CHAPTER XII--THE IRON COLLAR
A year had passed since our ill-fated venture beneath the walls ofKimberley, and 'twas such an autumn morning as makes one forget hiscares and sorrows and those of a strife-torn world, and believe in thecoming of a better day.
Cedric and I had promised ourselves rare sport in the woods of Grimsby.The sky overhead was of brightest blue, and the sunlight filteredsweetly through the boughs of oak and beech that now had dropped thehalf of their leaves to make a rustling carpet underfoot. In thetreetops the birds sang lustily, making the best of the smiling timethat comes before the winter's winds and snows. Now and again awoodmouse scampered on fallen log, a hare sprang away from her form, ora moorfowl scuttled to cover in the bracken. To me there were neversweeter sights and sounds and fragrances than those of autumn woodlands;and to Cedric, the son of a Pelham forester, they were as native andjoyous as the brown brook waters to the speckled trout or the green hillpastures to the Mountjoy kine.
Since my comrade and former squire had been knighted at Wenderley, afterthe victory over the Welsh at the Pass of the Eagles, we at Mountjoy hadgrown well used to think of him as Sir Cedric De La Roche, the nameconferred by the Lord High Constable when he made him knight andchevalier. But a newer honor had come to him but four months past; andthough 'twas well deserved and a most gracious act of our liege lord,the Lion Hearted Richard, we yet could scarce conceive of its reality.
De Lacey, the High Constable, who with the backing of all the Mountjoysand Carletons, had well served the King in the Western counties in thestruggle against his usurping brother, John, after the King's returnfrom the German captivity, had told to him the tale of the Welsh battleand something of Cedric's more recent services. Then he had hinted thatthe fee of Grimsby had been vacant, save for the royal stewards, eversince Sir James Dunwoodie and his brother had perished in the Battle atthe Pass. Forthwith the King summoned secretaries to write at hisbidding; and shortly a herald arrived at Castle Mountjoy with letterspatent, making our Cedric the Knight of Grimsby and conferring on him infee the lands and manor house and all the rights Dunwoodie had before.
At the royal assembly at Shrewsbury, Cedric had appeared with his duequota of six mounted men-at-arms and fifty archers; and no knight orbaron in the whole array looked a better captain of his forces or heldhimself in more manly fashion as the King rode down the line to view us.Truly my heart swelled that day with gladness at the recognition thathad come to so brave and true a man without awaiting the silvering ofhis hair and the bowing of his shoulders with years.
Lord Mountjoy was mightily proud of Cedric, as I well knew, and hadstinted not to boast of him on occasion as a Mountjoy lad with a head aswell as hands. And, however he might wish to check o'er-weening youthand confidence, my father might not gainsay that he, that had long beenfamous for his swordplay through all our countryside, had much ado tohold his own with foil or quarter-staff against me, now that my strengthand reach did equal his, or that Cedric of the broad back and oakenthighs could lift breast-high a weight that neither of us could stir.
Now Sir Cedric De La Roche and I adventured through the Grimsby woods,afoot, clad as huntsmen and carrying only our cross-bows and poniards.For the most part, those that hunt in greenwood choose the long-bow withits cloth-yard shafts; but from a child Cedric had displayed a wondrousskill with the other weapon; it was ever his favorite; and I followedhis humor. Already he had struck a fine moorfowl that ran amongst thegorse and I a hare that sat upright beneath a leafy beech, thinkinghimself well hidden. We talked full loud and gayly as we made our waythrough bush and brake or along the woodland paths, for truly it was thesunlight and the comradeship and the smell of the fallen leaves that hadbrought us to the forest rather than any wish for heavy game sacks.Already we had meat enough for the roasting at our noon-tide campfire;and we little cared for more.
To fare abroad on such a morn, among the gray tree trunks and by thebrown woodland streams, was enough for our content. As we walked on,Cedric told tale after tale that he had from old books of ballads andchronicles wherein brave knights rode gayly through just such a land asthis and had full many gallant adventures and sweet passages at arms.Almost could I see the fays and elves that he declared were dancing onthe forest floor and the old, black-robed magician that held them at histhralls.
Suddenly we heard sound of hoofs, and saw approaching us along a bridlepath two armed and mounted horsemen. 'Twas Lord Gilroy, who held thegreat domain of that name two leagues and more away, and his nephew, ahulking youth of two and twenty or thereabouts, by name Sir PhilipCarrington. Both were red of face with hurry, and their horses were welllathered and breathing hard. At first sight of us Lord Gilroy called outloudly:
"Ah, good morrow, gentlemen! Well met, Mountjoy and Grimsby both.Grimsby, we have to crave thy leave to ride through thy lands in searchof a murdering villain that hath escaped us at Gilroy."
"A murderer, sayst thou?" answered Cedric, "whom hath he slain?"
_BOTH WERE RED OF FACE WITH HURRY, AND THEIR HORSES WEREWELL LATHERED AND BREATHING HARD_]
"'Tis Simon, my dogmaster. He lies at the point of death, or is dead foraught I know by this time, his skull near crushed with a cudgel. 'Twasmy thrall, Egbert, a surly fellow well deserving of the hangman's noose,that thus assaulted him. It seems the dogmaster had found him soreabusing one o' the best of our hounds, and had rated him soundly,threatening a report to me of his actions. I saw but the end of thematter and that from a distance, and with Philip here have ridden hardafter him. The varlet made at once for the woods and has thus farescaped us; but we will run him to earth, if it take the whole ofGilroy.
"A surly fellow indeed!" exclaimed Sir Cedric. "'Tis well that he beapprehended quickly, else he'll join some outlaw band, and bid us alldefiance. Thou may'st ride through my lands at will for his capture--orwe may chance upon him in the wood. How may we know him?"
Lord Gilroy smiled, but in a hard, grim way he hath that is moremenacing than any frown.
"'Tis easy knowing him. He wears an iron collar, like all my thralls,bearing his own name and mine in graven letters. It makes the hunting ofthem far easier when they have done some violence, or if they attempt tofly from my lands. But give you good day, messieurs! We must fare on. Ifso be you get sight of him, a cross-bow quarrel would not be amiss if hestop not on order. And if you take and send him to me, I will be muchbeholden. Our thralls must be kept well in leash, e'en if that leash beon occasion a hangman's knot. Come Philip, ride to the left, I praythee, while I follow this path through yonder thicket."
Cedric and I walked on, talking of this bloody mischief, and of thechances of the thrall's recapture. Somehow the brightness had gone fromthe sun glints, and the woodland seemed no longer a forest enchantedwhere nymphs and elves might dance away from hollowed tree or thegray-haired wizard, Merwin, be seen upon a mossy rock, summoning bymagic spells a troop of Arthur's chivalry.
"'Tis true this fellow must be taken," said Cedric, sadly, "for such ashe make up the outlaw bands that now and again give trouble sore tohonest men. But I know not for the life of me why men that are born anddie upon this green earth like any others, and that have as good a wishto live unhampered as you and I, should wear upon their necks collars ofiron that mark them forever as slaves and bondmen. I have little wonderthat such at times break forth with violence. Nay! I have the more thatever they remain quiet like oxen in a paddock awaiting the plowman'syoke."
Cedric had stopped short in the path and was facing me. Upon his broadand comely face was the same stern look he had worn that day hewithstood my father in the matter of the churls at De Lancey Manor.
"Why, God ha' mercy, Cedric!" I protested, "I see no need for all thisheat. These thralls have never known other condition; and 'tis like theylive the more in comfort for a master's guidance."
