 Chapter 4 Part 2 of A Prince of Good Fellows This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Reading by Los Rolander. A Prince of Good Fellows by Robert Barr. Chapter 4 Part 2 Before one of the three could move from the stool, he occupied. They were set upon by the Ruffians, and each sterling man found his ankles fastened together, and his elbows tied behind his back with the speed that amazed him. Bless my soul, moaned the poet, all this in broad daylight and in the king's dominion. They were carried outside and flung thus helpless face downward on horses, like so many sacks of corn, each before a mounted man. Armstrong sprung upon his horse and led his men from the high road into the forest, his followers numbering something like a score. The captives from their agonizing position on the horses could see nothing of the way they were being taken, except that they journeyed on and on through dense woodland. They lost all knowledge of direction, and by and by came to the margin of a brawl in stream, arriving at last much to their relief at a stronghold of vast extent, situated on a beatling rock that overhung the river. Here the three were placed on their feet again, and chattering women and children crowded round them, but in no case was there a word of pity or an expression of sympathy for their plight. The striking feature of the castle was a tall square tower, which might be anything from seventy to a hundred feet in height, and connected with it were several stone buildings, some two stories and some three stories high. Round the castle in a wide irregular circle had been built a stout stone ball, perhaps twenty feet high, wide enough on the top for half a dozen men to walk abreast. The spacing closed was tolerably flat, and large enough for a small army to exercise in. Leaning against the inside of this wall was an array of sheds, which provided stabling for the horses, and numerous stalls in which many cattle were lowing. The contour of the wall was broken by a gateway through which the troop and their captives had entered. The inlet could be closed by a massive gate, which now stood open, and by a stout portcullis that hung ready to drop when a lever was pulled. But the most gruesome feature of this robber's lair was a stout beam of timber, which projected horizontally from the highest open window of the square tower. Attached to the further end of the beam was a thick rope, the looped end of which encircled the draw-neck of a man, whose lifeless body swayed like a leaden pendulum, helpless in the strong breeze. Seeing the eyes of the three directed to this pitiful object, Armstrong said to one of his men, Just slip that fellow's head from the nose, Peter, we may need the rope again to-night. Then turning to his prisoners, Armstrong spoke like a courteous host, anxious to exhibit to a welcome guest the striking features of his domain. That's but a grisly sight, gentlemen, to contemplate on a lowering evening. The day was darkening to its close, and a storm coming up out of the west was bringing the night quicker than the hour sanctioned. But here is an ingenious contrivance, continued the free-voter, cheerfully, which has commanded the admiration of many a man we were compelled to hang. You see, there are so many meddlesome bodies in this world that a person like myself, who wishes to live in peace with all his fellows, must sometimes give the interferers a sharp bit lessen. I can well believe it, answered the king. An Englishman of great ingenuity had a plan for capturing us, but as it stands we captured him, and being a merciful man always loved to hang when anything else can be done. I set him at work here, and this is one of his constructions, as it's screwing dark come nearer that you may see how it works. At the bottom of the tower, and close to it, there lay a wooden platform which afforded standing-room for six or seven men. Peter got up on this platform and pulled a cord which opened a concealed sluice-gate, and resulted in a roar of pouring water. Gradually the platform lifted, and the king saw that it was placed on top of a tall pine-tree that had been cut in the form of a screw, the gigantic threads of which were well-oiled. A whirling horizontal water-wheel through the center of which the big screw came slowly upwards, with Peter on the gradually elevating platform formed the multi-power of the contrivance. You understand the mechanism? said Armstrong. By pulling one cord, the water comes in on this side of the wheel, and the platform ascends. Another cord closes the sluice, and everything is stationary. A third cord opens the gate which lets the water drive the wheel in the opposite direction, and then the platform descends. You see, you've taken away the old lower stairway that was originally built for the tower, and this is the only means of getting up and down from the top-story. It does not, if you will notice, go entirely to the top, but stops at that door fifty feet from the rock into which Peter is now entering. It's a most ingenious invention, admitted the king. I never saw anything like it before. It would be very useful in a place like Sterling, said Johnny, looking hard at his prisoner. I suppose it would, replied the king in a tone, indicating that it was no affair of his. But you see, I'm not a Sterling man myself. I belong rather to all Scotland, a man of the world, as you might say. By this time Peter had climbed to the highest room of the tower, worked his way on hands and knees out to the end of the beam, and had drawn up to him the swaying body. With the deafness of expert practice he loosened the noose, and the body dropped like a plummet through the air, disappearing into the chasm below. Peter, taking the nose with him, crawled backward, like a crab, out of sight, and into the tower again. Armstrong from below had opened the other sluice, and the empty platform descended as leisurely and as tremblingly as it had risen. Armstrong himself capped the cords that bound the ankles of his captives. Now, gentlemen, he said, if you will step on the platform, I shall have the pleasure of showing you to your rooms. Three armed men and the three prisoners moved upwards together. A fine silver view you have, said the king. Is it not, exclaimed Armstrong, seemingly delighted that it pleased his visitor. After the mechanical device had landed them some fifty feet above the rocks, they ascended several flights of stairs. A man with a torch leading the way. The prisoners were conducted to a small room which had the roof of the tower for its ceiling. In a corner of the cell cowered a very abject specimen of the human race, who, when the others came, seemed anxious to attract as little attention as possible. Armstrong again with his own hands removed the remaining cords from the prisoners, and the three stretched up their arms, glad to find them at liberty once more. Place the torch in its holder, said Johnny. Now, gentlemen, that will last long enough to light you to your supper, which you will find on the floor behind you. I'm sure you will rest here comfortably for the night. The air is pure at this height, and I think you'll like this eagle's nest better than a dungeon under the ground. For my own part I abhor the subterranean cell, and goodness knows I've been in many a one, but we are civilized folk here on the border, and try to treat our prisoners kindly. You must indeed earn their fervent gratitude, said the king. We should, we should return, Johnny, but I'm not certain that we do. Man is a thrown beast as a rule, and now you'll just think over your situation through the night, and be ready to answer me in the morning all the questions I'll ask of you. I'll be wanting to know who sent you here, and what news you have returned to him since you have been on the border. We will give your request our deep consideration, replied the king. I'm glad to hear that, you see, we are such merciful people, that we have but one rope to hang our enemies with, while we should have a dozen by rights. Still, I think we could manage three at a pinch, if your answers should happen to displease me. You will excuse the bearing of the door, but the window is open to you if your lodgings are not to your liking, and so good night the three of you. Good night to you, Mr. Armstrong, said the king. Peter had drawn in the rope and its sinister loop lay on the floor, its further length resting on the windowsill, and extending out to the end of the beam. The cobbler examined it with interest. Come, cried the king, there is little use letting a supper wait for the eating merely because we seem to have gone wrong in our inquiries about the cattle. Neither the poet nor the cobbler had any appetite for supper, but the king was young and hungry, and he justiced the hospitality of the Armstrong's. Have you been here long? he asked the prisoner in the corner. A good while answered the latter despondently. I don't know for how long they hanged my mate. I saw that. Do they hang many here about? I think they do, replied the prisoner, sumpling themselves down on the rocks, and others are starved to death. You see, the Armstrong's go off on a raid, and there is no one here to bring us food, for the women folk don't like to tamper with that machine that comes to the lower stair. I doubt if Johnny starts them intentionally, but he is kept away sometimes longer than he expects. Bless me, cried the king, think of this happening in Scotland, and now cobbler, what are we to do? I'm wondering if this man would venture out to the end of the beam and untie the rope, suggested Fleming. Oh, I'll do that willingly, cried the prisoner, but what is the use of it? It's about ten times too short as the Armstrong's well know. Are we likely to be disturbed here through the night? asked Fleming. Oh no, nor till late in the day tomorrow. They'll be down there eating and drinking till all hours. Then they sleep long. Very well. Untie the other end of the rope, and see you crawl back here without falling. As the prisoner obeyed instructions, Fleming rose to his feet and began feeling in his pockets, drawing forth at last a large brown ball. What is your plan, cobbler? asked the king with interest. Well, you see, replied Fleming, the rope's short, but it's very thick. I don't see how that is to help us. There are nine or ten strands that have gone to the making of it, and I'm thinking that each of those strands will bear a man. Luckily I've got a ball of my cobbler's wax here, and that will strengthen the strands, keep the knots from slipping, and make it easier to climb down. Cobbler! cried the king. If that lets us escape, I'll knight you. I care little for knighthood, returned the cobbler, but I don't want to be benighted here. After such a remark as that, your majesty, exclaimed the poet, I think you should have him beheaded if he doesn't get us out of this safely. Indeed, sir David said the cobbler as he unwound the rope. If I don't get you out of here, the Armstrongs will save his majesty all trouble on the score of decapitation. There was silence now as the three watched the dead tans of the cobbler, hurrying to make the most of the last race of the flickering torch in the wall. He tested the strands and proved them strong, then ran each along the ball of wax, thus cementing their loose thread together. He knotted the ends with extreme care, tried their resistance thoroughly, and waxed them unsparingly. It was a business of breathless interest, but at last the snake-like length of thin rope lay on the floor at his disposal. He tied an end securely to the beam just outside the windowsill, so that there would be no sharp edge to cut the cord. Then he paid out the line into the darkness slowly and