"Well, we will go a-hawking that way this afternoon, and thou shalt come
with us to show us this terrible scene--perchance we may find trace of
thy strange caitiffs. Thou must even don thy best, for thy fair
kinswoman, the Mistress Yolande, is to be of our company."
Ralph would have given worlds not to have coloured up as he did, but he
was never master of himself when that fair lady's name was mentioned.
"We shall be a large band; I would that Bowerman could be of it, but I
hear his hurt needs care; it is parlous near his eye, and was a
marvellous narrow chance."
As Ralph left the room he could have danced with joy at the delightful
prospect before him. He went out to direct Humphrey to get his horse
well groomed, and have his smartest attire put out for him, and, brimful
of happiness, was returning to the room where the studies were still
going on. As he passed the chapel door he found a concourse of men
standing round it. Pushing in among them, he saw a parchment affixed to
the door, and two shields of arms hanging up. His heart leaped within
him. It was the public announcement of the tilt or joust.
Not many of the bystanders could read, and the two or three who were
laboriously spelling out the words for the benefit of the rest, were
bidden to stand aside to let Ralph read it aloud. Pleased to be able to
make use of his superior advantages, Ralph read out, in a loud voice,
the long and wordy cartel or general challenge, which was the formal way
of announcing a tilt, joust, or tourney. After reciting the names and
degree of the challengers, or appellants, which took up several lines,
the proclamation went on to say that "they were prepared to meet all
comers at a joust, to run in jousting harness along a tilt, and that
they do this, not out of presumption, but only for the laud and honour
of the feast"--it was to take place on St Michael and All Angels'
Day--"for the pleasure of the ladies, and their own learning and
exercise of deeds of arms, and to enserve the ancient laudable customs."
It further went on to declare that "the said worshipful knights, Sir
Alain de Kervignac and Sir Amand de la Roche Guemene, would be at the
tilt-yard of Carisbrooke Castle by eleven of the clock before noon, to
run six courses with any comer ensuing, the comers to choose their own
spears; and if the said six courses be finished before sundown, then
they may be at liberty to begin other six courses. And if any man's
horse faileth before he be disarmed, then his fellow may go on and
finish the course for his companion."
The prizes were a ruby ring and a diamond ring. The cartel was signed by
the Breton knights, and scaled with their signets, and it was
countersigned by "Edward Wydevil, knight, commonly called the Lord
Woodville, Lord and Captain of the Isle of Wight," and sealed with his
coat of arms. It also further set forth that on the second day there
would be a tourney with sword strokes. There were to be eighteen hand
strokes, but no knight was to "foine" or thrust with the sword point, on
pain of instant dismissal from the lists. The strokes were to be given
on foot, and with sword and axes at barriers.
There was a general hum of applause after Ralph had finished.
"Marry, these Frenchman have done full knightly," said one.
"Ay, you may say so! but I would we had more knights," said another.
"There's none now in the island who are skilled in the joust."
"There'll have to be some overrunners[*] asked over," said a third.
[*] The local name for newcomers or "foreigners" from the mainland to
the Isle of Wight.
"If only that right hardy knight Sir George Lisle of Briddlesford, old
Sir William's son, were in these parts now," said the first speaker.
"I never heard tell of him," replied the other.
"Why should you, comrade? 'Tis many years since he's been heard of.
There's some as said he were lately come over with the Lord Lincoln to
Stoke field, and died there in harness, fighting with his face to the
foe, by the side of the Lord Geraldine, Captain Martin Swartz, Sir
Thomas Broughton, and all those lusty Allemaynes who gave us such hard
knocks ere we made them give in. But I were with the Herald when we
searched the field, and never saw him there; and I should have known him
alive or dead anywhere. We were boys together down Briddlesford way."
"Now you've named Sir George Lisle, that minds me," said the second
soldier, "that when King Edward was alive, he was in rare favour with
the king, who gave him in marriage a right lovely lady. But there was
some talk of his lady, how, when he was away in France with old Bear and
Ragged Staff, she went off with some one, I don't rightly remember who."
