The White Company

by Arthur Conan Doyle

  CHAPTER XXVI. HOW THE THREE COMRADES GAINED A MIGHTY TREASURE

  It was a bright, crisp winter's day when the little party set off fromBordeaux on their journey to Montaubon, where the missing half of theirCompany had last been heard of. Sir Nigel and Ford had ridden on inadvance, the knight upon his hackney, while his great war-horse trottedbeside his squire. Two hours later Alleyne Edricson followed; for he hadthe tavern reckoning to settle, and many other duties which fell to himas squire of the body. With him came Aylward and Hordle John, armedas of old, but mounted for their journey upon a pair of clumsy Landeshorses, heavy-headed and shambling, but of great endurance, and capableof jogging along all day, even when between the knees of the hugearcher, who turned the scale at two hundred and seventy pounds. Theytook with them the sumpter mules, which carried in panniers the wardrobeand table furniture of Sir Nigel; for the knight, though neither fop norepicure, was very dainty in small matters, and loved, however bare theboard or hard the life, that his napery should still be white and hisspoon of silver.

  There had been frost during the night, and the white hard road rang loudunder their horses' irons as they spurred through the east gate of thetown, along the same broad highway which the unknown French championhad traversed on the day of the jousts. The three rode abreast, AlleyneEdricson with his eyes cast down and his mind distrait, for his thoughtswere busy with the conversation which he had had with Sir Nigel in themorning. Had he done well to say so much, or had he not done better tohave said more? What would the knight have said had he confessed to hislove for the Lady Maude? Would he cast him off in disgrace, or might hechide him as having abused the shelter of his roof? It had been readyupon his tongue to tell him all when Sir Oliver had broken in upon them.Perchance Sir Nigel, with his love of all the dying usages of chivalry,might have contrived some strange ordeal or feat of arms by which hislove should be put to the test. Alleyne smiled as he wondered whatfantastic and wondrous deed would be exacted from him. Whatever it was,he was ready for it, whether it were to hold the lists in the court ofthe King of Tartary, to carry a cartel to the Sultan of Baghdad, or toserve a term against the wild heathen of Prussia. Sir Nigel had saidthat his birth was high enough for any lady, if his fortune could butbe amended. Often had Alleyne curled his lip at the beggarly craving forland or for gold which blinded man to the higher and more lasting issuesof life. Now it seemed as though it were only by this same land and goldthat he might hope to reach his heart's desire. But then, again, theSocman of Minstead was no friend to the Constable of Twynham Castle. Itmight happen that, should he amass riches by some happy fortune of war,this feud might hold the two families aloof. Even if Maude loved him, heknew her too well to think that she would wed him without the blessingof her father. Dark and murky was it all, but hope mounts high in youth,and it ever fluttered over all the turmoil of his thoughts like a whiteplume amid the shock of horsemen.

  If Alleyne Edricson had enough to ponder over as he rode through thebare plains of Guienne, his two companions were more busy with thepresent and less thoughtful of the future. Aylward rode for half a milewith his chin upon his shoulder, looking back at a white kerchief whichfluttered out of the gable window of a high house which peeped over thecorner of the battlements. When at last a dip of the road hid it fromhis view, he cocked his steel cap, shrugged his broad shoulders, androde on with laughter in his eyes, and his weather-beaten face allashine with pleasant memories. John also rode in silence, but his eyeswandered slowly from one side of the road to the other, and he staredand pondered and nodded his head like a traveller who makes his notesand saves them up for the re-telling.

  "By the rood!" he broke out suddenly, slapping his thigh with his greatred hand, "I knew that there was something a-missing, but I could notbring to my mind what it was."

  "What was it then?" asked Alleyne, coming with a start out of hisreverie.

  "Why, it is the hedgerows," roared John, with a shout of laughter. "Thecountry is all scraped as clear as a friar's poll. But indeed I cannotthink much of the folk in these parts. Why do they not get to work anddig up these long rows of black and crooked stumps which I see on everyhand? A franklin of Hampshire would think shame to have such litter uponhis soil."

