CHAPTER XVI -- THE ESCAPE

Maître Leroux came in shortly after Jules Varoy had left. He had not,

until the man told him, heard of the events of the night before, and Guy

had to tell him all about it before anything else was said.

"It was a lucky escape, Master Aylmer, if one can call luck what is due to

thought and quickness. Is there anything I can do for you?"

"This black hue that I gave my hair has been of good service to me

hitherto, but as it is a youth with black hair that they are now looking

for, I would fain change its hue again."

"What dye did you use?"

"It was bought for me at a perfumer's in the Rue Cabot. As you see, it is

fading now, and the ducking last night has greatly assisted to wash it

out. The shopman said that it was used by court ladies and would last for

a long time, but I have already had to renew it four or five times. I

would now colour my hair a red or a reddish-brown; if I cannot do that I

must crop it quite short. It matters nothing in this disguise whether it

is altogether out of the fashion or not. What think you?"

"Doubtless you could get dyes of any shade at the perfumer's you speak of,

for he supplies most of the court ladies with dyes and perfumes; and I

should say that reddish-brown dye would suit you well, since that differs

a good deal from your hair's original colour and still more from what it

is at present. I will ask one of Lepelletiere's daughters to fetch it for

you. It would be better than cutting it short, though that might not go

badly with your present disguise, but should you need to adopt any other

it would look strange, since in our days there is scarce anyone but wears

his hair down to his shoulders. In the meantime I would have you wash your

hair several times with a ley of potash, but not too strong, or it will

damage it. I warrant me that will take out the dye altogether; but be sure

that you wash it well in pure water afterwards, so as to get rid of the

potash, for that might greatly affect the new dye. I will send a boy up

with some potash to you at once, so that you may be ready to apply the dye

as soon as you get it."

Late in the afternoon Guy sallied out in the disguise in which he had

arrived. His hair was a tawny brown. He had left his basket behind him,

and carried a heavy cudgel in his hand. He sauntered quietly along,

stopping often to stare at the goods on the stalls, and at nobles who rode

past followed generally by two or three esquires. No one would doubt that

he was a young countryman freshly arrived in Paris.

He had sent a message to the count by Jules Varoy that he would pass along

the street in the disguise of a young peasant as the clock struck seven,

and that if he saw no White Hoods about he would look up at the casement,

return a minute or two afterwards, and then try if the door was

unfastened. If so he would come in, while if it were fastened he should

consider that it was judged unsafe for him to enter. He caught sight of

Katarina's face at the window as he glanced up. There was a patrol of the

White Hoods in sight, but it was far down the street, and after going a

few yards past the house he crossed the road, and as he returned he pushed

at the door. It yielded at once, and with a glance round to see that no

one was watching he entered quickly and closed it behind him.

"The Madonna be thanked that you are safe!" Katarina, now in her girl's

dress, exclaimed as she seized his hand. "Oh, Monsieur Guy, how I have

suffered! It was not until two o'clock that my father returned and told us

that you were safe; I should never have forgiven myself if harm had come

to you from your noble effort to save me. I heard their shouts as they ran

in pursuit of you, and scarce thought it possible that you could escape

when there was so many of their patrols about in the street. I cried all

night at the thought that you should have thrown away your life to try to

save mine, for I knew well enough what would have happened had that evil

butcher dragged me to his quarter. After my father had been out early and

brought back the news that you had leapt into the Seine we had some little

hope, for Dame Margaret declared that she knew that you could swim well.

We had no one we could send out, for the old woman is too stupid, and my

father now strictly forbids me to stir outside the door. So here we all

sat worn with anxiety until my father returned from the booth with the

news. He could not come back earlier, and he had no one to send, for the

black man must keep outside amusing the people as long as my father is

there."

All this was poured out so rapidly that it was said by the time they

reached the door upstairs. Dame Margaret silently held out her hands to

Guy as he entered, and Agnes kissed him with sisterly affection, while

Charlie danced round and round him with boisterous delight.

"I hardly knew how much you were to me and how much I depended upon you,

Guy," Dame Margaret said presently, "until I feared that I had lost you.

When, as I thought must be the case from what Katarina said, I believed

you were killed or a prisoner in the hands of those terrible people, it

seemed to me that we were quite left alone, although there still remained

the four men. Neither Agnes nor I closed our eyes all night Charlie soon

cried himself to sleep, Katarina sat up with us till nigh morning, and we

had hard work to console her in any way, so deep was her grief at the

thought that it was owing to her that you had run this peril. All night we

could hear the count walking up and down in the room above. He had pointed

out the peril that might arise to us all if you had fallen into the hands

of the butchers, but at the time we could not dwell on that, though there

were doubtless grounds for his fears."

