andhave achieved an adventure worthy of knights. Now to bed. Your motherretired long ago, but I know that she will not sleep until she hasheard of your safe return and of this adventure that you have gonethrough."
Highly gratified at the knight's commendation, the lads went up totheir room.
"Putting aside the saving of life," Albert said, "I am right glad thatwe have gone through this adventure. 'Tis true that I had decided uponyielding to my father's wishes and taking up the career of arms, but Ihad grievous doubts as to whether I should not shame myself and him inmy first encounter. I thought of that as I ran forward with you, but assoon as the ruffian advanced against me, I felt with joy that my handwas as steady as when I stood opposite you. It was a good cause inwhich I was to fight, and as soon as our swords crossed I felt howdifferent it was to standing up against you, and that the ruffian knewlittle of sword-play. Twice I saw an opening for a straight thrust, butI had no desire to kill him, and waited until I could slash him acrossthe face, and it needed but a few passes before I saw the opportunity."
When Dame Agatha came down in the morning she tenderly kissed Albert.
"My boy," she said, "I never said aught at the time, when it seemedthat you were never like to grow strong enough to lay lance in rest orwield battle-axe, to show you that I regretted that you were not ableto follow the profession of arms, as those of your race have ever done.I felt that it was hard enough for you, and therefore tried my best toreconcile you to the thought of becoming a priest; but now that allthat has changed, and you have shown that you will be a brave andgallant knight, I can tell you that it gives me as great a joy as itdoes your father. The Church is a high and holy profession, but atpresent, as the preaching of Wickliffe has made manifest toall--although I do not hold with all he says, and deem that he carriesit too far--I feel that until many of these abuses are rectified 'tisnot a profession that I should, had I the choice, wish my son to enter.I am glad, Albert, too, that your sword should have been drawn for thefirst time on behalf of persons attacked by cut-throats, and in savinglife. God bless you, my boy, and give you strength ever so to draw itin defence of the oppressed, and for the honour of your country."
Aline was exuberant in her pleasure. She was fondly attached to herbrother, and that he would be lost to her as a priest had been a sourceof sorrow ever since she had been old enough to understand that itwould be so.
As soon as the morning meal was over, the two lads started for thescene of the previous evening's fight. The road from Aldersgate, withcars rolling in with loads of flour and other provisions, and with manytravellers and foot passengers of all sorts passing along, presented avery different appearance to that which it had worn on the eveningbefore. People were going in and out of the hostelries for theirmorning draught of ale, and all looked bright and cheerful. The day wasfine, and the air brisk. On entering, the landlord at once came up tothem.
"Your friend is in the room where we dressed his wounds, sirs. He isdoing well, and methinks will make a good cure. His daughter is withhim. They have but lately risen, and are breaking their fast. He willbe glad to see you, and was mightily vexed last night that we let youleave without asking your names."
"He was not in a condition for talking last night, what with the lossof blood and the smart of his wound and the suddenness of the affray.'Tis not strange that he should not have thought of it; and indeed weourselves did not ask his name, for we were pressed for time, and hadto hurry away."
It was evident, indeed, as they entered, that things were going wellwith the wounded man, who was talking merrily to his daughter.
"Ah, sirs," he said, rising at once to his feet, "glad indeed am I thatyou have come, and that I can now thank you for the great service yourendered last night to myself and my daughter. First let me know towhom I am indebted for our lives?"
"This gentleman," Edgar said, "is Albert, son of Sir Ralph De Courcy.My name is Edgar Ormskirk. I pray you, speak not of gratitude. We areglad, indeed, to have been able to render service to you and to yourdaughter. We hope some day to become knights, and it is a real pleasureto us to have been able to draw a sword in earnest for the first time,in so good a cause. But, indeed, there is little occasion forglorification, seeing that the fellows were but rough cut-throats, moreaccustomed, I fancy, to the use of the dagger than of the sword."
"Do not belittle the action, Master Ormskirk," the other said,courteously. "It was a brave deed, for, if I may say so, you are butlittle more than boys, to pit yourselves against four rascals of thiskind. There are few in your place woul
d have ventured upon it. Thelandlord tells me that two dead bodies were found this morning, andthey are those of well-known cut-throats and law-breakers, who wouldhave long since been brought to justice, had it not been that there wasno means of proving they were responsible for the many murders thathave been committed during the last few months on peaceful travellersand others. A search has already been made of their haunts, and as itis found that two others who generally consorted with them are missing,and as much blood was found in the hovel they occupied, no doubt one ofthem was severely wounded."
"His cheek was laid open by my friend," Edgar said. "He could haveslain him had he so chosen, but being as yet unused to strife andgentler hearted than I am, he contented himself by slashing his face."
"And did the other two fall to your sword, Mr. Ormskirk?"
"Yes; I saw that you were in sore peril, and so ran one through at thefirst thrust; and then seeing that my friend was well able to hold hisown, came on to your aid. Before I reached you, Albert had struck hisblow, and the howl that the villain gave did more towards the saving ofyour life than my sword, for your assailant paused in the very act ofstriking to see what had befallen his comrade, and therefore gave metime to deliver a blow on his wrist."
"As yet, gentlemen, you do not know my name. I am Robert Gaiton, andbelong to the Guild of Mercers. I carry on trade with Venice and Genoain silk and Eastern goods. This is my daughter Ursula."
The friends bowed, and the girl made a deep reverence. "Ah, sirs," shesaid, "I cannot tell you how grateful I am for your succour. When youcame running up it appeared to me that Heaven had sent two angels tohelp us, when it seemed that naught could save our lives."
