Sir Nigel

  Under cover of night the wounded men were lifted from the ditch andcarried back, whilst pickets of archers were advanced to the verygate so that none should rebuild it. Nigel, sick at heart over his ownfailure, the death of his prisoner and his fears for Aylward, crept backinto the camp, but his cup was not yet full, for Knolles was waiting forhim with a tongue which cut like a whip-lash. Who was he, a raw squire,that he should lead an attack without orders? See what his crazy knighterrantry had brought about. Twenty men had been destroyed by it andnothing gained. Their blood was on his head. Chandos should hear of hisconduct. He should be sent back to England when the castle had fallen.

  Such were the bitter words of Knolles, the more bitter because Nigelfelt in his heart that he had indeed done wrong, and that Chandos wouldhave said the same though, perchance, in kinder words. He listened insilent respect, as his duty was, and then having saluted his leaderhe withdrew apart, threw himself down amongst the bushes, and wept thehottest tears of his life, sobbing bitterly with his face between hishands. He had striven hard, and yet everything had gone wrong with him.He was bruised, burned and aching from head to foot. Yet so high is thespirit above the body that all was nothing compared to the sorrow andshame which racked his soul.

  But a little thing changed the current of his thoughts and brought somepeace to his mind. He had slipped off his mail gauntlets, and as hedid so his fingers lighted upon the tiny bangle which Mary had fastenedthere when they stood together upon St. Catharine's Hill on theGuildford Road. He remembered the motto curiously worked in filigree ofgold. It ran: "Fais ce que dois, adviegne que pourra--c'est commande auchevalier."

  The words rang in his weary brain. He had done what seemed right, comewhat might. It had gone awry, it is true; but all things human may dothat. If he had carried the castle, he felt that Knolles would haveforgiven and forgotten all else. If he had not carried it, it was nofault of his. No man could have done more. If Mary could see she wouldsurely have approved. Dropping into sleep, he saw her dark face, shiningwith pride and with pity, stooping over him as he lay. She stretched outher hand in his dream and touched him on the shoulder. He sprang up andrubbed his eyes, for fact had woven itself into dream in the strange waythat it does, and some one was indeed leaning over him in the gloom, andshaking him from his slumbers. But the gentle voice and soft touch ofthe Lady Mary had changed suddenly to the harsh accents and rough gripof Black Simon, the fierce Norfolk man-at-arms.

  "Surely you are the Squire Loring," he said, peering close to his facein the darkness.

  "I am he. What then?"

  "I have searched through the camp for you, but when I saw the greathorse tethered near these bushes, I thought you would be found hard by.I would have a word with you."

  "Speak on."

  "This man Aylward the bowman was my friend, and it is the nature thatGod has given me to love my friends even as I hate my foes. He is alsothy servant, and it has seemed to me that you love him also."

  "I have good cause so to do."

  "Then you and I, Squire Loring, have more reason to strive on his behalfthan any of these others, who think more of taking the castle than ofsaving those who are captives within. Do you not see that such a man asthis robber lord would, when all else had failed him, most surely cutthe throats of his prisoners at the last instant before the castle fell,knowing well that come what might he would have short shrift himself? Isthat not certain?"

  "By Saint Paul! I had not thought of it."

  "I was with you, hammering at the inner gate," said Simon, "and yetonce when I thought that it was giving way I said in my heart: 'Good-by,Samkin! I shall never see you more.' This Baron has gall in hissoul, even as I have myself, and do you think that I would give up myprisoners alive, if I were constrained so to do? No, no; had we won ourway this day it would have been the death-stroke for them all."

  "It may be that you are right, Simon," said Nigel, "and the thought ofit should assuage our grief. But if we cannot save them by taking thecastle, then surely they are lost indeed."

  "It may be so, or it may not," Simon answered slowly. "It is in my mindthat if the castle were taken very suddenly, and in such a fashion thatthey could not foresee it, then perchance we might get the prisonersbefore they could do them scathe."