"Great grounds, madame. That is what I most feared when I was flying from

them, and I was resolved that I would not be taken alive, for had I not

gained the bridge I was determined to force them to kill me rather than be

captured. It was fortunate, indeed, that I came along when I did,

Katarina, for had I not heard what Simon said I should have passed on

without giving a thought to the matter. There are too many evil deeds done

in Paris to risk one's life to rescue a prisoner from the hands of a

patrol of the White Hoods."

"As for me, I did not realize it until it was all over," Katarina said. "I

felt too frightened even to think clearly. It was not until the shouts of

your pursuers had died away that I could realize what you had saved me

from, and the thought made me so faint and weak that I was forced to sit

down on a door-step for a time before I could make my way home. As to my

father, he turned as pale as death when I came in and told him what had

happened."

Shortly afterwards the count, who had been engaged with a person of

consequence, came down. He thanked Guy in the warmest terms for the

service he had rendered his daughter.

"Never was a woman in greater peril," he said, "and assuredly St. Anthony,

my patron saint, must have sent you to her rescue. She is all that I have

left now, and it is chiefly for her sake that I have continued to amass

money, though I say not that my own fancy for meddling in such intrigues

may not take some part in the matter. After this I am resolved of one

thing, namely, that she shall take no further part in the business. For

the last year I had often told myself that the time had come when I must

find another to act as my messenger and agent. It was difficult, however,

to find one I could absolutely trust, and I have put the matter off. I

shall do so no longer; and indeed there is now the less occasion for it,

since, as I have just learned, fresh negotiations have been opened for

peace. That it will be a lasting one I have no hope, but the Orleanists

are advancing in such force that Burgundy may well feel that the issue of

a battle at present may go against him. But even though it last but a

short time, there will come so many of the Orleanist nobles here with

doubtless strong retinues that Paris will be overawed, and we shall have

an end of these riots here. I shall, therefore, have no need to trouble as

to what is going on at the markets. As to other matters I can keep myself

well informed. I have done services to knights and nobles of one party as

well as the other, and shall be able to learn what is being done in both

camps. The important point at present is, Lady Margaret, that there is

like to be a truce, at any rate for a time. As soon as this is made and

the Duke of Aquitaine has gained power to act you may be sure that the

leaders of the White Hoods will be punished, and there will be no more

closing of gates and examination of those who pass in and out. Therefore,

madame, you will then be able to do what is now well-nigh impossible,

namely, quit the town. At present the orders are more stringent than ever,

none are allowed to leave save with orders signed by John de Troyes, who

calls himself keeper of the palace, Caboche, or other leaders and even

peasants who come in with market goods must henceforth produce papers

signed by the syndics of their villages saying they are the inhabitants of

his commune, and therefore quiet and peaceable men going about their

business of supplying the city with meat or vegetables, as the case may

be. These papers must also be shown on going out again. Until a change

takes place, then, there is no hope of your making your way out through

the gates with your children; but as soon as the truce is concluded and

the Orleanists come in you will be able to pass out without trouble."

It was not, indeed, for another month that the truce was settled, although

the terms were virtually agreed upon at Pontois, where the Dukes of Berri

and Burgundy met the Dukes of Orleans and Bourbon and the other Orleanist

nobles, and the conditions were considered at a council to which the

delegates of the University and the municipality of Paris were admitted.

The conduct of the insurgents of Paris was now repudiated by the Duke of

Burgundy, and the severest, censure passed upon them, in the conditions of

the treaty. The greatest alarm was excited in the market quarter, and this

was increased when, immediately afterwards, the Dukes of Bar and Bavaria

were liberated. On the 12th of August and on the 4th of September the rest

of the prisoners still left alive were also set free. The bells of the

churches rang a joyful peal. De Jacqueville, John de Troyes, Caboche, and

many of the leaders of the butchers at once fled from Paris.

Most of the knights who had been agents for the insurgents in the mock

trials also left Paris, and shortly afterwards the duke himself, finding

how strongly the tide had set against him, and fearing that he himself

might shortly be seized and thrown into prison, went out from Paris under

the pretence of hunting, and fled. During this time Guy had remained with

the four men-at-arms. As soon as the power of the butchers diminished and

the guards were removed from the gates, and all who pleased could enter or

leave, Dame Margaret prepared for flight. Along with the Burgundian

knights and nobles who returned after the truce was proclaimed came Count

Charles d'Estournel, and several of those who had fled with him. Guy met

the former riding through the street on the day after his return to Paris.

