The Isle of Axholme, to which Humphrey was determined to go, was a
marshy tract of ground in the northwest part of what is now
Lincolnshire, and its eastern boundary was the Trent River. It was some
eighteen miles long from north to south, and some five miles wide from
east to west. On its north side was the wide mouth of the Ouse; the
river Idle was south of it, and west of it was the Don. In the time of
the Romans there had been a forest here which they had cut down, and
the low, level land afterward became a marsh. At this time few trees
were to be found there. But there were thickets of underbrush and
patches of rank grass, as well as pools and boggy places; and Humphrey
was right in thinking the place comparatively safe from pursuit.
Especially so as the pursuers would naturally think that the young lord
Josceline would push on as rapidly as possible, that he might get
across to France to join his father.
"I go no more where the crowd goeth," declared Humphrey, when they were
on their way. "How many, thinkest thou, of all that be abroad in these
parts pass through Doncaster? Why, near all. We need not to show
ourselves further to draw pursuit. This is now the fourth day since we
set out, and my lady and Josceline must be well along in their journey.
I would I knew the doings of William Lorimer at the castle. He is a
brave man and a true, though he would never tell me his plans that he
might take my counsel. He ever made naught of dreams and spake lightly
of omens. I hope he may not fare the worse for it."
Hugo made no reply. He, too, was wondering about how things were going
at the castle, but he kept his thoughts to himself.
"Now I will tell thee," said Humphrey, pausing and turning in his
saddle, "when thou seest me draw rein and hold up my hand, do thou stop
instantly. There be many robbers in this wood, and we have them to fear
as well as king's men. And hold Fleetfoot fast. Let him not escape
thee."
Hugo promised to obey in these particulars, and Humphrey, for a short
distance, put his horse to the trot with Hugo following close behind
him. All that day they turned and wound through the forest, going fast
where they dared, and at other times creeping silently along. To Hugo
it seemed they must be lost; but, when darkness fell, they had reached
the edge of the Isle of Axholme, and, putting the horses through the
Don, were safe in its marshy wastes.
"Here be no keepers and rangers," said Humphrey, exultingly. "And here
may we kill and eat what we choose, while Fleetfoot may hunt for
himself. We stir not till the moon rise, and then we seek a place to
sleep," he concluded, patting the wet coat of the horse he rode.
Hugo said nothing. He did not know it, but he was nervous. All day he
had been on the alert, and now to stay perfectly still in this strange,
silent place, not daring to stir in the darkness lest he splash into
some pool, or mire in a bog; with his eyes attempting to see, when it
was too dark to see anything but the glow-worms in the grass and the
will-o'-the-wisp, was an added strain.
Two hours went by, and the curtain of darkness began to lift. The
moonlight made visible a fringe of small trees and the shine of the
water on whose bank they grew. The breeze rose and sighed and whistled
through rush and reed. An owl hooted, and then Humphrey, who had been
nodding on his horse's back, suddenly became very wide awake.
"Hast been here before, Hugo?" he cried cheerily.
"Nay," answered the boy, listlessly.
"No more have I," returned Humphrey. "But what of that? A man who hath
proper dreams may be at home in all places. I will now seek out our
resting-place, and do thou and Fleetfoot follow me." So saying, he
chirruped to his patient horse and led the way carefully; for, however
much Humphrey imagined he depended on dreams, he generally exercised as
good judgment and care as he was able. To-night weary Hugo had
forgotten that Humphrey was his servant, and, as such, bound to obey
him. He felt himself nothing but a tired and homesick boy, and was glad
himself to obey the faithful Saxon, while he thought regretfully of his
uncle the prior, Lady De Aldithely, Josceline, and the valiant William
Lorimer.
It was not Humphrey's intention to go farther that night than
absolutely necessary; and a little later he dismounted and stamped his
feet with satisfaction. "Here be solid ground enough and to spare for
us and the horses and hound," he said, "and here will we rest."
