CHAPTER XI
OF HOW SIR RICHARD CAME TO CASTLE YEWE
The grizzled knight's prophecy of an evil time yet to come providedthe young knight with much material for thought, without, however,worrying him in the least. He was unable to surmise even remotelywhat dire happening it was meant to foretell. Sir Richard was withoutvaulting ambitions to achieve distinction or power; had never beenentangled in any political movement; or concerned in any conspiracies;or acquainted, so far as he was aware, with the instigators of them.He had always held carefully aloof from matters pertaining to the moreserious business of Henry's court. Seeking only to gather the fullmeasure of enjoyment out of life, it had always been his wish, withal,to be regarded as an efficient soldier and faithful and obedientservant of his king. In his earnest desire to shine among the chivalriclights of his time, he brought up at the point of being dreamilyvisionary. Why he was thus suddenly become the center of a dizzyingmaelstrom of mysterious occurrences was quite beyond him to fathom;but he was none the less keen in his enjoyment of the situation, itsinscrutability appealing forcibly to his imagination.
As he rode onward beside his captor-companion, he gave frequent verbalexpression to the questions perplexing him, but without exceptionde Claverlok's replies were the embodiment of remoteness. He wasopen, however, in his references to the perils that surely awaitedSir Richard inside the walls of Yewe. His warnings were poured intounheeding ears, as the thought uppermost in Sir Richard's mind wasto reach there as quickly as his horse could accomplish the journey.The veteran warrior had been revolving in his mind the subject of hisoath of secrecy made to Tyrrell, and whether it involved the keepingof the contents of Henry's warrant from its bearer. He concludedfinally to make use of every other means that came to hand to keephis young friend, for whom he was already entertaining a sentiment ofreal affection, from delivering the parchment to Douglas. Failing ofsuccess, he would, as a last resort, expose the duplicity of the Kingby laying bare the purport of the document.
"I have your word, de Claverlok," Sir Richard interrupted the warrior'sthoughts, "that you are well acquainted with the country hereabouts?"
"Yea--that I am, Sir Dick."
"Tell me then," the young knight inquired, "how many leagues is it fromhere to Yewe?"
"Marry, and is it true you do not know, ... eh?" returned the grizzledknight, shooting a shrewd interrogative glance in the direction of hiscompanion.
"Not I. An I had, my friend, I had not besought your information," saidSir Richard.
"Aye--eh! Most truly said. Well," de Claverlok replied, hesitatingwhile he made a count upon his fingers, "not above two days' journey, Ishould say," he glibly misled his companion.
"So far as that? Well, by my faith! I wish you had said not above twohours," remarked Sir Richard regretfully. "But how see you, my friend,"he thereupon added, pointing his finger directly ahead of them down theroad; "an I mistake me not, in yonder valley beside the fork of theroad doth set an inn?"
"Aye--that it is. The good Stag and Hounds; right well do I know itsjovial keeper. There, Sir Dick, may we dine, drink our fill, and whileaway a pleasant hour in reading out of your Tales of--of----"
"Canterbury, do you mean?" suggested Sir Richard.
"Canterbury--aye, of a truth, that's it, my young friend. Beshrew mean I have not the devil's own time with remembering names, ... eh! Youhave this Canterbury business within your saddle-pouch, I heard yousay. I would hear you read somewhat out of it, ... eh!"
"This fondness of yours for written tales is certes something of arecent acquirement," laughed Sir Richard. "Only this morning, an Iremember me aright, did you scoff at my keeping it beside me; yea--anddid heap scathing ridicule upon the head of the scholar, Erasmus, whenI spoke of my admiration for him."
"I did but say," protested the grizzled knight in all seriousness,"that the scholar's nose was an uncommon long member, ... eh! And thathis bookish business made him to be devilishly thin and pallid. I havea strong liking for tales, let me tell you that, Sir Dick. You'll readme out of them, ... eh?"
"Sorry I am to deny you, my good friend," the young knight replied,"but I dare not steal the time from the doing of my errand. I shall buttarry in the Stag and Hounds to feed and rest my barb. But here's achallenge for you, de Claverlok," he added, gathering his loose reinswell within his grasp. "The last man to dismount before the steps ofthe tavern shall foot up score for horse and man. What say you? Come,my hearty warrior, show me the vaunted mettle of your steed!"
