Sir Nigel

by Arthur Conan Doyle

  VI. IN WHICH LADY ERMYNTRUDE OPENS THE IRON COFFER

  AS in a dream Nigel heard these stupendous and incredible words. As ina dream also he had a vision of a smiling and conciliatory Abbot, of anobsequious sacrist, and of a band of archers who cleared a path for himand for the King's messenger through the motley crowd who had choked theentrance of the Abbey court. A minute later he was walking by the sideof Chandos through the peaceful cloister, and in front in the openarchway of the great gate was the broad yellow road between its bordersof green meadow-land. The spring air was the sweeter and the morefragrant for that chill dread of dishonor and captivity which had sorecently frozen his ardent heart. He had already passed the portal whena hand plucked at his sleeve and he turned to find himself confronted bythe brown honest face and hazel eyes of the archer who had interfered inhis behalf.

  "Well," said Aylward, "what have you to say to me, young sir?"

  "What can I say, my good fellow, save that I thank you with all myheart? By Saint Paul! if you had been my blood brother you could nothave stood by me more stoutly."

  "Nay! but this is not enough."

  Nigel colored with vexation, and the more so as Chandos was listeningwith his critical smile to their conversation. "If you had heard whatwas said in the court," said he, "you would understand that I am notblessed at this moment with much of this world's gear. The black deathand the monks have between them been heavy upon our estate. Willinglywould I give you a handful of gold for your assistance, since that iswhat you seem to crave; but indeed I have it not, and so once more I saythat you must be satisfied with my thanks."

  "Your gold is nothing to me," said Aylward shortly, "nor would you buymy loyalty if you filled my wallet with rose nobles, so long as you werenot a man after my own heart. But I have seen you back the yellow horse,and I have seen you face the Abbot of Waverley, and you are such amaster as I would very gladly serve if you have by chance a place forsuch a man. I have seen your following, and I doubt not that they werestout fellows in your grandfather's time; but which of them now woulddraw a bow-string to his ear? Through you I have left the service of theAbbey of Waverley, and where can I look now for a post? If I stay here Iam all undone like a fretted bow-string."

  "Nay, there can be no difficulty there," said Chandos. "Pardieu! aroistering, swaggering dare-devil archer is worth his price on theFrench border. There are two hundred such who march behind my ownperson, and I would ask nothing better than to see you among them."

  "I thank you, noble sir, for your offer," said Aylward, "and I hadrather follow your banner than many another one, for it is well knownthat it goes ever forward, and I have heard enough of the wars to knowthat there are small pickings for the man who lags behind. Yet, if theSquire will have me, I would choose to fight under the five roses ofLoring, for though I was born in the hundred of Easebourne and the rapeof Chichester, yet I have grown up and learned to use the longbow inthese parts, and as the free son of a free franklin I had rather servemy own neighbor than a stranger."

  "My good fellow," said Nigel, "I have told you that I could in no wisereward you for such service."

  "If you will but take me to the wars I will see to my own reward," saidAylward. "Till then I ask for none, save a corner of your table and sixfeet of your floor, for it is certain that the only reward I would getfrom the Abbey for this day's work would be the scourge for my back andthe stocks for my ankles. Samkin Aylward is your man, Squire Nigel, fromthis hour on, and by these ten finger-bones he trusts the Devil willfly away with him if ever he gives you cause to regret it!" So saying heraised his hand to his steel cap in salute, slung his great yellow bowover his back, and followed on some paces in the rear of his new master.

  "Pardieu! I have arrived a la bonne heure," said Chandos. "I rode fromWindsor and came to your manor house, to find it empty save for a fineold dame, who told me of your troubles. From her I walked across to theAbbey, and none too soon, for what with cloth-yard shafts for yourbody, and bell, book and candle for your soul, it was no very cheerfuloutlook. But here is the very dame herself, if I mistake not."

