 Book III. CHAPTER II. A SCIRMISH IN THE DARK. Drenched and chilled, the two adventurers returned to their position in the gorse. I pray, Heaven, that Chapper makes good speed, said Dick, I vow a candle to St. Mary of Shorby if he come before the hour. Year in a hurry, Master Dick, asked Green Sheave. I, good fellow, answered Dick, for in that house lieeth my lady whom I love, and who should these be that lie about her secretly by night, unfriends for sure? Well, returned Green Sheave. And John comes speedily, we shall give a good account of them. They are not too score at the outside. I judge so by the spacing of their sentries, and, taking where they are, lying so widely, one score would scatter them like sparrows. And yet, Master Dick, and she be in Sir Daniel's power already, it will little hurt that she should change into another's. Who should these be? I do suspect the Lord of Shorby, Dick replied. When came they? They began to come, Master Dick, said Green Sheave, about the time ye crossed the wall. I had not lain there, the space of a minute ere I marched the first of the knaves crawling round the corner. The last light had been already extinguished in the little house when they were waiting in the wash of the breakers, and it was impossible to predict at what moment the lurking men about the garden wall might make their onslaught. Of two evils Dick preferred the least. He preferred that Joanna should remain under the guardianship of Sir Daniel, rather than pass into the clutches of Lord Shorby, and his mind was made up, if the house should be assaulted to come at once to the relief of the besieged. But the time passed, and still there was no movement. From quarter of an hour to quarter of an hour the same signal passed about the garden wall, as if the leader desired to assure himself of the vigilance of his scattered followers. But in every other particular the neighbourhood of the little house lay undisturbed. Presently Dick's reinforcements began to arrive. The night was not yet old, before nearly a score of men, croached beside him in the gorse. Putting these into two bodies he took the command of the smaller himself, and entrusted the larger to the leadership of Green Sheave. Now, Kit, he said to this at last, take me your men to the near angle of the garden wall upon the beach, post them strongly, and wait till you hear me falling upon the other side. It is those upon the sea-front that I would feign make certain of, for there will be the leader, the rest will run, even let them, and now lads, let no man draw an arrow, ye will but hurt friends, take to the steel, and keep to the steel, and if we have the uppermost I promise every man of you a gold noble when I come to minus date. Out of the odd collection of broken men, thieves, murderers, and ruined peasantry whom Duckworth had gathered together to serve the purposes of his revenge, some of the boldest and most experienced in war had volunteered to follow Richard Shelton. The service of watching Sir Janiel's movements in the town of Shorby had from the first been irksome to their temper, and they had of late began to grumble loudly and threatened to disperse. The prospect of a sharp encounter and possible spoils restored them to good humour, and they joyfully prepared for battle. Their long tabards, thrown aside, they appeared some in plain green jerkens, and some in stout leather and jacks, under their hoods many war bonnets strengthened by iron plates, and for offensive armour, swords, daggers, a few stout boars-beers, and a dozen of bright bills put them in a posture to engage even regular feudal troops. The bows, quivers, and tabards were concealed among the gorse, and the two bands set resolutely forward. Dick, when he had reached the other side of the house, posted his six men in a line about twenty yards from the garden wall, and took position himself a few paces in front. Then they all shouted with one voice and closed upon the enemy. These lying widely scattered, stiff with cold and taken unawares, sprang stupidly to their feet and stood undecided. Before they had time to get their courage about them, or even to form an idea of the number and metal of their assailants, a similar shout of onslaught sounded in their ears from the far side of the enclosure. Thereupon they gave themselves up for lost and ran. In this way the two small troops of the men of the black arrow closed upon the sea-front of the garden wall, and took a part of the strangers as it were, between two fires, while the whole of the remainder ran for their lives in different directions and were soon scattered in the darkness. For all that the fight was but beginning. Dick's outlaws, although they had the advantage of surprise, were still considerably outnumbered by the men they had surrounded. The tide had flowed in the meanwhile, the beach was narrowed to a strip, and on this wet field between the surf and the garden wall there began, in darkness, a doubtful, furious and deadly contest. The strangers were well armed. They fell in silence upon their assailants, and the effray became a series of single combats. Dick, who had come first into the melee, was engaged by three. The first he cut down at the first blow, but the other two coming upon him hotly, he was feigned to give ground before their onset. One of these two was a huge fellow, almost a giant for stature, and armed with a two-handed sword which he brandished like a switch. And this opponent, with his reach of arm and the length and weight of his weapon, Dick and his bill were quite defenceless. And had the other continued to join vigorously in the attack, the lad must have indubitably fallen. This second man, however, less in stature and slower in his movements, paused for a moment to peer about him in the darkness, and to give ear to the sounds of the battle. The giant still pursued his advantage, and still Dick fled before him, spying for his chance. Then the huge blade flashed and descended, and the lad leaping on one side and running in, slashed sideways and upwards with his bill. A roar of agony responded, and before the wounded man could raise his formidable weapon, Dick twice, repeating his blow, had brought him to the ground. The next moment he was engaged upon more equal terms with his second pursuer. Here there was no great difference in size, and though the man, fighting with sword and dagger against a bill, and being wary and quick of fence, had a certain superiority of arms, Dick more than made it up by his greater agility on foot. Neither at first gained any obvious advantage, but the older man was still immensely profiting by the ardor of the younger to lead him where he would, and presently Dick found that they had crossed the whole width of the beach, and were now fighting above the knees, in the spume and bubble of the breakers. Here his own superior activity was rendered useless. He found himself, more or less, at the discretion of his foe. Yet a little, and he had his back turned upon his own men, and saw that this adroit and skillful adversary was bent upon drawing him further and further away. Dick ground his teeth, he determined to decide the combat instantly, and when the wash of the next wave had ebbed, and left him dry, he rushed in, caught a blow upon his bill, and leaped right up the throat of his opponent. The man went down backwards, with Dick still upon the top of him, and the next wave, speedily succeeding the last, buried him below a rush of water. While he was still submerged, Dick forced his dagger from his grasp, and rose to his feet, victorious. Yeild ye, he said, I give you life. I yeild me, said the other, getting to his knees, ye fight like a young man, ignorantly and foolhardily. But by the array of the saints ye fight bravely. Dick turned to the beach. The combat was still raging doubtfully in the night. Over the hoarse roar of the breakers, steel clanged upon steel, and cries of pain and the shout of battle resounded. Leaped me to your captain-youth, said the conquered knight, it is fit this butchery should cease. Sir, replied Dick, so far as these brave fellows have a captain, the poor gentleman who addresses you as he. Call off your dogs, then, and I will bid my villains hold. Returned the other. There was something noble both in the voice and manner of his late opponent, and Dick instantly dismissed all fears of treachery. Lay down your arms, men, cried the stranger-night, I have yielded me upon promise of life. The tone of the stranger was one of absolute command, and almost instantly the din and confusion of the melee ceased. Lawless cried Dick, are you safe? I cried Lawless, safe and hearty. Light me the lantern, said Dick. Is not Sir Daniel here? inquired the knight. Sir Daniel echoed Dick, now by the rude I pray not. It would go ill with me if he were. Ill with you fair sir? inquired the other. Nay then, if ye be not of Sir Daniel's party, I profess I comprehend no longer. For then fell ye upon mine ambush, in what quarrel my young and very fiery friend. To what earthly purpose, and to make a clear end of questioning, to what good gentleman have I surrendered? But before Dick could answer a voice spoke in the darkness from close by. Dick could see the speaker's black and white badge, and the respectful salute which he addressed to his superior. My lord, said he, if these gentlemen be on friends to Sir Daniel, it is a pity indeed. We should have been at blows with them. But it were tenfold greater, that either they or we should linger here. The watchers in the house, unless they be all dead or death, have heard our hammering this quarter-hour agon. Instantly they have signalled to the town, and unless we be the livelier in our departure, we are like to be taken, both of us, by a fresh foe. He is in the right. Added the lord, how please ye, sir, whither shall we march? Nay, my lord, said Dick, go where ye will for me. I do begin to suspect. We have some ground of friendship, and if indeed I begin our acquaintance somewhat ruggedly. I would not churlishly continue. Let us then separate, my lord, ye laying your right hand in mine, and at the hour in place, that ye shall name, let us encounter and agree. Ye are too trustful, boy, said the other, but this time your trust is not misplaced. I will meet you at the point of day, at St. Pride's Cross. Come lads, follow. The strangers disappeared from the scene, with a rapidity that seemed suspicious, and while the outlaws fell to the congenial task of rifling the dead bodies, Dick made once more the circuit of the garden wall, to examine the front of the house. In a little upper loophole of the roof he beheld a light-set, and as it would certainly be visible in town, from the back windows of Sir Daniel's mansion, he doubted not that this was the signal feared by Hawksley, and that ere long the lances of the night of Tunstall would arrive upon the scene. He put his ear to the ground, and it seemed to him as if he heard a jarring and hollow noise from townward. Back to the beach he went, hurrying. But the work was already done, the last body was disarmed and stripped to the skin, and four fellows were already waiting seaward to commit it to the mercies of the deep. A few minutes later, when their deep-ouched out of the nearest lanes of Shoreby some two-score horsemen, hastily arrayed and moving at the gallop of their steeds, the neighborhood of the house beside the sea was entirely silent and deserted. While Dick and his men had returned to the ale-house of the goat and bag-pipes to snatch some hours of sleep before the morning-trist. End of Book Three, Chapter Two Book Three, Chapter Three, of the Black Arrow The Black Arrow by Robert Louis Stevenson Book Three, Chapter Three, St. Bride's Cross St. Bride's Cross stood a little way back from Shoreby on the skirts of Tunstall Forest. Two roads met, one from Hollywood across the forest, one that road from Rissington, down which we saw the wrecks of a Lankisterian army fleeing in disorder. Here the two joined issue, and went on together down the hill to