Part 8

An hour later a weary-looking, soaked figure knocked loudly and insistently at the door of the inn which sheltered the ladies Gertrude and Beatrice. It was Edgar, exhausted by a long swim in sodden garments and shirt of mail, which had well nigh dragged him to the bottom of the river. After a short parley the landlord admitted him, and, seeing his sorry condition, proceeded to light a fire to dry his wet garments, and good-naturedly lent him others until they were ready for use.

"Dost wish me to tell Sir John's ladies that thou art come?" he asked presently.

"Nay, I will spend the night before this fire, and speak to them early in the morning. Tell me when ye hear them stirring."

Long before Edgar awoke in the morning Peter had arrived, anxious to know if anything had been heard of his master. Seeing him asleep, and hearing of the exhausted condition in which he had arrived, he sat down patiently to wait until he should awake.

"Hast learned aught?" he cried as soon as Edgar opened his eyes.

"Aye, though what 'tis worth I know not;" and Edgar related the incidents of the attack and escape the night before. "Baulch said that Sir John was at Ruthenes, or a place that sounded much like it. Whatever that name may be worth to us, it would seem that Sir John is at least still alive."

"Ruthenes!" echoed Peter thoughtfully. "Methinks I have heard a word that sounded like that before. Yes, I have it; it was a word spoken more than once by De Maupas to that rascal Baulch. I could not catch it fully, but now I know the word, I feel sure it was that they were repeating."

"Then we are on the right track," cried Edgar joyfully. "Now we must find where Ruthenes is. Call mine host."

The landlord was called and asked if he knew of a place called Ruthenes. After a moment's thought he announced that he had heard of it as a castle of evil reputation situated on the lower slopes of the Pyrenees many leagues distant. It belonged to a knight named Eustace de Brin, who appeared to be better known amongst the country folk and peasantry as Black Eustace. Exactly why he should have earned so terrible a name, however, the landlord was unable to say.

Satisfied that Baulch had not lied to him, Edgar desired the landlord to send someone to arouse the ladies, and to tell them that Sir John's esquire begged a few minutes' audience with them upon a matter of great importance. Then he turned to Peter and instructed him to return to the camp, to saddle Sir John's two best horses, and to make all ready for a long journey. On his way through the town he was to obtain more countrymen's clothes of a better cut and quality than his last purchase--such, indeed, as might be worn by small traders travelling on business from one part of the country to another.

Very shortly both the ladies appeared, eager to know why Edgar had come to them so early in the day, and guessing that he must have news to tell.

In a few brief sentences Edgar described the scene at the inn, and the means by which he had extracted one single word from Baulch, which, he hoped, contained the key to Sir John's whereabouts. Then he announced that he had made up his mind to set out forthwith for Castle Ruthenes, accompanied only by Peter, and to do all in his power to deliver Sir John from his captors.

"But will not this Eustace offer him to ransom?" cried Beatrice. "We will gladly pay a ransom, however great, so long as we can get him safely back."

"I much misdoubt me whether Sir John would consent to a ransom being paid to dishonourable captors," replied Edgar. "'Tis not as though he had been captured in fair fight. Besides, would De Maupas consider himself avenged by a share in a ransom, for, of course, he must be in league with this Black Eustace?"

"I know not," cried Beatrice, stamping her foot in vexation. "But what seek ye to do? How can ye two carry Sir John away by force from a stronghold such as Castle Ruthenes seems to be?"

"By stratagem, backed by force if need be. There is naught else to be done. The earl is not yet ready to move, and even if he were, he could not move for months into so remote a part of the enemy's country as the district in which Ruthenes lies."

"Well, then, go, Edgar. Gertrude and I will pray for thy success even more heartily than in the combat with De Maupas. But trust not to thy sword too much. Ye hotheaded esquires think far too much of prowess in arms."

"I thank thee, maiden. I will try to remember thy counsels," replied Edgar, with a slight smile.

