A year had passed since our ill-fated venture beneath the walls of
Kimberley, and 'twas such an autumn morning as makes one forget his
cares and sorrows and those of a strife-torn world, and believe in the
coming of a better day.
Cedric and I had promised ourselves rare sport in the woods of Grimsby.
The sky overhead was of brightest blue, and the sunlight filtered
sweetly through the boughs of oak and beech that now had dropped the
half of their leaves to make a rustling carpet underfoot. In the
treetops the birds sang lustily, making the best of the smiling time
that comes before the winter's winds and snows. Now and again a
woodmouse scampered on fallen log, a hare sprang away from her form, or
a moorfowl scuttled to cover in the bracken. To me there were never
sweeter sights and sounds and fragrances than those of autumn woodlands;
and to Cedric, the son of a Pelham forester, they were as native and
joyous as the brown brook waters to the speckled trout or the green hill
pastures to the Mountjoy kine.
Since my comrade and former squire had been knighted at Wenderley, after
the victory over the Welsh at the Pass of the Eagles, we at Mountjoy had
grown well used to think of him as Sir Cedric De La Roche, the name
conferred by the Lord High Constable when he made him knight and
chevalier. But a newer honor had come to him but four months past; and
though 'twas well deserved and a most gracious act of our liege lord,
the Lion Hearted Richard, we yet could scarce conceive of its reality.
De Lacey, the High Constable, who with the backing of all the Mountjoys
and Carletons, had well served the King in the Western counties in the
struggle against his usurping brother, John, after the King's return
from the German captivity, had told to him the tale of the Welsh battle
and something of Cedric's more recent services. Then he had hinted that
the fee of Grimsby had been vacant, save for the royal stewards, ever
since Sir James Dunwoodie and his brother had perished in the Battle at
the Pass. Forthwith the King summoned secretaries to write at his
bidding; and shortly a herald arrived at Castle Mountjoy with letters
patent, making our Cedric the Knight of Grimsby and conferring on him in
fee the lands and manor house and all the rights Dunwoodie had before.
At the royal assembly at Shrewsbury, Cedric had appeared with his due
quota of six mounted men-at-arms and fifty archers; and no knight or
baron in the whole array looked a better captain of his forces or held
himself in more manly fashion as the King rode down the line to view us.
Truly my heart swelled that day with gladness at the recognition that
had come to so brave and true a man without awaiting the silvering of
his hair and the bowing of his shoulders with years.
Lord Mountjoy was mightily proud of Cedric, as I well knew, and had
stinted not to boast of him on occasion as a Mountjoy lad with a head as
well as hands. And, however he might wish to check o'er-weening youth
and confidence, my father might not gainsay that he, that had long been
famous for his swordplay through all our countryside, had much ado to
hold his own with foil or quarter-staff against me, now that my strength
and reach did equal his, or that Cedric of the broad back and oaken
thighs could lift breast-high a weight that neither of us could stir.
Now Sir Cedric De La Roche and I adventured through the Grimsby woods,
afoot, clad as huntsmen and carrying only our cross-bows and poniards.
For the most part, those that hunt in greenwood choose the long-bow with
its cloth-yard shafts; but from a child Cedric had displayed a wondrous
skill with the other weapon; it was ever his favorite; and I followed
his humor. Already he had struck a fine moorfowl that ran amongst the
gorse and I a hare that sat upright beneath a leafy beech, thinking
himself well hidden. We talked full loud and gayly as we made our way
through bush and brake or along the woodland paths, for truly it was the
sunlight and the comradeship and the smell of the fallen leaves that had
brought us to the forest rather than any wish for heavy game sacks.
Already we had meat enough for the roasting at our noon-tide campfire;
and we little cared for more.
To fare abroad on such a morn, among the gray tree trunks and by the
brown woodland streams, was enough for our content. As we walked on,
Cedric told tale after tale that he had from old books of ballads and
chronicles wherein brave knights rode gayly through just such a land as
this and had full many gallant adventures and sweet passages at arms.
