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The Lances of Lynwood Page 12
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CHAPTER XII
The next few days were spent in taking precautions against the dangerintimated by the mysterious message. Gaston gathered together a few ofthe ancient Lances of Lynwood, who were glad to enlist under the bluecrosslet, and these, with some men-at-arms, who had recently come toBordeaux to seek employment, formed a body with whom Eustace trusted tobe able to keep the disaffected in check. Through vineyards and overgently swelling hills did their course lead them, till, on the eveningof the second day's journey, the view to the south was shut in by morelofty and bolder peaks, rising gradually towards the Pyrenees, and onthe summit of a rock overhanging a small rapid stream appeared the talland massive towers of a Castle, surmounted by the broad red cross ofSt. George, and which their guide pronounced to be the Chateau Norbelle.
"A noble eyrie!" said Eustace, looking up and measuring it with hiseye. "Too noble to be sacrificed to the snaring of one poor Knight."
"Shame that such a knightly building should serve for such a nest oftraitors!" said Gaston. "Saving treachery, a dozen boys could keep itagainst a royal host, provided they had half the spirit of your littlenephew."
"Let us summon the said traitors," said Eustace, blowing a blast on hisbugle. The gates were thrown wide open, the drawbridge lowered, andbeneath the portcullis stood the Seneschal, his bunch of keys at hisgirdle. Both Eustace and Gaston cast searching glances upon him, andhis aspect made them for a moment doubt the truth of the warning. Apatch covered the lost eye, his moustache was shaved, his hair appearedmany shades lighter, as well as his beard, which had been carefullytrimmed, and altogether the obsequious Seneschal presented a strongcontrast to the dissolute reckless man-at-arms. The Knight debatedwith himself, whether to let him perceive that he was recognized; anddeciding 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 thewhole Duchy of Aquitaine. "Thibault Sanchez, so please you, noble Sir,a poor Squire from the mountains, who hath seen some few battles andcombats in his day, but never one equal to the fight of Najara, whereyour deeds of prowess--"
"My deeds of prowess, Sir Seneschal, had better rest in silence untilour horses have been disposed of, and I have made the rounds of theCastle before the light fails us."
"So late, Sir Knight! and after a long and weary journey? Surely youwill 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 dutiesof 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 BorgneBasque. "What vigilance! what earnestness! Ah, this will be, as Itold my comrades even now, the very school of chivalry, the pride ofthe country."
They had by this time crossed the narrow court, and passing beneath asecond portcullised door defended on either side by high battlementwalls, nearly double as thick as the steps themselves were wide. Atthe head was an arched door, heavily studded with nails, and openinginto the Castle hall, a gloomy, vaulted room, its loop-hole windows, intheir mighty depth of wall, affording little light. A large wood firewas burning in the hearth, and its flame cast a bright red light onsome suits of armour that were hung at one end of the hall, as well ason some benches, and a long table in the midst, where were placed sometrenchers, drinking horns, and a flask or two of wine.
"A drop of wine, noble Knight," said the Seneschal. "Take a cup torecruit you after your journey, and wash the dust from your throat."
A long ride in full armour beneath the sun of Gascony made this nounacceptable proposal, but the probability that the wine might bedrugged had been contemplated by Eustace, who had not only resolved toabstain 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, onlyaccepting 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 waterfrom the pitcher and refreshed himself with it. Gaston followed hisexample, not without a wistful look at the wine, and Sanchez wasobliged to lead the way up a long flight of spiral steps to two othervaulted apartments, one over the other--the lower destined for thesleeping chamber of the Knight and his Squire, the higher for such ofthe men-at-arms as could not find accommodation in the hall, or in theoffices below. Above this they came out on the lead-covered roof,surrounded with a high crenellated stone parapet, where two or threewarders were stationed. Still higher rose one small octagonalwatch-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 lookforth upon the glorious expanse of country beneath him--the rich fieldsand fair vineyards spreading far away to the west and north, with townsand villages here and there rising among them; while far away to theeast, among higher hills, lay the French town of Carcassonne, a whitemass, just discernible by the light of the setting sun; and the southwas bounded by the peaks of the Pyrenees, amongst which lay allEustace's brightest recollections of novelty, adventure, and hopes ofglory.
