CHAPTER III--WHAT BEFELL OUTSIDE OF CHINON TOWN
My old nurse, when I was a child, used to tell me a long story of aprince who, wandering through the world, made friends with many strangecompanions. One she called Lynx-eye, that could see through a mountain;one was Swift-foot, that could outrun the wind; one was Fine-ear, thatcould hear the grass growing; and there was Greedy-gut, that couldswallow a river. All these were very serviceable to this graciousprince, of I know not what country, in his adventures; and they wereoften brought into my mind by the companions whom we picked up on thegrass-grown roads.
These wanderers were as strange as the friends of the prince, and were asvariously, but scarce as honourably, gifted. There was the one-armedsoldier, who showed his stump very piteously when it was a question ofbegging from a burgess, but was as well furnished with limbs as other menwhen no burgess was in sight. There was a wretched woman violer, withher jackanapes, and with her husband, a hang-dog ruffian, she bearing themark of his fist on her eye, and commonly trailing far behind him withher brat on her back. There was a blind man, with his staff, who mightwell enough answer to Keen-eye, that is, when no strangers were in sight.There was a layman, wearing cope and stole and selling indulgences, butour captain, Brother Thomas, soon banished him from our company, for thathe divided the trade. Others there were, each one of them a Greedy-gut,a crew of broken men, who marched with us on the roads; but we neverentered a town or a house with these discreditable attendants.
Now, it may seem strange, but the nearer we drew to Chinon and the Court,the poorer grew the country, for the Court and the men-at-arms hadstripped it bare, like a flight of locusts. For this reason the Dauphincould seldom abide long at one place, for he was so much better knownthan trusted that the very cordwainer would not let him march off in anew pair of boots without seeing his money, and, as the song said, heeven greased his old clouted shoon, and made them last as long as hemight. For head-gear he was as ill provided, seeing that he had pawnedthe fleurons of his crown. There were days when his treasurer at Tours(as I myself have heard him say) did not reckon three ducats in hiscoffers, and the heir of France borrowed money from his very cook. Sothe people told us, and I have often marvelled how, despite this poverty,kings and nobles, when I have seen them, go always in cloth of gold, withrich jewels. But, as you may guess, near the Court of a beggar Dauphinthe country-folk too were sour and beggarly.
We had to tighten our belts before we came to the wood whereincross-roads meet, from north, south, and east, within five miles of thetown of Chinon. There was not a white coin among us; night was falling,and it seemed as if we must lie out under the stars, and be fed, like thewolves we heard howling, on wind. By the roadside, at the crossways, butnot in view of the road, a council of our ragged regiment was held in adeep ditch. It would be late ere we reached the town, gates would scarceopen for us, we could not fee the warders, houses would be shut and dark;the King's archers were apt to bear them unfriendly to wandering men withthe devil dancing in their pouches. Resource we saw none; if there was acottage, dogs, like wolves for hunger and fierceness, were baying roundit. As for Brother Thomas, an evil bruit had gone before us concerning acordelier that the fowls and geese were fain to follow, as wilder things,they say, follow the blessed St. Francis. So there sat Brother Thomas atthe cross-roads, footsore, hungry, and sullen, in the midst of us, whodared not speak, he twanging at the string of his arbalest. He calledhimself our Moses, in his blasphemous way, and the blind man havinggirded at him for not leading us into the land of plenty, he had struckthe man till he bled, and now stood stanching his wound.
Suddenly Brother Thomas ceased from his twanging, and holding up his handfor silence, leaned his ear to the ground. The night was still, though acold wind came very stealthily from the east.
"Horses!" he said.
"It is but the noise of the brook by the way," said the blind man,sullenly.
Brother Thomas listened again.
"No, it is horses," he whispered. "My men, they that ride horses canspare somewhat out of their abundance to feed the poor." And with thathe began winding up his arbalest hastily. "Aymeric," he said to one ofour afflicted company, "you draw a good bow for a blind man; hideyourself in the opposite ditch, and be ready when I give the word 'Paxvobiscum.' You, Giles," he spoke to the one-armed soldier, "go with him,and, do you hear, aim low, at the third man's horse. From the soundthere are not more than five or six of them. We can but fail, at worst,and the wood is thick behind us, where none may pursue. You, Norman dePitcullo, have your whinger ready, and fasten this rope tightly to yonderbirch-tree stem, and then cross and give it a turn or two about that oaksapling on the other side of the way. That trap will bring down a horseor twain. Be quick, you Scotch wine-bag!"