Almost could I see the fays and elves that he declared were dancing on
the forest floor and the old, black-robed magician that held them at his
thralls.
Suddenly we heard sound of hoofs, and saw approaching us along a bridle
path two armed and mounted horsemen. 'Twas Lord Gilroy, who held the
great domain of that name two leagues and more away, and his nephew, a
hulking youth of two and twenty or thereabouts, by name Sir Philip
Carrington. Both were red of face with hurry, and their horses were well
lathered and breathing hard. At first sight of us Lord Gilroy called out
loudly:
"Ah, good morrow, gentlemen! Well met, Mountjoy and Grimsby both.
Grimsby, we have to crave thy leave to ride through thy lands in search
of a murdering villain that hath escaped us at Gilroy."
"A murderer, sayst thou?" answered Cedric, "whom hath he slain?"
[Illustration: _BOTH WERE RED OF FACE WITH HURRY, AND THEIR HORSES WERE
WELL LATHERED AND BREATHING HARD_]
"'Tis Simon, my dogmaster. He lies at the point of death, or is dead for
aught I know by this time, his skull near crushed with a cudgel. 'Twas
my thrall, Egbert, a surly fellow well deserving of the hangman's noose,
that thus assaulted him. It seems the dogmaster had found him sore
abusing one o' the best of our hounds, and had rated him soundly,
threatening a report to me of his actions. I saw but the end of the
matter and that from a distance, and with Philip here have ridden hard
after him. The varlet made at once for the woods and has thus far
escaped us; but we will run him to earth, if it take the whole of
Gilroy.
"A surly fellow indeed!" exclaimed Sir Cedric. "'Tis well that he be
apprehended quickly, else he'll join some outlaw band, and bid us all
defiance. Thou may'st ride through my lands at will for his capture--or
we may chance upon him in the wood. How may we know him?"
Lord Gilroy smiled, but in a hard, grim way he hath that is more
menacing than any frown.
"'Tis easy knowing him. He wears an iron collar, like all my thralls,
bearing his own name and mine in graven letters. It makes the hunting of
them far easier when they have done some violence, or if they attempt to
fly from my lands. But give you good day, messieurs! We must fare on. If
so be you get sight of him, a cross-bow quarrel would not be amiss if he
stop not on order. And if you take and send him to me, I will be much
beholden. Our thralls must be kept well in leash, e'en if that leash be
on occasion a hangman's knot. Come Philip, ride to the left, I pray
thee, while I follow this path through yonder thicket."
Cedric and I walked on, talking of this bloody mischief, and of the
chances of the thrall's recapture. Somehow the brightness had gone from
the sun glints, and the woodland seemed no longer a forest enchanted
where nymphs and elves might dance away from hollowed tree or the
gray-haired wizard, Merwin, be seen upon a mossy rock, summoning by
magic spells a troop of Arthur's chivalry.
"'Tis true this fellow must be taken," said Cedric, sadly, "for such as
he make up the outlaw bands that now and again give trouble sore to
honest men. But I know not for the life of me why men that are born and
die upon this green earth like any others, and that have as good a wish
to live unhampered as you and I, should wear upon their necks collars of
iron that mark them forever as slaves and bondmen. I have little wonder
that such at times break forth with violence. Nay! I have the more that
ever they remain quiet like oxen in a paddock awaiting the plowman's
yoke."
Cedric had stopped short in the path and was facing me. Upon his broad
and comely face was the same stern look he had worn that day he
withstood my father in the matter of the churls at De Lancey Manor.
"Why, God ha' mercy, Cedric!" I protested, "I see no need for all this
heat. These thralls have never known other condition; and 'tis like they
live the more in comfort for a master's guidance."
Cedric's eyes blazed at this, and he spoke full loudly:
"Look thee now, Sir Richard! Hast ever asked of thrall whether or not he
would have his freedom if he might? If ever thou dost, thou'lt find that
there's never a villein or thrall in England but would prefer himself as
master to the kindest and best of lords that ever lived."
