A COMBAT IN THE TOWER
"I see that you are safe against fire, sir," Edgar said, when the stone
slab had descended and they had closed the door behind it; "but were
the walls of the house to fall in you might be buried here, as I hear
many drunken wretches were yesterday in the cellars of the Savoy."
"I have means of escape," the merchant said, going to the other side of
the apartment, where there was a massive iron door, which they had not
before noticed. "Here," he said, "is a passage leading under the
street; at the end it ascends, and is closed at the top by a massive
panel in the hall of the house opposite. When I took this house a
compatriot lived there, and it was with his consent that I made the
passage, which might be useful in case of need, to him as well as to
me. He returned to Flanders three years since, and the house has been
occupied by an English trader, who knows naught of the passage, so
that, at will, I can sally out by that way."
"And how is your dame, sir?" Albert asked. "I trust that she is none
the worse for her transport here."
"I trust not, young sir; she swooned as I brought her down, but I at
once poured some cordial between her lips, and when she opened her
eyes, just before you came down, I assured her that we were all safe,
and that there was no cause for the least fear; thereupon she closed
her eyes again, and is, methinks, asleep. When she wakes I shall give
her the medicine that my daughter brought. I trust that she will
erelong recover. Her attack was doubtless brought on by the news that
we received yesterday of the murder of so many of our countrymen. We
had already talked of taking refuge here, but deemed not that there was
any pressing need of haste, for the front door is a very strong one,
and could have resisted any attacks long enough to give us ample time
to retire here."
"How do you manage to breathe here, sir, now that the stone slab is
down and the door closed? I see not how you obtain air."
"For that I made provision at the time it was built. Here are two
shafts, six inches square; this one runs up into the chimney of the
kitchen and draws up the air from here; the other goes up to a grating
in the outer wall of the house in the yard behind. It looks as if made
for giving ventilation under the floors or to the cellar, and through
this the air comes down to take the place of that drawn upwards by the
heat of the chimney."
"And now, Mynheer Van Voorden," for such they had learned was the
Fleming's name, "as there is a way of escape, we shall be glad to use
it."
"I pray you do not think of doing so at present," the Fleming said. "We
know not yet whether the evil-doers have cleared off, and methinks it
is not likely that they will have gone yet. First they will search high
and low for us, then they will demolish the furniture, and take all
they deem worth carrying; then, doubtless, they will quench their
thirst in the cellar above, and lastly they will fire the house,
thinking that although they cannot find us, they will burn us with it.
They will wait some time outside to see if we appear at one of the
windows, and not until the roof has fallen in will they be sure that we
have perished. Moreover, you cannot well appear in the streets for the
present in that attire, for you might well be recognized and denounced.
First of all, let me persuade you to take such poor refreshments as I
can offer you."
"Thanks, sir; of that we shall be glad, for 'tis now past noon, and we
have had but a loaf we bought at a baker's as we entered the city."
The Fleming gave orders to the servant, and they speedily had a
snow-white cloth of the finest damask on the table, and placed on it a
service of silver dishes.
"'Tis well that I had my plate brought down here yesterday," the
merchant said, smiling, "though it hardly consorts well with the fare
that I have to offer you. To-morrow, should you pay us a visit, you
will find us better prepared, for, as you see, we have a fireplace at
the bottom of the flue opening into the kitchen chimney. This was done,
not only that we might have warmth, and be able, if need be, to cook
here, but to increase the draught upwards, and so bring down more air
from the other flue."
The lads, however, found that there was no need for apology, for there
were upon the dishes two chickens, a raised pasty large enough for a
dozen people, and a variety of sweets and conserves. The wine, too, was
superb. They made a hearty meal. When they had finished, the Fleming
said: "Now we will go upstairs; there is a peephole in the carving of
the panel, and we can see how matters stand."
Opening the door, they pushed up the massive stone. As they ascended
the stairs they smelt smoke, which grew thicker at each step.
