CHAPTER V -- HOSTAGES
Margaret rose to meet her husband when he entered. She had looked pale inher dress of deep mourning before, but he thought that she looked palernow. She, too, had evidently been thinking over the summons that he hadreceived, and there was an expression of firmness and resolution in herface that seemed to say that she had arrived at a more definite conclusionthan he had done.
"'Tis a knotty question, wife," Sir Eustace said. "In the first place, itis clear we cannot hope to defend the castle successfully against anattack by Burgundy. The last was but of the character of a raid, the nextwould be a serious siege by experienced soldiers provided with all propermeans and appliances. Before, it was certain that Sir Clugnet would, if hetarried here, be shortly attacked by the Burgundians, whereas now therewould be no prospect of assistance. There is no hope of help from England,for there is no force in Calais that could contend with that which wouldprobably be sent against me; therefore I take it that if attacked thecastle must in the end fall, in which case probably its defenders wouldall be put to the sword. I myself should most likely be killed, theestates forfeited, and you and the children taken prisoners to Paris. Nowit seems to me that that is not to be thought of. It remains to decide,therefore, whether we shall abandon the castle and journey to England, orwhether we will admit a Burgundian garrison, which will in fact, we may besure, be the first step towards losing the castle and estate altogether.It seems to me that the first will be the best plan. I see no chance of itat present, but in time Henry may invade France; and as we lie only someseven or eight miles from the frontier he would doubtless recaptureVilleroy, and we should again become its masters."
"You have not mentioned the other alternative, Eustace, namely, that I andthe children should go to Paris as hostages; and this, it seems to me, isthe best of the three to follow. If there were indeed a chance of anEnglish invasion I should not say so, but I think not that there is anysuch prospect. It is many years since England has done aught in earnest,and during all that time her power in France has been waning. I would notthat our children should lose this fair estate when it can well bepreserved by some slight sacrifice on my part. Were I and the children togo to Paris it would put an end to all doubts as to your loyalty, and youwould hold the castle and estates. The peace now patched up between theparties will not last, and as soon as they are engaged with each other,and have no time to spare to think of attacking you here, I will endeavourto escape with the children and rejoin you. I shall assuredly have nocause for complaint. I shall, of course, have honourable treatment, andapartments fitting to our rank assigned to me. It would be no greathardship, and even were it so it would be worth enduring in order that ourson Charles should inherit his father's estate."
"I could not part from you, love."
"Nay, Eustace, as I have said, it cannot be for long; and you mustremember that twice when the children were infants I remained in Englandwith them while you were some months here. It would be no worse now. Iwould take Guy with me; the lad has sense and courage, the children areboth fond of him, and I myself could, if occasion arose, take counsel withhim. Then I could have two or three stout men-at-arms who might ride in mytrain in peaceful garb as retainers. As to a maid I can, if I need one,hire her in Paris. Surely, husband, it would be far better so than that weshould lose castle and land. There could be little danger to one in Parisat any time, still less to the wife of a vassal of the crown, least of allto a hostage. I shall be but staying at the court. If you peril life andlimb, Eustace, in defence of your castle, surely it is not much that Ishould put myself to the slight inconvenience of a stay in Paris for awhile."
"I like it not," the knight said moodily. "I see well enough that what yousay is true, and that you should be safe at Charles's court, indeed saferthan here. The citizens of Paris are indeed turbulent, whether they shoutfor Orleans or Burgundy, but what if Henry of England should again lead anarmy here?"
"But why imagine what is not likely to happen? Long ere Henry comes I mayhave joined you again; should it be otherwise I might perhaps escape, orat the very worst of all they could but keep me in duress in my chamber.Who ever heard of a woman being ill-treated for the disobedience of herlord? All that they could do would be to make you pay ransom for myreturn."
"I would rather go as a hostage myself."
"Nay, husband, that could hardly be. Who would then take care of yourcastle? It is not a hard thing that the king asks, merely that I and thechildren shall for a time live at his court as a proof that you, hisvassal, hold your castle for him. Even if the worst comes to the worst wecan but lose castle and land, as we must lose it now if I do not go. Nay,my dear lord, do not wrinkle your brow, we cannot strive against the mightof France; and at present we must bow our heads and wait until the stormhas passed, and hope for better times. There may be an English war; erelong Henry may again extend his frontiers, and you might again become avassal of England for these possessions of yours even as your fatherswere."