"How know'st thou that?" I questioned, sharply, being myself somewhat
kindled by the heat with which he spoke.
"Hark thee, Sir Richard! Thou hast on Mountjoy lands no thralls, for
that thy grandfather made freemen of them all. But when I came to
Grimsby there were here a dozen or more that wore the iron collar and
might not leave the land. I had not been here a fortnight ere I loosed
the collars from their necks, and bade them go or stay as pleased them
for that now they were free men. Some were youths like ourselves; some
strong men of middle life and others old and white-haired; but every one
of them fell down before me and wept for very joy that they and their
children after them should be free. Forsooth, I liked it not that men
with sons older than me should pay me homage as I were a heathen Caliph
on his throne. 'Tis nearly four months since; and not one of them has
left the lands of Grimsby and every one would fight for me 'gainst any
man on earth. Had'st thou seen their faces on that day I threw their
collars to the smith to beat into bush-cutting hooks, thou'd never
question more whether men would choose to _be_ men rather than cattle."
"Ah well!" I answered, "mayhap it is as thou sayest. Some of the best
men under the Mountjoy banner are sons of those my grandfather loosed
from bondage. But this is a question too great for our settlement, and
this too fair a day for argument. What if we make our fire and dress
this meat for dinner? Verily, I am already sharp set with this autumn
air."
Just then we spied before us, on a little rise in the woodland, a
hunting lodge that had been built by the Dunwoodies for their pleasuring
when they and their friends hunted in the forest. Cedric remembered that
he had the key to the great lock on the door among those that hung at
his girdle; and we advanced to enter and examine the place, I, for one,
being glad enough of any happening that should cause us to forget the
matters of which we had been talking. Soon we were inside the lodge, and
found it clean and comfortable enough, it being furnished forth with a
table and benches of logs, split and hewn, and a good broad fireplace
with spits whereon to hang the roasting.
"Ah!" cried Cedric in a voice far other than his last speaking, "what
say'st thou? Shall we not roast our meat here rather than among the
leaves in the wood, where a fire in this dry time may go beyond our
holding?"
"Surely," I answered, "'twill be better far to-day. Come, I'll flay and
dress the hare while thou makest ready the fire. Thou'rt ever skillful
at the kindling."
So we set gayly to work; and in half an hour had our meat before us on
the table. Some bread and cheese from our pouches that we toasted o'er
the embers made with it a feast fit for any king on a woodland holiday.
Our content with the world returned, and we sang a lusty ballad over the
well-picked bones. Then, being something thirsty, Cedric started up to
see if the lodge contained a pitcher with which he might fetch clear
water from the stream near by. Meanwhile my eye had been caught by an
old and somewhat rusted broadsword that hung on pegs over the fireplace.
I reached it down at once, and, testing it with a few passes and upward
strokes, found it a good blade and true; and wondered much that it
should have been left in this place as something without worth. Then I
saw on a bench in a darkened corner a small anvil and some armorer's
tools, and bethought me that the lodge might have been used at need for
repairing arms when the Grimsby men were called to war.
For a moment I had not noted Cedric's movements; but now at a sudden
word from him I wheeled about and saw him crouching at the door of an
inner room of the lodge and gazing into the darkness beyond as a hound
that hath run the fox to earth: I crouched beside him and looked also.
The room beyond, it seems, had been used in the Dunwoodies' time for the
receiving and dressing of meat and drink and such like offices. There
was a small square window, now nearly closed by its plank shutter, but
admitting at the side a narrow beam of light. For a time my eyes could
make out naught; but after a little I saw, beneath a bench or table in
the farthest corner, first two glistening eyes, then, dimly, the form of
a man.
Cedric took down his cross-bow and laid a bolt in groove.
"Come forth from there, my man," he shouted, "we have thee fairly
caught."
