by G. A. Henty
“I should say, my lord, that I must go on the watch as before. It is most likely that the Norman will, sooner or later, go out in the same disguise and by the same way as before, and that the hour will be between seven and nine in the evening—most likely between seven and eight, in order that he may return from the meeting before the bishop’s doors are closed for the night.”
“I will keep watch with you, Ulf. Were I sure that the meeting would take place at the same spot as before you should show me where they landed, and I would lie down there in readiness, but as they may meet elsewhere, it seems to me that I must post myself by your side.”
“It would be better, my lord, if you would take your place on the other side of the open space, for although I, being small, can escape notice, you might well be seen by those approaching the door. It will be necessary, too, that you should put on sandals of soft leather or cloth, so that your footfall should not be heard. Then, as I follow him, I would run to where you are posted, and you could follow me, so that you could keep me in sight and yet be beyond his view, for all our plans would be foiled should he suspect that he was being followed.”
“I will do as you advise. Come with me now and we will fix upon a station to night, and afterwards you may be sure of finding me there between half-past six and ten. Should you wish to see me at any other time you will find me at the palace; I will not stir out between eight and nine in the morning. I must say I wish it were warmer weather, for a watch of three hours with the snow on the ground—and it is beginning to fall now—is not so pleasant a way of spending the evening as I had looked for when I came hither.”
Beorn went out with Ulf, and they fixed upon a doorway some twenty yards from the street down which the Norman had before gone.
“We must hope he will go by the same way,” Beorn said, “for should he turn to the right or left after issuing from the gate he will have gone so far before you can run across and fetch me that we may well fail to pick up his track again. It were well if we could arrange some signal by which you would let me know should he so turn off. It would not do for you to call or whistle.”
“No, my lord; but I could howl like a dog. He would but think it some cur lying under the wall I might howl once if he turns to the right, twice if he turns to the left, and you could then cross the ground in that direction, and I could meet you on the way without losing sight of him for long.”
“That would do well, Ulf, if you are sure you could imitate the howl of a dog so nearly that he would not suspect it.”
“I can do that,” Ulf said confidently. “I have used the signal before with my comrades, and to make sure will go out to the fields and practise daily.”
A month passed. Harold was still away in the North, and complete success was attending his journey. The influence of Bishop Wulfstan, who was greatly respected throughout the kingdom, did much, but Harold himself did more. His noble presence, his courtesy to all, the assurances he gave of his desire that all men should be well and justly ruled, that evil-doers of whatever rank should be punished, that there should be no oppression and no exaction of taxes beyond those borne by the whole community, won the hearts of the people. They were, moreover, gratified by the confidence that he had shown in coming among them, and in seeing for the first time in the memory of man a monarch of England in Northumbria.
Ulf and Beorn had kept regular watch, but without success, and Ulf’s comrades had as steadily watched the other entrances. Beorn had two or three conferences with Ulf. He was becoming impatient at the long delay, though he acknowledged that it was possible it had been arranged that no more meetings should take place until it was known that Harold was about to return. The armourer was perhaps the most impatient of the three. He was doing nothing, and his anxiety made him so irritable and captious at his work that his men wondered what had come over their master. After fretting for three weeks over his own inaction, he one morning told Ulf to go to Beorn and say that he begged to have speech with him. An hour later Beorn returned with Ulf.
“I bethought me last night, my lord,” Ulred said, “while I lay awake wondering over the matter, whether these fellows are still on board ship or are in lodgings in London.”
“It might be either, Ulred. I have frequently thought over the matter. Possibly they may have stayed on board their ship till she left, and then have come on shore in the guise of peaceful traders.”
“If the ship did not return at once they may still be on board,” the armourer said, “for the wind has blown steadily from the east for the last five weeks, and no ships have been able to leave the port. I blame myself sorely that I did not think of it before, but at least I will lose no time now if you think that good might come of it.”
“It would certainly be good if you could find either the ship or the house where the men are in lodging, but seeing that you know nothing of their appearance or number, nor the name of the ship in which they came nor the port she sailed from, I see not how you could set about it.”
“I will first go to the port-reeve’s office and find out the names of the ships that arrived just before the time that the meeting by the river took place. She may have come in early that day, or on the day before. They would surely send word at once to him that they had arrived.”
“You might learn something that way, Ulred, but we do not know that the meeting Ulf saw was their first.”
“That is true. But as Ulf’s friend declares that he certainly had not gone out that way during the evenings that he had been keeping watch, it is likely that it was their first meeting.”
“That is so, Ulred; and at any rate it would be well that you should make the inquiries, and that, while we are keeping our watch as before, you should try to gather some tidings of the fellows in another way.”
