CHAPTER XI.
HOW A YOUNG SHEPHERD HAD A PERILOUS FLOCK.
Black was the mouth of Twynham Castle, though a pair of torches
burning at the further end of the gateway cast a red glare over
the outer bailey, and sent a dim, ruddy flicker through the
rough-hewn arch, rising and falling with fitful brightness. Over
the door the travellers could discern the escutcheon of the
Montacutes, a roebuck gules on a field argent, flanked on either
side by smaller shields which bore the red roses of the veteran
constable. As they passed over the drawbridge, Alleyne marked
the gleam of arms in the embrasures to right and left, and they
had scarce set foot upon the causeway ere a hoarse blare burst
from a bugle, and, with screech of hinge and clank of chain, the
ponderous bridge swung up into the air, drawn by unseen hands.
At the same instant the huge portcullis came rattling down from
above, and shut off the last fading light of day. Sir Nigel and
his lady walked on in deep talk, while a fat under-steward took
charge of the three comrades, and led them to the buttery, where
beef, bread, and beer were kept ever in readiness for the
wayfarer. After a hearty meal and a dip in the trough to wash
the dust from them, they strolled forth into the bailey, where
the bowman peered about through the darkness at wall and at keep,
with the carping eyes of one who has seen something of sieges,
and is not likely to be satisfied. To Alleyne and to John,
however, it appeared to be as great and as stout a fortress as
could be built by the hands of man.
Erected by Sir Balwin de Redvers in the old fighting days of the
twelfth century, when men thought much of war and little of
comfort, Castle Twynham had been designed as a stronghold pure
and simple, unlike those later and more magnificent structures
where warlike strength had been combined with the magnificence of
a palace. From the time of the Edwards such buildings as Conway
or Caernarvon castles, to say nothing of Royal Windsor, had shown
that it was possible to secure luxury in peace as well as
security in times of trouble. Sir Nigel's trust, however, still
frowned above the smooth-flowing waters of the Avon, very much as
the stern race of early Anglo-Normans had designed it. There
were the broad outer and inner bailies, not paved, but sown with
grass to nourish the sheep and cattle which might be driven in on
sign of danger. All round were high and turreted walls, with at
the corner a bare square-faced keep, gaunt and windowless,
rearing up from a lofty mound, which made it almost inaccessible
to an assailant. Against the bailey-walls were rows of frail
wooden houses and leaning sheds, which gave shelter to the
archers and men-at-arms who formed the garrison. The doors of
these humble dwellings were mostly open, and against the yellow
glare from within Alleyne could see the bearded fellows cleaning
their harness, while their wives would come out for a gossip,
with their needlework in their hands, and their long black
shadows streaming across the yard. The air was full of the clack
of their voices and the merry prattling of children, in strange
contrast to the flash of arms and constant warlike challenge from
the walls above.
"Methinks a company of school lads could hold this place against
an army," quoth John.
"And so say I," said Alleyne.
"Nay, there you are wide of the clout," the bowman said gravely.
"By my hilt! I have seen a stronger fortalice carried in a summer
evening. I remember such a one in Picardy, with a name as long
as a Gascon's pedigree. It was when I served under Sir Robert
Knolles, before the days of the Company; and we came by good
plunder at the sacking of it. I had myself a great silver bowl,
with two goblets, and a plastron of Spanish steel. Pasques Dieu!
there are some fine women over yonder! Mort de ma vie! see to
that one in the doorway! I will go speak to her. But whom have
we here?"
"Is there an archer here hight Sam Aylward?" asked a gaunt
man-at-arms, clanking up to them across the courtyard.
"My name, friend," quoth the bowman.
"Then sure I have no need to tell thee mine," said the other.
"By the rood! if it is not Black Simon of Norwich!" cried
Aylward. "A mon coeur, camarade, a mon coeur! Ah, but I am
blithe to see thee!" The two fell upon each other and hugged
like bears.
"And where from, old blood and bones?" asked the bowman.
"I am in service here. Tell me, comrade, is it sooth that we
shall have another fling at these Frenchmen? It is so rumored in
the guard-room, and that Sir Nigel will take the field once
more."