"I have you, Sir Dick!" instantly agreed the grizzled knight; whereuponthey started off together, with dust and pebbles flying thick in theirtrain from the swiftness of their flight.
De Claverlok's animal was exceptionally deep-breasted and powerful,and a near match for Sir Richard's in speed. For quite a distance theyclipped it neck and neck along the road. About midway between themand the goal against which they were flinging there rode a solitaryhorseman. He was garbed in the habit of a monk, with the cowl drawnwell down over his head. The mad volleying of hoofs caused the riderto uncover, as the racers drew near, and shoot a glance of wondermentin their direction. Even with the fleeting view thus afforded him, SirRichard remarked that the rugged, lean, and livid-scarred countenanceappeared singularly incongruous within the brown frame of a monk'shood. It was like anything but that of a peace-loving ascetic. Sointent was the young knight upon winning his race, however, that hefailed to notice the unusually sharp angles where the robe fell awayfrom the horseman's knees and elbows. Neither was he sufficiently acuteto observe that his rapidly forging to the fore of de Claverlok wascoincident with the swift uplifting of the traveler's cowl.
He swept on down to the door of the Stag and Hounds, and reining hisstallion to its haunches beneath the creaking sign that hung aboveit, he flung himself from off his saddle in time to see the monk lookrather hastily back toward the tavern, mark the stations of the crossin the air with exaggerated gestures above de Claverlok's bowed head,and disappear at a round gallop over the hill.
The grizzled knight then rode leisurely down to where Sir Richard stoodwaiting for him, his rugged face beaming with smiles.
"Your barb's hoofs spurned the earth too swiftly for us to bear himcompany," said he, dismounting beside the young knight, "so I yieldedto you the palm of speed, and added to the total of my score by tossingyon pious churchman a noble. Mayhap I may be the gainer throughachieving absolution from divers of my recent sins, ... eh? What, hothere, MacWhuddy!" he shouted at the inn-keeper, who was smiling,rubbing his pudgy hands together, and bowing within the door. "Sendthy groom, MacWhuddy, and have me these barbs fed and curried whilstwe have somewhat of your best to eat and drink. By my soul, MacWhuddy,but thou'rt growing of a size," he went on in a robustious way afterthe groom had come forward to relieve them of their horses. "Bigger andfatter than ever, ... eh? 'Tis a right healthful business, this keepingof an inn, ... eh? Nothing but eat and drink, and drink and eat fromday's end to day's end, and trade jokes from the benchside with thetoiling traveler that gorges thy till. When I get me done with thisfighting, I'll have me a tavern with a warm corner, a soft seat, and afull flagon ever at hand, ... eh! Sir Dick?"
"I could never picture you, my pugnacious friend, without your readysword and buckler," laughed the young knight. "But make haste,MacWhuddy," he added, turning toward the inn-keeper. "We would quicklybait ourselves and be away upon our travels. Hold! one moment, my goodfellow. Cannot you tell me whether this road leads to Castle Yewe? andhow many leagues----"
"Pooh--pooh!" interrupted de Claverlok loudly. "And what doth MacWhuddyknow, pray, ... eh? Why, by my faith, scarce his own name, Sir Dick!Saint Dunstan hear me, an he keeps him not his scores upon a notchedstick, I'll eat him for a flitch of bacon. Get you gone, MacWhuddy," heroared, when the puzzled inn-keeper made as if to protest. "Bring inthe meat, MacWhuddy, and not a word out of your blessed pate, or I'llroll you like one of your own wine butts through yon door, MacWhuddy,... eh!"
"I wish that you would have exp
ended your wasted energies in biddingthe fellow make haste," said Sir Richard, who was much mystified by hiscompanion's sudden display of irritability.
