The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson - Swanston Edition, Vol. 8

  CHAPTER VI

  NIGHT IN THE WOODS (_concluded_) DICK AND JOAN

  The horses had by this time finished the small store of provender, andfully breathed from their fatigues. At Dick's command, the fire wassmothered in snow; and while his men got once more wearily to saddle, hehimself, remembering, somewhat late, true woodland caution, chose a talloak, and nimbly clambered to the topmost fork. Hence he could look farabroad on the moonlit and snow-paven forest. On the south-west, darkagainst the horizon, stood those upland heathy quarters where he andJoanna had met with the terrifying misadventure of the leper. And therehis eye was caught by a spot of ruddy brightness no bigger than aneedle's eye.

  He blamed himself sharply for his previous neglect. Were that, as itappeared to be, the shining of Sir Daniel's camp-fire, he should longago have seen and marched for it; above all, he should, for noconsideration, have announced his neighbourhood by lighting a fire ofhis own. But now he must no longer squander valuable hours. The directway to the uplands was about two miles in length; but it was crossed bya very deep, precipitous dingle, impassable to mounted men; and for thesake of speed, it seemed to Dick advisable to desert the horses andattempt the adventure on foot.

  Ten men were left to guard the horses; signals were agreed upon by whichthey could communicate in case of need; and Dick set forth at the headof the remainder, Alicia Risingham walking stoutly by his side.

  The men had freed themselves of heavy armour, and left behind theirlances; and they now marched with a very good spirit in the frozensnow, and under the exhilarating lustre of the moon. The descent intothe dingle, where a stream strained sobbing through the snow and ice,was effected with silence and order; and on the farther side, being thenwithin a short half-mile of where Dick had seen the glimmer of the fire,the party halted to breathe before the attack.

  In the vast silence of the wood, the lightest sounds were audible fromfar; and Alicia, who was keen of hearing, held up her finger warningly,and stooped to listen. All followed her example; but besides the groansof the choked brook in the dingle close behind, and the barking of a foxat a distance of many miles among the forest, to Dick's acutesthearkening not a breath was audible.

  "But yet, for sure, I heard the clash of harness," whispered Alicia.

  "Madam," returned Dick, who was more afraid of that young lady than often stout warriors, "I would not hint ye were mistaken; but it mightwell have come from either of the camps."

  "It came not thence. It came from westward," she declared.

  "It may be what it will," returned Dick; "and it must be as Heavenplease. Reck we not a jot, but push on the livelier, and put it to thetouch.--Up, friends--enough breathed."

  As they advanced, the snow became more and more trampled withhoof-marks, and it was plain that they were drawing near to theencampment of a considerable force of mounted men. Presently they couldsee the smoke pouring from among the trees, ruddily coloured on itslower edge and scattering bright sparks.

  And here, pursuant to Dick's orders, his men began to open out, creepingstealthily in the covert, to surround on every side the camp of theiropponents. He himself, placing Alicia in the shelter of a bulky oak,stole straight forth in the direction of the fire.

  At last, through an opening of the wood, his eye embraced the scene ofthe encampment. The fire had been built upon a heathy hummock of theground, surrounded on three sides by thicket, and it now burned verystrong, roaring aloud and brandishing flames. Around it there sat notquite a dozen people, warmly cloaked; but though the neighbouring snowwas trampled down as by a regiment, Dick looked in vain for any horse.He began to have a terrible misgiving that he was out-manoeuvred. At thesame time, in a tall man with a steel salet, who was spreading his handsbefore the blaze, he recognised his old friend and still kindly enemy,Bennet Hatch; and in two others, sitting a little back, he made out,even in their male disguise, Joanna Sedley and Sir Daniel's wife.

  "Well," thought he to himself, "even if I lose my horses, let me get myJoanna, and why should I complain?"

  And then, from the farther side of the encampment, there came a littlewhistle, announcing that his men had joined, and the investment wascomplete.