"We need go no further, sirs; the house is clearly on fire, and smoke
has made its way through the peephole that I spoke of."
They waited for another half hour, and then they heard a heavy crash on
the other side of the stone barrier.
"The roof has doubtless fallen in or one of the walls," Van Voorden
said. "There is, be sure, a mob gathered to watch the flames, but in
another half hour it will have gone elsewhere; still, I should advise
you to wait until nightfall."
They saw that this would be prudent, for their attire would certainly
render them obnoxious to the rioters. They were, however, impatient to
be off and see what was being done. The Fleming's wife was still
sleeping soundly, and her husband said that he was convinced that the
crisis was passed, and that she would now recover. The Fleming asked
them many questions about themselves, and where they could be found.
They told them where they were at present lodging, but said they
thought that as soon as the present troubles were over they should
return to their home in the country.
"I myself shall be returning to Flanders, sirs. I have talked of it
many times these last five years, and after this outburst it will be
long before any of my people will be able to feel that they are safe in
London. Had it not been that the populace are as much masters in Bruges
as they are here, I should have gone long ago.
"There is, indeed, no change for the better there, but I shall settle
in Brussels or Louvain, where I can live in peace and quiet."
At the end of half an hour Edgar said: "I think that they must have
cleared off by this time. When we sally out, do you, Albert, go one
way, and I will go another. There is naught in our dress to distinguish
us from other citizens, and methinks that most of those who would have
known us again are lying under the ruins above."
They had, on first arriving below, washed the blood from their faces,
and bathed their wounds, which were by no means of a serious character.
The Fleming agreed with them that, if they separated, there would be no
great danger of their being recognized. After taking farewell of the
girl, who had all this time been sitting silently by her mother's
bedside, they passed through the iron door, preceded by the Fleming
carrying a lamp. After passing through the passage they went up a long
flight of narrow steps until their course was arrested by a wooden
panel. The Fleming applied first his eye and then his ear to a tiny
peephole.
"Everything is quiet," he said; then touched a spring, pushed the panel
open a short distance, and looked out.
"All is clear; you have but to open the door and go out."
He pushed the panel farther back, pressed the lads' hands as they went
out, and then closed the entrance behind them. There was but a single
bolt to undraw; then they opened the door and stepped into the street,
Edgar waiting for half a minute to let Albert get well away before he
went out.
The front wall of the opposite house, having fallen inward, quickly
smothered the fire, and although a light smoke, mingled with tongues of
flame, rose from the ruin, the place had ceased to have any attraction
for the mob, who had wandered away to look for more exciting amusement
elsewhere.
Scenes of this kind were being enacted throughout the city. Already the
restriction against plundering was disregarded, and although the men
from the counties still abstained from robbery, the released prisoners
from the jail and the denizens of the slums of the city had no such
scruples, and the houses of the Flemings were everywhere sacked and
plundered. The two friends met again at Aldgate. When they reached
Tower Hill, it was, they found, occupied by a dense throng of people,
who beleaguered the Tower and refused to allow any provisions to be
taken in, or any person to issue out.
"What had best be done, Edgar? So menacing is the appearance of the
rabble that methinks this attire would be as much out of place among
them as would our own."
"I agree with you there, Albert, and yet I know not what we are to do.
What we need is either a craftsman's dress or that of a countryman, but
I see not how the one or the other is to be obtained. Assuredly nothing
is to be bought, save perhaps bread, for the rioters have ordered that
all bakers' shops are to stand open."
He stood for a minute thinking. "I tell you what we might do," he went
on. "Let us go back into Aldgate, and then down on to the wharf. There
are many country boats there, and we might buy what we need from the
sailors."
"That is a good idea indeed, Edgar."
In a quarter of an hour they were on the wharf. Many of the craft there
had no one on board, the men having gone either to join the rioters or
to look on at what had been done. The skipper of a large fishing-boat
was sitting on the wharf looking moodily down into his vessel.