"Silence, man, an you value your tongue!" said his comrade. "That's a
tale you'd best not call to mind hereabouts," he added significantly.
Ralph, full of the news, was going off to the pages' room, when he
noticed the shields.
"What are they for?" he asked of the old man-at-arms who had just spoken
so pointedly to his more garrulous comrade.
"I' faith, when a knight wants to take up their challenge, he smiteth on
these shields, and his name and lineage are taken down by the clerk or
herald appointed to put in the roll of the tilt the names of those who
come to take their challenge."
Ralph longed to be able to hit that shield.
"Are any who are not knights admitted to the joust?" he asked..
"Sometimes, but very rarely. Howbeit, the judges have the right to let
in whomsoever they choose, provided he be of noble or gentle birth."
This was enough for Ralph. He would leave no stone unturned to obtain
leave to splinter a lance in the approaching jousts. As he thought of
it, the colour came into his face; he pictured himself riding in the
lists, armed _cap-a-pie_, winning the prize under the lovely blue eyes
of the fair Yolande. As he crossed the yard, deep in this delightful
thought, he ran against a man in a monastic dress, who had just entered
by the main gate.
"Certes, my son, thou shouldest give heed to thy steps," said the monk,
as he staggered under the unprovoked assault.
*CHAPTER XI.*
*HOW JOYOUSLY LIFE GOETH.*
The midday meal was spread in the large hall of the Captain's
apartments. Sir William Lisle and his fair daughter had arrived. Gaily
Yolande was chatting in the large, deep, bay window at the upper end of
the hall, amid a group of young men, conspicuous among whom were the
strongly-marked features, bullet head, and broad chest of Sir Amand de
la Roche Guemene. Beside him, but topping him by some inches, although
he was more than ten years his junior, stood the strong, active figure
and boyish, honest face of Ralph Lisle, gazing at Yolande with rapturous
admiration, but saying never a word, listening to all she said, and to
all that was said to her, with simple enjoyment. No thought of selfish
jealousy crossed his mind. All men must admire so lovely a girl--what
harm in that? Did not he admire her too? would not he have willingly
suffered anything for her? would not he be her dog to fetch and carry,
do her slightest wish, be her devoted slave, and ask for nothing more
than to be near her? No greater privilege could he have than to do her
behests. The boy paid her the most absolute homage of his whole soul
and body. It never occurred to him to ask for anything in return. He
did not know he wanted anything more than to be allowed to be always
near her, adore her, minister to her slightest whims. Whatever so
lovely a being did, was sure to be right. To question the acts of so
glorious a beauty, was like doubting divinity. Ralph was under the
glamour of the most potent spell that ever worked on a pure and generous
nature. To give utterly to the object of his worship, was to him the
simplest thing. He would have given his last farthing to help a poor
beggar; what would he not give to her, who was in his eyes the noblest,
loveliest, purest thing in creation? Only would she want anything?
There was the pain. What could he give her that she could need? Had
she not everything?--homage, wealth, youth, beauty?
"And so, my fair cousin, I hear thou hast done right knightly this
forenoon," said Yolande, addressing him at last, for after the first
greeting he had stood aside to let the more vivacious and older Breton
knights pay their respects to his cousin.
As Yolande spoke, she glanced at his large build, powerful chest, and
tall figure, and then she let her eyes drop sideways on the smaller
proportions of the Breton knight who stood beside him. She noticed the
breadth of shoulders, bull neck, and length of arm of this latter, and
thoughtfully said, without paying any attention to what Ralph blurted
out,--
"And so, Sir Amand, you have proclaimed a joust. 'Twas well done of you;
and all we poor damoiselles of the island owe you many thanks. But I
fear me we have no knights now here will do us poor ladies justice.
Alas that my stepbrother is not here!"