Cedric's eyes blazed at this, and he spoke full loudly:
"Look thee now, Sir Richard! Hast ever asked of thrall whether or not hewould have his freedom if he might? If
ever thou dost, thou'lt find thatthere's never a villein or thrall in England but would prefer himself asmaster to the kindest and best of lords that ever lived."
"How know'st thou that?" I questioned, sharply, being myself somewhatkindled by the heat with which he spoke.
"Hark thee, Sir Richard! Thou hast on Mountjoy lands no thralls, forthat thy grandfather made freemen of them all. But when I came toGrimsby there were here a dozen or more that wore the iron collar andmight not leave the land. I had not been here a fortnight ere I loosedthe collars from their necks, and bade them go or stay as pleased themfor that now they were free men. Some were youths like ourselves; somestrong men of middle life and others old and white-haired; but every oneof them fell down before me and wept for very joy that they and theirchildren after them should be free. Forsooth, I liked it not that menwith sons older than me should pay me homage as I were a heathen Caliphon his throne. 'Tis nearly four months since; and not one of them hasleft the lands of Grimsby and every one would fight for me 'gainst anyman on earth. Had'st thou seen their faces on that day I threw theircollars to the smith to beat into bush-cutting hooks, thou'd neverquestion more whether men would choose to _be_ men rather than cattle."
"Ah well!" I answered, "mayhap it is as thou sayest. Some of the bestmen under the Mountjoy banner are sons of those my grandfather loosedfrom bondage. But this is a question too great for our settlement, andthis too fair a day for argument. What if we make our fire and dressthis meat for dinner? Verily, I am already sharp set with this autumnair."
Just then we spied before us, on a little rise in the woodland, ahunting lodge that had been built by the Dunwoodies for their pleasuringwhen they and their friends hunted in the forest. Cedric remembered thathe had the key to the great lock on the door among those that hung athis girdle; and we advanced to enter and examine the place, I, for one,being glad enough of any happening that should cause us to forget thematters of which we had been talking. Soon we were inside the lodge, andfound it clean and comfortable enough, it being furnished forth with atable and benches of logs, split and hewn, and a good broad fireplacewith spits whereon to hang the roasting.
"Ah!" cried Cedric in a voice far other than his last speaking, "whatsay'st thou? Shall we not roast our meat here rather than among theleaves in the wood, where a fire in this dry time may go beyond ourholding?"
"Surely," I answered, "'twill be better far to-day. Come, I'll flay anddress the hare while thou makest ready the fire. Thou'rt ever skillfulat the kindling."
So we set gayly to work; and in half an hour had our meat before us onthe table. Some bread and cheese from our pouches that we toasted o'erthe embers made with it a feast fit for any king on a woodland holiday.Our content with the world returned, and we sang a lusty ballad over thewell-picked bones. Then, being something thirsty, Cedric started up tosee if the lodge contained a pitcher with which he might fetch clearwater from the stream near by. Meanwhile my eye had been caught by anold and somewhat rusted broadsword that hung on pegs over the fireplace.I reached it down at once, and, testing it with a few passes and upwardstrokes, found it a good blade and true; and wondered much that itshould have been left in this place as something without worth. Then Isaw on a bench in a darkened corner a small anvil and some armorer'stools, and bethought me that the lodge might have been used at need forrepairing arms when the Grimsby men were called to war.
For a moment I had not noted Cedric's movements; but now at a suddenword from him I wheeled about and saw him crouching at the door of aninner room of the lodge and gazing into the darkness beyond as a houndthat hath run the fox to earth: I crouched beside him and looked also.The room beyond, it seems, had been used in the Dunwoodies' time for thereceiving and dressing of meat and drink and such like offices. Therewas a small square window, now nearly closed by its plank shutter, butadmitting at the side a narrow beam of light. For a time my eyes couldmake out naught; but after a little I saw, beneath a bench or table inthe farthest corner, first two glistening eyes, then, dimly, the form ofa man.
Cedric took down his cross-bow and laid a bolt in groove.
"Come forth from there, my man," he shouted, "we have thee fairlycaught."
No answer came, and for a moment I doubted if we had seen aright. ThenCedric called out again:
"Come forth, I tell thee. Else I'll fairly send a quarrel through thee."
There came a low groan from the darkness, and words that seemed madewith labor:
"Strike then. I care not."
"What say'st thou?" called Cedric, "seest thou not I can strike theewith bolt fairly in face?"
"Strike then. 'Tis better so."
Cedric turned to me with blank amaze upon his face.
"Heard thou ever the like? The man defies us to the death." Then,quickly thrusting his bow into my hands:
"Hold this against mischance. There's more to this than we know. I willfetch this fellow forth."
"Hold Cedric," I cried, "beware lest he stab thee."
But my comrade had already advanced into the darkened room. He sprangbeneath the table, like a boar-hound on his prey, and in an instantemerged at deathly grips with a man as broad and heavy as himself whofought with tooth and nail and heel and with the fierceness of acornered wolf. E'en in that moment I noted the iron collar on his neck,and knew we had to do with Egbert, the Gilroy thrall.
Round and round they whirled in desperate wrestling, the while I triedin vain to be of help. In a moment they were out of the room where thevillein had lain hidden and fighting full madly in the lodge, the thrallstriving to throw his captor from him and make his way out the door andinto the woods beyond.
Finding this impossible, he made a mighty effort, and lifted Cedricfairly from his feet, and flung him on his side upon the floor. For aninstant it seemed he would win away unless I drove a quarrel throughhim; but Cedric twisted instantly and rolled the other on his back. Thenin a flash he had pinned him down and had his knee on his breast.
"Now yield thee," Cedric panted. "Thou seest I can slay thee if I will."
"Slay me then," gasped the other. "'Tis better than Lord Gilroy'sbranding iron or hanging noose."
"Ah then, thou'rt Egbert that murdered the dogmaster?"
"No murderer am I; but that will serve me not. Lord Gilroy will have meflayed alive with ne'er a chance to tell my tale."
For a moment Cedric gazed into the bloodshot eyes beneath him. Then hequestioned, slowly:
"Hark thee, my man. If I let thee up, wilt thou sit quiet and tell to usthy tale of this day's doings?"
"Aye," replied the thrall, "though to me 'tis all one. Thou'rt a knightand landlord, and wilt have no ear for the words of a thrall that wearsthe iron collar and is hunted by his master like a sheep-killing hound."
"Of that we shall see," replied Cedric, and, springing up, he releasedhis prisoner and pointed to one of the benches that he might sit beforeus. "Now tell us," he commanded, "why thou did'st beat the dogmastertill he lies near to death."
Egbert, the thrall, took seat as he was bidden, loosed the garment thathad tightened about his throat in the struggle and began:
"Simon, the dogmaster, had ever a grudge toward me,--for what I knownot. And when I went to him three days ago to say that one huge hound ofhis pack had come a roaring at me as I worked in the field, and forcedme to climb on a hay rick to 'scape his jaws, he only laughed and saidthat thrall-meat would be cheaper far for such a valued beast than beefor mutton. This morn, at nine o' the clock, I crossed the hay field atthe back of the kennels, and out leaped this same hound with frightfulgrowls and roars and widely opened jaws as if he would devour meforthwith. No tree or hay-rick was at hand that I could climb; and Iseized me a stone the size of my right fist, and with it felled thebeast so that he lay still enough upon the grass. This was no soonerdone than I heard behind me the running feet of Simon, the dogmaster. Hehad his dog-whip in his hand; and when he came in reach, he struck at mewith all his might. The lash curled about my face, and made the wealsyou still may plainl
y see. Such despite was more than I could bear. Iseized the whip from his hand, and although I knew full well it meantthe branding iron or the gallows, I struck him thrice o'er the head withthe loaded butt he keeps for the savage and unruly ones among his pack.Simon fell down in a heap. And then I saw Lord Gilroy riding toward mefrom a hilltop a furlong off, and made for the woods where his horsecould not follow. They hunted me all morning, but I would have won awayhad'st thou not found me."