  It was indeed the formidable figure of the Lady Ermyntrude, gaunt,bowed and leaning on her staff, which had emerged from the door of themanor-house and advanced to greet them. She croaked with laughter, andshook her stick at the great building as she heard of the discomfitureof the Abbey court. Then she led the way into the hall where the bestwhich she could provide had been laid out for their illustrious guest.There was Chandos blood in her own veins, traceable back through the deGreys, de Multons, de Valences, de Montagues and other high and noblestrains, so that the meal had been eaten and cleared before she had donetracing the network of intermarriages and connections, with quarterings,impalements, lozenges and augmentations by which the blazonry of the twofamilies might be made to show a common origin. Back to the Conquest andbefore it there was not a noble family-tree every twig and bud of whichwas not familiar to the Dame Ermyntrude.

  And now when the trestles were cleared and the three were left alone inthe hall, Chandos broke his message to the lady. "King Edward hath everborne in mind that noble knight your son Sir Eustace," said he. "He willjourney to Southampton next week, and I am his harbinger. He bade mesay, noble and honored lady, that he would come from Guildford in anyeasy stage so that he might spend one night under your roof."

  The old dame flushed with pleasure, and then turned white with vexationat the words. "It is in truth great honor to the house of Loring," saidshe, "yet our roof is now humble and, as you have seen, our fare isplain. The King knows not that we are so poor. I fear lest we seemchurlish and niggard in his eyes."

  But Chandos reasoned away her fears. The King's retinue would journeyon to Farnham Castle. There were no ladies in his party. Though he wasKing, still he was a hardy soldier, and cared little for his ease. Inany case, since he had declared his coming, they must make the bestof it. Finally, with all delicacy, Chandos offered his own purse if itwould help in the matter. But already the Lady Ermyntrude had recoveredher composure.

  "Nay, fair kinsman, that may not be," said she. "I will make suchpreparation as I may for the King. He will bear in mind that if thehouse of Loring can give nothing else, they have always held their bloodand their lives at his disposal."

  Chandos was to ride on to Farnham Castle and beyond, but he expressedhis desire to have a warm bath ere he left Tilford, for like most of hisfellow-knights, he was much addicted to simmering in the hottestwater that he could possibly endure. The bath therefore, a high hoopedarrangement like a broader but shorter churn, was carried into theprivacy of the guest-chamber, and thither it was that Nigel was summonedto hold him company while he stewed and sweltered in his tub.

  Nigel perched himself upon the side of the high bed, swinging his legsover the edge and gazing with wonder and amusement at the quaint face,the ruffled yellow hair, and the sinewy shoulders of the famous warrior,dimly seen amid a pillar of steam. He was in a mood for talk; so Nigelwith eager lips plied him with a thousand questions about the wars,hanging upon every word which came back to him, like those of theancient oracles, out of the mist and the cloud. To Chandos himself, theold soldier for whom war had lost its freshness, it was a renewal of hisown ardent youth to listen to Nigel's rapid questions and to mark therapt attention with which he listened.

  "Tell me of the Welsh, honored sir," asked the Squire. "What manner ofsoldiers are the Welsh?"

  "They are very valiant men of war," said Chandos, splashing about in histub. "There is good skirmishing to be had in their valleys if you ridewith a small following. They flare up like a furzebush in the flames,but if for a short space you may abide the heat of it, then there is achance that it may be cooler."

  "And the Scotch?" asked Nigel. "You have made war upon them also, as Iunderstand."

  "The Scotch knights have no masters in the world, and he who can holdhis own with the best of them, be it a Douglas, a Murray or a Seaton,has nothing more to learn. Though you be a hard man, you will alwaysmeet as hard a
one if you ride northward. If the Welsh be like the furzefire, then, pardieu! the Scotch are the peat, for they will smolder andyou will never come to the end of them. I have had many happy hourson the marches of Scotland, for even if there be no war the Percies ofAlnwick or the Governor of Carlisle can still raise a little bickeringwith the border clans."

  "I bear in mind that my father was wont to say that they were very stoutspearmen."