"Are you the captain of that craft?" Edgar asked him.
"I used to think so," he said; "but just at present no one obeys
orders, as every Jack thinks that he is as good as his master. I ought
to have gone out with the morning's tide, but my men would not have it
so, and just at present they are the masters, not I. A murrain on such
doings, say I. I was with them when it was but a talk of rights and
privileges, but when it comes to burning houses and slaying peaceable
men, I, for one, will have naught to do with it."
"Captain," Edgar said, "I see that you are an honest man, and maybe you
will aid us. We find that there is peril in going about attired as we
are, for we aided a short time since in saving a Flemish family from
massacre by these fellows, and we need disguises. We want two
countrymen's suits--it matters not whether they be new or old. We are
ready to pay for them, but every shop is closed, and we have come down
to the wharves to find someone who will sell."
"There is no difficulty about that," the skipper said, rising from his
seat. "My own clothes would scarce fit you, but two of my crew are
somewhat of your size. Step on board, and I will overhaul their
lockers, and doubt not that I shall find something to serve your
purpose. They will not mind if they find that there is money sufficient
to buy them new ones. Indeed, there is no need for that, for if you
leave behind you the clothes you wear they will sell at Colchester for
enough to buy them two or three suits such as those you take."
There was in those days no distinctive dress worn by sailors. The
captain went down into the little cabin forward and opened two lockers.
"There," he said, "suit yourselves out of these. They are their best,
for they thought that aught would do for mixing up with the mob in the
city."
So saying he went on deck again. The citizen's clothes were soon
stripped off, and the lads dressed in those they took from the lockers,
and in a few minutes they rejoined the skipper, looking like two young
countrymen.
"That will do well," he said, with a laugh. "Hob and Bill would scarce
know their clothes again if they saw them on you. No, no," he added, as
Albert put his hand into his pouch, "there is no need for money, lads;
they will be mightily content with the clothes you have left. Well,
yes; I don't care if I do take a stoup of liquor. There is a tavern
over there where they keep as good ale as you can find anywhere about
here."
After drinking a pint of beer with the honest skipper, they again went
off to the Tower, and mingled in the crowd. It was easy to see that it
was composed of two different sections--the one quiet and orderly, the
men looking grave and somewhat anxious, as if feeling that it was a
perilous enterprise upon which they were embarked, although still bent
upon carrying it out; the other noisy and savage--the men from the
jails, the scum of Canterbury and Rochester, and the mob of the city.
Between these classes there was no sympathy, the one was bent only upon
achieving their deliverance from serfdom, the other was solely
influenced by a desire for plunder, and a thirst for the blood of those
obnoxious to them. Presently there was a loud shout from the crowd as
the drawbridge was lowered.
"Perhaps they are going to make a sally, Albert. If so, we had best
make off to our lodgings, throw off these garments, and appear in our
own."
"'Tis the king!" Albert exclaimed; "and see, there is De Vere, the Earl
of Kent, and other nobles riding behind him."
"Yes; and there is your father. The king and those with him are without
armour or arms; if they had seen as much as we have seen the last two
days, they would scarce trust themselves in such a garb."
A great shout arose as the boy king rode across the drawbridge. The
lads noticed that the shout proceeded from the men who had hitherto
been silent, and that the noisy portion of the crowd now held their
peace. The king held up his hand for silence.
"My friends," he said, in a loud, clear voice, "there is no room here
for conference. Follow me to Mile End Fields, and I will then hear what
you wish to say to me, and will do what I can to give you satisfaction."
A great shout arose, and as the king rode off, most of the country
people followed him. A great mob, however, still remained. These
consisted principally of Wat the Tyler's following, who had ever been
in the front in the doings that had taken place, together with the
released malefactors and the town rabble. A few minutes after the king
and his followers had left, there was a movement forward, and a moment
later, with loud shouts, they began to pour across the drawbridge.