"Haste? He'll make haste, will MacWhuddy--he's built for 't, ... eh?"observed de Claverlok with a dry laugh. "But where's the blessed groom,... eh? I would have him to--ah! here he comes now. Hey, you, fellow;"he called to the hostler, who was just about to set his foot insidethe door, "bring us a book you'll find in the left saddle pouch uponthe back of the black horse. Why stand you there twirling your cap andmouthing like a drunken tarry-Jack, ... eh? Fetch us the book, I say!"
"I canna un'erstan' thee, worshipful marster," mumbled the thoroughlyfrightened menial. "What are a bo-o-ke, good sir? Be it some'at to eat,or some'at to drink--or some'at f'r th' hoorses, mayhap?"
"Well, by Saint Dunstan! Know you not what a book is, ... eh?" roaredthe grizzled knight, springing up from his seat beside a table andstarting for the dumfounded groom. "I'll have the flat of my sword atyour hinder quarters for a doddering void-pate!" whereupon, with agreat show of anger, he made through the door in a furious pursuit ofthe innocent offender. "A book, I tell you--" Sir Richard could hear deClaverlok having it out with the groom in the yard; "a handful of paperwith a board stuck fast upon each end--do you hear me, ... eh?"
The noise died away presently. Sir Richard supposed that his mercurialcompanion was engaged in rummaging for the book; but the grizzledknight had beckoned the inn-keeper to his side and was threatening himwith every description of chastisement if he but dared to intimate tohis young friend within the location or distance of Castle Yewe.
"An the sir knight asks me again, what shall I tell him?" queried thelandlord.
"Oh, anything, MacWhuddy, and be damned to you! Anything but the truth."
When de Claverlok came into the tap-room he was puffing and blowing ata tremendous rate and carrying the vellum-bound volume under his arm.
"Come now, Sir Dick," he started off in a wheedling tone, "read me oneof these tales of--oh--how say you that name again, ... eh?"
"De Claverlok," observed Sir Richard dryly, "your love of literaturehas grown to be of an intensity indeed. But your laggard memory haltsand stumbles and plays traitor by refusing to keep pace with it. I havesaid before, my zealous friend, that it would ill beseem me to tarryhere in idle reading. Nay--another time, good scholar. Another time!Another time! Here comes our host's pretty daughter with the meat anddrink. Let us refresh ourselves quickly and be away."
"Then," said de Claverlok, "I'll return the book to its place withinyour----"
As he spoke he arose from his stool, and just at the moment when theserving-maid was about to set the platter upon the table. They collidedviolently, scattering the food and wine over the sanded floor.
De Claverlok wheeled, straightened, set his hands upon his hips, andwith a look as though all the world was conspiring to do him injury,regarded the cowering, half-tearful maid.
"Well--what fiend's in this blessed place, ... eh?" he bellowed."Look you at this mess upon the floor, you awkward body! And here thesir knight yonder is fair aching to be upon his way. An you wore notkirtles, I'd have the flat of my hand at your ears for a blunderingdunce, ... eh!"
The serving-maid turned an appealing glance in Sir Richard's direction.
"I'll fetch thee more, sir knight," she said. "In truth, I meant not tospill the things, noble sir."
"Fret not yourself, good maid," said Sir Richard kindly. "Nay--I wotwell it was not your fault. I fear me my friend has been struck withsome fearsome sickness. He was not always thus. You may go, maid. Butbring not the food--I dare not wait. Indeed, I was not over keen toeat. A slice of bread from your hand before I get me in the saddle isall I crave."
"That shalt thou have," said the maid with returning spirit, startingfor the kitchen door, "and a bit of toasted cheese to keep it company."
"Upon my soul, de Claverlok," remonstrated Sir Richard, "your temper isgrowing to be something unbearable. 'Twas not the wench's fault thatthe food was overturned. You backed your great body square against theplatter, leaving her no room for escape on either side. You've had yourquarrel with our host, who seems, in sooth, a right peaceable and merryfellow; you berated the groom, and glowered upon the kitchen-maid--withwhom will you brawl next, my friend?"
"Why, with you, an you stay not here to eat and drink," retorted deClaverlok.
"Then let the fun begin," said the young knight, starting for the reardoor that gave to the court and stables. "Not another moment do I tarryhere. An you are coming with me--come."
