THE FALSE AND PERJURED KNIGHT.
As the band of knights and their retainers issued from the gate a
trumpeter blew a parley, and the three knights advanced alone toward the
group of archers.
"Sir Cuthbert de Lance," Sir Hubert said, "in the name of myself and my
two friends here we ask your pardon for having so far taken part in this
foul action. We did so believing only that Sir Rudolph intended the
capture of your lady mother as a threat. Now that we see he was in
earnest, we wash our hands of the business; and could we in any way
atone for our conduct in having joined him, we would gladly do so
consistently only with our allegiance to the prince regent."
Cuthbert bowed courteously.
"Thanks for your words, Sir Hubert. I had always heard yourself and the
knights here spoken of as brave and gallant gentlemen, whose sole fault
was that they chose to take part with a rebel prince rather than with
the King of England. I rejoice that you have cleared your name of so
foul a blot as this would have placed upon it, and I acknowledge that
your conduct now is knightly and courteous. But I can no more parley.
The sun is within a few minutes of twelve, and I must surrender, to meet
such fate as may befall me."
So saying, with a bow he left them, and again advanced to the castle
gate.
"Sir Rudolph," he shouted, "the hour is at hand. I call upon you to
deliver, outside the gate, the lady, my mother. Whether she wills it or
not, I call upon you to place her beyond the gate, and I give you my
knightly word that as she leaves it I enter it."
Dame Editha would then have attempted resistance; but she saw that it
would be useless. With a pale face she descended the steps, accompanied
by the men-at-arms. She knew that any entreaty to Sir Rudolph would be
vain, and with the courage of her race she mentally vowed to devote the
rest of her life to vengeance for her son.
As the gate opened and she was thrust forth, for a moment she found
herself in the arms of her son.
"Courage, mother!" he whispered; "all may yet be well."
Cnut was waiting a few paces behind, and offering his hand to Dame
Editha, he led her to the group of archers, while Cuthbert, alone,
crossed the drawbridge and entered the portal, the heavy portcullis
falling after him.
Cnut, immediately ordering four of his men to escort Dame Editha to the
wood with all speed, advanced with his men toward the walls. All had
strung their bows and placed their arrows on the ground in front of them
in readiness for instant use. Cnut himself, with two others carrying the
rope, advanced to the edge of the moat. None observed their doings, for
all within the castle were intent upon the proceedings there.
In the courtyard Sir Rudolph had taken his post, with the captain of the
mercenaries beside him, and the men-at-arms drawn up in order. He smiled
sardonically as Cuthbert entered.
"So, at last," he said, "this farce is drawing to an end. You are in my
power, and for the means which I have taken to capture you, I will
account to the prince. You are a traitor to him; you have attacked and
slaughtered many of my friends; you are an outlaw defying the law; and
for each of these offenses your head is forfeited."
"I deny," Cuthbert said, standing before him, "your right to be my
judge. By my peers only can I be tried. As a knight of England and as
rightful lord of this castle, I demand to be brought before a jury of my
equals."
"I care nothing for rights or for juries," said Sir Rudolph. "I have the
royal order for your execution, and that order I shall put into effect,
although all the knights and barons in England objected."
Cuthbert looked round to observe the exact position in which he was
standing. He knew, of course, every foot of the castle, and saw that but
a short distance behind a single row of armed men was the staircase
leading to the battlements.
"False and perjured knight," he said, taking a step forward, "I may die;
but I would rather a thousand deaths than such a life as yours will be
when this deed is known in England. But I am not yet dead. For myself, I
could pardon you; but for the outrage to my mother--" and with a sudden
movement he struck Sir Rudolph in the face with all his strength with
his mailed hand.
With the blood gushing from his nostrils, the knight fell backward, and
Sir Cuthbert, with a bound, before the assembly could recover from their
astonishment at the deed, burst through the line of men-at-arms, and
sprang up the narrow staircase. A score of men-at-arms started in
pursuit; but Sir Cuthbert gained the battlements first, and without a
moment's hesitation sprang upon them and plunged forward, falling into
the moat fifty feet below. Here he would have perished miserably, for in
his heavy armor he was of course unable to swim a stroke, and his
weight took him at once into the mud of the moat. At its margin,
however, Cnut stood awaiting him, with one end of the rope in his hand.
In an instant he plunged in, and diving to the bottom grasped Cuthbert
by the body, and twisted the rope round him. The two archers on the bank
at once hauled upon it, and in a minute Sir Cuthbert was dragged to the
bank.