Not caring to accost him there, he followed him and saw him dismount at

his former lodging. As soon as he had entered Guy went up to the door.

"What do you want?" one of the count's valets said.

"I want to see your master, fellow," Guy said sharply, "and I will pull

your ears for your insolence if you accost me in that style."

The valet stared at him open-mouthed, then thinking that this peasant

might be deputed by the terrible butchers to see his lord, he inquired in

a changed tone what message he should give to the count.

"Say to him that the man of the street fray wants to see him."

A minute later the young count himself ran downstairs and warmly embraced

Guy, to the astonishment of the valet.

"My dear friend," he exclaimed, "I am indeed delighted to see you! Twice

have you saved my life, for assuredly had we not got through the Port St.

Denis that day not one of us would ever have left Paris alive, and we are

all under the deepest obligation to you. But even after our skirmish at

the gate we scarcely realized the danger that we had escaped, for we

believed that even had the Parisians been insolent enough to demand our

arrest for stopping them when engaged in attacking the houses of peaceable

citizens, the duke would treat their demand with the scorn that it

deserved. However, when next day we heard that some of the officers of his

household had headed them when they forced their way into the Duke of

Aquitaine's hotel, and carried off the Duke of Bar and others from before

his eyes, and that the duke in all things assisted them, we knew that he

would not have hesitated to deliver us up to the villains.

"We held a council as to what we should do. We could not affirm that he

had failed, as our lord, in giving us protection, for he had not done so,

seeing that we had taken the matter in our own hands. Had he actually

consented to hand us over to the Parisians, we should have issued a

declaration laying the matter before all the great vassals of Burgundy and

denouncing him as a false lord. There are many who would have been very

glad to have taken up the matter, for his truckling to these knaves has

greatly displeased all save the men who are mere creatures of his.

However, as we had no proof that he was willing to surrender us to the

fury of the mob of Paris, we could do nothing, and the crafty fox called

upon my father the next day and expressed his satisfaction that we had all

ridden away, though at the same time saying that there was no reason

whatever for our having done so, as he should of course have refused to

give any satisfaction to the mob of Paris, and he caused several letters

to the same effect to be sent to my friends who escaped with me.

"My father was very short with him, and told him that as it seemed the

Parisians were the masters of the city, and that he had no power to

restrain them, however monstrous their doings, he thought that we had all

acted very wisely in going. He himself left Paris the next day, and

several other nobles, relations or friends to some of us, took the

earliest opportunity also of leaving for their estates. Now that the power

of the butchers has been broken and that their leaders have fled, I came

back again, chiefly to find out what had become of you, and whether you

and your charges have passed through these evil times unharmed."

"We have all been in hiding, and save for an adventure or two have passed

the time quietly. Now that the gates are open we are going to make our

escape, for you see everything points to the probability that the

Orleanists will very shortly be supreme here, and after the defeat Sir

Eustace gave Sir Clugnet de Brabant they might be glad still to retain our

lady as hostage, though methinks they would treat her more honourably than

the Duke of Burgundy has done."

"Possibly they might, but I would not count upon it, for indeed wherever

they have taken a town they have treated those who fell into their hands

most barbarously. 'Tis true that they have some excuse for it in the

treatment of so many knights and ladies here. Indeed it seems to me that

France has been seized with madness, and that Heaven's vengeance will fall

upon her for the evil things that are being done. And now, can we aid you

in any way? The duke was extremely civil when I saw him on my arrival here

yesterday. He said that I and my friends were wrong in not having trusted

in him to protect us from the demands of the butchers. I told him frankly

that as he had in other matters been so overborne by them, and had been

unable to save noble knights and ladies from being murdered by them under

the pretence of a trial that all men knew was a mockery, it was just as

well that we had taken the matter into our own hands without adding it to

his other burdens; and that I and my friends felt that we had no reason to

regret the step we had taken, and we knew that our feelings were shared by

many other nobles and knights in Burgundy.

