 Family Theatre presents Gale Storm and Rob O'Connor. She with Family Theatre brings you Gale Storm in the Valiant Lady from the works of G.P. James. Thank you, Gene Baker. Surely there are a few among us who have not at one time or another been thrilled by the tales of romance and chivalry and thrall by the daring deeds and the ladies' fare of the days when knighthood was in flower. So come with us then back to those days, back to merry England in the years following the Norman Conquest, back to the times of Margaret of Harreford, the Valiant Lady, whose story we bring you now. With Gale Storm as the brave and beautiful Margaret, Dan O'Hurley is Ralph de Guador, the noble Earl of Norfolk, and William Conrad as William the Conqueror. It was on the outskirts of the small peaceful village of San-Hilaire in Brittany that the forces of William the Conqueror, proud, arrogant, iron-willed William, finally crushed the rebellious arms of Harreford and Norfolk. The traitorous Earl, who had dared to wage open insurrection against him. But it was a battle bitterly won in a great cost, primarily because of him whose armor bore the proud escutcheon of the House of Norfolk. We have him! Norfolk is bound! Unvite Dargon and give his throne! Hold, hold, hold! But soon as thine own head and the William's wrath, his orders were to bring him off at the line. Here, help me carry him off the field of battle. You shall meet his death soon enough. That's not of interest to me, Otto, but of Norfolk. And if you tell me he has escaped once again... Nay, my lord, nay, we have him prisoner. Wounded, somewhat weak from loss of blood, but... Prisoner says, though. Why is he not standing here, cowering before me? Fetch him at once. I, my liege, lord, it shall be done. It has come. Thy foolhardy passage at arms against thy king is o'er. Thou art no king of mine, William. O's no allegiance to thee. Strange words from him who was once my right hand, to whom I would have entrusted my kingdom, my very life. You have only thine own arrogance and ruthless disregard for others to blame for my words, William. I have no allegiance to offer. No trust to give to one whom I can only scorn and despise. Silence! Silence lest I strike thee dead where ye stand. The edge of thy sword cannot harm that which is already dead, William. You have already caused me to lose that which is dearer than life. I cannot understand thee, Ralph. I confess it freely. I cannot understand thee. If I only could, perhaps, have ye no explanation to offer, no words to speak on thine own behalf? Our words, William. There are explanations are now. But to thee, to whom conquest and ruthless self-advancement mean all, to thee, to whom fire and the sword are the very marrow of life itself, they can mean but little. Try, William. Stand, William. Standing tall and stately in ancient grandeur, where the countryside slopes down towards the banks of the river, why? On the day of which I speak, the thicket stirred with activity. The woods echoed with the music of the hounds. For my dearest friend Roger Fitzsarth Bernal of Hereford and I were at the hunt. We were giving chase to a fine high stag closing in on him. And suddenly, I was the sharp twang of a bull string, a glittering flash of arrow, and we reigned in our horses. The stag was lying there in his death-throws. The prize had been rested from us both. Here, now, what is this I see? It would seem that a fair beaster had marked for thy prey, Roger, as fallen to the shaft of another. It is plain enough to see that, Ralph, but who would dare? These woods are mine. They take those bane hounds away. I'm alone. In our back with thee. If I could but place my hands on the miscreant who has thus put our chase, I'd promise thee, Ralph, his skin would make more bull strings than now exist in all England. Tis, in truth, the most dire punishment she threatened Lord Hereford. Nevertheless, I cannot do art but confess my guilt before thee. It was a slim, calmly lad in page's dress who uttered those words. As he stepped toward us from the edge of the clearing, bows still in hand, seemed to be a laughing, mocking light in his eyes. A hint of a smile on a face that attempted to appear contrite thou. Thou are the one who... I am a lord, and lest thy anger at losing the beast be clouds thy memory, I beg leave to refresh it. Thou hast most graciously granted me permission to hunt upon thy land. Does the lad's tongue speak the truth, Roger? I... I bet it does, Ralph. Then the dear does, in all justice, belong to the lad. Let him take it and welcome. I would faint thank thee, Lord Norfolk, for thy gentle aid. But such a noble beast deserves a noble board. Allow me, then, to make a present of it to thee. To me, lad, the most generous bequest indeed. Ah, but she may not think so when you hear the requirement that passes with it. The requirement? That the venison grace the supper board at Hereford Castle this night, and that she