CHAPTER XVIII.

  SENTENCED TO DEATH.

  Just before arriving at the refuge they had passed along a very steepand dangerous path. On one side the rock rose precipitously, ten feetabove their heads. On the other was a fall into the valley below. Theroad at this point was far wider than usual.

  Presently the howl of a wolf was heard near, and soon the solitary callwas succeeded by the howling of great numbers of animals. These speedilysurrounded the hut, and so fierce were their cries that Cnut changed hisopinion as to the ease with which they could be defeated, and allowedthat he would rather face an army of Saracens than a troop of theseill-conditioned animals. The horse trembled in every limb at the soundof the howling of the wolves; and cold as was the night, in spite of thegreat fire that blazed on the hearth, his coat became covered with thelather of fear. Even upon the roof above the trampling of the animalscould be heard; and through the open slits of the windows which sometravelers before them had stuffed with straw, they could hear the fiercebreathing and snorting of the savage beasts, who scratched and tore tomake an entrance.

  "Methinks," Cuthbert said, "that we might launch a few arrows throughthese loopholes. The roof appears not to be over strong; and should someof them force an entrance, the whole pack might follow."

  Dark as was the night, the black bodies were visible against the whitesnow, and the archers shot several arrows forth, each stretching a wolfdead on the ground. Those killed were at once pounced upon by theircomrades and torn to pieces; and this mark of savageness added to thehorror which those within felt of the ferocious animals. Suddenly therewas a pause in the howling around the hut, and then Cnut, looking forthfrom the loophole, declared that the whole body had gone off at fullspeed along the path by which they had reached the refuge. Almostimmediately afterward a loud shout for help was heard, followed by therenewed howling and yelping of the wolves.

  "Good heavens!" Cuthbert exclaimed. "Some traveler coming after us isattacked by these horrible beasts. Let us sally out, Cnut. We cannothear a Christian torn to pieces by these beasts, without lending him ahand."

  In spite of the angry shouts and entreaties of the guide, the door wasthrust open, and the party, armed with their axes and bows, at oncerushed out into the night. The storm had for the moment abated and theyhad no difficulty in making their way along the track. In fifty yardsthey came to a bend of the path, and saw, a little distance before them,a black mass of animals covering the road, and congregated round afigure who stood with his back to the rock. With a shout ofencouragement they sprang forward, and in a few moments were in themidst of the savage animals, who turned their rage against them at once.They had fired two or three arrows apiece, as they approached, intothem; and now throwing down their bows, the archers betook themselves totheir swords, while Cuthbert with his heavy battle-axe hewed and cut atthe wolves as they sprang toward him. In a minute they had cleared theirway to the figure, which was that of a knight in complete armor. Heleaned against the rock completely exhausted, could only mutter a wordof thanks through his closed visor. At a short distance off a number ofthe wolves were gathered, rending and tearing the horse of the knight;but the rest, soon recovering from their surprise, attacked with furythe little party. The thick cloaks of the archers stood them in goodstead against the animal's teeth, and standing in a group with theirbacks to the rock, they hewed and cut vigorously at their assailants.The numbers of these, however, appeared almost innumerable, and freshstragglers continued to come along the road, and swell their body. Asfast as those in front fell, their heads cleft with the axes of theparty, fresh ones sprang forward; and Cuthbert saw that in spite of thevalor and strength of his men, the situation was well-nigh desperate. Hehimself had been saved from injury by his harness, for he still had onhis greaves and leg pieces.

  "Keep together," he shouted to his men, "and each lend aid to the otherif he sees him pulled down. Strike lustily for life, and hurry not yourblows, but let each toll." This latter order he gave perceiving thatsome of the archers, terrified by this furious army of assailants withgaping mouths and glistening teeth, were striking wildly, and losingtheir presence of mind.

  The combat, although it might have been prolonged, could yet have hadbut one termination, and the whole party would have fallen. At thismoment, however, a gust of wind, more furious than any which they hadbefore experienced, swept along the gorge, and the very wolves had tocrouch on their stomachs to prevent themselves being hurled by its furyinto the ravine below. Then even above the storm a deep roar was heard.It grew louder and louder. The wolves, as if struck with terror, leapedto their feet, and scattered on either way along the path at fullspeed.