"It is like enough, mon gar., as things go."
"Now may the Lord be praised!" cried the other. "This very night
will I set apart a golden ouche to be offered on the shrine of my
name-saint. I have pined for this, Aylward, as a young maid
pines for her lover."
"Art so set on plunder then? Is the purse so light that there is
not enough for a rouse? I have a bag at my belt, camarade, and
you have but to put your fist into it for what you want. It was
ever share and share between us."
"Nay, friend, it is not the Frenchman's gold, but the Frenchman's
blood that I would have. I should not rest quiet in the grave,
coz, if I had not another turn at them. For with us in France it
has ever been fair and honest war--a shut fist for the man, but a
bended knee for the woman. But how was it at Winchelsea when
their galleys came down upon it some few years back? I had an
old mother there, lad, who had come down thither from the
Midlands to be the nearer her son. They found her afterwards by
her own hearthstone, thrust through by a Frenchman's bill. My
second sister, my brother's wife, and her two children, they
were but ash-heaps in the smoking ruins of their house. I will
not say that we have not wrought great scath upon France, but
women and children have been safe from us. And so, old friend,
my heart is hot within me, and I long to hear the old battle-cry
again, and, by God's truth I if Sir Nigel unfurls his pennon,
here is one who will be right glad to feel the saddle-flaps under
his knees."
"We have seen good work together, old war-dog," quoth Aylward;
"and, by my hilt! we may hope to see more ere we die. But we are
more like to hawk at the Spanish woodcock than at the French
heron, though certes it is rumored that Du Guesclin with all the
best lances of France have taken service under the lions and
towers of Castile. But, comrade, it is in my mind that there is
some small matter of dispute still open between us."
"'Fore God, it is sooth!" cried the other; "I had forgot it.
The provost-marshal and his men tore us apart when last we met."
"On which, friend, we vowed that we should settle the point when
next we came together. Hast thy sword, I see, and the moon
throws glimmer enough for such old night-birds as we. On guard,
mon gar.! I have not heard clink of steel this month or more."
"Out from the shadow then," said the other, drawing his sword.
"A vow is a vow, and not lightly to be broken."
"A vow to the saints," cried Alleyne, "is indeed not to be set
aside; but this is a devil's vow, and, simple clerk as I am, I am
yet the mouthpiece of the true church when I say that it were
mortal sin to fight on such a quarrel. What! shall two grown men
carry malice for years, and fly like snarling curs at each
other's throats?"
"No malice, my young clerk, no malice," quoth Black Simon, "I
have not a bitter drop in my heart for mine old comrade; but the
quarrel, as he hath told you, is still open and unsettled. Fall
on, Aylward!"
"Not whilst I can stand between you," cried Alleyne, springing
before the bowman. "It is shame and sin to see two Christian
Englishmen turn swords against each other like the frenzied
bloodthirsty paynim."
"And, what is more," said Hordle John, suddenly appearing out of
the buttery with the huge board upon which the pastry was rolled,
"if either raise sword I shall flatten him like a Shrovetide
pancake. By the black rood! I shall drive him into the earth,
like a nail into a door, rather than see you do scath to each
other."
"'Fore God, this is a strange way of preaching peace," cried
Black Simon. "You may find the scath yourself, my lusty friend,
if you raise your great cudgel to me. I had as lief have the
castle drawbridge drop upon my pate."
"Tell me, Aylward," said Alleyne earnestly, with his hands
outstretched to keep the pair asunder, "what is the cause of
quarrel, that we may see whether honorable settlement may not be
arrived at?"
The bowman looked down at his feet and then up at the moons
"Parbleu!" he cried, "the cause of quarrel? Why, mon petit, it
was years ago in Limousin, and how can I bear in mind what was
the cause of it? Simon there hath it at the end of his tongue."
"Not I, in troth," replied the other; "I have had other things to
think of. There was some sort of bickering over dice, or wine,
or was it a woman, coz?"
"Pasques Dieu! but you have nicked it," cried Aylward. "It was
indeed about a woman; and the quarrel must go forward, for I am
still of the same mind as before."