  "Thou foolish old John!" quoth Aylward. "You should know better, sinceI have heard that the monks of Beaulieu could squeeze a good cup ofwine from their own grapes. Know then that if these rows were dug upthe wealth of the country would be gone, and mayhap there would be drythroats and gaping mouths in England, for in three months' time theseblack roots will blossom and shoot and burgeon, and from them will comemany a good ship-load of Medoc and Gascony which will cross the narrowseas. But see the church in the hollow, and the folk who cluster in thechurchyard! By my hilt! it is a burial, and there is a passing bell!"He pulled off his steel cap as he spoke and crossed himself, with amuttered prayer for the repose of the dead.

  "There too," remarked Alleyne, as they rode on again, "that which seemsto the eye to be dead is still full of the sap of life, even as thevines were. Thus God hath written Himself and His laws very broadly onall that is around us, if our poor dull eyes and duller souls could butread what He hath set before us."

  "Ha! mon petit," cried the bowman, "you take me back to the days whenyou were new fledged, as sweet a little chick as ever pecked his wayout of a monkish egg. I had feared that in gaining our debonair youngman-at-arms we had lost our soft-spoken clerk. In truth, I have notedmuch change in you since we came from Twynham Castle."

  "Surely it would be strange else, seeing that I have lived in a worldso new to me. Yet I trust that there are many things in which I have notchanged. If I have turned to serve an earthly master, and to carry armsfor an earthly king, it would be an ill thing if I were to lose allthought of the great high King and Master of all, whose humble andunworthy servant I was ere ever I left Beaulieu. You, John, are alsofrom the cloisters, but I trow that you do not feel that you havedeserted the old service in taking on the new."

  "I am a slow-witted man," said John, "and, in sooth, when I try to thinkabout such matters it casts a gloom upon me. Yet I do not look uponmyself as a worse man in an archer's jerkin than I was in a white cowl,if that be what you mean."

  "You have but changed from one white company to the other," quothAylward. "But, by these ten finger-bones! it is a passing strange thingto me to think that it was but in the last fall of the leaf that wewalked from Lyndhurst together, he so gentle and maidenly, and you,John, like a great red-limbed overgrown moon-calf; and now here youare as sprack a squire and as lusty an archer as ever passed down thehighway from Bordeaux, while I am still the same old Samkin Aylward,with never a change, save that I have a few more sins on my soul and afew less crowns in my pouch. But I have never yet heard, John, what thereason was why you should come out of Beaulieu."

  "There were seven reasons," said John thoughtfully. "The first of themwas that they threw me out."

  "Ma foi! camarade, to the devil with the other six! That is enough forme and for thee also. I can see that they are very wise and discreetfolk at Beaulieu. Ah! mon ange, what have you in the pipkin?"

  "It is milk, worthy sir," answered the peasant-maid, who stood by thedoor of a cottage with a jug in her hand. "Would it please you, gentles,that I should bring you out three horns of it?"

  "Nay, ma petite, but here is a two-sous piece for thy kindly tongue andfor the sight of thy pretty face. Ma foi! but she has a bonne mine. Ihave a mind to bide and speak with her."

  "Nay, nay, Aylward," cried Alleyne. "Sir Nigel will await us, and he inhaste."

  "True, true, camarade! Adieu, ma cherie! mon coeur est toujours atoi. Her mother is a well-grown woman also. See where she digs by thewayside. Ma foi! the riper fruit is ever the sweeter. Bon jour, ma belledame! God have you in his keeping! Said Sir Nigel where he would awaitus?"

  "At Marmande or Aiguillon. He said that we could not pass him, seeingthat there is but the one road."

  "Aye, and it is a road that I know as I know the Midhurst
parishbutts," quoth the bowman. "Thirty times have I journeyed it, forward andbackward, and, by the twang of string! I am wont to come back this waymore laden than I went. I have carried all that I had into France ina wallet, and it hath taken four sumpter-mules to carry it back again.God's benison on the man who first turned his hand to the making of war!But there, down in the dingle, is the church of Cardillac, and you maysee the inn where three poplars grow beyond the village. Let us on, fora stoup of wine would hearten us upon our way."