By this time a crowd of men-at-arms appeared upon the battlements. But
as they did so the archers opened a storm of arrows upon them, and
quickly compelled them to find shelter. Carried by Cnut and the men with
him--for he was insensible--Sir Cuthbert was quickly conveyed to the
center of the outlaws, and these at once in a compact body began their
retreat to the wood. Cuthbert quickly recovered consciousness, and was
soon able to walk. As he did so the gates of the castle were thrown
open, and a crowd of men-at-arms, consisting of the retainers of the
castle and the mercenaries of Prince John, sallied forth. So soon as
Cuthbert was able to move the archers started at a brisk run, several of
them carrying Cuthbert's casque and sword, and others assisting him to
hurry along. The rear ranks turned as they ran and discharged flights of
arrows at the enemy, who, more heavily armed and weighted, gained but
slowly upon them.
Had not Sir Rudolph been stunned by the blow dealt him by Cuthbert he
would himself have headed the pursuit, and in that case the foresters
would have had to fight hard to make their retreat to their fastness.
The officer in command of the mercenaries, however, had no great stomach
for the matter. Men were hard to get, and Prince John would not have
been pleased to hear that a number of the men whom he had brought with
such expense from foreign parts had been killed in a petty fray.
Therefore after following for a short time he called them off, and the
archers fell back into the forest.
Here they found Dame Editha, and for three days she abode among them,
living in a small hut in the center of the forest. Then she left, to
take up her abode until the troubles were past with some kin who lived
in the south of Gloucestershire.
Although the lady abbess had assured Cuthbert that the retreat of Lady
Margaret was not likely to be found out, he himself, knowing how great a
stake Sir Rudolph had in the matter, was still far from being easy. It
would not be difficult for the latter to learn through his agents that
the lady superior of the little convent near Hereford was of kin to her
of St. Anne's, and, close as a convent is, yet the gossiping of the
servants who go to market was certain to let out an affair so important
as the arrival of a young lady to reside under the charge of the
superior. Cuthbert was not mistaken as to the acuteness of his enemy.
The relationship between the two lady superiors was no secret, and after
having searched all the farmhouses and granges near the forest, and
being convinced that the lady abbess would have sent her charge rather
to a religious house than to that of a franklin, Sir Rudolph sought
which of those within the circuit of a few miles would be likely to be
the one selected. It was not long before he was enabled to fix upon that
near Hereford, and spies going to the spot soon found out from the
country people that it was a matter of talk that a young lady of rank
had been admitted by the superior. Sir Rudolph hesitated whether to go
himself at the head of a strong body of men and openly to take her, or
to employ some sort of device. It was not that he himself feared the
anathema of the church; but he knew Prince John to be weak and
vacillating, at one time ready to defy the thunder of the pope, the next
cringing before the spiritual authority. He therefore determined to
employ some of his men to burst into the convent and carry off the
heiress, arranging that he himself, with some of his men-at-arms, should
come upon them in the road, and make a feigned rescue of her, so that,
if the lady superior laid her complaint before the pope's legate he
could deny that he had any hand in the matter, and could even take
credit for having rescued her from the men who had profaned the convent.
That his story would be believed mattered but little. It would be
impossible to prove its falsity, and this was all that he cared for.
This course was followed out. Late one evening the lady superior was
alarmed by a violent knocking at the door. In reply to questions asked
through the grill, the answer was given, "We are men of the forest, and
we are come to carry the Lady Margaret of Evesham off to a secure
hiding-place. The Lord of Evesham has discovered her whereabouts, and
will be here shortly, and we would fain remove her before he arrives."
"From whom have you warrant?" the lady superior said. "I surrender her
to no one, save to the lady abbess of St. Anne's. But if you have a
written warrant from Sir Cuthbert, the rightful Lord of Evesham, I will
lay the matter before the Lady Margaret, and will act as it may seem fit
to her."
"We have no time for parleying," a rough voice said. "Throw open the
gate at once, or we will break it down."
"Ye be no outlaws," the lady superior said, "for the outlaws are men who
fear God and respect the church. Were ye what ye say, ye would be
provided with the warrants that I mention. I warn you, therefore, that
if you use force, you will be excommunicated, and placed under the ban
of the church."
The only answer was a thundering assault upon the gate, which soon
yielded to the blows. The sisters and novices ran shrieking through the
corridors at this rude uproar. The lady superior, however, stood calmly
awaiting the giving way of the gate.