"What of the woman, then?" asked Simon. "May the murrain strike
me if I can call to mind aught about her."
"It was La Blanche Rose, maid at the sign of the `Trois Corbeaux'
at Limoges. Bless her pretty heart! Why, mon gar., I loved
her."
"So did a many," quoth Simon. "I call her to mind now. On the
very day that we fought over the little hussy, she went off with
Evan ap Price, a long-legged Welsh dagsman. They have a hostel
of their own now, somewhere on the banks of the Garonne, where
the landlord drinks so much of the liquor that there is little
left for the customers."
"So ends our quarrel, then," said Aylward, sheathing his sword.
"A Welsh dagsman, i' faith! C'etait mauvais gout, camarade, and
the more so when she had a jolly archer and a lusty man-at-arms
to choose from."
"True, old lad. And it is as well that we can compose our
differences honorably, for Sir Nigel had been out at the first
clash of steel; and he hath sworn that if there be quarrelling in
the garrison he would smite the right hand from the broilers.
You know him of old, and that he is like to be as good as his
word."
"Mort-Dieu! yes. But there are ale, mead, and wine in the
buttery, and the steward a merry rogue, who will not haggle over
a quart or two. Buvons, mon gar., for it is not every day that
two old friends come together."
The old soldiers and Hordle John strode off together in all good
fellowship. Alleyne had turned to follow them, when he felt a
touch upon his shoulder, and found a young page by his side.
"The Lord Loring commands," said the boy, "that you will follow
me to the great chamber, and await him there."
"But my comrades?"
"His commands were for you alone."
Alleyne followed the messenger to the east end of the courtyard,
where a broad flight of steps led up to the doorway of the main
hall, the outer wall of which is washed by the waters of the
Avon. As designed at first, no dwelling had been allotted to the
lord of the castle and his family but the dark and dismal
basement story of the keep. A more civilized or more effeminate
generation, however, had refused to be pent up in such a cellar,
and the hall with its neighboring chambers had been added for
their accommodation. Up the broad steps Alleyne went, still
following his boyish guide, until at the folding oak doors the
latter paused, and ushered him into the main hall of the castle.
On entering the room the clerk looked round; but, seeing no one,
he continued to stand, his cap in his hand, examining with the
greatest interest a chamber which was so different to any to
which he was accustomed. The days had gone by when a nobleman's
hall was but a barn-like, rush-strewn enclosure, the common
lounge and eating-room of every inmate of the castle. The
Crusaders had brought back with them experiences of domestic
luxuries, of Damascus carpets and rugs of Aleppo, which made them
impatient of the hideous bareness and want of privacy which they
found in their ancestral strongholds. Still stronger, however,
had been the influence of the great French war; for, however well
matched the nations might be in martial exercises, there could be
no question but that our neighbors were infinitely superior to us
in the arts of peace. A stream of returning knights, of wounded
soldiers, and of unransomed French noblemen, had been for a
quarter of a century continually pouring into England, every one
of whom exerted an influence in the direction of greater domestic
refinement, while shiploads of French furniture from Calais,
Rouen, and other plundered towns, had supplied our own artisans
with models on which to shape their work. Hence, in most English
castles, and in Castle Twynham among the rest, chambers were to
be found which would seem to be not wanting either in beauty or
in comfort.
In the great stone fireplace a log fire was spurting and
crackling, throwing out a ruddy glare which, with the four
bracket-lamps which stood at each corner of the room, gave a
bright and lightsome air to the whole apartment. Above was a
wreath-work of blazonry, extending up to the carved and corniced
oaken roof; while on either side stood the high canopied chairs
placed for the master of the house and for his most honored
guest. The walls were hung all round with most elaborate and
brightly colored tapestry, representing the achievements of Sir
Bevis of Hampton, and behind this convenient screen were stored
the tables dormant and benches which would be needed for banquet
or high festivity. The floor was of polished tiles, with a
square of red and black diapered Flemish carpet in the centre;
and many settees, cushions, folding chairs, and carved bancals
littered all over it. At the further end was a long black buffet
or dresser, thickly covered with gold cups, silver salvers, and
other such valuables. All this Alleyne examined with curious
eyes; but most interesting of all to him was a small ebony table
at his very side, on which, by the side of a chess-board and the
scattered chessmen, there lay an open manuscript written in a
right clerkly hand, and set forth with brave flourishes and
devices along the margins. In vain Alleyne bethought him of
where he was, and of those laws of good breeding and decorum
which should restrain him: those colored capitals and black even
lines drew his hand down to them, as the loadstone draws the
needle, until, almost before he knew it, he was standing with the
romance of Garin de Montglane before his eyes, so absorbed in its
contents as to be completely oblivious both of where he was and
why he had come there.
