Edgar found his energies taxed to the utmost to keep the spirits of his
young charges within reasonable bounds. Sometimes they scoffed at him
and sometimes defied him, but with the aid of a half hint that if the
worst came to the worst they would have to ride behind a man-at-arms, he
managed to keep them in fair order. It was with a sigh of relief, so
far as they were concerned, however, that he rode into Dover town.
Sir John had arrived and was awaiting their coming at the rendezvous
agreed upon. After the first greetings were over, and the ladies were
as comfortably disposed of as the crowded state of the inns would allow,
he led Edgar aside.
"How went the journey hither? Are the ladies well and the men-at-arms
of good hap? I hope thou didst maintain a firm discipline, Edgar."
"The ladies are well and the journey passed without mishap. I had no
trouble with the men, though I fear the ladies were inclined to be
somewhat unruly. I hope thou art well also, Sir John?"
"Well enough, lad. We embark to-morrow, and all told the Earl of Derby
will muster a force of three thousand men. We shall land at Bayonne,
and probably march on to Bordeaux. That is as much as it behoves me to
tell thee of the expedition at present. There is, however, one other
thing I must acquaint thee of at once, as it is closely concerned, I do
greatly fear, with mine own personal safety. During this expedition, it
is like enough that my life will be in constant jeopardy, not from the
enemy but from one amongst my own side. The truth is, I have an enemy,
and I look to thee, lad, to aid me to frustrate his evil designs."
"I will indeed do all I can, Sir John. But who is this dastard who in
time of war would aim at the life of one of his own countrymen? Tell me
his name, I pray thee, so that I may know him and thus be able to guard
thee the more certainly."
"'Tis Sir Gervaise de Maupas. He is unknown to thee at present, but
before we are through with this expedition thou art likely to know him
only too well. He is a man of evil character, unless my judgment and
that of some others are at fault, though he well knoweth how to
ingratiate himself into the good opinion of those in authority. He hath
already gained the ear of the earl, and that alone bodeth ill for me.
The cause of our enmity dateth back many years, to the time when his
father was dispossessed of his estates for treason and they were
bestowed upon my father. He hath been trained from childhood to
consider me and mine as his most bitter enemies, and he seemeth to have
learned his lesson well. More than that, we have had high words on two
occasions, and once we have met in single combat. He was worsted, and
since then he hath lost no opportunity of revenging himself most fully.
"I have been stabbed in the back on English soil by a miscreant whose
object was certainly not robbery. I was turning as he struck or I
should not be here now. The man escaped, but I caught a fleeting
glimpse of him, and two months later I saw talking with Sir Gervaise a
man who resembled him most uncomfortably. Until now, fortunately for
me, I have never been in the same quarter of the field as Sir Gervaise,
but now that we are thrown together it behoves us to keep watch and
ward--Hist! This is he, Edgar."
Startled by the sudden change of tone, Edgar glanced quickly in the
direction in which Sir John was looking and saw a tall and somewhat
gaunt knight sauntering easily towards them. He was dressed in silks in
the height of fashion and made a brave show, though the expression of
his strongly marked features seemed to Edgar to consort but ill with his
dainty attire. As he came closer, his evil expression intensified and
became so ugly and insolent a scowl that Edgar saw Sir John's hand steal
involuntarily to his sword hilt. Noticing the action, Sir Gervaise's
face relaxed into a smile hardly less forbidding than his frown, as he
snarled:
"Never fear, thou shalt soon have opportunity an thou dost desire it."
"I do desire it, De Maupas. Thine insolence alone merits chastisement,
but besides and above all that there is a matter between us that can
never be wiped away until thou hast bit the dust."
"Thou art right, Sir John. The deeds of thy grasping forbears stand
between us, and one of us, I swear, shall be humiliated before many
months are past."
"I speak of far viler things than those, things too of more recent
date--things that, could I but prove them, would send thee hotfoot to a
felon's cell."
Sir Gervaise ground his teeth as he glanced uneasily from Sir John to
his esquire.
"Darest thou make such shameful allegations against me openly? Darest
thou speak out boldly to the earl, or must thou, like a baseborn coward,
hint darkly and secretly against mine honour?"
"Thou well knowest I can prove nothing, Sir Gervaise, until I prove it
on thy body. Wilt meet me in single combat _a outrance_?"