  "What sound can this be?" Cnut exclaimed in an awe-struck voice. "Itsounds like thunder; but it is regular and unbroken; and, my lord,surely the earth quakes under our feet!"

  Louder and louder grew the roar.

  "Throw yourselves down against the wall of rock," Cuthbert shouted,himself setting the example.

  A moment afterward, from above a mighty mass of rock and snow pouredover like a cascade, with a roar and sound which nigh stunned them. Forminutes--it seemed for hours to them--the deluge of snow and rockcontinued. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, it ceased, and a silenceas of death reigned over the place.

  "Arise," Cuthbert said; "the danger, methinks, is past. It was what mencall an avalanche--a torrent of snow slipping down from the higherpeaks. We have had a narrow escape indeed."

  By this time the knight whom they had rescued was able to speak, andraising his visor, he returned his deepest thanks to those who had comeso opportunely to his aid.

  "I was well-nigh exhausted," he said, "and it was only my armor whichsaved me from being torn to pieces. A score of them had hold of me; butfortunately my mail was of Milan proof, and even the jaws and teeth ofthese enormous beasts were unable to pierce it."

  "The refuge is near at hand," Cuthbert said. "It is but a few yardsround yonder point. It is well that we heard your voice. I fear thatyour horse has fallen a victim."

  Assisting the knight, who in spite of his armor was sorely bruised andexhausted, they made their way back to the refuge. Cnut and the archerswere all bleeding freely from various wounds inflicted upon them in thestruggle, breathless and exhausted from their exertions, and thoroughlyawe-struck by the tremendous phenomenon of which they had beenwitnesses, and which they had only escaped from their good fortune inhappening to be in a place so formed that the force of the avalanche hadswept over their heads. The whole of the road, with the exception of anarrow piece four feet in width, had been carried away. Looking upward,they saw that the forest had been swept clear, not a tree remaining in awide track as far as they could see up the hill. The great bowlderswhich had strewn the hillside, and many of which were as large ashouses, had been swept away like straws before the rush of snow, and fora moment they feared that the refuge had also been carried away. Turningthe corner, however, they saw to their delight that the limits of theavalanche had not extended so far, the refuges, as they afterwardlearned, being so placed as to be sheltered by overhanging cliffs fromany catastrophe of this kind.

  They found the guide upon his knees, muttering his prayers before across, which he had formed of two sticks laid crosswise on the groundbefore him; and he could scarce believe his eyes when they entered, socertain had he considered it that they were lost. There were no longerany signs of the wolves. The greater portion, indeed, of the pack hadbeen overwhelmed by the avalanche, and the rest, frightened and scared,had fled to their fastnesses in the woods.

  The knight now removed his helmet, and discovered a handsome young manof some twenty-four or twenty-five years old.

  "I am," he said, "Baron Ernest of Kornstein. To whom do I owe my life?"

  "In spite of my red cross," Cuthbert said, "I am English. My name is SirCuthbert, and I am Earl of Evesham. I am on my return from the Holy Landwith my followers; and as we are passing through countries where manyof the people are hostile to England, we have thought it
as well for atime to drop our nationality. But to you I do not hesitate to tell thetruth."

  "You do well," the young knight said, "for, truth to say, the people ofthese parts bear but little love to your countrymen. You have saved mylife when I was in the sorest danger. I had given myself up for lost,for even my armor could not have saved me long from these wretches; andmy sword and life are at your disposal. You are young indeed," he said,looking with surprise at Cuthbert, who had now thrown back the hood ofhis cloak, "to have gained the honor of knighthood. You scarce lookeighteen years of age, although, doubtless, you are older."

  "I am scarce seventeen," Cuthbert said; "but I have had the good fortuneto attract the notice of King Richard, and to have received theknighthood from his sword."

  "None more worthy," said the young knight, "for although King Richardmay be fierce and proud, he is the worthiest knight in Christendom, andresembles the heroes of romance rather than a Christian king."