carefully, that it might not became entangled. There, he said at last with a sigh of satisfaction, who's first for the rope? We three await your majesty's commands. Do you know the country hereabout? asked the king of the man who had been prisoner longest. Every inch of it! Can you guide us safely to the north in the darkness? Oh yes, once I'm down by the stream. Then, said the king, go down by the stream. When you are on a firm footing, say no word, but shake the rope. If you prove a true guide to us this night, we'll pay you well. I shall be well paid with my liberty! replied the prisoner, crawling cautiously over the stone cell, and disappearing in the darkness. The cobbler held the tout-line in his hand. No man spoke. They hardly seemed to breathe until the cobbler said, He's safe. Your majesty should go next. The captain is the last to leave the ship, said the king, over you go, Fleming. After the cobbler Sir Davy descended, followed by the king, and they found at the bottom of the ravine some yards of line to spare. Their adventures threw that wild night and the next day, until they came to a village where they could purchase horses, form a story in themselves. When the king reached Stirling, and was dressed once more in a costume more suited to his station than that which had been torn by the brambles of the border, he called to him the chief minister of Israel. You will arrest immediately, he said, cobbler of Henderland and Adam Scott of Tushilor, and have them beheaded. With a trial, your majesty! asked the minister in amazement. Certainly not without trial, but see that the trial is as short as possible. Their crime is treason. The witnesses as many as you like to choose from our last council meeting. I love and adhurt to the process of law, but see that there is no mistake about the block being at the end of your trial. The minister made a note of this and awaited further instructions. Place the Earl of Bothwell in the strongest room that Edinburgh Castle has vacant, in prison Lord Maxwell and Lord Holm, and the lards of Fernihurst, Johnston and Buchleich, in whatever stronghold is most convenient. Let these orders be carried out as speedily as possible. The next man called into the royal presence was Sir Donald Sinclair. Have you five hundred mountain men ready for the road, Sir Donald? Yes, your majesty, a thousand if you want them. Very well, a thousand I shall have, and I shall ride with you to the border. Nevertheless, when the king came to the inn where he had been captured, there were about twenty troopers with him. Sir Donald was the spokesman on that occasion. He said to the landward whose roving eyes was taking count of the number of horses. Go to Johnny Armstrong and tell him that the king with twenty mounted men at his back commands his presence here, and see that he comes quickly. Johnny was not slow in replying to the invitation, and forty troopers rode behind him. The king sat on his horse a little in advance of his squadron. As a mounted man, James looked well, and there was but little resemblance between him and the unfortunate drover who had been taken prisoner at that spot two short weeks before. I have come promptly now, sir, to your majesty's call, said Armstrong politely, removing his bonnet but making no motion to pay further deference to the king of Scotland. It gives me great pleasure to see you, replied the king suavely. You travel with a large escort, Mr. Armstrong. Yes, your majesty, I am a sociable man, and I like good company. The more stout fellows that are at my back, the better I am pleased. In this respect we are very much alike, Mr. Armstrong, as you will admit if you but cast your eyes to the rear of your little company. At this Johnny Armstrong violated a strict rule of royal etiquette and turned the back of his head to his king. He saw the forest alive with mounted men, their circle closing in upon him. He muttered the word, Trapped, and struck the spurs into his horse's flank. The stung steed pranced in a semi-circle answering his master's reign, but the fence of mounted steel was complete. Every drawn sword a picket. Again Armstrong, laughing uneasily, faced the king, who still stood motionless. Your majesty has certainly the advantage to me as far as escort is concerned. It would seem so, replied James, you travel with two scorer men, high with a thousand. I have ever been a loyal subject of your majesty, said Armstrong, moistening his dry lips. I hope I am to take no scath for coming promptly and cordially to welcome your majesty to my poor district. You will be better able to answer your own question when you have replied to a few of mine. Have you ever met me before, Mr. Armstrong? The robber looked intently at the king. I think not, he said. Have you ever seen this man before? In James' motion Sir David Lindsay from the troop at his side. Armstrong drew the back of his hand across his brow. I seem to remember him, he said, but cannot tell where I have met him. Perhaps this sir man will quicken your memory. And the cobbler came forward dressed as he had been the night he was captured. Armstrong gasped and a greenish pallor overspread his face. What is your answer, Armstrong? Asked the king. I and my forty men will serve your majesty faithfully in your army if you grant us our lives. No thieves ride with any of Scotland's brigade, Armstrong. I will load your stoutest horse with gold until he cannot walk if you spare our lives. The revenues of Scotland are sufficient as they are, Armstrong. replied the king. Harry of England will be glad to hear that the king of Scotland has destroyed two score of his stoutest warriors. The king of England is my relative, and I shall be happy to please him. The defence of Scotland is my care, and I have honest men enough in my army to see that it is secure. Have you anything further to say, Armstrong? It is folly to seek grace at a graceless face. If we are for the tree, then to the tree with us. But if you make this fair forest bear such woeful fruit, you shall see the day when you shall die for lack of stout hearts like ours to follow you, as sure as this day is the fatal thirteenth. The forty-one trees bore their burden, and thirteen years from that time the outlaw's prophecy was fulfilled. End of Chapter 4, Part 2, read by Lars Rolander. Chapter 5, Part 1 of A Prince of Good Fellows This is a LibriVox recording, or LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org, reading by Lars Rolander. A Prince of Good Fellows by Robert Barr, Chapter 5, Part 1, The King's Gold It is strange to record that the first serious difficulty which James encountered with the nobles who supported him arose not over a questionable state, but through the machinations of a foreign mount-a-bank. The issue came to a point where, if the king had proceeded to punish the intriguer, his majesty might have stood alone, while the lords of his court would have ranged themselves in support of the charlatan, a most serious state of things, the like of which has before now overturned a throne. In dealing with this unexpected crisis, the young king acted with a wisdom scarcely to be expected from his years. He directed the nobility as a skillful rider manages a metal-sum horse, sparing curb and spur when the use of the one might have unseated him, or the use of the other resulted in a frenzied bolt. Thus the judicious horseman keeps his saddle, yet arrives at the destination he has marked out from the beginning. In the dusk of the evening James went down the high street of Sterling, keeping close to the wall as was his custom, when about to pay a visit to his friend the cobbler. For all those several members of the court knew that he had a liking for low company, the king was well aware of the haughty disdain with which the nobles regarded those of the mechanical or trading classes, so he thought it best not to run counter to a prejudice so deeply rooted, and for this reason he restricted the knowledge of his visits to a few of his more intimate friends. As the king was about to turn out of the main street, he ran suddenly into the arms of a man, coming from the shop of a clothier, who made costumes for the court. As each started back from the unexpected encounter, the light from the merc's shop window lit up the face of his Majesty's opponent, and the latter saw that he had before him his old friend, Sir David Lindsay. Ah, David, cried the king, it's surely late in the day to choose the colors for a new jacket. Indeed your Majesty is in the right, replied Sir David, but I was not selecting cloth, I was merely enacting the part of an honest man and liquidating a reckoning of long standing. What, a poet with money? exclaimed the king. Who ever heard of such a thing? Man, David, you might share the knowledge of your treasure house with a friend. Kings are always in want of money. Is your gold mine rich enough for two? The king spoke jocularly, placing no particular meaning upon his words, and if Sir David had answered in kind, James would doubtless have thought no more about the matters, but the poet stammered and showed such evident confusion that his Majesty's quick suspicions were at once aroused. He remembered that of late a change had come over the court. Scottish nobles were too poor to be lavish in dress, and frequently the somewhat meagre state of their wardrobe had furnished a subject for jest on the part of ambassadors from France or Spain. But when other foreigners less privileged than an ambassador had ventured to make the same theme one for mirth, they speedily found there was no joke in Scottish steel, which was ever at an opponent's service even if gold were not. So those who were wise and fond of life became careful not to make invidious comparisons between the gallants of Edinburgh and Stirling and those of Paris and Madrid. But of late the court at Stirling had blossomed out in fine array, and although this grandeur had attracted the notice of the king and pleased him, he had given no thought to the origin of the new splendour. The king instantly changed his mind regarding his visit to the cobbler, linked arm with the poet, and together they went up the street. This sudden reversion of direction gave the royal wanderer a new theme for thought and surmise. It seemed as if all the town was on the move, acting as surreptuously as he himself had done a few moments previously. At first he imagined he had been followed, and the suspicion angered him. In the gloom he was unable to recognise any of the wave-fireers, and each seemed anxious to avoid detection, passing hurriedly or sleeping quietly down some less frequented alley or lane. Certain of the figures appeared familiar, but none stopped the question the king. Davey! cried James, pausing in the middle of the street. You make a very poor conspirator. Indeed, your Majesty! replied the poet earnestly. No one is less of a conspirator than I. Davey, you are hiding something from me. That I am not your Majesty. I am quite ready to answer truly any question your Majesty cares to ask. The trouble is, Davey, that my Majesty has not yet got a clue, which will lead to shrewd questioning. But as a beginning, I ask you what is the meaning of all this court stir in the old town of Sterling. How should I know your Majesty? asked the poet in evident distress. There now, Davey, there now! The very first question I propound gets an evasive answer. The man who did not know would have replied that he did not. I dislike being juggled with, and for the first time in my life, Sir David Lindsay, I am angered with you. The night was vis-à-vis perturbed, but at last he answered, In this matter I am sworn to secrecy. All secrets reveal themselves at the king's command. replied James Sterling. Speak