  "No better in the world, for the spears are twelve foot long and theyhold them in very thick array; but their archers are weak, save only themen of Ettrick and Selkirk who come from the forest. I pray you to openthe lattice, Nigel, for the steam is overthick. Now in Wales it is thespearmen who are weak, and there are no archers in these islands likethe men of Gwent with their bows of elm, which shoot with such powerthat I have known a cavalier to have his horse killed when the shafthad passed through his mail breeches, his thigh and his saddle. And yet,what is the most strongly shot arrow to these new balls of iron drivenby the fire-powder which will crush a man's armor as an egg is crushedby a stone? Our fathers knew them not."

  "Then the better for us," cried Nigel, "since there is at least onehonorable venture which is all our own."

  Chandos chuckled and turned upon the flushed youth a twinkling andsympathetic eye. "You have a fashion of speech which carries me back tothe old men whom I met in my boyhood," said he. "There were some of thereal old knight-errants left in those days, and they spoke as you do.Young as you are, you belong to another age. Where got you that trick ofthought and word?"

  "I have had only one to teach me, the Lady Ermyntrude."

  "Pardieu! she has trained a proper young hawk ready to stoop at a lordlyquarry," said Chandos. "I would that I had the first unhooding of you.Will you not ride with me to the wars?"

  The tears brimmed over from Nigel's eyes, and he wrung the gaunt handextended from the bath. "By Saint Paul! what could I ask better in theworld? I fear to leave her, for she has none other to care for her. Butif it can in any way be arranged--"

  "The King's hand may smooth it out. Say no more until he is here. But ifyou wish to ride with me--"

  "What could man wish for more? Is there a Squire in England who wouldnot serve under the banner of Chandos! Whither do you go, fair sir? Andwhen do you go? Is it to Scotland? Is it to Ireland? Is it to France?But alas, alas!"

  The eager face had clouded. For the instant he had forgotten that a suitof armor was as much beyond his means as a service of gold plate. Downin a twinkling came all his high hopes to the ground. Oh, these sordidmaterial things, which come between our dreams and their fulfilment! TheSquire of such a knight must dress with the best. Yet all the fee simpleof Tilford would scarce suffice for one suit of plate.

  Chandos, with his quick wit and knowledge of the world, had guessed thecause of this sudden change. "If you fight under my banner it is for meto find the weapons," said he. "Nay, I will not be denied."

  But Nigel shook his head sadly. "It may not be. The Lady Ermyntrudewould sell this old house and every acre round it, ere she would permitme to accept this gracious bounty which you offer. Yet I do not despair,for only last week I won for myself a noble war-horse for which I paidnot a penny, so perchance a suit of armor may also come my way."

  "And how won you the horse?"

  "It was given me by the monks of Waverley."

  "This is wonderful. Pardieu! I should have expected, from what I hadseen, that they would have given you little save their malediction."

  "They had no use for the horse, and they gave it to me."

  "Then we have only to find some one who has no use for a suit of armorand will give it to you. Yet I trust that you will think better of itand let me, since that good lady proves that I am your kinsman, fit youfor the wars."

  "I thank you, noble sir, and if I should turn to anyone it would indeedbe to you; but there are other ways which I would try first. But I prayyou, good Sir John, to tell me of some of your noble spear-runningsagainst the French, for the whole land rings with the tale of your deedsand I have heard that in one morning three champions have fallen beforeyour lance. Was it not so?"

  "That it was indeed so these scars upon my body will prove; but thesewere the follies of my youth."

  "How can you call them follies? Are they not the means by whichhonorable advancement may be gained and one's lady exalted?"

  "It is right that you should think so, Nigel. At your age a man shouldhave a hot head and a high heart. I also had both and fought for mylady's glove or for my vow or for the love of fighting. But as one growsolder and commands men one has other things to think of. One thinks lessof one's own honor and more of the safety of the army. It is not yourown spear, your own sword, your own arm, which will turn the tide offight; but a cool head may save a stricken field. He who knows when hishorsemen should charge and when they should fight on foot, he who canmix his archers with his men-at-arms in such a fashion that each cansupport the other, he who can hold up his reserve and pour it into thebattle when it may turn the tide, he who has a quick eye for boggy landand broken ground--that is the man who is of more worth to an army thanRoland, Oliver and all the paladins."

  "Yet if his knights fail him, honored sir, all his head-work will notprevail."

