by G. A. Henty
CHAPTER II.
THE HUT IN THE MARSHES.
A week later a party of knights and court gallants, riding across thefields without the walls, checked their horses to look at a strugglewhich was going on between two parties of boys. One, which wasapparently the most powerful, had driven the other off from a heap ofrubbish which had been carried without the walls. Each party had a flagattached to a stick, and the boys were armed with clubs such as thosecarried by the apprentice boys. Many of them carried mimic shields madeof wood, and had stuffed their flat caps with wool or shavings, thebetter to protect their heads from blows. The smaller party had justbeen driven from the heap, and their leader was urging them to makeanother effort to regain it.
"That is a gallant-looking lad, and a sturdy, my Lord de Vaux," a boy ofabout ten years of age said. "He bears himself like a young knight, andhe has had some hard knocks, for, see, the blood is streaming down hisface. One would scarcely expect to see these varlets of the city playingso roughly."
"The citizens have proved themselves sturdy fighters before now, myprince," the other said; "they are ever independent, and hold to theirrights even against the king. The contingent which the city sends to thewars bears itself as well as those of any of the barons."
"See!" the boy interrupted, "they are going to charge again. The leaderhas himself seized the flag and has swung his shield behind him, just asa knight might do if leading the stormers against a place of strength.Let us stop till we see the end of it."
With a shout of "Aldgate! Aldgate!" the leader of the assailants dashedforward, followed by his comrades, and with a rush reached the top ofthe heap.
"Well done!" the young prince exclaimed, clapping his hands. "See how helays about him with that club of his. There, he has knocked down theleader of the defenders as if his club had been a battle-ax. Well done,young sir, well done! But his followers waver. The others are too strongfor them. Stand, you cowards, rally round your leader!" And in hisenthusiasm the young prince urged his horse forward to the scene ofconflict.
But the assailants were mastered; few of them could gain the top of theheap, and those who did so were beaten back from it by the defenders.Heavy blows were exchanged, and blood flowed freely from many of theirheads and faces, for in those days boys thought less than they do nowof hard knocks, and manliness and courage were considered the first ofvirtues. Their leader, however, still stood his ground on the crest,though hardly pressed on all sides, and used his club both to strike andparry with a skill which aroused the warmest admiration on the part ofthe prince. In vain his followers attempted to come to his rescue; eachtime they struggled up the heap they were beaten back again by those onthe crest.
"Yield thee prisoner," the assailants of their leader shouted, and theprince in his excitement echoed the cry. The lad, however, heard orheeded them not. He still kept his flag aloft in his left hand. With asudden spring he struck down one of his opponents, plucked up their flagfrom the ground, and then fought his way back through his foes to theedge of the battle ground; then a heavy blow struck him on the temple,and, still holding the flags, he rolled senseless to the foot of theheap. The defenders with shouts of triumph were rushing down, when theprince urged his horse forward.
"Cease!" he said authoritatively. "Enough has been done, my youngmasters, and the sport is becoming a broil."
Hitherto the lads, absorbed in their strife, had paid but little heed tothe party of onlookers; but at the word they at once arrested theirarms, and, baring their heads, stood still in confusion.
"No harm is done," the prince said, "though your sport is of theroughest; but I fear that your leader is hurt, he moves not; lift hishead from the ground." The boy was indeed still insensible. "My lords,"the prince said to the knights who had now ridden up, "I fear that thisboy is badly hurt; he is a gallant lad, and has the spirit of a trueknight in him, citizen's son though he be. My Lord de Vaux, will you bidyour squire ride at full speed to the Tower and tell Master Roger, theleech, to come here with all haste, and to bring such nostrums as may beneedful for restoring the boy to life?"
The Tower was but half a mile distant, but before Master Roger arrivedWalter had already recovered consciousness, and was just sitting up whenthe leech hurried up to the spot.
"You have arrived too late, Master Roger," the prince said; "but I doubtnot that a dose of your cordials may yet be of use, for he is stilldazed, and the blow he got would have cracked his skull had it been athin one."