  Nigel bent forward eagerly, his hand on the soldier's arm.

  "You have some plan in your mind, Simon. Tell me what it is."

  "I had wished to tell Sir Robert, but he is preparing the assault forto-morrow and will not be turned from his purpose. I have indeed a plan,but whether it be good or not I cannot say until I have tried it. Butfirst I will tell you what put it into my thoughts. Know then that thismorning when I was in yonder ditch I marked one of their men upon thewall. He was a big man with a white face, red hair and a touch of SaintAnthony's fire upon the cheek."

  "But what has this to do with Aylward?"

  "I will show you. This evening after the assault I chanced to walk withsome of my fellows, round yonder small fort upon the knoll to see if wecould spy a weak spot in it. Some of them came to the wall to curse us,and among them whom should I see but a big man with a white face, redhair and a touch of Anthony's fire upon his cheek? What make you ofthat, Squire Nigel?"

  "That this man had crossed from the castle to the fort."

  "In good sooth, it must indeed be so. There are not two suchken-speckled men in the world. But if he crossed from the castle to thefort, it was not above the ground, for our own people were between."

  "By Saint Paul! I see your meaning!" cried Nigel. "It is in your mindthat there is a passage under the earth from one to the other."

  "I am well sure of it."

  "Then if we should take the small fort we may pass down this tunnel, andso carry the great castle also."

  "Such a thing might happen," said Simon, "and yet it is dangerous also,for surely those in the castle would hear our assault upon the fort andso be warned to bar the passage against us, and to slay the prisonersbefore we could come."

  "What then is your rede?"

  "Could we find where the tunnel lay, Squire Nigel, I know not what is toprevent us from digging down upon it and breaking into it so that bothfort and castle are at our mercy before either knows that we are there."

  Nigel clapped his hands with joy. "'Fore God!" he cried. "It is a mostnoble plan! But alas! Simon, I see not how we can tell the course ofthis passage or where we should dig."

  "I have peasants yonder with spades," said Simon. "There are two of myfriends, Harding of Barnstable and West-country John who are waiting forus with their gear. If you will come to lead us, Squire Nigel, we areready to venture our bodies in the attempt."

  What would Knolles say in case they failed? The thought flashed throughNigel's mind, but another came swiftly behind it. He would not venturefurther unless he found hopes of success. And if he did venture furtherhe would put his life upon it. Giving that, he made amends for allerrors. And if on the other hand success crowned their efforts, thenKnolles would forgive his failure at the gateway. A minute later, everydoubt banished from his mind, he was making his way through the darknessunder the guidance of Black Simon.

  Outside the camp the two other men-at-arms were waiting for them, andthe four advanced together. Presently a little group of figures loomedup in the darkness. It was a cloudy night, and a thin rain was fallingwhich obscured both the castle and the fort; but a stone had been placedby Simon in the daytime which assured that they were between the two.

  "Is blind Andreas there?" asked Simon.

  "Yes, kind sir, I am here," said a voice.

  "This man," said Simon, "was once rich and of good repute, but he wasbeggared by this robber lord, who afterwards put out his eyes so that hehas lived for many years in darkness at the charity of others."

  "How can he help us in our enterprise if he be indeed blind?" askedNigel.

  "It is for that very reason, fair lord, that he can be of greaterservice than any other man," Simon answered; "for it often happens thatwhen a m
an has lost a sense the good God will strengthen those thatremain. Hence it is that Andreas has such ears that he can hear the sapin the trees or the cheep of the mouse in its burrow. He has come tohelp us to find the tunnel."

  "And I have found it," said the blind man proudly. "Here I have placedmy staff upon the line of it. Twice as I lay there with my ear to theground I have heard footsteps pass beneath me."

  "I trust you make no mistake, old man," said Nigel.

  For answer the blind man raised his staff and smote twice upon theground, once to the right and once to the left. The one gave a dullthud, the other a hollow boom.