  The highway had lain through the swelling vineyard country, whichstretched away to the north and east in gentle curves, with many apeeping spire and feudal tower, and cluster of village houses, all clearcut and hard in the bright wintry air. To their right stretched the blueGaronne, running swiftly seawards, with boats and barges dotted over itsbroad bosom. On the other side lay a strip of vineyard, and beyond itthe desolate and sandy region of the Landes, all tangled with fadedgorse and heath and broom, stretching away in unbroken gloom to the bluehills which lay low upon the furthest sky-line. Behind them might stillbe seen the broad estuary of the Gironde, with the high towers ofSaint Andre and Saint Remi shooting up from the plain. In front, amidradiating lines of poplars, lay the riverside townlet of Cardillac--graywalls, white houses, and a feather of blue smoke.

  "This is the 'Mouton d'Or,'" said Aylward, as they pulled up theirhorses at a whitewashed straggling hostel. "What ho there!" hecontinued, beating upon the door with the hilt of his sword. "Tapster,ostler, varlet, hark hither, and a wannion on your lazy limbs! Ha!Michel, as red in the nose as ever! Three jacks of the wine of thecountry, Michel--for the air bites shrewdly. I pray you, Alleyne, totake note of this door, for I have a tale concerning it."

  "Tell me, friend," said Alleyne to the portly red-faced inn-keeper, "hasa knight and a squire passed this way within the hour?"

  "Nay, sir, it would be two hours back. Was he a small man, weak in theeyes, with a want of hair, and speaks very quiet when he is most to befeared?"

  "The same," the squire answered. "But I marvel how you should know howhe speaks when he is in wrath, for he is very gentle-minded with thosewho are beneath him."

  "Praise to the saints! it was not I who angered him," said the fatMichel.

  "Who, then?"

  "It was young Sieur de Crespigny of Saintonge, who chanced to be here,and made game of the Englishman, seeing that he was but a small man andhath a face which is full of peace. But indeed this good knight was avery quiet and patient man, for he saw that the Sieur de Crespignywas still young and spoke from an empty head, so he sat his horseand quaffed his wine, even as you are doing now, all heedless of theclacking tongue."

  "And what then, Michel?"

  "Well, messieurs, it chanced that the Sieur de Crespigny, having saidthis and that, for the laughter of the varlets, cried out at last aboutthe glove that the knight wore in his coif, asking if it was the customin England for a man to wear a great archer's glove in his cap. Pardieu!I have never seen a man get off his horse as quick as did that strangerEnglishman. Ere the words were past the other's lips he was beside him,his face nigh touching, and his breath hot upon his cheeks. 'I think,young sir,' quoth he softly, looking into the other's eyes, 'that nowthat I am nearer you will very clearly see that the glove is not anarcher's glove.' 'Perchance not,' said the Sieur de Crespigny with atwitching lip. 'Nor is it large, but very small,' quoth the Englishman.'Less large than I had thought,' said the other, looking down, for theknight's gaze was heavy upon his eyelids. 'And in every way such a gloveas might be worn by the fairest and sweetest lady in England,' quoththe Englishman. 'It may be so,' said the Sieur de Crespigny, turning hisface from him. 'I am myself weak in the eyes, and have often taken onething for another,' quoth the knight, as he sprang back into his saddleand rode off, leaving the Sieur de Crespigny biting his nails before thedoor. Ha! by the five wounds, many men of war have drunk my wine, butnever one was more to my fancy than this little Englishman."

  "By my hilt! he is our master, Michel," quoth Aylward, "and such men aswe do not serve under a laggart. But here are four deniers, Michel, andGod be with you! En avant, camarades! for we have a long road beforeus."