The leech poured some cordial from a vial into a small silver cup andheld it to the boy's lips. It was potent and nigh took his breath away;but when he had drunk it he struggled to his feet, looking ashamed andconfused when he saw himself the center of attention of so many knightsof the court.
"What is thy name, good lad?" the prince asked.
"I am known as Walter Fletcher."
"You are a brave lad," the prince said, "and if you bear you as well asa man as you did but now, I would wish no better to ride beside me inthe day of battle. Should the time ever come when you tire of thepeaceable life of a citizen and wish to take service in the wars, go tothe Tower and ask boldly for the Prince of Wales, and I will enroll youamong my own men-at-arms, and I promise you that you shall have yourshare of fighting as stark as that of the assault of yon heap. Now, mylords, let us ride on; I crave your pardon for having so long detainedyou."
Walter was some days before he could again cross London Bridge to informhis friend Geoffrey of the honor which had befallen him of beingaddressed by the Prince of Wales. During the interval he was forced tolie abed, and he was soundly rated by Master Giles for again gettinginto mischief. Geoffrey was far more sympathetic, and said: "Well,Walter, although I would not that Gaffer Giles heard me say so, I thinkyou have had a piece of rare good fortune. It may be that you may neverhave cause to recall the young prince's promise to him; but should yousome day decide to embrace the calling of arms, you could wish fornothing better than to ride behind the Prince of Wales. He is, by allaccounts, of a most noble and generous disposition, and is said, youngas he is, to be already highly skilled in arms. Men say that he will bea wise king and a gallant captain, such a one as a brave soldier mightbe proud to follow; and as the king will be sure to give him plenty ofopportunities of distinguishing himself, those who ride with him may becertain of a chance of doing valorous deeds. I will go across the bridgeto-morrow, and will have a talk with Master Fletcher. The sooner youare apprenticed the sooner you will be out of your time; and since Madgemarried eight years since I have been lonely in the house and shall beglad to have you with me."
Geoffrey Ward found his friend more ready to accede to his request thatWalter should be apprenticed to him than he had expected. The bowyer,indeed, was a quiet man, and the high spirits and somewhat turbulentdisposition of his young charge gave him so much uneasiness that he wasnot sorry the responsibility of keeping him in order should beundertaken by Geoffrey. Moreover, he could not but agree with theargument that the promise of the Prince of Wales offered a morefavorable opportunity for Walter to enter upon the career of arms, andso, perhaps, some day to win his way back to rank and honors than couldhave been looked for. Therefore, on the following week Walter wasindentured to the armorer, and, as was usual at the time, left his abodein Aldgate and took up his residence with his master. He threw himselfwith his whole heart into the work, and by the time he was fifteen wason the way to become a skillful craftsman. His frame and musclesdeveloped with labor, and he was now able to swing all save the veryheaviest hammers in the shop. He had never abated in his practice atarms, and every day when work was over he and his master had a long bouttogether with cudgel or quarter-staff, sword or ax. Walter, of course,used light weapons, but so quick was he with them that Geoffrey Wardacknowledged that he needed to put out all his skill to hold his ownwith his pupil. But it was not alone with Geoffrey that Walter had anopportunity of learning the use of arms. Whenever a soldier, returnedfrom the wars, came to have a weapon repaired by the armorer, he wouldbe s
ure of an invitation to come in in the evening and take a stoup ofale, and tell of the battles and sieges he had gone through, and in thecourse of the evening would be asked to have a bout of arms with theyoung apprentice, whom Geoffrey represented as being eager to learn howto use the sword as well as how to make it.
Thus Walter became accustomed to different styles of fighting, but foundthat very few, indeed, of their visitors were nearly so well skilledwith their arms as his master. Some of the soldiers were mortified atfinding themselves unable to hold their own with a boy; others wouldtake their reverses in good part and would come again, bringing withthem some comrade known to be particularly skilled with his weapons, totry the temper of the armorer's apprentice. At the age of fifteen Walterhad won the prize at the sports, both for the best cudgel play and forthe best sword-and-buckler play among the apprentices, to the greatdisgust of many who had almost reached the age of manhood and were justout of their time.
