A Monk of Fife

by Various

  CHAPTER XXX--HOW NORMAN LESLIE TOOK SERVICE WITH THE ENGLISH

  "What make we now?" I asked of Barthelemy Barrette, one day, after thecompanies had scattered, as I have said, and we had gone back intoCompiegne. "What stroke may France now strike for the Maid?" He hunghis head and plucked at his beard, ere he spoke.

  "To be as plain with you as my heart is with myself, Norman," he answeredat last, "deliverance, or hope of deliverance, see I none. The Englishhave the bird in the cage, and Rouen is not a strength that can be takenby sudden onslaught. And, were it so, where is our force, in midwinter?I rather put my faith, that can scarce move mountains, in some subtlemeans, if any man might devise them."

  "We cannot sit idle here," I said. "And for three long months there willbe no moving of armies in open field."

  "And in three months these dogs of false French doctors of Paris willhave tried and condemned the Maid. For my part, I ride with my handfulof spears to the Loire. Perchance there is yet some hope in the King."

  "Then I ride with you, granted your goodwill, for I must needs to Tours,and I have overmuch treasure in my wallet to ride alone."

  Indeed, I was now a rich man, more by luck than by valour; and though Isaid nought of it, I hoped that my long wooing might now come to a happyend.

  Barthelemy clasped hands gladly on that offer; and not to make a longtale, he and his men were my escort to Tours, and thence he rode to Sullyto see the King.

  I had no heart for glad surprises this time, but having sent on a letterto my master, by a King's messenger who rode from Compiegne ere we did, Iwas expected and welcomed by Elliot and my master, with all the joy thatmight be, after our long severance. And in my master's hands I laid mynewly gotten gear, and heard privily from him that, with his goodwill, Iand his daughter might wed so soon as she would.

  "For she is pining with grief, and prayer, and fasting, and marriage isthe best remede for such maladies."

  Of this grace I was right glad; yet Christmas went by and I dared notspeak, for Elliot seemed set on far other things than mirth, and was everand early in the churches, above all when service and prayer were offeredup for the Maid. She was very willing to hear all the tale of the longsiege, and her face, that was thin and wan, unlike her bright countenanceof old, flushed scarlet when she heard how we had bearded and shamed thenoble Duke of Burgundy, and what words Xaintrailles had spoken concerninghis nobleness.

  "There is one true knight left in France!" she said, and fell silentagain.

  Then, we being alone in the chamber, I tried to take her hand, but shedrew it away.

  "My dear love," she said, "I know all that is in your heart, and all mylove that is in mine you know well. But in mine there is no care forhappiness and joy, and to speak as plain as a maiden may, I have now nowill to marry. While the Sister of the Saints lies in duresse, or if shebe unjustly slain, I have set up my rest to abide unwed, for ever, as theBride of Heaven. And, if the last evil befall her, as well I deem itmust, I shall withdraw me from the world into the sisterhood of theClarisses."

  Had the great mid-beam of the roof fallen and smitten me, I could nothave been stricken more dumb and dead. My face showed what was in mymind belike, for, looking fearfully and tenderly on me, she took my handbetween hers and cherished it.

  "My love," I said at last, "you see in what case I am, that can scarcespeak for sorrow, after all I have ventured, and laboured, and won, foryou and for the Maid."

  "And I," she answered, "being but a girl, can venture and give nothingbut my poor prayers; and if she now perish, then I must pray the morecontinually for the good rest of her soul, and the forgiveness of herenemies and false friends."

  "Sure, she hath already the certain promise of Paradise, and even in thisworld her life is with the Saints. And if men slay her body, we need herprayers more than she needs ours."

  But Elliot said no word, being very wilful.

  "Consider what manner of friend the Maid is," I said, "who desiresnothing but joy and happy life to all whom she loves, as she loves you.Verily, I am right well assured that, could she see us in this hour, shewould bid you be happy with me, and not choose penance for love of her."

  "If she herself bids me do as you desire," said Elliot at last, "then Iwould not be disobedient to that Daughter of God."

  Here I took some comfort, for now a thought came into my mind.

  "But," said Elliot, "as we read of the rich man and Lazarus, between herand us is a great gulf fixed, and none may come from her to us, or fromus to her."

  "Elliot!" I said, "if either the Maid be delivered, or if she sends yousure and certain tidings under her own hand that she wills you to put offthis humour, will you then be persuaded, and make no more delay!"

  "Indeed, if either of these miracles befall, or both, right gladly will Iobey both you and her. But now her Saints, methinks, have left her,wearied by the wickedness of France."

  "I ask no more," I answered, "for, Elliot, either the Maid shall be free,or she shall send you this command, or you shall see my face no more."

  My purpose was now clear before me, even as I executed it, as shall beseen.