When the thrall had ceased speaking it was very still in the lodge.Cedric looked at me with a painful question in his eyes. What my ownlooks answered I know not save from his words that quickly followed.
"Egbert," he cried, "thy act may have been lawless; but we will notjudge thee; and thou shalt not be sent back to the lash or the brandingiron by act of ours. Neither shalt thou longer wear that badge ofslavery about thy neck. Here's that which will sever it."
Striding to the darkened corner he took from among the armorer's tools astout, long-bladed file; then, springing back to Egbert's side, seizedthe iron ring with one hand and set to work upon it with lusty strokes.Soon the band was half cut through; then Cedric dropped the file, and,taking the collar in both his sinewy hands, gave a mighty twist, brokeit apart utterly and flung it as an accursed thing into the blacknessbeneath the armorer bench.
Next he took his cross-bow from the table and thrust it into Egbert'shands.
"Take this for thy safer journeying," he cried, "thou'lt need to travelfast and far for some few days. Then thou may'st take service under sometrue lord as a plowman or a soldier as thou wilt. From this day forththou art a freeman."
Egbert gazed at Cedric with tears streaming down his face. Then he fellon his knees before him; but my comrade raised him almost roughly.
"Up with thee, Egbert! Thou'rt a freeman now, and should do utter homageto none but God. And there's work to do if thou wilt keep thy freedom.Thou must be far away from Gilroy before another morn."
Egbert, among his sobs of joy, could say no word. I found in my pouch alittle purse of gold and gave it him.
"Thou'lt need to buy thy food and lodging as a traveler," I said, "andnot be taken as a prowling varlet. Look to it now."
Then he that had been our prisoner found voice at last and began tomurmur broken words of thanks and to encumber his new found liberty withoaths of lifelong fealty to ourselves. But Cedric again checked him withuplifted hand.
"Hark!" he whispered, "what was that sound?"
For a moment all three of us stood silent and breathless, listening tothe wind in the branches without and the faint snapping of coals on thehearth. Then came the noise again,--a long drawn, baying howl of a houndon a scent.
"Some of our neighbors hunt the deer," I said.
"Nay," answered Cedric quickly, "'tis no deer-hound. 'Tis a far deepernote."
Meanwhile the face of Egbert had turned an ashen gray, and now his limbsshook with very terror.
"'Tis the bloodhounds of Gilroy," he gasped. "My lord ever keeps two orthree for just such use as this. They follow on my track."
Then from a window we saw, a furlong off in the open wood, two hugebrown hounds that ran with noses close to earth and upon a path that ledstraight toward the lodge.
Cedric seized his cross-bow again from Egbert's hands.
"Get thee back within," he commanded, "I will soon stop the coursing ofthese blood beasts."
Egbert leaped through the door again to the inner room; and Cedric,throwing wide the shutter, was taking aim at the foremost of the houndswhen I cried out from behind him:
"Hold! Hold! It is too late. There come the horsemen."
From another point in the wood, not far from where the dogs had emerged,there were now riding toward us half a dozen mounted men. Cedricwithdrew his weapon; and we gazed upon them in utter dismay. Lord Gilroyand Sir Philip Carrington were in the lead, and after them came three orfour stout foresters and last of all, upon an ambling palfrey, noneother than Simon, the dogmaster, with his head bound round and roundwith a great white cloth.
Cedric put away his bow, and, unbarring the door of the lodge, stood onthe step without, spurning away the hounds that sought to enter.
"Good morrow, gentlemen!" he called, full jovially.
"Good morrow, gentlemen _both_," answered Lord Gilroy with a most wickedlaugh.
"Your hunting does not prosper," said Cedric, paying no heed to theaffront conveyed in Gilroy's sneering words.
"How not?"
"Why, it would seem that your hounds have picked up our trail to thelodge here in place of that of their proper quarry, as the best of dogswill do at times."
"Aye," answered Lord Gilroy, still with the evil smile on his face. "Thebest of dogs and men do err at times. And yet, 'tis passing strange theyare so set upon it. See! They course about and about thy little lodgeand will not leave it."
Cedric cast a careless glance at the hounds. Then he said:
"Come messieurs, can ye not alight for a moment and rest within? Icannot offer meat and drink for here we have none; but you may sit upona bench by a fire while your men aid the hounds at finding the trackagain."
Lord Gilroy threw his bridle rein to one of the foresters, leaped downfrom his horse, and strode toward the door; and his nephew did likewise.Simon and the others withdrew to a little distance and dismounted by thebrook where they called the hounds to them.
When our most unwelcome guests were within the lodge, Cedric made hasteto place for them the benches before the fireplace and again lamentedthat the place afforded nothing of refreshment. I made such talk as Imight with both Lord Gilroy and Sir Philip, asking them of the tourneyat Winchester where they had lately ridden, the deer on Gilroy lands andother like matters of no import.
Gilroy's keen gray eyes roved ever about the lodge; and after one or twocourteous replies to my questions, he asked of Cedric:
"Art sure, Grimsby, that that inner room contains no cask or wine-skin?'Twould seem else that thy lodge is but meagerly furnished."
"Aye, 'tis so," answered Cedric at once.
Again our guest glanced keenly at Sir Cedric, while I breathed shortlyindeed. But he said no more; and now I made diversion by asking SirPhilip if 'twas true that the Carringtons are Welsh descended. I knewfull well 'twas not; and was hugely pleased when he denied it hotly andwent on at greatest length to prove his family of pure Norman blood byreciting all the quarterings on the Carrington shield and their originsin the days before the Conquest.
At last Lord Gilroy stood erect and said, to my great and joyful relief:
"Welladay! We must fare on, if ever we are to take that runagate. Thesunbeams already slope far to westward; and 'twill soon be--"
But there his words were of a sudden checked; and he stood staring at apoint on the floor beneath the bench, three yards away. There, wherehalf an hour before all had been deepest shadow, the sloping beam of theafternoon sun now rested, and brought to clear and certain view _theiron collar_.
With an oath he sprang forward and seized it. Holding it up before us,he read in a loud voice the graven words:
"_Egbert, Thrall of William, Lord of Gilroy._"
Cedric stood facing him; and none of us spoke any word. Then Gilroyflung the collar on the floor and burst forth:
"Ah then! 'Tis even as I thought. One churl will help another in anystrait."
At this insult to my comrade, my hand flew to where my good sword shouldhave been; and I ground my teeth to find it not. But Gilroy paid no heedto me. Instantly he sprang forward toward the inner door.
"We'll see what lies within," he shouted.