He was brought back to himself, however, by a sudden little
ripple of quick feminine laughter. Aghast, he dropped the
manuscript among the chessmen and stared in bewilderment round
the room. It was as empty and as still as ever. Again he
stretched his hand out to the romance, and again came that
roguish burst of merriment. He looked up at the ceiling, back at
the closed door, and round at the stiff folds of motionless
tapestry. Of a sudden, however, he caught a quick shimmer from
the corner of a high-backed bancal in front of him, and, shifting
a pace or two to the side, saw a white slender hand, which held a
mirror of polished silver in such a way that the concealed
observer could see without being seen. He stood irresolute,
uncertain whether to advance or to take no notice; but, even as
he hesitated, the mirror was whipped in, and a tall and stately
young lady swept out from behind the oaken screen, with a dancing
light of mischief in her eyes. Alleyne started with astonishment
as he recognized the very maiden who had suffered from his
brother's violence in the forest. She no longer wore her gay
riding-dress, however, but was attired in a long sweeping robe of
black velvet of Bruges, with delicate tracery of white lace at
neck and at wrist, scarce to be seen against her ivory skin.
Beautiful as she had seemed to him before, the lithe charm of her
figure and the proud, free grace of her bearing were enhanced now
by the rich simplicity of her attire.
"Ah, you start," said she, with the same sidelong look of
mischief, "and I cannot marvel at it. Didst not look to see the
distressed damosel again. Oh that I were a minstrel, that I
might put it into rhyme, with the whole romance--the luckless
maid, the wicked socman, and the virtuous clerk! So might our
fame have gone down together for all time, and you be numbered
with Sir Percival or Sir Galahad, or all the other rescuers of
oppressed ladies."
"What I did," said Alleyne, "was too small a thing for thanks;
and yet, if I may say it without offence, it was too grave and
near a matter for mirth and raillery. I had counted on my
brother's love, but God has willed that it should be otherwise.
It is a joy to me to see you again, lady, and to know that you
have reached home in safety, if this be indeed your home."
"Yes, in sooth, Castle Twynham is my home, and Sir Nigel Loring
my father, I should have told you so this morning, but you said
that you were coming thither, so I bethought me that I might hold
it back as a surprise to you. Oh dear, but it was brave to see
you!" she cried, bursting out a-laughing once more, and standing
with her hand pressed to her side, and her half-closed eyes
twinkling with amusement. "You drew back and came forward with
your eyes upon my book there, like the mouse who sniffs the
cheese and yet dreads the trap."
"I take shame," said Alleyne, "that I should have touched it."
"Nay, it warmed my very heart to see it. So glad was I, that I
laughed for very pleasure. My fine preacher can himself be
tempted then, thought I; he is not made of another clay to the
rest of us."
"God help me! I am the weakest of the weak," groaned Alleyne.
"I pray that I may have more strength."
"And to what end?" she asked sharply. "If you are, as I
understand, to shut yourself forever in your cell within the four
walls of an abbey, then of what use would it be were your prayer
to be answered?"
"The use of my own salvation."
She turned from him with a pretty shrug and wave. "Is that all?"
she said. "Then you are no better than Father Christopher and
the rest of them. Your own, your own, ever your own! My father
is the king's man, and when he rides into the press of fight he
is not thinking ever of the saving of his own poor body; he recks
little enough if he leave it on the field. Why then should you,
who are soldiers of the Spirit, be ever moping or hiding in cell
or in cave, with minds full of your own concerns, while the
world, which you should be mending, is going on its way, and
neither sees nor hears you? Were ye all as thoughtless of your
own souls as the soldier is of his body, ye would be of more
avail to the souls of others."
