Books: The Lances Of Lynwood
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Charlotte M. Yonge >> The Lances Of Lynwood
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"Let us hear, then," said Eustace.
"Well, then," said Arthur, who had by this time collected himself,
"you must know that this Chateau Norbelle is one of those built
by that famous Paladin, the chief of freebooters, Sir Renaud de
Montauban, of whom you have told me so many tales. Now all of
these have secret passages in the vaults communicating with the
outer country."
"The boy is right," said Gaston; "I have seen one of them in the
Castle of Montauban itself."
"Then it seems," proceeded Arthur, "that this Castle hath hitherto
been in the keeping of a certain one-eyed Seneschal, a great friend
and comrade of Sir Leonard Ashton--"
"Le Borgne Basque!" exclaimed both Knight and Squire, looking at
each other in amaze.
"True, true," said Arthur. "Now you believe me. Well, the enemy
being in the neighbourhood, it was thought right to increase the
garrison, and place it under the command of a Knight, and these
cowardly traitors have wrought with my Lord of Pembroke and Sir
John Chandos to induce the Prince to give you this post--it being
their intention that this wicked Seneschal and his equally wicked
garrison should admit Sir Oliver de Clisson, the butcher of Bretagne
himself, through the secret passage. And, uncle," said the boy,
pressing Eustace's hand, while tears of indignation sprang to his
eyes, "the letter expressly said there was to be no putting to
ransom. Oh, Uncle Eustace, go not to this Castle!"
"And how came you by this knowledge?" asked the Knight.
"That I may never tell," said Arthur.
"By no means which might not beseem the son of a brave man?" said
Eustace.
"Mistrust me not so foully," said the boy. "I know it from a sure
hand, and there is not dishonour, save on the part of those villain
traitors. Oh, promise me, fair uncle, not to put yourself in their
hands!"
"Arthur, I have taken the oaths to the Prince as Castellane. I
cannot go back from my duty, nor give up its defence for any cause
whatsoever."
"Alas! alas!"
"There would be only one way of avoiding it," said Eustace, "and you
must yourself say, Arthur, whether that is open to me. To go to the
Prince, and tell him openly what use is made of his Castles, and
impeach the villains of their treachery."
"That cannot be," said Arthur, shaking his head sadly--"it is
contrary to the pledge I gave for you and for myself. But go not,
go not, uncle. Remember, uncle, if you will not take thought for
yourself, that you are all that is left me--all that stands between
me and that wicked Clarenham.--Gaston, persuade him."
"Gaston would never persuade me to disgrace my spurs for the sake
of danger," replied Eustace. "Have you no better learnt the laws
of chivalry in the Prince's household, Arthur? Besides, remember
old Ralph's proverb, 'Fore-warned is fore-armed.' Think you not
that Gaston, and honest Ingram, and I may not be a match for a
dozen cowardly traitors? Besides which, see here the gold allotted
me to raise more men, with which I will obtain some honest hearts
for my defence--and it will go hard with me if I cannot find Sir
Renaud's secret door."
"Then, if you will go, uncle, take, take me with you--I could, at
least, watch the door; and I know how to hit a mark with a cross-
bow as well as Lord Harry of Lancaster himself."
"Take you, Master Arthur? What! steal away the Prince's page that
I have been at such pains to bring hither, and carry him to a nest
of traitors! Why, it would be the very way to justify Clarenham's
own falsehoods."
"And of the blackest are they!" said Arthur. "Think, uncle, of my
standing by to hear him breathing his poison to the Prince, and the
preventing him from searching to find out the truth, by pretending a
regard for my father's name, and your character. Oh that our noble
Prince should be deluded by such a recreant, and think scorn of such
a Knight as you!"
"I trust yet to prove to him that it is a delusion," said Eustace.
"Many a Knight at twenty-two has yet to make his name and fame.
Mine, thanks to Du Guesclin and the Prince himself, is already made,
and though clouded for a time, with the grace of our Lady and of St.
Eustace, I will yet clear it; so, Arthur, be not downcast for me,
but think what Father Cyril hath taught concerning evil report and
good report. But tell me, how came you hither?"
"She--that is, the person that warned me--let me down from the window
upon the head of the great gurgoyle, and from thence I scrambled down
by the vines on the wall, ran through the court without being seen by
the Squires and grooms, and found my way to the bridge, where happily
I met John Ingram, who brought me hither."
"She?" repeated Gaston, with a sly look in his black eyes.
"I have said too much," said Arthur, colouring deeply; "I pray you to
forget."