  "Can you not hear that?" he asked. "Will you ask me now if I make amistake?"

  "Indeed, we are much beholden to you!" cried Nigel. "Let the peasantsdig then, and as silently as they may. Do you keep your ear upon theground, Andreas, so that if anyone pass beneath us we shall be warned."

  So, amid the driving rain, the little group toiled in the darkness.The blind man lay silent, flat upon his face, and twice they heard hiswarning hiss and stopped their work, whilst some one passed beneath. Inan hour they had dug down to a stone arch which was clearly the outerside of the tunnel roof. Here was a sad obstacle, for it might take longto loosen a stone, and if their work was not done by the break of daythen their enterprise was indeed hopeless. They loosened the mortar witha dagger, and at last dislodged one small stone which enabled them toget at the others. Presently a dark hole blacker than the night aroundthem yawned at their feet, and their swords could touch no bottom to it.They had opened the tunnel.

  "I would fain enter it first," said Nigel. "I pray you to lower medown." They held him to the full length of their arms and then lettinghim drop they heard him land safely beneath them. An instant later theblind man started up with a low cry of alarm.

  "I hear steps coming," said he. "They are far off, but they drawnearer."

  Simon thrust his head and neck down the hole. "Squire Nigel," hewhispered, "can you hear me?"

  "I can hear you, Simon."

  "Andreas says that some one comes."

  "Then cover over the hole," came the answer. "Quick, I pray you, coverit over!"

  A mantle was stretched across it, so that no glimmer of light shouldwarn the new-comer. The fear was that he might have heard, the soundof Nigel's descent. But soon it was clear that he had not done so, forAndreas announced that he was still advancing. Presently Nigel couldhear the distant thud of his feet. If he bore a lantern all was lost.But no gleam of light appeared in the black tunnel, and still thefootsteps drew nearer.

  Nigel breathed a prayer of thanks to all his guardian saints as hecrouched close to the slimy wall and waited breathless, his daggerin his hand. Nearer yet and nearer came the steps. He could hear thestranger's coarse breathing in the darkness. Then as he brushed pastNigel bounded upon him with a tiger spring. There was one gasp ofastonishment, and not a sound more, for the Squire's grip was on theman's throat and his body was pinned motionless against the wall.

  "Simon! Simon!" cried Nigel loudly.

  The mantle was moved from the hole.

  "Have you a cord? Or your belts linked together may serve."

  One of the peasants had a rope, and Nigel soon felt it dangling againsthis hand. He listened and there was no sound in the passage. For aninstant he released his captive's throat. A torrent of prayers andentreaties came forth. The man was shaking like a leaf in the wind.Nigel pressed the point of his dagger against his face and dared him toopen his lips. Then he slipped the rope beneath his arms and tied it.

  "Pull him up!" he whispered, and for an instant the gray glimmer abovehim was obscured.

  "We have him, fair sir," said Simon.

  "Then drop me the rope and hold it fast."

  A moment later Nigel stood among the group of men who had gathered roundtheir captive. It was too dark to see him, and they dare not strikeflint and steel.

  Simon passed his hand roughly over him and felt a fat clean-shavenface, and a cloth gabardine which hung to the ankles. "Who are you?" hewhispered. "Speak the truth and speak it low, if you would ever speakagain."

  The man's teeth chattered in his head with cold and fright. "I speak noEnglish," he murmured.

  "French, then," said Nigel.

  "I am a holy priest of God. You court the ban of holy Church when youlay hands upon me. I pray you let me go upon my way, for there arethose whom I would shrive and housel. If they should die in sin, theirdamnation is upon you."

  "How are you called then?"

  "I am Dom Peter de Cervolles."

  "De Cervolles, the arch-priest, he who heated the brazier when theyburned out my eyes," cried old Andreas. "Of all the devils in hell thereis none fouler than this one. Friends, friends, if I have done aughtfor you this night, I ask but one reward, that ye let me have my will ofthis man."