Descending the stairs once more, after traversing the hall, they foundthemselves 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 thefoot of the stairs, which was capable of being defended even after theouter court was won. By the time the new-comers had made themselvesacquainted with these localities, the evening was fast closing in, andSanchez pronounced that the Knight's survey was concluded in good timefor supper.
"I have not yet seen the vaults," said Eustace.
"The vaults, Sir Knight! what would you see there, save a few rustedchains, and some whitened bones, that have been there ever since thedays of the Count de Montfort and the heretic Albigenses! They saythat their accursed spirits haunt the place."
"I have heard," returned Sir Eustace, "that these Castles of Gasconyare said to have secret passages communicating with their vaults, and Iwould willingly satisfy my own eyes that we are exposed to no suchperil here."
"Nay, not a man in the Castle will enter those vaults after sunset, SirKnight. 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 thestone arches on which the Castle rested, and there was a chill damp airand earthy smell, which made both Knight and Squire shudder and start.No sooner had they entered than Thibault, trembling exclaimed, in atone of horror, "There! there! O blessed Lady, protect us!"
"Where?" asked Eustace, scarce able to defend himself from animpression of terror.
"'Tis gone--yet methought I saw it again.--There! look yonder, SirKnight--something white fluttering behind that column!"
Gaston crossed himself, and turned pale; but Eustace had settled hisnerves. "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 asmuch as this sobriquet. He fell back, and subsided into completesilence, as he meditated whether it were best to confess the plot, andthrow himself upon Sir Eustace's mercy, or whether he could hope thatthis was merely a chance recognition. He inclined to the latter beliefwhen he observed that the Knight was at fault respecting the secretpassage, searching in vain through every part of the vault, and twicepassing over the very spot. The third time, however, it so chancedthat his spur rung against something of metal, and he called for Gastonto hold his torch lower. The light fell not only upon an iron ring,but upon a guard which evident
ly covered a key-hole.
Sanchez, after in vain professing great amazement, and perfectignorance of any such entrance, gave up his bunch of keys, protestingthat there was nothing there which could unlock the mysterious door:but the Knight had another method. "Look you, Master Sanchez," saidhe, "it may be, as you say, that this door hath not been unclosed forhundreds of years, notwithstanding I see traces in the dust as if ithad been raised of late. I shall, however, sleep more securely ifconvinced that it is an impossibility to lift it. Go, therefore,Gaston, and call half a dozen of the men, to bring each of them theheaviest stone they can find from that heap I saw prepared for amangonel 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 hismaster alone with this villain. Eustace replied by drawing his goodsword, and giving him a fearless smile, as he planted his foot upon thetrap-door; and fixing his gaze upon Le Borgne Basque, made him feelthat this was no moment for treachery.
Gaston sped fast out of the dungeon, and, in brief space, made hisappearance at the head of the men-at-arms, some bearing torches, otherslabouring under the weight of the huge stones, which, as he rightlythought, they were far more inclined to heave at Sir Eustace's headthan to place in the spot he pointed out. They were, however,compelled to obey, and, with unwilling hands, built up such a pile uponthe secret door, that it could not be lifted from beneath withoutgigantic 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 hisintention of relieving him for the future from the care of the keys.Still watching him closely, he ascended to the hall, and gave thesignal for the supper, which shortly made its appearance.
Thibault Sanchez, who laid claim to some share of gentle blood, waspermitted to enjoy the place of honour together with Sir Eustace andd'Aubricour--the rather that it gave them a better opportunity ofkeeping their eye upon him.
There was an evident attempt, on the part of the garrison, to engagetheir new comrades in a carouse in honour of their arrival, but thiswas brought to an abrupt conclusion by Sir Eustace, who, in a tonewhich admitted no reply, ordered the wine flasks to the buttery, andthe men, some to their posts and others to their beds. Ingram walkedoff, muttering his discontent; and great was the ill-will excitedamongst, not only the original garrison, but the new-comers fromBordeaux, who, from their lairs of straw, lamented the day when theytook service with so severe and rigid a Knight, and compared hisdiscipline with that of his brother, Sir Reginald, who, strict as hemight be, never grudged a poor man-at-arms a little merriment. "But asto this Knight, one might as well serve a Cistercian monk!"
