CHAPTER X
It was the afternoon of this same day in which Walter Skinner hadventured into the wilds of the Isle of Axholme, there to try to catchHugo and Humphrey. At the same time Robert Sadler was galloping on hisway from the town of Chester to the castle, eager to meet the troop,for his journey was now almost accomplished. Sir Thomas De Lany hadpromised him his reward,--a certain sum of money; he had also promisedthe troop he had borrowed to help him a reward in addition to the sumhe was to pay to their master, even a share of the plunder of thecastle. Robert Sadler knew this, and he had quite decided that thepackage he carried would properly fall to him when her ladyship shouldbe left without a son and without treasure. He therefore had bestowedit carefully out of sight of the king's spies and their borrowed troop,whom he was now expecting to meet. He had said nothing about thepresence of Hugo at the castle and his great resemblance to Josceline;for he was of a mind to deliver up Hugo and keep back Josceline, since,by so doing, he might have hope of winning another reward from the kingin addition to the one he should receive from Sir Thomas.
"It is a long head that I have," he said to himself with pride. "Andthese knave spies shall find it not so easy to come to the bottom of mymind. They think I am but Irish, and so to be despised. And what bethey but English? They shall find I will know how to have the better ofthem."
The sun was within half an hour of setting when he drew rein at the oakwhich was the scene of their appointed meeting. If he had been eager,the others had been no less so, and at once Sir Thomas and one of hisaids advanced to meet him, while, at a short distance, halted the troopof men-at-arms.
"Have ye the troop? And is all well?" asked Robert Sadler, his widemouth stretched in a treacherous smile.
"Yea," responded Sir Thomas.
"Walter Skinner and Richard Wood--do they still keep watch from thetree?" asked Robert Sadler, smiling still more widely.
"Why, what is that to thee?" demanded Sir Thomas, haughtily. "It is wewho do the king's business. Thou doest but ours."
"Ay," answered Robert Sadler, with feigned humility; "I do but yours."
"Thou sayest well. But think not to pry into the king's business asthou dost into the affairs at the castle. From thine own showing thoumust have been a great meddler there."
"And how could I have done thy business there if I had not meddled, asthou callst it?"
"I say not that thou couldst," returned Sir Thomas. "I do but warn theenot to meddle with us. And now, where is the package?"
"Package? Package?" mumbled Robert Sadler, in apparent bewilderment.
"The package, sirrah, thou wert to deliver from Chester to herladyship. Hast forgotten the purpose of thy journey?"
"Oh, ay, the package!" returned Robert Sadler, uneasily. "I am like tobe berated by her ladyship for returning without it."
"We would not have thee so berated," said the aid, speaking for thefirst time. "And so I come to thine help." And he reached beneath theshort cloak of Robert Sadler and drew forth the package.
"I pray thee, return it to me," said Robert Sadler, humbly. "Without itI am undone."
"Do thou but parley as thou saidst with the warder on the bridge, andthou wilt find there will be no upbraiding from her ladyship to causethee alarm," returned the aid.
"And when wilt thou pay me the sum of money?" asked Robert Sadler,anxiously, not liking either his reception or his subsequent treatmentat the hands of Sir Thomas's aid.
"And what is that to thee?" demanded Sir Thomas, fiercely. "If Iwithhold the sum altogether it is no more than what hath been done bymightier men than I. Do thou parley on the bridge as thou saidst, orthy head shall answer for it. Ride on now before us. We will await ouropportunity in the edge of the wood."
"Thou didst not speak so to me," said the traitor, "when thou wouldsthave me do this deed. It was then, 'Good Robert Sadler,' and 'I willreward thee well.' Naught didst thou say of my head answering myfailure to obey thy will." Then he rode on as he had been commanded.
He now saw that he had betrayed her ladyship and her son for naught,and his dejection thereat was plainly visible. But presently he satupright in triumph as he remembered his plan, which he had for themoment forgotten,--to betray Hugo into their hands and keep backJosceline for himself to deliver to the king. How he was to accomplishthis difficult thing he did not know, but, in his ignorance, heimagined it might easily be done.