  At a brisk trot the three friends left Cardillac and its wine-housebehind them, riding without a halt past St. Macaire, and on by ferryover the river Dorpt. At the further side the road winds through LaReolle, Bazaille, and Marmande, with the sunlit river still gleamingupon the right, and the bare poplars bristling up upon either side. Johnand Alleyne rode silent on either side, but every inn, farm-steading,or castle brought back to Aylward some remembrance of love, foray, orplunder, with which to beguile the way.

  "There is the smoke from Bazas, on the further side of Garonne," quothhe. "There were three sisters yonder, the daughters of a farrier, and,by these ten finger-bones! a man might ride for a long June day andnever set eyes upon such maidens. There was Marie, tall and grave, andBlanche petite and gay, and the dark Agnes, with eyes that went throughyou like a waxed arrow. I lingered there as long as four days, and wasbetrothed to them all; for it seemed shame to set one above her sisters,and might make ill blood in the family. Yet, for all my care, thingswere not merry in the house, and I thought it well to come away. There,too, is the mill of Le Souris. Old Pierre Le Caron, who owned it, was aright good comrade, and had ever a seat and a crust for a weary archer.He was a man who wrought hard at all that he turned his hand to; but heheated himself in grinding bones to mix with his flour, and so throughover-diligence he brought a fever upon himself and died."

  "Tell me, Aylward," said Alleyne, "what was amiss with the door ofyonder inn that you should ask me to observe it."

  "Pardieu! yes, I had well-nigh forgot. What saw you on yonder door?"

  "I saw a square hole, through which doubtless the host may peep when heis not too sure of those who knock."

  "And saw you naught else?"

  "I marked that beneath this hole there was a deep cut in the door, asthough a great nail had been driven in."

  "And naught else?"

  "No."

  "Had you looked more closely you might have seen that there was a stainupon the wood. The first time that I ever heard my comrade Black Simonlaugh was in front of that door. I heard him once again when he slew aFrench squire with his teeth, he being unarmed and the Frenchman havinga dagger."

  "And why did Simon laugh in front of the inn-door!" asked John.

  "Simon is a hard and perilous man when he hath the bitter drop in him;and, by my hilt! he was born for war, for there is little sweetness orrest in him. This inn, the 'Mouton d'Or,' was kept in the old days byone Francois Gourval, who had a hard fist and a harder heart. It wassaid that many and many an archer coming from the wars had been servedwith wine with simples in it, until he slept, and had then been strippedof all by this Gourval. Then on the morrow, if he made complaint, thiswicked Gourval would throw him out upon the road or beat him, for hewas a very lusty man, and had many stout varlets in his service. Thischanced to come to Simon's ears when we were at Bordeaux together, andhe would have it that we should ride to Cardillac with a good hempencord, and give this Gourval such a scourging as he merited. Forth werode then, but when we came to the 'Mouton d'Or,' Gourval had had word ofour coming and its purpose, so that the door was barred, nor was thereany way into the house. 'Let us in, good Master Gourval!' cried Simon,and 'Let us in, good Master Gourval!' cried I, but no word could we getthrough the hole in the door, save that he would draw an arrow upon usunless we went on our way. 'Well, Master Gourval,' quoth Simon at last,'this is but a sorry welcome, seeing that we have ridden so far just toshake you by the hand.' 'Canst shake me by the hand without coming in,'said Gourval. 'And how that?' asked Simon. 'By passing in your handthrough the hole,' said he. 'Nay, my hand is wounded,' quoth Simon, 'andof such a size that I cannot pass it in.' 'That need not hinder,' saidGourval, who was hot to be rid of us, 'pass in your left hand.' 'But Ihave something for thee, Gourval,' said Simon. 'What then?' he asked.'There was an English archer who slept her
e last week of the name ofHugh of Nutbourne.' 'We have had many rogues here,' said Gourval. 'Hisconscience hath been heavy within him because he owes you a debt offourteen deniers, having drunk wine for which he hath never paid.For the easing of his soul, he asked me to pay the money to you as Ipassed.' Now this Gourval was very greedy for money, so he thrust forthhis hand for the fourteen deniers, but Simon had his dagger ready andhe pinned his hand to the door. 'I have paid the Englishman's debt,Gourval!' quoth he, and so rode away, laughing so that he could scarcesit his horse, leaving mine host still nailed to his door. Such is thestory of the hole which you have marked, and of the smudge upon thewood. I have heard that from that time English archers have been bettertreated in the auberge of Cardillac. But what have we here by thewayside?"