  But Nigel pushed the old man back. "There is no time for this," he said."Now hark you, priest--if priest indeed you be--your gown and tonsurewill not save you if you play us false, for we are here of a set purposeand we will go forward with it, come what may. Answer me and answer metruly or it will be an ill night for you. In what part of the Castledoes this tunnel enter?"

  "In the lower cellar."

  "What is at the end?"

  "An oaken door."

  "Is it barred?"

  "Yes, it is barred."

  "How would you have entered?"

  "I would have given the password."

  "Who then would have opened?"

  "There is a guard within."

  "And beyond him?"

  "Beyond him are the prison cells and the jailers."

  "Who else would be afoot?"

  "No one save a guard at the gate and another on the battlement."

  "What then is the password?"

  The man was silent.

  "The password, fellow!"

  The cold points of two daggers pricked his throat; but still he wouldnot speak.

  "Where is the blind man?" asked Nigel. "Here, Andreas, you can have himand do what you will with him."

  "Nay, nay," the priest whimpered. "Keep him off me. Save me from blindAndreas! I will tell you everything."

  "The password then, this instant?"

  "It is 'Benedicite!'"

  "We have the password, Simon," cried Nigel. "Come then, let us on to thefarther end. These peasants will guard the priest, and they will remainhere lest we wish to send a message."

  "Nay, fair sir, it is in my mind that we can do better," said Simon."Let us take the priest with us, so that he who is within may know hisvoice."

  "It is well thought of," said Nigel, "and first let us pray together,for indeed this night may well be our last."

  He and the three men-at-arms knelt in the rain and sent up their simpleorisons, Simon still clutching tight to his prisoner's wrist.

  The priest fumbled in his breast and drew something forth. "It is theheart of the blessed confessor Saint Enogat," said he. "It may be thatit will ease and assoil your souls if you would wish to handle it."

  The four Englishmen passed the flat silver case from hand to hand, eachpressing his lips devoutly upon it. Then they rose to their feet. Nigelwas the first to lower himself down the hole; then Simon; then thepriest, who was instantly seized by the other two. The men-at-armsfollowed them. They had scarcely moved away from the hole when Nigelstopped.

  "Surely some one else came after us," said he.

  They listened, but no whisper or rustle came from behind them. For aminute they paused and then resumed their journey through the dark. Itseemed a long, long way, though in truth it was but a few hundred yardsbefore they came to a door with a glimmer of yellow light around it,which barred their passage. Nigel struck upon it with his hand.

  There was the rasping of a bolt and then a loud voice "Is that you,priest?"

  "Yes, it is I," said the prisoner in a quavering voice. "Open, Arnold!"

  The voice was enough. There was no question of passwords. The door swunginward, and in an in
stant the janitor was cut down by Nigel and Simon.So sudden and so fierce was the attack that save for the thud ofhis body no sound was heard. A flood of light burst outward into thepassage, and the Englishmen stood with blinking eyes in its glare.

  In front of them lay a stone-flagged corridor, across which lay thedead body of the janitor. It had doors on either side of it, and anothergrated door at the farther end. A strange hubbub, a kind of low droningand whining filled the air. The four men were standing listening, fullof wonder as to what this might mean, when a sharp cry came from behindthem. The priest lay in a shapeless heap upon the ground, and the bloodwas rushing from his gaping throat. Down the passage, a black shadow inthe yellow light, there fled a crouching man, who clattered with a stickas he went.

  "It is Andreas," cried West-country Will. "He has slain him."

  "Then it was he that I heard behind us," said Nigel. "Doubtless he wasat our very heels in the darkness. I fear that the priest's cry has beenheard."

  "Nay," said Simon, "there are so many cries that one more may well pass.Let us take this lamp from the wall and see what sort of devil's den wehave around us."