"He looked darkly at me, but at the present pass he did not care to say

anything that would give offence, not only to me, but to my friends, who

with their connections are too powerful to be alienated at a time when he

may need every lance. I could not, however, well ask from him a free

conduct for your people without naming them, but I might get such a pass

from his chancellor, and if your former host, Maître Leroux, be still

alive, he might doubtless get you one from the municipality. As an

additional protection I myself shall certainly ride with you. It is for

that that I have returned to Paris. I shall simply say to the chancellor

that I am riding to Arras on my own business, and that though in most

places I should be known to Burgundians, yet that it would be as well that

I should have a pass lest I be met by any rude body of citizens or others

who might not know me, and I shall request him to make it out for me

personally and for all persons travelling in my train. So that, as far as

Flanders at any rate, there should be no difficulty. I only propose that

you should also get a document from the city in case of anything befalling

us on the way.

"I see not indeed what can befall us; but it is always well in such times

as these, when such strange things occur, to provide for all emergencies.

I may tell you that Louis de Lactre and Reginald Poupart have arrived with

me in Paris bent on the same errand, and anxious like myself to testify

their gratitude to you; so that we shall be a strong body, and could if

necessary ride through France without any pass at all, since one or other

of us is sure to find a friend in every town which we may traverse."

"Truly, I am thankful indeed to you and to your friends, Count. I own that

it has been a sore trouble to me as to how we should be able, however we

might disguise ourselves, to travel through the country in these disturbed

times, without papers of any kind, when bodies of armed men are moving to

and fro in all directions, and travellers, whoever they may be, are

questioned at every place on the road where they stop."

"Do not speak of thanks, Guy; I twice owe you my life, and assuredly 'tis

little enough to furnish you in return with an escort to Artois. Now, tell

me all that you have been doing since we left."

Guy gave a short account of all that had happened.

"It has been fortunate for us both," the Count Charles said when he had

finished, "that this astrologer should have made your acquaintance; it was

his warning that enabled you to save us as well as your lady. I have heard

several times of him as one who had wondrous powers of reading the stars,

but now I see that it is not only the stars that assist him."

"I can assure you that he himself believes thoroughly in the stars, Count;

he says that by them he can read the danger that is threatening any person

whose horoscope he has cast. I had not heard much of such things in

England, but I cannot doubt that he has great skill in them. To my

knowledge he has saved several lives thereby."

"He certainly saved ours, Guy, and should he like to join your party and

ride with us he will be heartily welcomed."

"I will return at once," Guy said, "and give my lady the good news. I will

not ask you to go with me now, for if the count--for he is really a

nobleman though an exile--decides to stay here he would not care to

attract the attention of his neighbours by the coming of a noble to his

house in daylight. Though I cannot without his permission take you there,

I will return here this evening at eight o'clock, if you will be at home

at that hour."

"I will be here, and De Lactre and Poupart will be here to meet you. I

will go now direct to the chancellor and obtain the pass both in their

names and mine, then we shall be ready to start whenever your lady is

prepared. We have all brought some spare horses, so that you will have no

trouble on that score. Your men-at-arms will, of course, ride with ours.

We have brought eight horses, knowing the number of your company; if your

Italian and his daughter go with us Lady Agnes and Charles can ride behind

some of us."

Dame Margaret, Agnes, and Charlie were delighted indeed when they heard

from Guy of his meeting with the young Count d'Estournel, and of the

latter's offer to escort them to Artois.

"The saints be praised!" his lady said. "I have spoken little about it,

Guy, but I have dreaded this journey far more than any of the dangers

here. In times so disturbed I have perceived that we should run

innumerable risks, and eager as I am to return to my lord I have doubted

whether, with Agnes with me, I should be right in adventuring on such a

journey. Now there can be no risk in it, saving only that of falling in

with any of the bands of robbers who, as they say, infest the country, and

even these would scarce venture to attack so strong a party. We shall be

ready to start to-morrow, if Count d'Estournel is prepared to go so soon.

We will be veiled as we ride out. It is most unlikely that anyone will

recognize us, but 'tis as well for his sake that there should be no risk

whatever of this being known. The count is out and will not return until

six, therefore it will be best that you should go at once and warn the

others that we start to-morrow."

The pleasure of Long Tom and his companions at the news was scarcely less

than had been that of Dame Margaret, and they started at once to recover

their steel caps and armour from the place where they had been hidden,

saying that it would take them all night to clean them up and make them

fit for service. Then Guy went in to Maître Lepelletiere and saw the

silversmith, who was also sincerely glad at the news he gave him.

"I was but yesterday arranging for a house where I could open my shop

again until my own was rebuilt," he said, "for there is an end now of all

fear of disturbances, at any rate for the present, and I was heartily

greeted by many old friends, who thought that I was dead. I will go down

with Lepelletiere this afternoon to the offices of the municipality and

ask for a pass for madame--what shall I call her?"

