CHAPTER XXV.
BADGER CRACKS THE NORMAN'S PATE.
"Those who in quarrels interpose Must often wipe a bloody nose."
_The Mastiffs._
A few miles down the valley from the Norman headquarters at the castle,and following the trend of the river--because there was on its banks tobe found a path, or track, very irregular, it is true, but which wasmade to serve the purposes of pedestrians, and which was littlefrequented--a Norman runner, or messenger, the bearer of De Montfort'sdespatch to the Conqueror, was steadily pressing on towards hisdestination. He had had a sharp walk along a road none of the best, andthe springiness was beginning to disappear from his tread. He carried asword by his side. Over his shoulder there was fastened a walletcontaining provisions, and a long bow with a small quiver of arrows. Inhis right hand he carried a quarterstaff, which he used as awalking-stick. This latter weapon was much affected by the Normans, theyhaving learnt its use from the Saxons, and it was now inseparable fromtheir rough games and amusements, it being singularly adapted to callforth the powers of strength and dexterity of the wielders of it, whilstits vigorous application seldom resulted in anything worse than bruisesand ruffled tempers. Ahead of this Norman, and quite unobserved by him,there was patiently lying in wait a remarkable being, who was quietlypeering over the top of a knoll which commanded a view of a turning inthe road. His dress plainly proclaimed him to be a child of the forestand the chase, his weird and outlandish appearance being simplyindescribable. He sprang to his feet with remarkable agility as the formof the Norman runner rounded the corner into view. He fell into thepath, and affected to journey as the stranger did, though as yet theNorman had not got a glimpse of him. As he went slowly trudging along,he burst into a merry ditty, trolling it right lustily. The burden ofhis doggerel ran something like the following:--
"My song is of a palmer bold, Who footed it o'er the lea. A monkish buck to him stepp'd up, 'What's the news, my man?' quoth he.
"'Bad news! Why, wine is getting scarce, And venison, too, I trow. And this I know the Normans vow; They are eat and drunk by you.
"'And paunches measuring a cloth-yard's girth, They tap them with lance or spear; For good old sack is kept in stock By such, the Normans swear.'
"'Then take my bottle, thou palmer bold, My venison pasty too. I'll fast and pray, and hair-shirt wear, As a pious monk should do.'"
The strange singer affected to be totally oblivious of the approach ofthe Norman, for he accompanied his song by a vigorous twirling of hisquarterstaff, ever and anon flinging it into the air and catching itagain. So he kept trudging along all the while, as merrily as a cricket.He was apparently greatly startled when the Norman accosted him in thefollowing unceremonious fashion:--
"Hilloa, old weazen-face! you appear to be in a wonderfully merry moodthis morning. What is't makes you wag your tail at such a rate thismorning, eh?"
"I give you good morning, fair sir. My obedience to your honour. Give mea moment; you quite startle me. What was your honour saying to me?"
"What is it makes you so merry, pray?"
"Why, it is better to be merry than sad; and, begging your pardon forbeing so bold, but I have that about me would make a man merry if he hada foot in the grave."
"Oh, aye, that is it makes you so merry, old bogskipper, is it? Ithought you were going sweethearting."
"Marry, no! Did you ever see as old a dog as I am amuse himself bycatching his tail. Mark me, I have in my wallet good barley-bread, and astout collop of venison; and in my case I have a stiff supply of oldFlemish wine," said he, tapping a huge leathern bottle he carried. "So Iwill be merry while it lasts, anyhow."
"I warrant, too, you have had that snout of yours to the neck of thatbottle pretty frequently, old fellow, eh?"
"Thou art in error, friend; grossly in error. Such words are a gravereflection upon my character for sobriety. But it is only fair to saythat I have smelt at it occasionally as I came along; but I never drinkexcept I'm thirsty, begging your pardon, fair sir--only when I'mthirsty."
"Thirsty, eh? And how oft does that sensation come on? Not a weekbetween, I'll go bond."
"No, I grant you this much. I always seem to have a parched sensation atthe pit of my stomach when wine or ale is about; and I have noticed thisfrequently, good wine seems to go straight to the spot. It is a verysoothing medicine if it be applied regularly, and pretty oft, so as tokeep my stomach nice and moist."
"Well, I think you might ask a thirsty comrade to have a taste of yourwine, anyhow, old sucker. 'Tis a very small favour, that."
"Not so fast, my buck; don't jump your fence afore you come to't! Firstfee your priest, then have your shriving. How should I know whether thoubeest a comrade or no. Dost thou see, to give good wine to a bad fellowwere to waste good liquor, and there is no sin in the calendar half sobad as to waste good liquor. Marry, 'twere mortal sin."
"Ho, ho, my master's all! Dost thou know, old fellow, when an ass kickshis heels he inquires for the cudgel. Come, now, what if I lay siege tothy weazen carcase, and carry off thy bottle, and flay thy carcase forthee into the bargain. How then?"