"Forget!" proceeded the Squire, "that is sooner said than done. We
shall rack our brains to guess what lady can--"
"Hush, Gaston," said Eustace, as his nephew looked at him imploringly,
"tempt not the boy. And you, Arthur, must return to the palace
immediately."
"Oh, uncle!" said the boy, "may I not stay with you this one night?
It is eight weary months since I have ever seen you, save by peering
down through the tall balusters of the Princess's balcony, when the
Knights were going to dinner in the hall, and I hoped you would keep
me with you at least one night. See how late and dark it is--the
Castle gates will be closed by this time."
"It does indeed rejoice my heart to have you beside me, fair nephew,"
said Eustace, "and yet I know not how to favour such an escape as this,
even for such a cause."
"I never broke out of bounds before," said Arthur, "and never will,
though Lord Harry and Lord Thomas Holland have more than once asked
me to join them."
"Then," said the Knight, "since it is, as you say, too late to rouse
the palace, I will take you back in my hand to-morrow morn, see the
master of the Damoiseaux, and pray him to excuse you for coming to
see me ere my departure."
"Yes, that will be all well," said Arthur; "I could, to be sure,
find the corner where Lord Harry has loosened the stones, and get
in by the pages' window, ere old Master Michael is awake in the
morn; but I think such doings are more like those of a fox than
of a brave boy, and though I should be well punished, I will walk
in at the door, and hold up my head boldly."
"Shall you be punished then?" said Gaston. "Is your old master of
the Damoiseaux very severe?"
"He has not been so hitherto with me," said Arthur: "he scolds me for
little, save what you too are displeased with, Master d'Aubricour,
because I cannot bring my mouth to speak your language in your own
fashion. It is Lord Harry that chiefly falls under his displeasure.
But punished now I shall assuredly be, unless Uncle Eustace can work
wonders."
"I will see what may be done, Arthur," said Eustace. "And now, have
you supped?"
The evening passed off very happily to the little page, who, quite
reassured by his uncle's consolations, only thought of the delight
of being with one who seemed to supply to him the place at once of
an elder brother and of a father.
Early the next morning, Eustace walked with him to the palace. Just
before he reached it, he made this inquiry, "Arthur, do you often see
the Lady Agnes de Clarenham?"
"Oh, yes, I am with her almost every afternoon. She hears me read,
she helps me with my French words, and teaches me courtly manners.
I am her own page and servant--but, here we are. This is the door
that leads to the room of Master Michael de Sancy, the master of
the Damoiseaux."
CHAPTER XII
The next few days were spent in taking precautions against the
danger intimated by the mysterious message. Gaston gathered
together a few of the ancient Lances of Lynwood, who were glad to
enlist under the blue crosslet, and these, with some men-at-arms,
who had recently come to Bordeaux to seek employment, formed a body
with whom Eustace trusted to be able to keep the disaffected in
check. Through vineyards and over gently swelling hills did their
course lead them, till, on the evening of the second day's journey,
the view to the south was shut in by more lofty and bolder peaks,
rising gradually towards the Pyrenees, and on the summit of a rock
overhanging a small rapid stream appeared the tall and massive
towers of a Castle, surmounted by the broad red cross of St. George,
and which their guide pronounced to be the Chateau Norbelle.
"A noble eyrie!" said Eustace, looking up and measuring it with his
eye. "Too noble to be sacrificed to the snaring of one poor Knight."
"Shame that such a knightly building should serve for such a nest
of traitors!" said Gaston. "Saving treachery, a dozen boys could
keep it against a royal host, provided they had half the spirit of
your little nephew."
"Let us summon the said traitors," said Eustace, blowing a blast on
his bugle. The gates were thrown wide open, the drawbridge lowered,
and beneath the portcullis stood the Seneschal, his bunch of keys at
his girdle. Both Eustace and Gaston cast searching glances upon him,
and his aspect made them for a moment doubt the truth of the warning.
A patch covered the lost eye, his moustache was shaved, his hair
appeared many shades lighter, as well as his beard, which had been
carefully trimmed, and altogether the obsequious Seneschal presented
a strong contrast to the dissolute reckless man-at-arms. The Knight
debated with himself, whether to let him perceive that he was
recognized; and deciding to watch his conduct, he asked by what
name to address him.
"Thibault Sanchez," replied Le Borgne Basque, giving his real name,
which he might safely do, as it was not known to above two men in the
whole Duchy of Aquitaine. "Thibault Sanchez, so please you, noble
Sir, a poor Squire from the mountains, who hath seen some few battles
and combats in his day, but never one equal to the fight of Najara,
where your deeds of prowess--"
"My deeds of prowess, Sir Seneschal, had better rest in silence until
our horses have been disposed of, and I have made the rounds of the
Castle before the light fails us."