"I see that reason is on your side, Margaret, and yet I cannot bringmyself to like the plan."
"Nor do I like it, husband; yet I feel that it were a thousand timesbetter that I should be separated from you for a time than that we shouldrisk another siege. The last has cost us dear enough, another might takeyou from me."
"Well, well, dear, I suppose you must have your way; indeed I do not seethat harm can possibly come to you, and it will at any rate ensure peacefor a time and enable us to repair our tenants' losses. I shall send overa message at once to Sir Aylmer, and beg him to choose and send me anotherfifty archers--with that reinforcement I could make head against anyattack save in the greatest force--for there is no saying how things maygo. The five-and-twenty did wonders, and with thrice that force I shouldfeel confident that Villeroy could withstand any attack save by an armywith an abundance of great machines.
"Well, Margaret, since you have decided for me that you are to go--andindeed I myself plainly see that that alternative is really the best--letus talk over who you had best take with you. I quite approve of yourchoice of Guy; he is a good lad, and will make a brave knight some day. Ishall now make him one of my esquires, and as such he will always be inattendance on you; and assuredly Agnes and Charlie will, as well asyourself, benefit by his presence. He will be able to take them out andlook after them, and as he talks French as well as English the lad will beuseful to you in many ways. Have you any preference as to the four men-at-arms?"
"Could you spare Tom, the leader of the archers? I should like to haveanother Englishman with me, and he is very good-tempered and obliging. Heis shrewd too, and with his strength and courage I should feel that Icould wholly rely upon him in any strait, though indeed I see not thatthere is any probability of such occurring."
"Certainly you can have him, Margaret, and I shall be glad to know that heis with you. Dickon, who is next under him, can act as captain of thearchers while he is away. I have noticed that Tom is picking up thelanguage fast. He is always ready to do little kindnesses to the women andchildren, and I have often heard him talking with them. He will soon getto speak the language fairly. As to the others have you any choice?"
"No, I think you had better choose them for me, Eustace."
"They had better be French," he said; "it would not do for you to surroundyourself entirely by English, although of course it is natural enough thatyou should have an English squire and servant. I think that you could notdo better than take Jules Varey and Albert Bongarde. They are both stoutmen-at-arms, prudent fellows, and not given to the wine-cup. As a fourth Iwould say Jean Picard's son; he is a stout fellow too, and I know that,but for his father's hopes that he will one day succeed him as butler, hewould have taken service regularly as a man-at-arms. He fought stoutlywhen the French gained the wall, and I marked him exchanging blows withSir Clugnet himself, and bearing himself as well as any man there. Youcould choose no better."
"So be it," she said. "I think, Eustace, that with four such defenders, tosay nothing of young G
uy, you need not feel uneasy about us."
"I don't think that I shall feel uneasy, Margaret; but I know that I canill spare you. You have ever been at my side since we were married, savewhen, after the birth of Agnes and Charles, you were forced to stay inEngland when I came over here. I felt it a dreary time then, and shallfeel it so now; but I doubt not that all will go well with you, though itwill be a very different life to that to which you have been accustomed."
"I shall do well enough," Margaret said cheerfully, "and maybe I shall getso fond of court that you will have to take me to that of Henry when wereturn to England."
"Now you had best begin to make your preparations. I will speak to Guy andthe others myself."
Sir Eustace went into the court-yard, where Guy was superintending theissue of provisions for the women.
"This can go on without you," he said; "Gervaise will see to it. I wouldspeak to you. You were at the meeting this morning, Guy, and you heardwhat the herald of France said. The position is a hard one. I cannot holdthe castle against the strength of France, while if we take a Burgundiangarrison I should cease to be its master, and it would doubtless soon passinto other hands. Again, if I go to England, it would equally be lost tous. Therefore my wife has resolved, in order to gain time until thesedisorders are over, to go to Paris with the children as a hostage for me.In no case, as it seems to me, are Dame Margaret and the children likelyto be in danger; nevertheless, I am greatly loth for them to go. However,seeing no other way out of the business, I have consented, and we havearranged that you shall accompany her. You will go as my esquire, and Ishall install you as such this afternoon. You will take Long Tom, two ofthe men-at-arms, and Robert Picard, all good men and true; but at the sametime the burden and responsibility must rest upon your shoulders. You areyoung yet for so grave a charge, and yet I feel that I can confide it toyou. You will have to be the stay and support of your mistress, you willhave to be the companion and friend of my children, and I shall charge thefour men-at-arms to take orders from you as from me. Tom will be avaluable fellow. In the first place, he is, I know, much attached to you,besides being shrewd, and a very giant in strength. The other three areall honest varlets, and you can rely upon them in any pinch."
