MY RELEASE
I awaited with something like resignation the hour of my removal from
La Broyes to Bernicles; but day after day passed, and I still occupied
the chamber in which I had been left when Philip of Valois and John of
Hainault took their departure. At length I was visited a second time by
the governor of the fortress, and, on looking up, perceived that his
air and aspect were much more friendly than on the former occasion.
"Young gentleman," began he, advancing, "it grieves me that I have
treated you with a neglect of which I should not have been guilty had I
known that I was so deeply your debtor."
"Sir," said I, much surprised, "I am not aware at this moment in what
way I have been of service to you."
"Ah," replied the governor, "though you knew it not, the ladies of
Poix are my near kinswomen; and I would fain show what kindness is in
my power to one who, at great hazard to himself, saved them from the
violence of a brutal soldiery."
"Sir," said I, bowing low, "I pray you to accept my thanks for your
courteous compliment; nathless, I have yet to learn that the soldiers
of England are more brutal than other soldiers would be under the like
circumstances. For the rest, I did no more than a youth apprenticed to
chivalry is bound to do on such occasions."
"Well," continued the governor, "we will not dispute on either point.
My business with you is simple. I believe that, of all evils in this
life, an Englishman regards captivity with most horror. Is it not so?"
"Doubtless," replied I, reflecting, "to men of a nation whose passion
has ever been freedom, the idea of being confined to a narrow space,
and within four walls, is the reverse of grateful."
"And you would do something for liberty?" suggested he.
"Certes," replied I quickly; "anything in reason and honour."
"In neither respect should I ask you to offend your conscience," said
the governor frankly. "Now listen."
"I am all attention."
"I hold letters of great moment, written by the Lady Joan, Countess
of Hainault, to her daughter, Philippa, Queen of England. On them may
depend fifty thousand lives, and it is of the last moment that they
should be speedily and safely conveyed to her hands. Are you willing
to do an errand which, if it result as I would fain hope, will be the
means of putting an end to a sanguinary war, and bringing about an
honourable peace?"
"Assuredly," answered I, "I see no reason why I should refuse to be the
bearer of letters from the Countess of Hainault to my lady the queen."
"In that case," said the governor, "there is no reason why, in
twenty-four hours, you should not be on the sea, and tilting over the
waves towards England. The condition which I make in setting you at
liberty is so slight that I hardly deem it can interfere with your
doing our errand. And, mark me, I make the condition light because I
fear not to trust you, for where there is so much chivalry there must
be much truth."
"Name the condition," said I.
"It is simply this--that you give your promise not to bear arms against
the King of France for a year and a day."
I hesitated.
"What, youth!" exclaimed the governor, "do you hesitate?"
"Yes, by St. George! I do; for I know not whether I can, with honour,
make such a promise."
"Tush, youth," said the governor, "you are over-scrupulous. Think of
William Montacute, the great Earl of Salisbury, and one of your king's
foremost barons. He was long a prisoner in the Châtelet, in Paris;
and you may have heard of Salisbury's captivity. While he lay in the
Châtelet, his countess, whom Englishmen called Katherine the Fair, had
the misfortune to bewitch the King of England by her beauty, but with
no will of her own."
"The countess," said I, "was chaste as the snow on the top of Cheviot."
"But, however that may have been," continued the governor--"and I
question it not--it was at length agreed that Salisbury should be
exchanged for the Earl of Moray, on condition of taking an oath never
again to serve against France; and such an oath he took."
"Well," said I, after a pause, "my lord of Salisbury was a puissant
earl, and I am a nameless page; and, though naught should, or ought to,
tempt me to do what my conscience disapproved, merely because it had
been done by a great lord; yet, seeing not how it can be inconsistent
with my honour to accept your terms, such as they are, and to do your
errand, such as you describe it, I cannot but deem that, in accepting
your terms and promising to do your errand, I am acting rightly."
"Credit me, you are acting rightly," said the governor.
Next morning I was mounted soon after sunrise, and, with the Countess
of Hainault's epistles to Queen Philippa in my custody, I was, under
the protection of an escort of horse, riding towards the seaside to
embark in a ship that lay at anchor, and ready to sail for the English
coast.