A lone, scrubby tree was at hand, and to that Humphrey made fast the
horses and dog. "No fire to-night. Thy cloak must be thy protection
from the damp," he said. "But the swamp is not so damp as the king's
dungeon, nor so dismal. So let us eat and sleep."
Hugo said nothing. He ate a morsel with a swelling heart, and then, in
silence, lay down. He was beginning to find leading evil men a merry
chase a rather unpleasant business.
In the moonlight Humphrey looked at him. "He is a good lad," he
thought, "and seemeth no more to me like a stranger. I begin to see
that he seemed no stranger to my lady neither. My lord will make him
his page, no doubt, if he getteth safely over to France. France is a
good country when a bad king ruleth at home." Then faithful Humphrey,
the animals fed, himself lay down to sleep.
It was late the next morning when Hugo awoke. Humphrey had been
stirring two hours; and the first thing the boy's eyes rested upon was
a little fire made of bits of punky wood collected by Humphrey; and
spitted above the coals were two small birds roasting.
"Ay, lad!" cried Humphrey. "Open thine eyes now, and we will to
breakfast presently. What sayest thou to a peewit each? Is that not
better than brawn?"
Hugo smiled and arose at once. His despondency of the night before was
gone, together with his fatigue, and he looked about him with interest.
To the left were reeds some twelve feet tall which fringed a pool; to
the right, thick sedge that fringed another; and they seemed to be on a
sort of tiny, grassy isle, though the water which divided them from the
next bit of solid earth could, in some places, be stepped across. The
sun shone with agreeable warmth. There were frequent whirrs of wings in
the air as small flocks of game birds rose from the water and sedge
near by.
[Illustration: Hugo looked about him with interest]
"This is not the wood nor is it Brockadale; but here one may breathe a
little without having his eyes looking on all sides for an enemy," said
Humphrey, with satisfaction. "It is the turn of the peewits to look
out. Knowest thou the peewit?"
"On the table only," answered Hugo, pleasantly.
"Ay," observed Humphrey. "Thine uncle, the prior, hath many a fat feast
in the priory, I warrant thee. But here thou shalt see the peewit at
home. Had we but come in April, we had had some eggs as well as birds
to eat."
Humphrey had made a fresh meal cake in the embers, and the two--boy and
serving-man--now sat devouring birds and cake with great appetites.
"Thou knowest the pigeon?" asked Humphrey.
"Yea," replied Hugo.
"The peewit is the size of a pigeon."
"So I should guess," remarked Hugo.
"There be those that call it the lapwing," pursued Humphrey.
"My uncle, the prior, is of the number," smiled Hugo.
"Ay, priests ever have abundance of names for everything. It cometh, no
doubt, from knowing Latin and other outlandish gibberish."
Hugo smiled indulgently. His feeling toward Humphrey had, during the
last day, undergone a complete change. And, though he was but a Saxon
serving-man, the heart of the boy had now an affection for him.
Humphrey was quick to detect it, and he too smiled.
"Had the peewit short legs like the pigeon," he continued, "and did he
but want what they call the crest on the back of his head, and could
you see only the back of the bird, he might be thought a pigeon, since
he shineth on the back like a peacock in all colors blue and green can
make when mixed together. But when he standeth on his somewhat long
legs, and thou seest that his under parts be white, why, even a
Frenchman would know he was no pigeon, but must be the peewit or
lapwing. And I warrant thee we shall eat our fill of peewits if we
remain here long."
"When thinkest thou of going?" asked Hugo, interestedly.
"Why, that I know not. I would fain have another dream. I know not how
it may be with other men, but when I am right weary I dream not. Which
I take as an omen not to stir till I be rested and ready to use my
wits. Thou hast noticed that weariness dulleth the wits?"
"Yea," replied Hugo.
"Why, I have seen in my time many fall into grievous snares from
nothing more than being weary, and so, dull of sight and hearing. But
here cometh Fleetfoot sleek and satisfied. I did but turn him loose two
hours ago, and I warrant thee he hath had a fine meal. I will make him
fast once more, and then we go farther into the island to seek another
resting-place for the night. This is too near the edge of the marsh,
and too near the Don."
