by G. A. Henty
“I know not, Sir Ralph,” Albert said. “They were given to us by Mynheer Van Voorden, and he charged us not to open them until we arrived here.”
“It is a mystery, then!” Aline exclaimed. “Let us send for them and open them at once. I am glad one of the boxes was not given to me to take care of, for I am afraid I should never have had the patience to wait until I arrived here before opening it.”
Sir Ralph ordered the boxes to be brought in. “They are light enough,” he said, “and I should judge from their weight that they contain papers of some sort. Open yours first, Albert.”
They were fastened by three skeins of silk, the Fleming's seal being affixed to the knots.
“Cut them, Albert!” Aline exclaimed, as her brother proceeded to break the seals and untie the knots.
“No, no,” he said; “silk is not to be picked up on the wayside, and it will be little trouble to undo them.”
Indeed, in a minute he had unfastened the knots and raised the lid. At the top lay a piece of paper, on which was written, A slight testimony of gratitude for inestimable services rendered to yours gratefully, John Van Voorden. Underneath was a roll of parchment.
“What have we here?” Sir Ralph said. Albert ran his eye over the crabbed black-letter writing, and gave an exclamation of surprise.
“Now, then, Albert,” Aline exclaimed, impatiently, “don't keep it all to yourself. We are burning to know what it is all about!”
Albert made no reply, but continued to read. “It is an assignment to me,” he said, at last, in a low and agitated voice, “of the lands, castle, messuages, tenements, etc., of Cliffe.”
Sir Ralph leapt to his feet. “A princely gift, Albert! The lands are four times as large as mine, and as I have heard, a fair castle has been rising there for months past. Art sure that there is no mistake?”
“There can be no mistake in the deed, father; but can I accept such a gift at the hands of the Fleming?”
“That you can, my son, and without any hesitation. Van Voorden is known to be the richest Fleming in England. He has on various occasions lent vast sums to the king and council, and noble as the gift is, it is one that he can doubtless well afford. You have saved the lives of himself, his wife, and daughter, and he may well feel grateful. He told me when he gave you that suit of armour that it was no recognition of what he felt he owed you, and that he hoped in the future to discharge the debt more worthily. Now, Edgar, let us see what is in your box.”
Edgar had been quietly untying the knots of the silk, and the box was already open. The words on the top were similar to those in Albert's box.
“Please read it, Albert,” he said, handing over the parchment. “You can decipher the characters better than I can.” Albert read it through to himself.
“'Tis similar to mine,” he said, “and assigns you the land, manors, the castle, and all rights and privileges thereto appertaining of the hundred of Hoo.”
“Bravo, bravo!” Sir Ralph exclaimed. “Another noble gift, and fully equal to that of Albert. This Fleming is a very prince. I congratulate you, Edgar, with all my heart. I had heard that Sir John Evesham had sold his estates, which comprise the whole hundred of Hoo, a year since, in order to live at Court, but none seemed to know who was the purchaser. I heard, too, that a large number of men had been employed in building a castle on the heights looking down the Medway past Upnor to Chatham. Why, lads, if you ever win to the rank of knight banneret, you will have land enough to support the dignity, and to take the field with two or three knights and a fair following of men-at-arms in your train. I have gained good sums for the ransom of prisoners, but I never had the luck to save the life of a Flemish merchant and his family.”
“It seems well-nigh impossible,” Edgar said.
“You must remember, Edgar, that these rich Flemings are the bankers of half the princes in Europe. You, who have been in their houses, know that they live in comfort and luxury such as none of our nobles possess. They could find the money for a king's ransom, or pay beforehand the taxes of a country. If a king can grant estates like these to his favourites, and not only the king, but many of our nobles can do so, it is not strange that one of the richest of these Flemings should make such gifts to those who have saved his life without feeling that he has in any way overpaid the service.”
“I must be riding on now,” Edgar said, “to carry this wonderful news to my father.”
While they had been dining, Hal Carter had been getting a hearty meal in the kitchen, where he and Albert's two retainers were surrounded by all the men-at-arms, who were anxious to hear the details of the expedition. When Edgar sent down for his horse, Sir Ralph went down with him to the courtyard, and as Hal brought the horses round, the old knight put his hand upon his shoulder.
“My brave fellow,” he said, “I have heard how you stood with your master across my son's body, and how doughtily you fought. Do not forget that I am your debtor, but for the present I can only say that I thank you for the part you played.”
“It would have been strange, indeed, Sir Ralph, had I not hit my hardest, for my own life depended upon it, and it was not like that I should draw back a foot when Sir Albert, whom I love only next to my master, was lying there; but, indeed, it was a right merry fight, the only one that came up to my expectations of what a stiffly fought melee would be. I would not have missed it for anything.”
CHAPTER XIX.