present the first and choicest cut to my Lord Hereford's sister, the Lady Margaret. I... I do not understand, lad. You have never met the Lady Margaret. After ye sub tonight, she may have cause to change thy mind. I bid thee good day, my lords, and may I wish thee the happiest of hunting. Could have been small wonder, William, if I had not been both puzzled and peaked by the lad's strange words. And turning to Roger, I received neither explanation nor solace. Only amused laughter in reply to my queries. And so it was that when we returned to Hereford Castle, we entered the great hall. I looked eagerly about seeking the young page. He was nowhere to be found. If thou art looking for an answer to thy bewilderment ralph, why not seek out the page for information? Honourst, I have sought the page, Roger, most diligently. I could almost swear thou has clapped him in the dungeon keep to prevent my finding him. Nay, Lord Norfolk, thou hath only to look behind thee to find the one you seek. Ah, so there ye are, lad. I have... Oh, by... by pardon, from the sound of thy voice I had thought me. I am a Lord. What was it she thought? It was not possible for me to tell what I had thought. Suddenly, instantaneously, all thought was gone. For in the presence of that beautiful, unbelievable vision I saw before me, it was my heart that all took my mind. How can I describe her? How can one describe the fragrance of a rose, the fiery beauty of an undone sunset? How can one describe an angel from heaven? And what was it she thought from my voice, my lord? Just the same voice, the land the voice, yet... I beg of thee, my lady, put an end to my bewilderment and confusion. Nay, nay, allow me to do so, Ralph, by presenting thee to that dear slaying page and, my sister, the Lady Margaret. As it was, William, that I met Margaret of Hereford, my valiant lady, she who became more to me at the very moment of meeting than glory, kingdoms, filthy life itself. For the next six weeks I dwelled to the castle Hereford, six weeks that passed as though in a dream in which nothing else existed but she who was the Lady Margaret. But as the end of my stay approached, I knew the time was fast at hand and the dream must come to an end, either by my rude awakening or to be replaced by another dream, even more unbelievable. That would never end, so long as I lived. As upon a balustrade overlooking the fields of Hereford, transformed by the magic brush of the moonlight into a fairyland that the decision was made. Is a moment of passing strangeness, is it not, my lord Norfolk? Strangeness, my lady? Aye. Thou art a brave and dashing Roman knight. Yet here, on this balustrade, alone with me, thy courage is gone. Thou art as meek and mewling as a newborn kit. I do not understand, my lady. You depart from the castle on the morrow, my lord. The time remaining to us is short and precious. Why dost thou waste it then? Why do ye not speak? You know then, lady Margaret. You know of my love for thee. Could I not see it shining from thine eyes a thousand times a day, Ralph? Then if ye knew, Margaret, what of thee? I love thee, too. Nay, wait, Ralph. Wait. I have seen too many of these marriages of Norman nobles. Marriages arranged by grasping William to further his own interest. Marriages in which the women were but playthings. The child's toy to be picked up or cast aside at whim. Margaret, I... If I am to become your wife, Ralph, what am I to become? If thou art to become my wife, Margaret, it is to become a friend, a companion, a share of all my thoughts. It is to be my consolation in adversity, my joy in prosperity, the leading star of all my efforts, the light of all my hopes. This is what ye must wish to be with the man whom ye love. And this is what ye shall be. I promise thee. My message to thee in Normandy, telling of the wondrous news, will send post haste. Your reply to my message by blessings, William, arrived by Harold in the morning we were to be wed. This marriage is not according to my plans. I forbid it, William. I had forgot thy ever-present fear of insurrection within thy ranks, William. I should have known that news of a union between Hereford and Norfolk would only spell the danger of future rebellion to you. But ye should have known better of me and to cross my heart. And thus ended forever my fealty allegiance to thee. Me forbid it? He forbid it? By what right does this William dare to forbid the union of the houses of Norfolk in Hereford? Does he forget that it was to our swords that he owed his elevation to the throne? He forgets more than that, Roger. He forgets that we are free men. He does not own our body and soul as he would like to own all who dwell within the borders of his kingdom. If he were here, my answer would be hurled into his teeth. Ye would defy thy king, then, Ralph, for love of me? If thou wouldst but say, my gauge would be hurled at the entire world. Thou hast my word that I love thee, Ralph. That