I had seen many ill things done, and, to my shame, had held my peace. Buta Leslie of Pitcullo does not take purses on the high-road. Therefore myheart rose in sudden anger, I having all day hated him more and more forhis bitter tongue, and I was opening my mouth to cry "A secours!"--awarning to them who were approaching, when, quick as lightning, BrotherThomas caught me behind the knee-joints, and I was on the ground with hisweight above me. One cry I had uttered, when his hand was on my mouth.
"Give him the steel in his guts!" whispered the blind man.
"Slit his weasand, the Scotch pig!" said the one-armed soldier.
They were all on me now.
"No, I keep him for better sport," snarled Brother Thomas. "He shalllearn the Scots for 'ecorcheurs' (flayers of men) "when we have filledour pouches."
With that he crammed a great napkin in my mouth, so that I could not cry,made it fast with a piece of cord, trussed me with the rope which he hadbidden me tie across the path to trip the horses, and with a kick sent meflying to the bottom of the ditch, my face being turned from the road.
I could hear Giles and Aymeric steal across the way, and the rustling ofboughs as they settled on the opposite side. I could hear the tramplinghoofs of horses coming slowly and wearily from the east. At this momentchanced a thing that has ever seemed strange to me: I felt the hand ofthe violer woman laid lightly and kindly on my hair. I had ever pitiedher, and, as I might, had been kind to her and her bairn; and now, as itappears, she pitied me. But there could be no help in her, nor did shedare to raise her voice and give an alarm. So I could but gnaw at mygag, trying to find scope for my tongue to cry, for now it was not onlythe travellers that I would save, but my own life, and my escape from adeath of torment lay on my success. But my mouth was as dry as a kiln,my tongue was doubled back till I thought that I should have choked. Thenight was now deadly still, and the ring of the weary hoofs drew nearerand nearer. I heard a stumble, and the scramble of a tired horse as herecovered himself; for the rest, all was silent, though the beating of myown heart sounded heavy and husky in my ears.
Closer and closer the travellers drew, and soon it was plain that theyrode not carelessly, nor as men who deemed themselves secure, for thetramp of one horse singled itself out in front of the others, and this,doubtless, was ridden by an "eclaireur," sent forward to see that the wayahead was safe. Now I heard a low growl of a curse from Brother Thomas,and my heart took some comfort. They might be warned, if the Brothershot at the foremost man; or, at worst, if he was permitted to pass, theman would bear swift tidings to Chinon, and we might be avenged, thetravellers and I, for I now felt that they and I were in the same peril.
The single rider drew near, and passed, and there came no cry of "Paxvobiscum" from the friar. But the foremost rider had, perchance, thebest horse, and the least wearied, for there was even too great a gapbetween him and the rest of his company.
And now their voices might be heard, as they talked by the way, yet notso loud that, straining my ears as I did, I could hear any words. Butthe sounds waxed louder, with words spoken, ring of hoofs, and rattle ofscabbard on stirrup, and so I knew, at least, that they who rode so latewere men armed. Brother Thomas, too, knew it, and cursed ag
ain very low.
Nearer, nearer they came, then almost opposite, and now, as I listened tohear the traitorous signal of murder--"Pax vobiscum"--and the twang ofbow-strings, on the night there rang a voice, a woman's voice, soft butwondrous clear, such as never I knew from any lips but hers who thenspoke; that voice I heard in its last word, "Jesus!" and still it issounding in my ears.
That voice said--
"Nous voila presqu'arrives, grace a mes Freres de Paradis."
Instantly, I knew not how, at the sound of that blessed voice, and thecourage in it, I felt my fear slip from me, as when we awaken from adreadful dream, and in its place came happiness and peace. Scarceotherwise might he feel who dies in fear and wakes in Paradise.
On the forest boughs above me, my face being turned from the road,somewhat passed, or seemed to pass, like a soft golden light, such as inthe Scots tongue we call a "boyn," that ofttimes, men say, travels withthe blessed saints. Yet some may deem it but a glancing in my own eyes,from the blood flying to my head; howsoever it be, I had never seen thelike before, nor have I seen it since, and, assuredly, the black branchesand wild weeds were lit up bare and clear.
The tramp of the horses passed, there was no cry of "Pax vobiscum," notwang of bows, and slowly the ring of hoofs died away on the road toChinon. Then came a rustling of the boughs on the further side of theway, and a noise of footsteps stealthily crossing the road, and now Iheard a low sound of weeping from the violer woman, that was crouchinghard by where I lay. Her man struck her across the mouth, and she wasstill.