"What madness is this?" Edgar exclaimed. "There are twelve hundred men
there, and yet no bow is bent. It must be treachery!"
"It may be that, Edgar; but more like, orders have been issued that
none should shoot at the rioters or do them any harm, for were there
any killed here it might cost the king his life."
"That may be it," Edgar muttered; "but come on, there is no saying what
may happen."
They were now near the drawbridge, for when a part of the gathering had
left to follow the king, they had taken advantage of it to press
forward towards the gates, and in a few minutes were inside the Tower.
All was in confusion. The men-at-arms and archers remained immovable on
the walls, while a crowd of well-nigh twenty thousand men poured into
the Tower with shouts of "Death to the archbishop! Death to the
treasurer!" Knowing their way better than others, Edgar and Albert ran
at full speed towards the royal apartments. Finding themselves in a
deserted passage they threw off their upper garments.
"Throw them in here," Edgar said, opening a door; "they may be useful
to us yet."
Finding the king's chamber empty, they ran into the princess's
apartment. The princess was sitting pale and trembling, surrounded by a
group of ladies, among whom was Dame Agatha. A few gentlemen were
gathered round. Just as the lads entered, Sir Robert Hales, the
treasurer, ran in.
"Madam," he said, "I beseech you order these gentlemen to sheathe their
swords. Resistance is impossible. There are thousands upon thousands of
these knaves, and were a sword drawn it would cost your life and that
of all within the Tower. They have no ill-will against you, as they
showed when you passed through them at Blackheath. I implore you, order
all to remain quiet whatever happens, and it were best that all save
your personal attendants dispersed to their apartments. Even the
semblance of resistance might excite these people to madness, and serve
as an excuse for the most atrocious deeds."
"Disperse, I pray you, knights and ladies," the princess said. "I
order--nay, I implore you, lose not a moment."
"Come," Dame Agatha said, firmly, taking hold of Aline's hand; "and do
you follow, my son, with Edgar."
They hurried along the passages, one of which was that by which the
lads had entered.
"Go on with them," Edgar said to his friend; "I will follow in a
moment. This is the room where we left our disguises."
Running in he gathered the clothes, made them into a rough bundle, and
then followed. He overtook his friends as they were mounting a
staircase which led to a room in one of the turrets. As they reached
the chamber, and the door closed behind them, Dame Agatha burst into
tears.
"I have been in such anxiety about you both!" she exclaimed.
"We have fared well, mother," Albert said; "but do you lose no moment
of time. We have disguises here. I pray you put on the commonest
garment that you have, you and Aline. If you can pass as servants of
the palace, we can conduct you safely out of the crowd."
Edgar ran up a narrow flight of stone stairs, at the top of which was a
trap-door. He forced back the bolts and lifted it.
"Bring up the clothes, Albert," he called down. "We will put them on
while the ladies are changing, and we can watch from this platform what
is doing without."
They soon slipped on the countrymen's clothes over their own, and then
looked out at the scene below. Every space between the buildings was
crowded by the mob shouting and yelling. The garrison still stood
immovable on the outer walls.
"You must be right, Albert. Even if there be some traitors among them
there must also be some true men, and never would they stand thus
impassive had not the strictest orders been laid upon them before the
king's departure."
In a minute or two they saw a number of men pour out, hauling along the
Archbishop of Canterbury, Sir Robert Hales, the king's confessor, and
four other gentlemen. Then with exulting shouts they dragged their
prisoners to Tower Hill, and then forced them to kneel.
"They cannot be going to murder them!" Albert exclaimed with horror.
"That is surely their intent," Edgar said, sternly. "Would that we were
there with but a hundred men-at-arms. Assuredly there would be a stout
fight before they had their way."
"I cannot look on!" Albert exclaimed, hurrying to the other side of the
platform as a man armed with a heavy sword faced the prisoners.
Edgar did not move, but stood gazing with scowling brow and clenched
hand. Presently he turned.