On Sundays Walter always spent the day with Giles Fletcher and his wife,going to mass with them and walking in the fields, where, afterservice, the citizens much congregated. Since Walter had gone to work hehad taken no part in the fights and frolics of his former comrades; hewas, in fact, far too tired at the end of his day's work to have anydesire to do aught but to sit and listen to the tales of the wars, ofthe many old soldiers who pervaded the country. Some of these men weredisabled by wounds or long service, but the greater portion were idlescamps, who cared not for the hard blows and sufferings of a campaign,liking better to hang about taverns drinking, at the expense of those towhom they related fabulous tales of the gallant actions they hadperformed. Many, too, wandered over the country, sometimes in twos orthrees, sometimes in larger bands, robbing and often murdering travelersor attacking lonely houses. When in one part or another their ill deedsbecame too notorious, the sheriffs would call out a posse of men andthey would be hunted down like wild beasts. It was not, however, easy tocatch them, for great tracts of forests still covered a large portion ofthe country and afforded them shelter.
In the country round London these pests were very numerous, for here,more than anywhere else, was there a chance of plunder. The swamps onthe south side of the river had especially evil reputation. FromSouthwark to Putney stretched a marshy country over which, at hightides, the river frequently flowed. Here and there were wretched huts,difficult of access and affording good hiding-places for those pursuedby justice, since searchers could be seen approaching a long way off,and escape could be made by paths across the swamp known only to thedwellers there, and where heavily armed men dared not follow. Furthersouth, in the wild country round Westerham, where miles of heath andforest stretched away in all directions, was another noted place wherethe robber vagrants mustered thickly, and the Sheriff of Kent had muchtrouble with them.
The laws in those days were extremely severe, and death was the penaltyof those caught plundering. The extreme severity of the laws, however,operated in favor of its breakers, since the sympathy of the people whohad little to lose was with them, and unless caught red-handed in theact they could generally escape, since none save those who hadthemselves been robbed would say aught that would place the pursuers ontheir traces, or give testimony which would cost the life of afellow-creature. The citizens of London were loud in their complaintsagainst the discharged soldiers, for it was upon them that the lossmainly fell, and it was on their petitions to the king that the sheriffsof Middlesex and Hertford, Essex, Surrey, and Kent, were generallystirred up to put down the ill-doers.
Sometimes these hunts were conducted in a wholesale way, and the wholeposse of a county would be called out. Then all found within its limitswho had not land or visible occupation were collected. Any against whomcharges could be brought home were hung without more ado, and the restwere put on board ship and sent across the sea to the army. Sometimes,when they found the country becoming too hot for them, these men wouldtake service with some knight or noble going to the war, anxious to takewith him as strong a following as might be, and not too particular as tothe character of his soldiers.
Walter, being of an adventurous spirit, was sometimes wont of a summerevening, when his work was done, to wander across the marshes, takingwith him his bow and arrows, and often bringing home a wild duck or twowhich he had shot in the pools. More than once surly men had accostedhim, and had threatened to knock him on the head if they again found himwandering that way; but Walter laughed at their threats, and seeing thatthough but an apprentice lad, he might be able to send an arrow asstraight to the mark as another, they were content to leave him alone.
One day when he was well-nigh in the heart of the swamp of Lambeth hesaw a figure making his way across. The hour was already late and thenight was falling, and the appearance of the man was so different fromthat of the usual denizens of the swamp that Walter wondered what hisbusiness there might be. Scarcely knowing why he did so, Walter threwhimself down among some low brushwood and watched the approachingfigure. When he came near he recognized the face, and saw, to hissurprise, that it was a knight who had but the day before stopped atthe armorer's shop to have two rivets put in his hauberk. He hadparticularly noticed him, because of the arrogant manner in which hespoke. Walter had himself put in the rivets, and had thought, as hebuckled on the armor again, how unpleasant a countenance was that of itswearer. He was a tall and powerful man, and would have been handsome hadnot his eyes been too closely set together; his nose was narrow, and theexpression of his face reminded Walter of a hawk. He had now laid asidehis helmet, and his figure was covered with a long cloak.