  They opened the door upon the right, and so horrible a smell issued fromit that they were driven back from it. The lamp which Simon held forwardshowed a monkeylike creature mowing and grimacing in the corner, man orwoman none could tell, but driven crazy by loneliness and horror. In theother cell was a graybearded man fettered to the wall, looking blanklybefore him, a body without a soul, yet with life still in him, for hisdull eyes turned slowly in their direction. But it was from behind thecentral door at the end of the passage that the chorus of sad cries camewhich filled the air.

  "Simon," said Nigel, "before we go farther we will take this outer doorfrom its hinges. With it we will block this passage so that at the worstwe may hold our ground here until help comes. Do you back to the campas fast as your feet can bear you. The peasants will draw you upwardthrough the hole. Give my greetings to Sir Robert and tell him that thecastle is taken without fail if he comes this way with fifty men. Saythat we have made a lodgment within the walls. And tell him also, Simon,that I would counsel him to make a stir before the gateway so that theguard may be held there whilst we make good our footing behind them. Go,good Simon, and lose not a moment!"

  But the man-at-arms shook his head. "It is I who have brought you here,fair sir, and here I bide through fair and foul. But you speak wiselyand well, for Sir Robert should indeed be told what is going forward nowthat we have gone so far. Harding, do you go with all speed and bear thegentle Nigel's message."

  Reluctantly the man-at-arms sped upon his errand. They could hear theracing of his feet and the low jingle of his harness until they diedaway in the tunnel. Then the three companions approached the door at theend. It was their intention to wait where they were until help shouldcome, but suddenly amid the babel of cries within there broke forth anEnglish voice, shouting in torment.

  "My God!" it cried, "I pray you, comrades, for a cup of water, as youhope for Christ's mercy!"

  A shout of laughter and the thud of a heavy blow followed the appeal.

  All the hot blood rushed to Nigel's head at the sound, buzzing in hisears and throbbing in his temples. There are times when the fiery heartof a man must overbear the cold brain of a soldier. With one bound hewas at the door, with another he was through it, the men-at-arms athis heels. So strange was the scene before them that for an instant allthree stood motionless with horror and surprise.

  It was a great vaulted chamber, brightly lit by many torches. At thefarther end roared a great fire. In front of it three naked men werechained to posts in such a way that flinch as they might they couldnever get beyond the range of its scorching heat. Yet they were so farfrom it that no actual burn would be inflicted if they could but keepturning and shifting so as continually to present some fresh portion oftheir flesh to the flames. Hence they danced and whirled in front of thefire, tossing ceaselessly this way and that within the compass of theirchains, wearied to death, their protruding tongues cracked and blackenedwith thirst, but unable for one instant to rest from their writhings andcontortions.

  Even stranger was the sight at each side of the room, whence came thatchorus of groans which had first struck upon the ears of Nigel and hiscompanions. A line of great hogsheads were placed alongside the walls,and within each sat a man, his head protruding from the top. As theymoved within there was a constant splashing and washing of water. Thewhite wan faces all turned together as the door flew open, and a cryof amazement and of hope took the place of those long-drawn moans ofdespair.

  At the same instant two fellows clad in black, who had been seated witha flagon of wine between them at a table near the fire, sprang wildlyto their feet, staring with blank amazement at this sudden inrush. Thatinstant of delay deprived them of their last chance of safety. Midwaydown the room was a flight of stone steps which led to the main door.

  Swift as a wildcat Nigel bounded toward it and gained the steps a strideor two before the jailers. They turned and made for the other which ledto the passage, but Simon and his comrades were nearer to it than they.Two sweeping blows, two dagger thrusts into writhing figures, and theruffians who worked the will of the Butcher lay dead upon the floor oftheir slaughter-house.

  Oh, the buzz of joy and of prayer from all those white lips! Oh, thelight of returning hope in all those sunken weary eyes! One wild shoutwould have gone up had not Nigel's outstretched hands and warning voicehushed them to silence.