No answer came, and for a moment I doubted if we had seen aright. Then
Cedric called out again:
"Come forth, I tell thee. Else I'll fairly send a quarrel through thee."
There came a low groan from the darkness, and words that seemed made
with labor:
"Strike then. I care not."
"What say'st thou?" called Cedric, "seest thou not I can strike thee
with bolt fairly in face?"
"Strike then. 'Tis better so."
Cedric turned to me with blank amaze upon his face.
"Heard thou ever the like? The man defies us to the death." Then,
quickly thrusting his bow into my hands:
"Hold this against mischance. There's more to this than we know. I will
fetch this fellow forth."
"Hold Cedric," I cried, "beware lest he stab thee."
But my comrade had already advanced into the darkened room. He sprang
beneath the table, like a boar-hound on his prey, and in an instant
emerged at deathly grips with a man as broad and heavy as himself who
fought with tooth and nail and heel and with the fierceness of a
cornered wolf. E'en in that moment I noted the iron collar on his neck,
and knew we had to do with Egbert, the Gilroy thrall.
Round and round they whirled in desperate wrestling, the while I tried
in vain to be of help. In a moment they were out of the room where the
villein had lain hidden and fighting full madly in the lodge, the thrall
striving to throw his captor from him and make his way out the door and
into the woods beyond.
Finding this impossible, he made a mighty effort, and lifted Cedric
fairly from his feet, and flung him on his side upon the floor. For an
instant it seemed he would win away unless I drove a quarrel through
him; but Cedric twisted instantly and rolled the other on his back. Then
in a flash he had pinned him down and had his knee on his breast.
"Now yield thee," Cedric panted. "Thou seest I can slay thee if I will."
"Slay me then," gasped the other. "'Tis better than Lord Gilroy's
branding iron or hanging noose."
"Ah then, thou'rt Egbert that murdered the dogmaster?"
"No murderer am I; but that will serve me not. Lord Gilroy will have me
flayed alive with ne'er a chance to tell my tale."
For a moment Cedric gazed into the bloodshot eyes beneath him. Then he
questioned, slowly:
"Hark thee, my man. If I let thee up, wilt thou sit quiet and tell to us
thy tale of this day's doings?"
"Aye," replied the thrall, "though to me 'tis all one. Thou'rt a knight
and landlord, and wilt have no ear for the words of a thrall that wears
the iron collar and is hunted by his master like a sheep-killing hound."
"Of that we shall see," replied Cedric, and, springing up, he released
his prisoner and pointed to one of the benches that he might sit before
us. "Now tell us," he commanded, "why thou did'st beat the dogmaster
till he lies near to death."
Egbert, the thrall, took seat as he was bidden, loosed the garment that
had tightened about his throat in the struggle and began:
"Simon, the dogmaster, had ever a grudge toward me,--for what I know
not. And when I went to him three days ago to say that one huge hound of
his pack had come a roaring at me as I worked in the field, and forced
me to climb on a hay rick to 'scape his jaws, he only laughed and said
that thrall-meat would be cheaper far for such a valued beast than beef
or mutton. This morn, at nine o' the clock, I crossed the hay field at
the back of the kennels, and out leaped this same hound with frightful
growls and roars and widely opened jaws as if he would devour me
forthwith. No tree or hay-rick was at hand that I could climb; and I
seized me a stone the size of my right fist, and with it felled the
beast so that he lay still enough upon the grass. This was no sooner
done than I heard behind me the running feet of Simon, the dogmaster. He
had his dog-whip in his hand; and when he came in reach, he struck at me
with all his might. The lash curled about my face, and made the weals
you still may plainly see. Such despite was more than I could bear. I
seized the whip from his hand, and although I knew full well it meant
the branding iron or the gallows, I struck him thrice o'er the head with
the loaded butt he keeps for the savage and unruly ones among his pack.
Simon fell down in a heap. And then I saw Lord Gilroy riding toward me
from a hilltop a furlong off, and made for the woods where his horse
could not follow. They hunted me all morning, but I would have won away
had'st thou not found me."