"Easy there, my hearty!" said the stranger, twirling lustily his staff."I trow I would flatten thy crown with my staff ere thou take my bottle;though 'twere pity truly to flatten thee any more above thy shoulders,for, gramercy! I take it thou would be welcome where flats are wanted."
"I perceive thou art a stout rogue enough when driven to a push, andsaucy into the bargain. But I can stop thy brag, my cock-a-loup, prettyhandy, I doubt not."
"That may be, or that may not be, which signifies nothing. But just letme point out to thee, by way of caution, that my staff is harder thanthy pate, anyhow. So, in a friendly sort of way, I would advise thee totake no unnecessary risks."
"Risks, eh? Ha, ha, ha! And from such a swag-belly as thou art! Thereare not many risks, I flatter me."
"Very well, then; since thou wilt not be advised, take thy staff for afriendly bout," said the Saxon, unstrapping his wallet and leathernbottle, and laying them on the ground. "If I crack thy pate, thou shalthave half my wine; and marry, if thou crack mine thou shalt have thewhole, for I love a bout with the staff almost as well as I like Flemishwine."
Now the Norman prided himself upon his prowess with the staff. He wasalso a span taller than the Saxon. The uncouth garments of the latter,also, made him appear as though much beyond the time of youth, and sodisguised his stout limbs that the Norman could scarcely conceal hiscontempt for such an opponent. So he readily accepted the challenge, andat once the pair were toe to toe, and dealing blow or parry with rightgood will. The Saxon did not appear to very great advantage at thecommencement of the fray. Frequently he received slight blows here andthere, at which the Norman was visibly elated, and he led the attackwith much vigour, and equal recklessness. The Saxon seemed to shrinkfrom the onset, but there was a sly humour lurking about his wicked greyeye which was very ominous. Eventually taking a mild blow, withoutparrying, from his foe, the Saxon put a giant's strength into his arm,and like a thunderbolt his staff came down with a crash upon theNorman's skull, cutting open his head, and knocking him senseless on theground.
"Poor fellow!" said Badger, for it was he. "You don't know how sorry Ifeel to have to give you a crack like this; but less would hardly do thebusiness."
He quickly undid the Norman's doublet, and took from an inside pocketthe sealed message from De Montfort. Then he deposited a similar one inits place. Next, he went down to the river and steeped a cloth in thewater, then gently bathed the Norman's head, and staunched the bleeding,also carefully drawing the hair over it to hide the wound as much aspossible. He next poured down his throat some of the Flemish wine hecarried. The Norman slowly opened his eyes, and stared about him with adazed, unmeaning look.
"All right, my gallant fellow," said Badger. "Here you are. Have anothertaste of my bottle."
The Norman took a good long pull, which
seemed to revive himconsiderably. By degrees the whole scene came back to his stunnedsenses, and mechanically he put up his hand to his head, and felt thewound.
"You hound!" said he. "You've cracked my skull!"
"Not a bit of it, my hearty! Your skull is not so easy to crack. Theskin is peeled a little, that is all, and a day or two will put it rightagain."
"I trow not, nor a week or two either. You villain! You meant to brainme, I do believe!"
"Not a bit of it, comrade. Why, if I meant you harm, what so easy whilstyou have been lying here? The fact is, you beat me black and blue. Mylimbs will be sore for many a day after this. It was the first time Ihad touched you; and you were so eager to knock me out of it that youleft your head unguarded. Why, man, you had the best of it up to thelast stroke."
By touching up the Norman's vanity by such artful speeches, and bypouring good wine down his throat, the pair were speedily on good terms,and they parted the best of friends, Badger chuckling to his heart'scontent as he struck off on a short cut for the hills.
In the meantime, Oswald waited anxiously at an appointed place for thecoming of Badger, profoundly hoping that his mission would besuccessful. He knew that, excepting some untoward accident had happened,Badger would hang on to the heels of his man until, by either fair orfoul means, he secured the despatches. But he himself had prepared fordrastic means, if stratagem had failed. For failure to intercept themessage would probably mean disaster to the little Saxon colony on thehill. His mind, however, was greatly relieved as he beheld Badger in thedistance with beaming countenance, hurrying towards him.
"Well, I'm glad to see you, Badger. How has the business gone? Nomiscarriage, I hope?"
Badger made no reply, but, quickly hauling out the parchment from hisbosom, he handed it to Oswald.
"I trust this will make better answer than I can muster, my lord."
Oswald took the parchment, and quickly tore it open, and ran his eyesover its contents.
"All right, Badger. How came you by it? Does the messenger know that youhave relieved him of his message?"
"He has not the slightest idea. He trudged off, after carefullyascertaining, as he thought, that his packet was safe."
"You are the slyest rogue in the world, Badger, I do declare. Come, letus hear the news, how you came by this paper?"
So, as the pair journeyed on together, Badger, in high glee, told how hehad circumvented the Norman, and sent him on his journey with a crackedskull into the bargain, all of which Oswald highly relished.