CHAPTER XLIII
MALISE FETCHES A CLOUT
The four men whom the Messire Gilles, by good fortune, failed to seestanding in the doorway opposite the Hotel de Pornic were attired inthe habit of pilgrims to the shrine of Saint James of Compostella.Upon their heads they wore broad corded hats of brown. Long brownrobes covered them from head to foot. Their heads were tonsured, andas they went along they fumbled at their beads and gave theirbenediction to the people that passed by, whether they returned theman alms or not. This they did by spreading abroad the fingers of bothhands and inclining their heads, at the same time muttering tothemselves in a tongue which, if not Latin, was at least equallyunknown to the good folk of Paris.
"It is the house," said the tallest of the four, "stand well backwithin the shade!"
"Nay, Sholto, what need?" grumbled another, a very thickset palmer he;"if the maids be within, let us burst the gates, and go and take themout!"
"Be silent, Malise," put in the third pilgrim, whose dress of richerstuff than that of his companions, added to an air of natural command,betrayed the man of superior rank, "remember, great jolterhead, thatwe are not at the gates of Edinburgh with all the south country at ourbacks."
The fourth, a slender youth and fresh of countenance, stood somewhatbehind the first three, without speaking, and wore an air of profoundmeditation and abstraction.
It is not difficult to identify three out of the four. Sholto's questfor his sweetheart was a thing fixed and settled. That his father andhis brother Laurence should accompany him was also to be expected. Butthe other and more richly attired was somewhat less easy to becertified. The Lord James of Douglas it was, who spoke French with theidiomatic use and easy accentuation of a native, albeit of thosecentral provinces which had longest owned the sway of the King ofFrance. The brothers MacKim also spoke the language of the countryafter a fashion. For many Frenchmen had come over to Galloway in thetrains of the first two Dukes of Touraine, so that the Gallic speechwas a common accomplishment among the youths who sighed to adventurewhere so many poor Scots had won fortune, in the armies of the Kingsof France.
Indeed, throughout the centuries Paris cannot be other than Paris. AndParis was more than ever Paris in the reign of Charles the Seventh.Her populace, gay, fickle, brave, had just cast off the yoke of theEnglish, and were now venting their freedom from stern Saxon policingaccording to their own fashion. Not the King of France, but the Lordof Misrule held the sceptre in the capital.
It was not long therefore before a band of rufflers swung round acorner arm-in-arm, taking the whole breadth of the narrow causewaywith them as they came. It chanced that their leader espied the fourScots standing in the wide doorway of the house opposite the Hotel dePornic.
"Hey, game lads," he cried, in that roistering shriek which thenpassed for dashing hardihood among the youth of Paris, "here be someholy men, pilgrims to the shrine of Saint Denis, I warrant. I, too, ama clerk of a sort, for Henriet tonsured me on Wednesday sennight. Letus see if these men of good works carry any of the deceitful vanitiesof earth about with them in their purses. Sometimes such are not illlined!"
The youths accepted the proposal of their leader with alacrity.
"Let us have the blessing of the holy palmers," they cried, "and ekethe contents of their pockets!"
So with a gay shout, and in an evil hour for themselves, they boredown upon the four Scots.
"Good four evangelists," cried the youth who had spoken first--a tall,ill-favoured, and sallow young man in a cloak of blue lined withscarlet, swaggering it with long strides before the others, "tell uswhich of you four is Messire Matthew. For, being a tax-gatherer, hewill assuredly have money of his own, and besides, since the sad deathof your worthy friend Judas, he must have succeeded him as yourtreasurer."
"This is the keeper of our humble store, noble sir," answered the LordJames Douglas, quietly, indicating the giant Malise with his lefthand, "but spare him and us, I pray you courteously!"
"Ha, so," mocked the tall youth, turning to Malise, "then thegentleman of the receipt of custom hath grown strangely about thechest since he went a-wandering from Galilee!"
And he reached forward his hand to pull away the cloak which hunground the great frame of the master armourer.
Malise MacKim understood nothing of his words or of his intent, butwithout looking at his tormentor or any of the company, he asked ofJames Douglas, in a voice like the first distant mutterings of athunder-storm, "Shall I clout him?"
"Nay, be patient, Malise, I bid you. This is an ill town in which toget rid of a quarrel once begun. Be patient!" commanded James Douglasunder his breath.
"We are clerks ourselves," the swarthy youth went on, "and we havecome to the conclusion that such holy palmers as you be, men fromBurgundy or the Midi, as I guess by your speech, Spaniards by yourcloaks and this good tax-gatherer's beard, ought long ago to havetaken the vows of poverty. If not, you shall take them now. For, mostworthy evangelistic four, be it known unto you that I am Saint Peterand can loose or bind. So turn out your money-bags. Draw your blades,limber lads!"