out, speak fully, and speak quickly. There is no guilt in the secret, your Majesty. I doubt if any of your court would hesitate to tell you all, were it not that they fear ridicule, which is a thing a Scottish noble is loth to put up with, whether from the king or commoner. Get on and waste not so much time in the introduction, said his Majesty shortly. Well, there came some time since to Sterling, an Italian chemist, who took up his abode and set up his shop in the abandoned refectory of the old monastery. He is the author of many wonderful inventions, but none interests the court so much as the compounding of pure gold in a crucible from the ordinary earth of the fields. I can well believe that, cried the king. I have some stout fighters in my court who fear neither man nor devil in battle, yet would stand with mouth agape before a juggler's tent. But surely, Davy, you have been in the colleges and have read much from learned books, are not such a fool as to be deluded by that ancient fallacy, the transportation of any other metals into gold. So David laughed uneasily. I did not say I believed it, Your Majesty. Still a man must play some credence in what his eye sees done, as well as in what he reads from books, and after all the proof of the cudgel is the wrap on the head. I have beheld the contest, beginning with an empty pot and ending with a bar of gold. Doubtless I have seen a juggler's swall of hot iron, but I have never believed it went down his throttle, although it appeared to have done so. Did you get any share of the transmuted gold? That's the practical test, my Davy. That is exactly the test your barons applied. I doubt if their nobilities would take much interest in a scientific experiment, were there no profit at the end of it. Each man entering the laboratory pays what he pleases to the money-taker at the table, but it must not be less than one gold bonnet piece. When all have entered the doors are closed and locked, the amount of money collected is weighed against small bars of gold, which the alchemist places in the opposite scale, until the two are equally balanced. This bar of gold he then throws into the crucible. Oh, he puts gold into the crucible, does he? Where then is the profit? I thought these necromancers made gold from iron. Senior Farini's method is different, Your Majesty. He asserts that like attracts like, and that the gold in the crucible will take to itself the minute unseen particles, which he believes exists in all soil. The intense heat burning away the dross and leaving the refined gold. I see. And how ends this experiment? The residue is cooled and weighed. Sometimes it's doubled the amount of gold put in, sometimes treble, and I have known him upon occasion take from the crucible quadruple the gold of the bar, but never have I known a melting-fall below double the amount collected by the man at the table. At the final act each noble has returned to him double or treble the gold he relinquished on entering. Where then rises the profit to your Italian? I never knew these foreigners to work for nothing. He says he does it for the love of Scotland and hatred of England and ancient enemy. Where but the Scottish nation rich? He thinks they could be the better withstanding curses from the south. Well, Davey, that seems to me a most unsubstantial reason. Scotland's protection has been her poverty in all except hard knocks. Where she as wealthy as France it would be the greater temptation for Englishers to overrun the country. My grandfather James III had a black chest full of golden jewels, yet he was murdered flying from defeat in battle. When does this golden wizard fire his cauldron, Davey? Tonight, Your Majesty, that is the reason the nobles of your court were making sly haste to his domicile. Ah, and Sir David Lindsay was hurrying to the same spot so blindly that he nearly overran his monarch. It is even so, Your Majesty. Then I am hindering you from much profit, and you must even blame yourself for being so long in the telling. However, it is never too late to turn one bonnet piece into two. So, Davey, lead the way, for I would see this alchemist turn out gold from a pot as a housewife boy's potatoes. I fear, Your Majesty, that the doors will be shut. If they are, Davey, the king's name will open them. Lead the way. Lead the way. The doors were not shut, but were just on the point of closing when Sir David put his shoulder to them and forced his way in, followed closely by his companion. The king and his henchmen found themselves in a small ante-room, furnished only with a bench and a table. On the latter was a yellow heap of bonnet pieces of the king's own coinage. Beside this heap lay a scroll with the requisites for writing. The money-taker, a gaunt foreigner clad in long robes like a monk, closed the door and buried it securely, then returned to the table. He nodded to Sir David and glanced with some distrust upon his plate-covered companion. Oh, have you brought to us, Sir Lindsay? asked the man suspiciously. A friend of mine, the master of Balangaysh, one who can keep his own counsel and who wishes to turn an honest penny. We admit none except those connected with the court, demurred the money-taker. Well, in a manner Balangaysh is connected with the court. He supplies the castle with the products on his farm. The man shook his head. That will not do, he said. My orders are strict, I dare not admit him. Is not my money as good as another's? asked Balangaysh speaking for the first time. No offence is meant to your sir, as your friend Sir Lindsay knows, but I have my orders and dare not exceed them. Do you refuse me admittance, then? I am compelled to do so, sir, greatly to my regret. Is not my surety sufficient? asked Sir David. I deeply agree to refuse your sir, but I cannot disobey my strict instructions. Oh, very well, then, said the king impatiently. We will stay no further question. Sir David here is a close friend of the king and a friend of my own. Therefore we will return to the castle and get the king's warrant, which I trust will open any door in sterling. The warder seemed nonplussed at this and looked quickly from one to the other. Finally he said, Will you allow me a moment to consult with my master? Very well, so that you do not hold us long, replied the master of Balangaysh. I shall do my errand quickly, for at this moment I am keeping the whole nobility of Scotland waiting. The man disappeared, taking, however, the gold with him in a bag. In a short space of time he returned and bowing to the two waiting men, he said, My master is anxious to please you, sir Lincey, and will accept the money of your friend. Whereupon the two placed upon the table five gold pieces each, and the amount was credited opposite their names upon the parchment. Sir David leading the way drew aside one heavy curtain and then a second one, which allowed them to enter a long low-roofed room, almost in total darkness, as far as the end to which they were introduced was concerned. But the upper portion of the hall was lit in lurid fashion. At the further end of the refectory was a raised platform on which the heads of the order had dined during the prosperous days of the edifice while the humbler brethren occupied as was customary the main body of the lower floor. Upon this platform stood a metal tripod, which held a basket of dazzling fire, and in this basket was set a crucible, now changing from red to white under the constant exertions of two creatures who looked like imbs from the lower regions rather than inhabitants of the upper world. These two strove industriously with a huge bellows, which caused the fire to roar fiercely, and this unholy light cast its effulgence upon the faces of many notable men packed closely together in the body of the hall. It also shone on the figure of a tall man, the ghastly pallor of whose countenance was enhanced by a fringe of hair black as midnight. He had a nose like a vulture's beak and eyes piercing in their intensity as black as his midnight hair. His costume also resembled that of a monk in cut, but it was scarlet in you, and the radiance of the furnace caused it to glow as if illuminated by some fire from within. At the moment the last two entered, Farini was explaining to his audience in an accent palpably foreign that he was a man of science and that the devil gave him no aid in his researches, an assertion doubtless perfectly accurate. His audience listened to him with visible impatience, evidently anxious for talk to cease and practical work to begin. The wizard held in his right hand the bag of gold that the king had seen taken from the outer room. Presently there entered through another curtain doorway on what might be called the stage, the money taker in the monk's dress, who handed to the necromancer the coins given him by Lindsay and Balangay, which the wizard tossed carelessly into the bag. The attendant placed the scroll upon a table and then came forward with a weighing machine held in his hand. The alchemist placed the gold from the bag upon one side of the scale and threw into the other bar after bar of yellow metal until the two were equal. Then the bag of gold was placed on the table beside the scroll and the wizard carefully deposited the yellow bars within the crucible, the two imps now working the bellows more strenuously than ever. The experiment was carried on precisely as Sir David had foretold, but there was one weird effect which the poet had not mentioned. When the necromancer added to the melting pot huge lumps of what appeared to be common soil from the field, the mixture glad each time with a new color. Once a vivid violet color flamed up which caused such a vivid death like you on the faces of the knights there present that each looked upon the other in obvious fear. Again the flame was pure white, again scarlet, again blue, again yellow. When at last the incantation was complete the bellows work was stopped. The cascading cauldron was lifted from the fire by an iron hook and chain and set upon the stone floor to cool, bubbling and sparkling like a thing of evil. But the radiance became duller and duller as time went on and finally its contents were poured out into mold of sand and there congealing the result was lifted by tongs and laid upon the scale. The bag of gold was placed again in the opposite disk but the heated metal far outweighed it. We said then unlocked the desk and threw coin after coin in the pan that held the bag until at last the beam of the scale hung level. The secretary now pushed forward a table to the edge of the platform and on the table placed a rush light which served but to illuminate the parchment before him. With great rapidity he counted the gold pieces which were not in the bag then whispered to his master. The room was deathly still as the man in scarlet step forward to make his announcement. I regret, he said, that our experiment has not been as successful as I had hoped. This doubtless has been caused by the poverty of the earth from which I took my material. I shall dig elsewhere against our next meeting and then we may look for better results. Tonight I can return to you but double the money you gave to my treasurer. At this there went up what seemed to be a sigh of relief from the audience which had been holding its breath with all the eagerness of a gambler who had made a stake and awaited the outcome of the throw. The necromancer taking the parchment called out name after name and as each title was enunciated the bearer of it came to the edge of the platform and received from the secretary double the amount of gold pieces set down on the parchment. As each man secreted his treasure he passed along out of the hole and so it came about that