It was Warrenton who brought Master Geoffrey his red-armored steed and
lance, after all; for, although Robin had had a voice in the choosing of
the horse, and had helped the retainer to bind the shaft and interlace
the cuirass and gyres with riband such as the knight had ordered, events
stayed Robin from going out with these appurtenances of war to the
Lady's Bower.
Young Fitzooth had been commanded to his mother's chamber so soon as he
had come out from his converse with the Squire. There befell an anxious
interview, Mistress Fitzooth arguing for and against the Squire's
project in a breath. Robin was perplexed indeed: his ambition was fired
by the Squire's rosy pictures of what he, as a true Montfichet, must
adhere to without fail upon assuming the name and mantle of Gamewell.
Most of all Robin thought of his father. What would he counsel? "Remain
Fitzooth, and fight your own way in the world, boy." That is what he
_might_ say. In the end Robin decided to sleep upon the matter. In any
case he would not consent to rob Geoffrey of his inheritance; and he
told old Gamewell this to his face. "When I am gone you can do what you
will with the place, boy," the old man had answered. "I have no son;
but, of course, the fees and revenues will be yours. If, for a whim, you
beggar yourself, I cannot stay you. But take it whilst I live; and wear
Montfichet's shield in the days when my eyes can be rejoiced by so
brave a sight, for you will ne'er disgrace our 'scutcheon, I warrant me.
Perchance 'tis Geoffrey's sole chance that _you_ should wear the badge
of Gamewell. I might choose to bequeath it elsewhere."
The lad had checked him then. "Never that, sir," he had said. "Let
Gamewell land be ruled, for ever, by Gamewell's proper lord. I pray you
to let me take counsel with my mother ere I answer you."
"It is what I would suggest myself. Go to her."
Then had come the argument with his mother, which had unsettled him more
than before.
He went down to discuss with Warrenton and Stuteley the means by which
they best could bring the horse and arms to Geoffrey, and it soon became
evident that no one other than Warrenton dare attempt it, for fear of
betraying the son to his still angry father.
"Are you sure, Warrenton, that you will perform this business right
carefully?" Robin asked, over and over again, until the old servant
became vexed.
"I am part of the house of Montfichet, lording," snapped Warrenton, at
last, "and it is not reasonable to think that I will turn against
myself, as it were. Be sure that the horse and his trappings will be
safely carried to my second master, Geoffrey, at the hour given. Do you
keep the Squire employed in talk; and find excuse to lie in the little
room next to his own that you may hear him if he moves."
So Robin and Will went back to the hall, and presently the Squire's
voice was heard through the arras which covered the north entrance to
the apartment. He was in deep converse with the clerk, and entered the
hall holding him by the arm. For a moment Robin and Will were
unperceived; then the Squire's bright, keen eyes discovered them.
"Now to bed, boy!" cried he, dropping his detaining hold of the priest.
"'Tis late; and I go myself within a short space. Dismiss your squire,
Robin, and bid me good e'en. An early sleeper maketh a sound man."
"Did I see you with Warrenton, Robin Fitzooth?" put in the clerk,
curiously. "I would fain have some talk with him on the matter of
archery. I am told that this old man can draw as pretty a bow as any in
Nottingham."
"As any in England, I would say," said Gamewell, proudly. "That is, in
his day. Now that age is upon Warrenton and his master, cunning in such
matters is to seek. Yet he will teach you a few tricks when morning is
come. Now kiss me, boy, and keep clear head and ready hand for the
joustings and games to-morrow. Good night; God keep thee, Robin."
He seemed to take it for granted that Robin would, in the end, consent
to become of the house of Gamewell. Already Squire George looked upon
him as heir to the hall and its acres; even as slowly did Warrenton, the
shrewd and faithful man-at-arms. Truth to tell, the old servant did not
regard the prospect with too kind an eye.
Young Fitzooth embraced his uncle, and bade him good night with real
affection. There was no chance to alter his sleeping-room to one nearer
to Gamewell's chamber.
When he had reached his chamber, again came the suspicion of Warrenton.
Robin unfastened his tunic slowly and thoughtfully. Presently he
crossed the floor of his room with decided step.
"Will," cried he, softly; and Stuteley, who had chosen his couch across
the door of his young master's chamber, sprang up at once in answer.
"Do you hold yourself ready, Will, so soon as the house is asleep. We
will go out together to the bower; there is a way down to the court from
my window. Rest and be still until I warn you."
Stuteley replied in a word to him; and, blowing out his taper, Robin
returned to his bed and flung himself upon it in patient expectation.
The hours passed wearily by, and movement could yet be heard about the
hall. The open lattice gave entry to all sound from the court below; and
from his window Robin could tell when the tapers in the hall were
extinguished. Thrice he got up from his bed, and his stock of patience
was slipping from him.
At last all was quiet and black in the courtyard of Gamewell.
"Will," whispered Robin, opening his door as he spoke, "are you ready?"
Stuteley nodded as he entered on pointed toes.
"From the window," explained Robin, pushing him towards the lattice. A
faint starry radiance illumined the sky, and dim shadows held the angles
and nooks of the court below them.