"But what are we to tell those who enquire for my father?" cried Gertrude.

"That is already settled. A day or two before he disappeared Sir John obtained leave from the earl to visit the lands of the lady Beatrice in Faucigny. Many called to congratulate him on his defeat of De Maupas, but hearing that he had left, supposed that he had already gone thence. I think it would be best if the lady Beatrice went to Faucigny for a time, and that thou didst return to Wolsingham."

"Nay, I shall not return home until I know what hath befallen my father," cried Gertrude decidedly. "Beatrice may please herself whether she visits her tenants at Faucigny, but I remain here. If the earl moves forward in thy absence the men-at-arms must go, but Matthew I shall keep with me."

A few more words and Edgar bade the ladies adieu, bidding them be of good cheer for the news he had brought showed that at any rate Sir John was alive. A rescue would, he trusted, only be a matter of time. Though the ladies were unable to accept so hopeful a statement, yet they felt a real thrill of hope. The dash and daring of the young esquire in the lists outside Bordeaux, the determination displayed by him in his onslaught upon the miscreant Baulch in the riverside inn, and the not less striking success which had attended both ventures gave them a ground for hoping at which they would have laughed a week ago.

Two hours later Edgar left the camp, accompanied by Peter, and took the road which led in the direction of Ruthenes. Both were dressed as small traders, though it must be confessed that their mounts were vastly superior to the steeds such men usually bestrode. Both carried sword and dagger, and Edgar wore beneath his outer garments the light shirt of steel mail which had already done him such good service. Permission to leave had readily been granted to him on the understanding that he was _en route_ to rejoin Sir John Chartris.

Before he left, Edgar called Matthew and gave him strict instructions to keep vigilant watch and ward over the Wolsingham ladies, and especially to see that neither went abroad unaccompanied by a proper escort. His fears for them, however, largely vanished when Matthew told him that De Maupas had recovered sufficiently to leave the camp for a destination which he had been unable to discover. The man Baulch appeared to have been left behind.

After a three-days' journey over rough roads, oftentimes mere tracks, Edgar and Peter reached a village in the vicinity of the castle of Ruthenes. Their arrival created something of a stir, for the village and district were so remote from the trade routes and highways that strangers were hardly ever seen. Somewhat disturbed that they were not able, as they wished, to pass unnoticed about their business, Edgar enquired whether the village boasted an inn. It did not, but the house which performed the nearest approach to that office was pointed out to him, and they made their way there and dismounted. A target for curiosity, and also, apparently, for barely concealed hostility, the two sat down to the poor hospitality the place afforded, feeling that the difficulties before them were greater even than they had anticipated.

It was evening when they arrived, and they had scarcely been there half an hour before no less a personage than the village priest called, ostensibly as a chance visitor, but really, as Edgar shrewdly suspected, to examine the two strangers, and to ascertain, if possible, what their visit portended.

"Ye are strangers here," remarked the priest, as he brought a mess of soup to the table at which Edgar and Peter were seated, and sat down himself.

Edgar assented and went on with his meal, though he kept a watchful eye upon the priest. The man was past middle age, tall and well built to all appearances, and had a kindly and pleasant, though careworn, face. Kindly as he looked, Edgar felt anxious to keep the real object of his visit there a secret from this man more than any other, for of all those in the village it was most probable that the local priest was on friendliest terms with the lord of the soil at Castle Ruthenes.

"Doubtless 'tis to visit the castle, and not us poor villagers, that ye are come," said the priest quietly, after a few minutes' pause.

"Nay, we know not Sir Eustace, and though we should like to see so fine a castle before we pass on, we shall not seek his hospitality."

"Are ye for us or against us?" asked the priest suddenly, fixing a pair of steady grey eyes upon Edgar.

"I know not what ye mean," said Edgar uncomfortably.

"I mean, are ye for the downtrodden and oppressed, or do ye uphold those who grind and ill-use the weak and helpless?"

"Certainly not the latter," cried Edgar quickly.