Sir David and Balangayish being the last on the list received the remaining coins on the table and silently took their departure. End of chapter 5 part 1 read by Lars Rolander Chapter 5 part 2 of A Prince of Good Fellows This is a LibriVox recording or LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org reading by Lars Rolander. A Prince of Good Fellows by Robert Barre Chapter 5 part 2 The king spoke no word until they had entered the castle and were within his private room. Once there the first thing he did was to pull from his pouch the coins he'd received and examine them carefully one by one. There was no doubt about them each was a good Scottish gold piece with a king's profile and bonnet stamped there on. You will find them genuine said Sir David. I had my own fears regarding them at first thinking that this foreigner was trying the trick which Robert Cochran the mason accomplished so successfully during the reign of your grandfather mixing the silver coins with copper and lead but I had them tested by a goldsmith in Edinburgh and was assured the pieces are just what they claimed to be. Prudent man exclaimed the king throwing himself down on a seat and dingling the gold pieces. Well David what do you think of it all? Give me an opinion as honest as the coin. Truth to tell your majesty I do not know what to think of it. It may be as he says that the earth here contains particles of gold that are drawn to the bars he throws in the melting pot. If the man is a cheat where can he hope for his profit? Where indeed? I mind you told me he'd other marvellous inventions. What are they? He has a plan by which a man in full armour can enter the water and walk beneath it for any length of time without suffocating. Have you seen this trite? Know your majesty there has been no opportunity. What an admirable contrivance for invading Ireland. What are his plans as far as England is concerned? He seems if I remember your tale right to have some animosity in that direction. He has constructed a pair of wings and each soldier being provided with them can sail through the air across the border. Admirable! Admirable! exclaimed the king nodding his head. Now indeed is England ours and France too for that matter if his wings will carry so far. Have you seen these wings? Yes, your majesty, but I have not seen them trite. They seem to be made of fine silk stretched on an extremely light framework and are worked by the arms thrust up or down. Thus he says a man may rise or fall at will. As to the falling I believe him and the rising I shall believe when I see it. Has our visit tonight then taught you nothing, David? Nothing but what I knew before. What has he taught your majesty? In the first place our charlatan does not want the king to know what he is doing because when his subordinate refused me admittance and I said to him I would appeal to the king. He sought once that this was serious and wished to consult his master. His master was then willing to admit anyone so long as there was no appeal to the king. I therefore surmise his most anxious to conceal his operations from me. What is your opinion, David? It would seem that your majesty is in the right. Then again if he is a real scientist and has discovered an easy method of producing gold and is desirous to enrich Scotland, why should he object to plain farmer like a good man of Balangayish profiting by his production? That is quite true, your majesty, but I suppose the line must be drawn somewhere and I imagine he proposes to enrich only those of the highest rank as being more powerful than the geoman. Then we come back, David, to what I said before. Why exclude the king who is of higher rank than any noble? I have already confessed your majesty that I cannot fathom his motives. Well, you see at what we have arrived. This foreigner wishes to influence those who can influence the king. He wishes to have among his audience none but those belonging to the court. He has some project that he dare not place before the king. We will now return to the consideration of that project. In the first place the man is not an Italian. Did a scholar like you, David, fail to notice that when he was in want of a word, it was a French word he used. He is therefore no Italian, but a Frenchman masquerading as an Italian. Therefore the project whatever it is pertains to France, and it is his desire that this shall not be known. Now what does France most desire Scotland to do at this moment? It thinks we should avenge Flodden, and many belonging to the court are in agreement with France on this point. As your necromancer ever mentioned, Flodden, once or twice he spoke of it with regret. I thought so, continued the king, and now I hope you are beginning to see his design. What your majesty says is very ingenious, but if I may be permitted to raise an objection to the theory, I would ask your majesty why this was not done through the French ambassador. French gold has been used before now in the Scottish court, and it seems to me that a great nation like France would not stoop to enlist the devices of a charlatan if this man be a charlatan. Ah, now we enter the domain of state secrets, David, and there is where a king has an advantage over the commoner. Of course I know many things hidden from you which give color to my surmise. Some while ago the French ambassador offered me a subsidy. Now I am not so avaricious as my grandfather, nor so lavish as my father, and I told the ambassador that I would depend on Scottish gold. I acquainted him with the success of my German miners in extracting gold from lead hills in the Clydesdale, and I showed him my newly coined pieces. He was so condescendingly pleased and interested that he begged the privilege of having his own bars of metal coined in my mint in order to disperse his expenses in the coin of the realm, and also to send some of our bonnet pieces as specimens to France itself. This right of coinage I willingly bestowed upon him, firstly because he asked it, secondly I was glad to have some account of his expenditure. When I came in just now I examined these coins closely, and you imagined that I was suspicious of the purity of the metal. This was not so. I told my mint master to coin all the bars the ambassador gave him to keep a strict account of the issue and to mark each piece with the letter F on the margin. I find three of the coins which we received tonight bearing this private mark. Therefore they have passed through the hands of the French ambassador to the alchemist. Sir David gave forth an exclamation of surprise. He left his seat, took the bonnet pieces from his pocket, and placed them under the lamp. And now, said the king, you need sharp eyes to detect this mark, but here it is, and there and there. Let us look a little closer into the object of France. The battle of Flodden was fought when I was little more than a year old. It destroyed the king, the flower of Scottish nobility, and ten thousand over common soldiers, who was responsible for this frightful calamity. My mother was strongly against the campaign, which was to bring the forces of her husband in contention with the forces of her brother, at that moment absent in France. The man who urged on the conflict was Stella Mott, the French ambassador, standing ever at my father's side whispering his treacherous, poisonous advice into near too willing to listen. England was not a bitter enemy, for England did not follow up her victory and march into Scotland, where none were left to command a Scottish army, and no Scottish army was left to obey. Scotland on this occasion was merely the cat's paw of France. Now I am the son of an English woman. The English king is my uncle, and France fears that I will keep the peace with my neighbour, so through his ambassador he sounds me, and learns that such indeed is my intention. France resolves to leave me alone and accomplish its object by corrupting, with gold coined in my own mint, the nobles of my court, and by God, cry James in sudden anger, bringing his fist down on the table and making the coins tingle. France is succeeding through the blind stupidity of men who might have been expected to know their right hand from their left. The greatest heads of my realm are being cosened by a trickster, be fooled in a way that any humble plowman should be ashamed of. You see now why they wish to keep the silly proceedings from the king. I tell you, Davy, that Italian's head comes off, and thus in some small measure I will avenge Flodden. Sir David Lindsay sat meditatively silent for some moments, while the king in angering patience strode up and down the small limits of the room. When the heat of the Majesty's temper had partially cooled, Sir David spoke with something of diplomatic shrewdness. I never before realised the depth and penetration of your Majesty's mind. You have gone straight to the heart of this mystery and have thrown light into its obscurest corner as a dozen flaming torches would have illumined that dark laboratory in the monastery. I have shared the stupidity of your nobles, which the clarity of your judgment now exposes so plainly. Therefore I feel that it would be presumption of my part to offer advice to your Majesty in the further prosecution of this affair. No, Davy, no! said the king, stopping in his march and speaking with pleased cordiality. No, I value your advice. You are an honest man, and it is not to be expected that a subtlety and craftiness of these foreigners should be as clear to you as the sunshine on a highland hill. Speak out, Davy, if you give me your counsel I know it will be as wholesome as oatmeal porridge. Well, your Majesty, you must meet subtlety with subtlety. I am not sure that your dutch holds good, Davy, demurred the king. You cannot outrace a highland man in his own glen, although you may fight him fairly in the open. Once this Frenchman's head is off, you stop his boiling pot. That is quite true, your Majesty, but if the French ambassador should put in a claim for his worthless carcass, you will find yourself on the eve of a break with France if you proceed to his execution. What I shall have made France throw off its mask. It is not France I am thinking about your Majesty. Your own nobles have gone clean daft over this Italian. He is their goose that lays the golden eggs, and you saw yourself tonight with what breathless expectation they watch his experimenting. I am sure your Majesty that they will stand by him, and that you will find not only France, but Scotland arraid against you. A moment's reflection will show you the danger. These meetings have been going on for months past, yet no whisper of their progress has reached your Majesty's ears. That is true, even you yourself, Davy, kept silent. I swore an oath of silence, and honestly I did not think that this goldmaking was an affair of state. Very well, I will act with caution. The breath of the money-getter tarnishes the polish of the sword, and in my dealings I shall try to recollect that I have to do with men growing rapidly rich, as well as with nobles who should be too proud to accept unearned gold from any man. Now, Davy, I will need your help in this, and in aiding me you will assist yourself, thus will virtue be its own reward, as is preached to us. I will give you as many gold pieces as you need, and instead of paying three pieces at the entrance, give the man three hundred. Urge all the nobles to increase their wages, for thus we shall soon learn the depths of this yellow treasury. If I attempt to wring the neck of the goose before the eggs are laid, my followers would be justified in saying that the English part of my nature had got the better of the Scotch. Meanwhile, I will know nothing of this man's