CHAPTER VI.
The trumpet sounded on the green beyond the walls; and by torch andlantern light the young lord and his companions mounted in the courtbefore the chapel, and rode forth to join their attendants, afterbestowing some rich gifts upon the abbey. Though the sky was notunclouded, for there were large masses of heavy vapour rollingacross the southern part of the horizon, and the night was much warmerthan that which had preceded, auguring rain to the minds of theweather-wise, yet the moon was bright and clear, displaying everyobject upon the little green as clearly almost as if it had been day.Though not very fond of deeds of darkness, young Lord Chartley perhapsmight have wished the beams of the fair planet not quite so bright. Atall events, he seemed in a great hurry to proceed upon his journey,without any very strict inspection of his band; for he exclaimed atonce--
"Now, Arden; now, Weinants; let us on at a quick canter. We shallsleep well tonight."
But the eye of Sir Charles Weinants scanned the party by the moonlightmore accurately than that of his companion; and he demanded aloud--
"Why, where is the friar?"
"He is too unwell to ride on to-night. He will follow to-morrow," saidLord Chartley, in a careless tone; and, striking his horse with thespur, he proceeded, but not before he had remarked Sir CharlesWeinants make a very particular sign to one of his own attendants. Theknight raised his finger to his lips, pointed with his thumb to theabbey, and then held up two fingers of the same hand. No sooner wasthis done than he shook his rein, and followed his companion,apparently unconscious that he had been observed.
For a minute or two the young lord seemed uneasy, riding on insilence, and frequently giving a sharp glance round to those who camebehind; but he soon recovered his equanimity, I might saycheerfulness, for he laughed and talked gaily with those around him,especially when they came to that part of the road where, passingthrough the forest, it ascended a hill so steep that the pace of thehorses was necessarily slackened. Sir Charles Weinants, for his part,joined in, with his quiet gentlemanly cheerfulness, and seemedperfectly free and unembarrassed.
The subject of their conversation, it is true, was not a very merryone; for they soon began to speak of the discovery of a dead man lyingon that very road, the night before--killed, as was supposed, by afall from his horse--an account of which they had received at theabbey, where the corpse was still lying. Light-hearted superficialman, however, rarely suffers any event which happens to his neighboursto produce any very deep or permanent impression on himself; and it iswonderful how merry that party of gentlemen made themselves with thefate of the dead man.
"See what it is to go too fast, Weinants," said Lord Chartley."Doubtless this fellow was riding a hired horse, and thought he mightride him, up hill and down dale, as hard as he liked; and so the poorbeast threw him to get rid of an unpleasant burden."
"Served him quite right, I dare say," said bluff Sir William Arden.
"Why, how can you know, Arden?" demanded Sir Edward Hungerford, whowas riding his own beast in the most delicate and approved manner ofthe times. "He might be as virtuous as an anchorite for aught youknow."
"The best man that ever lived," answered Arden, "deserves every hourto break his neck, and worse too; and there never yet was a king'scourier, which they say this was, who is not worthy of the pilloryfrom the moment he puts the livery on his back. A set of vermin. Iwish I had but the purifying of the court. You would see very fewears, or noses either, walking about the purlieus of the palace; andas for couriers, I'd set them upon horseback, and have relays of menbehind them, to flog them on from station to station, for two or threethousand miles, till they dropped off dead from fatigue andstarvation--I would indeed. They should neither have meat, nor drink,nor sleep, nor rest, till they expired."
Lord Chartley laughed, for he knew his friend well; and Sir CharlesWeinants enquired--
"Why, what do the poor wretches do, to merit such high indignation,Arden?"
"Do!" exclaimed the other. "What do they not do? Are they not thepetty tyrants of every inn and every village? Do they not thinkthemselves justified by the beastly livery they wear, to rob everyhost and every farmer, to pay for nothing that they take, to drink aleand wine gratis, to kiss the daughter, seduce the wife, and ride thehorses to death, because they are on a king's service, forsooth--outupon the whole race of them. We have not a punishment within the wholescope of our criminal law that is not too good for them."
"Hush, hush, Arden," cried Lord Chartley, laughing again; "if you donot mind, Weinants will tell the king; and it will be brought in hightreason."
"How so, how so?" demanded Sir William Arden, with a start; for thevery name of high treason was a serious affair in those days, when theaxe was seldom long polished before it was dimmed again with humanblood.
"Why, do you not know the old proverb, 'like master like man?'" askedChartley; "so that if you abuse the king's couriers you abuse the kinghimself. It seems to me constructive treason at all events. What sayyou, Hungerford?"
"Very shocking indeed," said the gentleman whom he addressed, yawningheartily; "but I hate all couriers too. They are very unsavouryfellows, give you their billets with hot hands, and bring a hideoussmell of horse flesh and boot leather into the chamber with them. Ialways order those who come to me to be kept an hour in a chillante-room, to cool and air themselves."
From the characters of all who surrounded him, Lord Chartley seemed todraw no little amusement; but still, it would appear, his eye waswatchful, and his ear too; for, when they had ridden about a coupleof miles through the wood, and were in a shady place, where the beamsof the moon did not penetrate, he suddenly reined in his horse,exclaiming--
"Some one has left the company--Hark! Who is that riding away?"