"You saw it? Saints be with us! You saw them?" he whispered to BrotherThomas.
"Fool, had I not seen, would I not have given the word? Get you gone,all the sort of you, there is a fey man in this company, be he who hewill. Wander your own ways, and if ever one of you dogs speak to meagain, in field, or street, or market, or ever mention this night . . .ye shall have my news of it. Begone! Off!"
"Nay, but, Brother Thomas, saw'st thou what we saw? What sight saw'stthou?"
"What saw I? Fools, what should I have seen, but an outrider, and he aKing's messenger, sent forward to warn the rest by his fall, if he fell,or to raise the country on us, if he passed, and if afterward they passedus not. They were men wary in war, and travelling on the Dauphin'sbusiness. Verily there was no profit in them."
"And that was all? We saw other things."
"What I saw was enough for me, or for any good clerk of St. Nicholas, andof questions there has been more than enough. Begone! scatter to thewinds, and be silent."
"And may we not put the steel in that Scotch dog who delayed us? Saintsor sorcerers, their horses must have come down but for him."
Brother Thomas caught me up, as if I had been a child, in his arms, andtossed me over the ditch-bank into the wood, where I crashed on my facethrough the boughs.
"Only one horse would have fallen, and that had brought the others on us.The Scot is safe enough, his mouth is well shut. I will have no blood to-night; leave him to the wolves. And now, begone with you: to Fierbois,if you will; I go my own road--alone."
They wandered each his own way, sullen and murmuring, starved and weary.What they had seen or fancied, and whether, if the rest saw aughtstrange, Brother Thomas saw nought, I knew not then, and know not tillthis hour. But the tale of this ambush, and of how they that lay inhiding held their hands, and fled--having come, none might say whence,and gone, whither none might tell--is true, and was soon widely spoken ofin the realm of France.
The woods fell still again, save for the babble of the brook, and there Ilay, bound, and heard only the stream in the silence of the night.
There I lay, quaking, when all the caitiffs had departed, and the black,chill night received me into itself. At first my mind was benumbed, likemy body; but the pain of my face, smarting with switch and scratch of theboughs through which I had fallen, awoke me to thought and fear. Iturned over to lie on my back, and look up for any light of hope in thesky, but nothing fell on me from heaven save a cold rain, that theleafless boughs did little to ward off. Scant hope or comfort had I; mywhole body ached and shuddered, only I did not thirst, for the rainsoaked through the accursed napkin on my mouth, while the dank earth,with its graveyard smell, seemed to draw me down into itself, as it dragsa rotting leaf. I was buried before death, as it were, even if thewolves found me not and gave me other sepulture; and now and again Iheard their long hunting cry, and at every patter of a beast's foot, orshivering of the branches, I thought my hour was come--and I unconfessed!The road was still as death, no man passing by it. This night to me waslike the night of a man laid living in the tomb. By no twisting andturning could I loosen the rope that Brother Thomas had bound me in, witha hand well taught by cruel practice. At last the rain in my face grewlike a water-torture, always dropping, and I half turned my face andpressed it to the ground.
Whether I slept by whiles, or waked all night, I know not, but certainlyI dreamed, seeing with shut eyes faces that came and went, shifting frombeauty such as I had never yet beheld, to visages more and more hideousand sinful, ending at last in the worst--the fell countenance ofNoiroufle. Then I woke wholly to myself, in terror, to find that he wasnot there, and now came to me some of that ease which had been born ofthe strange, sweet voice, and the strange words, "Mes Freres de Paradis."
"My brethren of Paradise"; who could she be that rode so late in companyof armed men, and yet spoke of such great kinsfolk? That it might be theholy Colette, then, as now, so famous in France for her miracles, andgood deeds, and her austerities, was a thought that arose in me. But theholy Sister, as I had heard, never mounted a horse in her manywanderings, she being a villein's daughter, but was carried in a litter,or fared in a chariot; nor did she go in company with armed men, for whowould dare to lay hands on her? Moreover, the voice that I had heard wasthat of a very young girl, and the holy Sister Colette was now enteredinto the vale of years. So my questioning found no answer.
And now I heard light feet, as of some beast stirring and scratching inthe trees overhead, and there with a light jingling noise. Was it asquirrel? Whatever it was, it raced about the tree, coming nearer andgoing further away, till it fell with a weight on my breast, and,shivering with cold, all strained like a harp-string as I was, I couldhave screamed, but for the gag in my mouth. The thing crawled up mybody, and I saw two red eyes fixed on mine, and deemed it had been a wildcat, such as lives in our corries of the north--a fell beast if broughtto bay, but otherwise not hurtful to man.
