The Lances of Lynwood Read online

  CHAPTER XIII

  There was a village at some distance from the Chateau Norbelle, theinhabitants of which were required to furnish it with provisions. TheCastellane, by paying just prices, and preventing his men from treatingthe peasants in the cruel and exacting manner to which they wereaccustomed, had gained their good-will. Prompt intelligence of theproceedings of the French army was always brought to him, and he wasthus informed that a large treasure was on its way from Bayonne toCarcasonne, being the subsidy promised by Enrique, King of Castile, tohis allies, Bertrand du Guesclin and Oliver de Clisson.

  It became the duty of the English to intercept these supplies, andEustace knew that he should incur censure should he allow the occasionto pass. But how divide his garrison? Which of the men-at-arms couldbe relied on? After consultation with d'Aubricour, it was determinedthat he himself should remain with John Ingram and a sufficient numberof English to keep the traitors in check, while Gaston went forth incommand of the party, who were certain to fight with a good will wherespoil was the object. They would be absent at least two nights, sincethe pass of the Pyrenees, where they intended to lie in ambush, was ata considerable distance, nor was the time of the arrival of the convoyabsolutely certain.

  The expedition proved completely successful, and on the morning of thethird day the rising sun beheld Gaston d'Aubricour riding triumphantlyat the head of his little band, in the midst of which was a long lineof heavily-laden baggage mules. The towers of Chateau Norbelleappeared in his view, when suddenly with a cry of amazement heperceived that the pennon of St. George and the banner of Lynwood wereboth absent from the Keep. He could scarcely believe his eyes, butforcing his horse onward with furious impetuosity to obtain a nearerview, he discovered that it was indeed true.

  "The miscreants!" he shouted. "Oh, my Knight, my Knight!" and turningto the men who followed him, he exclaimed, "There is yet hope! Willyou see our trust betrayed, our noble Knight foully murdered anddelivered to his enemies, or will ye strike a bold stroke in hisdefence? He who is not dead to honour, follow me!"

  There was a postern, of which Eustace had given Gaston the key, on hisdeparture, and thither the faithful Squire hastened, without lookingback to see whether he was followed by many or few--in fact, ratherready to die with Sir Eustace than hoping to rescue him. The tenEnglishmen and some eight Frenchmen, infected by the desperation of hismanner, followed him closely as he rushed up the slope, dashed throughthe moat, and in another moment, opening the door, burst into thecourt. There stood a party of the garrison, upon whom he rushed with ashout of "Death, death to the traitor!" Gaston's arm did the work ofthree, as he hewed down the villains, who, surprised and discomfited,made feeble resistance. Who they were, or how many, he saw not, hecared not, but struck right and left, till the piteous cries for mercy,in familiar tones, made some impression, and he paused, as did hiscompanions, while, in a tone of rage and anguish, he demanded, "Whereis Sir Eustace?"

  "Ah! Master d'Aubricour, 'twas not me, 'twas the traitor,Sanchez--'twas Tristan," was the answer. "Oh, mercy, for our blessedLady's sake!"

  "No mercy, dogs! till ye have shown me Sir Eustace in life and limb."

  "Alas! alas! Master d'Aubricour!" This cry arose from some of theEnglish; and Gaston, springing towards the bartizan, beheld thesenseless form of his beloved Knight lying stretched in a pool of hisown blood! Pouring out lamentations in the passionate terms of theSouth, tearing his hair at having been beguiled into leaving theCastle, and vowing the most desperate vengeance against Clarenham andhis accomplices, he lifted his master from the ground, and, as he didso, he fancied he felt a slight movement of the chest, and a faint moanfell upon his ear.

  What recked Gaston that the Castle was but half taken, that enemieswere around on every side? He saw only, heard only, thought only, ofSir Eustace! What was life or death, prosperity or adversity, save asshared with him! He lifted the Knight in his arms, and, hurrying upthe stone steps, placed him on his couch.

  "Bring water! bring wine!" he shouted as he crossed the hall. Ahorse-boy followed with a pitcher of water, and Gaston, unfastening thecollar of his doublet, raised his head, held his face towards the air,and deluged it with water, entreating him to look up and speak.