When the thrall had ceased speaking it was very still in the lodge.
Cedric looked at me with a painful question in his eyes. What my own
looks answered I know not save from his words that quickly followed.
"Egbert," he cried, "thy act may have been lawless; but we will not
judge thee; and thou shalt not be sent back to the lash or the branding
iron by act of ours. Neither shalt thou longer wear that badge of
slavery about thy neck. Here's that which will sever it."
Striding to the darkened corner he took from among the armorer's tools a
stout, long-bladed file; then, springing back to Egbert's side, seized
the iron ring with one hand and set to work upon it with lusty strokes.
Soon the band was half cut through; then Cedric dropped the file, and,
taking the collar in both his sinewy hands, gave a mighty twist, broke
it apart utterly and flung it as an accursed thing into the blackness
beneath the armorer bench.
Next he took his cross-bow from the table and thrust it into Egbert's
hands.
"Take this for thy safer journeying," he cried, "thou'lt need to travel
fast and far for some few days. Then thou may'st take service under some
true lord as a plowman or a soldier as thou wilt. From this day forth
thou art a freeman."
Egbert gazed at Cedric with tears streaming down his face. Then he fell
on his knees before him; but my comrade raised him almost roughly.
"Up with thee, Egbert! Thou'rt a freeman now, and should do utter homage
to none but God. And there's work to do if thou wilt keep thy freedom.
Thou must be far away from Gilroy before another morn."
Egbert, among his sobs of joy, could say no word. I found in my pouch a
little purse of gold and gave it him.
"Thou'lt need to buy thy food and lodging as a traveler," I said, "and
not be taken as a prowling varlet. Look to it now."
Then he that had been our prisoner found voice at last and began to
murmur broken words of thanks and to encumber his new found liberty with
oaths of lifelong fealty to ourselves. But Cedric again checked him with
uplifted hand.
"Hark!" he whispered, "what was that sound?"
For a moment all three of us stood silent and breathless, listening to
the wind in the branches without and the faint snapping of coals on the
hearth. Then came the noise again,--a long drawn, baying howl of a hound
on a scent.
"Some of our neighbors hunt the deer," I said.
"Nay," answered Cedric quickly, "'tis no deer-hound. 'Tis a far deeper
note."
Meanwhile the face of Egbert had turned an ashen gray, and now his limbs
shook with very terror.
"'Tis the bloodhounds of Gilroy," he gasped. "My lord ever keeps two or
three for just such use as this. They follow on my track."
Then from a window we saw, a furlong off in the open wood, two huge
brown hounds that ran with noses close to earth and upon a path that led
straight toward the lodge.
Cedric seized his cross-bow again from Egbert's hands.
"Get thee back within," he commanded, "I will soon stop the coursing of
these blood beasts."
Egbert leaped through the door again to the inner room; and Cedric,
throwing wide the shutter, was taking aim at the foremost of the hounds
when I cried out from behind him:
"Hold! Hold! It is too late. There come the horsemen."
From another point in the wood, not far from where the dogs had emerged,
there were now riding toward us half a dozen mounted men. Cedric
withdrew his weapon; and we gazed upon them in utter dismay. Lord Gilroy
and Sir Philip Carrington were in the lead, and after them came three or
four stout foresters and last of all, upon an ambling palfrey, none
other than Simon, the dogmaster, with his head bound round and round
with a great white cloth.
Cedric put away his bow, and, unbarring the door of the lodge, stood on
the step without, spurning away the hounds that sought to enter.
"Good morrow, gentlemen!" he called, full jovially.
"Good morrow, gentlemen _both_," answered Lord Gilroy with a most wicked
laugh.
"Your hunting does not prosper," said Cedric, paying no heed to the
affront conveyed in Gilroy's sneering words.
"How not?"
"Why, it would seem that your hounds have picked up our trail to the
lodge here in place of that of their proper quarry, as the best of dogs
will do at times."