"I will do my best, my lord," Guy said quietly; "and I am grateful to youindeed for the confidence that you show in me, and I shall, I hope, proveworthy of it, and of my father."
The news soon spread through the castle that Dame Margaret was going toParis. The maids wept at the thought, as did many of the tenants' wives,for since the siege began, her kindness and the pains that she had takento make them comfortable had endeared her greatly to them. On her previousvisits they had seen comparatively little of her; she had been to themsimply their lord's English wife, now they knew her as a friend.Nevertheless, their regret at her leaving was softened by the thought thather going to be near the king insured peace for them, and that they wouldnow be able to venture out to the houses that were fast rising on theruins of their former homes, and to take up their life again as they hadleft it.
Early next morning the little cortege mustered in the court-yard inreadiness for a start. Sir Eustace and his wife had said good-bye to eachother in their chamber, and she looked calm and tranquil as she mountedher horse; for, having been accustomed from a child to ride with herfather hunting and hawking, she could sit a horse well, and scorned toride, as did so many ladies, on a pillion. Guy rode by her side, withAgnes on a pillion behind him. Long Tom, with Charlie perched in front ofhim, followed them, and the three men-at-arms brought up the rear. Charliewas in high spirits; he regarded the trip as a sort of holiday, and hadbeen talking, ever since he got up, of the wonders that he should see inParis. Agnes better understood the situation, and nothing but the feelingthat she ought to emulate the calmness of her mother restrained her frombursting into tears when her father lifted her on to her seat. The heraldled the way, followed by his two pursuivants. Dame Margaret checked herhorse in the middle of the court-yard, and said in a loud clear voice tothe tenants and men-at-arms round: "Adieu, good friends; I trust that Ishall not be long away from you. I go to stay for a time at the court inParis, and I leave you with the surety that you will have peace and restuntil I return, and be able to repair the damages you suffered from theattack made upon us by men who regard not the law." She turned and wavedher hand to Sir Eustace, who was standing immovable on the steps, andthen, touching the horse with her heel, they moved on after the herald.
"Do not fear to speak, Tom," Dame Margaret said, after they had left thecastle behind them; "the journey is a long one, and it will go all thequicker for honest talk. What think you of this expedition to Paris?"
"I would as lief go there as anywhere else, my lady. Indeed, men say thatit is a fine city, and as I have never seen a bigger town thanSouthampton, I doubt not that I shall find plenty to interest me at timeswhen you may not require our services."
"I see that you have brought your bow with you."
"Ay, my lady, I could not bring myself to part with it. Sir Eustace toldme that I could not carry it, as its length would be a matter of remark,and point me out at once as being an Englishman, seeing that the Frencharchers carry no bows of such length; so I have, even as you see, wrappedit round with straw, and fastened it to the saddle beneath my leg. I havealso put fourscore arrows among the valises on the pack-horses."
"There is no chance of your needing them, Tom."
"I trust that it is so," the archer replied; "but, indeed, there is neverany saying, and an archer without his bow is but a poor creature,--though,indeed, I trust that I can swing an axe as well as another."
"And much better than most, Tom; still, I hope that neither axe nor bowwill be required."
"To that I say amen also; for, although a fray may sometimes be to mytaste, I have no desire to be mixed up in a melee without some of my ownstout comrades with me."
"Shall we get to Paris to-night, Lady Mother?" Charlie asked.
"No, indeed; it will be five days, if not six, for I see by the way thatwe are travelling we are bearing east, and shall sleep at Lille or may beat Tournay; then, doubtless, we shall bear south, and may stop the nextnight at Cambrai, and make to Noyon on the following day, and thence toCompiegne or to Senlis, and the next day will take us to Paris. It alldepends how far and how fast we ride each day. But these matters will bearranged by the herald. Were we to go by the shortest route we should getthere more quickly; but Amiens is held by the party to whom the men whoattacked our castle belong, and by the way we are travelling we shall keepfor some time in Artois, and so escape all risk of trouble on the road."