WELL SETTLED
“Well, well, well,” Mr. Ormskirk exclaimed when Edgar brought the story of all that had happened since he had been away to an end, “indeed you surprise me. I know that many knights fit out parties and go to the wars, not so much for honour and glory as for the spoils and ransoms they may gain, and that after Crecy and Poictiers, there was not a single soldier but came back laden with booty and with rich jewels, gold chains, and costly armour, gathered from the host of French nobles who fell on those fields; while knights who were fortunate enough to capture counts, earls, or princes, gained ransoms that enabled them to purchase estates, and live without occasion to go further to the wars during their lives. But I never thought that you would benefit by such a chance. As it is to my mind more honourable to save life than to take it, I rejoice that you have come to your fortune, not by the slaying of enemies, but by the saving the lives of a man, his wife, and daughter, who are rich enough to reward you.
“Assuredly, if a man like Mynheer Van Voorden had fallen into the hands of the Count of Flanders, the latter would have extracted from him, as the price of his freedom, a sum many times larger than that which he has expended on the purchase of these two estates, and the building of the castles. Well, Edgar, I congratulate you heartily. You can now ride to the wars when the king's banner is spread to the winds, and do your duty to your country, but there will be no occasion for you to become a mere knight adventurer—a class I detest, ever ready to sell their swords to the highest bidder, and to kill men, against whom they have no cause of complaint, as indifferently as a butcher would strike down a bullock with a pole-axe.
“Between these men and those who fight simply in the wars of their own country, the gulf is a wide one, as wide as that betwixt a faithful house- dog and a roving wolf. When are you going to receive your new acquisition, or are you intending to ride first to London to thank the Fleming for his noble gift?”
“Assuredly, we should have first ridden to London, father, but we each found in the bottom of our boxes a short letter which we had at first overlooked. The letters were the same, save for our names. Mine ran:—
“'Dear Sir Edgar,
“'It has given me very great pleasure to prepare this little surprise for you. I pray you, do not mar it in any way by returning me thanks. The gift is as naught in comparison with the service rendered. I am proceeding to the North to-morrow on business with Earl Percy, and shall not return for some weeks. When we meet next, I pray you, let there be no word of thanks concerning this affair, for I consider myself still greatly your debtor. You will fin
d an agent of mine at your castle. He has been there some time, has made the acquaintance of all the vassals and others, and will introduce you to them as their lord. He has my instructions either to remain there to manage your affairs for six months, or for any less time you may choose. But methinks you will do well to keep him for that time, as he is a good man of business, and you will need such an one until you have mastered all the details, and can take matters entirely in your own hands.'
“So you see, father, we shall be free to start to-morrow. Sir Ralph, Lady De Courcy, and Mistress Aline will ride with us, and I trust that you will come also. We shall first go to Cliffe, which will be on our road, and, indeed, I believe that for some distance Albert's lands join mine. Then we shall go on to my castle—it sounds absurd, doesn't it, father?—and doubtless we shall be able to stay in Hoo, or if not, 'tis but two or three miles to Stroud, where we are sure to find good lodging.”
“I should like to ride with you, Edgar, but it is years since I have bestridden a horse.”
“We shall ride but slowly, father, for Dame De Courcy loves not for her palfrey to go beyond a walk. If you like you could bestride Hal Carter's horse, which is a strong and steady animal, and he can walk alongside, so as to be ready to catch the rein if it be needed. He will be very glad to go, for the honest fellow is in the highest delight at the news of my good fortune.”
“I think that I could do that, Edgar, yet I will not go by Cliffe, but straight to Hoo. I can then travel as I like, and shall not have to join in talk with Dame De Courcy nor the others, nor feel that my bad horsemanship makes me a jest.”
“Very well, father, perhaps that would be the pleasantest way for you.”
“If I get there before you, Edgar, I shall stop at a tavern in the main street of Hoo. There is sure to be one there; and will rest until you come along. If Hal Carter learns that you have passed through before my arrival, I will come straight on to the castle.”
Accordingly, early the next morning, Mr. Ormskirk started with Hal, and Edgar, after seeing them fairly on their way, rode over to the De Courcys'. All were in readiness for the start.
“Is not Mr. Ormskirk coming with us?” Dame De Courcy asked. “Recluse though he is, I thought he would surely tear himself from his books on such an occasion.”
“He has done so, dame, and is already on the road to Hoo, under the charge of Hal Carter. 'Tis so many years since he has bestridden a horse that he said that he should be ill at ease riding with such a party, and that he would therefore go on quietly, with Hal walking beside him, and would join us when we came to Hoo.”
They mounted at once. Dame De Courcy rode on a pillion behind Sir Ralph. Aline bestrode—for side-saddles had not yet come into use—her own pony. Two retainers followed, one leading a sumpter horse, with two panniers well filled with provisions and wine, together with some women's gear, in case the weather should turn bad, and a change be required at the halting- place for the night. They started briskly, and Edgar was glad that his father had gone on alone; the pace would have sorely discomposed him. Alternately walking and going at a canter they arrived in three hours at Cliffe.
“There is your castle, Albert!” Aline exclaimed. “It seems well-nigh, if not quite, finished, and is strongly posted on that hill, overlooking the whole country from Dartford to Sheerness. You will need a chatelaine before long, brother mine.”
Albert laughed, but coloured a little.