"Then join thyself to us, and make thyself famous in aiding a noble cause," cried the priest, his face flushing and his eyes sparkling like those of a zealot.

"What is this cause of which ye speak?" asked Edgar warily.

"It is to deliver these downtrodden folk amongst whom it is my sad lot to work. Have ye not heard of the ill fame of this Black Eustace, as he is called--and rightly called? Tell me that ye are not of his party--but I am sure ye are not, otherwise I would not have spoken so plainly."

"I am not. 'Tis but three days since I heard his name for the first time."

"Ah! then ye know not that he is the scourge of all this land, and doth kill and burn and flay without let or hindrance? He hath powerful friends, and never a thing is done when he ill-uses the poor ignorant folk who inhabit the land he calls his own. I have seen things with my own eyes that call aloud to heaven for vengeance, and yet the time cometh not."

"The country folk would then like to be rid of Sir Eustace?"

"Aye, they would like to rid themselves of him if only it were possible to poor and ill-armed men. Woe to me, a priest, that I should have to uphold the meeting of violence by violence! but I have tried to find another way and failed. I have been told that such a state as exists here exists in many other parts of France. If that be so, terrible things will be witnessed in the years to come.[1#] I cannot believe, however, that things can be so bad elsewhere as they are here, for whereas we are poor and ignorant, in other places the people are rich and powerful, and can resist oppression in many ways."

[#] The priest was right. In the rising of the "Jacquerie", which took place a few years later, dreadful scenes of violence and bloodshed were witnessed.

"Undoubtedly," murmured Edgar, nodding his head in agreement.

"But what we most lack is leaders," went on the priest in a still more earnest tone. "There is no one here, save myself, who stands out from the herd of poor miserable folk, and without leaders men with no knowledge of warfare are doubly useless. We want leaders," he reiterated in a meaning tone, fixing his eyes upon Edgar in a way that made that young man feel most uncomfortable.

"Yes, yes," replied Edgar in a soothing tone. "Doubtless the leaders ye need will be forthcoming when the time comes."

"The time has come, but the leaders are absent," cried the priest; and he was apparently about to say more when he stopped suddenly, as though with a great effort, and stared frowningly at the table.

Devoutly hoping that the priest had done and would spare them any further confidences, Edgar turned towards Peter and began to talk upon other topics. In a minute or two, however, the priest raised his head and went on:

"But what are ye here for? Ye say ye are not visitors to the castle. Yet art thou, sir, if I am not mistaken, a man trained to war, and your steeds tell the same tale. What else can there be in this remote spot that would attract thee save the castle? Thy patois is strange and unfamiliar to me, for I have travelled little; but undoubtedly thou hast journeyed here from afar."

Edgar smiled. His knowledge of the French tongue had been for the most part acquired at Wolsingham, where several had a good knowledge of it. On to this, however, had been grafted, since his arrival, a strong Gascon flavour that more than possibly assorted somewhat ill with his previous acquirements.

The priest was waiting for a reply, and Edgar quickly made up his mind to confide in him the true reason for his presence there. It was practically certain that did he not do so the priest would have him watched, and that, he felt, would be disastrous.

"Yes," he said, "I have travelled here from afar. Like you, I am at enmity with those who shelter behind the walls of Castle Ruthenes, and, like you, I seek to outmanoeuvre them. They hold prisoner one whom I must rescue at all costs." Then Edgar went on to describe briefly what had happened to Sir John, and how he had come to believe that he had been carried away to Ruthenes.

The priest listened attentively to the end. "Then your interests are identical with ours," he said in a voice which rang with triumph. "Why should ye not throw in your lot with us and aid us to fling down yon frowning battlements? Your knight shall thus be saved and my poor downtrodden folk delivered from the oppressor. Ye are trained to war, to the siege of castles, and to the command of men: take command of my people jointly with me. 'Tis a righteous cause--unhesitatingly I proclaim it."