  Bennet, at the sound, started to his feet; but ere he had time to springupon his arms, Dick hailed him.

  "Bennet," he said--"Bennet, old friend, yield ye. Ye will but spillmen's lives in vain if ye resist."

  "'Tis Master Shelton, by St. Barbary!" cried Hatch. "Yield me? Ye askmuch. What force have ye?"

  "I tell you, Bennet, ye are both outnumbered and begirt," said Dick."Caesar and Charlemagne would cry for quarter. I have two score men at mywhistle, and with one shoot of arrows I could answer for you all."

  "Master Dick," said Bennet, "it goes against my heart; but I must do myduty. The saints help you!" And therewith he raised a little tucket tohis mouth and wound a rousing call.

  Then followed a moment of confusion; for while Dick, fearing for theladies, still hesitated to give the word to shoot, Hatch's little bandsprang to their weapons and formed back to back as for a fierceresistance. In the hurry of their change of place, Joanna sprang fromher seat and ran like an arrow to her lover's side.

  "Here, Dick!" she cried, as she clasped his hand in hers.

  But Dick still stood irresolute; he was yet young to the more deplorablenecessities of war, and the thought of old Lady Brackley checked thecommand upon his tongue. His own men became restive. Some of them criedon him by name; others, of their own accord, began to shoot; and at thefirst discharge poor Bennet bit the dust. Then Dick awoke.

  "On!" he cried. "Shoot, boys, and keep to cover. England and York!"

  But just then the dull beat of many horses on the snow suddenly arose inthe hollow ear of the night, and, with incredible swiftness, drew nearerand swelled louder. At the same time, answering tuckets repeated andrepeated Hatch's call.

  "Rally, rally!" cried Dick. "Rally upon me! Rally for your lives!"

  But his men--afoot, scattered, taken in the hour when they had countedon an easy triumph--began instead to give ground severally, and eitherstood wavering or dispersed into the thickets. And when the first of thehorsemen came charging through the open avenues and fiercely ridingtheir steeds into the underwood, a few stragglers were overthrown orspeared among the brush, but the bulk of Dick's command had simplymelted at the rumour of their coming.

  Dick stood for a moment, bitterly recognising the fruits of hisprecipitate and unwise valour. Sir Daniel had seen the fire; he hadmoved out with his main force, whether to attack his pursuers or to takethem in the rear if they should venture the assault. His had beenthroughout the part of a sagacious captain; Dick's the conduct of aneager boy. And here was the young knight, his sweetheart, indeed,holding him tightly by the hand, but otherwise alone, his whole commandof men and horses dispersed in the night and the wide forest, like apaper of pins in a hay barn.

  "The saints enlighten me!" he thought. "It is well I was knighted forthis morning's matter; this doth me little honour."

  And thereupon, still holding Joanna, he began to run.

  The silence of the night was now shattered by the shouts of the men ofTunstall, as they galloped hither and thither, hunting fugitives; andDick broke boldly through the underwood and ran straight before him likea deer. The silver clearness of the moon upon the open snow increased,by contrast, the obscurity of the thickets; and the extreme dispersionof the vanquished led the pursuers into widely divergent paths. Hence,in but a little while, Dick and Joanna paused, in a close covert, andheard the sounds of the pursuit, scattering abroad, indeed, in alldirections, but yet fainting already in the distance.

  "An I had but kept a reserve of them together," Dick cried bitterly, "Icould have turned the tables yet! Well, we live and learn; next time itshall go better, by the rood."

  "Nay, Dick," said Joanna, "what matters it? Here we are, together onceagain."

  He looked at her, and there she was--John Matcham, as of yore, in hoseand doublet. But now he knew her; now, even
in that ungainly dress, shesmiled upon him, bright with love; and his heart was transported withjoy.