"Where is the Lady Margaret?" the leader of the party, who were dressed
in rough garb, and had the seeming of a band of outlaws, demanded.
"I will say nothing," she said, "nor do I own that she is here."
"We will soon take means to find out," the man exclaimed. "Unless in
five minutes she is delivered to us, we will burn your place to the
ground."
The lady abbess was insensible to the threat; but the men rushing in,
seized some sisters, who, terrified out of their wits by this irruption,
at once gave the information demanded, and the men made their way to the
cell where the Lady Margaret slept.
The girl had at once risen when the tumult commenced, doubting not in
her mind that this was another attempt upon the part of her enemy to
carry her off. When, therefore, she heard heavy footsteps approaching
along the gallery--having already hastily attired herself--she opened
the door and presented herself.
"If you seek the Lady Margaret of Evesham," she said calmly, "I am she.
Do not harm any of the sisters here. I am in your power, and will go
with you at once. But I beseech you add not to your other sins that of
violence against holy women."
The men, abashed by the calm dignity of this young girl, abstained from
laying hands upon her, but merely motioned to her to accompany them.
Upon their way they met the man who appeared to be their leader, and he,
well pleased that the affair was over, led the way to the courtyard.
"Farewell, my child," the abbess exclaimed. "God will deliver you from
the power of these wicked men. Trust in Him, and keep up your courage.
Wickedness will not be permitted to triumph upon the earth; and be
assured that the matter shall be brought to the ears of the pope's
legate, and of Prince John himself."
She could say no more, for the men, closing round the weeping girl,
hurried her out from the convent. A litter awaited them without, and in
this the young lady was placed, and, borne upon the shoulders of four
stout men, she started at a fast pace, surrounded closely by the rest of
the band.
It was a dark night, and the girl could not see the direction in which
she was being taken; but she judged from the turn taken upon leaving the
convent that it was toward Evesham. They had proceeded some miles, when
a trampling of horses was heard, and a body of armed men rode up. For a
moment Lady Margaret's heart gave a leap, for she thought that she had
been rescued by her friends. There was a loud and angry altercation, a
clashing of swords, and a sound of shouting and cries outside the
litter. Then it was placed roughly on the ground, and she heard the
sound of the footsteps of her first captors hurrying away. Then the
horsemen closed round the litter, and the leader dismounted.
"I am happy indeed, Lady Margaret," he said, approaching the litter, "to
have been able to save you from the power of these villains.
Fortunately, word came to me that the outlaws in the forest were about
to carry you off, and that they would not hesitate even to desecrate the
walls of the convent. Assembling my men-at-arms, I at once rode to your
rescue, and am doubly happy to have saved you, first, as a gentleman,
secondly, as being the man to whom our gracious prince has assigned you
as a wife. I am Sir Rudolph, Earl of Evesham."
As from the first the girl had been convinced that she had fallen into
the power of her lawless suitor, this came upon her as no surprise.
"Whether your story is true, Sir Rudolph," she said, "or not, God knows,
and I, a poor weak girl, will not pretend to venture to say. It is
between you and your conscience. If, as you say, you have saved me from
the power of the outlaws, I demand that, as a knight and a gentleman,
you return with me at once to the convent from which I was taken by
force."
"I cannot do that," Sir Rudolph said. "Fortune has placed you in my
hands, and has enabled me to carry out the commands of the prince.
Therefore, though I would fain yield to your wishes and so earn your
good-will, which above all things I wish to obtain, yet my duty toward
the prince commands me to utilize the advantage which fate has thrown in
my hands."
"You must do as you will, Sir Rudolph," the girl said with dignity. "I
believe not your tale. You sought before, in person, to carry me off,
but failed, and you have now employed other means to do so. The tale of
your conduct to Dame Editha has reached my ears, and I hold you a
foresworn knight and a dishonored man, and as such I would rather die
than become your wife, although as yet I am but a child, and have no
need to talk of weddings for years to come."
"We need not parley here," the knight said coldly. "We shall have plenty
of time when at my castle."
The litter was now lifted, placed between two horses, and proceeded
rapidly on its journey. Although the hope was but faint, yet until the
gates of the castle closed upon them the Lady Margaret still hoped that
rescue might reach her. But the secret had been too well kept, and it
was not until the following day that the man who had been placed in a
cottage near the convent arrived in all haste in the forest, to say that
it was only in the morning that he had learned that the convent had been
broken open by men disguised as archers, and the Lady Margaret carried
off.