doings, and I hope for your sake, Davy, that the gold mine will prove as prolific as my own in the Clydesdale. The nobles followed the example set to them by the lavish Sir David. They needed no urging from him to increase their stakes. The fever of the gambler was on each of them, and soon the alleged Italian began to be embarrassed in keeping up the pace he had set for himself. It required now an enormous sum pay even double the amount taken at the door. The necromancer announced that the meetings would be held less often, but the nobles would not have it so. Then his experiments became less and less successful. One night the bonus amounted only to half the coins given to the treasurer, and then there were ominous grumblings. At the next meeting the bare amount paid in was given back, and the deep roar of resentment which greeted this proclamation made the foreigner tremble in his red robe. The ambassador was sending messenger after messenger to France, and looked anxiously for their return, while the necromancer did everything to gain time. At last there came an experiment which failed entirely. No gold was produced in the crucible. The alchemist begged for a postponement, but swords flashed forth and he was compelled on the spot to renew his incantation. If gold could be made on one occasion, why not on another, cried the barons with some show of reason. The conjurer had conjured up a demon he could not control, the demon of greed. The only man about the court who seemed to know nothing of what was going forward was the king himself. The French ambassador narrowly watched his actions, but James was the same free-hearted, jovial, pleasure-seeking monarch he had always been. He hunted and caroused and was the life of any party of pleasure which salad forth from the castle. He disappeared now and then as was his custom and could not be found although his novels winked at one another while the perturbed French ambassador looked anxiously for the treasure ship that never came. At last the nobles who in spite of their threatenings had too much shrewdness to kill the gold-maker, hoping his lapse of power was only temporary, forced the question to a head and made appeal to the astonished king himself. Here was a man, they said, who could make gold and wouldn't. They decide a mandate to go forth, compelling him to resume the lucrative occupation he had abandoned. The king pressed his amazement at what he heard and summoned the mount-bank before him. The gold-maker abandoned his robe of scarlet and appeared before James dressed soberly. He confessed that he knew the secret of extracting gold from ordinary soil but submitted that he was not a Scottish citizen and therefore could not properly be querced by the Scottish laws so long as he infringed none of the statutes. The king held that this appeal was well founded and disclaimed any desire to querce a citizen of a friendly state. At this the charlatan brightened perceptibly and proportionately the gloom on the browse of the nobles deepened. But if you can produce gold as you say, why do you refuse to do so? demanded the king. I respectfully submit to your majesty, replied the mount-bank, that I have now perfected an invention of infinitely greater value than the gold-making process, an invention that will give Scotland power possessed by no other nation and which will enable it to conquer any kingdom, no matter how remote it may be from this land, I so much honour. I wish then to devout the remaining energies of my life to the enlarging of this invention rather than waste my time in what is, after all, the lowest pursuit to which a man may demean himself, namely the mere gathering of money, and the speaker cast a glance of triumph at the disgruntled barons. I quite agree with you regarding your estimation of acquisitiveness, said the king cordially, giving no heed to the murmurs of his followers. In what does this new invention consist? It is simply a pair of wings your majesty made from the finest silk which I import from France. They may be fitted to any human being, and they give that human being the power which birds have long possessed. Well, said the king with a laugh, I should be the last to teach a Scottish warrior to fly. Still the ability to do so would have been on several occasions advantageous to us. Have you your wings at hand? Yes, your majesty. Then you yourself shall test them in our presence. But I should like to spend your majesty some further time on preparation, demurred the man uneasily. I thought you said a moment ago that the invention was perfect. Nothing human is perfect, your majesty, and if I said so I spoke with the overconfidence of the inventor. I have however succeeded in sailing through the air, but cannot yet make way against the wind. Oh, you have succeeded so far as to interest us in a most attractive experiment. Be your assistant, bring them at once, and let us understand their principle. I rejoice to know that Scotland is to have the benefit of your great genius. Farini shed little enthusiasm and the king's confidence in him. He had during the colloquy cast many an anxious glance towards the French ambassador, apparently much to the annoyance of that high dignitary. For now the Frenchman, seeing his continued hesitation, said sharply, You have heard this majesty's commands, get on your paraphernalia. When the Italian was at last equipped, looking like a demon in a painting that hung in the chapel, the king led the way to the edge of Sterling Cliff. There, he said, indicating a spot on the brow of the precipice. You could not find in all Scotland a better vantage point for a flight. The terrified man stood for a moment on the verge of the appalling precipice. Then he gave utterance to remarkable pronouncement, the import of which was perhaps misunderstood because of the chattering of his tea. Oh, not here, your majesty, forgive me. I will confess everything the goal which I pretended to. Fly you fool! tried the French ambassador, pushing the Italian suddenly between the shoulders and launching him into space. With a wild scream Farini endeavored to support himself with his course like wings, and for a moment seemed to hoover in the midair, but the framework, cracked, and the victim whirling head over his fell like a plummet to the bottom of the cliff. I fear you have been too impetuous with him, said the king severely, although, as his majesty glanced at Sir David Lindsay, the faint suspicion of a wink momentarily obscured his eye. A temporary veiling of the royal refurgence, which passed unnoticed as everyone else was gazing over the cliff at the motionless form of the fallen man. I am to blame, Sire, replied the ambassador contrarily, but I think the villain is an imposter, and I could not bear to see your royal indulgence trifle with. However, I am willing to make amends for my imprudence, and if the scoundrel lives, I shall at my own expense transport him instantly to France, where he shall have the attendance of the best surgeons the country affords. That is very generous of you, replied the king, and the ambassador, craving permission to retire, hastened to translate his benevolence into action. Farini was still unconscious when the ambassador and his attendants reached him, but the French nobleman proved as good as his word, for he had the injured man whose thigh bone was broken, conveyed in a litter too late, and from their ship to France. But it was many a day before the Scottish nobles ceased to deplore the untimely departure of their gold-maker. End of Chapter 5 Part 2, Read by Lars Rolander Chapter 6 Part 1 of A Prince of Good Fellows This is a LibriVox recording, or LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Reading by Lars Rolander The Prince of Good Fellows by Robert Barr Chapter 6 Part 1, The King a Begging Literary ambition has before now led men into difficulties. The king had completed a poem in thirteen stanzas entitled The Beggar Man, and the prime requisite of a completed poem is an audience to listen to it. In spite of the fact that he wrote poetry, the king was a sensible person, and he knew that if he read his verses to the court, the members thereof were not the persons to criticize adequately the merits of such a composition. For you cannot expect a high noble who, if he ever notices a beggar, merely does so to throw a curse at him, or lay the flatter his sword over his shoulders, to appreciate an epic which celebrates the free life led by a mendicant. The king was well aware that he would receive ample praise for his production. Kings goods are ever the best in the market, and though, like every other literary man, it was praise and not criticism that James wanted. Still, he preferred to have such praise from the lips of one who knew something of the life he tried to sing. Therefore, as evening came on, the monarch dressed himself in his farmer costume, and, taking his thirteen stanzas with him, ventured upon a cautious visit to his friend, the cobbler in the lower town of Sterling. The cobbler listened with an attention which was itself flattering, and paid his royal visitor the additional compliment of asking him to repeat certain of the verses, which the king in his own heart thought were the best. Then, when the thirteenth stanza was arrived at with he, know that bad commendation which is dear to the heart of the cherished Scotchman, be he of high or low degree, Fleming continued. They might be worse, and we've had many a poet of great reputation in Scotland who would not be ashamed to father them, but I am thinking you paint the existence of a beggar in brighter colours than the life itself warrants. No, no, Fleming protested the king earnestly. I am convinced that only the beggar knows what true contentment is. You see, he begins at the very bottom of the ladder, and every step he takes must be a step upward. Now imagine a man at the top, like myself. Any move I make in the way of changing my conditions must be downward. A beggar is the real king, and a king is but a beggar, for he holds his position by the favour of others. You see, Fleming, anything a beggar gets is so much to the good, and as he has nothing to lose, not even he said, for who would send a beggar to the block, he must needs be therefore the most contented man on the face of the footstool. Oh, that's maybe true enough, replied Fleming, set in his own notion notwithstanding it was the king who opposed him. But look you what a scope of beggar has for envy for there's nobody he meets that's not better off than himself. You go to extremes, Fleming, an envious man is unhappy wherever you place him, but I'm speaking of ordinary persons like ourselves, with the charity and goodwill toward all their fellow kind. That man, I say, is happier as a beggar than as a king. Well, in so far as concerns myself, Your Majesty, I'd like to be sure of a roof over my head when the rain's coming down, and of that a beggar never can be. A king or a cobbler has a place to lay his head at any rate. I admitted the king, but sometimes that place is the block. To tell you the truth, Fleming, I'm thinking of taking a week at the begging myself. A poet should have practical knowledge of the subject about which he writes. Give me a week on the road, Fleming, and I'll pen you a poem on beggary that will get warmer praise from you than this has had. I give you rhyming the very highest praise and say that Gavin Douglas himself might have been proud had he put those lines together. To this the king made no reply, and the cobbler looking up at him saw that a frown marred his brow. Then he remembered, as usual a trifle late, James's hatred of the doglass name, a hatred that had been honestly earned by the Earl of Angus, head of