  "He is my lord and master," Cuthbert said, "and I love him beyond allmen, and would give my life for his. He is the kindest and best ofmasters; and although it be true that he brooks no opposition, yet is itonly because his own bravery and eagerness render hateful to him theindolence and cowardice of others."

  They now took their seats round the fire. The archers, by the advice ofthe guide, rubbed their wounds with snow, and then applied bandages tothem. The wallets were opened, and a hearty supper eaten; and all,wrapping themselves in their fur cloaks, were soon asleep.

  For four days the gale continued, keeping the party prisoners in thehut. On the fifth the force of the wind abated, and the snow ceased tofall. They were forced to take the door off its hinges to open it, forthe snow had piled up so high that the chimney alone of the hut remainedabove its surface. With great difficulty and labor they cleared a wayout, and then the guide again placing himself at their head, theyproceeded on their way. The air was still and cold, and the sky of adeep, dark blue, which seemed even darker in contrast with the whitenessof the snow. At times they had great difficulty in struggling throughthe deep drifts; but for the most part the wind had swept the pathclear. Where it was deepest, the tops of the posts still showed abovethe snow, and enabled the guide to direct their footsteps. They were,however, obliged to travel slowly, and it was three days before theygained the village on the northern slope of the mountains, having sleptat refuges by the road.

  "What are your plans?" the knight asked Sir Cuthbert that night, as theysat by the fire of the hostelry. "I would warn you that the town whichyou will first arrive at is specially hostile to your people, for thebaron, its master, is a relation of Conrad of Montferat, who is said tohave been killed by order of your king."

  "It is false," Cuthbert said. "King Richard had appointed him King ofJerusalem; and, though he liked him not, thought him the fittest ofthose there to exercise sovereignty. He was the last man who would havehad an enemy assassinated; for so open is he of disposition that hewould have fought hand to hand with the meanest soldier of his army hadhe desired to kill him."

  "I doubt not that it is so, since you tell me," the knight saidcourteously. "But the people here have taken that idea into their minds,and it will be hard to disabuse them. You must therefore keep up yourdisguise as a French knight while passing through this neighborhood.Another week's journeying, and you will reach the confines of Saxony,and there you will, as you anticipate, be safe. But I would not answerfor your life were you discovered here to be of English birth. And nowtell me if there is aught that I can do for you. I will myself accompanyyou into the town, and will introduce you as a French knight, so that nosuspicion is likely to lie upon you, and will, further, ride with you tothe borders of Saxony. I am well known, and trust that my company willavert all suspicion from you. You have told me that your purse isill-supplied; you must suffer me to replenish it. One knight need notfear to borrow of another; and I know that when you have returned toyour home you will bestow the sum which I now give you upon some holyshrine in my name, and thus settle matters between us."

  Cuthbert without hesitation accepted the offer, and was well pleased atfinding his purse replenished, for its emptiness had caused him serioustrouble. Cuthbert's steed was led by one of the archers, and he himselfwalked gayly alongside of Sir Ernest, followed by his retainers. Anotherlong day's march brought them down to Innsbruck, where they remainedquietly for a week. Then they journeyed on until they emerged from themountains, crossed the Bavarian frontier, and arrived at Fussen, astrong city, with well-built walls and defenses.

  They at once proceeded to the principal hostelry, where the young baronwas well known, and where great interest was excited by the news of thenarrow escape which he had had from the attack of the wolves. A journeyacross the Alps was in those days regarded as a very perilous enterprisein the winter season, and the fact that he should have been rescued fromsuch a strait appeared almost miraculous. They stayed for two daysquietly in the city, Cuthbert declining the invitation of the youngnoble to accompany him to the houses of his friends, as he did not wishthat any suspicion should be excited as to his nationality, andpreferred remaining quiet to having forced upon him the necessity ofmaking false statements. As to his followers, there was no fear of thepeople among whom they mixed detecting that they were English. To theBavarian inhabitants, all languages, save their native German, werealike unintelligible; and even had French been commonly spoken, thedialects of that tongue, such as would naturally be spoken by archersand men-at-arms, would have been a Greek to those accustomed only toNorman French.

