CHAPTER XVII
"So when this corruptible shall have put on in corruption, and this mortal shall have put on immortality; then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?"
Huber, the man-at-arms, went slowly round the battlements as the sunrose. He was in full panoply of war time. A steel cap was on his head,and he wore a supple coat of leathern thongs laced together, and madestronger by thin plates of steel at the shoulder and upper part of thearms.
He had a long shield on his left arm, a cavalry shield notched at thetop for a lance. He was inspecting the defences, and he carried thisgreat shield to protect himself from any chance shaft from the enemy,for he made a conspicuous mark every now and again against the sky line.
The two squires followed him, well content to learn of such a veteran.He was pure soldier; nothing escaped him. He saw that each archer, withhis huge painted long-bow, had his bracer and shooting glove ready. Hefound three sharp-shooters had only one small piece of wax among them,and sent for more, cursing them for improvident fools.
When he came to an arbalestrier his eye brightened at the sight of theweapon--by far the deadliest of that day, despite the praisers of theEnglish yew--which he loved. He tested the strong double cords with themoulinet, inspected the squat thick quarrels which lay in large leatherquivers, hung to the masonry by pegs, and saw that each steel-linedgroove was clean and shining.
The man's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he went his rounds. "Lookyou, sir," he said to Brian de Burgh, "we are well set up in thisfortalice. Never a thing is lacking! Nary castle from here to London isso well found." He pointed to a pile of brassarts, the arm-guards usedby the archers, which lay by a trough full of long steel-headed arrows,with bristles of goose and pigeon feathers.
"This is a powerful good creature in attack," he continued, pointing toa heap of lime. "A little water and a dipper to fling the mess with,and a-burneth out a man's eyes within the hour."
A serf came clambering up the wooden scaffolds which led to the walls.He carried seven or eight long ash wands. At the end of each hung a longpennon of linen. He gave them to Huber.
"What are these, Huber?" said young Richard Ferville, as the soldiertook them.
"It is a plan I saw at Arques," he answered, "Tete Rouge was head bowyerthere. _Ma foi_, and he could shoot you a good shoot! At Arques, sir, asyou may know, strong winds blow from the sea on one side, though 'tismiles inland, and on the other the wind cometh down the valley fromEnvermeau. Now but a little breeze will send an arrow from the mark. Aman who can shoot a good shoot from tower or wall must ever watch thewind. Now Tete-Rouge was a ship-man once, and watched wind in the mannerof use. But he could not train his men to judge a quarter-wind as he wasable. So he raised pennons like these. 'Tis but a ribbon and everybreeze moveth it, so the long-bow-men may shoot the straighter."
As he spoke the archers were fixing the thin poles in staples, whichhad been prepared for them.
"Hola!" cried Brian de Burgh, "the bastard's flag goes up." Even as hespoke a distant flourish of tuckets came down the morning wind. Theyleant out over the crenelets and strained their eyes down the hill,fenwards.
A flag hung from a tall pole, which stood before a white pavilion.
"A banneret!" said Huber. "The bastard has grown in roods and perches oflate. Can you read it for me, Master Richard?"
The squire made a funnel of his hands and gazed at the flag. "A molinecross, if I see aright," he said, "but it does not matter. Roger's flageke his coat-armour, are what he has a mind to use, not what he useth byany right of birth."
"Can'st see what they are doing out by the carts--by the edge of theorchard?"
"Yes, sir. They be working on the mantelets, and anon they will wheelthem up to protect those who would raise a palisade on the moat's edge.But come, Master Richard, we must be on the rounds. Much must be lookedto. Now look you, Sir Brian, in a siege the hoards are your defender'schief stand-by. Now we are going into each one, for it is in thosedefences that we must trust in time of attack. When your hoards arebreached, then your castle is like to fall."
He spoke with the technical assurance of a veteran--a sergeant-majorrespectfully imparting his own riper knowledge to a brace of subalterns.
The "hoards" were wooden structures, little pent-house forts, run outfrom the curtains, standing on great beams which fitted into holes inthe masonry. From behind the breastwork of thick wood the archers couldshoot with a freedom--this way and that--which was denied them by thelong oblique openings in the wall itself. They commanded all points.