Four days elapsed before Sir Rudolph presented himself before the girl
he had captured. So fearfully was his face bruised and disfigured by the
blow from the mailed hand of Cuthbert three weeks before, that he did
not wish to appear before her under such unfavorable circumstances, and
the captive passed the day gazing from her casement in one of the rooms
in the upper part of the keep, toward the forest whence she hoped rescue
would come.
Within the forest hot discussions were going on as to the best course to
pursue. An open attack was out of the question, especially as upon the
day following the arrival there of Lady Margaret three hundred more
mercenaries had marched in from Worcester, so that the garrison was now
raised to five hundred men.
"Is there no way," Cnut exclaimed furiously, "by which we might creep
into this den, since we cannot burst into it openly?"
"There is a way from the castle," Cuthbert said, "for my dear lord told
me of it one day when we were riding together in the Holy Land. He said
then that it might be that he should never return, and that it were well
that I should know of the existence of this passage, which few besides
the earl himself knew of. It is approached by a very heavy slab of stone
in the great hall. This is bolted down, and as it stands under the great
table passes unnoticed, and appears part of the ordinary floor. He told
me the method in which, by touching a spring, the bolts were withdrawn
and the stone could be raised. Thence a passage a quarter of a mile
long leads to the little chapel standing in the hollow, and which, being
hidden among the trees, would be unobserved by any party besieging the
castle. This of course was contrived in order that the garrison, or any
messenger thereof, might make an exit in case of siege."
"But if we could escape," Cnut asked, "why not enter by this way?"
"The stone is of immense weight and strength," Cuthbert replied, "and
could not be loosed from below save with great labor and noise. There
are, moreover, several massive doors in the passage, all of which are
secured by heavy bolts within. It is therefore out of the question that
we could enter the castle by that way. But were we once in, we could
easily carry off the lady through this passage."
The large force which Sir Rudolph had collected was not intended merely
for the defense of the castle, for the knight considered that with his
own garrison he could hold it against a force tenfold that which his
rival could collect. But he was determined if possible to crush out the
outlaws of the forest, for he felt that so long as this formidable body
remained under an enterprising leader like Sir Cuthbert, he would never
be safe for a moment, and would be a prisoner in his own castle.
Cuthbert had foreseen that the attack was likely to be made, and had
strengthened his band to the utmost. He felt, however, that against so
large a force of regularly armed men, although he might oppose a stout
resistance and kill many, yet that in the end he must be conquered.
Cnut, however, suggested to him a happy idea, which he eagerly grasped.
"It would be a rare sport," Cnut said, "when this armed force comes out
to attack us, if we could turn the tables by slipping in, and taking
their castle."
"The very thing," Cuthbert exclaimed. "It is likely that he will use the
greater portion of his forces, and that he will not keep above fifty or
sixty men, at the outside, in the castle. When they sally out we will at
first oppose a stout resistance to them in the wood, gradually falling
back. Then, at a given signal, all save twenty men shall retire hastily,
and sweeping round make for the castle. Their absence will not be
noticed, for in this thick wood it is difficult to tell whether twenty
men or two hundred are opposing you among the bushes; and the twenty who
remain must shoot thick and fast to make believe that their numbers are
great, retiring sometimes, and leading the enemy on into the heart of
the wood."
"But supposing, Sir Cuthbert, that they should have closed the gates and
lifted the drawbridge? We could not gain entrance by storming, even if
only twenty men held the walls, until long after the main body would
have returned."
Cuthbert thought for some time, and then said, "Cnut, you shall
undertake this enterprise. You shall fill a cart high with faggots, and
in it shall conceal a dozen of your best men. You, dressed as a serf,
shall drive the oxen, and when you reach the castle shall say, in answer
to the hail of the sentry, that you are bringing in the tribute of wood
of your master the franklin of Hopeburn. They will then lower the
drawbridge and open the gates; and when you have crossed the bridge and
are under the portcullis, spring out suddenly, cut loose the oxen so
that they will not draw the cart further in, cut the chains of the
drawbridge so that it cannot be drawn off, and hold the gate for a
minute or two until we arrive."
"The plan is capital," Cnut exclaimed. "We will do the proud Norman yet.
How he will storm when he finds us masters of his castle! What then
will you do, Sir Cuthbert?"
"We can hold the castle for weeks," Cuthbert said, "and every day is in
our favor. If we find ourselves forced to yield to superior numbers, we
can at last retire through the passage I have spoken of, and must then
scatter and each shift for himself until these bad days be past."