The Robber Baron of Bedford Castle
*CHAPTER X.*
_*THROUGH OUSE MARSHES.*_
The Lady Aliva had gone to the retreat at Elstow with a heavy heart. Inthe first place, she had dismissed the man whom she loved with all hersoul without giving him to understand that she would remain true to him;indeed, she even doubted within herself whether the words she had usedto him might not, in fact, have implied the exact opposite. Then,further, her conduct to her father had given her pain. She confessed toherself that in that scene in the hall she had acted as an undutifuldaughter, and even, at the conclusion of it, with want of maidenlyreserve and self-respect.
Thus it was that with all true sorrow of repentance she had knelt in theabbey church. When the Lady Margaret and the abbess came upon her inthe dusk bending before the high altar, she was indeed, as the abbesshad intimated, praying not for strength to face the troublesome worldagain, but for grace to take the vows of the Benedictine rule.
It has already been shown how she had made known her wish to the ladyabbess, and had obtained leave to wear for the time the habit of anovice. But her desire for the profession of a religious life had beencombated, strange to say, by two persons who in any other case wouldhave thought it their duty to strengthen it.
These two were the lady abbess herself and the archdeacon her uncle; andwhen she had learned Aliva's story, the Lady Margaret added herobjections to theirs. All these three elders deemed it unadvisable forso young a girl--she was only eighteen--to think of monastic vows, andheld out hopes that the course of true love might yet run smoothly. Thearchdeacon himself had always been a supporter of Ralph de Beauchamp'ssuit, and the two ladies joined with him in comforting the distresseddamsel with plans for the future happiness of Ralph and herself.
With regard to the unlucky incident in the hall which had so abruptlyterminated the other suitor's visit, Aliva made a clean breast of thewhole matter. The ladies even went so far as to justify her conduct; andthe archdeacon, speaking as a spiritual father, considered itsufficiently condoned by the exhortation he administered on the duty ofmaidenly reserve and the virtue of checking anger.
So when the retreat was ended, Aliva's plans were discussed in realearnest, and a determination arrived at. The good archdeacon decided togive up his projected journey to Dunstable, leaving his learned friendsto finish their business by themselves, and to accompany his niece toBletsoe. There he hoped to convince his brother of the injustice ofrepressing Ralph de Beauchamp's suit.
The _pros_ and _cons_ of this discussion occupied all the early part ofthe day, and it was accordingly late in the afternoon when Aliva, afteran affectionate parting with the two elder ladies, set off towards home,accompanied by her uncle and his two serving-men, and by Dicky Dumpling,who had brought over her riding-horse that morning.
Of the untoward event that befell the little party as they passed out ofthe abbey gateway we are already aware, and we must now take up thestory of Aliva's flight and De Breaute's pursuit.
After a short spurt across country, she turned her horse back again intothe road, that she might take in the situation and see what had becomeof her uncle. But she could see nothing in the distance save a confusedgroup of horsemen. Between herself and that group, however, she wassoon aware that a rider, William de Breaute, was following her at thetop of his speed.
Now, had he been alone, it is not improbable that the courageous maiden,who had already faced him once, would boldly have awaited his arrival;but close at his heels came two of his men, and Aliva felt that therewas nothing for it but a flight towards home.
The road to Bedford was quite cut off from her by the advancinghorsemen, but she knew that at some distance further west there was abridge across the Ouse at Bromham, and she determined to try to escapein that direction.
It was a desperate chance. Her horse was a mere palfrey, while DeBreaute and his men were mounted on some of the best horses to be foundin the stables of Bedford Castle.
She hurried through the little village of Kempston on the river-bank,for she knew it would prove no safe asylum. The approach of DeBreaute's men always struck terror into the peasants of the villagesaround Bedford. They gazed open-mouthed after the flying maiden, andthen slunk back into their huts as the mail-clad soldiers cameclattering after her in pursuit.
Only upon her own wit and readiness could Aliva depend in this terriblerace. She was less acquainted with this side of the Ouse valley thanwith the other, in which she had been accustomed to ride and hawk sincechildhood. But she knew that between Kempston and Bromham lay a stretchof marshy ground intersected by broad ditches, and into these marshesshe resolved to ride with the hope of baffling her pursuers. Shethought it not unlikely that in the ground which would bear the weightof herself and her palfrey the armed men and huge horses might bebogged.