  Upon the third day, however, an incident occurred which upset Cuthbert'scalculations, and nearly involved the whole party in ruin. The town was,as the young baron had said, governed by a noble who was a near relationof Conrad of Montferat, and who was the bitter enemy of the English. Agreat _fete_ had been given in honor of the marriage of his daughter,and upon this day the young pair were to ride in triumph through thecity. Great preparations had been made; masks and pageants of variouskinds manufactured; and the whole townspeople, dressed in their holidayattire, were gathered in the streets. Cuthbert had gone out, followed byhis little band of retainers, and taken their station to see the passingshow. First came a large body of knights and men-at-arms, with gaybanners and trappings. Then rode the bridegroom, with the bride carriedin a litter by his side. After this came several allegoricalrepresentations. Among these was the figure of a knight bearing the armsof Austria. Underneath his feet, on the car, lay a figure clad in aroyal robe, across whom was thrown a banner with the leopards ofEngland. The knight stood with his foot on this figure.

  This representation of the dishonor of England at the hands of Austriaelicited great acclamations from the crowd. Cuthbert clinched his teethand grasped his sword angrily, but had the sense to see the folly oftaking any notice of the insult. Not so with Cnut. Furious it the insultoffered to the standard of his royal master, Cnut, with a bound, burstthrough the ranks of the crowd, leaped on to the car, and with a buffetsmote the figure representing Austria into the road, and lifted the flagof England from the ground. A yell of indignation and rage was heard.The infuriated crowd rushed forward. Cnut, with a bound, sprang from thecar, and, joining his comrades, burst through those who attempted toimpede them, and darted down a by-street.

  Cuthbert, for the moment amazed at the action of his follower, had onthe instant drawn his sword and joined the archers. In the crowd,however, he was for a second separated from them; and before he couldtear himself from the hands of the citizens who had seized him, themen-at-arms accompanying the procession surrounded him, and he was ledaway by them to the castle, the guards with difficulty protecting himfrom the enraged populace. Even at this moment Cuthbert experienced adeep sense of satisfaction at the thought that his followers hadescaped. But he feared that alone, and unacquainted with the language ofthe country, they would find it difficult indeed to escape the searchwhich would be made for them, and to manage to find their way back totheir country. For himself, he had little hopes of liberty,
and scarcelymore of life. The hatred of the baron toward the English would now beheightened by the daring act of insult to the arms of Austria, and thiswould give a pretext for any deed of violence which might be wrought.

  Cuthbert was, after a short confinement, brought before the lord baronof the place, in the great hall of the castle.

  "Who art thou, sir," the noble exclaimed, "who darest to disturb themarriage procession of my daughter, and to insult the standard of theemperor my master?"

  "I am Sir Cuthbert, Earl of Evesham, a baron of England," Cuthbert saidfearlessly, "and am traveling homeward from the Holy Land. My garb as aCrusader should protect me from all interruption; and the heedlessconduct of my retainer was amply justified by the insult offered to thearms of England. There is not one of the knights assembled round you whowould not in like manner have avenged an insult offered to those ofAustria; and I am ready to do battle in the lists with any who choose tosay that the deed was a foul or improper one. In the Holy Land Austriansand English fought side by side; and it is strange indeed to me that onmy return, journeying through the country of the emperor, I should findmyself treated as an enemy, and see the arms of King Richard exposed toinsult and derision by the burghers of this city."

  As Cuthbert had spoken he threw down his mailed glove, and several ofthe knights present stepped forward to pick it up. The baron, however,waved them back.

  "It is no question," he said, "of honorable fight. This is a follower ofthe murderer of my good cousin of Montferat, who died under the hands ofassassins set upon him by Richard of England."

  "It is false!" Cuthbert shouted. "I denounce it as a foul lie, and willmaintain it with my life."

  "Your life is already forfeited," the baron said, "both by your pastconnection with Richard of England and as the insulter of the arms ofAustria. You die, and to-morrow at noon your head shall be struck off inthe great square before my castle."

