MALISE FETCHES A CLOUT
The four men whom the Messire Gilles, by good fortune, failed to see
standing in the doorway opposite the Hotel de Pornic were attired in
the habit of pilgrims to the shrine of Saint James of Compostella.
Upon their heads they wore broad corded hats of brown. Long brown
robes covered them from head to foot. Their heads were tonsured, and
as they went along they fumbled at their beads and gave their
benediction to the people that passed by, whether they returned them
an alms or not. This they did by spreading abroad the fingers of both
hands and inclining their heads, at the same time muttering to
themselves in a tongue which, if not Latin, was at least equally
unknown to the good folk of Paris.
"It is the house," said the tallest of the four, "stand well back
within the shade!"
"Nay, Sholto, what need?" grumbled another, a very thickset palmer he;
"if the maids be within, let us burst the gates, and go and take them
out!"
"Be silent, Malise," put in the third pilgrim, whose dress of richer
stuff than that of his companions, added to an air of natural command,
betrayed the man of superior rank, "remember, great jolterhead, that
we are not at the gates of Edinburgh with all the south country at our
backs."
The fourth, a slender youth and fresh of countenance, stood somewhat
behind the first three, without speaking, and wore an air of profound
meditation and abstraction.
It is not difficult to identify three out of the four. Sholto's quest
for his sweetheart was a thing fixed and settled. That his father and
his brother Laurence should accompany him was also to be expected. But
the other and more richly attired was somewhat less easy to be
certified. The Lord James of Douglas it was, who spoke French with the
idiomatic use and easy accentuation of a native, albeit of those
central provinces which had longest owned the sway of the King of
France. The brothers MacKim also spoke the language of the country
after a fashion. For many Frenchmen had come over to Galloway in the
trains of the first two Dukes of Touraine, so that the Gallic speech
was a common accomplishment among the youths who sighed to adventure
where so many poor Scots had won fortune, in the armies of the Kings
of France.
Indeed, throughout the centuries Paris cannot be other than Paris. And
Paris was more than ever Paris in the reign of Charles the Seventh.
Her populace, gay, fickle, brave, had just cast off the yoke of the
English, and were now venting their freedom from stern Saxon policing
according to their own fashion. Not the King of France, but the Lord
of Misrule held the sceptre in the capital.
It was not long therefore before a band of rufflers swung round a
corner arm-in-arm, taking the whole breadth of the narrow causeway
with them as they came. It chanced that their leader espied the four
Scots standing in the wide doorway of the house opposite the Hotel de
Pornic.
"Hey, game lads," he cried, in that roistering shriek which then
passed for dashing hardihood among the youth of Paris, "here be some
holy men, pilgrims to the shrine of Saint Denis, I warrant. I, too, am
a clerk of a sort, for Henriet tonsured me on Wednesday sennight. Let
us see if these men of good works carry any of the deceitful vanities
of earth about with them in their purses. Sometimes such are not ill
lined!"
The youths accepted the proposal of their leader with alacrity.
"Let us have the blessing of the holy palmers," they cried, "and eke
the contents of their pockets!"
So with a gay shout, and in an evil hour for themselves, they bore
down upon the four Scots.
"Good four evangelists," cried the youth who had spoken first--a tall,
ill-favoured, and sallow young man in a cloak of blue lined with
scarlet, swaggering it with long strides before the others, "tell us
which of you four is Messire Matthew. For, being a tax-gatherer, he
will assuredly have money of his own, and besides, since the sad death
of your worthy friend Judas, he must have succeeded him as your
treasurer."
"This is the keeper of our humble store, noble sir," answered the Lord
James Douglas, quietly, indicating the giant Malise with his left
hand, "but spare him and us, I pray you courteously!"
"Ha, so," mocked the tall youth, turning to Malise, "then the
gentleman of the receipt of custom hath grown strangely about the
chest since he went a-wandering from Galilee!"
And he reached forward his hand to pull away the cloak which hung
round the great frame of the master armourer.
Malise MacKim understood nothing of his words or of his intent, but
without looking at his tormentor or any of the company, he asked of
James Douglas, in a voice like the first distant mutterings of a
thunder-storm, "Shall I clout him?"
"Nay, be patient, Malise, I bid you. This is an ill town in which to
get rid of a quarrel once begun. Be patient!" commanded James Douglas
under his breath.
"We are clerks ourselves," the swarthy youth went on, "and we have
come to the conclusion that such holy palmers as you be, men from
Burgundy or the Midi, as I guess by your speech, Spaniards by your
cloaks and this good tax-gatherer's beard, ought long ago to have
taken the vows of poverty. If not, you shall take them now. For, most
worthy evangelistic four, be it known unto you that I am Saint Peter
and can loose or bind. So turn out your money-bags. Draw your blades,
limber lads!"