  A few long painful gasps, and the eyes were half unclosed, while ascarce audible voice said, "Gaston! is it thou? I deemed it was over!"and then the eyes closed again. Gaston's heart was lightened at havingheard that voice once more, even had that word been his last--andanswering, "Ay, truly, Sir Knight, all is well so you will but lookup," he succeed in pouring a little water into his mouth.

  He was interrupted by several of the men-at-arms, who came trooping upto the door, looking anxiously at the wounded Knight, while theforemost said, "Master Gaston, here is gear which must be looked to.Thibault Sanchez and half a dozen more have drawn together inMontfort's tower, and swear they will not come forth till we havepromised their lives."

  "Give them no such pledge!--Hang without mercy!" cried another voicefrom behind. "Did not I myself hear the traitorous villains send offTristan de la Fleche to bear the news to Carcassonne? We shall havethe butcher of Bretagne at our throats before another hour is over."

  "Cowardly traitor!" cried Gaston. "Wherefore didst thou not cut thethroat of the caitiff, and make in to the rescue of the Knight?"

  "Why, Master d'Aubricour, the deed was done ere I was well awake, andwhen it was done, and could not be undone, and we were but four men toa dozen, what could a poor groom do? But you had better look toyourself; for it is true as the legends of the saints, that Tristan isgone to Carcassonne, riding full speed on the Knight's own blackcharger!"

  The news seemed to have greater effect in restoring Eustace than any ofGaston's attentions. He again opened his eyes, and made an effort toraise his head, as he said, almost instinctively, "Secure the gates!Warders, to your posts!"

  The men stood amazed; and Eustace, rallying, looked around him, andperceived the state of the case. "Said you they had sent to summon theenemy?" said he.

  "Martin said so," replied Gaston, "and I fear it is but too true."

  "Not a moment to be lost!" said Eustace. "Give me some wine!" and hespoke in a stronger voice, "How many of you are true to King Edward andto the Prince? All who will not fight to the death in their cause havefree leave to quit this Castle; but, first, a message must be sent toBordeaux."

  "True, Sir Eustace, but on whom can we rely?" asked Gaston.

  "Alas! I fear my faithful Ingram must be slain," said the Knight,"else this could never have been. Know you aught of him?" he added,looking anxiously at the men.

  The answer was a call from one of the men: "Here, John, don't standthere grunting like a hog; the Knight is asking for you, don't youhear?"

  A slight scuffle was heard, and in a few seconds the broad figure ofIngram shouldered through the midst of the men-at-arms. He came,almost like a man in a dream, to the middle of the room, and there,suddenly dropping upon his knees, he clasped his hands, exclaiming, "I,John Ingram, hereby solemnly vow to our blessed Lady of Taunton, andSt. Joseph of Glastonbury, that never more will I drink sack, or wineor any other sort or kind, spiced or unspiced, on holiday or commonday, by day or night. So help me, our blessed Lady and St. Joseph."

  "Stand up, John, and let us know if you are in your senses," saidGaston, angrily; "we have no time for fooleries. Let us know whetheryou have been knave, traitor, or fool; for one or other you must havebeen, to be standing here sound and safe."

  "You are right, Sir Squire," said Ingram, covering his face with hishands. "I would I were ten feet underground ere I had seen this day;"and he groaned aloud.

  "You have been deceived by their arts," said Eustace. "That I can wellbelieve; but that you should be a traitor, never, my trusty John!"

  "Blessings on you for the word, Sir Eustace!" cried the yeoman, whiletears fell down his rough cheeks. "Oh! all the wine in the world maybe burnt to the very dregs ere I again let a drop cross my lips! but itwas d
rugged, Sir Eustace, it was drugged--that will I aver to my dyingday."

  "I believe it," said Eustace; "but we must not wait to hear your tale,John. You must take horse and ride with all speed to Bordeaux. One ofyou go and prepare a horse--"

  "Take Brigliador!" said Gaston; "he is the swiftest. Poor fellow! wellthat I spared him from our journey amid the mountain passes."

  "Then," proceeded Eustace, "bear the news of our case--that we havebeen betrayed--that Clisson will be on us immediately--that we will doall that man can do to hold out till succour can come, which I pray thePrince to send us."