There the red eyes looked on me, and I on them, till I grew giddy withgazing, and half turned my head with a stifled sob. Then there came asharp cry which I knew well enough, and the beast leaped up and nestledunder my breast, for this so dreadful thing was no worse than the violerwoman's jackanapes, that had slipped its chain, or, rather, had drawn itout of her hand, for now I plainly heard the light chain jingle. Thisput me on wondering whether they had really departed; the man, verily,thirsted for my life, but he would have slain me ere this hour, Ithought, if that had been his purpose. The poor beast a little helped towarm me with the heat of his body, and he was a friendly creature, makingme feel less alone in the night. Yet, in my own misery, I could not helpbut sorrow for the poor woman when she found her jackanapes gone, thatwas great part of her living: and I knew what she would have to bear forits loss from the man that was her master.
As this was in my mind, the first grey stole into the sky so that I couldsee the black branches overhead; and now there awoke the cries of birds,and soon the wood was full of their sweet jargoning. This put some hopeinto my heart; but the morning hours were long, and colder than thenight, to one wet to the bone with the rains. Now, too, I comfortedmyself with believing that, arrive what might, I was wholly quit ofBrother Thomas, whereat I rejoiced, like the man in the tale who had soldhis soul to the Enemy, and yet, in the end, escaped his clutches by theaid of Holy Church. Death was better to me than life with BrotherThomas, who must assuredly have dragged me wit
h him to the death thatcannot die. Morning must bring travellers, and my groaning might leadthem to my aid. And, indeed, foot-farers did come, and I did groan aswell as I could, but, like the Levite in Scripture, they passed by on theother side of the way, fearing to meddle with one wounded perchance tothe death, lest they might be charged with his slaying, if he died, ormight anger his enemies, if he lived.
The light was now fully come, and some rays of the blessed sun fell uponme, whereon I said orisons within myself, commanding my case to thesaints. Devoutly I prayed, that, if I escaped with life, I might bedelivered from the fear of man, and namely of Brother Thomas. It werebetter for me to have died by his weapon at first, beside the brokenbridge, than to have lived his slave, going in dread of him, with aslave's hatred in my heart. So now I prayed for spirit enough to defendmy honour and that of my country, which I had borne to hear reviledwithout striking a blow for it. Never again might I dree this extremeshame and dishonour. On this head I addressed myself, as was fitting, tothe holy Apostle St. Andrew, our patron, to whom is especially dear thehonour of Scotland.
Then, as if he and the other saints had listened to me, I heard sounds ofhorses' hoofs, coming up the road from Chinon way, and also voices.These, like the others of the night before, came nearer, and I heard awoman's voice gaily singing. And then awoke such joy in my heart asnever was there before, and this was far the gladdest voice that ever yetI heard, for, behold, it was the speech of my own country, and the tune Iknew and the words.
"O, we maun part this love, Willie, That has been lang between; There's a French lord coming over sea To wed me wi' a ring; There's a French lord coming o'er the sea To wed and take me hame!"
"And who shall the French lord be, Elliot?" came another voice, a man'sthis time, "though he need not cross the sea for you, the worse the luck.Is it young Pothon de Xaintrailles? Faith, he comes often enough to seehow his new penoncel fares in my hands, and seems right curious inpainting."
It may be deemed strange that, even in this hour, I conceived in my hearta great mislike of this young French lord, how unjustly I soon wellunderstood.
"O, nae French lord for me, father, O, nae French lord for me, But I'll ware my heart on a true-born Scot, And wi' him I'll cross the sea."
"Oh, father, lo you, I can make as well as sing, for that is no word ofthe old ballant, but just came on to my tongue!"
They were now right close to me, and, half in fear, half in hope, I beganto stir and rustle in the grass, for of my stifled groaning had hithertocome no profit. Then I heard the horses stop.
"What stirring is that in the wood, father? I am afraid," came thegirl's voice.
"Belike a fox shifting his lair. Push on, Maid Elliot." The horsesadvanced, when, by the blessing of the saints, the jackanapes woke in mybreast.
The creature was used to run questing with a little wooden bowl hecarried for largesse, to beg of horsemen for his mistress. This trick ofhis he did now, hearing the horses' tramp. He leaped the ditch, and Isuppose he ran in front of the steeds, shaking his little bowl, as washis wont.
"Oh, father," sounded the girl's voice, "see the little jackanapes! Sometravelling body has lost him. Let me jump down and catch him. Look, hehas a little coat on, made like a herald's tabard, and wears the coloursof France. Here, hold my reins."