De Claverlok could do nothing but follow, the which he did with obviousreluctance. Once outside, they ran plump into the inn-keeper, whowas all at sea whether to smile and pass the usual joke, or to keephis eyes fastened discreetly upon his broad expanse of doublet. SirRichard, however, allowed him no choice of alternatives. He stoppedhim, setting his hand firmly upon the landlord's round shoulder.
"When my friend interrupted," said the young knight, "you were about totell me the distance and direction of Castle Yewe--is it not so?"
MacWhuddy cast a sheepish look in the direction of de Claverlok, whowas scowling fiercely and shaking his fist behind Sir Richard's back.
"'Tis in some'at of that way," he replied, "ower there," waving histrembling hands to the eastward; "some, ... oh! near--I say near, mindthee, worshipful knight, ... near twenty--thirty leagues."
According to that, Sir Richard would have been required to travel somedistance out upon the open sea.
De Claverlok strode toward the stable, muttering savage oaths againstthe stupidity of innkeepers in general, and poor MacWhuddy inparticular. Meanwhile, the serving-maid, bread and cheese in hand, wasbeckoning the young knight from the kitchen window.
"Here is thy bit food, sir knight," she said, as Sir Richard took hisstation beneath the casement upon which she was leaning. "CastleYewe," she added in a whisper, "doth lie straight along this road inthe way thou wert traveling, and not above six leagues. Turn to thyright where the road forks in front of the inn. Often, on a clear day,from yonder hill, have I seen its lofty turrets. Good fortune attendthee, sir noble knight," she concluded, laying her hand, which was justout of a pan of flour, upon his shoulder, "and beware of the brute withthe beard on thy way--he means harm to thee, I fear."
When Sir Richard came, whistling a merry tune, into the stable, deClaverlok was making a great show of rage, cursing and boxing the poorstable-boy's ears.
"What now, my friend?" asked the young knight as he went on past thestruggling pair toward his horse.
"What now, ... eh?" roared de Claverlok; "why, here has this young cubgone and mislaid your saddle girth! A murrain upon the loutish tribe,say I! and you in a sweat to be off, too. I'll----"
"Have done berating the boy, de Claverlok," said Sir Richard. "Now tellme, man, what have _you_ done with that girth? I know exactly wherelies Castle Yewe, and I wish to ride within its sallyport withoutfurther parley or delay. What have you done with my girth, I say?"
"By Saint George, Sir Dick, what have _I_ done with _your_ saddlegirth, ... eh? 'Tis too much, this, I tell you. Give me nothing abovea padded lance and a sword of lath, and I'd do battle with the wholeof you together. Here have I suffered all manner of insults from everyblessed soul within this tavern--and now you, Sir Dick, must say to me,what have _I_ done with _your_ girth, ... eh!"
"Mayhap," whined the stable-boy, who was squirming to get loose from deClaverlok's grasp, "I mislaid me it in yon hay-cock."
"Then I'll go with thee to help find it," de Claverlok said, wrigglingup the great pile of hay behind the boy.
While they were both down on their hands and knees digging, Sir Richardquickly unbuckled the grizzled knight's saddle and set it upon the backof his own horse.
"Have you found it, my friend?" he called, when he had made deClaverlok's strap secure.
"Nay--not yet. Have patience, Sir Dick," called the grizzled knightwithout stopping to look behind him.
"Then," laugh
ed Sir Richard triumphantly, "being in sore haste to getaway, I've e'en borrowed thine. Thou canst follow later, sir knight.Adieu to you--adieu!"
"Fie--Sir Dick!" shouted de Claverlok, starting up red-faced andsliding down the steep side of the hay; "I pray you, be not in such anundue haste. Wait! You are leaving with the mark of a powdered handupon your shoulder-cape. Hold, I say! Let me brush it from you, boy!"
The young knight was safe upon the highway before de Claverlok gotclear of the hay.
"An I have the mark of the scullery-maid upon my shoulder," he calledback, "I have also the knowledge of the true distance of Castle Yewebeneath my bonnet. Give you a round good-day, de Claverlok," he added,laughing gaily, and with that pelted off down the road at top speed.