  "Take care to whom he addresses himself," said Gaston. "To some ourstrait will be welcome news."

  "True," said Eustace. "Do thy best to see Sir John Chandos, or, if hebe not at the court, prefer thy suit to the Prince himself--to any savethe Earl of Pembroke. Or if thou couldst see little Arthur, it mightbe best of all. Dost understand my orders, John?"

  "Ay, Sir," said Ingram, shaking his great head, while the tears stillflowed down his cheeks; "but to see you in this case!"

  "Think not of that, kind John," said Eustace; "death must come sooneror later, and a sword-cut is the end for a Knight."

  "You will not, shall not die, Sir Eustace!" cried Gaston. "Yourwounds--"

  "I know not, Gaston; but the point is now, not of saving my life, butthe Castle. Speed, speed, Ingram! Tell the Prince, if this Castle betaken, it opens the way to Bordeaux itself. Tell him how many bravemen it contains, and say to him that I pray him not to deem thatEustace Lynwood hath disgraced his knighthood. Tell Arthur, too, tobear me sometimes in mind, and never forget the line he comes of. Farethee well, good John!"

  "Let me but hear that I have your forgiveness, Sir Knight."

  "You have it, as freely as I hope for mercy. One thing more: shouldyou see Leonard Ashton, let him know that I bear him no ill-will, andpray him not to leave the fair fame of his old comrade foully stained.Farewell: here is my hand--do not take it as scorn that it is myleft--my right I cannot move--"

  The yeoman still stood in a sort of trance, gazing at him, as if unableto tear himself away.

  "See him off, Gaston," said the Knight; "then have the walls properlymanned--all is in your hands."

  Gaston obeyed, hurrying him to the gate, and giving him more hope ofSir Eustace's recovery than he felt; for he knew that nothing but theprospect of saving him was likely to inspire the yeoman with eitherspeed or pertinacity enough to be of use. He fondly patted Brigliador,who turned his neck in amaze at finding it was not his master whomounted him, and having watched them for a moment, he turned to lookround the court, which was empty, save for the bodies of those whom hehad slain in his furious onset. He next repaired to the hall, where hefound the greater part of the men loitering about and exchangingdifferent reports of strange events which had taken place:--"He can'tbe a wizard, for certain," said one, "or he never would be in thiscase, unless his bargain was up."

  "It were shame not to stand by him now in the face of the enemy," saidanother. "How bold he spoke, weak and wounded as he was!"

  "He is of the old English stock," said a third,--"a brave,stout-hearted young Knight."

  "Well spoken, old Simon Silverlocks," said Gaston, entering. "I doubtwhere you would find another such within the wide realm of France."

  "He is brave enough, that no man doubts," answered Simon, "but somewhatof the strictest, especially considering his years. Sir Reginald wasnothing to him."

  "Was it not time to be strict when there was such a nest of treacherywithin the Castle?" said Gaston. "We knew that murderous miscreant ofa Basque, and had we not kept well on our guard against him, you,Master Simon, would long since have been hanging as high fromMontfort's tower as I trust soon to see him."

  "But how knew you him, Master d'Aubricour? that is the question," saidold Simon with a very solemn face of awe.

  "How? why by means of somewhat sharper eyes than you seem to possess. Ihave no time to bandy words--all I come to ask is, will you do the dutyof honest men or not? If not, away with you, and I and the Knight willabide here till it pleases Messire Oliver, the butcher, to practice histrade on us. I remember, if some of the Lances of Lynwood do not, acertain camp at Valladolid, when some of us might have been ill off hadhe not stood by our beds of sickness; nor will I easily desert thatpennon which was so gallantly made a banner."

  These were remembrances to stir the hearts of the ancient Lances ofLynwood, and there was a cry among them of, "We will never turn ourbacks on it! Lynwood for ever!"

  "Right, mine old comrades. Our walls are strong; our hearts arestronger; three days, and aid must come from Bordeaux. The traitorsare captives, and we know to whom to trust; for ye, of English birth,and ye, my countrymen, who made in so boldly to the rescue, ye will notfail at this pinch, and see a brave and noble Knight yielded to a packof cowardly murderers."