"I will. And I swear to punish thee. The earl purposes a tourney when
he doth enter Bordeaux. Then thy chance will come unless thou hast
thought better of it. Ha! Ha! Perchance when the time cometh, Sir
John Chartris may not be so eager to meet Sir Gervaise de Maupas face to
face and lance to lance in a fight to the death?"
"Thou wilt see. At Bordeaux I will challenge thee publicly, and thou
wilt be compelled to answer for thy ill deeds with lance, sword, and
dagger."
With a smile which seemed to Edgar one of malicious triumph, Sir
Gervaise turned on his heel and sauntered slowly away. Sir John looked
after him for a minute with a frowning face which showed plainly how
deeply his anger had been stirred. Then he turned to Edgar and said:
"I would not miss meeting Sir Gervaise for all I possess, Edgar. What I
fear most, however, is that he may find some pretext for avoiding a
conflict, so do thou make it public that at the earl's tourney Sir John
Chartris will issue a challenge to Sir Gervaise de Maupas to a combat _a
outrance_. Thus only, when all are agog with expectation, can we be sure
that he will not disappoint us."
"I will see to it, Sir John. I will make the encounter so public that
it will be hard indeed for De Maupas to find a way out with honour."
The next day the whole of the expeditionary force embarked, and sail was
set for the south of France. Edgar was kept very busy, for Sir John,
who was often in attendance on the Earl of Derby, left in his hands all
the arrangements for the accommodation of the Wolsingham ladies and
their maids on shore and afloat, the victualling of the Wolsingham
men-at-arms and their horses during the voyage, and the responsibility
of seeing to the general comfort and wellbeing of the whole of the
party.
He carried out his many duties, however, with a thoroughness that soon
earned him the respect and affection of all concerned, except perhaps of
the ladies, who may have missed the gallantries of Aymery and Roland and
have found Edgar's directness not altogether to their liking. Certainly
the lady Beatrice more than once rallied him severely upon a devotion to
duty that scarce, she said, permitted him to smile at a merry thrust.
But Edgar lightly passed the matter off, for he was indeed far too
absorbed in the coming campaign to care to take the place of either
Aymery or Roland. The mention of a tourney, too, had given him much
food for thought. It seemed possible that some place might be found for
esquires in the proceedings, and might not he as well as his master
figure in the conflicts? Full of the idea, and dreading lest he might
be getting somewhat out of practice with the sword--for since he had
been esquire to Sir John he had been so busy that he had had fewer
opportunities for practising than formerly--Edgar set Peter to make
enquiries and to find out if any men-at-arms or esquires of especial
note for skill with weapons were accompanying the expedition.
After a voyage swift and pleasant, though quite devoid of incident, the
fleet arrived at Bayonne, where the earl's force landed and marched
along the coast to Bordeaux. Here the army encamped, and, having joined
forces with the available troops of the province, mustered quite a
goodly array. To Sir John's stern delight, it was not long before the
Earl of Derby proposed a tournament, with the object of interesting the
townspeople in the campaign and of strengthening the warlike spirit of
his men in readiness for active operations. His proposals were received
with general acclamation, and, a date being fixed, the arrangements
proceeded with the greatest speed and enthusiasm.
From the first day of his arrival at the camp Edgar had put into
operation his scheme for obtaining useful practice, and several old
campaigners among both the English and Gascon forces had been induced by
offers of sundry good cheer to venture a bout with the eager esquire.
Most of the men he found were hardly up to their reputations, but from
some he was able to glean useful knowledge of yet more varied modes of
attack and defence. At the same time the practices served excellently
to keep him in perfect trim and fitness.
The reward for this diligence came when it was presently announced that
the tourney would open with a contest of esquires before the more
serious work of the day was entered upon.
The contest of honour between Sir John Chartris and Sir Gervaise de
Maupas was fixed for the afternoon, immediately after the contest
between knights on foot. By general consent this encounter was regarded
as the most important and interesting of the whole tourney, partly
because of the well-established reputations of the two knights, but more
especially because the bad blood existing between them made it certain
that the encounter would be fought out to the bitter end.
Some three days before the date fixed for the tourney, Peter drew Edgar
aside.
"I fear there is something afoot, Master Edgar, that bodeth ill for
someone."
"Oh, and what is that, Peter?"