But Cedric De La Roche was quicker yet. He leaped before the door, andwith a mighty push sent Lord Gilroy half across the room. Then bothGilroy and Carrington drew swords and rushed upon us. By this time I hadgathered my wits, and recalling the goodly weapon at my very back, hadturned and seized the rusted broadsword from above the fireplace. I wasbut just in time to receive the attack of both of them at once; forCedric stooped to reach his cro
ss-bow which rested against the wall,ready drawn and with the bolt he had meant for the hound still ingroove. For a moment I withstood the double attack; then Sir Philip onlywas before me. He fought fiercely enough, forsooth, but in a mostlubberly fashion. Half a dozen strokes and I caught his weapon with atwist I had long practiced and sent it clattering across the floor. Thenwith loud menaces of running him through the body, I drove him before meto the wall where I made him stand with hands above his head. Glancingsidewise, I now beheld the Lord of Gilroy in the same pitiful plight.His weapon also lay on the floor; and Cedric stood before him withcross-bow leveled at his heart.
"Wilt thou slay us then," growled Gilroy, "in unseemly brawl over thisrunagate?"
"Nay," answered Cedric sweetly, "but ye are our prisoners, duly taken.If we grant your lives and arms, you shall give us knightly word toretire from the lands of Grimsby, and give o'er this bloody hunting youwere bent upon."
"That word we give," said Gilroy, shortly.
We instantly lowered our weapons, and, stooping, lifted the swords fromthe floor and returned them to their owners. Simon, the dogmaster,opened the door and thrust in his bandaged head wherein one eye waspurple and swollen with a blow it had received from the whip butt.Behind him stood two of the foresters.
"Return thou, till I call thee," shouted Gilroy furiously.
When they had retired once more to the brookside, our late antagoniststurned again to leave the lodge. At the door Lord Gilroy paused andspake again, slowly and as one that fully weighs his words.
"Our word is given to leave the lands of Grimsby and thus to allow thisthrall to escape. But no promise have we given as to aught else. Mayhapthe King will listen when I send him word at Winchester how his vassalso newly of the fee of Grimsby is bearing himself. Mayhap it will notseem to him quite fitting that one who holds his lands in fee shouldwith deceit and with violence shelter misdoing churls from their lawfulmasters."
_THEN WITH LOUD MENACES I DROVE HIM TO THE WALL WHERE IMADE HIM STAND WITH HANDS ABOVE HIS HEAD_]
I caught my breath in dismay. Such a threat I knew the crafty Gilroyquite capable of carrying out. For myself I had little concern: theMountjoys were too strong in the Western country and too valuable to theKing's cause for any such matter to bring down upon us any seriousmenace. But Cedric was a yeoman born; and many there were to think withspite and envy of his rise to knightly dignity.
Sir Philip now burst forth with a cackling laugh--the first sound thathad come from him since I had him at the wall with his hands o'er hishead.
"Ha, Grimsby!" he jibed, "thou'rt not so great a victor as it seemed.Mayhap the fee of Grimsby will soon be vacant once more."
Then Cedric spoke again, his words being pronounced with the same slowheedfulness with which the Lord of Gilroy had uttered his threat amoment since.
"'Tis true, my lord, that naught prevents thee from sending or carryingthis tale to the King. 'Tis also true--and this mayhap thou hastforgotten--that naught prevents _me_, in the event of thy wishing tocarry this quarrel further, from taking to the King the full account(well known to me though thou hast thought it hidden) of thy doings andthose of the Carringtons during the weeks that followed the King'sreturn to England, and while his traitorous brother, Prince John, withthe aid of certain gentlemen who might have been more loyally employed,strove to keep him from his throne, and even, so 'tis said, to deprivehim of life."
Before the half of this had been spoken the face of Lord Gilroy hadgrown pale as death, and he seemed to shrink a full handsbreadth instature. His nephew gazed from one to the other of us with whitenedcheeks and foolish, open mouth. As soon as Cedric had finished, LordGilroy began in a tone far different from any he had used that day:
"Nay, nay, Grimsby and Mountjoy both! Why _should_ we make of thistrifling despite o'er a runagate thrall such a matter of bittermenacing? In truth, 'twere well should we all forget this day of pettyquarreling and live in neighborly peace henceforth."
"Nothing would better please me," quoth Sir Cedric in reply.
"And thou, Mountjoy?" pursued Lord Gilroy, "what sayest thou?"
"With all my heart," I replied.
Lord Gilroy seemed about to offer his hand in token of ourreconciliation; but mayhap something in our faces stayed him. With ahurried bow he turned once more to the door of the lodge. After him wentSir Philip, reminding me in his shrunken confidence of a rain-drenchedchanticleer. At the brookside, they climbed sullenly upon their horses'backs, and without a word to their followers, spurred away through theforest.
An hour later, Egbert, the freeman, astride a good horse from theGrimsby stables, with cross-bow in hand and gold in pouch, was ridingthrough the twilight on the road to Shrewsbury.
CHAPTER XIII--ON THE ROAD TO RUNNYMEDE
I was in Stamford in the year of the Great Charter of King John. Halfthe knights and barons of all England with a goodly following ofmen-at-arms and yeomanry had been assembled under the banner of ourstout Marshal, Fitz Walter, and had seized by force and arms full manyroyal castles. Now, at the end of a truce which to no avail had beensecured by the Archbishop, we were ready to march towards London tobring to terms our most crafty and tyrannic lord and king. For years hehad dealt in plots and scheming to overreach the great and strong amongthe baronry, and from the weaker seized their lands and goods at willand oft threw their persons into durance to further his gross ends ofgain or vengeance. Now some hundreds of the barons of the North, with adozen or more of us from the West counties and the Welsh Marches, and asprinkling of churchmen, who no less than ourselves had suffered fromthe King's o'erreaching, were gathered in Bermondsey Hall to agree, ifwe might, upon a scroll of the grievances that the King must remedy whenour further assaults should have forced him to sue for peace.
Geoffrey, Lord of Carleton and Teramore, leader of a hundred lances andhalf a thousand bowmen, rose from his seat amid a clamor of disputingvoices and saluted the Marshal and the assembled company.
"I propose, my lords and gentlemen," he said in that high, sweet voiceof his which yet is far-heard and commanding, "the name of Sir Cedric DeLa Roche, Knight of Grimsby and bold defender of our Western Marches,for the fifth and final member of this group. He is a brave man andtrue; and hath, as we often say in the West, a head as well as an arm.He is both soldier and scholar, forsooth, and knoweth more of the Latintongue than any layman among us. You have named Sir Richard of Mountjoyto serve you in this matter because, three months agone, he took theCastle of Tournoy which the King's men were strongly holding withgreater forces than his own and from whence they might have sorelythreatened us. But most of you know not that 'twas Cedric De La Rochewho gained entrance to the castle in disguise, and full well deceivedthe garrison, then at midnight overpowered, gagged and bound thesentinel at a little postern gate, threw it open and admitted theMountjoys. Lacking him and his stratagem we might still be hammering atthe walls of Tournoy and our whole campaign be sore delayed."
"For the Latin we have the Abbot of Moberley," said old Lord Esmond fromhis seat on one of the benches at the right. "What need have we ofanother clerk?"
"The Reverend Abbot," answered Carleton, "will do the cause goodservice, I doubt not, in making clear for our Commissioners thesubstance of old scrolls and charters which they must study, and mayhapin inditing in fair Latin hand the articles which we present to theKing. In his hands we may be sure the interests of his order, andparticularly of the Abbey of Moberley, will not suffer. But I say 'tiswell that we of the baronage have a representative of our own number whocan see that this scroll, for which we risk our lives and fortunes,truly and amply provides for remedy of the wrongs we suffer."