  "Indeed, if my vow must be kept, never may I again behold you; for oh! mylove, my heart would surely break in twain, being already weak with griefand fasting, and weary with prayer."

  Whereon she laid her kind arms about my neck, and, despite my manhood, Iwept no less than she.

  For Holy Writ says well, that hope deferred maketh the heart sick; andmine was sick unto death.

  Of my resolve I spoke no word more to Elliot, lest her counsel shouldchange when she knew the jeopardy whereinto I was firmly minded to go.And to my master I said no more than that I was minded to ride to theCourt, and for that end I turned into money a part of my treasure, formoney I should need more than arms.

  One matter in especial, which I deemed should stand me in the greateststead, I purchased for gold of the pottinger at Tours, the same who hadnursed me after my wound. This draught I bestowed in a silver phial,graven with strange signs, and I kept it ever close and secret, for itwas my chief mainstay.

  Secretly as I wrought, yet I deem that my master had some understandingof what was in my mind, though I told him nothing of the words between meand Elliot. For I was in no way without hope that, when the bitternessof her grief was overpast, Elliot might change her counsel. And again, Iwould not have him devise and dispute with her, as now, whereby I verywell knew that she would be but the more unhappy, and the more set ontaking her own wilful way. I therefore said no more than that it behovedme to see such captains as were about the King.

  Thereafter I bade them farewell, nor am I disposed to write concerningwhat passed at the parting of Elliot and me. For thrice ere now I hadleft her to pass into the mouth of war, but now I went into other peril,and with fainter hope.

  I did indeed ride to the Court, which was at Sully, and there I met, as Idesired, Barthelemy Barrette. He greeted me well, and was richly clad,and prosperous to behold. But it gave me greater joy that he spoke ofsome secret enterprise which should shortly be put in hand, when thespring came.

  "For I have good intelligence," he said, "that the Bastard of Orleanswill ride privily to Louviers with men-at-arms. Now Louviers, where LaHire lies in garrison, is but seven leagues from Rouen town, and whatsecret enterprise can he purpose there, save to break the cage and setfree the bird?"

  In this hope I tarried long, intending to ride with the spears ofBarthelemy, and placing my trust on two knights so good and skilled inwar as La Hire and the Bastard, the Maid's old companions in fight.

  But the days waxed long, and it was March the thirteenth ere we rodenorth, and already the doctors had begun to entrap the Maid with theirquestions, whereof there could be but one end.

  Without adventure very notable, riding much at night, through forests andbyways, we came to Louviers, where they received us joyfully. For it wasvery well known that the English were minded to besiege this town, thatbraved them so near t
heir gates at Rouen, and that they only held backtill they had slain the Maid. While she lived they dared not stiragainst us, knowing well that their men feared to follow their flag.

  Now, indeed, I was in good hope, but alas! there were long counsels ofthe captains, there was much harrying of Normandy, and some outlyingbands of English were trapped, and prisoners were taken. But of anassault on Rouen we heard no word, and, indeed, the adventure wasdesperate, though, for the honour of France, I marvel yet that it was notput to the touch.

  "There is nought to be done," Barthelemy said to me; "I cannot take Rouenwith a handful of spears, and the captains will not stir."

  "Then," said I, "farewell, for under the lilies I fight never again. Onechance remains, and I go to prove it."

  "Man, you are mad," he answered me. "What desperate peril are you mindedto run?"

  "I am minded to end this matter," I said. "My honour and my very lifestand upon it. Ask me not why, and swear that you will keep this secretfrom all men, if you would do the last service to me, and to Her, whom weboth love. I tell you that, help me or hinder me, I have no choice butthis; yet so much I will say to you, that I put myself in this jeopardyfor my honour and the honour of Scotland, and for my lady."

  "The days are past for the old chivalry," he said; "but no more words. Iswear by St. Ouen to keep your counsel, and if more I can do, withoutmere madness and risk out of all hope, I will do it."

  "This you can do without risk. Let me have the accoutrements of one ofthe Englishmen who lie in ward, and let me ride with your band atdaybreak to-morrow. It is easy to tell some feigned tale, when you rideback without me."

  "You will not ride into Rouen in English guise? They will straightwayhang you for a spy, and therein is little honour."

  "My purpose is some deal subtler," I said, with a laugh, "but let me keepmy own counsel."

  "So be it," said he, "a wilful man must have his way. And now I drink toyour better wisdom, and may you escape that rope on which your heartseems to be set!"

  I grasped his hand on it, and by point of day we were riding outseawards. We made an onslaught on a village, burned a house or twain,and seized certain wains of hay, so, in the confusion, I slipped forward,and rode alone into a little wood. There I clad myself in English guise,having carried the gear in a wallet on my saddle-bow, and so pushed on,till at nightfall I came to a certain little fishing-village. There,under cover of the dark, I covenanted with a fisherman to set me acrossthe Channel, I feigning to be a deserter who was fleeing from the Englisharmy, for fear of the Maid.