"There have been two men of hangdog looks haunting this end of the camp
for several days. As thou know'st, I have lived in the midst of
cutthroats and ruffians and know something of their ways, and methinks
these men are seeking an opportunity to plunder."
"But to plunder whom?"
"Sir John, I fear. Know'st thou if he hath brought much money or
valuables with him?"
"I have not heard of it, and if _I_ know not I see not how others can
have learned it."
"Then I must be mistaken. It is doubtless some other knight they wish
to rob, for that they are after something of the sort I am wellnigh
certain."
Suddenly Edgar recollected what Sir John had told him of the attempt
upon his life which had, he thought, been planned by Sir Gervaise. It
seemed improbable that De Maupas would again make such an attempt,
especially as he would so soon have ample opportunity for revenge in the
encounter in the lists. Still, it would be well that no stone should be
left unturned that might affect his master's safety.
"After all, Peter, keep a close watch upon these men. Though their evil
designs may not be directed against us, I would still frustrate them an
we can. Keep an eye upon them without being thyself seen, and find out
whether they have any friends within the camp."
"I will, sir;" and Peter limped off with the air of one setting about a
task especially congenial to him.
Nothing, however, occurred in any way suspicious until the very eve of
the tournament. By that time everything in connection with the
arrangements had been settled, and the esquires of the English army had
been rendered wild with excitement at the news that the proceedings
would be opened by a melee between seven esquires chosen from amongst
their number and a like number selected from among their Gascon allies.
Originally this spectacular encounter had been intended for knights,
but, fearing that the victory of either side might lead to jealousy and
hinder the harmonious working of the two branches of his army, the Earl
of Derby prohibited the engagement in the form proposed, and substituted
for it a general melee in which the members of the two competing bodies
were drawn promiscuously from amongst the knights of both nations.
The projectors of the original scheme, however, unwilling to abandon
their proposal altogether, urged that the objections brought against it
hardly applied to a contest amongst esquires. To this the earl
assented, and it was finally arranged that in the esquires' melee the
two sides should be drawn from amongst the English and Gascon troops
respectively. The news was received with acclamation, and it soon
became abundantly evident that, although the contest was one for
esquires only, its unusual character had invested it with much more than
the usual interest.
On the English side some thirty of the better-known esquires were
quickly selected, and invited to compete among themselves for the honour
of representing their nation in the coming contest. Edgar was one of
those invited to compete, and, doing well in all his encounters,
eventually found himself one of the seven chosen representatives of the
squirehood of the English army.
Scarcely had he had time to receive the congratulations of his friends
upon his good fortune, and to indulge in pleasant dreams of the stirring
encounters and ultimate victory that he confidently believed awaited his
side, before an event happened that drove the whole thing from his mind
almost as completely as though it had never been even mooted.
It has already been observed that it was not until the very eve of the
tournament that Edgar had any suspicions that aught was in any way amiss
with Sir John or his affairs. He was in his tent at the time, about to
retire for the night somewhat earlier than usual, in anticipation of the
trying ordeal of the morrow, when someone tapped at the canvas.
"Enter," responded Edgar.
Peter entered, and from his heaving chest and anxious face Edgar saw at
once that something had happened.
"What is it, Peter?" he cried quickly.
"The ladies Gertrude and Beatrice have sent me hither to enquire whether
aught hath been seen of Sir John. He hath not yet returned, though he
was expected long since. As thou know'st, he always sups with them at
their inn in the town before he returns to the camp for the night."
"I know. So he hath not yet returned? He went for his usual ride about
the countryside this afternoon, and, not seeing him more, I thought he
must be in the town with the ladies. What can have occurred to keep
him?"
"Dost think those evilly-disposed men have had aught to do with it,
Master Edgar?"
The same thought had occurred to Edgar, but, dreading it, he had tried
to put it away from him. It came back with the force of a blow when he
found that the same idea had struck Peter.
"It may be so, Peter," he replied reluctantly. "I hope it may only be
that he hath been detained--perchance because his horse hath cast a
shoe--but I cannot help a feeling of dread lest it be that those men
have had something to do with it. Didst ever find out aught concerning
them?"
"Nothing, save that one of them spoke one day to Sir Gervaise de Maupas;
but as he flew into a violent rage at the man accosting him, I did not
think there could be any connection between them."
