CHAPTER VIII
As Norman of Torn rode out from the castle of De Stutevill, FatherClaude dismounted from his sleek donkey within the ballium of Torn. Theaustere stronghold, notwithstanding its repellent exterior and unsavoryreputation, always extended a warm welcome to the kindly, genial priest;not alone because of the deep friendship which the master of Torn feltfor the good father, but through the personal charm, and lovableness ofthe holy man's nature, which shone alike on saint and sinner.
It was doubtless due to his unremitting labors with the youthful Norman,during the period that the boy's character was most amenable to strongimpressions, that the policy of the mighty outlaw was in many respectspure and lofty. It was this same influence, though, which won for FatherClaude his only enemy in Torn; the little, grim, gray, old man whosesole aim in life seemed to have been to smother every finer instinct ofchivalry and manhood in the boy, to whose training he had devoted thepast nineteen years of his life.
As Father Claude climbed down from his donkey--fat people do not"dismount"--a half dozen young squires ran forward to assist him, and tolead the animal to the stables.
The good priest called each of his willing helpers by name, asking aquestion here, passing a merry joke there with the ease and familiaritythat bespoke mutual affection and old acquaintance.
As he passed in through the great gate, the men-at-arms threw himlaughing, though respectful, welcomes and within the great court,beautified with smooth lawn, beds of gorgeous plants, fountains, statuesand small shrubs and bushes, he came upon the giant, Red Shandy, now theprincipal lieutenant of Norman of Torn.
"Good morrow, Saint Claude!" cried the burly ruffian. "Hast come to saveour souls, or damn us? What manner of sacrilege have we committed now,or have we merited the blessings of Holy Church? Dost come to scold, orpraise?"
"Neither, thou unregenerate villain," cried the priest, laughing."Though methinks ye merit chiding for the grievous poor courtesy withwhich thou didst treat the great Bishop of Norwich the past week."
"Tut, tut, Father," replied Red Shandy. "We did but aid him to adheremore closely to the injunctions and precepts of Him whose servant anddisciple he claims to be. Were it not better for an Archbishop of HisChurch to walk in humility and poverty among His people, than to be eversurrounded with the temptations of fine clothing, jewels and much gold,to say nothing of two sumpter beasts heavy laden with runlets of wine?"
"I warrant his temptations were less by at least as many runlets ofwine as may be borne by two sumpter beasts when thou, red robber, hadfinished with him," exclaimed Father Claude.
"Yes, Father," laughed the great fellow, "for the sake of Holy Church, Idid indeed confiscate that temptation completely, and if you must needshave proof in order to absolve me from my sins, come with me now and youshall sample the excellent discrimination which the Bishop of Norwichdisplays in the selection of his temptations."
"They tell me you left the great man quite destitute of finery, RedShandy," continued Father Claude, as he locked his arm in that of theoutlaw and proceeded toward the castle.
"One garment was all that Norman of Torn would permit him, and as thesun was hot overhead, he selected for the Bishop a bassinet for thatsingle article of apparel, to protect his tonsured pate from the rays ofold sol. Then, fearing that it might be stolen from him by some vandalsof the road, he had One Eye Kanty rivet it at each side of the gorget sothat it could not be removed by other than a smithy, and thus, strappedface to tail upon a donkey, he sent the great Bishop of Norwich rattlingdown the dusty road with his head, at least, protected from the idlegaze of whomsoever he might chance to meet. Forty stripes he gave toeach of the Bishop's retinue for being abroad in bad company; but come,here we are where you shall have the wine as proof of my tale."
As the two sat sipping the Bishop's good Canary, the little old man ofTorn entered. He spoke to Father Claude in a surly tone, asking him ifhe knew aught of the whereabouts of Norman of Torn.
"We have seen nothing of him since, some three days gone, he rode out inthe direction of your cottage," he concluded.
"Why, yes," said the priest, "I saw him that day. He had an adventurewith several knights from the castle of Peter of Colfax, from whom herescued a damsel whom I suspect from the trappings of her palfrey to beof the house of Montfort. Together they rode north, but thy son didnot say whither or for what purpose. His only remark, as he donned hisarmor, while the girl waited without, was that I should now behold thefalcon guarding the dove. Hast he not returned?"
"No," said the old man, "and doubtless his adventure is of a naturein line with thy puerile and effeminate teachings. Had he followed mytraining, without thy accurst priestly interference, he had made aniron-barred nest in Torn for many of the doves of thy damned Englishnobility. An' thou leave him not alone, he will soon be seeking servicein the household of the King."
"Where, perchance, he might be more at home than here," said the priestquietly.
"Why say you that?" snapped the little old man, eyeing Father Claudenarrowly.
"Oh," laughed the priest, "because he whose power and mien be even morekingly than the King's would rightly grace the royal palace," but he hadnot failed to note the perturbation his remark had caused, nor did hisoff-hand reply entirely deceive the old man.
At this juncture, a squire entered to say that Shandy's presence wasrequired at the gates, and that worthy, with a sorrowing and regretfulglance at the unemptied flagon, left the room.