"So late, Sir Knight! and after a long and weary journey? Surely
you will drink a cup of wine, and take a night's rest first, relying
on me, who, though I be a plain man, trust I understand somewhat of
the duties of mine office."
"I sleep not until I have learnt what is committed to my charge,"
replied the Knight. "Lead the way, Master Sanchez."
"Ah! there is what it is to have a Knight of fame," cried Le Borgne
Basque. "What vigilance! what earnestness! Ah, this will be, as I
told my comrades even now, the very school of chivalry, the pride of
the country."
They had by this time crossed the narrow court, and passing beneath
a second portcullised door defended on either side by high battlement
walls, nearly double as thick as the steps themselves were wide. At
the head was an arched door, heavily studded with nails, and opening
into the Castle hall, a gloomy, vaulted room, its loop-hole windows,
in their mighty depth of wall, affording little light. A large wood
fire was burning in the hearth, and its flame cast a bright red light
on some suits of armour that were hung at one end of the hall, as
well as on some benches, and a long table in the midst, where were
placed some trenchers, drinking horns, and a flask or two of wine.
"A drop of wine, noble Knight," said the Seneschal. "Take a cup to
recruit you after your journey, and wash the dust from your throat."
A long ride in full armour beneath the sun of Gascony made this no
unacceptable proposal, but the probability that the wine might be
drugged had been contemplated by Eustace, who had not only resolved
to abstain himself, but had exacted the same promise from d'Aubricour,
sorely against his will.
"We will spare your flasks till a time of need," said Eustace, only
accepting the basin of fair water presented to him to lave his hands.
"And now to the walls," he added, after he had filled a cup with water
from the pitcher and refreshed himself with it. Gaston followed his
example, not without a wistful look at the wine, and Sanchez was
obliged to lead the way up a long flight of spiral steps to two other
vaulted apartments, one over the other--the lower destined for the
sleeping chamber of the Knight and his Squire, the higher for such
of the men-at-arms as could not find accommodation in the hall, or
in the offices below. Above this they came out on the lead-covered
roof, surrounded with a high crenellated stone parapet, where two or
three warders were stationed. Still higher rose one small octagonal
watch-tower, on the summit of which was planted a spear bearing St.
George's pennon, and by its side Sir Eustace now placed his own.
This done, Eustace could not help standing for a few moments to
look forth upon the glorious expanse of country beneath him--the
rich fields and fair vineyards spreading far away to the west and
north, with towns and villages here and there rising among them;
while far away to the east, among higher hills, lay the French
town of Carcassonne, a white mass, just discernible by the light
of the setting sun; and the south was bounded by the peaks of the
Pyrenees, amongst which lay all Eustace's brightest recollections
of novelty, adventure, and hopes of glory.
Descending the stairs once more, after traversing the hall, they
found themselves in the kitchen, where a large supper was preparing.
Here, too, was the buttery, some other small chambers fit for
storehouses, and some stalls for horses, all protected by the great
bartizan at the foot of the stairs, which was capable of being
defended even after the outer court was won. By the time the new-
comers had made themselves acquainted with these localities, the
evening was fast closing in, and Sanchez pronounced that the Knight's
survey was concluded in good time for supper.
"I have not yet seen the vaults," said Eustace.
"The vaults, Sir Knight! what would you see there, save a few rusted
chains, and some whitened bones, that have been there ever since the
days of the Count de Montfort and the heretic Albigenses! They say
that their accursed spirits haunt the place."
"I have heard," returned Sir Eustace, "that these Castles of Gascony
are said to have secret passages communicating with their vaults,
and I would willingly satisfy my own eyes that we are exposed to
no such peril here."
"Nay, not a man in the Castle will enter those vaults after sunset,
Sir Knight. The Albigenses, Sir Eustace!"
"I will take the risk alone," said Eustace. "Hand me a torch there!"
Gaston took another, and Thibault Sanchez, seeing them so resolute,
chose to be of the party. The torches shed their red glare over
the stone arches on which the Castle rested, and there was a chill
damp air and earthy smell, which made both Knight and Squire shudder
and start. No sooner had they entered than Thibault, trembling
exclaimed, in a tone of horror, "There! there! O blessed Lady,
protect us!"
"Where?" asked Eustace, scarce able to defend himself from an
impression of terror.