The group walked out along the narrow gangway, which stretched out overthe black moat below, and entered the temporary fort of wood. It wasbuilt for the accommodation of four or five men, sharpshooters, who werepractically safe from everything but heavy artillery fire from mangoneland catapult.
They surveyed the scene before them in silence. The morning had risenclear, calm, and hot. For weeks the morning had been just as this was,and they had strolled along the battlements to catch the cool air andsharpen an early appetite. But on those other days the meadows beyondthe moat, which ran to the forest edge, had been silent and empty, savefor herds of swine and red peaceful cattle. Now, but two hundred yardsaway, scarce more than that it seemed in the clear keen air of dawn,were the tents, the dying fires, the litter and stir, of a great hostilecamp.
The lines of men, horses, and carts, stretched away right and left in along curve, till Outfangthef hid them on one side, and the gatewaytowers, with their pointed roofs, upon the other.
They could hear the trumpets, the hammers of the carpenters, a confusedshouting of orders, and the hum of active men, as the besiegers began toprepare the manifold engines of attack, which--perhaps before nightfell--would be creeping slowly towards the walls of Hilgay.
That great low shed which lay upon the ground like a monstrous tortoise,would presently creep slowly towards them, foot by foot, until itreached the edge of the moat, and the men beneath it would build theirgreat fence of logs and empty carts of rubbish into the sullen waters.
They could see men upon the sloping roofs, gradually sloping from acentral ridge, men like great flies, nailing tanned hides over thebeams. The sound of tapping hammers reached them from the work whichshould be protective of Greek fire and burning tar from above.
And against the light green of the meadow-lands, and the darker olive ofthe thick forest trees, the many colours of pennons, the glint ofsunlight upon arms, gave the animation of the scene an added quality ofpicturesqueness. How "decorative" it all was! how vivid and complete apicture! And yet how stern and sinister in meaning.
"BELLA PREMUNT HOSTILIA, DA ROBUR, FER AUXILIUM."
The soldiers were silent as they leaned out over the pent-house. Hubercrossed himself, for the chapel bell began to toll down below in thefortress.
The squires left the works and descended to the bailey. Huber remainedon the wall. From where he stood he could see all over the castle. Suchof the garrison as were not on guard or employed in active preparationstraggled slowly over the grass towards the chapel door. Some of theserfs followed, the man-at-arms could easily distinguish theircharacteristic dress.
He turned curiously pale beneath his bronze. Then his eyes turnedtowards the noble tower Outfangthef, and presently fixed themselves on alow iron door, between two buttresses, which was nearly below the levelof the yard, and must be reached by a few old mildewed steps.
His eyes remained fixed upon the archway of the door, and his facebecame full of a great gloom and horror.
The sentinels passed and re-passed him as he stared down below with setpale features. At length he turned and entered one of the hoards. Theangle of the side hid him from view of the men upon the walls.
There Huber knelt down and prayed for the serf who had saved his life onWilfrith Mere, and now lay deep down behind that iron door.
The strong man beat his
breast and bowed his head. As he prayed, withunwonted tears in his eyes, he heard the distant silver tinkle thatmeant the elevation of The Host. He bowed still lower with his handscrossed upon his breast.
For to this rugged and lonely worshipper also, the message was comingthat all men are brothers.
"_Suscipe, sancte Pater,--hanc immaculatam Hostiam_," that was whatAnselm was saying down there in the chapel; and He who heard the oneoffering would not despise the other, a broken and a contrite heart.
And so farewell to Huber.
* * * * *
In a dark place, under the ground, full of filth and rats, Hyla laydying in the crucet hus. It is not necessary to say how they had usedhim.
He was not unconscious, though now and again the brain would fly fromthe poor maimed body, but the swoon never lasted long.
In the long and awful night, in that black tomb, with no noise but thepattering of the rats, what did he think of?
I think there were two great emotions in his heart. He prayed veryearnestly to God, that he might die and be at peace, and he cried agreat deal that he could not say goodbye to Gruach. The unmarriedcannot know how bitterly a man wants his wife in trouble. Hyla keptsobbing and moaning her name all night.