"And _I_ say," shouted Lord Esmond, springing to his feet the instantCarleton had finished, "that if we are to have a representative of ourorder in the inditing of this scroll, as my Lord Carleton says, weshould have a representative indeed. De La Roche is a true man and acapable soldier, as none will deny; but we have here many lords andgentlemen of longer service and of purest N
orman blood. The Knight ofGrimsby, as all may know, is yeoman and Saxon born. Such a man, be henever so learned, must ever think as the folk from whom he sprung andcan never rightly guard our rights and privileges."
For an hour we had debated of our wrongs and the measures that shouldput an end to them, each speaker being fiercely bent upon the thing thatshould lift the oppression that had borne most heavily upon him andcaring little for aught else. But finally 'twas seen that the wholeassembly could accomplish naught but argument and loud bickering, andthat the writing of the scroll must be done by a few chosen men whoshould later bring their work before the whole body of leaders for theirassent and undertaking. Two of the oldest of the northern leaders, theBaron De Longville and the Lord of Esmond, had been first named, thenthe learned and courtier-like Abbot of Moberley who was beneath theinsurgent banner because of the King's high-handed procedure in thematter of Moberley Abbey, where, during the absence on pilgrimage of therightful holder, he had declared the abbacy vacant and conferred it withall its lands upon one of his shameless favorites from Normandy. Amoment before, my own name had been added to the list in recognition ofthe services of the Western lords that had well broken the power of theKing in all their countryside.
Following Lord Esmond's bitter speech, came shouts of approval from someof the other northerners; and it seemed like that my old friend andcomrade would be deprived of the honor which Geoffrey of Carleton hadsought to have conferred upon him. But the venerable De Lacey, long theLord High Constable of England, and still a power in the land, thoughbent and snowy-haired with age, rose slowly to his feet and addressedthe Marshal and the company:
"My lords: 'tis well for those to talk who know whereof they speak.Years agone I knighted Cedric De La Roche for knightliest service at theBattle of the Pass where verily he changed defeat to victory. Since thattime he hath many a time and oft served under me and others, always tothe welfare of the Kingdom and the enhancement of his name. Lord Esmondsays that Cedric De La Roche comes not of noble family. I ask of you, mylords, who made _our_ families noble but some hard-smiting ancestors wehad that served not better, I warrant you, than this man of whom wespeak. And I have seen his lands of Grimsby and the stout and loyal menwho do willingly follow him, and know full well he can think and plan aswell as strike. Finally, my lords, 'tis not the tale of his father's orhis grandfather's deeds but of his very own that should guide thechoosing of a man for a time of need."
At this, still louder shouts burst forth, especially from the youngermen; and some did loudly call Sir Cedric's name, insisting that heserve. When partial silence came once more, the Marshal brought allquestion to an end by announcing all the names of the group and endingwith that of Cedric De La Roche. Then, it being near the supper hour,the company broke up amid cheering and noisy overthrow of benches andthe clamor of many voices in eager talk of the day's events.
The meeting next day of the group that should do the writing of thescroll was scarcely better than that of the whole assembly. Esmond andDe Longville disputed long and loud over exemption from the tax leviedfor the French war; and some suggestions that we others made for theKingdom's better ordering went all unheeded in the din. The Abbot,smiling and crafty as always, patiently awaited the time, so sure tocome, when noise and clamor should exhaust itself, and his ownsmooth-spoken counsel should prevail. He had with him a copy of the oldcharter of the First Henry; and Cedric a draft of some of the laws ofEdward the Confessor which he believed should be included. At last, when'twas seen that we made no headway, my own voice was for a momentlistened to; and 'twas agreed that our two scholars, the Abbot andCedric De La Roche, should work together, making from the ancient lawsand grants, with such additions as were found needful, the articles weshould put before the King.
With all my comradely thought for Cedric, I could but smile as I thoughtof the task that now confronted him. I knew well that he had certaincherished plans with regard to these articles whereby he hoped to gainfor the commons some of the privileges and immunities which he regardedas the natural rights of freeborn men. Often and often he had declaimedto me of these things, and with such eloquence and conviction as wellnigh made me a convert to his party--if that could be called a partywhich had no leaders and no program and scarce a voice save his own. Thecommons knew no other way of protest against the wrongs they sufferedthan such violent and fruitless revolts as that of the churls of DeLancey Manor, with mayhap the killing of a tyrannous noble and the laterhunting down and hanging of the leaders of the mob. Cedric had for yearsmaintained that their natural rights should be assured to them bycharter and not left to the caprice of some careless or greedy overlord.
But the Abbot of Moberley was allied by blood and by early training topowerful Norman families; and 'twas likely that he had but littlesympathy with any such ideas. Handsome, learned and eloquent, he wasaccustomed to win his way among rough and heavy-handed lords and baronsand the little better schooled officials of the royal courts by theskill and grace of his address, and yet more, if all rumors were true,by a readiness to shift his allegiance to any cause in accordance withcircumstance and his own prevailing interest. In truth, he had been bredfor the law as much as for the Church; and his great services to hisorder, which had been amply rewarded with power and place, were thoseperformed in court or council rather than in church or monastery.
At this very time, Lord Geoffrey of Carleton, Cedric and I had reason tosuspect the Abbot of secret communications with the Archbishop, who wasstill nominally of the King's party, and who would perhaps have much todo with the final shaping of our articles if ever we should force theKing to consent to their sealing. 'Twas evident that the rights ofchurchmen would not be overlooked in the final treaty; and, althoughthis too had our approval, we were the more determined that those ofother estates should also be well guarded.
On the morrow, nevertheless, it seemed certain that this co-working oftwo such diverse men would be effective, and that we would soon beprepared to take before the assemblage of leaders the completed scroll.The Abbot and Cedric De La Roche came late to our meeting, and stilldebating hotly on the way; but they brought a list of articles they hadmost cunningly devised for the remedy of the ills of which we mostloudly complained. The Abbot read them to us clearly and with most justaccent, like the learned speaker that he is; and I think the two oldnorthern lords were mightily impressed with the power and worth of wordsso skillfully marshalled. When he had finished we might have then andthere adopted the articles and ended our labors. But at the end of hisreading, the Abbot said:
"My lords, I wish to testify that from Sir Cedric De La Roche I havereceived most welcome assistance in the drawing of this scroll, both inthe reading of the ancient laws and charters and in the devising of newprovisions toward the wise and just ordering of the Kingdom.Nevertheless, upon some minor points we have not yet agreed; and uponthese he wishes to address you."
Sir Cedric rose to his feet, and for a moment looked from one to theother of our company. His fine and open countenance and clear blue eyesand the martial squareness of his broad shoulders would have won himhigh regard in any great assembly. It seemed to me at that moment thatthe youth whom I had first known as a forester of Pelham and whom I hadseen rise to knightly dignities, well deserved, was at the summit of hiscareer when those whose decisions were weighty in the affairs of ourtime awaited his words on a matter of such moment. Baron De Longvillewas looking at Cedric with no unfriendly eye; but the Lord of Esmond,who had wished to adopt the articles at once, frowned with impatience atthe end of the Abbot's speech, and now gazed moodily at the floor.
"My lords," began Cedric clearly, "we have as the twentieth of thesearticles--'Let no Sheriff or Bailiff of the King take horses or carts ofany free man for doing carriage except with his own consent.' Upon thenext page we have the provision--'Let not the body of a baron, knight orother noble person be taken, or imprisoned or disseized, or outlawed orbanished, or in any way destroyed, nor let the King go or send upon himby force, except by the jud
gment of his peers or by the law of theland.' These things are just and right, but to my thinking they go notfar enough. Why should we not deserve the good wishes for the triumph ofour cause and the strong right arms not only of the baronage but of allthe freemen of England? Why should not these provisions be altered toguard their rights also?"