that clan. Fleming was learning that it was as dangerous to praise as to criticize a king. With the native caution, however, the cobbler took no notice of his majesty's pleasure, but added an amendment to his first statement. It would perhaps be more truthful to say that the verses are worthy of Sir David Lindsay. In fact, although Sir David is a greater poet than Gavin Douglas, I doubt very much if in his happiest moment he could have equaled the beggar man. In mentioning Sir David Lindsay, Fleming had named the king's greatest friend, and the cobbler's desire to please could not have escaped the notice of a man much less shrewd than was James the Fifth. The king rose to his feet, checking a laugh. Man, Fleming, he said, I wonder at you, have you forgotten that Sir David Lindsay married Janet Douglas? The palpable dismay of the cobbler's countenance caused the young man to laugh outright. The cobbler should stick to his honesty and not endeavor to tread the slippery path of courtiership, Fleming. If I wanted flattery, I could get that up at the castle. I come down here for something better. If anything I could write were half so good as Sir David's worst, I should be a pleased man. But I am learning, Fleming, I am learning. This very day some of my most powerful nobles have presented me with a respectful petition. A year ago I should have said no before I had got to the signature of it, but now I have thanked them for their attention to affairs of state, although between me and you and that bench, Fleming, it's a pure matter of their own greed and selfishness. So I've told them I will give the subject my deepest consideration, and that they shall have their answer this day fortnight. It's not that the wisdom of the serpent combined with the harmlessness of the dove. It is indeed, agreed the cobbler, very well. Tomorrow it shall be given out that this petition will occupy my mind for at least a week, and during that time the king is invisible to all comers, high or low. Tomorrow, Fleming, you will get me as clean a suit of beggar's rags as you can lay your hands on. I'll come down here as the master of Balangay, and leave these farmers close in your care. I shall pass from this door as a beggar and come back to it in the same condition a week or ten days hence. You'll see that you're at hand to receive me. Does your majesty intend to go alone? Entirely alone, Fleming. Bless me! Do you imagine I would tramp the country as a beggar with a troop of horse at my back? Your majesty would be wise to think twice of such a project, warned the cobbler. Oh well! I've doubled the number. I've thought four times about it, once when I was writing the poem, and three times while you were raising objections to my assertion that the beggar is the happiest man on earth. If your majesty's mind is fixed, then there's no more to be said. But take my advice and put a belt round your body with a number of gold pieces in it, for the time may come when you'll want a horse in a hurry, and perhaps you may be refused lodgings even when you greatly need them. In either case a few gold rascals will stand your friend. That's can he counsel Fleming, and I'll act on it. And perhaps it might be as well to leave with someone in whom you have confidence, instruction so that you could be communicated with if your presence was needed hurriedly at Sterling. No, no, Fleming, nothing can go wrong in a week. A beggar with a string tied to his legs that someone in Sterling can pull at his pleasure is not a real beggar but a slave. If they should want me sorely in Sterling before I return, they'll think the more of me once I am back. And thus it came about that the king of Scotland, with a belt of gold around his waist in case of need, and garments concealing the belt which gave little indication that anything worth a robber's care was underneath, tramped the high roads and byways of a part of Scotland, finding in general a welcome wherever he went, for he could tell a story that would bring a laugh and sing a song that would bring a tear, and all such rarely starve or lack shelter in this sympathetic world. Only once did he feel himself in danger, and that was on what he thought to be the last day of his tram, for in the evening he expected to reach the lower town of Sterling, even though he came to it late in the night. But the weather of Scotland has always something to say to the pedestrian, and it delights in upsetting his plans. He was still more than two leagues from his castle, and the dark forest of Tor would lay between him and Royal Sterling, when, towards the end of a lowering day, there came up over the hills to the west, one of the fiercest storms he had ever beheld, which drove him for shelter to a wayside in on the outskirts of the forest. The place of shelter was low and forbidding enough, but needs must when a Scottish storm drives, and the king burst in on a drinking company, bringing a swirl of rain and a blast of wind with him. So fierce in truth was the wind that one of the drinkers had to spring to his feet and put his shoulder to the door before the king could get it closed again. He found but scant welcome in the company, though seated on the benches by the fire scalded him, and the landlord seeing he was what a beggar did not limit his displeasure to so silent a censor. What in the fiend's name, he cried angrily, does the like of you want in here? The king nonchalantly shook the water from his rags and took a step nearer the fire. That is a very unnecessary question, landlord, said the young man with a smile. Nevertheless I will answer it. I want shelter in the first place and food and drink as soon as you can bring them. Shelter you can get behind a stundike or in the forest, retorted his host. Food and drink are for those who can pay for it. Get you gone. You mar good company. In truth, landlord, your company is none to my liking, but I happen to prefer it to the storm. Food and drink, you say, are for those who can pay. You see one of them before you, therefore, sir, hastened to your duty, or it may be mine to hurry you unpleasantly. The truculence on the part of the supposed beggar had not the effect one might have expected of increasing the boisterousness of the landlord. That individual well knew that many beggars were better able to pay their way than was he himself when he took to journey, so he replied more civilly. I'll take your order for a meal when I have seen the colour of your money. Quite right, said the king, and only fair Scottish caution. Then, with the lack of that quality he had just commended, he drew his belt out from under his coat and taking a gold piece from it through the coin on the table. The entrance of the king and the manner of his reception exposed him to the danger almost sure to attend the display of so much wealth in such forbidding company. A moment later he realized the jeopardy in which his rashness had placed him by the significant glances which the half-dozen rough men there seated gave to each other. He was alone and unarmed in a disreputable boothy on the edge of a forest well known as the refuge of desperate characters. He wished that he had even one of the sharp knives belonging to his friend the cobbler so that he might defend himself. However, the evil was done, if evil it was, and there was no help for it. James was never a man to cross a bridge before it came to it, so he set himself down to the steaming venison wrought for his refreshment and made no inquiry whether it were poached or not. Being well aware that any question in that direction was as unnecessary as had been the landlord's first query to himself. He was young, his appetite at all times of the best was sharpened by his journey, and the ale, poor as it was, seemed to him the finest brew he had ever tasted. The landlord was now all obsequiousness and told the beggar he could command the best in the house. When the time came to retire, his host brought the king by a ladder to a loft, which occupied the whole length of the building, and muttered something about the others sleeping here as well, but thanked heaven there was room enough for an army. This will not do for me, said the beggar coming down again. I'll take to the storm first. What is this chamber leading out from the tap room? That is my own, replied the landlord, with some return of his old incivility, and I'll give it up to no beggar. The king with that answering opened the door of the chamber and found himself in a room that could be barricaded. Taking a light with him, he examined it more minutely. Is this matchlock loaded? He asked, pointing to a clumsy gun, which had doubtless caused the death of more than one deer in the forest. The landlord answered in surly fashion that it was, but the king tested the point for himself. Now he said, I rest here, and you will see that I'm not disturbed. Any man who attempts to enter this room gets the contents of this gun in him, and I'll trust to my two daggers to take care of the rest. He had no dagger with him, but he spoke for the benefit of the company in the tap room. Something in his resolute manner seemed to impress the landlord, who grumbled, muttering half to himself and half to his companions. But he nevertheless retired, leaving the king alone, whereupon James fortified the door, and afterwards slept unmolested, the sleep of a tired man until broad day woke him. Wonderful is the change wrought in a man's feelings by a fair morning, a new day, a new lease of life. The recurrent morning must have been contrived to give discouraged humanity a fresh chance. The king, amazed to find that he had slept so soundly, in spite of the weight of apprehension on his mind the night before, discovered this apprehension to be groundless in the clear light of the new day. The salky villains of the tap room were now honest fellows who would harm no one, and James laughed aloud at his needless fears. The loaded matchlock in the corner, giving no hint of its influence towards a peaceful night. The landlord seemed indeed a most civil person, who would be the last to turn a penniless man from his door. James over his breakfast asked what had become of the company, and his host replied that they were woodlanders, good lads in their way, but abashed before strangers. Some of them had gone to their affairs in the forest, and others had proceeded to Saint Ninyans to enjoy the hanging set for that day. And which way may your honor be churning? asked the innkeeper, for I see that you're no beggar. I'm no beggar at such an inhospitable house as this, replied the wayfarer, but elsewhere I am a beggar, that is to say the gold I come by is asked for and not earned. Ah, that's it, is it? said the other with a nod, but for such a trade you need your weapons by your side. The deadliest weapons, rejoined the king mysteriously, are not always those most plainly on view. The sting of the wasp is generally felt before it is seen. The landlord was plainly disturbed by the intelligence he had received, and now made some ado to get the change for the gold piece. But his guest replied eerily that it did not matter. With whatever's coming to me, he said, feed the next beggar that applies to you on a rainy night with less at his belt to commend him than I have. Well, good day to you, and thank you, said the innkeeper. If you're going sterling way, your road straight through the forest, and when you come to St. Niniens, you'll be in time to see a fine hanging, for they are throttling baldy hutching song today, the biggest man between here and the border. Yes, and beyond it I warrant. That will be interesting, replied the king. Good day to you. At the side of the wall, which ran from the end of the hostel, and then closed a bit of