He had a fine view of the Stag and Hounds from the crest of the nexthill, and saw his companion swing into his saddle and follow afterhim at a great pace, with the lost girth strapped securely about hishorse's belly. The race was now on in grim earnest, and the youngknight was resolved, at any hazard, to hold fast to the advantage hehad gained.
The breadth of the hill intervening, he lost sight of de Claverlok fora little space. But he had another view of him when his pursuer rodeover its summit. The grizzled knight was shouting a string of wordsthat, because of the roaring of the wind in his ears and the poundingof his horse's hoofs, he could not at all make out, and waving his longarms about in the most frantic manner. The young knight was enjoyingthe situation to the marrow. It was worth everything to him merely tohave outwitted the crafty veteran.
Sir Richard calculated that he was laying the road behind him at therate of five leagues an hour. He was relieved and happy to know thatof a certainty he would soon arrive at his journey's end, and that,too, in despite of the many obstacles that had been so stubbornlythrust in his way. "Then," thought he, with a thrill of pleasure, "uponfulfilling my King's behest I shall be free to retrace my way to theRed Tavern to deliver the fair maiden from her imprisonment."
Thus much, at least, he meant surely to do. After that wasaccomplished, he felt constrained to relinquish the marking of thesequel into the hands of the kind--or unkind--Fates.
Meanwhile the race was going steadily and swiftly forward. Thoughexacting the utmost of speed from his horse, Sir Richard was unableappreciably to change their positions. With a dogged persistence deClaverlok contrived to maintain the rapid pace and relative distance,which, when galloping over the level, was well within sight of thepursued.
At length, through a narrow cleft between the hills, Sir Richard caughta welcome glimpse of high, square-built and crenelated towers. It wasthe goal for which he was so mightily striving.
He had passed through the cleft and was well up the slope leading tothe portcullis when of a sudden he felt the saddle girth giving waybeneath him. Appreciating that it would be sheer madness to risk afall and certain defeat of his purpose of delivering the warrant, withvictory so near, he instantly drew rein, flung himself from off theback of his panting stallion and began the work of securing the illadjusted strap.
While thus feverishly engaged he shouted at the top of his voice forthe guard upon the tower to lower the drawbridge across the wide moat.Covered with scarlet-flecked foam, de Claverlok's horse came thunderingupon him up the hill.
With the grizzled knight scarce above two lance-haft's lengths behindhim, and wildly calling upon him to wait, that death lay in the King'swarrant, Sir Richard vaulted into his saddle and made for the castlegate.
When he had laid something near half of the remaining distance behindhim he heard the clear blast of a bugle go singing across the down.Without in the least diminishing his speed, he turned in time to seea band of armored horsemen flashing out of the pine forest to theeastward. Riding in the van he was certain that he recognized thelivid-scarred face of the traveler in the monk's robe.
If the bridge were now but lowered it would be impossible for themto cut Sir Richard off. Would it fall for him? Now he had reached towithin easy flight of an arrow from the massively buttressed graywalls; and as yet he could discern no sign of movement among the thickropes, wheels, and pulleys sustaining it. There appeared no hint oflife along the face of the great pile. At the very moment when hewas about to wheel to the westward, in the faint hope of eluding hispursuers through a continued flight, there sounded a creaking ofwheels, and the heavy structure began slowly to move earthward.
De Claverlok's lance, hilt-foremost, went hurtling past the youngknight's shoulder. Distinctly he heard the dull splash of it as itstruck the black waters of the moat, far below.
At every stride the slope was growing steeper, and it seemed to SirRichard's straining eyes that the bridge, with its underwork of mossybeams and rusted iron trusses, was hanging in mid air directly abovehis head.
So closely had its fall been timed, however, that there was no marginleft to the young knight upon the side of safety. He was forced to puthis mount to the leap to gain the top of it.
"God wot there be death here for the twain of us!" Sir Richard heardde Claverlok shout as he, too, took the perilous leap but an instantbehind him.
Through the yawning maw of the arched sallyport they shot together, andthe heavy portcullis, like iron teeth snapping down after gulping theirprey, crashed upon the flagging at their backs.