Shoreby. And a little back from the point of junction the summit of a little gnoll was crowned by the ancient and weather-beaten cross. Here then, about seven in the morning, Dick arrived. It was as cold as ever. The earth was all grey and silver, with the whorefrost, and the day began to break in the east with many colors of purple and orange. Dick set him down upon the lowest step of the cross, wrapped himself well in his tabard, and looked vigilantly upon all sides. He had not long to wait. Down the road from Hollywood a gentleman in very rich and bright armor, and wearing over that a surcoat of the rarest furs, came pacing on a splendid charger. Twenty yards behind him followed a clump of Lancers, but these halted as soon as they came in view of the tristing place, while the gentleman in the first surcoat continued to advance alone. His visor was raised, and showed a countenance of great command and dignity, answerable to the richness of his attire and arms. Then it was with some confusion of manner that Dick arose from the cross and stepped down the bank to meet his prisoner. I thank you, my lord, for your exactitude, he said, loud and very low. Will it please your lordship to set foot to earth? Are you here alone, young man? inquired the other. I was not so simple, answered Dick, and to be plain with your lordship, the woods upon either hand of this cross lie full of mind-honest fellows lying on their weapons. You have done wisely, said the lord, it pleases me the rather, since last night ye fought foolheartedly, and more like a savage, serison lunatic than any Christian warrior, but it becomes not to me to complain that had the undermost. He had the undermost indeed, my lord, since ye so fell, returned Dick, but had the waves not opened me, it was I that should have had the worst. Ye were pleased to make me yours, with several dagger-marks, which I still carry, and in fine, my lord, me thinks I had all the danger, as well as all the profit, of that little blind man's medley on the beach. Ye are shrewd enough to make light of it, I see, returned the stranger. Nay, my lord, not shrewd, replied Dick, in that I shoot at no advantage to myself. But when, by the light of this new day, I see how stow to night hath yielded, not to my arms alone, but to fortune and the darkness, and the surf, and how easily the battle had gone otherwise, with a soldier so untried and rustic as myself, think it's not strange, my lord, if I feel confounded with my victory. Ye speak well, said the stranger, your name? My name, and like you, is Shelton, answered Dick. Men call me the Lord Foxham, added the other. And my lord, and under your good favour, ye are guardian to the sweetest maid in England, replied Dick. And for your ransom, and the ransom of such as were taken with you, on the beach, there will be no uncertainty of terms. I pray you, my lord, of your good will and charity. Yield me the hand of my mistress, Joan, suddenly, and take ye upon the other part your liberty, the liberty of these your followers, and if ye will have it, my gratitude and service till I die. But are ye not, ward to Sir Daniel, me thought of your hairy Shelton son, that I had heard it so reported? said Lord Foxham. Will it please you, my lord, to alight? I would feign tell you fully who I am, how situate, and why so bold in my demands. Beseech you, my lord, take place upon these steps. Hear me to a full end, and judge me with allowance. And so saying Dick lent a hand to Lord Foxham to dismount, led him up the knoll to the cross, installed him in the place where he had himself been sitting, and standing respectfully before his noble prisoner, related the story of his fortunes up to the events of the evening before. Lord Foxham listened gravely, and went Dick had done. Master Shelton, he said, ye are a most fortunate unfortunate young gentleman. But what fortune ye have had, that ye have amply merited, and what unfortunate ye have no ways deserved, ye have good cheer, for ye have made a friend who is devoid neither of power nor favour. For yourself, although it fits not for a person of your birth to herd without laws, I must own ye are both brave and honorable. Very dangerous in battle, right courteous in peace, a youth of excellent disposition, and brave bearing. For your estates ye will never see them, till the world shall change again. So long as Lancaster hath the strong hand, so shall Sir Daniel enjoy them for his own. For my ward it is another matter. I had promised her before to a gentleman, a kinsman of my house, one Hamley, the promise is old. I am a Lord, and now Sir Daniel hath promised her to my Lord Shorby, interrupted Dick, and this promise, for all it is but young, is still the likelier to be made good. To his the plain truth, returned his Lordship, and considering moreover, that I am your prisoner upon no better composition than my bare life, and over and above that, that the maiden is unhappily in other hands, I will so far consent. Aid me with your good fellows. My Lord, cried Dick, they are these same outlaws that ye blame me for consorting with. Let them be what they will, they can fight. Returned Lord Foxham, help me then, and if between us we regain the maid, upon my nightly honour, she shall marry you. Dick bent his knee before his prisoner, but he, leaping up lightly from the cross, caught the lad up, and embraced him like a son. Come! he said, and ye are to marry Joan, we must be early friends. CHAPTER IV. An hour thereafter, Dick was back at the goat and bagpipes, breaking his fast and receiving the report of his messengers and sentries. Duckworth was still absent from shoreby, and this was frequently the case, for he played many parts in the world, shared many different interests, and conducted many various affairs. He had founded that fellowship of the Black Arrow, as a ruin man longing for vengeance and money, and yet among those who knew him best, he was thought to be the agent and emissary of the Great Kingmaker of England, Richard Earl of Warwick. In his absence, at any rate, it fell upon Richard Shelton to command affairs in shoreby, and as he sat at meet, his mind was full of care, and his face heavy with consideration. It had been determined, between him and the Lord Foxham, to make one bold stroke that evening, and by brute force to set Joanna free. The obstacles, however, were many, and as one after another of his scouts arrived, each brought him more discomfortable news. Sir Daniel was alarmed by the skirmish of the night before. He had increased the garrison of the house in the garden, but not content with that, he had stationed horsemen in the neighbouring lanes so that he might have instant word of any movement. Meanwhile, in the court of his mansion, steeds stood saddled, and the riders, armed at every point, awaited but the signal to ride. The adventure of the night appeared more and more difficult of execution, till suddenly Dick's countenance lighted. Lawless, he cried, you that were a shipman, can you steal me a ship? Master Dick, replied Lawless, if he would back me, I would agree to steal the York Minster. Presently after, these two set forth and descended to the harbour. It was a considerable basin, lying among sand-hills, and surrounded with patches of down, ancient, ruinous lumber, and tumble-down slums of the town. Many decked ships, and many open boats, either lay there at anchor, or had been drawn up on the beach. A long duration of bad weather had driven them from the high seas into the shelter of the port, and the great trooping of black clouds, and the cold squalls that followed one after another, now with a sprinkling of dry snow, now in a mere swoop of wind, no improvement, but rather threatened a more serious storm in the immediate future. The seamen, in view of the cold and wind, had, for the most part, slunk ashore, and were now roaring and singing in the shore-side taverns. Many of the ships already rode unguarded at their anchors, and as the day wore on, and the weather offered, no appearance of improvement, the number was continually being augmented. It was to these deserted ships, and above all, to those of them that lay far out, that Lola's directed his attention, while Dick seated upon an anchor that was half embedded in the sand, and giving ear now to the rude, potent and boating voices of the gale, and now to the hoarse singing of the shipmen, in a neighbouring tavern, soon forgot his immediate surroundings and concerns in the agreeable recollection of Lord Foxon's promise. He was disturbed by a touch upon his shoulder. It was Lola's, pointing to a small ship that lay somewhat by itself, and within, but a little of the harbour mouth, where it heaved regularly and smoothly on the entering swell. A pale gleam of winter sunshine fell at that moment on the vessel's deck, relieving her against a bank of scowling cloud, and in this momentary glitter Dick could see a couple of men hauling the skiff alongside. There, sir, said Lola's, marquee it well. There is the ship for to-night. Presently the skiff put out from the vessel's side, and the two men, keeping their head well to the wind, pulled lustily for shore. Lola's turned to a loiterer. How call ye her? he asked, pointing to the little vessel. They call her the good hope of Dartmouth, replied the loiterer. Her captain, our blaster by name. She pulleth the bow-ore in yon skiff. This was all that Lola's wanted. Hurriedly thanking the man, he moved round the shore to a certain sandy creek, for which the skiff was heading. There he took up his position, and as soon as they were within earshot, opened fire on the sailors of the good hope. What! Gossip, our blaster! he cried. Why, ye be well met! May Gossip be right well met upon the rude. And this is the good hope. I, I would know her among ten thousand. A sweet shear, a sweet boat. But Mary come up, my Gossip, will ye drink? I have come into my estate, which doubtless ye remember to have heard on. I am now rich. I have left to sail upon the sea. I do sail now for the most part upon Spicedale. Come, fellow, thy hand upon it. Come, drink with an old ship, fellow. Skipper, our blaster, a long-faced, elderly, weather-beaten man, with a knife hanging about his neck by a plated cord, and for all the world, like any modern seaman, in his gate and bearing, had hung back in obvious amazement and distrust. But the name of an estate, and a certain air of tipsified simplicity, and good fellowship, which Lola's very well affected, combined to conquer his suspicious jealousy, his countenance relaxed, and he at once extended his open hand and squeezed that of the outlaw in a formidable grasp. Nay, he said, I cannot mind you, but what of that, I would drink with any man Gossip. And so would my man Tom. Man Tom, he added, addressing his follower, here is my Gossip, whose name I cannot mind, but no doubt a very good seaman. Let's go drink with him and his sure friend. This led the way, and they were soon seated in a nail-house, which, as it was very new, and stood in an exposed and solitary station, was less crowded than those nearer to the centre of the port. It was but a shed of timber, much like a block-house in the back woods of to-day, and was coarsely furnished with a press or two, a number of naked benches and boards set upon barrels to play the part of tables. In the middle, and besieged by half a hundred violent drafts, a fire of wrecked wood blazed and vomited thick smoke. I, now, said Lawless, here's a shipman's joy, a good fire and a good stiff cup of shore, with foul weather without, and an off-sea gale, a snoring in the roof. Here's to the good hope, may she ride easy. I, said Skipper, our blaster, tis good weather to be ashore in, that is sooth. And, Tom, how say ye to that? Gossip, ye speak well, though I can never think upon your name. But ye speak very well, may the good hope ride easy, amen. Friend Dickon, resumed Lawless, addressing his commander, ye have certain matters on hand, unless I err. Well, prithee be about them incontinently, for here I be with the choice