HOW GEOFFREY LYSLE CROSSED THE CHANNEL
Sir Thomas Carberry was as good as his word. He rode over to Warblington
betimes on the following morning, where he was welcomed by the
châtelaine and her assembled household.
Being a man of action, the knight lost no time in dealing with the
matter that had brought him thither.
"I can well understand Sir Oliver's wishes in this matter," he remarked.
"Since he will not have a ransom paid on his behalf, and on the other
hand the Tyrant of Malevereux doth threaten him with death should the
gold not be forthcoming, it is certain that we are in a strait. Thou
sayest that the garrison of Taillemartel is not strong enough to assail
the baron's stronghold? Then some other plan must be considered.
Methinks the great thing is to gain time with this recreant Lord of
Malevereux. To that end it would be well to reply guardedly to his
letter."
"But not to promise payment of the ransom?"
"Not in plain words. Write that ere the Feast of Saint Silvester the
demands of the Lord of Malevereux will be met. That need be all; thy
husband's squire can deliver the message, since he hath been promised
safe conduct."
"But will the Tyrant keep to his word concerning the good treatment of
Oswald?" demurred the Lady Bertha. "It is hardly meet that the lad
should be placed in the power of this recreant knight."
"For my part I care but little, fair lady," said Sir Oliver's squire.
"Since my place is with my lord—and 'twas not my doing that I was
compelled to leave him at Malevereux—I'll bear the letter to Sir Yves in
person. Should he think fit to keep his word, well and good; otherwise I
must rest content that I am to be kept in durance with Sir Oliver."
"Well spoken, squire," exclaimed Sir Thomas Carberry. "See to it that
thy actions are as brave as thy speech. Now, there is yet another point.
Who holds the Castle of Taillemartel in Sir Oliver's absence?"
The châtelaine did not reply. Instinctively she realized the motive of
the question.
"Hath my son said aught to thee concerning his wish to go Franceward?"
she asked.
"Fair lady, he hath," replied the knight. "Moreover, 'tis right and meet
that he, as Sir Oliver's son, should hold Taillemartel in his father's
absence. Thrust aside thy feelings as a mother, Lady Bertha, and make a
sacrifice to duty. The lad, from what I know of him—and that is not a
little—hath courage, wisdom, and discretion beyond his years. Let him
have the ordering of Taillemartel, and I'll warrant he'll prove a right
worthy limb of the old Lysle stock."
"And what can be done towards the actual setting free of my husband?"
"Concerning myself, this affair could not have happened at a more
inopportune time. Until I learn King Harry's wishes I am tied to my
Castle of Portchester; otherwise would I right gladly take a troop of
lances, add them to the garrison of Taillemartel, and together they
would have the Castle of Malevereux about its owner's ears in less than
a week. Did Sir Oliver ever mention the name of Sir Raoul d'Aulx,
seigneur of Maissons?"
"I cannot call the name to mind."
"This Sir Raoul is a Burgundian knight, a right worthy gentleman of good
repute. Sir Oliver and I fought side by side with him 'gainst the
Paynims of Barbary, under the late King, when he was but Henry of
Lancaster. Now it is in my mind to write to the Seigneur of Maissons
that he should beleaguer the Castle of Malevereux; knowing that he hath
just cause 'gainst Sir Yves, and that he hath great regard for Sir
Oliver, this request may find favour in Sir Raoul's eyes. To that end
I'll send my squire, Richard Ratclyffe, with thy son and Sir Oliver's
squire, Oswald Steyning. When will Geoffrey be ready for the journey?"
"The _Grâce à Dieu_ lies in the harbour fit to take the sea within an
hour," replied the châtelaine with a sigh, for, although she was
resigned to Sir Thomas Carberry's plan, the thought of parting with her
son seemed well-nigh unbearable.
"Then the sooner the better, since the wind holds fair. I'll send my
squire to thee this night. Now, bear up, fair lady, for by the blessing
of the saints, Sir Oliver will sit at his ease in Warblington Castle ere
the feast of St. Silvester."
So saying Sir Thomas took his leave, while the châtelaine busied herself
with preparations for her son's journey.
That night Geoffrey kept vigil in the little church of St. Thomas à
Becket, vowing to be courageous and honourable in warfare, courteous to
women, and just towards those under his authority, as befitting the son
of a true knight who himself aspired to the gilded spurs. But when he
prayed that he might take vengeance upon the Lord of Malevereux, Father
Hilarius gently reproved him.
"Vengeance, my son, hath no place within the mind of a gentleman of
quality; leave that in the hands of One above, who, if He think fit,
will grind the oppressor between the upper and nether millstones of His
wrath. In thy dealings with thy fellow-men see to it that justice is
ever tempered with mercy."