"Aye," answered Lord Gilroy, still with the evil smile on his face. "The
best of dogs and men do err at times. And yet, 'tis passing strange they
are so set upon it. See! They course about and about thy little lodge
and will not leave it."
Cedric cast a careless glance at the hounds. Then he said:
"Come messieurs, can ye not alight for a moment and rest within? I
cannot offer meat and drink for here we have none; but you may sit upon
a bench by a fire while your men aid the hounds at finding the track
again."
Lord Gilroy threw his bridle rein to one of the foresters, leaped down
from his horse, and strode toward the door; and his nephew did likewise.
Simon and the others withdrew to a little distance and dismounted by the
brook where they called the hounds to them.
When our most unwelcome guests were within the lodge, Cedric made haste
to place for them the benches before the fireplace and again lamented
that the place afforded nothing of refreshment. I made such talk as I
might with both Lord Gilroy and Sir Philip, asking them of the tourney
at Winchester where they had lately ridden, the deer on Gilroy lands and
other like matters of no import.
Gilroy's keen gray eyes roved ever about the lodge; and after one or two
courteous replies to my questions, he asked of Cedric:
"Art sure, Grimsby, that that inner room contains no cask or wine-skin?
'Twould seem else that thy lodge is but meagerly furnished."
"Aye, 'tis so," answered Cedric at once.
Again our guest glanced keenly at Sir Cedric, while I breathed shortly
indeed. But he said no more; and now I made diversion by asking Sir
Philip if 'twas true that the Carringtons are Welsh descended. I knew
full well 'twas not; and was hugely pleased when he denied it hotly and
went on at greatest length to prove his family of pure Norman blood by
reciting all the quarterings on the Carrington shield and their origins
in the days before the Conquest.
At last Lord Gilroy stood erect and said, to my great and joyful relief:
"Welladay! We must fare on, if ever we are to take that runagate. The
sunbeams already slope far to westward; and 'twill soon be--"
But there his words were of a sudden checked; and he stood staring at a
point on the floor beneath the bench, three yards away. There, where
half an hour before all had been deepest shadow, the sloping beam of the
afternoon sun now rested, and brought to clear and certain view _the
iron collar_.
With an oath he sprang forward and seized it. Holding it up before us,
he read in a loud voice the graven words:
"_Egbert, Thrall of William, Lord of Gilroy._"
Cedric stood facing him; and none of us spoke any word. Then Gilroy
flung the collar on the floor and burst forth:
"Ah then! 'Tis even as I thought. One churl will help another in any
strait."
At this insult to my comrade, my hand flew to where my good sword should
have been; and I ground my teeth to find it not. But Gilroy paid no heed
to me. Instantly he sprang forward toward the inner door.
"We'll see what lies within," he shouted.
But Cedric De La Roche was quicker yet. He leaped before the door, and
with a mighty push sent Lord Gilroy half across the room. Then both
Gilroy and Carrington drew swords and rushed upon us. By this time I had
gathered my wits, and recalling the goodly weapon at my very back, had
turned and seized the rusted broadsword from above the fireplace. I was
but just in time to receive the attack of both of them at once; for
Cedric stooped to reach his cross-bow which rested against the wall,
ready drawn and with the bolt he had meant for the hound still in
groove. For a moment I withstood the double attack; then Sir Philip only
was before me. He fought fiercely enough, forsooth, but in a most
lubberly fashion. Half a dozen strokes and I caught his weapon with a
twist I had long practiced and sent it clattering across the floor. Then
with loud menaces of running him through the body, I drove him before me
to the wall where I made him stand with hands above his head. Glancing
sidewise, I now beheld the Lord of Gilroy in the same pitiful plight.
His weapon also lay on the floor; and Cedric stood before him with
cross-bow leveled at his heart.
"Wilt thou slay us then," growled Gilroy, "in unseemly brawl over this
runagate?"