of all good company, two tough old shipmen. While that ye return, I will go warrant these brave fellows will bide here and drink me cup for cup. We are not like shoremen, we old, tough, Terry Johns. It is well meant, returned the Skipper, ye can go, boy, for I will keep your good friend and my good gossip company till curfew, I, and by St. Mary till the sun get up again. For look ye, when a man hath been long enough at sea, the salt giddeth me into the clay upon his bones, and let him drink a draw well, he will never be quenched. Thus encouraged upon all hands, Dick Rose saluted his company, and going forth again into the gusty afternoon, got him as speedily as he might to the goat and bagpipes. Thence he sent word to my Lord Foxham, that, so soon as ever the evening closed, they would have a stout boat to keep the sea in. And then, leading along with him a couple of outlaws, who had some experience of the sea, he returned himself to the harbour and the little sandy creek. The skiff of the good hope lay among many others, from which it was easily distinguished by its extreme smallness and fragility. Indeed, when Dick and his two men had taken their places and begun to put forth out of the creek into the open harbour, the little cockle dipped into the swell, and staggered under every gust of wind, like a thing upon the point of sinking. The good hope, as we have said, was anchored far out, where the swell was heaviest. No other vessel lay nearer than several cables' length. Those that were the nearest were themselves entirely deserted, and as the skiff approached a thick flurry of snow and a sudden darkening of the weather further concealed the movements of the outlaws from all possible espiol. In a trice they had leaped upon the heaving deck and the skiff was dancing at the stern. The good hope was captured. She was a good stout boat, decked in the boughs and at midships, but open in the stern. She carried one mast, and was rigged between a falooka and a lugger. It would seem that skipper or blaster had made an excellent venture, for the hold was full of pieces of French wine, and in the little cabin, beside the Virgin Mary in the bulkhead, which proved the captain's piety, there were many lock-fast chests and cupboards which showed him to be rich and careful. A dog, who was the sole occupant of the vessel, furiously barked and bit the heels of the borders, but he was soon kicked into the cabin, and the door shut upon his just resentment. A lamp was lit and fixed in the shrouds to mark the vessel clearly from the shore. One of the wine-pieces in the hold was broached and a cup of excellent gascony emptied into the adventure of the evening, and then, while one of the outlaws began to get ready his bow and arrows and prepared to hold the ship against all comers, the other hauled in the skip and got overboard, where he held on, waiting for Dick. Well, Jack, keep a good watch, said the young Commander, preparing to follow his subordinate. Ye will do right well. Why, returned Jack, I shall do excellent well indeed, so long as we lie here, but once we put the nose of this poor ship outside the harbour, see, there she trembles, nay, the poor shrew heard the words, and the heart misgave her in her oak-tree ribs, but look, Master Dick, how black the weather gathers. The darkness ahead was indeed astonishing. Great billows heaved up out of the blackness, one after another, and one after another the good hope buoyantly climbed, and giddily plunged upon the further side. A thin sprinkle of snow, and thin flakes of foam, came flying, and powdered the deck, and the wind harped dismally among the rigging. In soothe it looks evilly, said Dick, but what cheer, tis but a squall, and presently it will blow over. But in spite of his words he was depressingly affected by the bleak disorder of the sky, and the wailing and fluting of the And as he got over the side of the good hope, and made once more for the landing-creek, with the best beat of oars, he crossed himself devoutly, and recommended to heaven the lives of all who should adventure on the sea. At the landing-creek there had already gathered about a dozen of the outlaws. To these the skiff was left, and they were bidden and bark without delay. A little further up the beach Dick found Lord Foxham hurrying in quest of him. His face concealed with a dark hood, and his bright armour, covered by a long russet mantle, of a poor appearance. Young Shelton, he said, are ye for sea, then, truly? My Lord! replied Richard, they lie about the house with horsemen. It may not be reached from the land side without alarm. And Sir Daniel, once advertised of our adventure, we can no more carry it to a good end, then. Saving your presence we could ride upon the wind. Now in going round by sea we do run some peril by the elements, but what much outweigheth all we have a chance to make good our purpose and bear off the maid. Well, returned Lord Foxham, late on, I will in some sort follow you for shame's sake, but I own I would I were in bed. Here, then, said Dick, here we go to fetch our pilot. And he led the way to the rude ale-house, where he had given rendezvous to a portion of his men. Some of these he found lingering round the door outside. Others had pushed more boldly in, and choosing place as near as possible to where they saw their comrade, gathered close about lawless and the two shipmen. These to judge by the distempered countenance and cloudy eye had long since gone beyond the boundaries of moderation. And as Richard entered, closely followed by Lord Foxham, they were all three, tuning up an old pitiful sea-ditty to the chorus of the wailing of the gale. The young leader cast a rapid glance about the shed. The fire had just been replenished, and gave forth volumes of black smoke, so that it was difficult to see clearly in the further corners. It was plain, however, that the outlaws very largely outnumbered the remainder of the guests. Satisfied upon this point, in case of any failure in the operation of his plan, Dick strode up to the table, and resumed his place upon the bench. Hey! cried the skipper tipsily, who are ye, hey? I want a word with you without, Master R. Blaster, returned Dick, and here is what we shall talk of. And he showed him a gold noble in the glimmer of the firelight. The shipmen's eyes burned, although he still failed to recognize our hero. Ah, boy! he said, I am with you. Gossip I will be back and on, drink fair gossip. And taking Dick's arm, to steady his uneven steps, he walked to the door of the ale-house. As soon as he was over the threshold, ten strong arms had seized and bound him. And in two minutes more, with his limbs, trust one to another, and a good gag in his mouth, he had been tumbled neck and crop into a neighbouring hay-burn. Presently his man Tom, similarly secured, was tossed beside him, and the pair were left to their uncouth reflections for the night. And now, as the time for concealment had gone by, Lord Foxon's followers were summoned by a pre-conserted signal, and the party, boldly taking possession of as many boats as their numbers required, pulled in a flotilla for the light in the rigging of the ship. Long before the last man had climbed to the deck of the good hope, the sound of furious shouting from the shore showed that a part, at least, of the seamen had discovered the loss of their skiffs. But it was now too late, whether for recovery or revenge. Out of some forty fighting men, now mustered in the stolen ship, eight had been to sea, and could play the part of mariners. With the aid of these, a slice of sail was got upon her, the cable was cut. Lawless, vacillating on his feet, and still shouting the chorus of sea-ballads, took the long tiller in his hands, and the good hope began to flip forward into the darkness of the night, and to face the great waves beyond the harbour-bar. Richard took his place beside the weather-rigging, except for the ship's own lantern and for some lights in shoreby town that were already fading to leeward. The whole world of air was as black as in a pit. Only from time to time, as the good hope swooped dizzily down into the valley of the rollers, a crest would break, a great cataract of snowy foam would leap in one instant into being, and in an instant more would stream into the wake and vanish. Many of the men lay holding on and praying aloud. Many more were sick, and had crept into the bottom, where they sprawled among the cargo. And what, with the extreme violence of the motion, and the continued drunken bravado of Lawless, still shouting and singing at the helm, the stoutest heart on board may have nourished a shrewd misgiving as to the result. But Lawless, as if guided by an instant, steered the ship across the breakers, struck the lee of a great sand-bank where they sailed for a while in smooth water, and presently after, laid her alongside a rude stone pier, where she was hastily made fast, and laid ducking and grinding in the dark. Book III The Good Hope continued. The pier was not far distant from the house in which Joanna lay. It now only remained to get the men on shore, to surround the house with a strong party, burst in the door, and carry off the captive. They might then regard themselves as done with the Good Hope. It had placed them on the rear of their enemies, and the retreat, whether they should succeed or fail in the main enterprise, would be directed with a greater measure of hope in the direction of the forest and my Lord Fawcum's reserve. To get the men on shore, however, was no easy task. Many had been sick, all were pierced with cold. The promiscuity and disorder on board had shaken their discipline. The movement of the ship and the darkness of the night had cowed their spirits. They made a rush upon the pier. My Lord, with his soaring drawn on his own retainers, must throw himself in front, and this impulse of roblement was not restrained without a certain clamour of voices, highly to be regretted in the case. When some degree of order had been restored, Dick, with a few chosen men, set forth in advance, the darkness on shore, by contrast with the flashing of the surf, appeared before him like a solid body, and the howling and whistling of the gale, drowned any lesser noise. He had scarce reached the end of the pier, however, when there fell a lull of the wind, and in this he seemed to hear on shore the hollow footing of horses and the clash of arms. Checking his immediate followers, he passed forward a step or two alone, even setting foot upon the down. And here he made sure he could detect the shape of men and horses moving. A strong discouragement assailed him. If their enemies were really on the watch, if they had beleaguered the shoreward end of the pier, he and Lord Foxham were taken in a posture of very poor defence, the sea behind, the men jostled in the dark upon the narrow causeway. He gave a cautious whistle, the signal previously agreed upon. It proved to be a signal for more than he desired. Instantly there fell, through the black night, a shower of arrows sent at a venture, and so close were the men huddled on the pier, that more than one was hit, and the arrows were answered with cries of both fear and pain. In this first discharge Lord Foxham was struck down, hoxley had him carried on board again a twence, and his men, during the brief remainder of the skirmish, fought, when they fought at all, without guidance. That was, perhaps, the chief cause of the disaster which made haste to follow. At the shore end of the pier, for perhaps a minute, Dick held his own with a handful. One or two were wounded upon either side. Steel crossed steel. Nor had there been the least signal of advantage, when, in the twinkling of an eye, the tide turned against the party from the ship. Someone cried out that all was lost. The men were in very humor to lend an ear to a discomfortable council. The cry was taken up, on board lads for your lives. Cried another. A third, with the true instinct of the coward, raised that inevitable report on all retreats. We are