At length the eventful day dawned. At the head of the rithe lay the
_Grâce à Dieu_, her huge square sail, emblazoned with the arms of the
Lysles, being loosely furled ready to be sheeted home at the
shipmaster's call.
Geoffrey and the two squires, Oswald Steyning and Richard Ratclyffe,
attended by the stout old man-at-arms, Arnold Gripwell, and three trusty
archers, boarded the skiff that was to take them off to the larger
vessel. The hour of parting had come and gone, and with heavy heart Sir
Oliver's son saw the crowd of tenantry on the shore grow less and less
distinct.
But the moment the lads set foot upon the deck of the _Grâce à Dieu_ the
bustle and excitement of setting sail dispelled for the time their
feeling of sadness.
Old Simeon Cross, the master-shipman, was standing by the long tiller,
shouting orders at the seamen to the accompaniment of a string of
expletives uttered in half a dozen different tongues.
"Yarely, now, yarely with the cable! Dick, do you attend to the vang;
Tom, thou rapscallion, haul handsomely on yonder brace. Avast heaving
there! Now she feels it!"
Before the steady north-westerly breeze the _Grâce à Dieu_ bore rapidly
down the Emsworth Channel; the low-lying islands of Thorney and Hayling
were quickly passed, and, after a buffeting on the wind-swept bar, the
staunch vessel was curtseying to the long, heavy swell of the English
Channel.
Ere noon the Sussex Downs were but a low, indistinct line of blue
against the northern sky, while the rounded hills of the Isle of Wight
were fading away on the starboard quarter.
Then, having given the helmsman the course by means of the lodestone
that did duty for a compass, Simeon went below to rest, since he must
needs be on deck throughout the coming night.
"The English shore is well-nigh lost to view," remarked Oswald. "Ere
morning we ought to see the coast of France, an this wind hold."
"Aye, an we are not molested by any of the sea rovers that infest the
Channel," added Gripwell. "Now, young sirs, I'll wager that old Simeon
will descry the French coast ere either of your young eyes can do so."
"I have heard it said that a shipmaster's vision is better by far than a
landsman's," replied Richard Ratclyffe. "Yet I call to mind a device
that my master, Sir Thomas, purchased from a monk of Limoges. It was but
a tube of wood filled with sundry pieces of glass, yet one could
distinguish a man's features a league away."
"By St. George, Master Ratclyffe," exclaimed Gripwell, "thou art trying
to befool us, saving thy presence. See a man's face a league off,
forsooth! Certes, next thou'lt say that it is possible for a person in
England to clap a trumpet to his mouth and speak to another in France.
Go to, Master Ratclyffe, Arnold Gripwell is not to be caught by such
reports."
"Yet such is the truth, Gripwell," replied the squire.
"When I see it I'll believe it," retorted the man-at-arms sturdily.
Ere nightfall the wind dropped, and the _Grâce à Dieu_ floundered
sluggishly in the long rolling swell. Under the influence of this
unaccustomed motion Richard Ratclyffe was the first to succumb to the
woeful malady of sea-sickness. Geoffrey was soon in like case. The
others, having crossed the sea beforetimes, were more hardened to its
usages.
"Go below and lie down awhile," counselled Arnold Gripwell. "Ere ye wake
the evil will have left you."
"I would there were some other way of crossing to France," said Geoffrey
miserably.
"'Tis part of the game, and must be borne with a good heart," replied
Gripwell. "This is the only way, and ever will be the only way, as far
as I can see, unless men devise a means of flying thither through the
air. How think ye, Master Ratclyffe," he added slyly, but the squire was
beyond the sting of banter.
Lulled by the motion of the vessel, Geoffrey sank into a deep yet
troubled slumber, nor did he awake till he was aroused by the
man-at-arms shaking him by the shoulder.
"Up with ye, Master Geoffrey," he exclaimed. "There's foul work without,
and if so be we can play our part every man jack will be wanted."
"What's amiss?" asked the lad, sitting up. All feelings of sea-sickness
had left him; excitement had conquered the landsman's arch-enemy.
"On deck, and thou'lt see," replied Gripwell curtly as he hastened to
rouse the other lads.
It was a strange sight that greeted Geoffrey Lysle as he gained the
deck. Day had just broken, and the pale grey light revealed the presence
of two ships lying a mile or so to leeward of the _Grâce à Dieu_.
One, a tall wall-sided ship, was striving to keep at bay a long,
low-lying galley, from which showers of arrows, quarrels, stones, and
spears were being hurled by the crowd of men who thronged her low
fo'c'sle and towering poop.
"What are we to do, good Master Gripwell?" asked Simeon, the shipmaster,
anxiously. "Yonder lies the ship _Brothers of Lymington_. I know her
well. She is a stout merchantman, but slow; though, by St. Peter, the
_Grâce à Dieu_ could scarce gain a bow-shot length on her in an hour.