  "I would well that I had to carry all the sort of you," said the boat-master, for I had offered him my horse, and a great reward in money, partdown, and the other part to be paid when I set foot in England. Nor didhe make any tarrying, but, taking his nets on board, as if he would beabout his lawful business, set sail, with his two sons for a crew. Theeast wind served us to a miracle, and, after as fair a passage as mightbe, they landed me under cloud of night not far from the great port ofWinchelsea.

  That night I slept none, but walking fast and warily, under cover of afog, I fetched a compass about, and ended by walking into the town of Ryeby the road from the north. Here I went straight to the best inn of theplace, and calling aloud for breakfast, I bade the drawer bring mine hostto me instantly. For, at Louviers, we were so well served by spies, thecountry siding with us rather than with the English, that I knew how acompany of the Earl of Warwick's men was looked for in Winchelsea to sailwhen they had a fair wind for Rouen.

  Mine host came to me in a servile English fashion, and asked me what Iwould?

  "First, a horse," said I, "for mine dropped dead last night, ten mileshence on the north road, in your marshes, God damn them, and you may seeby my rusty spur and miry boot that I have walked far. Here," I cried,pulling off my boots, and flinging them down on the rushes of the floor,"bid one of your varlets clean them! Next, breakfast, and a pot of yourale; and then I shall see what manner of horses you keep, for I mustneeds ride to Winchelsea."

  "You would join the men under the banner of Sir Thomas Grey of Falloden,I make no doubt?" he answered. "Your speech smacks of the Northernparts, and the good knight comes from no long way south of the border.His men rode through our town but few days agone."

  "And me they left behind on the way," I answered, "so evil is my luck inhorse-flesh. But for this blessed wind out of the east that hindersthem, my honour were undone."

  My tale was not too hard of belief, and before noon I was on my way toWinchelsea, a stout nag enough between my legs.

  The first man-at-arms whom I met I hailed, bidding him lead me straightto Sir Thomas Grey of Falloden. "What, you would take service?" heasked, in a Cumberland burr that I knew well, for indeed it came readyenough on my own tongue.

  "Yea, by St. Cuthbert," I answered, "for on the Marches nothing stirs;moreover, I have slain a man, and fled my own country."

  With that he bade God damn his soul if I were not a good fellow, and soled me straight to the lodgings of the knight under whose colours heserved. To him I told the same tale, adding that I had heard late of hislevying of his men, otherwise I had ridden to join him at his settingforth.

  "You have seen war?" he asked.

  "Only a Warden's raid or twain, on the moss-trooping Scots of Liddesdale.Branxholme I have seen in a blaze, and have faced fire at the Castle ofthe Hermitage."

  "You speak the tongue of the Northern parts," he said; "are you noble?"

  "A poor cousin of the Storeys of Netherby," I answered, which was trueenough; and when he questioned me about my kin, I showed him that I knewevery name and scutcheon of the line, my mother having instructed me inall such lore of her family. {38}

  "And wherefore come you here alone, and in such plight?"

  "By reason of a sword-stroke at Stainishawbank Fair," I answered boldly.

  "Faith, then, I see no cause why, as your will is so good, you should notsoon have your bellyful of sword-strokes. For, when once we have burnedthat limb of the devil, the Puzel" (for so the English call the Maid),"we shall shortly drive these forsworn dogs, the French, back beyond theLoire."

  I felt my face reddening at these ill words, so I stooped, as if to clearmy spur of mire.

  "Shortly shall she taste the tar-barrel," I answered, whereat he sworeand laughed; then, calling a clerk, bade him write my indenture, as isthe English manner. Thus, thanks to my northern English tongue, forwhich I was sore beaten by the other boys when I was a boy myself, beholdme a man-at-arms of King Henry, and so much of my enterprise wasachieved.

  I make no boast of valour, and indeed I greatly feared for my neck, bothnow and later. For my risk was that some one of the men-at-arms inRouen, whither we were bound, should have seen my face either at Orleans,at Paris (where I was unhelmeted), or in the taking of the Bastille atCompiegne. Yet my visor was down, both at Orleans and Compiegne, and ofthose few who marked me in girl's gear in Paris none might chance to meetme at Rouen, or to remember me in changed garments. So I put a bold browon it, for better might not be. None cursed the Puzel more loudly thanI, and, without feigning, none longed so sorely as I for a fair wind toFrance, wherefore I was ever going about Winchelsea with my head in theair, gazing at the weather-cocks. And, as fortune would have it, thewind went about, and we on board, and with no long delay were at Rouentown.