Moved in spite of himself by the priest's deep earnestness and sincerity, Edgar for some moments could find no words with which to reply. He had heard many tales of the misery and degradation of the poorer classes of France, and their truth had been brought home by the sights that had met his gaze on the long journey thither. There could be little doubt that that unhappy condition was due in a very large measure to unjust extortion and oppression by the ruling classes. But his first duty was to Sir John.

"I fear it cannot be," he said presently. "I must accomplish the rescue of my master at once, or I may find it too late. Then, when I have delivered him, I shall be at his disposal, and can therefore make no promise of aid to thee. Your folk, if I mistake not, are not yet ready for the rising ye project. They are not organized, they have not been taught to obey any given set of signals, and they have no belief in one another. There must be weeks of patient work ere they can be led to attack a fortalice defended by trained and resolute men. Nay, victory cannot be snatched by a rising on the spur of the moment. There must be much work of patient preparation."

There was a long pause. Then the priest, his face full of trouble, rose from the bench on which he had been sitting, and began feverishly to pace the room.

"It is so," he said. "I feel it, though I am impatient to get to grips with the evildoers. I must begin at once, though when we are ready we shall still lack leaders. But mayhap ye will have failed to succour your knight, and will be glad to fall back upon our aid. Who knows?"

"Who knows, indeed? But I hope and believe not. If I have not rescued my master by then, I fear it will be because I am either dead or captured. But canst tell me aught of this castle? Is it strong? Doth it consist of a single donjon, or hath it outer walls?"

"It is an ancient castle, the origin of which is buried in the obscurity of the past. It hath a central donjon and also outer walls, most of it and all the stronger parts being built in its later days in imitation of the castles built by the Northmen in other parts of France. 'Tis strong, I know, for I have studied it with intent to discover its weakest spots."

"Hast discovered aught? I would fain learn, Sir Priest, any points that would help me in my quest. In return I will joyfully impart to you such knowledge as may come to me in my enterprise."

"I fear it hath no weak spots worthy of the name. Nothing save hard fighting can win yon fortalice, unless, as has of late been the case, the garrison wax careless from long inaction and freedom from alarums."

"Stratagem might effect its capture. It is on stratagem that I rely most for my own venture. But I would now fain bid thee good night, Sir Priest, and thank thee for thy kindly information. Perchance we shall meet again. Come, Peter!"

"Good night, Sir Squire! May ye prosper and win your way both in and out of the blood-stained lair of Black Eustace! God speed!"

*CHAPTER XII*

*Castle Ruthenes*

Early on the following day Edgar, accompanied by Peter, reconnoitred Castle Ruthenes from the shelter of the thick woods which stretched to within less than a hundred yards of its walls. In the light of his knowledge of the castles of the time, Edgar could study the stronghold with a real appreciation of its strong and weak points. Its chief characteristic was a square central donjon, apparently of great age, which towered high above the outer walls. These were somewhat low, though of a very massive build, and appeared to belong to a later date than the donjon, having probably been thrown out as an additional screen against a surprise attack.

About the walls ran a moat, fairly wide and apparently deep, formed by a stream from the mountains being dammed back and looped, so as to complete the circumference of the walls. The castle stood in a hollow, and the moat ran sluggishly at a level with the surrounding land, which was boggy and springy, as though the water often overflowed and covered it inches deep. The place seemed to reek with moisture, the walls being mossgrown and discoloured; while the thick woods, encroaching closely upon the narrow patch of grassy plain, seemed to add to the forbidding, cheerless air of the gloomy fortalice.

The outer walls were pierced in one spot only, and that was at the main gateway. Here the moat was spanned by a drawbridge of modern appearance, but Edgar could see no traces of a portcullis, its place being taken by heavy oaken gates faced with plates of iron.

Struck by the gloomy, unhealthy look of the castle, Edgar could not help exclaiming in a voice of deep concern:

"I hope, Peter, they have treated Sir John well. The dungeons of such castles usually lie deep below the level of the moat. If they have immured him in one of those I fear for him. Sir John's health hath suffered much from his many campaigns."