  "Never! never! We will stand by him to the last drop of our blood,"they replied; for the sight of the brave wounded Knight, as well as theexample of Gaston's earnestness and devotion, had had a powerfuleffect, and they unanimously joined the Squire in a solemn pledge todefend both Castle and Knight to the last extremity.

  "Then up with the good old banner!" said Gaston, "and let us giveMessire Oliver such a reception as he will be little prepared for." Hethen gave some hasty directions, appointed old Silverlocks, a skilledand tried warrior, to take the place of Seneschal for the time, and tosuperintend the arrangements; and sending two men to guard the entranceof Montfort's tower, where Sanchez and his accomplices had shutthemselves up, he returned to the Castellane's chamber.

  Never was there an apartment more desolate. Chateau Norbelle was builtmore to be defended than to be inhabited, and the rooms were rather somuch inclosed space than places intended for comfort. The walls were ofunhewn stone, and, as well as the roof, thickly tapestried withcobwebs,--the narrow loophole which admitted light was unglazed,--andthere was nothing in the whole chamber that could be called furniture,save the two rude pallets which served the Knight and Squire for beds,and a chest which had been forced open and rifled by the mutineers.They had carried off Eustace's beloved books, to burn them in the courtas instruments of sorcery, and a few garments it had likewise containedlay scattered about the room. Gaston hastened to the side of hisbeloved Knight, almost dreading, from his silence and stillness, tofind him expiring. But he was only faint and exhausted, and whenGaston raised him, and began to examine his wounds, he looked up,saying, "Thanks, thanks, kind Gaston! but waste not your time here.The Castle! the Castle!"

  "What care I for the Castle compared to your life!" said Gaston.

  "For my honour and your own," said Eustace, fixing his eyes on hisSquire's face. "Gaston, I fear you," he added, stretching out his handand grasping that of d'Aubricour; "if you survive, you will forget theduty you owe the King, for the purpose of avenging me upon Clarenham.If ever you have loved me, Gaston, give me your solemn promise thatthis shall not be."

  "It was the purpose for which I should have lived," said Gaston.

  "You resign it?" said Eustace, still retaining his hold of his hand."You touch not one of my wounds till you have given me your oath."

  "I swear it, then," said Gaston, "since you will ever have your ownway, and I do it the rather that Messire Oliver de Clisson willprobably save me the pain of keeping the pledge."

  "You have taken all measures for defence?"

  "Yes. The men-at-arms, such as are left, may be trusted, and have alltaken an oath to stand by us, which I do not think they will readilybreak. The rest either made off with the baggage-mules, or were slainwhen we broke in to your rescue, or are shut up with Le Borgne Basquein Montfort's tower. I have sent the men to their posts, put themunder Silverlock's orders, and told him to come to me for directions."

  Eustace at last resigned himself into the Squire's hands. A brokenarm, a ghastly-looking cut on the head, and a deep thrust with aponiard in the breast, seemed the most serious of the injuries he hadr
eceived; but there were numerous lesser gashes and stabs which hadoccasioned a great effusion of blood, and he had been considerablybruised by his fall.

  Gaston could attempt nothing but applying some ointment, sold by a Jewat Bordeaux as an infallible cure for all wounds and bruises; and,having done all he could for the comfort of his patient, quitted him toattend to the defence of the Castle.

  His first visit was to Montfort's tower, one of the four flanking themain body of the Castle.

  "Well, Master Thibault Sanchez, or, if you like it better, Le BorgneBasque," cried he, "thank you for saving us some trouble. You havefound yourself a convenient prison there, and I hope you are at yourease."

  "We shall see how you are at your ease, Master Gaston le Maure,"retorted Sanchez from the depths of the tower, "when another Borgneshall make his appearance, and string you up as a traitor to KingCharles, your liege lord."

  "Le Borgne Basque talking of traitors and such gear!" returned Gaston;"but he will tell a different tale when the succours come from thePrince."

  "Ha! ha!" laughed Thibault, "a little bird whispered in mine ear thatyou may look long for succour from Bordeaux."

  This was, in a great measure, Gaston's own conviction; but he onlyreplied the more vehemently that it could not fail, since neitherKnights nor Castles were so lightly parted with, and that he trustedsoon to have the satisfaction of seeing the inhabitants of the towerreceive the reward of their treachery.