"Surely, fair lady, thou wilt let me be thy knight?" said the Breton
gentleman. "I could not have a fairer queen for whom to lay lance in
rest."
"Nay, fair sir, thou surely mockest. I have heard that the damoiselles
of France are the loveliest in the world."
Yolande spoke dreamily; she still glanced sideways at her cousin, and
then at the Breton knight.
"I wonder will the Captain tilt?" she asked absently, toying with a gold
chain round her neck.
"Pardie, mademoiselle, I trust he will do us that honour: but it would
be a marvellous gracious act."
Ralph was yearning to say something to his cousin, but he could not find
the opportunity. While all were chatting gaily, waiting lor the Captain
of the Wight, a varlet came up the hall and spoke a few words to Sir
John Trenchard, who directly afterwards said in a loud voice,--
"The noble Captain is detained by some slight matter. He prayeth you
all to forgive him, and in especial that the fair ladies will grant him
their pardon; and desireth that we tarry no more for dinner. Master
Gamelyn, bring in the covers."
The guests all sat down, and quickly the dishes were brought in. The
Lord Abbot of Quarr was there; the Prior of Carisbrooke Priory, now
belonging to the great Carthusian Monastery of Sheen; and the two
Bailiffs of Newport, and their wives and daughters, who, however, sat at
another table. The Chaplain of the castle said grace, and the dinner
began.
Gracefully the pages handed and carved the dishes, assisted by the
varlets and serving-men; but the absence of the noble host caused a
slight depression.
Yolande, as the lady of highest birth there, was placed next the vacant
chair of the Captain of the Wight, and on her left sat Sir Amand de la
Roche Guemene; while on the other side of the empty chair sat Lady
Trenchard, and on her right the other Breton noble. The remaining
guests were placed, according to their degree, all down the long table.
The conversation turned upon the approaching tilt, and all were loud in
their praises of the public spirit of the two foreigners.
The chief Bailiff of Newport, who sat opposite Sir Alain de Kervignac,
was deploring the sad state of the island, saying how different it was
fifty years ago, when he was a lad.
"Then, my lord, there were ten thousand fencible men, and above thirty
knights and esquires. But within ten years after, the which ten
thousand men were anentised through pestilence and wars, and some voided
because of extortioners, that there were scarce twelve hundred of
fencible men, and knights never one, and esquires no more but Harry
Bruyn, esquire of His Majesty's household, that might labour about
wars."
"Ay, Master Gander, thou sayest truth," said Sir John Trenchard. "But
my Lord of York gave heed somewhat, although he was sorely let and
hindered by reason of the grievous jealousies he was subject to, and
being sent over to Ireland, could never do all he minded to; but we
shall show these noble gentlemen fine sport yet, I'll warrant."
"Certes, Sir John," said the other Bailiff, "you are ever i' the right.
But I mind me how Master John of Newport, who is but lately dead, I
hear, so peeled and oppressed the townsfolk and fencible people of this
island as to cause most part of the better sort to leave the isle. And
then he, being discharged by the Duke of York for his misgovernance,
with others of his sect, took to the sea, and sore threatened and
jeopardised the king's people of the isle, so that there was not fifteen
fencible people left, and no staff of men nor archers. Truly we were in
parlous sad case."
"Marry, Master Farseye, doubtless it was as you say; but we are now full
powerful and well stored. And there are, as you may see, looking round
at this table, and down yonder hall, plenty of stout limbs and brave
hearts that will give a sensible account of themselves and the enemy in
time of need, even as well and manfully as they did in the time of King
Richard the Second, when Sir Hugh Tyrell, that right valiant knight--on
whose soul may God have mercy--cut off the Frenchmen and utterly routed
them, in so much that the lane now called Deadman's Lane, and Neddie's
Hill, were covered with the bodies of the slain."