"Call her Picard: it matters not what surname she takes."

"Madame Picard, her daughter and son, and her cousin Jean Bouvray of

Paris, to journey to St. Omer. It does not seem to me that the pass is

likely to be of any use to you; at the same time it is as well to be

fortified with it. Now that the tyranny of the market-men is over they

will be glad to give us the pass without question."

On the Italian's return that afternoon Dame Margaret herself told him of

the offer the Count d'Estournel had made. He sat silent for a minute or

two and then said: "I will talk it over with Katarina; but at present it

does not seem to me that I can accept it. I am a restless spirit, and

there is a fascination in this work; but I will see you presently."

An hour later he came down with Katarina.

"We have agreed to stay, Lady Margaret," he said gravely, "I cannot bring

myself to go. It is true that I might continue my work in London, but as a

stranger it would be long before I found clients, while here my reputation

is established. Two of the knights I enabled to escape have already

returned. One called upon me last night and was full of gratitude,

declaring, and rightly, that he should have been, like so many of his

friends, murdered in prison had I not warned him. I have eight requests

already for interviews from friends of these knights, and as, for a time

at any rate, their faction is likely to be triumphant here, I shall have

my hands full of business. This is a pleasant life. I love the exercise of

my art, to watch how the predictions of the stars come true, to fit things

together, and to take my share, though an unseen one, in the politics and

events of the day. I have even received an intimation that the queen

herself is anxious to consult the stars, and it may be that I shall become

a great power here. I would fain that my daughter should go under your

protection, though I own that I should miss her sorely. However, she

refuses to leave me, and against my better judgment my heart has pleaded

for her, and I have decided that she shall remain. She will, however, take

no further part in my business, but will be solely my companion and

solace. I trust that with such protection as I shall now receive there is

no chance of even the Church meddling with me, but should I see danger

approaching I will send or bring her to you at once."

"I shall be glad to see her whenever she comes, and shall receive her as a

daughter. We owe our lives to your shelter and kindness, and we already

love her."

"The shelter and the kindness have already been far more than repaid by

the inestimable service your esquire rendered us," the Italian said. "I

have since blamed myself bitterly that I neglected to consult the stars

concerning her. I have since done so, and found that a most terrible

danger threatened her on that day; and had I known it, I would have kept

her indoors and would on no account have permitted her to go out. However,

I shall not be so careless of her safety in future. I see that, at any

rate for some time, her future is unclouded. She herself will bitterly

regret your absence, and has already been weeping sorely at the thought of

your leaving. Save myself she has never had a friend, poor child, and you

and your daughter have become very dear to her."

Dame Margaret had no preparations to make, for in their flight from the

silversmith's each had carried a bundle of clothes. Guy brought Count

d'Estournel round in the evening, and the arrangements were then

completed. It was thought better that they should not mount at the house,

as this would be certain to attract considerable observation and remark,

but that Count Charles should come round at seven in the morning and

escort them to his lodging. There the horses would be in readiness, and

they would mount and ride off. Guy then went round to the Rue des Fosses

and warned the men of the hour at which they were to assemble at the

count's. He found them all hard at work burnishing up their armour.

"We shall make but a poor show, Master Guy, do what we will," Tom said;

"and I doubt whether this gear will ever recover its brightness, so deeply

has the rust eaten into it. Still, we can pass muster on a journey; and

the swords have suffered but little, having been safe in their scabbards.

I never thought that I should be so pleased to put on a steel cap again,

and I only wish I had my bow slung across my shoulder."

"It will be something for you to look forward to, Tom, and I doubt not

that you will find among the spare ones at Villeroy one as good as your

own, and that with practice you will soon be able to shoot as truly with

it."

Tom shook his head doubtfully. "I hope so, but I doubt whether I shall be

suited again till I get home, and Master John the bowyer makes one

specially suitable for me, and six inches longer than ordinary. Still, I

doubt not that, if it be needed, I shall be able to make shift with one of

those at Villeroy."

The evening before the departure of Dame Margaret and her children, Maître

Leroux and his wife, with a man bearing a large parcel, had called upon

Dame Margaret at the house of the astrologer, whose address Guy had given,

the provost that day.

"We could not let you leave, Lady Margaret," his wife said, "without

coming to wish you God speed. Our troubles, like yours, are over for the

present, and I trust that the butchers will never become masters of Paris

again, whatever may happen."