  "It appears to be a very holy man," said Alleyne.

  "And, by the rood! he hath some strange wares," cried John. "What arethese bits of stone, and of wood, and rusted nails, which are set out infront of him?"

  The man whom they had remarked sat with his back against a cherry-tree,and his legs shooting out in front of him, like one who is greatly athis ease. Across his thighs was a wooden board, and scattered over itall manner of slips of wood and knobs of brick and stone, each laidseparate from the other, as a huckster places his wares. He was dressedin a long gray gown, and wore a broad hat of the same color, muchweather-stained, with three scallop-shells dangling from the brim. Asthey approached, the travellers observed that he was advanced in years,and that his eyes were upturned and yellow.

  "Dear knights and gentlemen," he cried in a high crackling voice,"worthy Christian cavaliers, will ye ride past and leave an aged pilgrimto die of hunger? The sight hast been burned from mine eyes by the sandsof the Holy Land, and I have had neither crust of bread nor cup of winethese two days past."

  "By my hilt! father," said Aylward, looking keenly at him, "it is amarvel to me that thy girdle should have so goodly a span and clip theeso closely, if you have in sooth had so little to place within it."

  "Kind stranger," answered the pilgrim, "you have unwittingly spokenwords which are very grievous to me to listen to. Yet I should be lothto blame you, for I doubt not that what you said was not meant to saddenme, nor to bring my sore affliction back to my mind. It ill becomes meto prate too much of what I have endured for the faith, and yet, sinceyou have observed it, I must tell you that this thickness and roundnessof the waist is caused by a dropsy brought on by over-haste injourneying from the house of Pilate to the Mount of Olives."

  "There, Aylward," said Alleyne, with a reddened cheek, "let that curbyour blunt tongue. How could you bring a fresh pang to this holy man,who hath endured so much and hath journeyed as far as Christ's ownblessed tomb?"

  "May the foul fiend strike me dumb!" cried the bowman in hot repentance;but both the palmer and Alleyne threw up their hands to stop him.

  "I forgive thee from my heart, dear brother," piped the blind man. "But,oh, these wild words of thine are worse to mine ears than aught whichyou could say of me."

  "Not another word shall I speak," said Aylward; "but here is a franc forthee and I crave thy blessing."

  "And here is another," said Alleyne.

  "And another," cried Hordle John.

  But the blind palmer would have none of their alms. "Foolish, foolishpride!" he cried, beating upon his chest with his large brown hand."Foolish, foolish pride! How long then will it be ere I can scourge itforth? Am I then never to conquer it? Oh, strong, strong are the ties offlesh, and hard it is to subdue the spirit! I come, friends, of a noblehouse, and I cannot bring myself to touch this money, even though it beto save me from the grave."

  "Alas! father," said Alleyne, "how then can we be of help to thee?"

  "I had sat down here to die," quoth the palmer; "but for many years Ihave carried in my wallet these precious things which you see set forthnow before me. It were sin, thought I, that my secret should perish withme. I shall therefore sell these things to the first worthy passers-by,and from them I shall have money enough to take me to the shrine of OurLady at Rocamadour, where I hope to lay these old bones."

  "What are these treasures, then, father?" asked Hordle John. "I can butsee an old rusty nail, with bits of stone and slips of wood."

  "My friend," answered the palmer, "not all the money that is in thiscountry could pay a just price for these wares of mine. This nail," hecontinued, pulling off his hat and turning up his sightless orbs, "isone of those wherewith man's salvation was secured. I had it, togetherwith this piece of the true rood, from the five-and-twentieth descendantof Joseph of Arimathea, who still lives in Jerusalem alive and well,though latterly much afflicted by boils. Aye, you may well crossyourselves, and I beg that you will not breathe upon it or touch it withyour fingers."