"There is naught more to see, Albert. All are murdered! God assoil
their souls."
At this moment Dame Agatha called out from below that they were ready,
and they ran down at once into the chamber. Dame Agatha and her
daughter were both dressed in rough garments with hoods pulled over
their faces, and might well have passed unnoticed as being the wife and
daughter of some small trader, or superior domestics of the palace.
Just as they were about to start they heard an uproar on the stairs
below. The door had been already fastened.
"Best to open it," Edgar said; "they would but break it in."
Seven rough fellows, whose flushed faces showed that they had already
been drinking, rushed into the room.
"Who have we here?" one shouted roughly. "Two wenches and two country
lads. But what are all these fine clothes lying about; they must be
nobles in disguise. We must take them down to Tyler and hear what he
has to say to them. But, first of all, let us have a kiss or two. I
will begin with this young woman," and he rudely caught hold of Aline.
Edgar's sword flashed out, and with the hilt he struck the ruffian so
terrible a blow on the top of his head that he fell dead. An instant
later he ran another through the body, shouting to the ladies: "Quick!
to the platform above! Albert, guard the stairs after they pass. I will
hold this door. None of these fellows must go out alive."
Taken by surprise for a moment, the men made a rush at him. The nearest
was cut down with a sweeping blow that caught him on the neck, and
almost severed the head from his body. Albert had drawn his sword as
soon as he saw Edgar strike the first blow, and ran one of the men
through the body, then engaged another, who made at him fiercely, while
Dame Agatha and Aline sped up the steps. There were now but three foes
left. While one engaged with Albert and pressed him hotly, the other
two attacked Edgar, who was standing with his back to the door; but
they were no match for the young swordsman, who parried their blows
without difficulty, and brought them one after the other to the ground
just as Albert rid himself of his opponent.
"Bring the ladies down, Albert, quickly. We must be out of this before
anyone else comes."
Albert ran up. The two ladies were on their knees. "Quick, mother!
There is not a moment to be lost. It is all over, and you have to go
down as speedily as possible."
Dame Agatha passed through the scene of carnage without a shudder, for
she had more than once accompanied Sir Ralph abroad, and had witnessed
several battles and sieges, but Aline clung to Albert's arm, shuddering
and sobbing. Edgar stood at the door until they had passed out. He
closed it behind him, locked it on the outside, and threw the key
through a loophole on the stair. They met with no one until they
reached the lower part of the Tower, which the rioters were now
leaving, satisfied with the vengeance that they had taken upon the
archbishop and treasurer, whom they regarded as the authors of the
obnoxious poll-tax. The party were unquestioned as they issued out into
the yard and mingled with the mob. Here they gathered that the
princess, having been roughly kissed by some of those who first entered
her apartment, had swooned with terror, and that her attendants had
been permitted to carry her down and place her in a boat, and that she
had been taken across the river.
The rioters poured out across the drawbridge with almost as much haste
as they had pressed over to enter the Tower, anxious to be away before
the king's return, when he might turn against them the whole of the
garrison. Many had intoxicated themselves by the wine in the royal
cellars, and beyond a few rough jests nothing was said to the ladies,
who were supposed to be some of the royal servants now being escorted
to their country homes by their friends. As soon as possible Edgar and
Albert edged their way out of the crowd and soon reached the door of
their lodging. As soon as the garden gate closed behind them Aline
fainted. Edgar, who was walking beside her, caught her as she fell, and
carried her into the house, where he left her for a while in the care
of her mother.
The latter said before she closed the door: "Edgar, I charge you to go
back to the Tower and speak to my lord as he enters with the king. He
will be well-nigh distraught should he find that we are missing, and go
up to our chamber to look for us. Albert, do you remain here with us."
A quarter of an hour later she came down to her son.
"Aline has recovered her senses," she said, "but will have to lie quiet
for a time. Now tell me what has happened. Have any of the Court been
killed?"