betrayed. And in a moment the whole mass of men went surging and jostling backward down the pier, turning their defences backs on their pursuers, and piercing the night with craven outcry. One coward thrust off the ship's stern, while another still held her by the boughs. The fugitives leaped, screaming, and were hauled on board, or fell back and perished in the sea. Some were cut down upon the pier by the pursuers. Many were injured on the ship's deck, in the blind haste and terror of the moment. One men leaping upon another, and a third on both. At last, and whenever by design or accident, the boughs of the good hope were liberated, and ever-ready lalas, who had maintained his place at the helm, through all the hurly-burly, by sheer strength of body, and a liberal use of the cold steel, instantly clapped her on the proper tack. The ship began to move once more forward on the stormy sea, its scuppers running blood, its deck heaped with fallen men, sprawling and struggling in the dark. Thereupon lalas sheathed his dagger, and turning to his next neighbor. I have left my mark on them gossip, said he, the yelping, cowered hounds. Now while they were all leaping and struggling for their lives, the men had not appeared to observe the rough shoves and cutting stabs, with which lalas had held his post in the confusion. But perhaps they had already begun to understand somewhat more clearly, or perhaps another ear had overheard the helmsman's speech. Panic-stricken troops recover slowly, and men who have just disgraced themselves by cowardice as if to wipe out the memory of their fault will sometimes run straight into the opposite extreme of insubordination. So it was now, and the same men who had thrown away their weapons, and been hauled, feet foremost, into the good hope, began to cry out upon their leaders, and demand that some one should be punished. This growing ill-feeling turned upon lalas. In order to get a proper offing, the old outlaw had put the head of the good hope to Seaward. What! bawled one of the grumblers, he carryeth us to Seaward. To soothe, cried another, Nay, we are betrayed for sure. And they all began to cry out in chorus that they were betrayed, and in shrill tones, and with abominable o's, bade lalas go about ship, and bring them speedily ashore. Lalas, grinding his teeth, continued in silence to steer the true course, guiding the good hope among the formidable billows. To their empty terrors, as to their dishonourable threats, between drink and dignity, he scorned to make reply. The mel-contents drew together a little abaft the mast, and it was plain, they were like barnyard cocks, crowing for courage. Presently they would be fit for any extremity of injustice or ingratitude. Dick began to mount by the ladder, eager to interpose, but one of the outlaws, who was also something of a seamen, got beforehand. Lads! he began, ye right wooden heads, I think, for to get back by the mast. We must have an offing, must we not. And this old lalas? Someone struck the speaker on the mouth, and the next moment, as a fire springs among dry straw, he was felled upon the deck, trampled under the feet, and dispatched by the daggers of his cowardly companions. At this the wrath of lalas rose and broke. Stere yourselves! he bellowed with a curse, and, careless of the result, he left the helm. The good hope was, at that moment, trembling on the summit of a ship. She subsided, with sickening velocity upon the further side. A wave, like a great black bulwark, hove immediately in front of her, and with a staggering blow she plunged head foremost, through that liquid hill. The green water passed right over her, from stem to stern, as high as a man's knees. The sprays ran higher than the mast. And she rose again upon the other side, with an appalling tremulous indecision, like a beast that had been deadly wounded. Six or seven of the malcontents had been carried bodily overboard, and as for the remainder, when they found their tongues again, it was to bellow to the saints, and wail upon lalas, to come back and take the tiller. Nor did lalas wait to be twice bidden. The terrible result of his fling, of just resentment, sobered him completely. He knew, better than anyone on board, how nearly the good hope had gone bodily down below their feet. And he could tell, by the laziness, with which she met the sea, that the peril was by no means over. Dick, who had been thrown down by the concussion, and half drowned, rose, waiting to his knees, in the swamped well of the stern, and crept to the old helmsman's side. Lalas, he said, we do all depend on you. You are a brave, steady man, indeed and crafty in the management of ships. I shall put three sure men to watch upon your safety. Bootless, my master, bootless, said the stearman, peering forward through the dark. We come every moment, somewhat clearer of these sandbanks. With every moment then, the sea packeth upon us heavier. And for all these whimperers, they will presently be on their backs. For, my master, tis a right mystery, but true, there never yet was a bad man, that was a good shipman. None but the honest and the bold can endure me this tossing of a ship. Nay, Lalas, said Dick, laughing, that is a right shipman's byword, and half no more of sense than the whistle of the wind. But, prithee, how go we? Do we lie well? Are we in good case? Master Shelton replied, Lalas, I have been a gray fryer. I praise fortune, an archer, a thief, and a shipman. Of all these codes I had the best fancy to die in the gray friars, as ye may readily conceive, and the least fancy to die in John Shipman's terry jacket. And for that two excellent good reasons. First, that the death might take a man suddenly, and second, for the horror of that great salt smother and welter under my foot here. And Lalas stamped his foot, how be it, he went on, and I die not a sailor's death, and that this night I shall owe a tall candle to our lady. Is it so? asked Dick. It is right so, replied the outlaw. Do ye not feel how heavy and dull she moves upon the waves? Do ye not hear the water washing in her hold? She will scarce mind the rudder even now. Bide, till she has settled a bit lower, and she will go down below your boots, like a stone image, or drive a shore here, to our lee, and to come all to pieces, like a twist of string. Ye speak with a good courage. Return, Dick, ye are not then appalled. Why, master? answered Lalas, if ever a man had an ill crew to come to port with, it is I, a renegade friar, a thief, and all the rest on it. Well, ye may wonder, but I keep a good hope in my wallet, and if that I be to drown, I will drown with a bright eye, Mr. Shelton, and a steady hand. Dick returned, no answer, but was surprised to find the old vagabond of so resoluta temper, and fearing some fresh violence or treachery, set forth upon his quest for three sure men. The great bulk of the men had now deserted the deck, which was continually wedded with the flying sprays, and where they lay exposed to the shrewdness of the winter wind. They had gathered instead into the hold of the merchandise, among the butts of wine, and lighted by two swinging lanterns. Here a few kept up the form of revelry, and toasted each other deep in our blaster's gaskony wine. But as the good hope continued to tear through the smoking waves, and toss her stem and stern alternately high in the air, and deep into white foam, the number of these jolly companions diminished with every moment and with every lurch. Many sat apart, tending their hurts, but the majority were already prostrated with sickness, and lay moaning in the bilge. Greenchieve, Cochal, and a young fellow of Lord Foxham's, whom Dick had already remarked for his intelligence and spirit, were still however both fit to understand and willing to obey. These Dick set as a bodyguard about the person of the steersman, and then, with a last look at the black sky and sea, he turned and went below, into the cabin, wither Lord Foxham had been carried by his servants. of the wounded baron blended with the wailing of the ship's dog. The poor animal, whether he was merely sick at heart to be separated from his friends, or whether he indeed recognized some peril in the laboring of the ship, raised his cries like minute guns above the roar of wave and weather, and the more superstitious of the men heard in these sounds the knell of the good hope. Lord Foxham had been laid in a berth upon a fur cloak. A little lamp burned dim before the virgin in the bulkhead, and by its glimmer Dick could see the pale countenance and hollow eyes of the hurt man. I am sore hurt, said he, come near to my side, young Shelton, let there be one by me, who at least is gentle-born. For after having lived nobly and richly all the days of my life, this is a sad pass that I should get my hurt in a little ferriting skirmish and die here, in a foul cold ship upon the sea, among broken men and churls. Name my lord, said Dick, I rather pray to the saint, that ye will recover you of your hurt, and come soon and sound ashore. How? demanded his lordship. Come sound ashore, there is then a question of it. The ship laboreth, the sea is grievous, and contrary replied the lad, and by what I can learn of my fellow that steereth us, we shall do well indeed, if we come dryshod to land. Ha! said the barren gloomily, the shall every terror attend upon the passage of my soul. Sir, pray rather to live hard, that ye may die easy, than to be fooled and fluted all through your life, as to the pipe and table, and in the last hour to be plunged among misfortunes. How be it, I have that upon my mind, that must not be delayed. We have no priest aboard. None, replied Dick. Here, then, to my secular interests. Resumed Lord Foxham, ye must be as good a friend to me dead, as I found you a gallant enemy when I was living. I fall in an evil hour for me, for England, and for them that trusted me. My men are being brought by Hamley, he that was your rival. They will rendezvous in the long room at Hollywood. This ring from off my finger will accredit you to represent mine orders. And I shall write, besides, two words upon this paper. Bidding Hamley yield to you the damsel. Will ye obey? I know not. But my lord, what orders? inquired Dick. I, quote the barren, I, the orders. And he looked upon Dick with hesitation. Are ye Lancaster or York? He asked at length. I shame to say it, answer Dick. I can scarce clearly answer. But so much I think certain. Since I serve with Ellis Duckworth, I serve the house of York. Well, if that be so, I declare for York. It is well. Return the other. It is exceeding well. For truly, Hedgie said Lancaster, I what nod for the world would I had done. But Sithie, or for York, follow me. I came hither but to watch these lords at Shoreby, while my excellent young lord, Richard of Gloucester, prepareth a sufficient force to fall upon and scatter them. I have made me notes of their strength, that watch they keep, and how they lie. And these I was to deliver to my young lord on Sunday, an hour before noon, at St. Bride's Cross beside the forest. This trust I am not likely to keep. But I pray you, of courtesy, to keep it in my stead. And see that not pleasure nor pain, tempest wound nor pestilence withholds you from the hour in place, for the welfare of England lieth upon this cast. I do soberly take this upon me, said Dick, insofar as in me lieth, your purpose shall be done. It is good, said the wounded man. My lord Duke shall order your father, and if ye obey him with spirit and good will, then is your fortune made. Give me the lamp, a little nearer to mine eyes, till that I write these words for you. He wrote a note, to his worshipful kinsman Sir John Hamley, and then a second, which he left without external superscription. This is for the Duke, he said. The word is England and Edward, and the counter, England and York. And Joanna, my lord? asked Dick. Nay, ye must get Joanna how ye can. Replied the Baron, I have named you for my choice in both these letters. But ye must get her for yourself, boy. I