"I don't care for trouble," Charlie said stoutly; "we have got Long Tomand Robert Picard and the other two, and Guy can fight also."
"That would be all very well, my son," his mother said smiling, "if wewere only attacked by half a dozen vagrants, but brave as they all arethey could do naught if a large body surprised us; but be assured thatthere is no fear of that--by the way we are travelling we shall meet withnone but friends."
"I should like to be attacked by the vagrants, mother. The last time youmade us stay with you when there was fighting going on, except just at thefirst, but here we should see it all."
"Well, I don't want to see it, Charlie, and I am glad that we are notlikely to do so; and you must remember that you and I and Agnes wouldsorely hamper our friends."
Nevertheless whenever a party of peasants was met upon the road Charlielooked out hopefully and heaved a sigh of disappointment when, afterdoffing their caps in respect, they passed on quietly. Several times theyencountered bodies of knights and men-at-arms, but the presence of theroyal herald saved them from all question. At each halting-place DameMargaret, her children and maid, were lodged in the house of one of theprincipal citizens, while Guy and the men-at-arms lay at an inn. Thetroubled state of the times was only manifest by the number of men-at-armsin the streets, and the strict watch kept at the gates of the towns. Manyof these were kept shut, and were only
opened once an hour to let peoplepass in and out. This, however, did not affect the travellers, for thegates were opened the moment the emblazonings on the surcoat of the heraldcould be made out.
"We have assuredly nothing to complain of so far, Guy," Dame Margaretsaid, as they set out on their last day's journey; "had we been the king'sspecial guests we could not have been more honourably treated, and I haveno doubt that although we shall be much less important personages at Paristhan as travellers under the royal protection, we shall yet be madecomfortable enough, and shall have naught to grieve over save theseparation from our lord."
"I cannot doubt that it will be so, lady," Guy replied; "and that at anyrate there will be no trouble, unless the Armagnacs lay siege to Paris orthere are riots in the city. I heard last night at the inn from sometravellers who had just left it, that although the majority of the peoplethere are in favour of Burgundy, yet that much discontent exists onaccount of the harsh measures of the officers he has appointed, andespecially of the conduct of the guild of butchers, who, as it seems, arehigh in favour with the duke, and rule the city as if it belonged tothem."
"It matters little to us, Guy, though it seems strange that the nobles ofFrance and the respectable citizens of Paris should allow themselves to beruled over by such a scum as that; but it was the same in Flanders, whereVon Artevelde, our ally, a great man and the chief among them, wasmurdered by the butchers who at the time held sway in Ghent, and who wereconspicuous for many years in all the tumults in the great towns there."
"I hear, madam, that the king is ill, and can see no one."
"Yes, I have heard the same from the herald. It will be John of Burgundywho will, for the time, be our master."
"I could desire a better," Guy said bluntly; "but we shall at any rateknow that his fair words are not to be trusted. For my part, however, Iwonder that after the (agreement with) the Duke of Orleans, with whom he had sworn a solemn peace, any man should hold converse with him."
"Unfortunately, Guy, men's interests count for more than their feelings,and a great noble, who has it in his power to grant favours and dispensehonours, will find adherents though he has waded through blood. Burgundy,too, as I hear, has winning manners and a soft tongue, and can, when itpleases him, play the part of a frank and honest man. At least it must beowned that the title of 'Fearless' does not misbecome him, for, had itbeen otherwise, he would have denied all part in the murder of Orleans,instead of openly avowing that it was done by his orders."
They had started at an earlier hour than usual that morning, as the heraldhad pointed out to Dame Margaret, that it were best to arrive in Paris asearly as possible, in order that the question of their lodging might besettled at once. Accordingly, they had been up at daybreak, and arrived inParis at noon.
"How long will it be, I wonder," Dame Margaret said, as they rode throughthe gates, "before we shall pass through here again?"
"Not very long I hope, my lady," Guy said; "but be sure that if at anytime you wish to leave we shall be able to procure disguises for you all,and to make our way out without difficulty."
"Nay, Guy, you forget that it is only so long as we are here that Villeroyis safe from attack. Whatever happens, nothing, save the news that anEnglish army has landed at Calais, and is about to invade France, wouldleave me free to attempt an escape. If not released before that, I mustthen, at all hazards, try to escape, for Sir Eustace, knowing that I amhere, would be placed in a sore strait indeed; both by his owninclinations and as a vassal of England, for he would want to join theEnglish as soon as they advanced, and yet would be hindered by theknowledge that I was a hostage here. It would be for me to relieve him ofthat fear; and the same feeling that induced me to come hither would thentake me back to Villeroy."