"Ah!" groaned Edgar. "Then I fear the worst. I have not told thee,
Peter--and heavy is my responsibility for it--that emissaries of Sir
Gervaise did once attempt Sir John's life. Sir John told me in order
that I might the better watch over his safety, and right badly have I
done it!"
"But scarce could we have prevented this, Master Edgar. None would have
thought of watching over Sir John while he was in the saddle and fully
armed."
"Nay, but I might have warned him that assassins were on the lurk. But
this is no time for self-reproachings. I must do all I can to repair
the mischief done. Bring me a spare horse, Peter, and tell Matthew to
be in the saddle and ready waiting for me outside the north gate of the
town in a quarter of an hour. Late as it is, we must scour the
countryside. Sir John may be lying wounded in some lonely wood, or be
yet defending himself against cowardly adversaries. Quickly, Peter, for
thy master's life!"
Peter limped away at the top of his speed, and Edgar quickly threw off
his outer clothes and put on a light shirt of mail made of tiny links of
interlaced steel, similar to that which Sir John, as a precaution
against his enemy, usually wore when not in armour. The shirt of mail
fitted closely, and when his doublet was donned once more no one would
have guessed that so thorough a protection lay hidden beneath its folds.
Quick as he was, the lad was back with his horse as soon as he was
ready, and Edgar instantly mounted and rode off into the town of
Bordeaux, first bidding Peter set to work to find, if possible, some
trace of the suspected men.
On arriving at the inn where the ladies Gertrude and Beatrice were
staying, Edgar found them still up, anxiously awaiting news.
"He hath not yet returned, then?" he cried, as he saw their anxious
faces.
"No. Surely someone hath seen him?" cried Gertrude in alarm.
"No one. But do not distress thyself so soon. I am going to sally out
with Matthew to scour the countryside, and if Sir John is anywhere near,
surely we shall come upon him. Doubtless he hath merely met with some
trifling accident that keepeth him back for a few hours."
"Yes, Gertrude," put in Beatrice, laying her hand on her friend's arm,
"thy father is too hardy and experienced a warrior and horseman easily
to come to harm. I will warrant he will be back ere day dawns.
Nevertheless," she went on, turning to Edgar, "thou hadst better make
search as thou hast purposed, Master Wintour, unless, indeed, thou art
fearful of spoiling thy chances in the melee to-morrow by passing the
night thus."
"I care not a fig for the melee, so be it I can see Sir John back safe
and sound," cried Edgar hastily, considerably nettled at the smile which
accompanied the last remark, and, saluting, he turned on his heel and
strode from the room. Here he paused for a moment, and, retracing his
steps, told the ladies it would be useless for them to wait up longer,
as the gates of the city would shortly close, and no one would be able
to pass either in or out before daybreak.
For some hours the night was moonlit, and Edgar and Matthew, dividing
the countryside between them, scoured it for miles and miles around.
Full of anxiety, for Edgar had communicated his fears to the
man-at-arms, they rode hard and fast, with little regard for their own
necks or the limits of the horses they bestrode, and by the time the sky
clouded over so that further real progress was impossible, they had
become convinced that Sir John was nowhere in the vicinity. Returning
to the camp, Edgar called Peter to him.
"Well, Peter, didst find out aught?"
"Nay, sir. None hath seen the two men of late, so perchance they know
naught of this matter, after all."
"That, at least, is good news, and it may well turn out that nothing
serious hath happened to Sir John. Now, Peter, I am going to lie down
for an hour or two. Rouse me at daybreak, for I must acquaint the
ladies Gertrude and Beatrice of the poor success of my search as soon as
the city gates are open."
Peter nodded and retired, and Edgar flung himself down just as he was,
and almost instantly fell into a deep slumber.
It was long after sunrise when he awoke, and furious with Peter for
letting him sleep so long, he hurried to the lad's tent.
"Why did ye not call me, Peter?" he cried angrily.
"All is well, Master Edgar. I have been into the town, and have told
the ladies that there is no news, and that thou wert worn out with
searching, and sleeping heavily. I have hopes that thou wilt make thy
name in the melee to-day; but what chance would there be of thy doing
thyself justice after wearing thyself out riding all night long?"
Too angry to bandy words with the lad, and realizing, too, that it was
out of regard for him that he had disobeyed his orders, Edgar strode
back to his tent, hastily washed himself, and then rode into the town.
