ward, "she must home with me. I fear she is getting wayward and
headstrong, and if I am to keep close watch upon every gallant who
dreams of the revenue of her lands, my task will be no light one.
Fortunately for me, I have the bestowal of her hand in marriage, and,
with no little relief, I have decided to find a suitable husband for
her. 'Twill lighten my responsibilities, and her lands need a good
sword to defend them in these troublous times. I have for some time had
in mind a knight of good descent and of staid demeanour, and I shall now
bring matters to a head."
"But, Sir John----" stammered Beatrice in hot amaze.
"Be silent, maid!" cried Sir John angrily. "Wouldst dare to oppose thy
wishes against the considered judgment of thy guardian?"
But Beatrice stood her ground rebelliously, tossing her pretty head in
unmistakable anger and defiance. Nevertheless, Sir John showed no sign
of relenting, and, not daring to oppose him openly, at last she turned
with a look of appeal to Edgar, who was staring at the floor with an air
that betokened no little disturbance of mind. His glance met hers, and
it was clear to her that he knew as little of Sir John's plans as she.
"Who is this knight, then?" she cried in a stifled voice, turning again
towards Sir John.
"He is a knight of some fame. One, moreover, of sober and godly
habits."
"But who is he?"
"Think not that I will allow thee to question my----"
"Torture me not, Sir John!" cried Beatrice vehemently. "Who is he?"
"'Tis Sir Edgar Wintour, Beatrice."
"_Oh!_"
"Darest thou oppose my will, Beatrice?"
Beatrice was flushed, and looked as though she hardly knew which way to
turn. Edgar was staring at Sir John as if he thought his ears had
played him a trick.
For some moments there was silence, and then Sir John repeated his
question, for Beatrice had turned away and was toying with her brooch.
"Dost oppose my will, Beatrice?"
"It would grieve me to disobey thee, Sir John," she said at length, in a
tone of dutiful submission.
"He will make thee a good husband," replied Sir John, smiling in a way
that made Beatrice inwardly furious. "What dost think of my choice,
girl?"
Beatrice subdued her resentment as best she could, and replied demurely:
"Mayhap he is better than De Maupas."
"De Maupas! Canst say no more than that, Beatrice?" cried Edgar,
breaking in impetuously.
"Not one word," replied the maid, with a haughty stamp of the foot as
she turned the vials of her resentment upon the luckless Edgar. Sir
John laughed outright, and with the best grace he could Edgar was, for
the moment, forced to rest content. But a time would come, he vowed to
himself, when a much more satisfactory reply should be forthcoming.
The farewells were soon said, and in a few hours Edgar was on his way to
join the earl, while Sir John and his daughter and ward were en route
for England. Though scarce another word was exchanged, it was
nevertheless well understood between Beatrice and our hero that, on his
return from the wars, he would receive a warmer welcome and the full
payment promised him so readily a day or two before.
The campaign proved to be a brilliant one. It opened with a sudden and
desperate onslaught upon Bergerac, where the French had strongly
entrenched themselves. The town was stormed with a swing that so
astounded the French that their forces dispersed before the earl, and
allowed him to overrun Perigord and the Agenois with scarce an attempt
at resistance.
Presently, however, the French collected a new army, and, returning to
the attack, laid siege to Auberoche with ten thousand men. The news of
the attack reached the Earl of Derby too late to enable him to collect a
proper force, but, with the true spirit of chivalry, he started away for
the scene with but three hundred lances and six hundred archers.
Arrived in the vicinity of the beleaguered town, the tiny English force
stole upon the enemy under cover of a wood, and, regardless of their
overwhelming strength, attacked them so furiously that the whole French
army were glad to save themselves by flight. So great was the respect
this feat brought to the English name that fortress after fortress fell
into their hands with scarce a check, and it was not until France was
completely aroused, and sent the Duke of Normandy with one hundred
thousand men, that the small force of conquering Englishmen could be
stayed.
Aiguillon, held by Sir Walter Manny for England, was attacked by the
whole of the huge French army. For five months assault after assault
was made upon it. On one occasion, indeed, for five successive days the
fight went on, each of the four divisions of the French army taking its
turn for three hours at a time. All to no purpose. The brave garrison
repulsed all assaults, and even then showed no sign of exhaustion. The
siege was at length raised, and the earl was left for the time being the
undisputed ruler of the south of France.
In all these gallant doings Edgar, still attended by the faithful Peter,
took part; and when, only two years after his departure from Wolsingham,
he returned to England, he had seen as many stirring fights as most
knights of twice his age. He never went to the wars again, for he soon
became fast anchored to one whom he had learned to love in the stirring
events that centred round the grim Castle of Ruthenes.
PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN
_At the Villafield Press, Glasgow, Scotland_