have tried, as ye see here before you, and have lost my life. More could no man do. By this time the wounded man began to be very weary, and Dick, putting the precious papers in his bosom, bade him be of good cheer, and left him to repose. The day was beginning to break, cold and blue, with flying squalls of snow. Close under the lee of the good hope, the coast lay in alternate rocky headlands, and sandy bays, and further inland the wooded hill-tops of Tunstall showed along the sky. Both the wind and the sea had gone down, but the vessel wallowed deep, and scarce rows upon the waves. Lawless was still fixed at the rudder, and by this time nearly all the men had crawled on deck, and were now gazing with blank faces upon the inhospitable coast. Are we going ashore? asked Dick. Aye, said Lawless, unless we get first to the bottom. And just then the ship rose so languidly to me to see, and the water weltered so loudly in her hold, that Dick involuntarily seized the steersman by the arm. By the mass! cried Dick, as the bows of the good hope reappeared above the foam. I thought we had found it indeed, my heart was at my throat. In the waste, Green Sheave, Huxley, and the better men of both companies were busy breaking up the deck to build a raft, and to these Dick joined himself, working the harder to drown the memory of his predicament. But even as he worked, every sea that struck the poor ship, and every one of her dull lurches as she tumbled wallowing among the waves, recalled him with a horrid pang to the immediate proximity of death. Presently, looking up from his work, he saw that they were close in below a promontory, a piece of ruinous cliff against the base of which the sea broke, white and heavy, almost overplumped the deck, and above that again a house appeared, crowning a down. Inside the bay, the seas ran gaily, raised the good hope upon her foam-flex shoulders, carried her beyond the control of the steersmen, and in a moment dropped her with a great concussion on the sand, and began to break over her, half-mast high, and roll her to and fro. Another great wave followed, raised her again, and carried her yet further in, and then a third succeeded, and left her far inshore of the more dangerous breakers wedged upon a bank. Now, boys, cried Lawless, the saints have had a care of us indeed, the tide ebbs, let us but sit down and drink a cup of wine, and before half an hour ye may all march me ashore as safe as on a bridge. A barrel was broached, and, sitting in what shelter they could find, from the flying snow and spray, the shipwrecked company handed the cup around, and sought to warm their bodies and restore their spirits. Dick meanwhile returned to Lord Foxham, who lay in great perplexity and fear, the floor of his cabin, washing knee deep in water, and the lamp which had been his only light, broken and extinguished by the violence of the blow. My Lord, said Young Shelton, fear not at all, the saints are plainly for us, the seas have cast us high upon a shoal, and, as soon as the tide hath somewhat ebbed, we may walk ashore upon our feet. It was nearly an hour before the vessel was sufficiently deserted by the ebbing sea, and they could set forth for the land, which appeared dimly before them through a veil of driving snow. Upon a hillock on one side of their way, a party of men lay huddled together, suspiciously observing the movements of the new arrivals. They might draw near and offer us some comfort, Dick remarked, Well, and they come not to us, let us even turn aside to them. Said Hoxley, this sooner we come to a good fire and a dry bed, the better for my poor Lord. But they had not moved far in the direction of the hillock, before the men, with one consent, rose suddenly to their feet, and poured a flight of well-directed arrows on the shipwreck company. Back, back, cried his lordship, beware in heaven's name that you reply not. Nay, cried Greensheave, pulling an arrow from his leather jack. We are in no posture to fight, it is certain, being drenching wet, dog weary, and three parts frozen, but for the love of old England, what ale of them to shoot thus cruelly on their poor country people in distress? They take us to be French pirates, answered Lord Foxham. In these most troublesome and degenerate days we cannot keep our own shores of England, but our old enemies, whom we once chased on the sea and land, do now range at pleasure, robbing and slaughtering and burning. It is the pity and reproach of this poor land. The men upon the hillock lay closely observing them, while they trailed upward from the beach, and wound inland among desolate sand-hills. For a mile or so they even hung upon the rear of the march, ready at a sign, to pour another volley on the weary and dispirited fugitives. When it was only when, striking at length upon a firm high road, Dick began to call his men to some more martial order, that these jealous guardians of the coast of England silently disappeared among the snow. They had done what they desired. They had protected their own homes and farms, their own families and cattle, and their private interests, being thus secured. It mattered not the weight of a straw to any one of them, although the Frenchmen should carry blood and fire to every other parish in the realm of England. The place where Dick had struck the line of a high road was not far from Hollywood, and within nine or ten miles of shore beyond the tail. And here, after making sure that they were pursued no longer, the two bodies separated. Lord Foxham's followers departed, carrying their wounded master towards the comfort and security of the great Abbey. And Dick, as he saw them wind away and disappear in the thick curtain of the falling snow, was left alone, with near upon a dozen outlaws, the last remainder of his troop of volunteers. Some were wounded, one and all were furious at their ill success and long exposure. And though they were now too cold and hungry to do more, they grumbled and cast sullen looks upon their leaders. Dick emptied his purse among them, leaving himself nothing. Thank them for the courage they had displayed, though he could not have found it more readily in his heart, to rate them for paltrunary, and having thus somewhat softened the effect of his prolonged misfortune, dispatched them to find their way, either severally or in pairs, to shoreby and the goat and bagpipes. For his own part, influenced by what he had seen on board of the good hope, he chose Lawless to be his companion on the walk. The snow was falling, without pause or variation, in one even blinding cloud. The wind had been strangled, and now blew no longer, and the whole world was blotted out, and sheeted down below that silent inundation. There was great danger of wandering by the way, and perishing in drifts, and Lawless, keeping a half a step in front of his companion, and holding his head forward like a hunting dog upon the scent, inquired his way of every tree, and studied out their path, as though he were coning a ship among dangers. About a mile into the forest they came to a place where several ways met, under a grove of lofty and contorted oaks. Even in the narrow horizon on the falling snow, it was a spot that could not fail to be recognized, and Lawless evidently recognized it with particular delight. "'Now, Master Richard,' said he, and ye are not too proud to be the guest of a man who is neither a gentleman by birth, nor so much as a good Christian, I can offer you a cup of wine and a good fire to melt the marrow in your frozen bones. "'Lead on, well,' answered Dick, a cup of wine and a good fire, nay, I would go a fair way round to see them.' Lawless turned aside under the bare branches of the grove, and, walking resolutely forward for some time, came to a steepish hollower den that had now drifted a quarter full of snow. On the verge of a great beech-tree hung precariously rooted, and here the old outlaw, pulling aside some brushy underwood, bodily disappeared into the earth. The beech had, in some violent gale, been half uprooted, and had torn up a considerable stretch of turf, and it was under this that Lawless had dug out his forest hiding-place. The root served him for rafters. The turf was his thatch, for walls and floor he had his mother the earth. Good as it was, the hearth in one corner blackened by fire, and the presence in another of a large oaken chest, well fortified with iron, showed it at one glance to be the den of a man and not the burrow of a digging beast. Though the snow had drifted at the mouth and sifted in upon the floor of this earth cavern, yet was the air much warmer than without. And when Lawless had struck a spark and the dry firs' bushes had begun to blaze and crackle on the hearth, the place assumed, even to the eye, an air of comfort and of home. With a sigh of great contentment, Lawless spread his broad hands before the fire, and seemed to breathe the smoke. Here, then, he said, is this old Lawless rabbit-hole, pray heaven, there come no terrier. Far have I rolled hither and thither, and here and about, since that I was fourteen years of my age, and first ran away from my nabby, with a sacrous gold chain and a mass-book, that I sold for four marks. I have been in England and France and Burgundy, and in Spain too, on a pilgrimage for my poor soul, and upon the sea, which is no man's country. But here is my place, Master Shelton. This is my native land, this burrow in the earth. Come rain or wind, whether it's April, and the birds all sing, and the blossoms fall about my bed, or whether it's winter, and I sit alone with my good gossip the fire, and rob in red breast, twitters in the woods. Here is my church and market, my wife and child, it is here I come back to, and it is here, so please the saints, that I would like to die. "'Tis a warm corner to be sure,' replied Dick, and a pleasant and a well-hid. It had need to be. Returned lawless. For and they found it, Master Shelton, it would break my heart. But here—' He added, burrowing his stout fingers in the sandy floor. Here is my wine-cellar, and ye shall have a flask of excellent strong stingo. Sure enough, but after a little digging, he produced a big leatheren bottle of about a gallon, nearly three parts full, of a very heady and sweet wine, and when they had drunk to each other, readily, and the fire had been replenished, and blazed up again, the pear lay at full length, thawing and steaming, and divinely warm. "'Master Shelton, observe the outlaw, you have had two mischances this last while, and you are like to lose the maid. Do I take it a right?' "'A right,' returned Dick, nodding his head. "'Well, now,' continued lawless, here an old fool, that hath been nigh-hand everything, and seen nigh-hand all. Ye go too much on other people's errands, Master Dick. Ye go on Ellis's, but he desireeth rather the death of Sir Daniel. Ye go on Lord Foxham's, well, the saints preserve him. Doubtless he meaneth well, but go ye upon your own good Dick. Come right to the maid's side.' "'Cort her, lest she forget you, be ready, and when the chance shall come, off with her at the saddle-bow.' "'Aye, but lawless, beyond doubt, she is now in Sir Daniel's own mansion,' answered Dick. "'Vither, then, go we,' replied the outlaw. Dick stared at him. "'Nay, I mean it,' nodded lawless, and if year of so little faith then stumble at a word, see here.' And the outlaw, taking a key from about his neck, opened the oak chest, and dipping and groping deep among its contents, used first a fryer's robe, and next a girdle of rope, and then a huge rosary of wood, heavy enough to be counted as a weapon. "'Here,' he said, is for you, on with them.' And then, when Dick had clothed himself in this clerical disguise, lawless produced some colours and a pencil, and proceeded with greatest cunning to disguise his face. The eyebrows he thickened and produced, to the mustache which was yet hardly visible, he rendered a like service. While by a few lines round his eye he changed the expression and increased the apparent age of this young