For a few moments, the two men sat in meditative silence, which waspresently broken by the old man of Torn.
"Priest," he said, "thy ways with my son are, as you know, not to myliking. It were needless that he should have wasted so much precioustime from swordplay to learn the useless art of letters. Of what benefitmay a knowledge of Latin be to one whose doom looms large before him. Itmay be years and again it may be but months, but as sure as there be adevil in hell, Norman of Torn will swing from a king's gibbet. And thouknowst it, and he too, as well as I. The things which thou hast taughthim be above his station, and the hopes and ambitions they inspire willbut make his end the bitterer for him. Of late I have noted that herides upon the highway with less enthusiasm than was his wont, but hehas gone too far ever to go back now; nor is there where to go back to.What has he ever been other than outcast and outlaw? What hopes couldyou have engendered in his breast greater than to be hated and fearedamong his blood enemies?"
"I knowst not thy reasons, old man," replied the priest, "for devotingthy life to the ruining of his, and what I guess at be such as I darenot voice; but let us understand each other once and for all. For allthou dost and hast done to blight and curse the nobleness of his nature,I have done and shall continue to do all in my power to controvert. Asthou hast been his bad angel, so shall I try to be his good angel, andwhen all is said and done and Norman of Torn swings from the King'sgibbet, as I only too well fear he must, there will be more to mourn hisloss than there be to curse him.
"His friends are from the ranks of the lowly, but so too were thefriends and followers of our Dear Lord Jesus; so that shall be moregreatly to his honor than had he preyed upon the already unfortunate.
"Women have never been his prey; that also will be spoken of to hishonor when he is gone, and that he has been cruel to men will beforgotten in the greater glory of his mercy to the weak.
"Whatever be thy object: whether revenge or the natural bent of a crueland degraded mind, I know not; but if any be curst because of the Outlawof Torn, it will be thou--I had almost said, unnatural father; but I donot believe a single drop of thy debased blood flows in the veins of himthou callest son."
The grim old man of Torn had sat motionless throughout this indictment,his face, somewhat pale, was drawn into lines of malevolent hatred andrage, but he permitted Father Claude to finish without interruption.
"Thou hast made thyself and thy opinions quite clear," he said bitterly,"but I be glad to know just how thou standeth. In the past there hasbeen peace between us, thoug
h no love; now let us both understandthat it be war and hate. My life work is cut out for me. Others, likethyself, have stood in my path, yet today I am here, but where are they?Dost understand me, priest?" And the old man leaned far across the tableso that his eyes, burning with an insane fire of venom, blazed but a fewinches from those of the priest.
Father Claude returned the look with calm level gaze.
"I understand," he said, and, rising, left the castle.
Shortly after he had reached his cottage, a loud knock sounded at thedoor, which immediately swung open without waiting the formality ofpermission. Father Claude looked up to see the tall figure of Norman ofTorn, and his face lighted with a pleased smile of welcome.
"Greetings, my son," said the priest.
"And to thee, Father," replied the outlaw, "And what may be the news ofTorn. I have been absent for several days. Is all well at the castle?"
"All be well at the castle," replied Father Claude, "if by that you meanhave none been captured or hanged for their murders. Ah, my boy, whywilt thou not give up this wicked life of thine? It has never been myway to scold or chide thee, yet always hath my heart ached for eachcrime laid at the door of Norman of Torn."
"Come, come, Father," replied the outlaw, "what dost I that I have notgood example for from the barons, and the King, and Holy Church. Murder,theft, rapine! Passeth a day over England which sees not one or allperpetrated in the name of some of these?
"Be it wicked for Norman of Torn to prey upon the wolf, yet righteousfor the wolf to tear the sheep? Methinks not. Only do I collect fromthose who have more than they need, from my natural enemies; while theyprey upon those who have naught.
"Yet," and his manner suddenly changed, "I do not love it, Father. Thatthou know. I would that there might be some way out of it, but there isnone.
"If I told you why I wished it, you would be surprised indeed, nor can Imyself understand; but, of a verity, my greatest wish to be out ofthis life is due to the fact that I crave the association of those veryenemies I have been taught to hate. But it is too late, Father, therecan be but one end and that the lower end of a hempen rope."
"No, my son, there is another way, an honorable way," replied the goodFather. "In some foreign clime there be opportunities abundant for suchas thee. France offers a magnificent future to such a soldier as Normanof Torn. In the court of Louis, you would take your place among thehighest of the land. You be rich and brave and handsome. Nay do notraise your hand. You be all these and more, for you have learning farbeyond the majority of nobles, and you have a good heart and a truechivalry of character. With such wondrous gifts, naught could bar yourway to the highest pinnacles of power and glory, while here you have nofuture beyond the halter. Canst thou hesitate, Norman of Torn?"
The young man stood silent for a moment, then he drew his hand acrosshis eyes as though to brush away a vision.
"There be a reason, Father, why I must remain in England for a time atleast, though the picture you put is indeed wondrous alluring."
And the reason was Bertrade de Montfort.
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