  "Sweetheart," he said, "if ye forgive this blunderer, what care I? Makewe direct for Holywood; there lieth your good guardian and my betterfriend, Lord Foxham. There shall we be wed; and whether poor or wealthy,famous or unknown, what matters it? This day, dear love, I won my spurs;I was commended by great men for my valour; I thought myself thegoodliest man of war in all broad England. Then, first, I fell out of myfavour with the great; and now I have been well thrashed, and clean lostmy soldiers. There was a downfall for conceit! But, dear, I carenot--dear, if ye still love me and will wed, I would have my knighthooddone away, and mind it not a jot."

  "My Dick!" she cried. "And did they knight you?"

  "Ay, dear, ye are my lady now," he answered fondly; "or ye shall, erenoon to-morrow--will ye not?"

  "That will I, Dick, with a glad heart," she answered.

  "Ay, sir? Methought ye were to be a monk!" said a voice in their ears.

  "Alicia!" cried Joanna.

  "Even so," replied the young lady, coming forward. "Alicia, whom ye leftfor dead, and whom your lion-driver found, and brought to life again,and, by my sooth, made love to, if ye want to know."

  "I'll not believe it," cried Joanna. "Dick!"

  "Dick!" mimicked Alicia. "Dick, indeed!--Ay, fair sir, and ye desertpoor damsels in distress," she continued, turning to the young knight."Ye leave them planted behind oaks. But they say true--the age ofchivalry is dead."

  "Madam," cried Dick in despair, "upon my soul I had forgotten yououtright. Madam, ye must try to pardon me. Ye see, I had new foundJoanna!"

  "I did not suppose that ye had done it o' purpose," she retorted. "But Iwill be cruelly avenged. I will tell a secret to my Lady Shelton--shethat is to be," she added, curtseying. "Joanna," she continued, "Ibelieve, upon my soul, your sweetheart is a bold fellow in a fight, buthe is, let me tell you plainly, the softest-hearted simpleton inEngland. Go to--ye may do your pleasure with him! And now, foolchildren, first kiss me, either one of you, for luck and kindness; andthen kiss each other just one minute by the glass, and not one secondlonger; and then let us all three set forth for Holywood as fast as wecan stir; for these woods, methinks, are full of peril, and exceedingcold."

  "But did my Dick make love to you?" asked Joanna, clinging to hersweetheart's side.

  "Nay, fool girl," returned Alicia; "it was I made love to him. I offeredto marry him, indeed; but he bade me go marry with my likes. These werehis words. Nay, that I will say: he is more plain than pleasant. Butnow, children, for the sake of sense, set forward. Shall we go once moreover the dingle, or push straight for Holywood?"

  "Why," said Dick, "I would like dearly to get upon a horse; for I havebeen sore mauled and beaten, one way and another, these last days, andmy poor body is one bruise. But how think ye? If the men, upon the alarmof the fighting, had fled away, we should have gone about for nothing.'Tis but some three short miles to Holywood direct; the bell hath notbeat nine; the snow is pretty firm to walk upon, the moon clear; how ifwe went even as we are?"

  "Agreed!" cried Alicia; but Joanna only pressed upon Dick's arm.

  Forth, then, they went, through open leafless groves and down snow-cladalleys, under the white face of the winter moon; Dick and Joanna walkinghand in hand and in a heaven of pleasure; and their light-mindedcompanion, her own bereavements heartily forgotten, followed a pace ortwo behind, now rallying them upon their silence, and now drawing happypictures of their future and united lives.

  Still, indeed, in the distance of the wood, the riders of Tunstall mightbe heard urging their pursuit; and from time to time cries or the clashof steel announced the shock of enemies. But in these young folk, bredamong the alarms of war, and fresh from such a multiplicity of dangers,neither fear nor pity could be lightly wakened. Content to find thesounds still drawing farther and farther away, they gave up their heartsto the enjoyment of the hour, walking already, as Alicia put it, in awedding procession; and neither the rude solitude of the forest nor thecold of the freezing night had any force to shadow or distract theirhappiness.