monk. "'Now,' he resumed, when I have done the like, we shall make as Bonnie a pair of fryer as the eye could wish. Boldly to Sir Daniel's we shall go, and there be hospitably welcome for the love of mother-church. "'And how, dear lawless?' cried the lad, "'Shall I repay you?' "'Tot, brother,' replied the outlaw, "'I do not, but for my pleasure. Mine not for me. I am one, by the mass, that mindeth for himself. When that I lack, I have a long tongue and a voice like the monastery bell. I do ask my son, and where asking phallus I do most usually take.' The old rogue made a humorous grimace, and although Dick was displeased, to lie under so great favours, to so equivocal a personage, he was yet unable to restrain his mirth. With that Lawless returned to the big chest, and was soon similarly disguised, but below his gown Dick wondered to observe him conceal a sheaf of black arrows. "'Wherefore do ye that?' asked the lad. "'Wherefore arrows, when ye take no bow?' "'Nay,' replied Lawless lightly. "'Tis like there will be heads broke, not to say back. Air, you and I win sound, from where we are going to, and if any fail, I would our fellowship would come by the credit on it. A black arrow, Master Dick, is the seal of our abbey. It showeth you who writ the bill.' "'And ye prepare so carefully,' said Dick, "'I have here some papers that, for my own sake, and the interest of those that trusted me, were better left behind than found upon my body. Where shall I conceal them well?' "'Nay,' replied Lawless, I will go forth into the wood, and whistle me three verses of a song. Meanwhile, do you bury them, where ye please, and smooth the sand upon the place?' "'Never,' cried Richard, I trust you, man, I were base indeed if I not trusted you.' "'Brother, ye are but a child,' replied the old Outlaw, passing and turning his face upon Dick, from the threshold of the Den. I am a kind old Christian, and no traitor to men's blood, and no spare of my known in a friend's jeopardy. But fool, child, I am a thief by trade and birth and habit. If my bottle were empty and my mouth dry, I would rob you, dear child, as sure as I love, honour, and admire your parts and can it be clearer spoken, no.' And he stumped forth through the bushes, with a snap of his big fingers. Dick thus left alone, after a wondering thought upon the inconsistencies of his companion's character, hastily produced, reviewed, and buried his papers. One only he reserved to carry along with him, since it in no ways compromised his friends, and yet might serve him in a pinch against Sir Daniel. That was the night's own letter, to Lord Wensleydale, sent by Throgmorton on the morrow of the Defeat at Rizingham, and found next day by Dick upon the body of the messenger. Then treading down the embers of the fire, Dick left the Den, and rejoined the old Outlaw, who stood awaiting him under the leafless oaks, and was already beginning to be powdered by the falling snow. Each looked upon the other, and each laughed so thorough and so droll was the disguise. Yet I would, it were but summer, and a clear day, grumbled the Outlaw, that I might see myself in the mirror of a pool. There may be many of Sir Daniel's men that know me, and if we fell to be recognized, there might be two words for you, my brother, but as for me, in a pattern-oastern while, I should be kicking in a rope's end. Thus they set forth, together along the road to Shorby, which in this part of its course kept near the margin of a forest, coming forth from time to time in the open country, and passing beside poor folk's houses and small farms. Presently, at the sight of one of these, Lawless pulled up. Brother Martin, he said in a voice, capitably disguised, and suited to his monkish robe, let us enter and seek alms from these poor sinners. I, he added, in his own voice, tis as I feared. I have somewhat lost the wine of it, and, by your leave, good Master Shelton, you must suffer me to practice in these country places, before that I risk my fat neck by entering Sir Daniel's. But look ye a little, what an excellent thing it is, to be a jack of all trades. And I had not been a shipment, ye had infallibly gone down in the good hope, and I had not been a thief, I could not have painted me your face, and but that I had been a gray friar, and sung loud in the choir, and ate hearty at the board, I could not have carried this disguise, but the very dogs would have spied us out, and barked at us for shams. He was, by this time, close to the window of the farm, and he rose on his tiptoes and peeped in. Nay, he cried, better and better, we shall hear try our false faces with a vengeance, and have a married chest and brother capper to boot. And so, saying, he opened the door, and led the way into the house. Three of their own company sat at the table, greedily eating. Their daggers, stuck beside them in the board, and the black and menacing looks, which they continued to shower upon the people of the house, proved that they owed their entertainment rather to force than favour. On the two monks, who now, with a sort of humble dignity, entered the kitchen of the farm, they seemed to turn with a particular resentment. And one, it was John Capper in person, who seemed to play the leading part, instantly and rudely ordered them away. We watch no beggars here, he cried. But another, although he was far from recognizing dick and lawless, inclined to more moderate counsels. Not so, he cried, we be strong men and take, these be weak and crave, but in the latter end these shall be uppermost and we below. Ain't him not my father, but come, drink of my cup, and give me a benediction. Ye are men of a light mind, carnal and accursed, said the monk. Now may the saints forbid that I ever should drink with such companions, but here, for the pity I bear to sinners, here I do leave you a blessed relic, the witch, for your soul's interest, I bid you kiss and cherish. So far lawless thundered upon them, like a preaching friar. But with these words he drew from under his robe, a black arrow, tossed it on the board in front of the three startled outlaws, turned in the same instant, and, taking dick along with him, was out of the room and out of sight among the falling snow, before they had time to utter a word or move a finger. So, he said, we have proved our faults' faces, Master Shelton, I will now adventure my poor carcass, where ye please. Good! returned Richard. It irks me to be doing. Sit we on for sure, be. End of Book 4, Chapter 1 Book 4, Chapter 2 of the Black Arrow This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org. The Black Arrow by Robert Lewis Stevenson. Book 4, Chapter 2 In My Enemies House Sir Daniel's residence in Shoreby was a tall, commodious, plastered mansion, framed in carbon oak, and covered by a low-pitched roof of thatch. To the back there stretched a garden, full of fruit trees, alleys, and thick arbours, and overlooked, from the far end, by the tower of the Abbey Church. The house might contain, upon a pinch, the retinue of a greater person than Sir Daniel, but even now it was filled with hubbub. The court rang with arms and horseshoe-iron. The kitchen roared with cookery, like a bee's hive. Minstrels and the players of instruments, and the cries of tumblers, sounded from the hall. Sir Daniel in his profusion, in the gaiety and gallantry of his establishment, rivaled with Lord Shoreby, and eclipsed Lord Rissingham. All guests were made welcome, minstrels, tumblers, players of chess, cellars of relics, medicines, perfumes, and enchantments, and along with these every sort of priest, friar, or pilgrim were made welcome to the lower table, and slept together in the ample lofts or on the bare boards of the long dining-hall. On the afternoon, following the wreck of the good hope, the buttery, the kitchens, the stables, the covered cart shed that surrounded two sides of the court, were all crowded by idle people, partly belonging to Sir Daniel's establishment, and attired in his livery of Murray and Blue, partly nondescript strangers attracted to the town by greed, and received by the night through policy, and because it was the fashion of the time. The snow, which still fell without interruption, the extreme chill of the air, and the approach of night, combined to keep them under shelter. Wine, ale, and money were all plentiful. Many sprawled gambling in the straw of the barn. Many were still drunken from the noontide meal. To the eye of a modern it would have looked like a sack of a city. To the eye of a contemporary it was like any other rich and noble household at a festive season. Two monks, a young and an old, had arrived late, and were now warming themselves at a bonfire in a corner of the shed. A mixed crowd surrounded them, jugglers, monta-banks, and soldiers, and with these the elder of the two had soon exchanged so brisker conversation, and exchanged so many loud guffaws, and country witticisms, that the group momentarily increased in number. The younger companion, in whom the reader has already recognized Dick Shelton, sat from the first, somewhat backward, and gradually drew himself away. He listened, indeed, closely, but he opened not his mouth, and by the grave expression of his countenance he made but little account of his companion's pleasantries. At last his eye, which travelled continually to and fro, and kept a gird upon all the entrances of the house, lit upon a little procession entering by the main gate, and crossing the court in an oblique direction. Two ladies, muffled in thick furs, led the way, and were followed by a pair of waiting women, and four stout, men-at-arms. The next moment they had disappeared within the house, and Dick, slipping through the crowd of loiterers in the shed, was already giving hot pursuit. The taller of these twain was Lady Brackley, he thought, and where Lady Brackley is, Joan will not be far. At the door of the house the four men-at-arms had ceased to follow, and the ladies were now mounting the stairway of polished oak, under no better escort than that of the two waiting women. Dick followed close behind. It was already the dusk of the day, and in the house the darkness of the night had almost come. On the stair-landings torches flared in iron-holders. Down the long tapestry corridors a lamp burned by every door. And where the door stood open Dick could look in upon heiress-covered walls, and rushby-scattered floors, glowing in the light of the wood-fires. Two floors were passed, and at every landing the younger and shorter of the two ladies had looked back keenly at the monk, he keeping his eyes lowered and affecting the demure manners that suited his disguise, had but seen her once, and was unaware that he had attracted her attention. And now on the third floor the party separated, the younger lady continuing to ascend alone, the other, followed by the waiting maids, descended the corridor to the right. Dick mounted with a swift foot, and holding to the corner thrust forth his head and followed the three women with his eyes. Without turning or looking behind them they continued to descend the corridor. It is right well, thought Dick, let me but know my Lady Brackley's chamber, and it will go hard, and I find not Dame Hatt upon an errand. And just then a hand was laid upon his shoulder, and, with a bound and a choked cry, he turned to grapple his assailant. He was somewhat abashed to find, in the person whom he had so roughly seized, the short young lady in the furs. She on her part was shocked and terrified beyond expression, and hung trembling in his grasp. Madam, said Dick, releasing her, I cry you a thousand pardons, but I have no eyes behind, and by the mass I could not tell you were a maid. The girl continued to look at him, but by this time terror began to be succeeded by surprise, and surprise by suspicion. Dick, who could read these changes on her face, became alarmed for his own safety, in that hostile house. Fair maid, he said, affecting easiness, suffer me to kiss your hand, in token ye forgive my roughness, and I will even go. Here