"Faith, I know not," said Sir Charles Weinants.
"I hear nobody," replied Hungerford.
"There go a horse's feet, nevertheless," cried Sir William Arden.
"Gentlemen all, have you sent any one back?" demanded the young baron,in a stern tone.
A general negative was the reply; and Chartley exclaimed--
"Then, by the Lord, I will find him. Ride on, gentlemen, ride on. Iwill overtake you soon."
"Let me come with you, my good lord," said Sir William Arden.
"No, no, I will find him, and deal with him alone," replied the younglord; and, turning his head to add--"You can wait for me at Hinckleyif you will," he spurred on sharply, on the road which led backtowards the abbey. The party whom he left remained gathered togetherfor a moment, in surprise at the rapidity and the strangeness of hismovements.
"In the name of fortune," cried Sir Edward Hungerford, "why does henot take somebody with him?"
"Every one knows his own business best," said Arden gruffly.
"Hush! hush!" said Sir Charles Weinants. "Let us hear which way hetakes."
Now at the distance of perhaps two hundred yards behind them, the roadthrough the wood divided into two; that on the left, by which they hadcome, leading direct to the abbey and its little hamlet; that on theright pursuing a somewhat circuitous course towards the small town ofAtherston. The footfalls of Lord Chartley's horse, as he urged himfuriously on, could be clearly heard as soon as Sir Charles Weinantshad done speaking; and a moment after they seemed to take a directionto the right. The party still paused and listened, however, till itbecame clear by the sounds that the young nobleman had gone upon theroad to Atherston.
Then Sir Charles Weinants drew a deep breath, and said, in an easytone: "Well, let us ride on. We can wait for him at Hinckley.Doubtless, he is safe enough."
Sir William Arden seemed to hesitate; and Lord Chartley's steward saidin a doubtful tone: "I think we ought to wait for my lord."
"You heard what he said himself," replied Sir Charles Weinants. "Ourbusiness is to go slowly on, and wait for him at Hinckley, if he doesnot overtake us by the way."
So was it in the end determined, and the party proceeded at a footpace in the direction which they had before been taking. M
ile aftermile they rode on without being overtaken by their companion, everynow and then pausing for a minute or two, to listen for his horse'sfeet, and then resuming their progress, till at length they arrived atHinckley. They entered the inn yard, just at the moment that thecarriers from Ashby de la Zouche to Northampton usually presentedthemselves with their packhorses; and they instantly had out landlordand ostlers, and all the retinue of the inn, with lanterns inabundance.
"Stay!" said Sir William Arden, as the attendants were hurrying todismount, and lead their lords' horses to the stables. "Please Heaven,we will see who it is that is wanting."
"No need of that," exclaimed Sir Charles Weinants. "We shall learnsoon enough, no doubt."
But the good knight, who was a steady campaigner, and one of the bestsoldiers of his day, adhered tenaciously to his purpose, ordered thegates of the inn-yard to be closed, and the doors of the house and ofthe stables to be shut and locked. He next insisted that the servantsshould draw up in separate bodies, the attendants of each master in adistinct line, and then made the ostlers carry their lanterns alongthe face of each.
"One of your men is wanting, Sir Charles Weinants," he said at length."It must have been he who rode away, and left his company in theforest."
"More fool, or more knave he," replied Sir Charles Weinants, coolly."He shall be punished for his pains by losing his wages. But, if I amnot mistaken, there is another wanting too. Where is Lord Chartley'sMoor? I have not seen him for some time, and do not perceive him now."
"He staid behind in the wood, Sir Charles," replied one of theservants, "to look after the noble lord. He said--let go who would, hewould stay there."
"Perhaps my man staid for the same purpose?" said Sir CharlesWeinants.
"No, sir," answered another of the servants, attached to Sir WilliamArden. "He left us some minutes before Lord Chartley, while we werestill riding on through the forest."
"Well, gentlemen, I shall remain here till my friend comes," saidArden, in a marked tone; "for I do not altogether like this affair."
"And I shall stay, because I have had riding enough for one day; andthe inn looks comfortable," said Sir Edward Hungerford.
"I shall ride on, as soon as my horses have been fed and watered,"rejoined Sir Charles Weinants, in a cold resolute tone; "because Ihave business of importance which calls me to Leicester."
His determination did not seem very pleasant to Sir William Arden, wholooked at him steadily for a moment, from under his bent brows, andthen walked once or twice up and down the court, without ordering thedoors of the stables to be opened.
Weinants, however, took that task upon himself. His horses receivedtheir food and devoured it eagerly; and then, just as the carrierswere arriving, Sir Charles Weinants rode out of the court yard,bidding his companions adieu in the most perfectly civil and courteousterms.
Sir William Arden suffered him to depart, but most unwillingly it mustbe confessed, and, when he was gone, turned to Sir Edward Hungerford,saying: "I should like to skin him alive, the cold-blooded doubledealer. It is very strange, what can have become of Lord Chartley."
"Strange!" said Sir Edward Hungerford, in a tone of affected surprise;"why, he has gone to say a few more words to that pretty girl at theabbey, to be sure. I should not wonder to see him arrive in half anhour, with the dear little thing on a pillion behind him."
"Pshaw!" said Arden. "You are a fool;" and he turned into the inn.