ground, appertaining to it, James stooped ostensibly to tie his shoe, but in reality to learn if his late host made any move, for he suspected that the sinister company of the night before might not be so far away as the landlord had intimated. His strategy was not without its reward. The back door opened, and he heard the landlord say in a husky whisper to someone unseen, Run, York, as fast as you can to the second turning in the road, until St. Nini and his men, they'd best leave this chap alone, he's a robber himself. The king smiled as he walked slowly north towards the forest, and saw a bare-legged boy race at great speed across the field, and disappear at their margin. He resolved to give time for this message to arrive, so that he might not be molested, and therefore sauntered at a more leisurely rate than that at which a man usually begins a journey on an inspiring morning. Entering the forest at last, he relaxed no precaution, but kept to the middle of the road with his stout stick ready in his hand. Whether York found his men or not, he never learned, but at the second turning five stalwart ruffians fell upon him, two armed with knives, and three with cudgels. The king's early athletic training was to be put to a practical test. His first action was to break the wrist of one of the scoundrels who held a knife, but before he could pay attention to any of the others, he had received two or three resounding blows from the cudgels, and now was fully occupied, warding off their strokes, backing down the road to keep his assailants in front of him. His great agility gave him an advantage over the comparative clumsiness of the four jokals who pressed him, but he was well aware that an unguarded blow might lay him at their mercy. He was more afraid of the single knife than of the three clubs, and springing through a fortunate opening was delighted to crack the crown of the man who held the blade, stretching him helpless in a cart rut. The three who remained seemed in no way disheartened by the discomforture of their comrades, but came on with greater fury. The king retreated and retreated, baffling their evident desire to get in his rear, and thus the fighting four came to the corner of the road that James had passed a short time previously. One of the trio got in a nasty crack on the top of the beggar's bonnet, which brought him to his knees, and before he could recover his footing, a blow on the shoulder felled him. At this critical juncture, there rose a wild shout down the road, for the fighting party in coming round the turn had brought themselves within view of a sturdy pedestrian, forging along at a great pace, which he nevertheless marvelously accelerated on seeing the melee. For a moment the dazed man on the ground thought that the landlord had come to his rescue, but it was not so. It seemed as if a remnant of the storm had swept like a whirlwind among the aggressors, for the newcomer in the fray with savage exclamations, which showed his delight in a tumult scattered the enemy as a tornado drives before it the leaves of a forest. The king raised himself on his elbow and watched the gigantic stranger lay about him with his stick, while the fight with Christ of Terror disappeared into the forest, for the two that were frustrate had now recovered wind enough to run. Blush! panted the giant returning to the man on the road. I wish I had been here at the beginning. Thank goodness you came at the end, said the king, staggering unsteadily to his feet. Are you hurt? asked the stranger. I'm not sure yet, replied the king, removing his bonnet and rubbing the top of his head with the circular movement of his hand. Just a bit clawed on the crone, said the other in broad lowland scotch. It's done or some earn, but it's nothing other than when you can stand on your own feet. Oh, it's not the first time I've had to fight for my crown, said James with a laugh, but five to one are odds a little more heavy than I care to encounter. Are ye able to walk on, for I'm in a bit a hurry, as ye'd have seen if your attention had not been turned to the north? Oh, quite able, replied the king as they strode along together. Was wrong with those scamps to lay on a poor beggar man? asked the stranger. Nothing except that the beggar man is not so poor as he looks, and has a belt of gold about him, which he was foolish enough to show last night at the inn where these lads were drinking. Then the lesson hasn't taught you much, or you wouldn't say that to a complete stranger in the middle of a black forest, you alone with him, that is, unless they've succeeded in raving the belt away from you. No, they have not robbed me, and to show you that I'm not such a fool as you take me for, I may add that the moment you came up I resolved to give to my rescuer every gold piece that is in my belt. So you see, if you thought of robbing me, there is little use in taking by force what a man is more than willing to give you of his own free will. The giant threw back his head, and the wood resounded with his laughter. End of chapter 6 part 1, read by Lars Rolander. Chapter 6 part 2 of A Prince of Good Fellows This is a LibriVox recording, or LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org, reading by Lars Rolander. A Prince of Good Fellows by Robert Barr Chapter 6 part 2 What I have said seems to amuse you, said the king, not too well pleased at the boisterous merriment of his companion. A child's thought, replied the stranger, still struggling with his mouth, then striking the king on the shoulder, he continued, ah, suppose there is not another man in all broad scotland today but me, that wouldn't give the snap of his fingers for all the gold you ever carried. Then you must be wealthy, commented the king, yet it can't be that for the richest men I know are the greediest. Now it isn't that, rejoined the stranger, but if you wonder anywhere about this region you will understand what I mean when I tell you that I am Baldi Hutchinson. Baldi Hutchinson, echoed the king, wrinkling his brows, trying to remember where he had heard that name before, then with sudden enlightenment. What, not the man who is to be hanged today at Sanctinians? The very same, so you see that all the gold ever minted is of little use to a man with a tightening rope around his neck. And the comicality of the situation again overcoming Mr. Hutchinson, his robust sides shook once more with laughter. The king stopped in the middle of the road and stared at his companion with amazement. Surely you're aware, he said at last, that you are on the direct road to Sanctinians? Surely, surely, replied Baldi, and you'll remind me that we must not stand jammering here, for there will be a great gathering there to see the hanging. All my friends are there now, and if I say it, who shouldn't, I have more friends than possibly any other man in this part of Scotland. But do you mean that you are going voluntarily to your own hanging? Bless my soul man, turn in your tracks and make for across the border. Hutchinson shook his head. If I had intended to do that, he said, I could have saved myself many a long step yesterday and this morning, for I was a good deal nearer the border than I am at this moment. No, no, you see, I have passed my word. The sheriff gave me a week among my own friends to settle my worldly affairs, and bid the wife and the barons goodbye. So I said to the sheriff, arm your man whenever you are ready for the hanging. Now the word of Baldi Hutchinson has never been broken yet, and the sheriff knew it, although I must admit his swithered long ear he trusted it on an occasion like this. But at last he said to me, Baldi, says he, I'll take your plighted word. You've got a week before you, and you must just go and come as quietly as you can, and be here before the clock strikes twelve on Friday, for Falkle want to see you hang before they have their dinners. And that's what way I'm in such a hurry now, for I'm feared the farmers will be gathered, and that it will be difficult for me to place myself in the hands of the sheriff without somebody getting to chaluce what has happened. I've heard many a strange tale, said the king, but this beats anything in my experience. Oh, there's a great deal to be picked up by trumping the roads, replied Hutchinson sagely. What is your crime? inquired his majesty. Oh, the crime's neither here nor there, if they want to hang a man they'll hang in crime or no crime. But why should they want to hang a man with so many friends? While you see a man may have many friends, and yet two or three powerful enemies. My crime, as you call it, is that I'm related to the doglaces. That's the real crime. But that's not what I'm to be hanged for. Oh, no, it's all done according to the legal satisfaction of the lawyers. I'm hanged for treason to the king. A right royal crime that dubs a man a gentleman as much as if the king's sword slaps his spend it back. A crime that better men than me have often suffered for, and that many will suffer for yet ere kings are abolished. I'm thinking you see, as I said, I'm married into the doglass family, and when the Earl of Angus let his young sprig of a king slips through his fingers, it was as much as once very life was worth to whisper the name of doglass. No, I think the Earl of Angus a good man, and when he was driven to England and the doglass is scattered far and wide by this rapscallion culland with a crown on his head, being an outspoken man gave my opinion of the king damned him, and there were plenty to report it. I did not deny it indeed. I do not deny it today, therefore my next slide to be longer before the sun goes down. But surely, exclaimed the beggar, they will not hang a man in Scotland for merely saying a hasty word against the king. There's more happens in this realm than the king can sob, and all done in his name too. But to speak truth, there was a bit extra against me as well. A wean of the daft bodies in sterling made up a slip of a plot to trap the king and put him in hiding for a while until he listened to what they called reason. There were two weavers among them, and weavers are always plotting. A cobbler and such like people, and they sent word, would I come and help them? I was fool enough to write them a note, and then trusted it to their messenger. I told them to leave the king alone until I came to sterling, and then I would just nab him myself, put him under my oxter and walk down towards the border with him, for I knew that if they went on they'd but lose their silly heads. And so, wishing no harm to the king, I made my way to sterling, but did not get within a mile of it for they tricked me up at Saint Ninyans, having captured my letter. So I was sentenced, and it seems the king found out all about their plots as I knew he would, and pardoned the men who were going to kidnap him, while the man who wanted to stop such foolishness is to be hanged in his name. That seems villainously unfair, said the beggar. Didn't the eleven try to do anything for you? How do you know there were eleven? cried Hutchinson, turning round upon him. I thought you said eleven. Well, maybe I did, maybe I did, yes. There were eleven of them. They never got my letter. Their messenger was a traitor, as is usually the case, and merely told them I would have nothing to do with their foolish venture. And that brings me to the point I have been coming to. You see, although I would keep my word in any case, yet I'm not so fair to approach Saint Ninyans as another man might be. John Jamie, the king seems to have more sense in his noodle than he gets credit for. Some of his forebears would have snapped off the heads of that eleven without thinking more of the matter, but he seems to have