  Thus they parted--Thibault, perfectly well satisfied to remain where hewas, since he had little doubt that Oliver de Clisson's speedy arrivalwould set him at liberty, and turn the tables upon Gaston; and Gaston,glad that, since he could not at present have the satisfaction ofhanging him, he was in a place where he could do no mischief, andwhence he could not escape.

  Now the warder on the watch-tower blew a blast, and every eye wasturned towards the eastern part of the country, where, in the directionof Carcassonne, was to be seen a thick cloud of dust, from which, indue time, were visible the flashes of armour, and the points ofweapons. Gaston, having given his orders, and quickened the activityof each man in his small garrison, hurried down to bear the tidings toSir Eustace, and to array himself in his own brightest helmet andgayest surcoat.

  Ascending again to the battlements, he could see the enemy approaching,could distinguish the banner of Clisson, and count the long array ofmen-at-arms and crossbow-men as they pursued their way through thebright green landscape, now half hidden by a rising ground, now slowlywinding from its summit.

  At last they came to the foot of the slope. Gaston had already markedthe start and pause, which showed when they first recognized theEnglish standard; and there was another stop, while they rangedthemselves in order, and, after a moment's interval, a man-at-arms rodeforward towards the postern door, looked earnestly at it, and called"Sanchez!"

  "Shoot him dead!" said Gaston to an English crossbow-man who stoodbeside him; "it is the villain Tristan, on poor Ferragus."

  The arblast twanged, and Tristan fell, while poor Ferragus, afterstarting violently, trotted round to the well-known gate, and stoodthere neighing. "Poor fellow!" said Gaston, "art calling Brigliador? Iwould I knew he had sped well."

  The French, dismayed by the reception of their guide, held back; butpresently a pursuivant came forward from their ranks, and, after histrumpet had been sounded, summoned, in the name of the good Knight,Messire Oliver de Clisson, the garrison of Chateau Norbelle tosurrender it into his hands, as thereto commissioned by his grace,Charles, King of France.

  The garrison replied by another trumpet, and Gaston, standing forthupon the battlements, over the gateway, demanded to speak with SirOliver de Clisson, and to have safe-conduct to and from the open spaceat the foot of the slope. This being granted, the drawbridge waslowered, and the portcullis raised. Ferragus entered, and wentstraight to his own stall; and Gaston d'Aubricour came forth incomplete armour, and was conducted by the pursuivant to the leader ofthe troop. Sir Oliver de Clisson, as he sat on horseback with thevisor of his helmet raised, had little or nothing of the appearance ofthe courteous Knight of the period. His features were not, perhaps,originally as harsh and ill-formed as those of his compeer, Bertrand duGuesclin, but there was a want of the frank open expression andcourteous demeanour which so well suited the high chivalrous temper ofthe great Constable of France. They were dark and stern, and the lossof an eye, which had been put out by an arrow, rendered him still morehard-favoured. He was, in fact, a man soured by early injuries--hisfather had been treacherously put to death by King John of France, whenDuke of Normandy, and his brother had been murdered by anEnglishman--his native Brittany was torn by dissensions anddivisions--and his youth had been passed in bloodshed and violence. Hehad now attained the deserved fame of being the second Knight inFrance, honourable and loyal as regarded his King, but harsh, rigid,cruel, of an unlovable temper, which made him in after years a mark forplots and conspiracies; and the vindictive temper of the Celtic raceleading him to avenge the death of his brother upon every Englishmanwho fell into his hands.

  "So, Sir Squire!" exclaimed he, in his harsh voice, "what excuse do youcome to make for slaying my messenger ere he had time to deliver hischarge?"

  "I own him as no messenger," returned Gaston. "He was a renegadetraitor from our own Castle, seeking his accomplice in villainy!"

  "Well, speak on," said Oliver, to whom the death of a man-at-arms was amatter of slight importance. "Art thou come to deliver up the Castleto its rightful lord?"

  "No, Messire Oliver," replied Gaston. "I come to bring the reply ofthe Castellane, Sir Eustace Lynwood, that he will hold out the Castleto the last extremity against all and each of your attacks."