Her conjecture proved not incorrect, and for a time the distanceincreased between herself and her pursuers. But the spring afternoon wasnow closing in, and in the failing twilight it was difficult to selectthe best track through the marshy ground. Once or twice Aliva hadactually to return upon her path, and the men behind gained anadvantage, as they watched her movements and avoided the impassableplaces. Moreover, her lightly-built horse, not much more than a pony,was beginning to tire. He had cleared one or two of the ditches withdifficulty, and now, as he attempted to jump one of considerablebreadth, a rotten take-off sent him floundering into the middle of it.
Aliva scrambled quickly from the saddle, and threw herself on the bank.But unfortunately it was the nearer one. For a minute or two she stoodvainly trying to reach the reins, and calling to her palfrey to approachher.
But her pursuers were drawing on apace. The foremost was not De Breautehimself, but one of his men, who sprang from his horse and seized Alivaby the hood which hung loosely from her shoulders.
"Let go thy hold, varlet!" shouted De Breaute, in the rear. Even in hismadness he could not bear to see her thus roughly handled by a rudesoldier.
But Aliva was free ere he spoke. She unclasped the buckle whichfastened her hood and mantle round her neck, and as the man fell backwith the garments in his hand, flung herself into the muddy dike.
The water reached nearly to her waist, and with difficulty she struggledthrough. As she passed her horse, standing half bogged in the middle,she seized the reins and drew them over his head. By good chance astunted willow overhung the further bank. She made a snatch at it,caught it, and with a supreme effort gained firm ground.
With the purchase afforded by the tree, Aliva was now able to get atight hold of her horse's head, and encouraging him with her voice, sheinduced him to follow her example, and to struggle up the bank.
The two soldiers, meanwhile, watched her manoeuvres from the furtherside in some perplexity. Their lord's order to release her had beenperemptory, and it was now apparent that she was escaping them again.Their lord himself, at some little distance, dismounted, his horsedangerously engulfed in a bog, was in as much uncertainty as they were.
When he had first started off in his wild chase of Aliva, he had indeedno fixed intention with regard to her, except perhaps to carry her offto Bedford along with Henry de Braybrooke; and now that he had pursuedher thus far from Elstow, and held her, as it were, in his grasp, he wasstill undecided.
A wild chase through Ouse marshes.]
Any brutal violence was far from his thoughts; for had he not forbiddenhis man to lay a hand upon her? A marriage was what he contemplated,though indeed it might be a forced marriage, like that of his brotherFulke with the Lady Margaret.
But no sooner did he perceive that the draggled girl was remounting hertired palfrey than he called to his men, standing stupidly looking ather from the nearer side of the ditch.
"Here, varlets, quick! Plague take you and these English morasses! Whycame ye not to my help sooner? Saw ye not how I am well-nigh smotheredin this cursed bog?"
It took some little time for the men-at-arms to free their master an
dhis floundering steed. They dragged him out in as deplorable conditionas that in which Aliva found herself, and by that time both he and theyhad had enough of the Ouse marshes.
Not that De Breaute was by any means inclined to give up the chase. Hecould see the hapless horsewoman he was pursuing far ahead and enteringthe little village of Bromham, and he followed her along firmer groundat some distance from the river.
The long, many-arched bridge which still stretches over the flat meadowsat Bromham was furnished at the western end in those days with a smallwayside chapel, the ruins of which can still be traced in themill-house. Aliva rode slowly into the village, and wearily approachedthe foot of the bridge. As she cast an anxious glance over hershoulder, she saw that her pursuers had now reached hard ground, andwere gaining on her rapidly.
Her little palfrey was dead beat. The struggle in the dike hadcompletely exhausted him, and he no longer answered to his mistress'svoice or to the touch of her riding-wand. As he reached the firstcottage at Bromham, he stumbled and rolled heavily from side to side.
Aliva was off his back in a moment. A rustic stood by, gazing inastonishment at the young lady's condition--drenched and hoodless, herfair hair streaming over her shoulders.
But Aliva's first thought was for her horse.
"Prithee, friend," she cried to the peasant, "take my palfrey and tendhim. You shall be well rewarded. I am the daughter of the lord ofBletsoe, and if I come not to claim him myself, take him to BletsoeCastle when he has recovered."
She hurried on. How to escape now she knew not. But suddenly, as sheapproached the bridge, she perceived a haven of refuge. The chapel doorstood open, and the poor hunted girl stepped into the welcome sanctuary.