"No, lass. Who can tell where, or who, his owner is? Take you my reins,and I will bring you the beast."
I heard him heavily dismount.
"It will not let itself be caught by a lame man," he said; and hescrambled up the ditch bank, while the jackanapes fled to me, and thenran forward again, back and forth.
"Nom Dieu, whom have we here?" cried the man, in French.
I turned, and made such a sound with my mouth as I might, while thejackanapes nestled to my breast.
"Why do ye not speak, man?" he said again; and I turned my eyes on him,looking as pitifully as might be out of my blood-bedabbled face.
He was a burly man, great of growth, with fresh red cheeks, blue eyes,reddish hair, and a red beard, such as are many in the Border marches ofmy own country, the saints bless them for true men! Withal he draggedhis leg in walking, which he did with difficulty and much carefulness. He"hirpled," as we say, towards me very warily; then, seeing the rope boundabout me, and the cloth in my mouth, he drew his dagger, but not to cutmy bonds. He was over canny for that, but he slit the string that keptthe cursed gag in my mouth, and picked it out with his dagger point; and,oh the blessed taste of that first long draught of air, I cannot set itdown in words! "What, in the name of all the saints, make you here, inthis guise?" he asked in French, but with a rude Border accent.
"I am a kindly Scot," I said in our own tongue, "of your own country.Give me water." And then a dwawm, as we call it, or fainting-fit, cameover me.
When I knew myself again, I was lying with my head in a maiden's lap, andwell I could have believed that the fairies had carried me to their ownland, as has befallen many, whereof some have returned to earth with thetale, and some go yet in that unearthly company.
"Gentle demoiselle, are you the gracious Queen of Faerie?" I asked, asone half-wakened, not knowing what I said. Indeed this lady was clad allin the fairy green, and her eyes were as blue as the sky above her head,and the long yellow locks on her shoulders were shining like the sun.
"Father, he is not dead," she said, laughing as sweet as all the singing-birds in March--"he is not dead, but sorely wandering in his mind when hetakes Elliot Hume for the Fairy Queen."
"Faith, he might have made a worse guess," cried the man. "But now, sir,now that your bonds are cut, I see nothing better for you than a well-washed face, for, indeed, you are by ordinary 'kenspeckle,' and nocompany for maids."
With that he brought some water from the burn by the road, and therewithhe wiped my face, first giving me to drink. When I had drunk, the maidwhom he called Elliot got up, her face very rosy, and they set my backagainst a tree, which I was right sorry for, as indeed I was now cleanout of fairyland and back in this troublesome world. The horses stood byus, tethered to trees, and browsed on the budding branches.
"And now, maybe," he said, speaking in the kindly Scots, that was likemusic in my ear--"now, maybe, you will tell us who you are, and how youcame into this jeopardy."
I told him, shortly, that I was a Scot of Fife; whereto he answered thatmy speech was strangely English. On this matter I satisfied him with thetruth, namely, that my mother was of England. I gave my name but notthat of our lands, and showed him how I had been wandering north, to takeservice with the Dauphin, when I was set upon, and robbed and bound bythieves, for I had no clearness as to telling him all my tale, and nodesire to claim acquaintance with Brother Thomas.
"And the jackanapes?" he asked, whereto I had no better answer than thatI had seen the beast with a wandering violer on the day before, and thatshe having lost it, as I supposed, it had come to me in the night.
The girl was standing with the creature in her arms, feeding it withpieces of comfits from a pouch fastened at her girdle.
"The little beast is not mine to give," I went on, seeing how she had anaffection to the ape, "but till the owner claims it, it is all the ransomI have to pay for my life, and I would fain see it wear the colours ofthis gentle maid who saved me. It has many pretty tricks, but though to-day I be a beggar, I trow she will not let it practise that ill trick ofbegging."
"Sooner would I beg myself, fair sir," she said, with such a courtlyreverence as surprised me; for though they seemed folks well to see inthe world, they were not, methought, of noble blood, nor had they withthem any company of palfreniers or archers.
"Elliot, you feed the jackanapes and let our countryman hunger," said theman; and, blushing again, she made haste to give me some of the provisionshe had made for her journey.
So I ate and drank, she waiting on me very gently; but now, being wearyof painful writing, and hearing the call to the refectory, and thebrethren trampling thither, I
must break off, for, if I be late, theywill sconce me of my ale. Alas! it is to these little cares of creaturecomforts that I am come, who have seen the face of so many a war, andlived and fought on rat's flesh at Compiegne.