  "Sir Eustace Lynwood? What means this, Master Squire? Yonder knavedeclared he was dead!"

  "Hear me, Sir Oliver de Clisson," said Gaston. "Sir Eustace Lynwoodhath a pair of mortal foes at the Prince's court, who prevailed on apart of the garrison to yield him into your hands. In my absence, theyin part succeeded. By the negligence of a drunken groom they wereenabled to fall upon him in his sleep, and, as they deemed, hadmurdered him. I, returning with the rest of the garrison, was enabledto rescue him, and deliver the Castle, where he now lies--alive,indeed, but desperately wounded. Now, I call upon you, Sir Oliver, tojudge, whether it be the part of a true and honourable Knight to becomepartner of such miscreants, and to take advantage of so foul a web oftreachery?"

  "This may be a fine tale for the ears of younger knights-errant, SirSquire," was the reply of Clisson. "For my part though I am no loverof treason, I may not let the King's service be stayed by scruples.For yourself, Sir Squire, I make you a fair offer. You are, by yourtongue and countenance, a Gascon--a liegeman born of King Charles ofFrance. To you, and to every other man of French birth, I offer toenter his service, or to depart whither it may please you, with armsand baggage, so you will place the Castle in our hands--and leave us towork our will of the island dogs it contains!"

  "Thanks, Sir Oliver, for such a boon as I would not vouchsafe to stoopto pick up, were it thrown at my feet!"

  "Well and good, Sir Squire," said Clisson, rather pleased at the boldreply. "We understand each other. Fare thee well."

  And Gaston walked back to the Castle, muttering to himself, "Had itbeen but the will of the Saints to have sent Du Guesclin hither, thenwould Sir Eustace have been as safe and free as in Lynwood Keep itself!But what matters it? If he dies of his wounds, what good would my lifedo me, save to avenge him--and from that he has debarred me. So, grimOliver, do thy worst!--Ha!" as he entered the Castle--"downportcullis--up drawbridge! Archers, bend your bows! Martin, stonesfor the mangonel!"

  Nor was the assault long delayed. Clisson's men only waited to securetheir horses and prepare their ladders, and the attack was made onevery side.

  It was well and manfully resisted. Bravely did the little garrisonstruggle with the numbers that poured against them on every side, andthe day wore away in the desperate conflict.
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br />   Sir Eustace heard the loud cries of "Montjoie St. Denis! Clisson!" onthe one side, and the "St. George for Merry England! A Lynwood!" withwhich his own party replied; he heard the thundering of heavy stones,the rush of combatants, the cries of victory or defeat. Sometimes hiswhole being seemed in the fight; he clenched his teeth, he shouted hiswar-cry, tried to raise himself and lift his powerless arm; thenreturned again to the consciousness of his condition, clasped eitherthe rosary or the crucifix, and turned his soul to fervent prayer;then, again, the strange wild cries without confounded themselves intoone maddening noise on his feverish ear, or, in the confusion of hisweakened faculties, he would, as it were, believe himself to be hisbrother dying on the field of Navaretta, and scarce be able to rousehimself to a feeling of his own identity.

  So passed the day--and twilight was fast deepening into night, when thecries, a short time since more furious than ever, and nearer and moreexulting on the part of the French, at length subsided, and finallydied away; the trampling steps of the men-at-arms could be heard in thehall below, and Gaston himself came up with hasty step, undid hishelmet, and, wiping his brow, threw himself on the ground with his backagainst the chest, saying, "Well, we have done our devoir, at any rate!Poor Brigliador! I am glad he has a kind master in Ingram!"

  "Have they won the court?" asked Eustace. "I thought I heard theirshouts within it."

  "Ay! Even so. How could we guard such an extent of wall with barelyfive and twenty men? Old Silverlocks and Jaques de l'Eure are slainMartin badly wounded, and we all forced back into the inner court,after doing all it was in a man to do."

  "I heard your voice, bold and cheerful as ever, above the tumult," saidEustace. "But the inner court is fit for a long defence--thatstaircase parapet, where so few can attack at once."

