by Howard Pyle
CHAPTER 9
"How now, messieurs?" said a harsh voice, that fell upon the turmoillike a thunder-clap, and there stood Sir James Lee. Instantly thestruggle ceased, and the combatants scrambled to their feet.
The older lads stood silent before their chief, but Myles was deaf andblind and mad with passion, he knew not where he stood or what he saidor did. White as death, he stood for a while glaring about him, catchinghis breath convulsively. Then he screamed hoarsely.
"Who struck me? Who struck me when I was down? I will have his bloodthat struck me!" He caught sight of Blunt. "It was he that struck me!"he cried. "Thou foul traitor! thou coward!" and thereupon leaped at hisenemy like a wild-cat.
"Stop!" cried Sir James Lee, clutching him by the arm.
Myles was too blinded by his fury to see who it was that held him. "Iwill not stop!" he cried, struggling and striking at the knight. "Let mego! I will have his life that struck me when I was down!"
The next moment he found himself pinned close against the wall, andthen, as though his sight came back, he saw the grim face of the oldone-eyed knight looking into his.
"Dost thou know who I am?" said a stern, harsh voice.
Instantly Myles ceased struggling, and his arms fell at his side. "Aye,"he said, in a gasping voice, "I know thee." He swallowed spasmodicallyfor a moment or two, and then, in the sudden revulsion of feeling, burstout sobbing convulsively.
Sir James marched the two off to his office, he himself walkingbetween them, holding an arm of each, the other lads following behind,awe-struck and silent. Entering the office, Sir James shut the doorbehind him, leaving the group of squires clustered outside about thestone steps, speculating in whispers as to what would be the outcome ofthe matter.
After Sir James had seated himself, the two standing facing him, heregarded them for a while in silence. "How now, Walter Blunt," said heat last, "what is to do?"
"Why, this," said Blunt, wiping his bleeding lip. "That fellow, MylesFalworth, hath been breeding mutiny and revolt ever sin he came hitheramong us, and because he was thus mutinous I would punish him therefor."
"In that thou liest!" burst out Myles. "Never have I been mutinous in mylife."
"Be silent, sir," said Sir James, sternly. "I will hear thee anon."
"Nay," said Myles, with his lips twitching and writhing, "I will not besilent. I am friendless here, and ye are all against me, but I will notbe silent, and brook to have lies spoken of me."
Even Blunt stood aghast at Myles's boldness. Never had he heard any oneso speak to Sir James before. He did not dare for the moment even tolook up. Second after second of dead stillness passed, while Sir Jamessat looking at Myles with a stern, terrifying calmness that chilled himin spite of the heat of his passion.
"Sir," said the old man at last, in a hard, quiet voice, "thou dost knownaught of rules and laws of such a place as this. Nevertheless, itis time for thee to learn them. So I will tell thee now that if thouopenest thy lips to say only one single word more except at my bidding,I will send thee to the black vault of the donjon to cool thy hotspirits on bread and water for a week." There was something in themeasured quietness of the old knight's tone that quelled Myles utterlyand entirely. A little space of silence followed. "Now, then, Blunt,"said Sir James, turning to the bachelor, "tell me all the ins and outsof this business without any more underdealing."
This time Blunt's story, though naturally prejudiced in his own favor,was fairly true. Then Myles told his side of the case, the old knightlistening attentively.
"Why, how now, Blunt," said Sir James, when Myles had ended, "I myselfgave the lads leave to go to the river to bathe. Wherefore shouldst thouforbid one of them?"
"I did it but to punish this fellow for his mutiny," said the bachelor."Methought we at their head were to have oversight concerning them."
"So ye are," said the knight; "but only to a degree. Ere ye take it uponye to gainsay any of my orders or permits, come ye first to me. Dostthou understand?"
"Aye," answered Blunt, sullenly.
"So be it, and now get thee gone," said the knight; "and let me hear nomore of beating out brains with wooden clogs. An ye fight your battles,let there not be murder in them. This is twice that the like hathhapped; gin I hear more of such doings--" He did utter his threat, butstopped short, and fixed his one eye sternly upon the head squire. "Nowshake hands, and be ye friends," said he, abruptly.
Blunt made a motion to obey, but Myles put his hand behind him.
"Nay, I shake not hands with any one who struck me while I was down."
"So be it," said the knight, grimly. "Now thou mayst go, Blunt. Thou,Falworth, stay; I would bespeak thee further."
"Tell me," said he, when the elder lad had left them, "why wilt thou notserve these bachelors as the other squires do? Such is the custom here.Why wilt thou not obey it?"
"Because," said Myles, "I cannot stomach it, and they shall not make meserve them. An thou bid me do it, sir, I will do it; but not at theircommand."
"Nay," said the knight, "I do not bid thee do them service. That liethwith thee, to render or not, as thou seest fit. But how canst thou hopeto fight single-handed against the commands of a dozen lads all olderand mightier than thou?"
"I know not," said Myles; "but were they an hundred, instead ofthirteen, they should not make me serve them."
"Thou art a fool!" said the old knight, smiling faintly, "for that be'stnot courage, but folly. When one setteth about righting a wrong, onedriveth not full head against it, for in so doing one getteth naught buthard knocks. Nay, go deftly about it, and then, when the time is ripe,strike the blow. Now our beloved King Henry, when he was the Earl ofDerby, what could he have gained had he stood so against the old KingRichard, brooking the King face to face? I tell thee he would have beenknocked on the head as thou wert like to have been this day. Now wereI thee, and had to fight a fight against odds, I would first get mefriends behind me, and then--" He stopped short, but Myles understoodhim well enough.
"Sir," said he, with a gulp, "I do thank thee for thy friendship, andask thy pardon for doing as I did anon."
"I grant thee pardon," said the knight, "but tell thee plainly, an thoudost face me so again, I will truly send thee to the black cell for aweek. Now get thee away."
All the other lads were gone when Myles came forth, save only thefaithful Gascoyne, who sacrificed his bath that day to stay with hisfriend; and perhaps that little act of self-denial moved Myles more thanmany a great thing might have done.
"It was right kind of thee, Francis," said he, laying his handaffectionately on his friend's shoulder. "I know not why thou lovest meso."
"Why, for one thing, this matter," answered his friend; "becausemethinks thou art the best fighter and the bravest one of all of ussquires."
Myles laughed. Nevertheless Gascoyne's words were a soothing balm formuch that had happened that day. "I will fight me no more just now,"said he; and then he told his friend all that Sir James had advisedabout biding his time.
Gascoyne blew a long whistle. "Beshrew me!" quoth he, "but methinks oldBruin is on thy side of the quarrel, Myles. An that be so, I am withthee also, and others that I can name as well."
"So be it," said Myles. "Then am I content to abide the time when we maybecome strong enough to stand against them."