A dense ivy clung to and covered the walls of the house. To one of light
and agile body it gave fair footing. Robin had hands and feet in it in
a moment; and cautiously, adroitly came to the ground, and signalled to
Will Stuteley.
The little ex-tumbler would have liked to have done tricks and shown his
cleverness in the business, had there been time for it: as it was, Will
dropped beside Robin lightly and easily, and instantly the two began to
cross the court.
It was necessary for them to climb over the stables at their left hand.
Some dogs, hearing these quiet, stealthy footfalls, began to bay
furiously: and both the youths stayed themselves until the beasts went
grumbling and suspicious back to the kennels.
They then renewed their journey, and, under the better light, made a
safe crossing of the stable-roofs.
They managed at length to win the gardens, and then raced across the
open ground to gain the shelter of the yew-trees bordering the bower.
The pleasance, in the soft moonlight, looked ghostly enough: the statues
and stone ornaments placed about the place seemed to be instinct with
life and to wave signals of horror to Will's starting eyes.
At last they approached the hut, and Robin saw in the bright moonlight
that the door gaped black at them. There was no sign to betray either
Warrenton or Geoffrey to him. Robin entered the hut, dragging the
unwilling esquire after him.
A draught of chill air puffed in their faces as they entered; and a
great owl blundered screamingly out into the night, the rush and noise
of it startling Will to a cold ecstasy of terror. He would have plunged
madly back to the hall had not Robin held firmly to him.
"Be not so foolish, friend," said Fitzooth, crossly. His voice took his
father's tone, as always happened when he was angered.
They moved thereafter cautiously about the hut, groping before and about
them to find something to show that Warrenton had fulfilled his mission.
Presently Will stumbled and fell, pulling down Robin atop of him.
Robin, putting out his hand to save himself, found that his fingers
grasped nothing but air. They were upon the verge of an open trap, in
the far corner of the hut; and Stuteley had tripped over the edge of the
reversed flap-mouth of this pit. Fitzooth's hand rested at last upon the
top rung of a ladder, and slowly the truth came to him. Quickly he drew
himself up and whispered the discovery to the other.
In an instant, then, their fears were dispelled. Will would have gone
down first into the pit had not Robin stayed him. Stuteley was anxious
that his young master should come to no harm; and where a danger
appeared an earthly one, he was quite willing to bear the brunt of it.
It was thought of the Yellow Woman which dried up all the courage in his
small, wiry body.
Robin carefully descended the ladder and found himself soon upon firm
rocky ground. Stuteley was by his side in a flash: and then they both
began feeling about them to ascertain the shape and character of this
vault. Hardly had they commenced when Robin's quick ears took warning.
Sound of a quiet approach was plain.
The darkness of the pit was suddenly illumined, and the lads found
themselves suddenly faced by the beams of a lanthorn suspended at about
a man's height in the air. From the blackness behind the light they
heard a voice--Warrenton's!
"Save me, masters, but you startled me rarely!" cried he, waving the
lanthorn before him to make sure that these were no ghosts in front of
him. "I have but this minute left Master Montfichet, having carried his
horse to him in safety. He rides into Nottingham to-morrow, unattended.
I would that I might be squire to him!"
"Did you indeed bring horse and arms down this ladder, Warrenton?"
enquired Robin, with his suspicions still upon him. "Truly such a horse
should be worth much in Nottingham Fair! I would dearly have loved to
see so brave a business----"
"Nay, nay, lording," answered Warrenton, with a half-laugh. "See"--and
again he waved his light, showing them where the underground passage,
for such it was, sloped upward to another and larger trap, now closed.
"This way is one of the many secret ones about Gamewell, master: but do
you keep the knowledge of it to yourselves, I beg, unless you would wish
hurt to our future lord of Gamewell."
Warrenton spoke thus with significance, to show Robin that he was not to
think Geoffrey's claims to the estate would be passed by. Robin Fitzooth
saw that his doubts of Warrenton had been unfair: and he became ashamed
of himself for harboring them.
"Give me your hand, Warrenton, and help me to climb these steps," said
he, openly. "'Tis dark, for all your lamp; and I fain would feel
friendly assistance, such as you can give."
His tones rang pleasantly on Warrenton's ears, and forthwith a
good-fellowship was heralded between them. This was to mean much to the
young hero of Locksley in the time to come; for Warrenton's help and
tuition were to make Robin Fitzooth something far better than the clever
bowman he was already. This night, in a way, saw the beginning of
Robin's fortunes and strange, adventurous after-life.
The old servant told him quietly as they crept back to Gamewell that
this passage-way led from the hut in the pleasance to Sherwood; and that
Geoffrey for the time was hiding with the outlaws in the forest. "Our
master is to be recognized by us as the Scarlet Knight at Nottingham
Fair should one ask of us, lording," Warrenton told him. "He implores us
to be discreet as the grave in this matter, for in sooth his life is in
the hollow of our hands."
The old servant spoke no more. In silence he led them back into Gamewell
by the private door through the stables by which he had himself emerged.
They regained their apartment, apparently without disturbing the
household of Gamewell. Only did one pair of eyes and ears look and
listen for them, and observe both their exit and return. It was the
Clerk of Copmanhurst's door that stood ajar; his busy mind that employed
itself in speculation as to the cause and meaning of this midnight
adventure.