Sir Thomas and his aid were watching him. "The knave meaneth to play usfalse," observed the aid. "See how he sitteth and rideth in triumph."
"His head answereth for it if he doth," returned Sir Thomas, fiercely.
And now they had all arrived at the edge of the wood and the sun wasdown. "Set forward across the open, sirrah," commanded Sir Thomas, "andsee that thou fail not in thine office."
The traitor ground his teeth in rage, but outwardly he was calm as,putting his horse to the trot, he advanced toward the great gate andwound his horn. "Now may the old warder show more than his usualcaution," said Robert Sadler. "My head is likely to fall whether we getin or whether we be kept out. And it were pleasant to see thesevillains foiled in their desires." The old warder, obeying theinstructions of William Lorimer, beyond keeping the traitor waiting aquarter of an hour, by which delay the darkness desired by WilliamLorimer drew so much the nearer, having answered the summons, let downthe bridge with unaccustomed alacrity of motion. In accordance with thesame instructions, he kept his back to the direction from which thetroop were expected to come, and he seemed quite as ready to parleyafter the bridge was down as even Sir Thomas could have desired.
"The warder groweth doltish," observed Sir Thomas, as he prepared toset forward.
"Mayhap," answered the aid.
"What meanest thou by 'mayhap'?" demanded Sir Thomas.
But by this time the whole troop were in motion and making a rush forthe bridge. They gained it; they were across it, sweeping Robert Sadlerbefore them, and within the walls before the sluggish old warder hadseemed to see what was happening. They were well across the outer courtbefore they noticed the strange air of emptiness that seemed to havefallen on the place. They stormed into the inner court; and here, too,all was silence. And then they turned on Robert Sadler. "Art thou adouble traitor?" demanded Sir Thomas.
But the vacant astonishment of Robert Sadler's face gave true answer.
"He hath been made a dupe," said the aid. "He hath been sent to Chesterthat the castle might be rid of him."
"Nay," returned Sir Thomas. "Thou art ever unduly suspicious." Thenturning to Robert Sadler he said: "Where be the men-at-arms of thecastle? Where do they hide themselves because of us? And where bidethher ladyship and her son?" Then catching sight of the open door of thestairway tower, without awaiting Robert Sadler's reply, he led the waythither and up the stair, dragging the reluctant Robert Sadler withhim, and was followed by the troop.
The ladies' bower was empty. The treasure from the chests was alsogone. Down the troop rushed violently, and into the great hall and outagain. Everywhere silence. Darkness had now fallen, and with torchesthe troop of men-at-arms, led by Sir Thomas and his aid, ran about theinner court, peering into the empty stables and offices. Presently toRobert Sadler the light of a torch revealed the postern gate ajar."They must have fled!" he cried. "See!" and he pointed to the posterngate.
"Mount and follow!" commanded Sir Thomas.
"Nay, not in the darkness," objected the aid. "Wait for the moon torise."
"Ay, wait!" exclaimed Sir Thomas, impatiently. "I believe thou wastborn with that word in thy mouth. Wouldst have them get a better startof us than they have? Dost know that they did leave the treasure chestsempty, and then dost thou counsel us to wait on the tardy moon? 'Twasrich treasure they took, or report speaketh false. And every momentmaketh our chance to seize it smaller."
Every man was now astride his horse, and Sir Thomas, his hand on RobertSadler's bridle, dashed ahead. The rest followed, crowding through thenarrow gate and out into the darkness on the narrow bridge. Here
andthere a torch gleamed, and its reflection shone full in the glassywater of the ditch. Here was no shadowy depth of a ravine, but a broadplain,--a watery plain, into which the heavily weighted horses andriders sank, rising to cry for help and catch at straws. The cries ofthe drowning only hurried those behind to the rescue, who, supposingtheir fellows in advance to be assailed, rushed headlong on to the samefate. The torches were extinguished, and none knew which way to turn toescape. So perished the whole troop, Robert Sadler going down in thegrasp of Sir Thomas De Lany.