recognized they were but poor, silly bodies, and so let them go. Now the moment they set me at liberty, a week since, I got a messenger I could trust, and sent him to the cobbler, Fleming by name. I told Fleming I was to be hanged, but a yacht still a week to get me a reprieve. I asked him to go to the king and tell him the whole truth of the matter, so I'm thinking that a pardon will be on the scaffold there before me. Still, the disappointment of the hundreds waiting to see the hanging will be great. Good God! cried the beggar aghast, stopping dead in the middle of the road, and regarding his comrade with horror. What's wrong with you? asked the big man, stopping also. As it never occurred to you that the king may be away from the palace, and no one in the place able to find him. No one able to find the king of Scotland. That's an unheard of thing. Listen to me, Hutchinson. Let us avoid St. Nenians and go direct to Sterling. It's only a mile or two further on. Let us see the cobbler before running your neck into a noose. But man, the cobbler will be at St. Nenians, either with a pardon or to see me hanged, like the good friend is. There will be no pardon at St. Nenians. Let us to Sterling. Let us to Sterling. I know that the king has not been at home for a week past. How can you know that? Never mind how I know it. Will you do what I tell you? Not I. I'm a lad of my word. Then you are a doomed man. I tell you, the king has not been in Sterling since you left St. Nenians. Then, with a burst of impatience, James cried, You stubborn fool, I am the king. At first the big man seemed inclined to laugh, and he looked over the beggar from top to toe, but presently an expression of pity overspread his countenance, and he spoke soothingly to his comrade. Yes, yes, my man, he said, I knew you were the king from the very first. Just sit down on this stone for a minute, and let me examine that clip you got on the top of the head. I fear me it's worse than I thought it was. Nonsense, cried the king, My head is perfectly right. It is yours that is gone ugly. True enough, true enough, continued Hutchinson mildly in the tone that he would have used towards a fractious child, and you were not the first that said it, but let us get on to St. Nenians. No, let us make direct for Sterling. I'll tell you what we'll do, continued Hutchinson in the same tone of exasperating tolerance. I'll choose St. Nenians and let them know the king's pardons coming. You'll trot along to Sterling, put on your king's clothes, and then come and set me free. That's the way we'll arrange it, my man. The king made a gesture of despair, but remained silent, and they walked rapidly down the road together. They had quitted the forest, and the village of St. Nenians was now in view. As they approached the place more nearly, Hutchinson was pleased to see that a great crowd had gathered to view the hanging. He seemed to take this as a personal compliment to himself, as an evidence of his popularity. The two made their way to the back of the Great Assembly, where a few soldiers guarded an enclosure within which was the anxious sheriff and his minor officials. Bless me, Baldi, cried the sheriff in a tone of great relief. I thought you had given me the slip. Ye thought nothing o'er the kind, Sheriff, rejoined Baldi complacently, or said I would be here, and here I am. You are just late enough, grumbled the sheriff. The people have been waiting these two hours. They'll think it all the better when they see it, commented Baldi. I was held back a bit on the road. Has there no message come from the king? Could you expect it when the crimes treason?" asked the sheriff impatiently. But there's been a cobbler here that's given me more bother than twenty kings, and cannot be pacified. He says the kings away from sterling, and this execution must be put by for another ten days, which is impossible. Allow me, you warden, your ear privately," said the beggar to the sheriff. I'll see you after the job's done, replied the batchet man. I have no more places to give you away. You must just stand your chances with the mob. Baldi put his open hand to the side of his mouth and whispered to the sheriff. This beggar man, he said, has been misused by a gang of thieves in Torwood Forest. I cannot intend to that now," rejoined the sheriff, with increasing irritation. No, no, continued Baldi suavely. It's not that, but he's got a frightful donor on the top of the head, and he thinks he's the king. I am the king," cried the beggar, overhearing the last word of caution, and I warn you, sir, that you proceed with this execution at your peril. I am James of Scotland, and I forbid the hanging. At this moment there broke through the insufficient military guard a wild unkempt figure whose appearance caused trepidation to the already much-tried sheriff. There's the crazy cobbler again," he moaned dejectedly. Now the fat's all in the fire. I think I'll hang the three of them trial or no trial. Oh, your majesty," cried the cobbler, and it was hard to say which of the two was the more disreputable in appearance. This man Hutchinson is innocent. You will surely not allow the hanging to take place now. You are here. I'll not allow it if I can prevent it and can get this fool of a sheriff to listen. Fool of a sheriff, say you," started that official in rising anger. Here, guard, take these two ragamuffins into custody and see that they are kept quiet till this hanging's done with. Hutchinson, get up on the scaffold. This is all your fault. Hangman, do your duty. Paul de Hutchinson begging the cobbler to make no further trouble mounted the steps leading to the platform, the hangman close behind him. Before the guard could lay hands on the king, he sprang also up the steps and took a place on the outward edge of the scaffold. Raising his hand, he demanded silence. I am James king of Scotland," he proclaimed in stentorian tones. I command you as loyal subjects to depart to your homes. There will be no execution today. The king reprieves Paul de Hutchinson. The cobbler stood at the king's back, and when he had ended, lifted his voice and shouted, God save the king! The mob heard the announcement in silence, and then a roar of laughter followed as they gazed at the two tattered figures on the edge of the platform. But the laughter was followed by an ominous howl of rage as they understood that they were like to be cheated of a spectacle. Losh Ile king him shouted the indignant sheriff as he mounted the steps, and before the beggar or his comrade could defend themselves, that official with his own hands precipitated them down among the assemblage at the foot of the scaffold. And now the spirit of a wild beast was let loose among the rabble. The king and his henchmen staggered to their feet and beat off, as well as they could, the multitude that pressed vokiferiously upon them. A soldier struggling through tried to arrest the beggar man, but the king nimbly rested his sword from him and circled the blade in the air with the venomous hiss of steel that caused the nearer portion of the mob to press back eagerly as a moment before they had pressed forward. The man who swung a blade like that was certainly worthy of respect, be he beggar or monarch. The cobbler's face was grime and bleeding, but the king's newly won sword cleared a space around him. And now the bellowing voice of Baldi Hutchinson made itself heard about the din. Stand back from him, he shouted, their decent honest bodies even if they've gone clean mad. But now these at the back of the crowd were forcing the others forward, and Baldi saw that in spite of the sword, his old and his new friend would be presently engulfed. He turned to one of the upright posts of the scaffold and gave it a tremendous shuddering kick, then reaching up to the crossbar and exerting his Samson-like strength. He wrenched it with a crash of tearing wood down from its position, and armed with this formidable weapon, he sprung into the mob, scattering it right and left with his hangman's beam. A riot and a rescue roared the sheriff, mount trooper Mackenzie, and ride as if the devil were after you to Sterling, to Sterling-man, and bring back with you a troop of the king's horse. We must stop that man getting to Sterling, said Baldi, or he'll have the king's men on you. I'll clear away for you through the people, and then you two must take leg bail for it to the forest. Stand where you are, said the beggar, the king's horse is what I want to see. Dots, you'll see them soon enough, look at that gallop. Mackenzie indeed had lost no time in getting astride his deed, and was now disappearing towards Sterling-like the wind. The more timorous of the assemblage fearing the oncoming of the cavalry, which usually made short work of all opposition, carrying little who was tramped beneath horses-hoofs, began to disperse and seek stations of greater safety than the space before the scaffold afforded. Believe me, said Baldi earnestly to his two friends, you'd better make your legs side your throttle. This is a hanging affair for you as wallows for me, for you've interfered with the due course of the law. It's not the first time I've done so, said the beggar with great composure, and shortly after they heard the thunder of horses hoofs coming from the north. Thank God! said the sheriff when he heard the welcome sound. The mob dissolved and let the free passage for the galloping cavalcade. The stout Baldi Hutchinson and his two comrades stood alone to receive the onset. The king took a few steps forward, raised his sword aloft, and shouted, Halt, Sardonaldo! Sardonaldo Sinclair obeyed the command so suddenly that his horse's front feet tore up the turf as he reigned back, while his sharp order to the troop behind him brought the company to an almost instantaneous stand. Sardonaldo, said the king, I'm for sterling with my two friends here. See that we are not followed, and ask this hilarious company to disperse quietly to their homes. Do it kindly, Sardonaldo, there is no particular hurry, and they have all the afternoon before them. Bring your troop back to sterling in an hour or two. Will your majesty not take my horse? asked Sardonaldo Sinclair. No, Donald, replied the king with a smile glancing down at his rags. Scottish horsemen have always looked well in the saddle. Yourself are an example of that, and I have no wish to make this costume fashionable as a riding suit. The sheriff stood by with drop jaw, now flung himself on his knees and craved pardon for laying hands on the lord's anointed. The least said of that, the better, remarked the king dryly. But if you are sorry, sheriff, that the people should be disappointed at not seeing a man hanged, I think you would make a very good substitute for my big friend Baldi here. The sheriff tremulously asserted that the populace were but too pleased at this exhibition of the royal clemency. If that is the case then, replied his majesty, we shall not need to trouble you, and so far well to you. The king, Baldi, and the cobbler took the road towards sterling, and Sardonaldo spread out his troop to intercept traffic in that direction. Advancing toward the bewildered crowd, Sardonaldo spoke to them, you will go quietly to your homes? He said, you have not seen the hanging, but you have witnessed today what none in Scotland ever saw before. The king intervened personally to save a doomed man, therefore be satisfied and go home. Someone in the mob cried, Hooray for the poor man's king, cheer, lads, cheer! A great uproar was lifted to the skies, a far-off the three pedestrians heard it, and Baldi, the man of many friends taking the clamour as a public compliment to himself, waved his bonnet at the distant vociferous multitude.