"He is up to no good," Walter said to himself, "for what dealings coulda knight honestly have with the ruffians who haunt these swamps? It isassuredly no business of mine, but it may lead to an adventure, and Ihave had no real fun since I left Aldgate. I will follow and see if Ican get to the bottom of the mystery."
When he came close to the spot where Walter was lying the knight pausedand looked round as if uncertain of his way. For four or five minutes hestood still, and then gave a shout of "Humphrey!" at the top of hisvoice. It was answered by a distant "Halloo!" and looking in thedirection from which the answer had come, Walter saw a figure appearabove some bushes some four hundred yards distant. The knight at oncedirected his steps in that direction, and Walter crept cautiously afterhim.
"A pest upon these swamps and quagmires," the knight said angrily as heneared the other. "Why didst not meet me and show me the way through,as before?"
"I thought that as you had come once you would be able to find your wayhither again," the man said. "Had I thought that you would have missedit I would have come ten times as far, rather than have had my nameshouted all over the country. However, there is no one to hear, did youshout thrice as loud, so no harm is done."
"I thought I saw a figure a short time since," the knight said.
The man looked round in all directions.
"I see none," he said, "and you may have been mistaken, for the light iswaning fast. It were ill for any one I caught prying about here. Butcome in, sir knight; my hovel is not what your lordship is accustomedto, but we may as well talk there as here beneath the sky."
The two men disappeared from Walter's sight. The latter in much surprisecrept forward, but until he reached the spot where he had last seen thespeakers he was unable to account for their disappearance. Then he sawthat the spot, although apparently a mere clump of bushes no higher thanthe surrounding country, was really an elevated hummock of ground. Anyone might have passed close to the bushes without suspecting that aughtlay among them. In the center, however, the ground had been cut away,and a low doorway, almost hidden by the bushes, gave access into ahalf-subterranean hut; the roof was formed of an old boat turned bottomupward, and this had been covered with brown turf. It was an excellentplace of concealment, as searchers might have passed within a foot ofthe bushes without suspecting that aught lay concealed within them.
"A clever hiding-place," Walter thought to himself. "No wonder the possese
arch these swamps in vain. This is the lowest and wettest part of theswamp, and would be but lightly searched, for none would suspect thatthere was a human habitation among these brown ditches and stagnantpools."
To his disappointment the lad could hear nothing of the conversationwhich was going on within the hut. The murmur of voices came to his ear,but no words were audible; however, he remained patiently, thinking thatperhaps as they came out a word might be said which would give him aclew to the object of the mysterious interview between a knight and onewho was evidently a fugitive from justice.
His patience was rewarded. In the half-hour which he waited the nighthad fallen, and a thick fog which was rising over the swamps rendered itdifficult to discern anything at the distance of a few paces.
"You are quite sure that you can manage it?" a voice said as the two menissued from the hut.
"There is no difficulty in managing it," the other replied, "if the boatis punctual to the hour named. It will be getting dusk then, and if oneboat runs into another no one need be surprised. Such accidents willhappen."
"They will be here just before nightfall," the other said, "and you willknow the boat by the white mantle the lady will wear. The reward will befifty pieces of gold, of which you have received ten as earnest. You cantrust me, and if the job be well done I shall take no count of theearnest-money."
"You may consider it as good as done," the other replied. "If the boatis there the matter is settled. Now I will lead you back across theswamps. I would not give much for your life if you tried to find the wayalone. Who would have thought when you got me off from being hung, afterthat little affair at Bruges, that I should be able to make myselfuseful to your worship?"
"You may be sure," the knight replied, "that it was just because Iforesaw that you might be useful that I opened the doors of your cellthat night. It is always handy in times like these to be able to layone's hand on a man whom you can hang if you choose to open your mouth."
"Did it not strike you, sir knight, that it might enter my mind that itwould be very advisable for me to free myself from one who stands towardme in that relation?"
"Certainly it did," the knight replied; "but as I happen to be able tomake it for your interest to serve me, that matter did not trouble me. Iknew better than to bring money into this swamp of yours, when I mightbe attacked by half a dozen ruffians like yourself; and I took theprecaution of informing Peter, the captain of my men-at-arms, of thespot to which I was going, bidding him, in case I came not back, to seta hue-and-cry on foot and hunt down all who might be found here, withthe especial description of your worthy self."