  At length, from a rising hill, they looked below them on the dell ofHolywood. The great windows of the forest abbey shone with torch andcandle; its high pinnacles and spires arose very clear and silent, andthe gold rood upon the topmost summit glittered brightly in the moon.All about it, in the open glade, camp-fires were burning, and the groundwas thick with huts; and across the midst of the picture the frozenriver curved.

  "By the mass," said Richard, "there are Lord Foxham's fellows stillencamped. The messenger hath certainly miscarried. Well, then, sobetter. We have power at hand to face Sir Daniel."

  But if Lord Foxham's men still lay encamped in the long holm atHolywood, it was from a different reason from the one supposed by Dick.They had marched, indeed, for Shoreby; but ere they were half-waythither, a second messenger met them, and bade them return to theirmorning's camp, to bar the road against Lancastrian fugitives, and to beso much nearer to the main army of York. For Richard of Gloucester,having finished the battle and stamped out his foes in that district,was already on the march to rejoin his brother; and not long after thereturn of my Lord Foxham's retainers, Crookback himself drew rein beforethe abbey door. It was in honour of this august visitor that the windowsshone with lights; and at the hour of Dick's arrival with his sweetheartand her friend, the whole ducal party was being entertained in therefectory with the splendour of that powerful and luxurious monastery.

  Dick, not quite with his good will, was brought before them. Gloucester,sick with fatigue, sat leaning upon one hand his white and terrifyingcountenance; Lord Foxham, half recovered from his wound, was in a placeof honour on his left.

  "How, sir?" asked Richard. "Have ye brought me Sir Daniel's head?"

  "My lord duke," replied Dick, stoutly enough, but with a qualm at heart,"I have not even the good fortune to return with my command. I havebeen, so please your grace, well beaten."

  Gloucester looked upon him with a formidable frown.

  "I gave you fifty lances,[3] sir," he said.

  "My lord duke, I had but fifty men-at-arms," replied the young knight.

  "How is this?" said Gloucester. "He did ask me fifty lances."

  "May it please your grace," replied Catesby smoothly, "for a pursuit wegave him but the horsemen."

  "It is well," replied Richard, adding, "Shelton, ye may go."

  "Stay!" said Lord Foxham. "This young man likewise had a charge from me.It may be he hath better sped.--Say, Master Shelton, have ye found themaid?"

  "I praise the saints, my lord," said Dick, "she is in this house."

  "Is it even so? Well, then, my lord the duke," resumed Lord Foxham,"with your good will, to-morrow, before the army march, I do propose amarriage. This young squire----"

  "Young knight," interrupted Catesby.

  "Say ye so, Sir William?" cried Lord Foxham.

  "I did myself, and for good service, dub him knight," said Gloucester."He hath twice manfully served me. It is not valour of hands, it is aman's mind of iron, that he lacks. He will not rise, Lord Foxham. 'Tis afellow that will fight indeed bravely in a mellay, but hath a capon'sheart. Howbeit, if he is to marry, marry him in the name of Mary, and bedone!"

  "Nay, he is a brave lad--I know it," said Lord Foxham. "Content ye,then, Sir Richard. I have compounded this affair with Master Hamley, andto-morrow ye shall wed."

  Whereupon Dick judged it prudent to withdraw; but he was not yet clearof the refectory, when a man, but newly alighted at the gate, camerunning four stairs at a bound, and brushing through the abbey servants,threw himself on one knee before the duke.

  "Victory, my lord," he cried.

  And before Dick had got to the chamber set apart for him as LordFoxham's guest, the troops in the holm were cheering around their fires;for upon that same day, not twenty miles away, a second crushing blowhad been dealt to the power of Lancaster.

  FOOTNOTE:

 
[3] Technically, the term "lance" included a not quite certain number of foot-soldiers attached to the man-at-arms.