  "True enough, Nigel; so may every Squire ride to the wars with his soulon fire, as yours is now. But I must linger no longer, for the King'sservice must be done. I will dress, and when I have bid farewell to thenoble Dame Ermyntrude I will on to Farnham; but you will see me hereagain on the day that the King comes."

  So Chandos went his way that evening, walking his horse through thepeaceful lanes and twanging his citole as he went, for he loved musicand was famous for his merry songs. The cottagers came from their hutsand laughed and clapped as the rich full voice swelled and sank to thecheery tinkling of the strings. There were few who saw him pass thatwould have guessed that the quaint one-eyed man with the yellow hair wasthe toughest fighter and craftiest man of war in Europe. Once only, ashe entered Farnham, an old broken man-at-arms ran out in his rags andclutched at his horse as a dog gambols round his master. Chandos threwhim a kind word and a gold coin as he passed on to the castle.

  In the meanwhile young Nigel and the Lady Ermyntrude, left alone withtheir difficulties, looked blankly in each other's faces.

  "The cellar is well nigh empty," said Nigel. "There are two firkins ofsmall beer and a tun of canary. How can we set such drink before theKing and his court?"

  "We must have some wine of Bordeaux. With that and the mottled cow'scalf and the fowls and a goose, we can set forth a sufficient repast ifhe stays only for the one night. How many will be with him?"

  "A dozen, at the least."

  The old dame wrung her hands in despair. "Nay, take it not to heart,dear lady!" said Nigel. "We have but to say the word and the King wouldstop at Waverley, where he and his court would find all that they couldwish."

  "Never!" cried the Lady Ermyntrude. "It would be shame and disgrace tous forever if the King were to pass our door when he has graciously saidthat he was fain to enter in. Nay, I will do it. Never did I think thatI would be forced to this, but I know that he would wish it, and I willdo it."

  She went to the old iron coffer, and taking a small key from her girdleshe unlocked it. The rusty hinges, screaming shrilly as she threw backthe lid, proclaimed how seldom it was that she had penetrated into thesacred recesses of her treasure-chest. At the top were some relics ofold finery: a silken cloak spangled with golden stars, a coif of silverfiligree, a roll of Venetian lace. Beneath were little packets tied insilk which the old lady handled with tender care: a man's hunting-glove,a child's shoe, a love-knot done in faded green ribbon, some letters inrude rough script, and a vernicle of Saint Thomas. Then from the verybottom of the box she drew three objects, swathed in silken cloth, whichshe uncovered and laid upon the table. The one was a bracelet of roughgold studded with uncut rubies, the second was a gold salver, and thethird was a high goblet of the same metal.

  "Y
ou have heard me speak of these, Nigel, but never before have you seenthem, for indeed I have not opened the hutch for fear that we might betempted in our great need to turn them into money. I have kept them outof my sight and even out of my thoughts. But now it is the honor of thehouse which calls, and even these must go. This goblet was that which myhusband, Sir Nele Loring, won after the intaking of Belgrade when he andhis comrades held the lists from matins to vespers against the flower ofthe French chivalry. The salver was given him by the Earl of Pembroke inmemory of his valor upon the field of Falkirk."

  "And the bracelet, dear lady?"

  "You will not laugh, Nigel?"

  "Nay, why should I laugh?"

  "The bracelet was the prize for the Queen of Beauty which was given tome before all the high-born ladies of England by Sir Nele Loring a monthbefore our marriage--the Queen of Beauty, Nigel--I, old and twisted, asyou see me. Five strong men went down before his lance ere he won thattrinket for me. And now in my last years--"

  "Nay, dear and honored lady, we will not part with it."

  "Yes, Nigel, he would have it so. I can hear his whisper in my ear.Honor to him was everything--the rest nothing. Take it from me, Nigel,ere my heart weakens. To-morrow you will ride with it to Guildford; youwill see Thorold the goldsmith; and you will raise enough money to payfor all that we shall need for the King's coming." She turned her faceaway to hide the quivering of her wrinkled features, and the crash ofthe iron lid covered the sob which burst from her overwrought soul.