_SIR CEDRIC ROSE TO HIS FEET AND FOR A MOMENT LOOKED FROMONE TO THE OTHER OF OUR COMPANY_]
Lord Esmond raised his head and gazed sharply at Cedric's face.
"And how would'st _thou_ amend them," he growled.
"I would say, in the first instance, 'Let no Sheriff or Bailiff of theKing _nor any other person_ take horses or carts of any free man fordoing carriage except with his own consent.' And in the second, wouldhave the words _a free man_ in place of _baron, knight or other nobleperson_, so that it would read: 'Let not the body of a free man be takenor imprisoned or disseized, or outlawed'--and the rest."
"Mayhap these churls have made thee their spokesman," sneered Esmond.
"Nay," replied Cedric, "I speak for no party, whether high or low, butfor the common good of England."
Lord Esmond turned with sour and vinegary look first to De Longville,then to the Abbot.
"What did I say in the Assembly? This man hath no conception of therights of our order. All his concern is for churls and clowns."
Cedric grew very red, and his hand went to his sword hilt. I sprang upto address our chief, De Longville, and placed myself between the Knightof Grimsby and the fiery old lord from the North.
"My lords," I cried, "we gain nothing by arguments that speedily passinto brawls. Come, let us vote upon these provisions. 'Tis the rightfulway. To-morrow, or the next day at the furthest, we must take our reportto the Assembly; and we should come to agreement."
"'Tis so," replied De Longville, "we waste our time in bickering. ComeEsmond, what say'st thou as to these amendments?"
"I say _nay_," shouted Esmond. "Let the articles even stand as theywere."
"And thou, Most Reverend Abbot?"
"I say _nay_," replied the churchman quietly.
"And thou, Mountjoy?"
"Aye," I answered loudly. "These changes seem to me to take naught fromus and to be well conceived to gain us many friends."
"De La Roche?"
"Aye."
De Longville gazed first at the floor beneath his feet then at theceiling overhead and bent his brows in a painful frown. At length hesaid:
"It seems I have the casting vote. I see little use in these changes,save to pamper churls and thralls that too often already raise theirheads with complaints and demands. Some of them verily believe theymight govern the land as well as their betters. 'Tis a dangeroustendency that must be checked. I say _nay_ also."
Lord Esmond turned toward Cedric with a smile of triumph; and my heartbecame as lead to think of his defeat. But the Knight of Grimsby wasinstantly on his feet again with a new proposal, which to my amaze heuttered with a broad and pleasant smile on his face, such as he mighthave worn had his amendings been received with utmost acclaim.
"Has the thought come to you, my lords, that in this scroll, thus far,we have made no provision for the enforcement of our demands? We dealwith a strong and crafty monarch. Even if he place his seal upon ourdemands, what surety have we that he will adhere to them after ourlevies have been dispersed? He will then be stronger than any one or twoor three of us. How shall we ensure his adherence to the treaty?"
The rest of us gazed at one another in silence. This was a new thought,it seemed, to our whole assembly; and none could deny the seriousness ofthe question. At last De Longville spoke again:
"And hast thou, Grimsby, given thought to this so that thou canst nowproduce a remedy?"
"Not on the instant, my lord; but in the main my thought is this: Inthis instrument itself must be provision for its enforcement. The Kingmust agree that a body of ten or a score or more of us shall be named byourselves; and that these shall be responsible to see that the charterbe not impaired or overridden. In another night I can form the languageto carry this provision into our articles."
Then the Abbot spoke, suggesting that Sir Cedric be instructed to dothis; and finally, on motion of mine, the articles were back referred toCedric and the Abbot with instruction to bring to our meeting, at two o'the clock on the following day, a fair and perfect copy that we mightadopt and place before the assembled leaders.
'Twas then high noon. As we left the Council Hall, Sir Cedric took me bythe arm and insisted that I come to his inn for the midday meal. Therewas in his inviting a special urgency and a look in his eyes from whichI who knew him so well of old instantly gained the knowledge that thiswas no ordinary matter of courtesy but something of vastly greatermoment. So I easily suffered myself to be led toward his quarters; andsoon we were seated at a board that was graced with a goodly roast andall other due refreshment.
When we had something satisfied our hunger, and the old serving man whowaited on us had departed, Cedric bent toward me across the board tosay:
"What sayest thou, Sir Richard, to a ride of a dozen leagues or so and alittle adventure whereby, if Fortune favors, we may do our cause fullloyal service?"
"With all my heart!" I cried, "whither shall we ride, and on whaterrand?"
'Twas two months and more since we had seen activity; and this dull lifeof the camp and the town was little to my liking. Sir Hubert Gillespiehad lately struck a blow for the King by the surprise and capture of twostrong castles in the Midlands that we had thought safely in our hands,while we with our brave array at Stamford consumed the days and ourdwindling substance in idleness.
"'Tis one that's something dangerous, forsooth," replied my friend, "andI doubt much whether our elderly and prudent leaders would approve it."
"Say no more, for Mountjoy is with thee to the hilt. What followersshall I bring, and with what arms?"
"A dozen lusty swordsmen--men still young and light on the feet and withheads to understand a stratagem. Dickon and John o' the Wallfield andElbert the Smith are the right sort. See that every man wears beneathhis outer garment a coat of linked mail and carries a sword no longerthan his arm. Within the hour I will meet thee at the beech wood thouknowest to the south of the town; and will bring a like number of themen of Grimsby. We shall ride hard and far; so look to it, I pray thee,that thy men be well mounted. We may have cause for speed on thehomeward road."
An hour later, with four and twenty proper men, Cedric and I rode out ofthe beech wood, and took the high road toward the south, where, but fiveor six leagues away, the castles and most of the towns were still in thehands of the King's mercenaries. I knew full well that the quest onwhich we were embarked was one that meant our cause's advancement, andwould have willingly trusted Cedric for the rest; but now we drew aheadof our horsemen, and he explained full clearly his design. 'Twas such aplan as only Cedric would have formed, and its outcome in truth,exceeding dubious; but we were comrades of old in many a venture thatwould have been refused by prudent men; and now he had no labor inconvincing me that this was worth the trial.
After an hour's riding, we came to a thick wood, and turned aside inthis into a little glade where we halted to rest our mounts and to bringabout a most surprising change in our appareling. At a word from Cedric,each of the Grimsby men proceeded to withdraw from his saddle bags somegarments which, being unfolded, appeared as the long gray cloaks andhoods of palmers. Each, it seemed, had brought a costume for himself andfor one of the Mountjoy men; and now, in less time than the tellingtakes, we had all laid aside among the bracken any headwear or otherdress that might not properly consort with these, and stood forth as abody of pilgrims in the dress that marked those who had accomplished thetoilsome journey to the Holy Land. Soon we were on the road again, and,save for now and again the rattle of a sword hilt or a robust, laughingword, might not have been distinguished from a cavalcade of devoutreturning pilgrims such as were not uncommon on our roads.
Without mishap we pursued our way into a reg
ion where all the points ofvantage were held by our enemies; and where armed parties, far toostrong for our gainsaying, patrolled the roads or watched them from thehilltops. In the late afternoon we came within sight of the Castle ofMoberley which was held for the King by Sir John Champney with a hundredlances and six score cross-bowmen.
On the left, and but half a mile from the castle, lay the Abbey whereWilliam De Bellair, favorite of the King, renegade cleric and forswornCrusader, held usurping sway over the monks and lay brethren and thefields and vineyards that had been the rightful domain of our associateat Stamford whom we still greeted as the Abbot of Moberley.