He had no good news to tell, and the ladies could not help but feel that
something serious must be keeping Sir John, or he would certainly have
either appeared in person or have sent someone to tell them of his
detention elsewhere. It was for them a time of anxiety and perplexity,
and Edgar could do little save suggest all sorts of accidents that might
have kept the knight back for a few hours.
One thing besides his master's life, however, Edgar felt he had to
consider, and that was his honour. With the contest of the afternoon
Sir John's honour was now closely bound up. The utmost publicity had
been given to the affair, and did he not appear and answer to the
challenge of Sir Gervaise de Maupas, he would be regarded on all sides
as a dishonoured knight. Edgar felt this most keenly, and resolved that
at all costs he would keep the secret of Sir John's disappearance from
becoming known, so that if he returned at the last moment, as he might
well do, idle tongues would have had no cause to wag against him.
No one besides the ladies, Matthew, and Peter knew that Sir John was
missing, and all these he swore to silence. They were ready enough to
agree, for none could think that so experienced a warrior as Sir John
could have been overcome so easily as to disappear and leave no trace.
In fact, Matthew roundly declared that an hour or so before the contest
with Sir Gervaise was timed to commence would see him back, and the
others fervently hoped that he might prove to be right.
*CHAPTER VIII*
*The Lists of Bordeaux*
Completely forgetting that he was one of the seven chosen to do battle
for the English esquires against the best of their Gascon allies, Edgar
spent the little time left of the morning in making enquiries of all who
might have seen Sir John at any point during his afternoon's
ride--countrymen coming in with carts laden with farm produce, the men
who had kept watch during the afternoon and evening along the outer side
of the camp, and any others who might possibly have some news to tell,
however meagre. His enquiries were quite fruitless, however, and his
fears that there might have been foul play gradually returned to him as
the morning wore on. At last he returned to the camp and sent for
Peter.
"Peter," he said, "I want thee now to keep close watch to see who doth
visit Sir Gervaise de Maupas. I begin to feel once more that he is at
the bottom of the mischief; and it hath occurred to me that if his
emissaries have waylaid Sir John they will, if they have not done so
already, come to him to report the result of their vile plot. Keep
watch, then, and see who the men are, and if thou canst do so quietly,
call Matthew and scruple not to seize them on some pretext or another.
Pick a quarrel with them--anything, so long as ye lay hands on them and
keep them till I come."
Peter nodded, as though in entire approval, and limped off upon his
errand, and Edgar turned to find Arthur Pomeroy, mounted and armed,
waiting for him with every sign of impatience a pace or two away.
"So this is the way thou dost spend the precious moments--gibbering with
stableboys and camp followers, Edgar Wintour," he cried in a voice of
disgust. "'Tis but twenty minutes short of noon, and thou not in the
saddle and not a piece of thine armour girded on. Hast gone daft, man,
or forgotten that the onset sounds at noon?"
"I have been busy, Arthur, and could wish that thou wouldst find some
other to take my place. Let the best of those who were tried and passed
over take the lance in my stead--each of them was well worthy to
represent our squirehood to-day."
"Tush, Edgar, talk not such nonsense! Rather would I hold back our
whole band until thou wert ready, though 'twere an hour. Get on thine
armour without more ado. Where is thy boy?"
"I have sent him upon an errand of great import to me. Give me a hand
and I will soon be ready."
With an angry snort Arthur set spurs to his horse and galloped away
through the camp like a whirlwind. In half a minute he was back, and
two lads following at top speed proclaimed that he had not been idle.
"Come hither, varlets, and gird on this armour. Quickly, now, unless ye
wish the Frenchmen to get the better of us."
Rapidly the pieces of armour were strapped and buckled on until Edgar
stood complete, a wall of shining steel.
"Where is thy gage?"
"I have none."
"What? Hast thou no damsel to watch for thine entry into the lists?"
"Nay."
Arthur shrugged his shoulders in perplexity. "Well, every man to his
taste. Where is now thy horse? Where dost stable it?"
"Straight along the lines a furlong. Let the youths bring the gear, and
for the nonce I will walk to it."
It was still five minutes short of noon when Edgar mounted and, closely
shepherded by Arthur Pomeroy, who seemed to fear he might yet escape,
rode off to the competitors' enclosure adjoining the lists.