  Without another word Cuthbert was hurried off to his cell, and thereremained, thinking moodily over the events of the day, until nightfall.He had no doubt that his sentence would be carried out, and his anxietywas rather for his followers than for himself. He feared that they wouldmake some effort on his behalf, and would sacrifice their own lives indoing so, without the possibility of assisting him.

  The next morning he was led out to the square before the castle. It wasa large flagged courtyard. Upon one side was the entrance to the castle,one of whose wings also formed a second side to the square. The sidefacing this was formed by the wall of the city, and the fourth openedupon a street of the town. This side of the square was densely filledwith citizens, while the men-at-arms of the baron and a large number ofknights were gathered behind a scaffold erected in the center. Upon thiswas a block, and by the side stood a headsman. As Cuthbert was ledforward a thrill of pleasure ran through him at perceiving no signs ofhis followers, who he greatly feared might have been captured in thenight, and brought there to share his fate.

  As he was led forward the young noble whose life he had saved advancedto the baron, and dropping on one knee before him, craved the life ofCuthbert, relating the event by which he had saved his life in thepassage of the mountains. The baron frowned heavily.

  "Though he had saved the life of every noble in Bavaria," he said, "heshould die. I have sworn an oath that every Englishman who fell into myhands should expiate the murder of my kinsman; and this fellow is,moreover, guilty of an outrage to the arms of Austria."

  The young Sir Ernest drew himself up haughtily.

  "My lord baron," he said, "henceforth I renounce all allegiance to you,and I will lay the case before the emperor, our common master, and willcry before him at the outrage which has thus been passed upon a noblegentleman. He has thrown down the glove, and challenged any of yourknights, and I myself am equally ready to do battle in his cause."

  The baron grew red with passion, and he would have ordered the instantarrest of the young man, but as Sir Ernest was connected by blood withmany present, and was indeed one of the most popular among the nobles ofthe province, the baron simply waved him aside, and ordered Cuthbert tobe led to the block. The young Englishman was by the executionerdivested of his armor and helmet, and stood in the simple attire worn bymen of rank at that time. He looked around, and holding up his hand,conveying alike a farewell and a command to his followers to remain inconcealment, he gazed round the crowd, thinking that he might see amongthem in some disguise or other the features of Cnut, whose tall figurewould have rendered him conspicuous in a crowd. He failed, however, tosee any signs of him, and turning to the executioner, signified by agesture that he was ready.

  At this instant an arrow from the wall above pierced the brain of theman, and he fell dead in his tracks. A roar of astonishment burst fromthe crowd. Upon the city wall at this point was a small turret, and onthis were five figures. The wall around was deserted, and for the momentthese men were masters of the position.

  "Seize those insolent varlets!" the baron shouted, shaking his swordwith a gesture of fury at them.

  His words, however, were arrested, for at the moment another arrowstruck him in the throat, and he fell back into the arms of those aroundhim.

  Quickly now the arrows of the English archers flew into the courtyard.The confusion which reigned there was indescribable. The citizens withshouts of alarm took to their heels. The men-at-arms were powerlessagainst this rain of missiles, and the knights, hastily closing theirvisors, shouted contradictory orders, which no one obeyed.

  In the confusion no one noticed the prisoner. Seizing a moment when theattention of all was fixed upon the wall, he leaped from the platform,and making his way unnoticed through the excited crowd of men-at-arms,darted down a narrow lane that divided the castle from the wall. He ranalong until, one hundred yards further, he came to a staircase by whichaccess to the battlements was obtained. Running lightly up this, he keptalong the wall until he reached the turret.

  "Thanks, my noble Cnut!" he exclaimed, "and you, my brave fellows. But Ifear you have forfeited your lives. There is no escape. In a minute thewhole force of the place will recover from their confusion, and be downupon us from both sides."

  "We have prepared for that," Cnut said. "Here is a rope hanging downinto the moat."

  Glancing over, Cuthbert saw that the moat was dry; and after a finaldischarge of arrows into the crowd, the six men slid one after anotherdown the rope and made their way at full speed across the country.