At a like distance from Moberley Castle was a fork in the road justbeyond a timbered bridge o'er a stream. There the left-hand track led tothe Abbey and that on the right went straight to the castle gates. Atthe full trot we took the former turning, and soon were calling foradmittance at the Abbey doors.
This, to a devoted band of pilgrims, was not long denied. The gates werethrown ajar, and, leaving two trusty fellows to care for the horses inthe outer courtyard, we passed into the refection hall of the monasteryto pay our respects to this venerable seat of piety and learning. Ourworthy palmers scattered themselves about the great room with its lowtimbered ceiling and mighty fireplace, and engaged in talk with themonks or in reverent examining of the painted series on the walls, thework of an earnest though not too highly skilled lay brother, andsetting forth the story of Joseph and his brethren.
After a little, Sir Cedric, acting as our leader, sent word to the Abbotwhom we had not yet seen, that here was a group of a score and more ofpalmers who now paid their first visit to the far-renowned Abbey ofMoberley and who wished to have speech with the reverend master of thehouse ere they departed. This message, with its accompanyingcompliments, accomplished its intent; and soon William De Bellair, inall the robes of his office, entered the hall from an inner door andseated himself in his great chair on the dais.
If ever the character and history of a man were written on his face,'twas so with the false Abbot of Moberley. My gorge rose within me atthe sight of his red and bloated countenance that told so plainly of alife the very opposite of that led by a true monk and churchman. Hismean and shifty little gray eyes were all but covered with folds andwrinkles of fat, yet quite sufficiently revealed a nature compounded offox and pig. De Bellair was one of a group of dissolute Frenchmen whohad won the favor of the King and the hatred of true Englishmen bysupporting our lawless and grasping sovereign in all his schemes for theseizure of power and wealth. It was against them nearly as much as theKing that our banner of revolt had been raised; and in our Articles ofStamford we had already named a half dozen of the worst of them who mustbe deprived of all offices and banished from the Kingdom. 'Twas no blameto the Church that such miscreants profaned some of her holy offices. Indefiance of her rights of ancient usage, they had been thrust by theirroyal master into the places they disgraced, oftentimes in reward forservices which would not bear recording.
"Reverend Father," said Cedric, bowing low, "we congratulate ourselvesupon our visit to this ancient and honorable abbey; and we have heresome gifts and tokens to bestow upon thee as the head of this worthybrotherhood."
De Bellair bowed deeply in acknowledgment of this greeting. When heraised his head again, what was his amaze and horror to find that hethat had addressed him so respectfully had sprung upon the dais, pulledfrom his shoulders the palmer's cloak, and now rushed upon him as ahound upon his quarry. In an instant the long gray robe was flung o'erthe Abbot's head and arms, and despite his struggles and cries a ropewas speedily bound about his middle, pinioning his hands to his sides.Then he was lifted bodily and hurried toward the courtyard door. Some ofthe monks set up a hideous outcry, and one or two sought to interceptthose who carried the bound and struggling Abbot; but where they thoughtto deal with unarmed pilgrims, they found themselves confronted with twoand twenty stout fellows each of whom had drawn from beneath his flowingcloak a short-bladed sword and flourished it in most menacing way. Theyfell back before us, overawed, and understanding nothing of what hadpassed. Only one of the monastery people did preserve his wits at thisamazing juncture, and this an acolyte youth of sixteen years. Slippingout of the hall and through the rear of the Abbey, he ran, as weafterwards learned to our cost, with might and main to take the news ofthis mad foray to the castle's governor.
In the outer yard we spent some time in adjusting more firmly ourcaptive's bonds and in cutting slits through the cloak that bound hishead so as to allow him to breathe but nowise to see and scarcely tomake himself heard with calls for help. Then hoisting him withdifficulty (for he was a gross, fat man) upon a stout charger whereonone of our own men rode behind him, we turned away from the Abbey androde at such speed as we might on the road by which we came.
Our progress was slow at the first, for our prisoner sat most unevenlyin his bonds; and we had no mind to let him fall by the way. And we hadno more than fairly set out on the road when he began to shout andhalloo in such wise that Dickon o' the Wallfield, who rode behind him,was fain to bring him to understanding of his hopeless plight by a sharpprick from his poniard's point. Thereafter he was silent; and we madebetter way; but withal most precious time had been lost. The night hadalready fallen, and with another quarter hour we might have won safelyaway. But as we approached the fork of the road we heard a thunder ofhoofs coming from the castle. The riders were nearer the joining thanwe, and ere we could gain the bridge we heard their horses upon it andknew that Sir John Champney's men were drawing up in battle array tomeet us. As we surmised even then, Sir John had divided the force thathe so hastily summoned to punish the supposed outlaws who seized theAbbot for a ransom, and had sent one party straight to the Abbey and ledthe other to this point to intercept us.
In the light from the great moon now rising, we could see that theirnumbers were more than twice our own. They were variously armed, as wasto be expected with men who had been so abruptly summoned forth; butthere were lances and steel caps enow and some had coats of mail. Wesorely wished for the good broadswords we left behind at Stamford or thecross-bows with which a dozen of our party were so skilled. But now wasnot time for hesitation or for choosing of courses. Well we knew that ina trice the other party, riding from the Abbey gates, would be on ourtrack and we would be taken in front and rear. With a mighty shout werode down upon the bridge, trusting all to the darkness and the fury ofour attack.
In a moment we were in the midst of a bloody melee on the bridge. Ourmen thrust back their hampering robes, and hewed and slashed with deadlyeffect; but those opposing us were no weaklings nor novices in war. SirJohn Champney slew two of our men with downright broadsword strokes andanother was pierced through throat by a lance. I rode in a closer pressof fighting than I had seen since the Battle of the Pass; and once ortwice was near beaten from my horse, though some of those that rainedtheir blows on me fared worse indeed. Then Cedric came face to face withSir John Champney, received a broadsword stroke on his uplifted,mail-clad arm, and countered with a blow that sent his enemy to earth.
Instantly the cry arose that Sir John was slain. Most of his followerswere French and Flemish mercenaries; and now they melted away before us,fleeing to the fields on either side of the bridge or leaping to theshallow waters below. We paused long enough to learn that our men whohad fallen were past all help; then rode forward at a gallop up themoon-lighted way, with our prisoner still safely bound and in our midst.
By the eleventh hour we entered again the wood where we had transformedourselves to palmers; and 'twas the work of but a moment to change usback to knights and men-at-arms. By midnight we were safely in the townand had our prisoner properly bestowed. Then Cedric and I parted for thenight,--I to go to my bed, and he, as the morrow showed, to labor bycandle-light all through the hours of darkness.
At nine the next morning I was by appointment at Cedric's lodging, andfound that he had just despatched a messenger to the true Abbot ofMoberley with an urgent request that he
come at once since mostimportant news awaited him from the Abbey itself. This message speedilyaccomplished its object, and the Abbot, standing not on ceremony, camehurrying to the lodgings.
_WITH A MIGHTY SHOUT, WE RODE DOWN UPON THE BRIDGE,TRUSTING ALL TO THE DARKNESS AND THE FURY OF OUR ATTACK_]
We greeted him most courteously, and, when our guest was duly andcomfortably seated, Cedric stated that riders had come in from Moberleythe night before with the news of a most surprising happening. A band ofa score or more of pilgrims returning from the Holy Land had entered theAbbey, and, doubtless being wroth at William De Bellair because he hadforsworn himself by abandoning his vow to go an Crusade for the recoveryof the Holy Sepulcher, had seized and bound him, and, overawing themonastery with weapons, had carried him away by force.