The galley, if mine eyes do not deceive me, belongs to the Republic of
Genoa, and scant mercy shall we receive at her hands. What are we to
do?"
"Do?" exclaimed Gripwell in high disdain. "Why, Simeon, trick her. If we
flee we are lost, since she can sail two yards to our one. Art willing
to leave this matter in my hands?"
"Ay, good Arnold," replied the shipmaster nervously.
"Then, do you steer straight for yonder ships. Ho there, Wat! Bring
forth every spear and every steel cap that is in the ship. Thomas of
Gosport, do you wind your horn and blow a rousing blast. The rest of
you, shipmen and archers all, don steel caps and stand fast in the waist
till I give ye word."
So saying, Gripwell left the deck and went below. Meanwhile Geoffrey and
his two comrades were struggling into their plates and steel casques,
knowing that there was hot work afoot, yet wondering what the
man-at-arms was about.
Presently Gripwell re-appeared, bearing six large shields of painted
canvas, emblazoned with the arms of the principal knights of Hampshire.
"Now ye be each two knights," he shouted light-heartedly. "Sixteen years
ago come Martinmas these devices hung in the great hall of Warblington
when Sir Oliver was wed. Ever since that day have I kept them. Whenever
I journey by water they go with me. Now, Sir Geoffrey, take thy place on
the poop with Sir Oswald; Sir Richard, the waist is under thy charge. I
am for the fo'c'sle."
So saying the man-at-arms proceeded to hang the shields over the ship's
sides, according to the custom when knights adventured themselves on the
high seas. Every man had donned a steel cap, and was grasping two and
sometimes three lances, so that the rays of the rising sun glittered
upon a small forest of steel.
"Turn her aside, I pray thee, Simeon, and let yonder rogues see our
knights' shields," ordered Gripwell, and obediently the master-shipman
thrust the helm hard over so that the _Grâce à Dieu_ exposed the whole
of her broadside to the two antagonists.
"Now, wind thy horn once more, Thomas," he continued as the ship resumed
her course straight for the Genoese galley. "Heaven help us if they see
through the trick," he added in an undertone.
The Lymington ship, taking heart at the prospect of a rescue, redoubled
her fire of arrows and stones, but withal the galley stuck doggedly to
her prey. Nearer and nearer came the _Grâce à Dieu_, the lead-coloured
water hissing from her bluff bows as her huge sail caught the rising
breeze.
"We must fight them," quoth Oswald, "unless they give way. If we are to
die 'tis better to fall in the heat of the fight than to have our
throats cut in cold blood, for yon rascals give quarter to none—not even
a gentleman of coat-armour."
"Give the Lymington men a rousing cheer, lads," shouted Gripwell. "Then
stand to your arms and fight as you have never done before. Now,
together!"
From five-and-twenty lusty throats a hoarse shout ascended in a roar of
defiance.
This was too much for the Genoese. Thinking they had a shipload of
valiant knights and their followers to reckon with, they sheered off,
the huge sail was run up, and fifty oars splashed in the water. Once on
the move the galley did not stop till it was a mere dot on the skyline.
"A wax candle as thick as my arm shall burn on the altar of the Church
of St. Thomas à Becket at Warblington for this great deliverance,"
exclaimed the master-shipman fervently. "I' faith, methought I had lost
both ship and life when the rogues held on."
"Bear up, that we may have speech with the _Brothers of Lymington_,"
said Gripwell. "Seeing that she sails but a trifle slower than the
_Grâce à Dieu_ it would be fitting that both sailed in company."
As the _Grâce à Dieu_ drew up close alongside the succoured merchant
ship the bellowing voice of the shipmaster of the _Brothers_ was heard
thanking these gentle and courteous knights for their timely aid.
"And though I be little skilled in reading the devices of gentlemen of
coat-armour," added a voice, "I do perceive that the shield of my Lord
Bishop of Winchester is displayed. Bear my humble respects to his Grace,
and say that out of gratitude, I, Paul Roche, of the honourable company
of Goldsmiths of the free borough of Southampton, do hereby promise a
bar of virgin gold to the service of the Dean and Chapter of the See of
Winchester."
"Better by far give the gold to me, Master Roche," replied Gripwell with
a hearty laugh, and to the astonishment of the passengers and crew of
the _Brothers_ the story of the ruse was unfolded.
The proposal that the two ships should complete the voyage in company
was quickly accepted, and keeping a bow-shot apart the _Grâce à Dieu_
and the _Brothers_ headed for the French coast.
Six hours later both vessels passed between the twin towers that guarded
the entrance to the port of Harfleur, the principal harbour of Normandy,
and Geoffrey had set foot upon French soil.