IV
THE MAN ON HORSEBACK
Gavan of the Greenwood Keep was a prosperous man according to thestandard of these latter days, and his estate was reckoned to be thelargest and finest holding in all the western country-side. A man mightwalk from break of day until darkness and yet not complete the peripheryof its boundary-lines, but the palisaded portion included only thearable land and home paddocks and was of comparatively limited extent.Viewed from a bird's-eye elevation, this stockaded enclosure appeared tobe laid out in the shape of a pear, the house being situated near thesmall end. The greatest length of the area thus enclosed was a mile anda half, and it was three-quarters of a mile wide at the big or southernside, tapering down to a couple of hundred yards at the northernentrance or barrier.
A quarter of a mile back from the north gate stood the keep, not onedistinct building, but rather several, built in the form of a hollowsquare and consolidated for mutual protection. The principal entrance,the one at the northern end, was called the water gate, for it should beexplained that the keep stood on the bank of the Ochre brook and accesswas only possible by means of a drawbridge. Some day Sir Gavan intendedto turn the course of the stream so as to carry it around the keep andthereby secure the protection of a continuous moat. But hitherto otherduties had seemed more pressing, and the plan was still in abeyance.
Entering through the covered way of the water gate, with guard-room andbailiff's office to the right and left, one found himself in thecourt-yard, some fifty yards in the square. On the right were thecow-barns, horse-stalls, granaries, tool-houses, and store-buildings,while the dwelling proper, known as the Great House, occupied the entireleft of the square, the kitchens and other offices adjoining theretainers' quarters on the south. An enormous hall, running clear to theroof, took up the central portion of the house, staircases and galleriesaffording access to the store and sleeping-rooms on the second and atticstories. The roof proper was surmounted by a para-petted and loop-holedstructure called the fighting platform, and it was thither that Constanshad repaired upon receiving the startling intelligence of his sister'sdisappearance. Let us rejoin him there.
In the leisurely moving figure glimpsed through the birches, Constanshad instantly recognized Issa. Plainly she had been out flower-hunting;with the aid of his binoculars he could determine that she carried abunch of the delicate pink-and-white blossoms that we call May-bloom.She was directing her steps straight for the house, but either she wasunaccountably deaf to the continuous clanging of the alarm-bell or,still more strangely, unaware of its significance; she walked as thoughin a reverie, slowly and with her head bent forward. Thunder of God! itwas a trap, and the foolish girl would not see. Unquestionably, theDoomsmen had forced the stockade at some distant point and were even nowin ambush about the keep. But Constans, for all his keenness of visionand the assistance of his glass, could discover nothing to indicate thepresence of any considerable body of men. There was no one in actualsight save he who sat upon his blood-bay steed, girth deep in the Ochrebrook under shadow of the alders. Only one, but that one!
Constans found himself in the court-yard; how he scarcely knew. Thewater gate still stood open with the drawbridge lowered, but both couldbe easily secured within a few seconds should the enemy venture upon anyopen demonstration. Sir Gavan stood in the covered way talking anxiouslywith his eldest son Tennant, who had just returned from an unsuccessfulsearch of the upper orchard.
Constans, in his confusion of mind, did not notice his father andbrother; he ran across the court-yard to the horse-boxes. His black mareNight whickered upon recognizing her master, and tried to rub her muzzleagainst his cheek as he fumbled with the throat-latch of the bridle. Aninstant longer, to lead out the mare and vault upon her back, and he wasclattering through the court-yard and covered way.
Upon reaching the open Constans saw that the situation had developedinto a crisis. The cavalier of the ostrich-feather had forced his horseup the steep bank of the Ochre brook and was riding slowly towards thegirl, who stood motionless, realizing her perilous position, but unablefor the moment to cope with it. She half turned, as though to seek againthe shelter of the birchen copse; then, clutching at her impedingskirts, she ran in the direction of the keep. He of the ostrich-plumespurred to the gallop; inevitably their paths must intersect a few yardsfarther on.
From behind came the noise of men shouting and the thud of quarrelsimpinging upon stout oak; the Doomsmen, hitherto in hiding, were makinga diversion, in answer, doubtless, to a signal from their leader. Ahundred gray-garbed men showed themselves in the open, coming from theshelter of the fir plantation back of the rickyards; they ran towardsthe open water gate, exposing themselves recklessly in their eagernessto reach it.