None knew which way to turn to escape]
Across the moat, ready mounted to ride, were William Lorimer and thefew men-at-arms left him by Lady De Aldithely on her departure. "So mayit be with all traitors and thieves," said he. "And now fare wesouthward to France and our lord. We need not the light of the moon toshow us our path."
The clatter of their horses' hoofs soon died away, and when the moonrose it shone down on the deserted castle, and on the shining water ofthe moat near the postern, but it shone not on horse or rider living ordead. All night William Lorimer and his little troop rode, notcautiously and shrinkingly, but boldly; and they went into camp in theearly morning in Sherwood Forest, more miles away from home than Hugoand Humphrey had covered in all their journeying.
And in the swamp Walter Skinner, who had finally extricated himselffrom the mire, floundered about from bog to pool, and from pool to bog,vowing vengeance on Humphrey, while Hugo and the faithful serving-man,avoiding Gainsborough, pushed on toward Lincoln.
"I did dream of being taken by the constable," said Humphrey, "whichbetokeneth want of wit. I know not what were better to do. What sayestthou?" And he looked questioningly at Hugo.
The boy smiled. He could not help wondering if this were not the firsttime in his life that Humphrey had acknowledged himself at a loss whatto do. A dream had caused him to doubt his own possession of sufficientwit for all purposes,--something which no amount of argument could haveaccomplished. But to-day Hugo felt no contempt for him. He smiled onlyat the one weakness which was a foil to Humphrey's many excellentqualities. And he said pleasantly, "Why, how now, Humphrey? Thou dostneed another dream to restore thy courage."
Humphrey eyed him doubtfully. "Dost think so, lad?" he said. "Mayhapthou art right. But I go not in the lead till I have it. Wit is not thesame at all times. Perchance something hath damaged mine for the time.Do thou lead till I recover it; for thou art no more a stranger to meas when we started."
"Nor thou to me, good Humphrey," replied Hugo, with an affectionatesmile. "And I say, let us on with all courage to Lincoln."
"And why, lad?" asked Humphrey. "Because thou wouldst see the place,even as I would see Ferrybridge a while back?"
"Partly," laughed Hugo. "And partly because it lieth very well in ourway."
"Hast ever been there?" asked Humphrey, anxiously.
"Nay, but mine uncle, the prior, hath often been. And I know the placeby report. We come to it by the north. Came we from the south, we couldsee it some twenty miles off, because the country lieth flat around it,and the city is set on a hill. Why, surely thou dost know the place. Itwas a city under the Danes."
"Yea, I have heard of it from my grandsire," acknowledged Humphrey;"but I know not if king's men be like to flourish there. For us that isthe principal thing."
Hugo laughed. "Ah, my brave Humphrey," he said, "why shouldst thou fearking's men? Thou who canst lift up a king's man by the shoulders andplant him like a rush in the miry pool!"
At this Humphrey smiled slightly himself. "Well, lad," he saidpresently, "I will not gainsay thee. Go we to Lincoln, and may goodcome of it. But we stay not long?"
"Why, that," answered Hugo, "is what no man can tell. We must becautious."
"Ay, lad," assented Humphrey, approvingly.
"Thou knowest of Bishop Hugh of Avalon?" inquired Hugo, chatting ofwhatever came to his mind in the hope to bring back Humphrey'sconfidence in himself.
"Nay, lad," returned the serving-man. "I know no more of bishops thanthou of hedgehogs and other creatures of the wood."
"This was a bishop, I have heard mine uncle say, that loved the birds.He hath now been nine years dead, and another man is, in his stead,bishop of Lincoln. But in his time he had many feathered pets, and onea swan, so hath mine uncle said. And also, he never feared to face theking."
"Sayest thou so, lad?" responded Humphrey, with some degree ofinterest. "Mayhap his spirit still may linger in the place, and soking's men not flourish there. We will on to see."
So in due time they came to the town, and entered through its old Romangate, and, looking down the long hill on the top of which they stood,saw the city of Lincoln, which, when William the Conqueror came, hadeleven hundred and fifty houses.
"It is a great place," remarked Humphrey, "and maketh a goodly show."
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