Mounting the horses, and with Fleetfoot once more in leash, they set
out, Humphrey picking his way and Hugo following. And by mid-day they
had come to what Humphrey decided was probably the best location for
them on the island. It was another solid, grassy place, and was graced
with three little scrub trees which gave them a leafy roof under which
to lie. From the fringe of neighboring rushes the two cut enough to
strew their resting-place thickly, and so protect their bodies from the
damp ground. Then Humphrey dug a shallow fire-pit at the north, and,
after their mid-day meal, set diligently about collecting a store of
fuel. Little was to be found solid enough to cook with, and that little
he stored carefully apart, reserving a great heap of dead rushes and
reeds for the blaze which was to ward off the night dampness and make
them comfortable. In all these labors Hugo bore his share, for the two,
by tacit consent, were no longer master and man but comrades in need
and danger.
In collecting the reeds they took few from their immediate
neighborhood, wishing to be as protected from chance observation as
possible. And they found their wanderings in search of fuel full of
interest. At some distance from their camping-place they came upon a
muddy shallow. And there on the bank Hugo saw his first avoset or
"scooper," as Humphrey called him. The bird was resting from his labors
when the two first observed him. Though the ooze was soft the bird did
not sink into it. There he stood, his wide-webbed toes supporting him
on the surface of the ooze, and it seemed a long way from his feet up
his blue legs to his black-and-white body. But the oddest thing about
him was his long, curved, and elastic bill turning up at the end. The
bird had not observed them, and presently set to work scooping through
the mud after worms. Then he waded out a little way into the shallow,
where he did not stay long, for, catching sight of Hugo and Humphrey,
he rose a little in the air and flew swiftly away. Farther on they came
upon a wading crane with an unlucky snake in his mouth. And still
farther away they caught sight of a mother duck swimming with her young
brood upon a pool. And every now and then a frog plumped into the
water. But nowhere did they discover, by sight or sound, another human
being beside themselves.
When darkness fell the glow-worms shone once more, the will-o'-the-wisp
danced, and the owls hooted. The fire of dead rushes and reeds, fed by
the patient Humphrey, blazed brightly and shed a grateful warmth upon
their sheltered resting-place under the three scrub trees. And, lying
at ease upon the rushes, the hours of darkness went by till, when the
moon arose, the fire had died down, Hugo slept, and Humphrey had gone
in search of a favoring dream.
Near Doncaster that night camped Richard Wood with his three newly
hired men-at-arms; while within the town at an inn called the Green
Dragon lay Walter Skinner. He was newly equipped with a horse. "I need
no men-at-arms," he said to himself, "nor will I hire them. I will
catch the young lord and his serving-man with arrow and bow if I but
come up with them again."
And that night, safe out of the forest of Galtus, Lady De Aldithely and
her party encamped on the border of Scotland.
That night also Robert Sadler, pausing to rest on his return journey to
the castle, looked often at the package he carried, and wondered what
it contained.
That night also the valiant William Lorimer and his men-at-arms rested
from their labors well satisfied. For, while the moat at the great gate
held only its usual allowance of water, by means of the new dam they
had constructed, that part of the moat near the postern was level full.
The next morning marked the beginning of the sixth day of their
journey, and Humphrey rose with unimpaired cheerfulness. Once more
Hugo's waking eyes beheld two peewits spitted over the coals and a meal
cake baking in the embers. "I did dream of gold last night," said
Humphrey, by way of a morning greeting. "Knowest thou what that
betokeneth?"
"Nay," responded Hugo, pleasantly.
"It betokeneth success in thy present undertaking after first meeting
with difficulties. We have met with difficulties, and what were they
but the king's men? They be now behind us, and success is to be ours.
But come thou to breakfast now. To-morrow morn we set forth again."