thou shalt always have. But lest thy words come from resentment and anger rather than from thy heart, come, see for thyself what thy defiance would mean. Ye were never one to leave thy meaning in doubt. Worth thou, William. Now was there left any doubt as to thy ability to know my mind. For thy message was not backed by hurled and horn alone, but by a solid ring of steel, of armored men and horses, of lance and sword and buckler that surrounded Hereford Castle. There, Ralph, is what faces thee if we are wed. The armed might of William the Conqueror. Aye. What Margaret says is truth, Ralph. It would mean open rebellion, insurrection against thy king. With thy head on a stake is its almost inevitable end. What dost thou say now, Ralph? I can say only this, Margaret. For love of thee, I would fling my gauge where the odds a thousand fold is great. But the decision is not mine alone to make. Tis thy heart that must apply the final answer. Then let my heart answer thus. I will be thy consolation and adversity, thy joy and prosperity, the leading star of all thy efforts, the light of all thy hopes. And so we were wed in the tiny chapel of Hereford Castle. Wed to the accompaniment of the clanger of arms being ready for battle. Wed, knowing full well that our future together might well be o'er even before it began. A simple ceremony was soon completed. And even as we left the chapel, a fully armed and richly comparison night rode boldly forth from the ranks opposed to us and approached the castle. The device upon his shield marked him plainly, William, as thy brother, Otto of Bayou, attesting full well as to the import placed by thee upon this affair. He crossed the drawbridge and rained up before the portcullises. It was there I met him. Oh, has received thy king's command, Sir Otto? I have been informed of William's wishes, I, Sir Otto. And I reply to them. Tell, William, that those within these walls owe no fealty to tyrants. No word or deed of his could have prevented the uniting of the houses of Hereford and Norfolk. By these words thou hast condemned thyself as traitor, Sir Ralph. I demand ye yield thyself to me as prisoner. If the wish of the master means not, does thou believe that that of the servant could be of consequence? I give thee one hour to surrender thy persons. At the end of that time, my trumpet shall sound the charge. Hereford Castle and all within it shall be destroyed. That hour was spent in disposing our meagre forces as best we could to protect our walls and battlements against the overwhelming besiegers. Then there was not else to do, but wait. I stood there on the battlements trying to gauge the strength of Otto's forces. Knowing full well as I did so, that whether there were 5,000 or 10, the difference was but little. One day, two, three, and the struggle would be over. Courage, my darling. Margaret, these battlements are no paper. Margaret, that suit of mail, the longbow in thy hand. What is the meaning of this? Surely it is clear to thee, Ralph. The strength of every arm shall be needed. I can send a shaft as straight and true as any yeoman here. Nay, nay, Margaret, that cannot be. I cannot allow thee to imperil thy life here. It is not a question of whether I should be here or not. Here is where I must be. Nay, Margaret, nay, nay, thou dost not know this bloody butcher Odo. He would at least be... It is their signal, Ralph. Our work is about to begin. Courage, my darling. Courage. The ring of gleaming steel surrounding Hereford began to come alive, and to move with doom filled certainty toward our walls. The sunlight dense gaily undeadly thawed, and mace and lance, the soft green turf for peaceful deer were wont to play in gamble, was torn and shattered under the flying hooves of the armoured horses of war. Ever tighter became that steel ring, ever more swiftly it tolls around us, spiked and deadly is the embrace of the Iron Maiden, and then it was upon us. No time for thoughts, no wonder, appear then, only time to beat down one curious assault before the next wave was moving to the attack. But always beside me was a calm, petty train of the bone-train. Ten feet shaft after shaft was steadily aimed, and always within me was a calm, petty voice that kept repeating. Speaking of the night that the battle ceased, and whiskers had time to count the fearful toll amongst us, when Otto of Bayou was before the gates for the herald. And what are thy terms, Ser Otto? There were none in my command who would even listen, and so the next day the attack was resumed, and upon the next, and with the coming of each night, Otto's terms were repeated, that our decision was made, and it was my valiant Lady Margaret who made it for the badly wounded Roger and me. There is only one recourse left to us, my brother, my husband. We must succeed, is Ser Otto's term. Not of mad, Margaret. Thus thou wish thy husband's head to roll into the waters of the wise. Train thyself, Roger, lest