"Ay, truly, 'twas so; but albeit 'twas a glorious battle, yet our
fathers got not off scathless, for besides that Sir Theobald Russell was
slain in a former attack, thirty-seven years before, Francheville and
Yarmouth were burnt to the ground, and the French retired not afore they
had levied a fine or ransom of 1000 marks, and our fathers had given
pledges that they would submit to the Frenchmen for a whole twelve
months."
"Not so bad as that, Master Farseye: they were only to submit if they
should come over again," said Master Gander.
The Abbot of Quarr was engaged in pleasant converse with a buxom and
jovial dame, the heiress of the old family of the Roucleys, who had come
into the Manor of Brooke by marriage with the last of the Glamorgans,
one of six ladies who inherited the estate from their brother Nicholas
de Glamorgan, Lord of Brooke, the last male heir. This lady was Dame
Joanna Bowerman, who was lately married to the eldest brother of Eustace
Bowerman, and who, ten years afterwards, had the honour of entertaining
King Henry VII. in her house of Brooke.
Ralph determined to have a few minutes' private talk with his kinsman
the Abbot, and as he bent over him to hand him a dish of trout in jelly,
a great luxury, he whispered,--
"An it please you, my Lord Abbot, may I have a word with you anon?"
"Surely, my son; there is naught amiss, I hope?"
"Nay, my lord; 'tis a matter of small import."
At this moment Lord Woodville entered the hall. All rose to do the
Captain of the Wight honour. Craving pardon for his lack of courtesy, he
prayed them to be seated, and then took his seat next Mistress Yolande,
who greeted him with a radiant smile.
"My lord, I am right glad thou hast come. Sir Amand here hath used up
all his pretty conceits, and very nearly his appetite."
"You amaze me, fair lady! Can a French gentleman fail in one or the
other, and with such a theme as thy fair self to discourse of."
"Ay, truly, and with such a banquet as thy noble self hath provided.
But, most puissant Captain, is it true that thou are going to break a
lance in the approaching tilt?"
"Not that I know of, fair lady," said Lord Woodville coldly.
"But thou wilt an thou art asked?" said Yolande, fixing her soft blue
eyes full upon his.
"Marry, fair lady, there are younger knights than me to ride courses for
love of ladies. I am getting past the age for such pastimes."
"Now, nay! a thousand times, nay! Sir Amand, help me to gain our end!"
"Pardie, an so lovely a lady cannot soften the heart of the noble
Captain, how can the prayers of a poor simple knight like me do it?"
said the knight, shrugging his shoulders.
"Well, Sir Captain," said Yolande, "if thou wilt not grant that request,
at least thou wilt not refuse my other prayer. Wilt thou let my cousin
Ralph run a course? I hear he hath done right hardily to-day."
"With right goodwill, fair mistress. I saw how well he bore himself
this forenoon. I had even now minded to make him an esquire of my
body."
Yolande glanced across to look for Ralph, but he was standing close
behind her, and had heard every word. His joy was so great that he
could scarcely fulfil his duties. In his eagerness to have an excuse to
say something to his lovely kinswoman, he picked up the first dish that
came to hand, and, as he bent over her to offer it, he whispered,--
"Thank you, cousin, thank you! 'tis the kindest service you could do
me."
"But, fair kinsman, that is no reason you should offer me 'pasties of
venison roast,' with 'plums in paste,' which I happen to be eating.
'Tis but a poor return for my kindness."
Ralph, much abashed, drew back; not, however, before Dicky Cheke saw his
mistake, who made a hideous face at him, and as he passed dug his
knuckles into his back, saying at the same time,--
"Poor witling! how parlous awkward it is; 'twill never make a good
serving page."
Fortunately for Ralph there was a general move soon afterwards, and the
horses were being brought round to the hall door. In the midst of the
confusion Ralph took the opportunity of going up to the Abbot and
telling him his business.
"What!" said the Abbot, amazed; "and thou calledst that a matter of
small import, quotha?"
Ralph was a bad hand at asking favours--those who give easily usually
are. However, he could not abandon this request.