"'Tis gone--yet methought I saw it again.--There! look yonder, Sir
Knight--something white fluttering behind that column!"
Gaston crossed himself, and turned pale; but Eustace had settled
his nerves. "A truce with these vain follies, Master Seneschal,"
said he, sternly. "Those who know Le Borgne Basque cannot believe
his fears, either of saints or demons, to be other than assumed."
No ghost could have startled the Seneschal of the Chateau Norbelle
as much as this sobriquet. He fell back, and subsided into complete
silence, as he meditated whether it were best to confess the plot,
and throw himself upon Sir Eustace's mercy, or whether he could hope
that this was merely a chance recognition. He inclined to the latter
belief when he observed that the Knight was at fault respecting the
secret passage, searching in vain through every part of the vault,
and twice passing over the very spot. The third time, however, it so
chanced that his spur rung against something of metal, and he called
for Gaston to hold his torch lower. The light fell not only upon an
iron ring, but upon a guard which evidently covered a key-hole.
Sanchez, after in vain professing great amazement, and perfect
ignorance of any such entrance, gave up his bunch of keys, protesting
that there was nothing there which could unlock the mysterious door:
but the Knight had another method. "Look you, Master Sanchez," said
he, "it may be, as you say, that this door hath not been unclosed for
hundreds of years, notwithstanding I see traces in the dust as if it
had been raised of late. I shall, however, sleep more securely if
convinced that it is an impossibility to lift it. Go, therefore,
Gaston, and call half a dozen of the men, to bring each of them the
heaviest stone they can find from that heap I saw prepared for a
mangonel in the court-yard."
"Oh, excellent!" exclaimed Gaston, "and yet, Sir Eustace--"
There he stopped, but it was evident that he was reluctant to leave
his master alone with this villain. Eustace replied by drawing his
good sword, and giving him a fearless smile, as he planted his foot
upon the trap-door; and fixing his gaze upon Le Borgne Basque, made
him feel that this was no moment for treachery.
Gaston sped fast out of the dungeon, and, in brief space, made his
appearance at the head of the men-at-arms, some bearing torches,
others labouring under the weight of the huge stones, which, as he
rightly thought, they were far more inclined to heave at Sir Eustace's
head than to place in the spot he pointed out. They were, however,
compelled to obey, and, with unwilling hands, built up such a pile
upon the secret door, that it could not be lifted from beneath
without gigantic strength, and a noise which would re-echo through
the Castle. This done, Sir Eustace watched them all out of the
vault himself, closed the door, locked it, and announced to the
Seneschal his intention of relieving him for the future from the
care of the keys. Still watching him closely, he ascended to the
hall, and gave the signal for the supper, which shortly made its
appearance.
Thibault Sanchez, who laid claim to some share of gentle blood, was
permitted to enjoy the place of honour together with Sir Eustace and
d'Aubricour--the rather that it gave them a better opportunity of
keeping their eye upon him.
There was an evident attempt, on the part of the garrison, to engage
their new comrades in a carouse in honour of their arrival, but this
was brought to an abrupt conclusion by Sir Eustace, who, in a tone
which admitted no reply, ordered the wine flasks to the buttery, and
the men, some to their posts and others to their beds. Ingram walked
off, muttering his discontent; and great was the ill-will excited
amongst, not only the original garrison, but the new-comers from
Bordeaux, who, from their lairs of straw, lamented the day when
they took service with so severe and rigid a Knight, and compared
his discipline with that of his brother, Sir Reginald, who, strict
as he might be, never grudged a poor man-at-arms a little merriment.
"But as to this Knight, one might as well serve a Cistercian monk!"
As to Le Borgne Basque, he betook himself to the buttery; and there,
in an undertone of great terror, began to mutter to his friend and
ally, Tristan de la Fleche, "It is all over with us! He is a wizard!
Sir Leonard Ashton was right--oaf as he was; I never believed him
before; but what, save enchantment, could have enabled him to
recognize me under this disguise, or how could he have gone straight
to yonder door?"
"Think you not that he had some warning?" asked Tristan.
"Impossible, save from Clarenham, or from Ashton himself; and, dolt
as he is, I trow he has sense enough to keep his own counsel. He
has not forgotten the day when he saw this dainty young sprig rise
up in his golden spurs before his eyes. I know how it is! It is
with him as it was with the Lord of Corasse!"
"How was that, Thibault?"