"Then, madam, I fear that our stay here will be a long one, for Henry hasnever pushed on the war with France vigorously, and though plenty of causehas been given by the capture of his castles in Guienne, he has neverdrawn sword either to regain them or to avenge the insults put upon theEnglish flag."
"King Henry is old, Guy; and they say that his son is as full of spiritand as fiery as his father is peaceful and indisposed for war. When theking dies, my lord thinks that it will be but a short time before theEnglish banner will be unfurled in France; and this is one of the reasonswhy he consented to my becoming an hostage, thinking that no long time islikely to elapse before he will have English backing, and will be able todisregard the threats of France."
"How narrow and sombre are these streets!" Guy said, after a pause, "oneseems to draw one's very breath with difficulty."
"They are well-nigh as narrow in London," his mistress replied; "but theyare gay enough below. See how crowded they are, and how brilliant are someof the costumes!"
"Some of them indeed, madam, but more are poor and miserable; and as tothe faces, they are so scowling and sombre, truly were we not on horsebackI should keep my hand tight upon my pouch, though in truth there isnothing in it worth stealing."
"Ay, ay, Master Guy," Long Tom broke in, "methinks that there are a goodmany heads among these scowling knaves that I would gladly have a chanceof cracking had I my quarter-staff in my hand and half a dozen stoutfellows here with me. See how insolently they stare!"
"Hush, Tom!" Dame Margaret said, turning round, "if you talk of crackingskulls I shall regret that I brought you with me."
"I am not thinking of doing it, my lady," the archer said apologetically."I did but say that I should like to do it, and between liking and doingthere is often a long distance."
"Sometimes, Tom, but one often leads to the other. You must remember thatabove all things it behoves us to act prudently here, and to avoid drawingthe attention of our foes. We English are not loved in Paris, and the lessyou open your mouth here the better; for when Burgundians and Armagnacsare ready to cut each other's throats over a name, fellow-countrymenthough they be, neither would feel any compunction about killing anEnglishman."
After riding for half an hour they entered the court-yard of a largebuilding, where men-at-arms and varlets wearing the cognizance of Burgundywere moving about, a group of nobles were standing on the steps, whilesome grooms were walking their horses round the court-yard. The heraldmade his way to the door, and here all alighted.
"Whom have we here, I wonder?" one of the young nobles said to another asthey came up. "A royal herald and his pursuivants; a young dame and a veryfair one; her daughter, I suppose, also fair; the lady's esquire; and asmall boy."
"Hostages, I should say," the other replied, "for the good conduct of thelady's lord, whoever he may be. I know her not, and think that she cannothave been at court for the last ten years, for I could hardly haveforgotten her face."
Dame Margaret took the hands of her two children and followed the heraldup the steps. She had made a motion of her head to Guy to attend her, andhe accordingly followed behind.
"A haughty lady as well as a fair one," the young knight laughed. "She didnot so much as glance at us, but held her head as high as if she weregoing in to rate Burgundy himself. I think that she must be English by herlooks, though what an English woman can be doing here in Paris is beyondmy understanding, unless it be that she is the wife of a knight ofGuienne; in that case she would more likely be with Orleans than here."
"Yes, but you see the herald has brought her. It may be her lord's castlehas been captured, and she has come under the safe-conduct of a herald tolay a complaint; but I think with you that she is English. The girl wasfair too, though not so fair as her mother, and that curly-headed youngesquire is of English stock too."
"He is a stout-looking fellow, De Maupas, and will make a powerful man; helooks as if he could strike a shrewd blow even now. Let us question theirknaves, one of whom, by the way, is a veritable giant in point of height."
He beckoned to the four men, and Robert Picard came forward.
"Who is your lady, young man?"
"Dame Margaret de Villeroy, may it please you, sir. She is the wife of SirEustace de Vi
lleroy."
"Then we were right, De Maupas, for De Villeroy is, I know, a vassal ofEngland for his wife's estates, and his people have always countedthemselves English, because for over a hundred years their castle stoodinside the English line."