CHAPTER XVI
A VOYAGE NORTH
The armourer found without any difficulty that twenty-five vessels, exclusive of small coasters, had arrived in the port during the thirty-six hours previous to the time of the meeting on the bank. Of these, eighteen were from English ports, seven from Normandy, France, or Flanders. Three of the latter had sailed away, and of the four remaining in the port two were from Rouen, one from Calais, and one from Flanders. Having obtained the names of these, he took boat and rowed down the river and ascertained where each lay at anchor. He then, with the assistance of some citizens of standing of his acquaintance, obtained a view of the manifests of their cargoes. The Flemish vessel carried cloth, the other three miscellaneous cargoes—wine, dried fish, cloth, and other goods.
The Flemish vessel was the largest, those from Rouen and Calais were about the same size. All had discharged their cargoes, and were waiting for a change of wind to drop down the river. There was nothing unusual to be observed on any of the ships. The men were for the most part down in the forecastle, for the weather was too severe for them to lounge about on deck. He talked the matter over with Beorn, and they agreed that it was most probable that the men would embark from Calais rather than Rouen. It was a far shorter and less perilous voyage, and moreover, as Frenchmen they could move about without attracting attention, while as Normans they would be viewed with a certain amount of hostility and suspicion.
“I will make it my business to watch that vessel. I know not whether any good can come of it, but I would fain be doing something. If the wind changes she will doubtless proceed to sea, and if they are still on board of her they will come ashore, and I could see their numbers and where they put up.”
“That will indeed be important,” Beorn said, “for we should then have two places to watch, and should be almost certain to get to the root of the matter. But how will you watch her?”
“There are many houses near the water’s edge, on the southern side of the river near which the ship is lying, she having moved away from the quays when she discharged her cargo. I will hire a room in one of these, and will there pass as much of my time as I can; and I will take with me my apprentice Ernulf, whom I shall bid keep his eye upo
n the ship whenever I myself am away. I need say nothing whatever of the reason of my desire that I should be acquainted with everything that passes on board.”
Ulred succeeded in getting a room exactly opposite the French vessel, and sitting back from the window, was able, himself unseen, to notice everything that passed on board the ship, which lay scarce her own length from the shore. Upon the third day a boat containing a man wearing an ample cloak with a hood, which was pulled far over his face, rowed up to the side of the ship, and climbed up right nimbly into her waist.
“It is a Saxon cloak,” the armourer said to himself, “but those are Norman leggings. The man is tall, and the quickness with which he climbed over shows that he is young. I doubt not that it is our man. I would give a year’s profits of the forge to be hidden down below at present. However, it is much to have learnt that this is really the ship, and that the Norman’s friends are still on board. I would that Wulf were in London. He has a keen wit, and would hit on some plan by which we might get to the bottom of the matter. Beorn is a brave young thane, and were Wulf here would second him valiantly, but he has none of the other’s quickness of thought. As soon as this fellow leaves the ship I will hurry back to take counsel with him, and hear what the boy Ulf, who is a marvellously shrewd little knave, may think of the matter.”
Half an hour later the boat put off again; a man came to the side with the visitor and retired below as soon as he left the ship. Ulred at once hurried off, hailed a boat a short distance higher up and was rowed to Westminster. As soon as he gained the house he despatched Ulf to Beorn. The latter listened to the discovery that had been made, and then asked the armourer what he advised should be done.
“That is just what I am at a loss about, my lord. Doubtless were we to go to the city and tell the port-reeve that there are men on that craft who have designs against the king’s life, he would pounce upon them and throw them into jail. But we have no evidence to give in support of the charge.”
Beorn nodded his head in agreement. “If I had half a dozen of my own men here,” he said hotly, “I would go down in a boat after nightfall, seize the vessel, and put all on board to the sword.”
“That would hardly do, my lord,” the armourer said gravely. “On the high sea doubtless the thing might be done, but here in the port of London it would be a desperate undertaking, especially as we have nought that in the eyes of the law would in any way justify such action.”
“Well, let us have your own advice, then,” Beorn said impatiently. “You think they cannot be arrested and they may not be slain. What do you counsel shall be done!”
“I see nought to do but to continue to wait and to watch. We are better off than we were before, inasmuch as we know where these men are.”
“Yes, but we do not know where they will be tomorrow, for we know nothing of what passed between Fitz-Urse and them; doubtless some settlement of their plans has been come to. They may land or may sail away, for methinks from the look of the sky there is like to be a change in the weather. You see, the Norman may have taken them news that Harold will soon be on his way back, for indeed a message arrived from him this morning with news that all things had been well-nigh settled, and that he will shortly make for York, where he is to wed the sister of the Northern earls. It may be that the ship may be bound thither also. You left your apprentice on the watch, I suppose?”
“Yes, I bade him keep his eye on the ship, and should any men leave her he is to follow on their track and mark their movements.”
“At any rate there can be little need for me to watch this evening,” Beorn said. “As Fitz-Urse has seen the others today he cannot want to meet them tonight.”
“No, that is certain,” the armourer agreed; “but with your permission I will call Ulf in. I told him before I sent him to you what I had observed. Are you going to watch again this evening, boy?” he asked when Ulf entered. “Methinks there can be little chance of his going out again tonight.”