Walter could hear no more; he had taken off his shoes and followed themat a distance, and their voices still acted as a guide to him throughthe swamp. But he feared to keep too close, as, although the darknesswould conceal his figure, he might at any moment tread in a pool orditch, and so betray his presence. Putting his foot each time to theground with the greatest caution, he moved quietly after them. Theyspoke little more, but their heavy footsteps on the swampy ground were asufficient guidance for him. At last these ceased suddenly. A few wordswere spoken, and then he heard returning steps. He drew aside a few feetand crouched down, saw a dim figure pass through the mist, and thenresumed his way.
The ground was firmer now, and, replacing his shoes, he walked brisklyon. As he neared the higher ground along which the road ran he heard twohorsemen galloping away in the distance. He now turned his face east,and after an hour's walking he reached the armorer's.
"Why, Walter, you are late," the smith said. "The men are in bed thishour or more, and I myself can scarce keep awake. Where hast thou been,my boy?"
"I have been in the swamps and lost my way," Walter replied.
"It is a bad neighborhood, lad, and worse are the people who live there.If I had my way the whole posse should be called out, and the marshessearched from end to end, and all found there should be knocked on thehead and thrown into their own ditches. There would be no fear of anyhonest man coming to his end thereby; but now to bed, lad. You can tellme all about it to-morrow; but we have a rare day's work before us, andthe fire must be alight at daybreak."
On his way back Walter had debated with himself whether to inform hismaster of what had happened. He was, however, bent upon having anadventure on his own account, and it was a serious thing in those daysfor an apprentice lad to bring an accusation against a noble. The citywould not indeed allow even an apprentice to be overridden, and althoughGeoffrey Ward's forge stood beyond the city walls it was yet within theliberties, the city allowing its craftsmen to open shops just outsidethe gates, and to enjoy the same privileges as if dwelling actuallywithin the walls.
On the following afternoon Walter asked leave to cease work an hourearlier than usual, as he wished to go across into the city. The armorerwas surprised, since this was the first time that such a thing hadhappened since the lad had worked for him.
"What are you up to, Walter?--some mischief, I will be bound. Go, lad;you have worked so steadily that you have well earned more than anhour's holiday should you want it."
Walter crossed the bridge, and seeking out four or five of his oldcompanions, begged them to bring their bows and clubs and rejoin him atthe stairs by London Bridge. To their laughing inquiries whether hemeant to go a-shooting of fish, he told them to ask no questions untilthey joined him. As soon as work was over the boys gathered at thesteps, where Walter had already engaged a boat. There were some mockinginquiries from the watermen standing about as to where they were goingshooting. Walter answered with some light chaff, and, two of the partytaking oars, they started up the river.
"Now I will tell you what we are bent on," Walter said. "From some wordsI overheard I believe that some of the ruffians over in the marshes arethis evening going to make an attack upon a boat with a lady in itcoming down the river. We will be on the spot, and can give them areception such as they do not expect."
"Do you know who the lady is, Walter?"
"I have not the least idea. I only caught a few words, and may be wrong;still it will do no harm should I be mistaken."
The tide was running down strongly, for there had been a good deal ofrain during the preceding week, and all night it had poured heavily. Itwas fine now, but the stream was running down thick and turbid, and itneeded all the boys' efforts to force the wherry against it. They rowedby turns; all were fairly expert at the exercise, for in those days theThames was at once the great highway and playground of London. To thewharves below the bridge ships brought the rich merchandise of Italy andthe Low Countries; while from above, the grain needed for the wants ofthe great city was floated down in barges from the west.
Passing the Temple, the boys rowed along by the green banks and fieldsas far as Westminster, which at that time was almost a rival of thecity, for here were the abbey and great monastery; here were the king'spalace and court, and the houses of many of his nobles. Then they wentalong by the low shores of Millbank, keeping a sharp lookout for boatsgoing down with the stream. It was already getting dark, for Walter hadnot allowed for the strength of the stream, and he was full of anxietylest he should arrive too late.