  "Ay," said Gaston, "it was that and the darkness that stopped them.There I can detain them long enough to give the chance of the succours,so those knaves below do not fail in spirit--and they know well enoughwhat chance they have from yon grim-visaged Breton! But as to thosesuccours, I no more expect them than I do to see the Prince at theirhead! A hundred to one that he never hears of our need, or, if heshould, that Pembroke and Clarenham do not delay the troops till toolate."

  "And there will be the loss of the most important castle, and the mostfaithful and kindest heart!" said Eustace. "But go, Gaston--food andrest you must need after this long day's fight--and the defences mustbe looked to, and the men cheered!"

  "Yes," said Gaston, slowly rising, and bending over the Knight; "but isthere nought I can do for you, Sir Eustace?"

  "Nought, save to replenish my cup of water. It is well for me that theenemy have not cut us off from the Castle well."

  Gaston's supper did not occupy him long. He was soon again inEustace's room, talking over his plan of defence for the next day; butwith little, if any, hope that it would be other than his laststruggle. At last, wearied out with the exertions of that day and thepreceding, he listened to Eustace's persuasions, and, removing the morecumbrous portions of his armour, threw himself on his bed, and, in amoment, his regular breathings announced that he was sound asleep.

  It was in the pale early light of dawn that he awoke, and, starting upwhile still half asleep, exclaimed, "Sir Eustace, are you there? Ishould have relieved guard long since!" Then, as he recalled hissituation, "I had forgot! How is it with you, Sir Eustace? Have youslept?"

  "No," said Eustace. "I have not lost an hour of this last night Ishall ever see. It will soon be over now--the sun is already reddeningthe sky; and so, Gaston, ends our long true-hearted affection. Littledid I think it would bring thee to thy death in the prime of theystrength and manhood!" and he looked mournfully on the lofty statureand vigorous form of the Squire, as he stood over him.

  "For that, Sir Eustace, there is little cause to grieve. I have been awanderer, friendless and homeless, throughout my life; and save foryourself, and, perhaps, poor little Arthur's kind heart, where is onewho would cast a second thought on me, beyond, perhaps, saying, 'He wasa brave and faithful Squire!' But little, little did I think, when Isaw your spurs so nobly won, that this was to be the end of it--thatyou were to die, defamed and reviled, in an obscure den, and by thefoul treachery of--"

  "Speak not of that, Gaston," said Eustace. "I have dwelt on it in thelong hours of the night, and I have schooled my mind to bear it. Thosewith whom we shall soon be, know that if I have sinned in many points,yet I am guiltless in that whereof they accuse me--and, for the rest,there are, at least, two who will think no shame of Eustace Lynwood.And now, if there is yet time, Gaston, since no Priest is at hand, Iwould pray thee to do me the last favour of hearing the confession ofmy sins."

  And Gaston kneeling down, the Knight and Squire, according to thecustom of warriors in extremity, confessed to each other, with thecrucifix raised between them. Eustace then, with his weak and failingvoice, repeated several prayers and psalms appropriate to the occasion,in which Gaston joined with hearty devotion. By this time, a slightstir was heard within the Castle; and Gaston, rising from his knees,went to the loophole, which commanded a view of the court, where theFrench had taken up their quarters for the night in some of theoutbuildings--and the lion rampant of Clisson was waving in triumph onthe gateway tower.

  "All silent there," said he; "but I must go to rouse our knaves in timeto meet the first onset." And, as he clasped on his armour, hecontinued, "All that is in the power of man will we do! Rest assured,Sir Eustace, they reach you not save through my body; and let yourprayers be with me. One embrace, Sir Eustace, and we meet no more--"

  "In this world." Eustace concluded the sentence, as Gaston hung overhim, and his tears dropped on his face. "Farewell, most faithful andmost true-hearted! Go, I command thee! Think not on me--think on thyduty--and good angels will be around us both. Farewell, farewell."

  Gaston, for the first time in his life, felt himself unable to speak.He crossed the room with slow and lingering step; then, with a greateffort, dashed out at the door, closing his visor as he did so, and,after a short interval, during which he seemed to have stopped on thestairs, Eustace could hear his gay bold tones, calling, "Up! up! mymerry men, all! Let not the French dogs find the wolf asleep in hisden. They will find our inner bartizan a hard stone for theirteeth--and it will be our own fault, if they crack it before the comingof our brave comrades from Bordeaux!"