  He opened the door behind him. A curving newel staircase wound upwardinto the darkness. He listened, but no sound came down. There was a keyin the outer lock of the iron door. He whipped it out and turned it onthe inner side. The ground that they had gained was safe. Now they couldturn to the relief of these poor fellows beside them. A few strong blowsstruck off the irons and freed the three dancers before the fire. With ahusky croak of joy, they rushed across to their comrades' water-barrels,plunged their heads in like horses, and drank and drank and drank. Thenin turn the poor shivering wretches were taken out of the barrels, theirskins bleached and wrinkled with long soaking. Their bonds were tornfrom them; but, cramped and fixed, their limbs refused to act, and theytumbled and twisted upon the floor in their efforts to reach Nigel andto kiss his hand.

  In a corner lay Aylward, dripping from his barrel and exhausted withcold and hunger. Nigel ran to his side and raised his head. The jug ofwine from which the two jailers had drunk still stood upon their table.The Squire placed it to the archer's lips and he took a hearty pull atit.

  "How is it with you now, Aylward?"

  "Better, Squire, better, but may I never touch water again as long as Ilive! Alas! poor Dicon has gone, and Stephen also--the life chilled outof them. The cold is in the very marrow of my bones. I pray you, let melean upon your arm as far as the fire, that I may warm the frozen bloodand set it running in my veins once more."

  A strange sight it was to see these twenty naked men crouching in ahalf-circle round the fire with their trembling hands extended to theblaze. Soon their tongues at least were thawed, and they poured out thestory of their troubles with many a prayer and ejaculation to the saintsfor their safe delivery. No food had crossed their lips since they hadbeen taken. The Butcher had commanded them to join his garrison and toshoot upon their comrades from the wall. When they refused he had setaside three of them for execution.

  The others had been dragged to the cellar, whither the leering tyranthad followed them. Only one question he had asked them, whether theywere of a hot-blooded nature or of a cold. Blows were showered upon themuntil they answered. Three had said cold, and had been condemned to thetorment of the fire. The rest who had said hot were delivered up to thetorture of the water-cask. Every few hours this man or fiend had comedown to exult over their sufferings and to ask them whether they wereready yet to enter his service. Three had consented and were gone. Butthe others had all of them stood firm, two of them even to their death.

  Such was the tale t
o which Nigel and his comrades listened whilstthey waited impatiently for the coming of Knolles and his men. Manyan anxious look did they cast down the black tunnel, but no glimmer oflight and no clash of steel came from its depths. Suddenly, however, aloud and measured sound broke upon their ears. It was a dull metallicclang, ponderous and slow, growing louder and ever louder--the tread ofan armored man. The poor wretches round the fire, all unnerved by hungerand suffering, huddled together with wan, scared faces, their eyes fixedin terror on the door.

  "It is he!" they whispered. "It is the Butcher himself!"

  Nigel had darted to the door and listened intently. There were nofootfalls save those of one man. Once sure of that, he softly turnedthe key in the lock. At the same instant there came a bull's bellow fromwithout.

  "Ives! Bertrand!" cried the voice. "Can you not hear me coming, youdrunken varlets? You shall cool your own heads in the water-casks, youlazy rascals! What, not even now! Open, you dogs. Open, I say!"

  He had thrust down the latch, and with a kick he flung the door wideand rushed inward. For an instant he stood motionless, a statue of dullyellow metal, his eyes fixed upon the empty casks and the huddle ofnaked men. Then with the roar of a trapped lion, he turned, but the doorhad slammed behind him, and Black Simon, with grim figure and sardonicface, stood between.

  The Butcher looked round him helplessly, for he was unarmed save for hisdagger. Then his eyes fell upon Nigel's roses.

  "You are a gentleman of coat-armor," he cried. "I surrender myself toyou."

  "I will not take your surrender, you black villain," said Nigel. "Drawand defend yourself. Simon, give him your sword."

  "Nay, this is madness," said the blunt man-at-arms. "Why should I givethe wasp a sting?"