a strong monk young sir, returned the young lady, looking him both boldly and shrewdly in the face, and now that my first astonishment has somewhat passed away, I can spy the layman in each word you utter. What do ye hear? Why are ye thus sacrilegiously tricked out? Come ye in peace, or war? And why spie ye after Lady Brackney, like a thief? Madam, quote Dick, of one thing I pray you to be very sure I am no thief, and even if I come here in war, as in some degree I do, I make no war upon fair maids, and I hereby entreat them to copy me so far, and leave me be. For indeed, fair mistress, cry out if such be your pleasure, cry but once, and say what ye have seen, and the poor gentleman before you is merely a dead man. I cannot think ye would be cruel, added Dick, and taking the girl's hand gently in both of his, he looked at her with courteous admiration. Are ye then a spy, a Yorkist? Asked the maid. Madam, he replied, I am indeed a Yorkist, and in some sort of spy, but that which bringeth me into this house, the same which will win for me the pity and interest of your kind heart, is neither of York nor Lancaster. I will wholly put my life in your discretion. I am a lover, and my name. But here the young lady clapped her hand suddenly upon Dick's mouth, looked hastily up and down, and east and west, and, seeing the coast clear, began to drag the young man with great strength and vehemence upstairs. Hush! she said, and come, shall talk hereafter. Not bewildered, Dick suffered himself to be pulled upstairs, bustled along a corridor, and thrust suddenly into a chamber, lit, like so many of the others, by a blazing log upon the hearth. Now, said the young lady, forcing him to sit down upon a stool. Sit ye there, and attend my sovereign good pleasure. I have life and death over you, and I will not scruple to abuse my power. Look to yourself, ye have cruelly mauled to my arm. He knew not I was a maid, quoth he, hath he known I was a maid, he had taken his belt to me for sooth. And with these words she whipped out of the room, and left Dick gaping with wonder, and not very sure if he were dreaming or awake. Taken my belt to her, he repeated, taken my belt to her. And the recollection of that evening in the forest flowed back upon his mind, and he once more saw matchums, wincing body, and beseeching eyes. And then he was recalled to the dangers of the present. In the next room he heard a stir as of a person moving, then followed a sigh which sounded strangely near, and then the rustle of skirts and tap of feet once more began. As he stood harkening he saw the harass wave along the hall. There was the sound of a door being opened, the hangings divided, and, lamp in hand, Joanna Sedley entered the apartment. She was attired in costly stuffs of deep and warm colours, such as befit the winter and the snow. Upon her head her hair had been gathered together and became her as a crown. And she, who had seemed so little and so awkward in the attire of matchum, was now tall, like a young willow, and swam across the floor as though she scorned the drudgery of walking. Without a start, without a tremor, she raised her lamp and looked at the young monk. What make ye here, good brother? she inquired. Ye are doubtless ill-directed. Whom do ye require? And she set her lamp upon the bracket. Joanna, said Dick, and then his voice failed him. Joanna, he began again, ye said, ye loved me, and the more full I, but I believed it. Dick, she cried, Dick! And then, to the wonder of the lad, this beautiful and tall young lady, made but one step of it, and threw her arms about his neck, and gave him a hundred kisses, all in one. Oh, the full fellow, she cried, oh, dear Dick, oh, if ye could see yourself alack, she said, pausing, I have spoiled you, Dick, I have knocked some of the paint off. But that can be mended. What cannot be mended, Dick? Or, how much fear it cannot, is my marriage with Lord Shoreby. It is decided, then, asked the lad. Tomorrow, before noon, Dick, in the Abbey Church, she answered, John Matchum and Joanna Suddly, both shall come to a right miserable end. There is no help in tears, or I could wheat mine eyes out. I have not spared myself to pray, but heaven frowns on my petition. And, do Dick, good Dick, but that ye can get me forth of this house before the morning. We must even kiss, and say good-bye. Nay, said Dick, not I. I will never say that word. Tis like despair. But while there's life to Anna, there is hope, yet will I hope. I, by the mass, and triumph. Look ye now. When ye were but a name to me, did I not follow? Did I not rouse good men? Did I not stake my life upon the quarrel? And now that I have seen you for what you are, the fairest maid, and staidliest of England, think ye I would turn? If the deep sea were there, I would straight through it. If the way were full of lions, I would scatter them like mice. Aye, she said dryly, ye make a great adieu about a sky-blue robe. Nay, John, protested Dick, tis not alone the robe, but last ye were disguised. Here am I disguised, and to the proof, do I not cut a figure of fun, a right fool's figure? Aye, Dick, and that ye do, she answered smiling. Well, then, he returned triumphant. So was it with you poor matchmen in the forest. In soothe ye were a wench to laugh at, but now. So they ran on, holding each other, by both hands, exchanging smiles and lovely looks, and melting minutes into seconds. And so they might have continued all night long. But presently there was a noise behind them, and they were aware of the short young lady, with her finger on her lips. Saint, she cried, but what a noisy keep! Can ye not speak in compass? And now, Joanna, my fair maid of the woods, what will ye give your gossip for bringing you your sweet heart? Joanna ran to her, by way of an answer, and embraced her firely. And you, sir, added the young lady. What do ye give me? Madam, said Dick, I would faint offer to pay you in the same money. Come, then, said the lady, it is permitted you. But Dick, blushing like a peony, only kissed her hand. What ills ye at my face, fair sir? She inquired, curtsying to the very ground, and then, when Dick had at length, and most tepidly embraced her. Joanna, she said, your sweet heart is very backward under your eyes. But I warn't you, when first we met, he was more ready. I am all black and blue, winch. Trust me never, if I be not black and blue. And now, she continued, have ye said your sayings, for I must speedily dismiss the paladin? But at this they both cried out, that they had said nothing, that the night was still very young, and that they would not be separated so early. And supper, asked the young lady, must we not go down to supper? Nay, to be sure, cried Joan, I had forgotten. Hide me, then, said Dick, put me behind the harass, shut me in a chest, or what she will, so that I may be here on your return. Indeed, fair lady, he added, bear this in mind, that we are sore-bested, and may never look upon each other's face, from this night forward till we die. At this the young lady melted, and when, a little after, the bell summoned Sir Daniel's household to the board, Dick was planted very stiffly against the wall, at a place where a division in the tapestry permitted him to breathe the more freely, and even to see into the room. He had not been long in this position, when he was somewhat strangely disturbed. The silence in that upper story of the house was only broken, by the flickering of the flames and the hissing of a green log in the chimney. But presently, to Dick's strained hearing, there came the sound of someone walking with extreme precaution, and soon after the door opened, and a little black-faced, dwarfish fellow, in Lord Sorby's colours, pushed first his head and then his crooked body into the chamber. His mouth was open, as though to hear the better, and his eyes which were very bright, flitted restlessly and swiftly to and fro. He went round and round the room, striking here and there upon the hangings. But Dick, by a miracle, escaped his notice. Then he looked below the furniture and examined the lamp, and at last, with an air of cruel disappointment, was preparing to go away, as silently as he had come. When down he dropped upon his knees, picked up something from among the rushes on the floor, painted it, and with every signal of delight, concealed it in the wallet at his belt. Dick's heart sank, for the object in question was a tassel from his own girdle, and it was plain to him that this dwarfish spy, who took a maligned delight in his employment, would lose no time in bearing it to his master, the Baron. He was half tempted to throw aside the harass, fall upon the scoundrel, and, at the risk of his life, remove the tell-tale token. And while he was still hesitating, a new cause of concern was added. A voice, hoarse and broken by drink, began to be audible from the stair, and presently after, uneven, wandering, and heavy footsteps sounded without along the passage. What make ye hear, my merry men, among the greenwood shaws, saying the voice? What make ye hear, hey, sots, what make ye hear? It added, with a rattle of drunken laughter, and then once more breaking into song. If ye should fair drink the clary wine, fat-friar John ye friend of mine, if I should eat and ye should drink, who shall sing the mast ye think? Lawless, alas, rolling drunk, was wandering the house, seeking for a corner, wherein, to slumber off the effect of his potations. Dick inwardly raged. The spy, at first terrified, had grown reassured, as he found he had to deal with an intoxicated man, and now, with a movement of cat-like rapidity, slipped from the chamber, and was gone from Richard's eyes. What was to be done? If he lost touch of Lawless for the night, he was left impotent, either to plan or carry forth Joanna's rescue. If, on the other hand, he dared to address the drunken outlaw, the spy might still be lingering within sight, and the most fatal consequences ensue. It was, nevertheless, upon this last hazard that Dick decided. Slipping from behind the tapestry, he stood ready in the doorway of the chamber, with a warning hand appraised. Dick's flushed crimson, with his eyes injected, vacillating on his feet, drew still unsteadily nearer. At last he hazely caught sight of his commander, and, in despite of Dick's imperious signals, hailed him instantly, and loudly by his name. Dick leaped upon, and shook the drunkard furiously. Beast, he hissed, beast, and no man. It is worse than treachery to be so witless, ye may be all shent for thy saughting. But Lawless only laughed and staggered, and tried to clap young Shelton on the back. And just then Dick's quick ear caught a rapid brushing in the heiress. He leaped towards the sound, and the next moment a piece of the wall-hanging had been torn down, and Dick and the spy were sprawling together in its folds. Over and over they rolled, grappling for each other's throat, and still baffled by the harass, and still silent in their deadly fury. But Dick was by much the stronger, and soon the spy lay prostrate under his knee, and with a single stroke of the long poignard ceased to breathe. CHAPTER III. THE DEAD SPY. Throughout this furious and rapid passage Lawless had looked on helplessly, and even when all was over, and Dick, already re-arisen to his feet, was listening with the most passionate attention to the distant bustle in the lower stories of the house. The old outlaw was still wavering on his legs like a shrub in a breeze of wind, and still stupidly staring on the face of the dead man. It is well, said Dick at length, they have not heard us praise the saints, but now what shall I do with this poor spy? At least I will take my tassel from his wallet. So saying, Dick opened the wallet. Within he found a few pieces of money, the tassel, and a letter addressed to Lord Wensley-Dale, and sealed with my Lord Shorby's seal. The name awoke Dick's recollections, and he instantly broke the wax and read the contents of the letter. It was short, but to Dick's delight it gave evident proof that