"There is sooth in what you say, lady," Alleyne answered; "and
yet I scarce can see what you would have the clergy and the
church to do."
"I would have them live as others and do men's work in the world,
preaching by their lives rather than their words. I would have
them come forth from their lonely places, mix with the borel
folks, feel the pains and the pleasures, the cares and the
rewards, the temptings and the stirrings of the common people.
Let them toil and swinken, and labor, and plough the land, and
take wives to themselves----"
"Alas! alas!" cried Alleyne aghast, "you have surely sucked this
poison from the man Wicliffe, of whom I have heard such evil
things."
"Nay, I know him not. I have learned it by looking from my own
chamber window and marking these poor monks of the priory, their
weary life, their profitless round. I have asked myself if the
best which can be done with virtue is to shut it within high
walls as though it were some savage creature. If the good will
lock themselves up, and if the wicked will still wander free,
then alas for the world!"
Alleyne looked at her in astonishment, for her cheek was flushed,
her eyes gleaming, and her whole pose full of eloquence and
conviction. Yet in an instant she had changed again to her old
expression of merriment leavened with mischief.
"Wilt do what I ask?" said she.
"What is it, lady?"
"Oh, most ungallant clerk! A true knight would never have asked,
but would have vowed upon the instant. 'Tis but to bear me out
in what I say to my father."
"In what?"
"In saying, if he ask, that it was south of the Christchurch road
that I met you. I shall be shut up with the tire-women else, and
have a week of spindle and bodkin, when I would fain be galloping
Troubadour up Wilverley Walk, or loosing little Roland at the
Vinney Ridge herons."
"I shall not answer him if he ask."
"Not answer! But he will have an answer. Nay, but you must not
fail me, or it will go ill with me."
"But, lady," cried poor Alleyne in great distress, "how can I say
that it was to the south of the road when I know well that it was
four miles to the north."
"You will not say it?"
"Surely you will not, too, when you know that it is not so?"
"Oh, I weary of your preaching!" she cried, and swept away with a
toss of her beautiful head, leaving Alleyne as cast down and
ashamed as though he had himself proposed some infamous thing.
She was back again in an instant, however, in another of her
varying moods.
"Look at that, my friend!" said she. "If you had been shut up in
abbey or in cell this day you could not have taught a wayward
maiden to abide by the truth. Is it not so? What avail is the
shepherd if he leaves his sheep."
"A sorry shepherd!" said Alleyne humbly. "But here is your noble
father."
"And you shall see how worthy a pupil I am. Father, I am much
beholden to this young clerk, who was of service to me and helped
me this very morning in Minstead Woods, four miles to the north
of the Christchurch road, where I had no call to be, you having
ordered it otherwise." All this she reeled off in a loud voice,
and then glanced with sidelong, questioning eyes at Alleyne for
his approval.
Sir Nigel, who had entered the room with a silvery-haired old
lady upon his arm, stared aghast at this sudden outburst of
candor.
"Maude, Maude!" said he, shaking his head, "it is more hard for
me to gain obedience from you than from the ten score drunken
archers who followed me to Guienne. Yet, hush! little one, for
your fair lady-mother will be here anon, and there is no need
that she should know it. We will keep you from the provost-marshal
this journey. Away to your chamber, sweeting, and keep a
blithe face, for she who confesses is shriven. And now, fair
mother," he continued, when his daughter had gone, "sit you here
by the fire, for your blood runs colder than it did. Alleyne
Edricson, I would have a word with you, for I would fain that you
should take service under me. And here in good time comes my
lady, without whose counsel it is not my wont to decide aught of
import; but, indeed, it was her own thought that you should
come."
"For I have formed a good opinion of you, and can see that you
are one who may be trusted," said the Lady Loring. "And in good
sooth my dear lord hath need of such a one by his side, for he
recks so little of himself that there should be one there to look
to his needs and meet his wants. You have seen the cloisters; it
were well that you should see the world too, ere you make choice
for life between them."
"It was for that very reason that my father willed that I should
come forth into the world at my twentieth year," said Alleyne.