Albert told her of the murder of the archbishop, the treasurer, and
their five companions.
"'Tis terrible!" she said, "and I can well understand that Edgar was so
maddened at the sight that when one of those half-drunken wretches
insulted Aline he could contain himself no longer. But it was a rash
act thus to engage seven men."
"Well, mother, if he had not smitten that man down I should have run
him through. My sword was half out when he did so. You would not have
had me stand by quietly and see you and Aline insulted by those
wretches. But, indeed, the odds were not so great, seeing that they
were but rabble of the town, and already half-drunk. Besides the man
that he smote down, Edgar killed four of them, while I had but two to
encounter, which was a fair division considering his strength and skill
compared with mine. No half measures would have been of any use after
that first blow was struck. It is certain that we should all have been
killed had one of them escaped to give the alarm."
"I am far from blaming you, Albert. My own blood boiled at the
indignity, and had I carried a dagger I believe that I should have
stabbed that fellow myself, though I had been slain a moment
afterwards."
Looking out from the gate Edgar saw that the mob had now melted away.
Throwing off his disguise, he proceeded to the Tower. Half an hour
later the king rode up at a furious pace, followed by all who had
ridden out with him save the king's half-brothers, the Earl of Kent and
Sir John Holland, who, knowing their own unpopularity, and alarmed for
their safety, put spurs to their horses and rode away. The king threw
himself from his horse at the entrance, at which Edgar was standing.
"Is the news that has reached me true," he asked him, "that the
princess, my mother, has been grossly insulted by this foul rabble, and
that the archbishop, treasurer, and others have been murdered?"
"It is quite true, your Majesty; the princess has been carried across
the river in a swoon; the bodies of the gentlemen murdered still lie on
the hill."
With an exclamation of grief and indignation the king ascended the
steps.
"What of my dame and daughter, Edgar?" the knight asked, as the king
turned away.
"They are both safe, and at their former lodging, Sir Ralph. Dame
Agatha sent me here to acquaint you where they were to be found; she
knew that you would be very anxious as to their safety."
"I thank her for the thought," the knight said, turning his horse's
head to go there. "Where have you and Albert been for the last two
days?"
"We have slept at the lodgings, Sir Ralph, and during the day have
traversed the city in sober clothes watching what has been done."
"Then you have seen scenes which must have made you almost ashamed of
being an Englishman," Sir Ralph said, angrily. "This has been a
disgraceful business. It was bad enough to destroy John of Gaunt's
palace; for, although I love not Lancaster greatly, it was an ornament
to London and full of costly treasures. For this, however, there was
some sort of excuse, but not so for the burning of the Temple, still
less for the destruction of the great house of the Knights of St. John,
and also the manor-house of the prior of the order. I hear to-day that
great numbers of Flemings have been slain, their houses pillaged, and
in some cases burnt. Now comes the crowning disgrace. That the Tower of
London, garrisoned by 1,200 men, and which ought to have defied for
weeks the whole rabbledom of England, should have opened its gates
without a blow being struck, and the garrison remained inert on the
walls while the king's mother was being grossly insulted, and the two
highest dignitaries of the state with others massacred is enough, by my
faith, to make one forswear arms, put on a hermit's dress and take to
the woods. Here we are!"
The knight's two retainers ran up to take his horse as he entered the
gateway; and, vaulting off, he hurried into the house.
"Why, Agatha, you are strangely pale! What has happened? I have not had
time yet to question Edgar, and, indeed, have been talking so fast
myself that he has had no chance of explaining how you and Aline
managed to get here. You came by water, I suppose, and so escaped that
crowd of knaves round the Tower?"
"No, Sir Ralph, we escaped under the protection of your son and this
brave youth. Had it not been for them we should surely have suffered
indignity and perhaps death."
"What! were they in the Tower? How got they there, wife?"
"I have had no time to ask questions yet, husband, having been
attending Aline, who fainted after bearing up bravely until we got
here. She has but a few minutes since come out of her swoon, and I have
stayed with her."