ye open thy wounds again. There is some plan underlying these words of Margaret's. It is a simple plan, my lords. It is for Ralph to escape from Hereford and journey to France, there to find allies among our friends who shape at the rough bid in William's hand. Escape? With Otto's men encamped on every blade of grass within a bow's shot of the walls? Yes, lest indeed lost thine mind. Nay, Roger. Ye forget the tunnel built beside the poston that leads to the riverbank. One man, unarmed, could float with the current past Otto's lines, and thence make his way to France in freedom. Aye. Aye, it could be done. It could be. But it shall not be. Margaret doth thou rarely think so little of me as to imagine I would desert thee. Turn my back on thee upon Ralph, upon our loyal men to save my own life. Nay, it is more than that, my beloved. It is our entire future, our only hope for happiness and love together. But what of thee, Margaret, and the others? Ye shall be risking capture and death at the hands of Otto's men. We must risk depending upon the terms of his word and surrender to him. Both risks must be taken, and with God's help, both will succeed. You know the rest, William, how I made my way to France, how my loyal friends whose bodies now lie at battle outside this tent took up their arms. Not on my behalf, but on behalf of freedom from tyranny, on behalf of a valiant lady, no word of whom has reached my ears since the night I left Hereford. I have heard thy story, Ralph. I find it as incredible as thy treachery taught me. No woman is worth the loss of earldom in life, nor does such a woman as ye describe possibly exist. She was not found by Otto in the ruins of Castle Hereford. Today, this entire affair was but a pretext to attempt to seize my power for thyself, and its end has now come. Otto promised thee death at the edge of the ditch by the headsman's axe, such as to be thy fake now. Take him without the tent, Otto, and see that the sentence of execution is... Stand where ye are, Ser Otto. But, Margaret, means this! Thou takest thy life lightly, Ser Otto. The next arrow shall find your throat rather than the walls of a tent. Here, Ralph, come beside me. Margaret, ye're alive! The tunnel and river served us well, too, Ralph. That's our madwoman. Do ye think ye can invade the tent of thy king armed with bow and arrow? It is not a matter of thinking, William. It has been done. Thy guards lie dead outside under Roger of Hereford's blade, and horses await to make good our escape. I will take thy blade, Ser Otto. My thanks. Now, my beloved, we shall bid our fond adieu to the conqueror and the bloody butcher. You stupid fools! Do ye really imagine you can escape in this manner? Get free with thy lives? What does it matter, William, whether we live or die, so long as it is together? But then, one such as thee would not understand about such things, perhaps. We bid thee adieu. Guns! Sound the alarm! Silence, Otto, silence! Silence below, but they're escaping! Let them escape. Let them? Aye, let them. I would not understand, she said. This much I can understand. I would trade my power, my kingdom, and my very life. I'd be worthy of the love of one such as she. If I, William the Conqueror, could be beloved by such a valiant lady. This is Waddo Connor again. Some time ago we asked you to send us your selections for adaptations and your response was most gratifying, serving as a reflection of the taste of our audience and as a guide for our selection. We sincerely hope that you will continue to help us please you, so drop us a line, won't you? Address Family Theater, Hollywood, California. And wherever infringement of copyright is not concerned, we will do our best to bring you an adaptation of your story selection. We are on the air each week only to please you and remind you that prayer is the most powerful force in the world. It's the answer to the cares and needs of the world. So pray together as a family and experience as millions have that the family that prays together stays together. More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of. This adaptation was written by Sidney Marshall based on the works of G.P. James with music composed and conducted by Harry Zimmerman was directed for Family Theater by Jaime Del Valle. Our Family Theater broadcasts are made possible by the thousands of you who felt the need for this type of program, by the mutual network which has responded to this need and by the stars of stage, screen and radio who have so unselfishly given of their time and talent to appear on our Family Theater stage. To them and to you, our humble thanks. This is Gene Baker expressing the wish of Family Theater that the blessing of God may be upon you and your home and inviting you to join us next week at this time when Family Theater will present Don Amici and Jeanette Nolan in the story of Sarah Bernhard. Join us, won't you? This is the Mutual Broadcasting System.