As to Le Borgne Basque, he betook himself to the buttery; and there, inan 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! SirLeonard Ashton was right--oaf as he was; I never believed him before;but what, save enchantment, could have enabled him to recognize meunder 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 ashe is, I trow he has sense enough to keep his own counsel. He has notforgotten the day when he saw this dainty young sprig rise up in hisgolden spurs before his eyes. I know how it is! It is with him as itwas with the Lord of Corasse!"
"How was that, Thibault?"
"Why, you must know that Raymond de Corasse had helped himself to thetithes of a certain Church in Catalonia, whereby the Priest who claimedthem said to him, 'Know that I will send thee a champion that thou wiltbe more afraid of than thou hast hitherto been of me.' Three monthsafter, each night, in the Castle of Corasse, began such turmoil asnever was known; raps at every door, and especially that of theKnight--as if all the goblins in fairy-land had been let loose. TheKnight lay silent all one night; but the next, when the rioting wasrenewed as loud as ever, he leapt out of his bed, and bawled out, 'Whois 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 Clerkof Catalonia, whom thou hast much wronged. I will never leave theequiet until thou hast rendered him a just account.' 'What art thoucalled,' said the Knight, 'who art so good a messenger?' 'Orthon is myname.' But it fell out otherwise from the Clerk's intentions, forOrthon had taken a liking to the Knight, and promised to serve himrather 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 theKnight'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 sawaught; for Orthon only came by night, and, having wakened him, wouldbegin by saying, 'he was come from England, Hungary, or elsewhere,' andtelling 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, whenhe had much marveled at the tidings that were brought him by the Lordde Corasse, and had heard of the strange messenger who brought them.He entreated the Knight to desire Orthon to show himself in his ownproper form--and then, having seen, to describe him.
"So at night, when Orthon came again, and plucked away the pillow, theKnight asked him from whence he came? 'From Prague, in Bohemia,'answered Orthon. 'How far is it?'--'Sixty days' journey.' 'Hast thoureturned thence in so short a time?'--'I travel as fast as the wind, orfaster.' 'What! hast thou got wings?'--'Oh, no.' 'How, then, canstthou fly so fast?'--'That is no business of yours!' 'No,' said theKnight--'I should like exceedingly to see what form thou hast.'--'Thatconcerns you not,' replied Orthon; 'be satisfied that you hear me.' 'Ishould love thee better had I seen thee,' said the Knight,--whereuponOrthon promised that the first thing he should see to-morrow, onquitting his bed, should be no other than himself."
"Ha! then, I wager that he saw one of the black cats that played roundyoung Ashton's bed."
"Nay, the Knight's lady would not rise all day lest she should seeOrthon; but the Knight, leaping up in the morning, looked about, butcould see nothing unusual. At night, when Orthon came, he reproachedhim for not having shown himself, as he had promised. 'I have,' repliedOrthon. 'I say No,' said the Knight. 'What! you saw nothing when youleapt out of bed?'--'Yes,' said the Lord de Corasse, after havingconsidered awhile, 'I saw two straws, which were turning and playingtogether on the floor.' 'That was myself,' said Orthon.
"The Knight now desired importunately that Orthon would show himself inhis own true shape. Orthon told him that it might lead to his beingforced to quit his service--but he persisted, and Orthon promised toshow himself when first the Knight should leave his chamber in themorning. Therefore, as soon as he was dressed, the Knight went to awindow overlooking the court, and there he beheld nothing but a largelean sow, so poor, that she seemed nothing but skin and bone, with longhanging ears, all spotted, and a thin sharp-pointed snout. The Lord deCorasse called to his servants to set the dogs on the ill-favouredcreature, and kill it; but, as the kennel was opened, the sow vanishedaway, and was never seen afterwards. Then the Lord de Corasse returnedpensive to his chamber, fearing that the sow had indeed beenOrthon!--and truly Orthon never returned more to his bed-side. Withina year, the Knight was dead!"