“Time enough to think of that, Aline.”
“Nay, I am in earnest. Many are betrothed, if not married, long before they attain your age.”
“I may say the same to you, Aline. 'Tis the fashion now for girls to be betrothed between twelve and fourteen. I have been wandering about and fighting and have had no time to think of love-making.”
Aline shrugged her shoulders. “You had better ask Sir Ralph and my mother for their views about me, Albert. It is not for a maid to make her own marriage, but a valiant knight like yourself can manage your own affairs, Methought perhaps that you would have to tell us that the Fleming's fair daughter was to assist you in the management of the castle that her father has given you.”
“Joanna Van Voorden!” Albert exclaimed, indignantly, while Edgar burst into laughter; “why, she is well-nigh as big as her mother already, and promises to be far bigger. Thank you, Aline; if the castle and estate had been offered me on the condition that I married her, I would have had none of them.”
“Well, sir, shall I make another guess?” Aline asked, mischievously.
“No, no, Aline,” Albert said, hastily. “No more guessing, if you please.”
They had by this time approached the castle. “Look, father!” Aline exclaimed, clapping her hands; “they must have been on the watch for us. See! they are raising a flag on that staff on the turret, and see, there are your arms blazoned on it.”
“'Tis a goodly castle for its size,” the knight said, as he drew rein and turned his horse so that his dame might get a better view of it. “There is a dry moat, which is lined with stonework. The walls are not very high, but they are well defended by those flanking towers, and the place could stand any sudden assault. I should say that it was about the same strength as our own. So far as I can see, the other arrangements are quite different. There is no keep, and it seems to me that the house is built rather for comfort than for defence; the windows are large, and it looks more like a Flemish house built within a castle wall than an English place of strength. Now let us ride on,” and they pressed their horses forward. The gates were thrown open when they approached within a hundred yards; the drawbridge over the moat had been already lowered.
“Ride you first, Albert,” Sir Ralph said; “you are lord of the place.”
As they came to the head of the drawbridge, a middle-aged man of grave aspect, dressed in the garb of a citizen, appeared at the gate, and six men-at-arms, in steel caps and body armour, armed with pike and sword, drew up behind him.
The man bowed deeply to Albert. “Welcome to Cliffe Castle, sir knight,” he said. “I am Nicholas Hocht, and have, by the orders of my master, Mynheer Van Voorden, been here for the last year to superintend the building of this castle, and in carrying out his other commands respecting it, with further orders to remain here, should you desire it, for the further space of six months as your steward. I received a message from him yesterday, saying that possibly you would be here to-day, and I must, therefore, have everything in readiness for you. The warning was somewhat short, but I have done my best, and I trust that you will pardon any shortcomings.”
“I am much beholden to you, Master Hocht,” Albert said. “You have done well, indeed, for a fairer castle and one better placed no one could desire.”
The men-at-arms saluted as he rode on. Entering the gate, they were able to see the house itself. It was, as Sir Ralph had said, rather a Flemish house than a knightly castle; the lower range of windows were small and heavily barred, but above there were large casements, pointed roofs, and projecting gables. It had an air of comfort and brightness. On the top of the broad steps leading to the great door were four retainers, all similarly attired in doublets of russet cloth and orange hose. As soon as the party alighted they ascended the steps, led by the steward. When they entered the great hall a general exclamation of surprise broke from them.
They had expected to see bare walls and every sign of the place having only just left the builders' hands; instead of this everything was complete, the massive oak beams and panels of the ceilings were varnished, the walls were wainscoted, the oak floor highly polished; Eastern rugs lay here and there upon it, carved benches ran along the sides, and a large banqueting table stood in the centre; rich curtains hung by the window, and a huge fire was piled on the hearth.
“Why, this is a work of enchantment, Master Hocht,” Dame Agatha said.
“I have had but little to do with it, lady,” the steward replied. “The woodwork was all made in London, to my master's orders, and I had but to superintend its being pl
aced in position.”
He led them from room to room, their surprise and delight continually increasing; all were furnished richly in the Flemish style with cabinets, tables, settees, and armoires. There were hangings to the windows and rugs on the floors; everything was ready for habitation, the linen presses were full of table-cloths and napkins and sheets. The beds were ready for sleeping in, with their great bags of soft feathers, their thick blankets and silken coverlets. These more than anything else excited the dame's admiration. Never had she seen beds approaching these in softness and daintiness.
“With the exception of the furniture in the hall,” Master Hocht explained, “everything has come direct from Flanders, having been selected by Mynheer Van Voorden himself, and sent by sea to Gravesend.”
After having inspected the whole of the house they returned to the hall. Here the table had been spread. A silver skewer, to act as a fork, an article then unknown in England, was placed before each, and an admirable repast was served, the steward himself officiating as carver, while the four servitors carried the platters, which were of fine Flemish ware, to the guests. Albert had begged his father to take the head of the table, but the latter refused positively. He sat on one side of his son and his dame on the other. Fish of several kinds, meats, and poultry were served. All cut up their meat with their daggers, and carried it to their mouths on the point of the skewer.