  "Give it him, I say. I cannot kill him in cold blood."

  "But I can!" yelled Aylward, who had crept up from the fire. "Come,comrades! By these ten finger-bones! has he not taught us how cold bloodshould be warmed?"

  Like a pack of wolves they were on him, and he clanged upon the floorwith a dozen frenzied naked figures clutching and clinging above him.In vain Nigel tried to pull them off. They were mad with rage, thesetortured starving men, their eyes fixed and glaring, their hair on end,their teeth gnashing with fury, while they tore at the howling, writhingman. Then with a rattle and clatter they pulled him across the room byhis two ankles and dragged him into the fire.

  Nigel shuddered and turned away his eyes as he saw the brazen figureroll out and stagger to his knees, only to be hurled once more into theheart of the blaze. His prisoners screamed with joy and clapped theirhands as they pushed him back with their feet until the armor was toohot for them to touch. Then at last he lay still and glowed darkly red,whilst the naked men danced in a wild half-circle round the fire.

  But now at last the supports had come. Lights flashed and armor gleameddown the tunnel. The cellar filled with armed men, while from abovecame the cries and turmoil of the feigned assault upon the gate. Ledby Knolles and Nigel, the storming party rushed upward and seized thecourtyard. The guard of the gate taken in the rear threw down theirweapons and cried for mercy. The gate was thrown open and the assailantsrushed in, with hundreds of furious peasants at their heels. Some of therobbers died in hot blood, many in cold; but all died, for Knolles hadvowed to give no quarter. Day was just breaking when the last fugitivehad been hunted out and slain. From all sides came the yells and whoopsof the soldiers with the rending and riving of doors as they burstinto the store-rooms and treasure-chambers. There was a joyous scrambleamongst them, for the plunder of eleven years, gold and jewels, satinsand velvets, rich plate and noble hangings were all to be had for thetaking.

  The rescued prisoners, their hunger appeased and their clothes restored,led the search for booty. Nigel, leaning on his sword by the gateway,saw Aylward totter past, a huge bundle under each arm, another slungover his back and a smaller packet hanging from his mouth. He dropped itfor a moment as he passed his young master.

  "By these ten finger-bones! I am right glad that I came to the war, andno man could ask for a more goodly life," said he. "I have a presenthere for every girl in Tilford, and my father need never fear the frownof the sacrist of Waverley again. But how of you, Squire Loring? Itstandeth not aright that we should gather the harvest whilst you, whosowed it, go forth empty-handed. Come, gentle sir, take these thingsthat I have gathered, and I will go back and find more."

  But Nigel smiled and shook his head. "You have gained what your heartdesired, and perchance I have done so also," said he.

  An instant later Knolles strode up to him with outstretched hand. "I askyour pardon, Nigel," said he. "I have spoken too hotly in my wrath."

  "Nay, fair sir, I was at fault."

  "If we stand here now within this castle, it is to you that I owe it.The King shall know of it, and Chandos also. Can I do aught else, Nigel,to prove to you the high esteem in which I hold you?"

  The Squire flushed with pleasure. "Do you send a messenger home toEngland, fair sir, with news of these doings?"

  "Surely, I must do so. But do not tell me, Nigel, that you would be thatmessenger. Ask me some other favor, for indeed I cannot let you go."

  "Now God forbid!" cried Nigel. "By Saint Paul! I would not be so caitiffand so thrall as to leave you, when some small deed might still be done.But I would fain send a message by your messenger."

  "To whom?"

  "It is to the Lady Mary, daughter of old Sir John Buttesthorn who dwellsnear Guildford."

  "But you will write the message, Nigel. Such greetings as a cavaliersends to his lady-love should be under seal."

  "Nay, he can carry my message by word of mouth."

  "Then I shall tell him for he goes this morning. What message, then,shall he say to the lady?"

  "He will give her my very humble greeting, and he will say to her thatfor the second time Saint Catharine has been our friend."