"Maître Lepelletiere," said the silversmith, "is going to organize the

whole of his craft, the workmen and apprentices, into an armed body, and

the master of the smiths will do the same. I shall endeavour to prevail

upon all the traders of my own guild and others to raise such a body among

their servitors; and while we have no wish whatever to interfere in the

political affairs of state, we shall at least see that the market people

of Paris shall not become our masters again. Master Aylmer, I have brought

hither for you a slight token of my regard and gratitude for the manner in

which you saved not only our property but our lives. Within this package

are two suits of armour and arms. One is a serviceable one suitable to

your present condition of an esquire; the other is a knightly suit, which

I hope you will wear in remembrance of us as soon as you obtain that

honour, which I cannot but feel assured will not be far distant. Had you

been obliged to leave Paris in disguise I should have made an endeavour to

send them to you in England by way of Flanders; but as you will issue out

in good company, and without examination or question asked, you can wear

the one suit and have the other carried for you."

Guy thanked the silversmith most heartily, for, having lost his armour at

the burning of the house, he had felt some uneasiness at the thought of

the figure that he would cut riding in the train of the three Burgundian

knights. But at the same time his own purse had been exhausted in the

purchase of the disguises for himself and the men-at-arms, and that of his

mistress greatly reduced by the expenses of the keep of the men, and he

had determined not to draw upon her resources for the purchase of armour.

His thanks were repeated when, on the package being opened, the beauty of

the knightly armour was seen. It was indeed a suit of which any knight

might be proud. It was less ornate in its inlaying and chasing than some

of the suits worn by nobles, but it was of the finest steel and best make,

with every part and accessory complete, and of the highest workmanship and

finish.

"It is a princely gift, sir," Guy said as he examined it, "and altogether

beyond my poor deserts."

"That is not what I think, Master Aylmer. You have shown all through this

business a coolness and courage altogether beyond your years, and which

would have done honour to an experienced knight. My store of silver-ware

that was saved by your exertions, to say nothing of our lives, was worth

very many times the value of this armour, and I am sure that your lady

will agree with me that this gift of ours has been well and honourably

earned."

"I do indeed, Maître Leroux," Dame Margaret said warmly; "and assure you

that I am as pleased as Guy himself at the noble gift you have made him. I

myself have said but little to him as to the service that he has rendered

here, leaving that until we reach our castle in safety, when Sir Eustace,

on hearing from me the story of our doings, will better speak in both our

names than I can do."

In the morning Dame Margaret and her children set out for the lodging of

D'Estournel, escorted by the count and Guy, followed by a porter carrying

the latter's second suit of armour and the valises of Dame Margaret. Guy

himself had charge of a casket which the Count de Montepone had that

morning handed to Dame Margaret.

"These are gems of value," he said, "In the course of my business I more

often receive gifts of jewels than of money. The latter, as I receive it,

I hand to a firm here having dealings with a banker of Bruges, who holds

it at my disposal. The gems I have hitherto kept; but as it is possible

that we may, when we leave Paris, have to travel in disguise, I would fain

that they were safely bestowed. I pray you, therefore, to take them with

you to your castle in England, and to hold them for us until we come."

Dame Margaret willingly took charge of the casket, which was of steel,

strongly bound, and some nine inches square.

"Its weight is not so great as you would think by its appearance," the

Italian said, "for it is of the finest steel, and the gems have been taken

from their settings. It will, therefore, I hope, be no great inconvenience

to you."

At parting, Katarina, who was greatly affected, had given Guy a small box.

"Do not open it until you reach Villeroy," she said; "it is a little

remembrance of the girl you saved from deadly peril, and who will never

forget what she owes to you."

On reaching the count's lodgings they found the other two knights in

readiness. Dame Margaret's four men-at-arms were holding the horses.

"I am glad to see you all again," she said as she came up. "This is a far

better ending than our fortunes seemed likely to have at one time, and I

thank you all for your faithful service."

"I am only sorry, my lady, that we have had no opportunity of doing aught

since we were cooped up," Tom replied; "nothing would have pleased us

better than to have had the chance again of striking a stout blow in your

defence."

"We may as well mount at once, if it is your pleasure, Dame Margaret,"

Count d'Estournel said, "for the other men-at-arms are waiting for us

outside the gates."

The packages were at once fastened on the two pack-horses that were to

accompany them; all then mounted. The three knights with Dame Margaret

rode first, then Guy rode with Agnes by his side, and the four men-at-arms

came next, Charlie riding before Jules Varoy, who was the lightest of the

men-at-arms, while two of the count's servants brought up the rear,

leading the sumpter horses.

At Agincourt · 第 16 / 20 章