“I shall keep even a stricter watch than usual, master,” Ulf said, “for it may be that the agreement at which they arrived today is that they sail north, and in that case Walter Fitz-Urse may go on board the ship, and hide there until the wind changes and they can get up sail.”
“I think the boy is right, my lord. In a dark matter like this, where we know so little, it behoves us to provide for every chance. But I think not that there can be any need for you to be on watch, for it can hardly be that they will hold another consultation on the river bank.”
Ulf returned soon after ten o’clock. “He has not gone out by my gate, master, but I find that my comrade is missing. When I went round as usual to the other entrance he was not there.”
“Perhaps he was tired and went home.”
“No, indeed,” the boy replied indignantly; “he has sworn to do what I told him, and he knows that it would be bad for him if he broke his word; besides, we are sworn comrades. He has never before failed me, and I cannot but think that he must have seen the man go out and followed him. I instructed him that if at any time he saw a man like the one we are looking for he was to follow him wherever he went, and to bring me word whether he met anyone and whether he returned to the palace or went into any house. If he did so he was to make a small mark on the door-post with chalk, so that in the morning he would be able to point it out with surety. I will sit at my window and watch, and I warrant it will not be long before he is here.”
Half an hour later Ulf heard steps rapidly approaching; then a low whistle. He put his head out of the window.
“What is the news, Edwyn?”
“A man came out in a cloak. He was tall. I followed him and heard a sword clink under the cloak, and so felt sure it was the man we have been looking for. I stole after him. He went straight down to the river and gave two short calls. A boat was rowed up. Only a word or two was spoken, and then he took his seat in it, and it was rowed away down the river.”
“You have done well, comrade,” Ulf said. “I warrant that some good will come to us through your discovery. Good-night.”
Ulf went and knocked at his master’s door, and on Ulred opening it he told him the news.
“I will go down right early,” the armourer said.
“It is beginning to rain, master. The frost has broken, and the wind is soft and warm.”
“So much the worse, boy. I will be up at daylight, and you shall go down the river with me. I may want to send you back with a message to Beorn.”
Next morning they had rowed near to London Bridge when they saw a boat approaching. The day had broken, but the light was still uncertain. As the boat approached, however, Ulf said: “There is a boy in the boat, master, and he wears an apprentice’s cap. Maybe that it is Ernulf.” The other boat was keeping close inshore, for the tide had begun to run down. The armourer told the boatman to row closer in, and presently called the boy’s name.
“Yes, master, it is I; I was just coming to you with news.”
In a couple of minutes the boats were alongside of each other. “What is your news, Ernulf? But I can guess; the ship has sailed.”
“Yes, master; I lay down by the open window, and an hour before day broke I was aroused by the creaking of ropes, and looking out could see that the ship was getting up sail. Tide was then just on the turn, and five minutes later her sails were spread and she went down the river. I came off to tell you, but was some time before I could get a boat.”
“Come on board here, Ernulf,” the armourer said, “your message has saved us further journey.” He then paid off the lad’s boatman, and with his two apprentices returned to Westminster. “Beorn will be up by this time, Ulf. You had best go and tell him the news. I will come with you to save time, though I see not that there is aught to be done.”
The thane at once came out and chatted for some time with Ulred, while Ulf stood by, cap in hand. “It is certain that something should be done, and yet I see not what it can be. What think you, boy? I see by your eyes that you would fain speak.
”
“I should say, my lord, that it would be a good thing if we could discover whether the Norman is still at the bishop’s palace. He may have returned early this morning.”
“That can easily be done,” Beorn said. “I will send my man to the bishop’s and bid him ask one of the servants if Walter Fitz-Urse is in. He need not say that he comes from me, only that he has a message to deliver. If the servant says he is there I will bid my fellow slip away when the man goes to fetch him down. Supposing he has gone, as I should think he has done, what then?”
“Then, my lord, I think there is more danger than if the Norman remained here. It may be that the Normans have returned to France and abandoned any plans they may have entertained. But it seems to me far more likely that they have gone north to carry out the enterprise.”
“Whither, think you, will they be bound, Ulf?”
“I should say to the Humber, my lord. They may on landing proceed to York, or, if they have really designs against the king’s life, may take post somewhere on the road down from that city.”
“By my faith the boy is right,” Beorn said. “What say you, master armourer?”
“I say the same, my lord. The villains have slipped through our fingers, and we can do nought to stay them. It seems to me that not an hour should be lost in sending a warning to the Thane of Steyning.”
“I will mount myself and ride north,” Beorn said.
“And I, my lord, will at once go down to the port and inquire if there be a ship sailing today for the Humber. Scarce a day passes that one or more do not start for the northern ports. Yes, Ulf, I shall take you with me. You are charged with this business by the Thane of Steyning, and I am but aiding you in it. I will go straight away to the city, my lord, and if a ship be sailing—and after so long a bout of east wind it is like that many will be doing so—I will be back in an hour with the news. Maybe I can find a quick sailer, and shall be at one of the ports in the Humber before the craft that left this morning.”