"Nay," answered Cedric sweetly, "but ye are our prisoners, duly taken.
If we grant your lives and arms, you shall give us knightly word to
retire from the lands of Grimsby, and give o'er this bloody hunting you
were bent upon."
"That word we give," said Gilroy, shortly.
We instantly lowered our weapons, and, stooping, lifted the swords from
the floor and returned them to their owners. Simon, the dogmaster,
opened the door and thrust in his bandaged head wherein one eye was
purple and swollen with a blow it had received from the whip butt.
Behind him stood two of the foresters.
"Return thou, till I call thee," shouted Gilroy furiously.
When they had retired once more to the brookside, our late antagonists
turned again to leave the lodge. At the door Lord Gilroy paused and
spake again, slowly and as one that fully weighs his words.
"Our word is given to leave the lands of Grimsby and thus to allow this
thrall to escape. But no promise have we given as to aught else. Mayhap
the King will listen when I send him word at Winchester how his vassal
so newly of the fee of Grimsby is bearing himself. Mayhap it will not
seem to him quite fitting that one who holds his lands in fee should
with deceit and with violence shelter misdoing churls from their lawful
masters."
[Illustration: _THEN WITH LOUD MENACES I DROVE HIM TO THE WALL WHERE I
MADE HIM STAND WITH HANDS ABOVE HIS HEAD_]
I caught my breath in dismay. Such a threat I knew the crafty Gilroy
quite capable of carrying out. For myself I had little concern: the
Mountjoys were too strong in the Western country and too valuable to the
King's cause for any such matter to bring down upon us any serious
menace. But Cedric was a yeoman born; and many there were to think with
spite and envy of his rise to knightly dignity.
Sir Philip now burst forth with a cackling laugh--the first sound that
had come from him since I had him at the wall with his hands o'er his
head.
"Ha, Grimsby!" he jibed, "thou'rt not so great a victor as it seemed.
Mayhap the fee of Grimsby will soon be vacant once more."
Then Cedric spoke again, his words being pronounced with the same slow
heedfulness with which the Lord of Gilroy had uttered his threat a
moment since.
"'Tis true, my lord, that naught prevents thee from sending or carrying
this tale to the King. 'Tis also true--and this mayhap thou hast
forgotten--that naught prevents _me_, in the event of thy wishing to
carry this quarrel further, from taking to the King the full account
(well known to me though thou hast thought it hidden) of thy doings and
those of the Carringtons during the weeks that followed the King's
return to England, and while his traitorous brother, Prince John, with
the aid of certain gentlemen who might have been more loyally employed,
strove to keep him from his throne, and even, so 'tis said, to deprive
him of life."
Before the half of this had been spoken the face of Lord Gilroy had
grown pale as death, and he seemed to shrink a full handsbreadth in
stature. His nephew gazed from one to the other of us with whitened
cheeks and foolish, open mouth. As soon as Cedric had finished, Lord
Gilroy began in a tone far different from any he had used that day:
"Nay, nay, Grimsby and Mountjoy both! Why _should_ we make of this
trifling despite o'er a runagate thrall such a matter of bitter
menacing? In truth, 'twere well should we all forget this day of petty
quarreling and live in neighborly peace henceforth."
"Nothing would better please me," quoth Sir Cedric in reply.
"And thou, Mountjoy?" pursued Lord Gilroy, "what sayest thou?"
"With all my heart," I replied.
Lord Gilroy seemed about to offer his hand in token of our
reconciliation; but mayhap something in our faces stayed him. With a
hurried bow he turned once more to the door of the lodge. After him went
Sir Philip, reminding me in his shrunken confidence of a rain-drenched
chanticleer. At the brookside, they climbed sullenly upon their horses'
backs, and without a word to their followers, spurred away through the
forest.
An hour later, Egbert, the freeman, astride a good horse from the
Grimsby stables, with cross-bow in hand and gold in pouch, was riding
through the twilight on the road to Shrewsbury.