The second day, though he never knew a day had gone down there, they hadbut little time to torture him, and after half an hour of unbearableagony he was left alone in silence. No one but an enormously strong mancould have lived for half as long.
Still in his brain there was no thought of martyrdom, and none of theexaltation that it might have given. Although he prayed, and believedindeed, that God heard him, his imaginative faculties were not now acuteenough to help him to any ghostly comfort. Continually he whimpered forGruach, until at length he sank into a last stupor.
At last, at the end of the afternoon, his two torturers came and unboundthe maimed thing they had made.
"It is the end now, Hyla," said one of them, "very soon and it will beover. They are all a-waiting, and my Lord Roger Bigot of Norwich hasgiven us an hour's truce, while we kill you, you dog!"
They untied the thongs, and lifted him from the cruel stones. One ofthem gave him a horn of wine, so that he might have a little strength.It revived him somewhat, and they half led, half carried him up thestairs. Up and on they went, on that last terrible journey, until thelantern, which was carried by a soldier in front of them, began to palebefore rich lights of sunset, which poured in at the loop-holes in thestairway wall.
They were climbing up Outfangthef.
The fresh airs of evening played about them. After the stench of the_oubliette_, it was like heaven to Hyla.
They passed up and up, among the chirping birds, until a littleill-fitting wooden door, through the chinks of which the light pouredlike water, showed their labour was at an end. The serf's spirits roseenormously. At last! At last! Death was at hand. At this moment ofsupreme excitement, he nerved himself to be a man. The occasion alteredhis whole demeanour. Almost by a miracle his submissive attitude droppedfrom him. His dull eyes flashed, his broken body became almost straight.The heavy, vacuous expression fled from his face never to return, andhis nostrils curved in disdain, and with pride at this thing he haddone.
It was better to be hanged on a tower like this than on the tree at thecastle gate, he thought as the little door opened.
They came out upon the platform in the full blaze of the setting sun.Far, far below, the smiling woods lay happily, and the rooks called toeach other round the tree-tops. The river wound its way into the fenlike a silver ribbon. Peace and sweetness lay over all the land.
Hyla turned his weary head and took one last look at this beautifulsunset England.
A great cheering came from below as the execution party came out on thebattlements, a fierce roar of execration.
While they were fitting his neck with the rope, Hyla looked down. Thecastle was spread below him like a map, very vivid in the bright light.Hundreds of tiny white faces were turned towards him. Outside the wallshe saw a great camp with tents and huts, among which fires were justbeing lit to cook the evening meal.
At last, on the edge of the coping they let him kneel down for prayer.Lord Fulke had not yet sounded the signal, down in the court-yard, whenthey should swing him out.
He did not pray, but looked out over the lovely countryside with keenbrave eyes. Freedom was very, very near. FREEDOM at last! The soldierscould not understand his rapt face, it frightened them. As he gazed, hiseye fell on a round tower at the far end of the defences. Down the sideof the tower a man was descending by means of a rope. Although at thisdistance he appeared quite small, something in the dress or perhaps inthe colour of the hair proclaimed it to be Lewin. The executioners sawhim also.
"God!" said one of them. "There goes our minter to Roger. The blackhound!"
He bent over the edge of the abyss and shouted frantically to the crowdbelow, but he could convey no meaning to them. The little moving figureon the wall had disappeared by now, but a group of men standing at themoat-side showed that he was expected.
Hyla saw all this with little interest. He was perfectly calm, and allhis pain had left him. Already he was at peace.
A keen blast from a trumpet sounded in the courtyard below, and camesnarling up to them.
There was a sudden movement, and then the two hosts of the besiegers andbesieged saw a black swinging figure sharply outlined against the ruddyevening sky.
Justice had been done. But may we not suppose that the death notes ofthat earthly horn swelled and grew in the poor serf's ears, pulsinglouder and more gloriously triumphant, until he knew them for the silvertrumpets of the Heralds of Heaven coming to welcome him?
Deo Gratias.
THE END
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Transcriber's Note: The oe ligature has been expanded. The punctuation and spelling is as was printed, with the exception of histor which is now history, one case of where which is now were, gentleman is now gentlemen, be is now he, someting is now something, climbling is now climbing, and seemes is now seems.
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