Whereupon his companions with one accord drew their swords and
advanced upon the Scots. These stood still without moving as if they
had been taken wholly unarmed.
"Shall I clout them now?" rumbled Malise the second time, with an
anxious desire in his voice.
"Bide a wee yet," whispered the Lord James; "we will try the soft
answer once more, and if that fail, why then, old Samson, you may
clout your fill."
"_His_ fill!" corrected Malise, grimly.
"Your pardon, good gentlemen," said James of Douglas aloud to the
spokesman, "we are poor men and travel with nothing but the merest
necessities--of which surely you would not rob us."
"Nay, holy St. Luke," mocked the swarthy one, "not rob. That is an
evil word--rather we would relieve you of temptation for your own
souls' good. You are come for your sins to Paris. You know that the
love of money is the root of all evil. So in giving to us who are
clerks of Paris you will not lose your ducats, but only contribute of
your abundance to Holy Mother Church. I am a clerk, see--I do not
deceive you! I will both shrive and absolve you in return for the
filthy lucre!"
And, commanding one of his rabble to hold a torch close to his head,
he uncovered and showed a tonsured crown.
"And if we refuse?" said Lord James, quietly.
"Then, good Doctor Luke," answered the youth, "we are ten to four--and
it would be our sad duty to send you all to heaven and then ease your
pockets, lest, being dead, some unsanctified passer-by might be
tempted to steal your money."
"Surely I may clout him now?" came again like the nearer growl of a
lion from Malise the smith.
Seeing the four men apparently intimidated and without means of
defence, the ten youths advanced boldly, some with swords in their
right hands and torches in their left, the rest with swords and
daggers both. The Scots stood silent and firm. Not a weapon showed
from beneath a cloak.
"Down on your knees!" cried the leader of the young roisterers, and
with his left hand he thrust a blazing torch into the grey beard of
Malise.
There was a quick snort of anger. Then, with a burst of relief and
pleasure, came the words, "By God, I'll clout him now!" The sound of a
mighty buffet succeeded, something cracked like a broken egg, and the
clever-tongued young clerk went down on the paving-stones with a
clatter, as his torch extinguished itself in the gutter and his sword
flew ringing across the street.
"Come on, lads--they have struck the first blow. We are safe from the
law. Kill them every one!" cried his companions, advancing to the
attack with a confidence born of numbers and the consciousness of
fighting on their own ground.
But ere they reached the four men who had waited so quietly, the Scots
had gathered their cloaks about their left arms in the fashion of
shields, and a blade, long and stout, gleamed in every right hand.
Still no armour was to be seen, and, though somewhat disconcerted, the
assailants were by no means dismayed.
"Come on--let us revenge De Sillé!" they cried.
"Lord, Lord, this is gaun to be a sair waste o' guid steel," grumbled
Malise; "would that I had in my fist a stieve oaken staff out of
Halmyre wood. Then I could crack their puir bit windlestaes o' swords,
without doing them muckle hurt! Laddies, laddies, be warned and gang
decently hame to your mithers before a worse thing befall. James, ye
hae their ill-contrived lingo, tell them to gang awa' peaceably to
their naked beds!"
For, having vented his anger in the first buffet, Malise was now
somewhat remorseful. There was no honour in such fighting. But all
unwarned the youthful roisterers of Paris advanced. This was a nightly
business with them, and indeed on such street robberies of strangers
and shopkeepers the means of continuing their carousings depended.
It chanced that at the first brunt of the attack Sholto, who was at
the other end of the line from his father, had to meet three opponents
at once. He kept them at bay for a minute by the quickness of his
defence, but being compelled to give back he was parrying a couple of
their blades in front, when the third got in a thrust beneath his arm.
It was as if the hostile sword had stricken a stone wall. The flimsy
and treacherous blade went to flinders, and the would-be robber was
left staring at the guard suddenly grown light in his hand.
With a quick backward step, Sholto slashed his last assailant across
the upper arm, effectually disabling him. Then, catching his heel in a
rut, he fell backward, and it would have gone ill with him but for the
action of his father. The brawny one was profoundly disgusted at
having to waste his strength and science upon such a rabble, and now,
at the moment of his son's fall, he suddenly dropped his sword and
seized a couple of torches which had fallen upon the pavement. With
these primitive weapons he fell like a whirlwind upon the foe, taking
them unexpectedly in flank. A sweep of his mighty arms right and left
sent two of the assailants down, one with the whole side of his face
scarified from brow to jaw, and the other with his mouth at once
widened by the blow and hermetically closed by the blazing tar.
Next, Sholto's pair of assailants received each a mighty buffet and
went down with cracked sconces. The rest, seeing this revolving and
decimating fire-mill rushing upon them as Malise waved the torches
round his head, turned tail and fled incontinently into the narrow
alleys which radiated in all directions from the Hotel de Pornic.