"It was your scream, even more than the clashing of swords, thatbrought us to your aid, Madame Ursula."
"Ursula, without the madame," her father said. "She is the daughter ofa plain citizen, and all unused to titles, save from my apprenticeboys."
"I cannot think why the ruffian who held her," Edgar said, "did notstop her screams with a dagger-thrust. He must have been of a muchmilder sort than his comrades."
"It may have been that," the trader said, "but it seems to me morelikely that they intended to carry her off and hold her to ransom. Idare say that you are surprised at my being abroad with my daughter solate, but I believe now that it was a preconcerted plot. It was but tendays before I left London, three weeks since, that I hired a new man.He had papers which showed that he came from Chelmsford, was an honestfellow, and accustomed to the care of horses. I doubt not hiscredentials were stolen. However, I engaged him, seeing that heappeared just the man I wanted. We journeyed down to Norwich withoutadventure. There I settled my business with some traders whom I supplywith goods, and then journeyed back, stopping always at towns andalways before nightfall, as I had a considerable amount of money in mysaddle-bags.
"All went well until we started for town yesterday morning. I wasdetained somewhat late on business, and then instead of finding thehorses ready as I had ordered, it was nigh half an hour before theywere brought round. We had not ridden very far when my horse fell deadlame, and I had to mount my servant's horse and let him lead the other,and it took us two hours to go five miles into St. Albans. As we went,I thought that, putting the first delay with the horse falling lame,this might be a plot to keep me from reaching London before the gateswere shut, and while the horse's shoe was being taken off I slipped thebags of gold into my pouch, and going into the hostelry to getrefreshments for Ursula and myself, I handed them to the host, andbegged him to hold them for me until I sent for them. I further askedhim to give me other bags of the same size, for I doubted not that myservant was in alliance with these thieves. He had doubtless observedme take the bags out, and I was the more confirmed in my suspicions asI noticed how he watched me when I mounted again.
"'What ailed the horse?' I asked the farrier.
"'Either the horse has picked up a nail on the road, master, or belikesome knave has driven one in.'
"Then we rode on. I still hoped to pass the gates before they wereclosed, but the horse went lamely, and we were three miles away when Iheard the city bells strike the hour. Still I hoped that they mightopen the gate for me when I gave my name, which is indifferently wellknown in the city, but the men at the gate were ignorant of it, andsaid that without an order from the lord mayor or one of the sheriffsthey could open the gate to no man, for that since the country troubleshad began, the orders were most strict. It happened that I had not beenout through Aldersgate for two years past, but I had heard that anhostelry had been built for the accommodation of travellers who hadarrived too late to pass the gates, or others who preferred to sojournoutside the walls. I knew not its position, and asking my knave whereit was he said that he knew not.
"We then rode back. Presently I saw two men standing at the corner ofthat street where we were attacked. I said to them, 'Where is theKing's Head hostelry?' ''Tis but a house or two down here,' one of themsaid. 'The stables are a short way along this road. My comrade willshow your man the way.' 'We may as well alight here, Ursula,' I said.It had been a long ride for her, and she was tired with sitting so longon the pillion behind me. ''Tis but three houses down; we may as wellwalk that distance. Reuben, do you bring round the valises when youhave seen the horses stabled and attended to.' I jumped down and liftedUrsula off the horse, and went down the street. I had gone but a shortdistance when I saw that the locality was scarcely one where a man ofsense would build a hostelry.
"'Which is the house?' I asked, sharply. 'The very next door,' the mansaid. I had stupidly forgotten the suspicions that had been roused atthe commencement of the day, and I stepped on. 'This is no hostelry,' Isaid, when I got to the house. In reply he gave a short whistle, andthree fellows, who had been hiding in the shadow of a doorway opposite,ran out, sword in hand. Seeing that I had been trapped, I pushed Ursulainto the doorway and stood on my guard. For a short time I kept them atbay, Ursula screaming wildly the while. Then two of them rushedtogether at me. One struck down my guard, and then smote me on thehead, and with such force, that, although the steel lining to my bonnetsaved me from being killed, it brought me to the ground. Then, as Itold you, one of the fellows threw himself upon me and tried to stabme, but, although confused with the blow, I had still my senses, andstruggled with him fiercely, grasping his wrist.
"Then the second one came to his aid, and with a blow from the pommelof his sword numbed my hand, and forced me to quit my hold. Then theother made three stabs at me, a third wounded me slightly, and togetherthey would have finished me had you not come up. My horses were foundon the road this morning, with the valises cut open. It must have beena rare disappointment to the rascals, for, save a suit of mine and somegarments of my daughter's, there was naught in them. I should like tohave seen the villain's face when he opened the money bags and foundthe trick that I had played him. He had best never show his face inLondon, for if I catch him he will dance at the end of a rope. And now,sirs, with your permission, I will repair to my home, for my woundsmarts sorely, and I must have it dressed by a leech, who will pour insome unguents to allay the pain. My wife, too, will be growing anxious,for I had written to her that we should return last night, and it isnot often that I do not keep tryst. I pray you, gentlemen, do me thehonour of calling at my house to-morrow at noon and partaking of a mealwith us. I shall, of course, as soon as the leech gives me permission,wait upon Sir Ralph De Courcy to thank him for the service you haverendered me. I pray you to give me his address."
The invitation was cordially accepted, and, having given him directionsby which their lodgings could be found, the two friends took theirleave and returned home.