But the defenders were not to be surprised so easily, and Constans,glancing backward, saw that the drawbridge was already in the air andthe gate closed. The outlaws, realizing that the surprise was a failure,and unwilling to brave the arrows sent whistling about their ears fromthe fighting platforms of the keep, fell back in some disorder. At thesame moment a solitary figure appeared, emerging as though by magic fromthe solid wall of the keep--Sir Gavan himself, a father forgetful of allelse but the peril of his children. He must have used the "Rat's-Hole"for egress; he hurried down the green slope, calling his daughter byname. All this Constans saw in that swift backward glance. Well, therewas but one thing that he could do.
And Night knew it, too; brave little Night, how cleverly you forcedyourself under the towering bulk of that brute of a blood-bay! A thunderof hoofs and they were in touch; Constans felt himself hurled intospace; the bridle-reins of tough plaited leather were torn from hishands; Night and he were down.
The dust cloud cleared and the boy struggled up, although his head wasstill spinning from the shock of the encounter. Ten yards away lay theblack mare with a broken foreleg. She was trying to rise, her eyesglazed with pain and her flanks heaving horribly.
The blood-bay had kept his feet and his master his saddle--a hardy pair,these two. But the desperate expedient had proved successful in thatIssa was safe. Already Sir Gavan had her in his arms, and before thehorseman had fully found himself the fugitives were under the shadow ofthe keep's walls.
The question of his own danger did not immediately concern Constans; hehad no eyes for anything but Night lying there in her agony. His fatherhad given him the horse when she was a foal of a week old, and Constanshad broken and trained her himself. Well, she had served him faithfully,and in return he would show her the last mercy. His knife-sheath hungfrom his girdle; he drew out the blade and drove it home just behind theglossy black shoulder. Night shuddered and lay still. The knife hadsunken deep, and Constans had to exert all his strength to withdraw it.The bare point of a rapier touched him meaningly on the arm; he stood upand faced his enemy.
The man on horseback laughed softly. "Oho, my young cockerel, it was buta touch of the gaff, and now that you are ready is reason sufficient whyI should prefer to wait. But that neither of us may forget--" He bentdown and caught Constans by the shoulders, turning him around andforcing him backward until his head rested against the blood-bay'swithers. Two slashes of his hunting-knife and a tiny, triangular nickappeared on the upper part of the lad's right ear.
"That is my sign-manual of which I spoke to you an hour or more ago. Itis Quinton Edge's mark, as all men know, and it brands whatever bears itas Quinton Edge's property. Some day I may deem it worth while to claimmy own; until then you can be my caretaker, my tenant. What! no answer?And yet it is a generous offer, I think, considering how sore my arm hasgrown and how impertinently you behaved just now in interfering betweenme and a lady. Light of God! but she is a bewitching bundle offemineity. But twice, boy, have I seen her; hardly a dozen words havepassed----"
He stopped abruptly and gazed hard at Constans. Then slowly:
"Your sister, I take it; there is the same straight line of eyebrow. Noanswer again? Well, we will pass it over for the nonce; you have stillmany things to learn, and, chi
efly, to becomingly order body and soul inthe presence of your lord. After all, it pleases me better to have thelast word from the lady's own lips; she had been most discourteouslytreated, and I would fain be shriven. Until we meet again, then."
The cavalier put spur to the blood-bay's flank and rode straight for theGreat House. The boy stood staring after him; he did not notice thetrickle of blood from the cut in his ear; he was not even conscious thathe was still in life. He remembered only the unforgivable affront whichthis man had put upon him, the mark which was the infamous badge of thebondman, the slave. Quinton Edge! Ah, yes; he would remember that faceand name.
The Doomsman had ridden in cool defiance up to the very walls of thekeep. It would have been an easy matter for one of the garrison to havebored his gay jacket through with a feathered shaft, and for a momentConstans trembled, fearing lest some overzealous partisan should thusrob him of his future vengeance. But the very audacity of the man provedthe saving of his skin. They were brave men who manned the fightingplatforms of the Greenwood Keep, and they could not bring themselves toset upon naked courage.
Constans fancied that the man spoke to some one who stood hidden in thedeep embrasure of a window, but it was too far to either see or hear.Then it seemed that a small object fell lightly from the window-sill.The Doomsman caught it dexterously and fastened it on his breast.Another low bow and, wheeling his horse, he dashed down the slope.Constans ran blindly to meet him; why, he did not know. He who namedhimself Quinton Edge swerved slightly in his course so as to pass withinarm's-length, calling out as he did so:
"Gage of battle and gage of love; a fortunate day for me. Believe methat at some future time I shall answer for them both."
It was a sprig of the May-bloom that the cavalier wore in hisbutton-hole; Constans had only time to recognize it when the blood-baybroke into full gallop. The lad flung himself at full length upon theturf, face downward, and lay there motionless.