"He is a stout knight. We heard a month ago how bravely he held his castleagainst Sir Clugnet de Brabant with 8000 Orleanists, and beat him off witha loss of five knights and 400 men. Sir Clugnet himself was sorelywounded. We all ought to feel mightily obliged to him for the check, whichsent them back post-haste out of Artois, where they had already donedamage enough, and might have done more had they not been so roughlyhandled. I wonder what the lady is here for?"
"It may be that he would have fought the Burgundians as stoutly as hefought the Armagnacs," the other said, "and that the duke does not careabout having so strong a castle held by so stout a knight within a fewmiles of the English line."
The other shrugged his shoulders. "The English are sleeping dogs," hesaid; "there is no Edward and no Black Prince to lead them now."
"No, but you must remember that sleeping dogs wake up sometimes, and eventry to bite when they do so; moreover we know of old that these particulardogs can bite hard."
"The sooner they wake up the better, I say, De Maupas. We have a longgrudge to wipe off against them, and our men are not likely to repeat themistakes that cost us so dearly before. Besides, the English have had noreal fighting for years, and it seems to me that they have altogethergiven up any hope of extending their possessions in France."
"One can never tell, De Revelle. For my part I own that I care not thatthey should again spread their banner on this side of the sea. There canbe no doubt that they are stout fighting-men, and seeing how France isdivided they might do sore damage did they throw their weight into oneside of the scale."
"Methinks that there is no fear of that. The dukes both know well enoughthat their own followers would not fight side by side with the English;and though they might propose an alliance with the Islanders, it wouldonly be for the purpose of bringing the war to a close by uniting bothparties against our old enemy."
In the meantime Dame Margaret had followed her conductor to the greatchamber, where John of Burgundy held audience in almost royal state.Several nobles were gathered round him, but at the entrance of the heraldthese fell back, leaving him standing by himself. An eminently politicman, the duke saw at once by the upright figure and the fearless air withwhich Dame Margaret entered the hall, that this was a case where courtesyand deference were far more likely to bring about the desired end ofwinning her husband over to his interests, than any menaces or roughspeaking; he therefore advanced two or three steps to meet her.
"My lord duke," the herald said, "this lady, Dame Margaret of Villeroy,has journeyed hither with me in accordance with the wish expressed by HisMajesty the king."
"As the king's representative in Paris, lady," the duke said to Margaret,"I thank you for your promptness in thus conceding to his wish."
"His Majesty's wish was naturally a command to me, Sir Duke," Margaretsaid with quiet dignity. "We, my husband and I, understood that some enemyhad been influencing His Majesty's mind against my lord, and in order toassure him of my lord's loyalty as a faithful vassal for the land heholds, I have willingly journeyed here with my children, although in muchgrief for the loss of my eldest son, who died in the attack lately madeupon our castle by a large body of men, of whom we knew naught, save thatthey did not come in the name of our lord the king."
"I have heard of the attack, lady, and of the gallant and successfuldefence made by Sir Eustace, and the king was greatly pleased to hear ofthe heavy check thus inflicted upon the men who had raised the banner ofrevolt, and were harassing His Majesty's faithful subjects."
"That being so, my lord duke," Margaret said, "'tis strange, after my lordhad shown how ready and well prepared he was to protect his castle againstill-doers, that he should have been asked to admit a garrison of strangersto aid him to hold it. Sir Eustace has no desire to meddle with thetroubles of the times; he holds his castle as a fief directly from thecrown, as his ancestors have held it for two hundred years; he wishes onlyto dwell in peace and in loyal service to the king."
THE LADY MARGARET MAKES HER OBEISANCE TO THE DUKE OFBURGUNDY.]
"Such we have always understood, madam, and gladly would the king haveseen Sir Eustace himself at his court. The king will, I trust, shortly berecovered from his malady; until he is so I have--for I was madeacquainted with your coming by messenger sent forward by Monjoie--arrangedfor you to be lodged in all honour at the house of Master Leroux, one ofthe most worshipful of the citizens of Paris, and provost of the guild ofsilversmiths. My chamberlain will at once conduct you thither."
"I thank you, my lord duke," Margaret said with a stately reverence, "andtrust that when I am received by my lord the king I shall be able to proveto him that Sir Eustace is his faithful vassal, and can be trusted to holdhis castle for him against all comers."
"I doubt it not, lady," the duke said courteously. "Sir VictorPierrepoint, I pray you to see this lady to the entrance. Sir Hugo willalready be waiting her there."