"Why, you must know that Raymond de Corasse had helped himself to
the tithes of a certain Church in Catalonia, whereby the Priest who
claimed them said to him, 'Know that I will send thee a champion
that thou wilt be more afraid of than thou hast hitherto been of
me.' Three months after, each night, in the Castle of Corasse,
began such turmoil as never was known; raps at every door, and
especially that of the Knight--as if all the goblins in fairy-land
had been let loose. The Knight lay silent all one night; but the
next, when the rioting was renewed as loud as ever, he leapt out
of his bed, and bawled out, 'Who is it at this hour thus knocks at
my chamber door?' He was answered, 'It is I.' 'And who sends thee
hither?' asked the Knight. 'The Clerk of Catalonia, whom thou hast
much wronged. I will never leave thee quiet until thou hast rendered
him a just account.' 'What art thou called,' said the Knight, 'who
art so good a messenger?' 'Orthon is my name.' But it fell out
otherwise from the Clerk's intentions, for Orthon had taken a liking
to the Knight, and promised to serve him rather than the Clerk--
engaging never to disturb the Castle--for, indeed, he had no power
to do ill to any. Often did he come to the Knight's bed by night,
and pull the pillow from under his head--"
"What was he like?" asked Tristan.
"The Lord de Corasse could not tell; he only heard him--he never saw
aught; for Orthon only came by night, and, having wakened him, would
begin by saying, 'he was come from England, Hungary, or elsewhere,'
and telling all the news of the place."
"And what think you was he?"
"That was what our Lord, the Count de Foix, would fain have known,
when he had much marveled at the tidings that were brought him by
the Lord de Corasse, and had heard of the strange messenger who
brought them. He entreated the Knight to desire Orthon to show
himself in his own proper form--and then, having seen, to describe
him.
"So at night, when Orthon came again, and plucked away the pillow,
the Knight asked him from whence he came? 'From Prague, in Bohemia,'
answered Orthon. 'How far is it?'--'Sixty days' journey.' 'Hast
thou returned thence in so short a time?'--'I travel as fast as the
wind, or faster.' 'What! hast thou got wings?'--'Oh, no.' 'How,
then, canst thou fly so fast?'--'That is no business of yours!'
'No,' said the Knight--'I should like exceedingly to see what form
thou hast.'--'That concerns you not,' replied Orthon; 'be satisfied
that you hear me.' 'I should love thee better had I seen thee,'
said the Knight,--whereupon Orthon promised that the first thing
he should see to-morrow, on quitting his bed, should be no other
than himself."
"Ha! then, I wager that he saw one of the black cats that played
round young Ashton's bed."
"Nay, the Knight's lady would not rise all day lest she should see
Orthon; but the Knight, leaping up in the morning, looked about,
but could see nothing unusual. At night, when Orthon came, he
reproached him for not having shown himself, as he had promised.
'I have,' replied Orthon. 'I say No,' said the Knight. 'What!
you saw nothing when you leapt out of bed?'--'Yes,' said the Lord
de Corasse, after having considered awhile, 'I saw two straws,
which were turning and playing together on the floor.' 'That was
myself,' said Orthon.
"The Knight now desired importunately that Orthon would show himself
in his own true shape. Orthon told him that it might lead to his
being forced to quit his service--but he persisted, and Orthon
promised to show himself when first the Knight should leave his
chamber in the morning. Therefore, as soon as he was dressed, the
Knight went to a window overlooking the court, and there he beheld
nothing but a large lean sow, so poor, that she seemed nothing but
skin and bone, with long hanging ears, all spotted, and a thin
sharp-pointed snout. The Lord de Corasse called to his servants
to set the dogs on the ill-favoured creature, and kill it; but, as
the kennel was opened, the sow vanished away, and was never seen
afterwards. Then the Lord de Corasse returned pensive to his
chamber, fearing that the sow had indeed been Orthon!--and truly
Orthon never returned more to his bed-side. Within a year, the
Knight was dead!"
"Is it true, think you, Sanchez?"
"True! why, man, I have seen the Chateau de Corasse, seven leagues
from Orthes!"
"And what think you was Orthon?"
"It is not for me to say; but, you see, there are some who stand
fair in men's eyes, who have strange means of gaining intelligence!
It will be a merit to weigh down a score of rifled Priests, if we
can but circumvent a wizard such as this!"
"But he has brought his books! I saw that broad-faced Englishman
carry up a whole pile of them," cried Tristan, turning pale. "With
his books he will be enough to conjure us all into apes!"
"Now or never," said Sanchez, encouragingly.
"When all is still, I will go round and waken our comrades, while
you creep forth by the hole beneath the bartizan, and warn Clisson
that the secret passage is nought, but that when he sees a light
in old Montfort's turret--"
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