Lord Shorby was treacherously corresponding with the house of York. The young fellow usually carried his ink-horn and implements about him, and so now, bending a knee beside the body of the dead spy, he was able to write these words upon a corner of the paper. My Lord Shorby, ye that thrift the letter, what ye, why your man is dead? But let me read you, Mary Knot, John Amendal. He laid this paper on the breast of the corpse, and then Lawless, who had been looking on upon these maneuvers with some flickering returns of intelligence, suddenly drew a black arrow from below his robe, and wherewith pinned the paper in its place. The sight of this respect, or as it almost seemed, cruelty to the dead, drew a cry of horror from young Shelton, but the old outlaw only laughed. Nay, I will have the credit for mine order. He hiccupped. My jolly boys must have the credit on it, the credit, brother. And then, shutting his eyes tight, and opening his mouth, like a pre-center, he began to thunder in a formidable voice. If she should drink the clary wine! Peace sought! cried Dick, and thrust him hard against the wall. In two words, if so be that, such a man can understand me, who hath more wine than wit in him, in two words, and a Mary's name be gone out of this house, where, if ye continue to abide, ye will not only hang yourself but me also, faithen, upfoot, beware, or by the mass, I may forget, that I am in some sort your captain, and in some sort your debtor go. The sham monk was now, in some degree, recovering the use of his intelligence, and the ring in Dick's voice, and the glitter in Dick's eye, stamped home the meaning of his words, by the mass, cried lawless, and I be not wanted, I can go. And he turned tipsily along the corridor, and proceeded to flounder downstairs, lurching against the wall. So soon as he was out of sight, Dick returned to his hiding-place, resolutely fixed to see the matter out. him indeed moved him to be gone, but love and curiosity were stronger. Time passed slowly for the young man, bolt upright behind the harass, the fire in the room began to die down, and the lamp to burn low and to smoke. And still there was no word of the return of any one to these upper quarters of the house. Still the faint hum and chatter of the supper-party sounded from far below, and still under the thick fall of the snow, lay silent upon every side. At length, however, feet and voices began to draw near upon the stair, and presently, after several of Sir Daniel's guests arrived upon the landing, and, turning down the corridor, beheld the torn harass and the body of the spy. Some ran forward and some back, and altogether began to cry aloud. At the sound of their cries, guests, men at arms, ladies, servants, and, in a word, all the inhabitants of that great house, came flying from every direction, and began to join their voices to the tumult. Soon a way was cleared, and Sir Daniel came forth in person, followed by the bridegroom of the morrow, my Lord Shorby. My Lord, said Sir Daniel, have I not told you of this knave black arrow? To the proof behold it, there it stands, and by the root my gossip, in a man of yours, or one that stole your colors. In good sooth it was a man of mine, replied Lord Shorby hanging back. I would, I had more such. He was keen as a beagle, and secret as a mole. I gossip truly, asked Sir Daniel keenly, and what came he smelling up so many stairs in my poor mansion, but will he smell no more? And please use, Sir Daniel, said one, here is a paper written upon with some matter pinned upon his breast. Give it to me, arrow and all, said the knight. And when he had taken into his hand the shaft, he continued for some time to gaze upon it in a sullen musing. I, he said, addressing Lord Shorby, here is a hate that followeth hard and close upon my heels. This black stick, or its just likeness, shall yet bring me down, and gossip suffer a plain night to counsel you, and if these hounds begin to wind you flee. Tis like a sickness, it still hangeth, hangeth upon the limbs. But let us see what they have written. It is, as I thought, my lord, earmarked, like an old oak by the woodman, to-morrow or next day, by will come with the axe. But what roachy in a letter? Lord Shorby snatched the paper from the arrow, read it, crumpled it between his hands, and, overcoming the reluctance which had hitherto withheld him from approaching, threw himself on his knees beside the body and eagerly groped in the wallet. He rose to his feet with a somewhat unsettled countenance. Gossip, he said, I have indeed lost a letter, here that much imported, and could I lay my hand upon the nave that took it, he should incontinently grace a halter. But let us, first of all, secure the issues of the house. Here is enough harm already by St. George. Sentinels were posted close around the house and garden, a sentinel on every landing of the stair, a whole troop in the main entrance hall, and yet another about the bonfire in the shed. Sir Daniel's followers were supplemented by Lord Shorby's. There was thus no lack of men or weapons to make the house secure, or to entrap a lurking enemy, should one be there. Meanwhile the body of the spy was carried out through the falling snow and deposited in the Abbey Church. It was not until these dispositions had been taken, and all had returned to a decorous silence that the two girls drew Richard Shelton from his place of concealment, and made a full report to him of what had passed. He, upon his side, recounted the visit of the spy, his dangerous discovery and speedy end. Joanna leaned back very faint against the curtained wall. "'It will avail, but little,' she said, I shall be wed to-morrow, in the morning after all.' "'What?' cried her friend, and here is our paladin, that drive with lions like mice. He have little faith of assurity, but come, friend lion-driver, give us some comfort, speak, and let us hear bold counsels.' Dick was confounded to be thus out-faced, with his own exaggerated words. But though he coloured, he still spoke stoutly. "'Truly,' said he, we are in straits, yet could I but win out of this house for half an hour, I do honestly tell myself, that all might still go well. And for the marriage, it should be prevented. "'And for the lions,' mimicked the girl, they shall be driven. "'I crave your excuse,' said Dick, I speak not now in any boasting humour, but rather as one inquiring, after help or counsel. For if I get not forth of this house, through these sentinels, I can do less than not. Take me, I pray you rightly.' "'Why,' said she, he was rustic, Joan.' The girl inquired, I warn't, he hath a tongue in his head. Ready, soft, and bold is his speech, at pleasure. What would ye more?' "'Nay,' sighed Joanna, with a smile. "'They have changed me, my friend Dick, to sure enough. When I beheld him, he was rough indeed. But it matters little. There is no help for my hard cause. And I must still be Lady Shoreby.' "'Nay, then,' said Dick, I will even make the adventure. A fryer is not much regarded, and if I found a good fairy to lead me up, I may find another, be like to carry me down. How call they the name of this spy?' "'Rutter,' said the young lady, and an excellent good name to call him by. But how mean ye, lion-driver, what is in your mind to do?' "'To offer boldly to go forth,' returned Dick, and if any stop me, to keep an unchanged countenance, and say I go to pray for Rutter. They will be praying over his poor clay, even now.' "'The device is somewhat simple,' replied the girl, yet it may hold.' "'Nay,' said young Shelton, it is no device, but mere boldness, which serveth often better in great straits.' "'Yay, say true,' she said, well, go on Mary's name, and may heaven speed you. Ye leave here a poor maid that loves you entirely, and another that is most heartily your friend. Be wary for their sakes, and make not shipwreck of your safety.' "'Yay,' added Joanna, go, Dick, ye run no more peril, whether ye go or stay. Go, ye take my heart with you, the saints defend you.' Dick passed the first century, with so assured accountenance that the fellow merely fidgeted and stared. But at the second landing the man carried his spear across and bathed him, named his business. "'Pax Bulbyscombe,' answered Dick, I go to pray over the body of this poor rudder. "'Like enough, return the century, but to go alone is not permitted you.' He leaned over the oaken balusters and whistled shrill. One cometh, he cried, and then motioned Dick to pass. At the foot of the stairs he found the guard afoot, and awaiting his arrival, and when he had once more repeated his story, the commander of the post ordered four men out to accompany him to the church. "'Let him not slip, my lads,' he said, bring him to Sir Oliver on your lives.' The door was then opened, one of the men took Dick by either arm, another marched ahead with a link, and the fourth, with bent bow and the arrow on the string, brought up the rear. In this order they proceeded through the garden, under the thick darkness of the night, and the scattering snow, and drew near to the dimly illuminated windows of the Abbey Church. At the western portal a picket of archers stood, taking what shelter they could find in the hollow of the arched doorways, and all powdered with the snow, and it was not until Dick's conductors had exchanged a word with these that they were suffered to pass forth and enter the nave of the sacred edifice. The church was doubtfully lighted by the tapers upon the great altar, and by a lamp or two that swung from the arched roof before the private chapels of illustrious families. In the midst of the choir the dead spy lay, his limbs piously composed upon a beer. A hurried mutter of prayers sounded along the arches, culled figures knelt in the stalls of the choir, and on the steps of the high altar appraised in pontifical vestments celebrated mass. Upon this fresh entrance one of the culled figures arose, and coming down the steps which elevated the level of the choir above that of the nave, demanded from the leader of the four men what business brought him to the church. Out of respect for the service and the dead they spoke in guarded tones, but the echoes of that huge empty building caught up their words, and hollowly repeated and repeated them along the aisles. A monk, returned Sir Oliver, for he it was, when he had heard the report of the archer. My brother, I looked not for your coming, he added, turning to young Shelton. In all civility, who are ye, and at whose instance do ye join your supplication to ours? Dick, keeping his cowl about his face, signed to Oliver to move a pacer to a side from the archers. And so soon as the priest had done so. I cannot hope to deceive you, sir, he said, my life is in your hands. Sir Oliver violently started, his stout cheeks grew pale, and for a space he was silent. Richard, he said, what brings you here, I know not, but I much misdoubt it to be evil. Nevertheless, for the kindness that was, I would not willingly deliver you to harm. Ye shall sit all night beside me in the stalls, ye shall sit there, till my lord of shore be be married, and the party gone, safe home. And if all goeth well, and ye have planned no evil, in the end ye shall go whither ye will. But if your purpose be bloody, it shall return upon your head. Amen. And the priest devoutly crossed himself, and turned, and lauded to the altar. With that he spoke a few words more to the soldiers, and taking dick by the hand led him up to the choir, and placed him in the stall beside his own, where, for mere decency, the lad had instantly to kneel and appear to be busy with his devotions. His mind and his eyes, however, were continually wandering. Three of the soldiers he observed, instead of returning to the house, had got them quietly into a point of vantage in the aisle, and he could not doubt that they had done so by Sir Oliver's command. Here then he was trapped. Here he must bend the night, in the ghostly glimmer and shadow of the church, and looking on the pale face of him he slew, and here in the