"Tell me what has happened, Albert," the knight said.
"We slept here last night, sir; and upon sallying out found the rioters
assembled round the Tower. We were clad in traders' dresses Master
Gaiton had given us; and seeing that there was no chance of entering
the Tower, while it would not have been safe to have mingled with the
mob in such an attire, we knew not what to do until Edgar suggested
that we might, if we went down to the wharf, obtain disguises from one
of the vessels lying there. We were fortunate, and exchanged our
citizen clothes for those of two sailor-men. Then we came back and
mingled in the crowd. We saw the drawbridge lowered, and the king ride
off with his company, followed by the more orderly portion of the
rioters. In a few minutes, headed by Wat the Tyler, those who remained
poured across the drawbridge and were masters of the place, not a blow
being struck in its defence.
"We made our way, by back passages known to us, to the princess's
apartments, where she, with several knights and ladies, among them my
mother and sister, were waiting to see what might come. Sir Robert
Hales rushed in and prayed that no resistance be offered, as this would
inflame the passions of the mob, and cost the lives of all within the
Tower. So the princess gave orders for all to leave her save her maids,
and to scatter to their own apartments, and remain quiet there. As soon
as we reached my mother's room we besought her to put on that sombre
dress, and prayed her similarly to attire Aline, so that they might
pass with us unnoticed through the crowd. While they were doing this we
went up to the platform above, and there witnessed the murder of the
archbishop, treasurer, and priest--at least, Edgar did so, for I could
not bring myself to witness so horrible a sight.
"In a short time my mother called that she and Aline were ready. We
were about to leave the room and hurry away, when suddenly seven rough
knaves, inflamed by wine, rushed in. The leader of them said that they
saw we were people of quality, and that he would take us down before
Wat the Tyler, who would know how to deal with us; but before doing so
he and his crew would give the ladies some kisses, and thereupon he
seized Aline roughly. I was in the act of drawing my sword, when Edgar
dealt him so terrible a blow with the hilt of his that the man fell
dead. Then there was a general fight. Edgar shouted to my mother and
Aline to run up the steps to the platform above, and to me to hold the
stairs, while he placed his back to the door.
"The combat lasted but a short time, for the fellows possessed no kind
of skill. In addition to the man that Edgar had first killed he slew
four others, while I killed the other two. Then mother and Aline came
down from the platform, descended the stairs, and mingled with the mob;
they were pouring out exulting in the mischief they had done, but
plainly anxious as to the consequences to themselves. We had no
difficulty in coming hither. By the remarks we heard, it is clear that
they took the ladies for two of the princess's tirewomen, and we their
friends who were going to escort them to their homes."
"Of a truth 'tis a brave tale, Albert!" the knight exclaimed, bringing
his hand down on the lad's shoulder with hearty approbation. "By my
faith, no knights in the realm could have managed the matter more
shrewdly and bravely. Well done, Albert; I am indeed proud of my son.
As for you, Edgar, you have added a fresh obligation to those I already
owe you. 'Tis a feat, indeed, for one of your age to slay five men
single-handed, even though they were inflamed by liquor. Now, wife,
what about Aline?"
"She is here to answer for herself," the girl said, as she entered the
room. "I am better, but still feel strangely weak. I could not lie
still when I knew that you were in the house. I take great shame to
myself, father. I thought I could be brave, in case of peril, as your
daughter should be, but instead of that I swooned like a village
maiden."
"You are not to be blamed. So long as there was danger you kept up,
and, in truth, it was danger that might well drive the blood from the
face of the bravest woman; for the sight of that chamber, after the
fight was over, must, in itself, have filled a maid of your age with
horror. Why, the princess herself swooned on vastly less occasion. No,
no, girl, I am well pleased with you; as for your mother, she had seen
such sights before, but it was a rough beginning for you, and I think
that you acted bravely and well."