"Then your father was a man of good counsel," said she, "and you
cannot carry out his will better than by going on this path,
where all that is noble and gallant in England will be your
companions."
"You can ride?" asked Sir Nigel, looking at the youth with
puckered eyes.
"Yes, I have ridden much at the abbey."
"Yet there is a difference betwixt a friar's hack and a warrior's
destrier. You can sing and play?"
"On citole, flute and rebeck."
"Good! You can read blazonry?"
"Indifferent well."
"Then read this," quoth Sir Nigel, pointing upwards to one of the
many quarterings which adorned the wall over the fireplace.
"Argent," Alleyne answered, "a fess azure charged with three
lozenges dividing three mullets sable. Over all, on an
escutcheon of the first, a jambe gules."
"A jambe gules erased," said Sir Nigel, shaking his head
solemnly. "Yet it is not amiss for a monk-bred man. I trust
that you are lowly and serviceable?"
"I have served all my life, my lord."
"Canst carve too?"
"I have carved two days a week for the brethren."
"A model truly! Wilt make a squire of squires. But tell me, I
pray, canst curl hair?"
"No, my lord, but I could learn."
"It is of import," said he, "for I love to keep my hair well
ordered, seeing that the weight of my helmet for thirty years
hath in some degree frayed it upon the top." He pulled off his
velvet cap of maintenance as he spoke, and displayed a pate which
was as bald as an egg, and shone bravely in the firelight. "You
see," said he, whisking round, and showing one little strip where
a line of scattered hairs, like the last survivors in some fatal
field, still barely held their own against the fate which had
fallen upon their comrades; "these locks need some little oiling
and curling, for I doubt not that if you look slantwise at my
head, when the light is good, you will yourself perceive that
there are places where the hair is sparse."
"It is for you also to bear the purse," said the lady; "for my
sweet lord is of so free and gracious a temper that he would give
it gayly to the first who asked alms of him. All these things,
with some knowledge of venerie, and of the management of horse,
hawk and hound, with the grace and hardihood and courtesy which
are proper to your age, will make you a fit squire for Sir Nigel
Loring."
"Alas! lady," Alleyne answered, "I know well the great honor that
you have done me in deeming me worthy to wait upon so renowned a
knight, yet I am so conscious of my own weakness that I scarce
dare incur duties which I might be so ill-fitted to fulfil."
"Modesty and a humble mind," said she, "are the very first and
rarest gifts in page or squire. Your words prove that you have
these, and all the rest is but the work of use and time. But
there is no call for haste. Rest upon it for the night, and let
your orisons ask for guidance in the matter. We knew your father
well, and would fain help his son, though we have small cause to
love your brother the Socman, who is forever stirring up strife
in the county."
"We can scare hope," said Nigel, "to have all ready for our start
before the feast of St. Luke, for there is much to be done in the
time. You will have leisure, therefore, if it please you to take
service under me, in which to learn your devoir. Bertrand, my
daughter's page, is hot to go; but in sooth he is over young for
such rough work as may be before us."
"And I have one favor to crave from you," added the lady of the
castle, as Alleyne turned to leave their presence. "You have, as
I understand, much learning which you have acquired at Beaulieu."
"Little enough, lady, compared with those who were my teachers."
"Yet enough for my purpose, I doubt not. For I would have you
give an hour or two a day whilst you are with us in discoursing
with my daughter, the Lady Maude; for she is somewhat backward, I
fear, and hath no love for letters, save for these poor fond
romances, which do but fill her empty head with dreams of
enchanted maidens and of errant cavaliers. Father Christopher
comes over after nones from the priory, but he is stricken with
years and slow of speech, so that she gets small profit from his
teaching. I would have you do what you can with her, and with
Agatha my young tire-woman, and with Dorothy Pierpont."
And so Alleyne found himself not only chosen as squire to a
knight but also as squire to three damosels, which was even
further from the part which he had thought to play in the world.
Yet he could but agree to do what he might, and so went forth
from the castle hall with his face flushed and his head in a
whirl at the thought of the strange and perilous paths which his
feet were destined to tread.