  "And the wood and stone, holy father?" asked Alleyne, with bated breath,as he stared awe-struck at his precious relics.

  "This cantle of wood is from the true cross, this other from Noah hisark, and the third is from the door-post of the temple of the wise KingSolomon. This stone was thrown at the sainted Stephen, and the other twoare from the Tower of Babel. Here, too, is part of Aaron's rod, and alock of hair from Elisha the prophet."

  "But, father," quoth Alleyne, "the holy Elisha was bald, which broughtdown upon him the revilements of the wicked children."

  "It is very true that he had not much hair," said the palmer quickly,"and it is this which makes this relic so exceeding precious. Take nowyour choice of these, my worthy gentlemen, and pay such a price asyour consciences will suffer you to offer; for I am not a chapman nora huckster, and I would never part with them, did I not know that I amvery near to my reward."

  "Aylward," said Alleyne excitedly, "this is such a chance as few folkhave twice in one life. The nail I must have, and I will give it to theabbey of Beaulieu, so that all the folk in England may go thither towonder and to pray."

  "And I will have the stone from the temple," cried Hordle John. "Whatwould not my old mother give to have it hung over her bed?"

  "And I will have Aaron's rod," quoth Aylward. "I have but five florinsin the world, and here are four of them."

  "Here are three more," said John.

  "And here are five more," added Alleyne. "Holy father, I hand you twelveflorins, which is all that we can give, though we well know how poor apay it is for the wondrous things which you sell us."

  "Down, pride, down!" cried the pilgrim, still beating upon his chest."Can I not bend myself then to take this sorry sum which is offered mefor that which has cost me the labors of a life. Give me the dross! Hereare the precious relics, and, oh, I pray you that you will handle themsoftly and with reverence, else had I rather left my unworthy bones hereby the wayside."

  With doffed caps and eager hands, the comrades took their new andprecious possessions, and pressed onwards upon their journey, leavingthe aged palmer still seated under the cherry-tree. They rode insilence, each with his treasure in his hand, glancing at it from time totime, and scarce able to believe that chance had made them sole ownersof relics of such holiness and worth that every abbey and churchin Christendom would have bid eagerly for their possession. So theyjourneyed, full of this good fortune, until opposite the town of Le Mas,where John's horse cast a shoe, and they were glad to find a waysidesmith who might set the matter to rights. To him Aylward narrated thegood hap which had befallen them; but the smith, when his eyes lit uponthe relics, leaned up against his anvil and laughed, with his hand tohis side, until the tears hopped down his sooty cheeks.

  "Why, masters," quoth he, "this man is a coquillart, or seller of falserelics, and was here in the smithy not two hours ago. This nail thathe hath sold you was taken from my nail-box, and as to the wood and thestones, you will see a heap of both outside from which he hath filledhis scrip."

  "Nay, nay," cried Alleyne, "this was a holy man who had journeyed toJerusalem, and acquired a dropsy by running from the house of Pilate tothe Mount of Olives."

  "I know not about that," said the smith; "but
I know that a man with agray palmer's hat and gown was here no very long time ago, and that hesat on yonder stump and ate a cold pullet and drank a flask of wine.Then he begged from me one of my nails, and filling his scrip withstones, he went upon his way. Look at these nails, and see if they arenot the same as that which he has sold you."

  "Now may God save us!" cried Alleyne, all aghast. "Is there no end thento the wickedness of humankind? He so humble, so aged, so loth to takeour money--and yet a villain and a cheat. Whom can we trust or believein?"

  "I will after him," said Aylward, flinging himself into the saddle."Come, Alleyne, we may catch him ere John's horse be shod."

  Away they galloped together, and ere long they saw the old gray palmerwalking slowly along in front of them. He turned, however, at the soundof their hoofs, and it was clear that his blindness was a cheat like allthe rest of him, for he ran swiftly through a field and so into a wood,where none could follow him. They hurled their relics after him, and sorode back to the blacksmith's the poorer both in pocket and in faith.