"Is it true, think you, Sanchez?"
"True! why, man, I have seen the Chateau de Corasse, seven leagues fromOrthes!"
"And what think you was Orthon?"
"It is not for me to say; but, you see, there are some who stand fairin men's eyes, who have strange means of gaining intelligence! It willbe a merit to weigh down a score of rifled Priests, if we can butcircumvent a wizard such as this!"
"But he has brought his books! I saw that broad-faced Englishman carryup a whole pile of them," cried Tristan, turning pale. "With his bookshe will be enough to conjure u
s all into apes!"
"Now or never," said Sanchez, encouragingly.
"When all is still, I will go round and waken our comrades, while youcreep forth by the hole beneath the bartizan, and warn Clisson that thesecret passage is nought, but that when he sees a light in oldMontfort's turret--"
Tristan suddenly trod on his foot, as a sign of silence, as a stepdescended the stairs, and Sir Eustace stood before them.
"You appear to be agreeably employed, gentlemen," said he, glancing atthe stoup of wine which was before them; "but my orders are as preciseas Norman William's. No lights in this Castle, save my own, aftereight o'clock. To your beds, gentlemen, and a good night to you!" Hewas still fully armed, so that it was unsafe to attack him. And he sawthem up the spiral stairs that led from the hall, and watched thementer the narrow dens that served them as sleeping rooms, where many acurse was uttered on the watchfulness of the wizard Knight. At theturn of midnight, Le Borgne Basque crept forth, in some hope that theremight be an opportunity of fulfilling his designs, and earning thereward promised him both by Clarenham and the French. But he had notdescended far before a red gleam of torchlight was seen on the darkstairs, and, ere he could retreat, the black head and dark eyes ofGaston appeared, glancing with mischievous amusement, as he said, inhis gay voice, "You are on the alert, my old comrade. You have notforgotten your former habits when in command here. But Sir Eustaceintrusts the care of changing the guard to none but me; so I will nottrouble you to disturb yourself another night." And the baffledmiscreant retreated.
In this manner passed day after day, in a tacit yet perpetual warbetween the Knight and the garrison. Not a step could be taken, scarcea word spoken, without some instant reminder that either Sir Eustace orGaston was on the watch. On the borders of the enemy's country, therewas so much reason for vigilance, that the garrison could notreasonably complain of the services required of them; the perpetualwatch, and numerous guards; the occupations which Knight and Squireseemed never weary of devising for the purpose of keeping themseparate, and their instant prohibition of any attempt at the riotousfestivity which was their only consolation for the want of activeexercises. They grew heartily weary, and fiercely impatient ofrestraint, and though the firm, calm, steady strictness of the Knightwas far preferable to the rude familiarity and furious passions of manya Castellane, there were many of the men-at-arms who, though notactually engaged in the conspiracy, were impatient of what they calledhis haughtiness and rigidity. These men were mercenaries fromdifferent parts of France, accustomed to a lawless life, and caringlittle or nothing whatever whether it were beneath the standard of KingCharles or King Edward that they acquired pay and plunder. TheEnglishmen were, of course, devoted to their King and Prince, andthough at times unruly, were completely to be depended upon. Yet,while owning Sir Eustace to be a brave, gallant, and kind-heartedKnight, there were times when even they felt a shudder of dread andalmost of hatred pass over them, when tales were told of thesupernatural powers he was supposed to possess; when Leonard Ashton'sadventure with the cats was narrated, or the story of his suddenarrival at Lynwood Keep on the night before the lady's funeral. Hisown immediate attendants might repel the charge with honestindignation, but many a stout warrior slunk off in terror to bed fromthe sight of Sir Eustace, turning the pages of one of his heavy booksby the light of the hall fire, and saw in each poor bat that flittedabout within the damp depths of the vaulted chambers the familiarspirit which brought him exact intelligence of all that passed atBordeaux, at Paris, or in London. Nay, if he only turned his eyes onthe ground, he was thought to be looking for the twisting straws.