The Abbot listened to this tale of violence with sparkling eyes and withno hint of censure for those who had so roughly laid hands upon a clericdignitary. When it was finished, indeed, he could scarce restrain hisglee. Rising and smiting the table roundly with his hand, he cried:
"Ha! Well served! Well served indeed, for a creature that calls himselfmonk and abbot, forsooth, when profit is that way to be gained but whoforgets all monkish obligations when a layman's way of living betterserves him! The palmers are right indeed, and I devoutly hope they maykeep him for aye as far from Moberley Abbey as his conduct hath everbeen from that of a true churchman."
Cedric then resumed, in slow and measured voice:
"It so happens, Reverend Abbot, that I have several friends among thesepalmers, and to some extent they rely on me for advice in this matter."
"Ah! Is it so indeed?" questioned the Abbot, eagerly. "Then I trust thatthou, as a true friend of the Church and her rightful servitors, hastgiven advice to hold this fellow they have taken--at least till the Kingbe brought to terms and our brotherhoods be free again to fill theiroffices without dictation."
Cedric slowly shook his head.
"Nay, my advice has not yet been given. 'Twill require some furthermeditation to be sure that 'tis wisely bestowed. But, Reverend Abbot, ifthou wilt but climb the stair that I shall show thee here and applythine eye to a hole in the wall at the right, near the top, I warrantthee a sight well worth thy pains."
So saying, Cedric rose and throwing open a small door at the rear of theroom, indicated a dim and curving staircase that rose beyond it. TheAbbot, after a searching glance at his host as though he feared somestratagem, quickly mounted, looking eagerly the while for the eye-holein the wall. Both of us remained below; and Cedric, turning to a cabinetwithdrew from it and placed upon the table a huge scroll of many sheetsof freshly-written parchment.
A moment later, the churchman returned with brightly glowing face andtwinkling eyes, and when the stairway door was closed again, exclaimed:
"Sir Cedric De La Roche, thou'rt a true friend to the Church, and thyservices shall be well remembered. 'Tis William De Bellair, beyond alldoubt, who sits in yonder inner room, and 'tis two archers of Grimsbywho guard him. Full well do I know who led that band of palmers; and Isay again thy fortunes shall not suffer for it."
Cedric bowed and smiled.
"Ah well! 'Tis neither here nor there who led the palmers or whetherthey acted wholly of their own impulse. The thing of greatest moment nowis this scroll of the articles which I have here in fair copy. Read it,I pray thee, and see whether thou wilt give thy voice for its adoption.Thou wilt see that I have introduced the provision for five and twentybarons who shall enforce the charter and also have written in some othermatters that seem to us of moment."
The Abbot took the scroll and quickly conned the pages whereon he andCedric had on the first day of their labors come to full agreement. Thenhe came to the twentieth article, and ceasing reading, looked up atCedric sharply.
"Thou hast here the wording for which thou did'st argue yesterday."
"Aye, 'tis so," answered Cedric, grimly, "read on."
The Abbot complied, but quickly came to another stop.
"Let not the body of _a free man_ be taken or imprisoned--" he read,"that again is the very language that was yesterday rejected."
Cedric nodded in assent. "Read on," he said.
For some pages the Abbot went on in silence. Then he uttered anexclamation of surprise, and paused to read again--this time aloud--anarticle that appeared near the end of the scroll.
"All the aforesaid customs and liberties which the King hath conceded,to be held in the Kingdom as far as concerns his relations to his men,all in the realm, as well ecclesiastics as laity, _shall on their partobserve toward their men_."
The Abbot leaped to his feet, his face red with wrath.
"What means this, De La Roche? Would thou have all these things forwhich we risk our lives and lands extended to every churl and varlet inthe Kingdom?"
"Aye," answered Cedric steadily. "And if thou'lt look abroad through ourcamp, thou'lt see some thousands of those same churls and yeomen that dorisk their lives in this cause as much as thou or me."
The Abbot shook his head with impatience.
"'Tis beyond reason, De La Roche. I cannot give my word for it."
Cedric for a moment gazed out of window. Then he said to me:
"This keeping in durance of an ecclesiastic who was appointed to hisplace by the King and moreover stands high in his favor, is a difficultand dangerous business. 'Twill be better if we take him to the town'sedge and turn him loose to find his way back whence he came."
The Abbot gazed at Cedric with parted lips and bated breath while onemight have told two score. Then of a sudden he flung the parchment onthe table and laughed full loud and long.
"Thou hast won, De La Roche. I yield me. Thou hast won and fairly.Thou'rt a most persuading speaker, I'll be bound. I will go before ourgroup this day, and make them adopt these articles whether they will orno. Then to-morrow I will speak for them before the whole assembly. Thoushalt see what I can do when I am well put to it. Depend upon it, thearticles of that very scroll that lies before us will be the ones ourparty will present to the King. And thou, on thy part, shall have duewatch and ward kept of thy prisoner, and see to it that he by no meansgains his liberty until the King hath sealed our charter and pledgedhimself to interfere no more in our clerical elections."
The Abbot was as good as his word. That afternoon he delivered such anaddress in eulogy of the articles as they appeared in this latest scrollas I had never heard before on any subject whatsoever. He marshalled allthe arguments Cedric had used together with many more he had not thoughton. His speech was filled with grace and eloquence and was of anenthusiasm that carried all away. He showed beyond all doubt the powerthat would accrue to our party through this inclusion of the rights ofthe commonalty in our charter. When he was done De Longville as stronglyfavored these provisions in the articles as on the day before he hadopposed them. Lord Esmond grimly held his peace, though oft shaking hisgray head in denial, and soon the scroll had been adopted by our vote offour to one. The following day our ardent champion made a yet moreeloquent speech before the full assembly; and the articles were approvedby acclamation.
All know the remainder of the tale of Magna Charta,--how the King, threedays later, at Brackley where the articles were read to him, refusedthem with an oath, furiously declaring that the barons might as wellhave asked of him his kingdom,--how we resumed the war forthwith and thetaking of his castles,--how the gates of London were opened to us andthe King was at length brought to terms at Runnymede. There again 'twasCedric De La Roche and the Abbot of Moberley who conferred with theArchbishop and the other commissioners of the King and satisfiedthemselves and us that the completed scroll that received the royal sealwas to the same effect as our articles of Stamford and Brackley.
And now King John is dead, and little lamented, and a wiser sovereignrules the land. Already men begin to see how great a thing was done atRunnymede. 'Tis said that the Great Charter will be for centuries tocome the basis of our English law, since it affirms with equal voice therigh
ts of all our three estates,--the nobility, the clergy and thecommons. It seems to me that later generations will find in itsprovisions the authority and the suggestion for many a reform that wedare not yet attempt, and that freer and happier men may date thebeginning of better things to our bitter struggle with King John. If sobe, may they think not overmuch of us that were noble born and foughtfor lordly privilege, but may they never forget that in our day therewere true men of lowly birth who risked their all for the rights oftheir fellows. Of these was none more worthy of honor than he whom I amever proud to call my friend and comrade,--Cedric, the Forester ofPelham.
THE END Transcriber's Notes for Cedric, the Forester:
Differences from modern spelling and modern construction have not been changed.
Variations in hyphenation and inconsistencies in spelling were retained.
Punctuation inconsistencies and typographical errors were silently corrected.
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