"My lord," he said, "'tis but to advance me such sums that I may appear
as becometh the ancient house of Lisle. You gave me to my lord, you
would not have me disgrace my name and lineage."
Seeing how earnest the boy was, and how reasonable was his request, the
Abbot began to relent.
"Marry, lad, thou art a brave youth and a good, thou shalt have the
wherewithal to caparison thyself. Go to Master Longstoke, who dwelleth
in Lugley Street, by the sign of the Blue Boar, he will purvey for thee
what thou needest. I will look in upon him as I ride home to-night. He
will then have my warranty."
All things seemed joyous to Ralph to-day. With profusion of thanks he
helped the Abbot of Quarr on to his horse, and then hastened to look
after his cousin; but she was already mounted, and chatting gaily with
the Captain of the Wight and his Breton guests.
When all were mounted the cavalcade rode out through the large gateway.
It was a gay sight to see the long lines of varlets, with the dogs and
falcons, the fair ladies riding amid groups of gentlemen, with hawk on
fist, and riding-whip in hand. The crowd that had collected at the
castle gates greeted each knight and lady as they came out with
freely-expressed remarks; and when the Captain of the Wight appeared
with Yolande Lisle riding by his side, the two Breton knights a little
behind her with her old father, there were loud shouts of applause, and
many complimentary cheers for the noble foreigners who were going to
provide so much amusement.
The cavalcade took the way down to Shide Bridge and so up the valley of
the Medina, intending to fly their hawks at the quarry that was sure to
be met with among the low lands between the Medina and the Yare.
They were not disappointed; a fine heron was soon started, and the
Captain's bird--a noble peregrine falcon--was cast off after it. As
Lord Woodville watched the flight of his bird, he called Ralph up to
him, who, as in duty bound, had been in close attendance on his person.
"Thy missive hath been found, my child," said his lord gravely. "Thou
didst not dream: I would that thou hadst."
Ralph remained silent. Lord Woodville went on, in rather an abstracted
tone,--
"'Twas a bold game, and I marvel how he hath gotten into the island; but
he knoweth he is safe from me, except in so far as I myself may chastise
him for his insolence. He hath done me far more wrong than ever he
thinketh that I have done to him."
The rest of the cavalcade, now that the Captain's bird had been flown,
had dispersed after their own hawks, which only waited for this signal
to be cast off.
"My lord, thy falcon hath gotten a long way ahead, and maketh toward the
high land yonder," said Ralph, who saw his cousin cantering gaily ahead,
escorted as usual by her faithful admirer the Breton knight. Before
disappearing over a rise in the land she reined up, turned round to Lord
Woodville, and waved her whip aloft, inviting them to follow.
"There is Mistress Lisle beckoning to thee, my lord," said Ralph.
"Marry, is she? then we will even follow, Master Lisle, if it pleaseth
thee," said the Captain, with a smile.
As they cantered over the marshy land, followed by a few varlets on
foot, whose business it was to carry fresh birds on a wooden framework
suspended round their necks by straps, Ralph kept close behind the
Captain. When they reached the top of the rising ground where they had
last seen the graceful figure of Mistress Yolande, a strange sight met
their eyes. The Breton knight's horse was sunk over its fetlocks in a
quagmire, and its rider was in an almost kneeling position on its back,
with the evident desire of getting as far away from the treacherous
slime as possible.
"I told him not to go," said Yolande, laughing at the sad plight of the
poor gentleman.
The attendant varlets were directed to assist the knight out of his
difficulties, while Yolande rode off with the Lord Woodville and Ralph,
who was delighted at the change.
As they rode rapidly across the lower ground towards Godshill, the page
told with eager joy to his cousin how the Abbot of Quarr had promised to
equip him gallantly, and he entered into all the details of the horse he
would buy, the armour, and the device he would wear upon his shield.
"You must have a lady's favour, Ralph. Is there anyone you would like?"
asked Yolande, smiling at him.