Whereupon his companions with one accord drew their swords andadvanced upon the Scots. These stood still without moving as if theyhad been taken wholly unarmed.
"Shall I clout them now?" rumbled Malise the second time, with ananxious desire in his voice.
"Bide a wee yet," whispered the Lord James; "we will try the softanswer once more, and if that fail, why then, old Samson, you mayclout your fill."
"_His_ fill!" corrected Malise, grimly.
"Your pardon, good gentlemen," said James of Douglas aloud to thespokesman, "we are poor men and travel with nothing but the merestnecessities--of which surely you would not rob us."
"Nay, holy St. Luke," mocked the swarthy one, "not rob. That is anevil word--rather we would relieve you of temptation for your ownsouls' good. You are come for your sins to Paris. You know that thelove of money is the root of all evil. So in giving to us who areclerks of Paris you will not lose your ducats, but only contribute ofyour abundance to Holy Mother Church. I am a clerk, see--I do notdeceive you! I will both shrive and absolve you in return for thefilthy lucre!"
And, commanding one of his rabble to hold a torch close to his head,he uncovered and showed a tonsured crown.
"And if we refuse?" said Lord James, quietly.
"Then, good Doctor Luke," answered the youth, "we are ten to four--andit would be our sad duty to send you all to heaven and then ease yourpockets, lest, being dead, some unsanctified passer-by might betempted to steal your money."
"Surely I may clout him now?" came again like the nearer growl of alion from Malise the smith.
Seeing the four men apparently intimidated and without means ofdefence, the ten youths advanced boldly, some with swords in theirright hands and torches in their left, the rest with swords anddaggers both. The Scots stood silent and firm. Not a weapon showedfrom beneath a cloak.
"Down on your knees!" cried the leader of the young roisterers, andwith his left hand he thrust a blazing torch into the grey beard ofMalise.
There was a quick snort of anger. Then, with a burst of relief andpleasure, came the words, "By God, I'll clout him now!" The sound of amighty buffet succeeded, something cracked like a broken egg, and theclever-tongued young clerk went down on the paving-stones with aclatter, as his torch extinguished itself in the gutter and his swordflew ringing across the street.
"Come on, lads--they have struck the first blow. We are safe from thelaw. Kill them every one!" cried his companions, advancing to theattack with a confidence born of numbers and the consciousness offighting on their own ground.
But ere they reached the four men who had waited so quietly, the Scotshad gathered their cloaks about their left arms in the fashion ofshields, and a blade, long and stout, gleamed in every right hand.Still no armour was to be seen, and, though somewhat disconcerted, theassailants were by no means dismayed.
"Come on--let us revenge De Sille!" they cried.
&n
bsp; "Lord, Lord, this is gaun to be a sair waste o' guid steel," grumbledMalise; "would that I had in my fist a stieve oaken staff out ofHalmyre wood. Then I could crack their puir bit windlestaes o' swords,without doing them muckle hurt! Laddies, laddies, be warned and gangdecently hame to your mithers before a worse thing befall. James, yehae their ill-contrived lingo, tell them to gang awa' peaceably totheir naked beds!"
For, having vented his anger in the first buffet, Malise was nowsomewhat remorseful. There was no honour in such fighting. But allunwarned the youthful roisterers of Paris advanced. This was a nightlybusiness with them, and indeed on such street robberies of strangersand shopkeepers the means of continuing their carousings depended.
It chanced that at the first brunt of the attack Sholto, who was atthe other end of the line from his father, had to meet three opponentsat once. He kept them at bay for a minute by the quickness of hisdefence, but being compelled to give back he was parrying a couple oftheir blades in front, when the third got in a thrust beneath his arm.It was as if the hostile sword had stricken a stone wall. The flimsyand treacherous blade went to flinders, and the would-be robber wasleft staring at the guard suddenly grown light in his hand.
With a quick backward step, Sholto slashed his last assailant acrossthe upper arm, effectually disabling him. Then, catching his heel in arut, he fell backward, and it would have gone ill with him but for theaction of his father. The brawny one was profoundly disgusted athaving to waste his strength and science upon such a rabble, and now,at the moment of his son's fall, he suddenly dropped his sword andseized a couple of torches which had fallen upon the pavement. Withthese primitive weapons he fell like a whirlwind upon the foe, takingthem unexpectedly in flank. A sweep of his mighty arms right and leftsent two of the assailants down, one with the whole side of his facescarified from brow to jaw, and the other with his mouth at oncewidened by the blow and hermetically closed by the blazing tar.
Next, Sholto's pair of assailants received each a mighty buffet andwent down with cracked sconces. The rest, seeing this revolving anddecimating fire-mill rushing upon them as Malise waved the torchesround his head, turned tail and fled incontinently into the narrowalleys which radiated in all directions from the Hotel de Pornic.