"I hope not, Master Edgar. But we must hasten the more to release him, though how 'tis to be done I know not."

"We, or I, might perhaps gain entrance in disguise, though that would mean a daylight entry, and we should be under observation, and could hardly hope to effect much. Besides, since the simple old priest so quickly penetrated our disguise, I have lost faith in our abilities in that direction--our tongue, I fear, betrayeth us all too quickly."

Peter nodded in agreement.

"Come, let us make the full circuit of the walls, Peter, keeping well within the shadow of the woods. So far, I can see no way in save by scaling the walls themselves."

"By a ladder?" queried Peter.

"Nay, a ladder would betray us, if not before we entered, certainly at dawn the following morning. Nay, but a rope and grapnel in patient hands should win an entrance."

"A rope and grapnel!" cried Peter. "A rope we can doubtless obtain from someone among the country folk, but where may we obtain a grapnel?"

"We can improvise one. A sword wrapped in cloths might be well lodged in the spaces betwixt those blocks on the summit of the wall--thy steel scabbard, Peter, with the rope tied to its middle, flung up and properly lodged, would easily take the weight of one of us. Ha, 'tis easy after all!"

"But could we fling scabbard and rope to the summit of the wall from the distance of the edge of the moat?"

"'Twill certainly be a long throw. Is there no place where a bank at the bottom of the wall will give us a footing? Look closely, Peter, and see if thou canst discern such a bank anywhere. If we can see none we must, when the time comes, swim the whole circle of the walls and feel for one. A footing in mud and water will serve our turn."

"I see something, Master Edgar. See--where that clump of reeds shows a foot above the water against the walls--the bottom must be near the surface there."

"Maybe--unless there be but soft mud. Look again, Peter--we must, if we can, find a place where we can swing our rope full freely."

Before the circuit of the walls had been completed, a place had been found where a low bank lay between the moat and the foot of the wall. This was hailed with satisfaction as a step in the direction of scaling the outer defences of the castle, and during the remainder of the day Edgar and Peter sat down to watch all that went on, and particularly what sentries were posted and how far their observation extended.

Ere the day was out they had made up their minds that a good watch was kept, and that the slackness referred to by the priest had either never existed or had recently, from one cause or another, been entirely removed. Two men-at-arms were always upon the walls, keeping watch from opposite angles, from which the whole extent of the outer defences could be easily surveyed. Another man was posted at the gateway, to operate the drawbridge and to keep a lookout upon all who came to claim admittance. These sentries, too, were not only present, but appeared to be watchful and alert to all that went forward. Depressed at the evidence of the keen watch kept, but elated at finding a bank from which the rope and grapnel might be cast with some chance of success, Edgar and Peter returned to the poor dwelling at which they had obtained temporary shelter, there to await the time when their first attempt should be made.

As on the evening before, the priest appeared and supped with them, more for company's sake on this occasion, it seemed, than with any desire to keep watch upon them and their movements. Feeling a good deal of confidence in the kindly, careworn face with the steady grey eyes, Edgar told the priest what they had learned and how he proposed to effect an entrance. The news that the garrison was keeping a careful watch seemed to fill the priest with surprise and some concern.

"Can it be that they have heard of your arrival?" he said. "And yet if that were so 'twould not be the posting of extra guards that I should expect, but the sally of a score of their blood-stained men-at-arms, who would pour into this village in an iron stream as they have done so often before. Ye would have been routed out, and within five minutes the branches of the nearest tree would have groaned beneath your weight. That is what has been before. Why, then, have they posted sentinels? Nothing else hath occurred save the arrival at the castle of a man who must indeed be of some consequence, seeing that he was accompanied by an escort of two men-at-arms."

"When did this man arrive?" asked Edgar quickly.

"On the morning of the day of your arrival--that is, yesterday."

"Canst describe him to me?"

"I did not see the man, and those who reported it to me, as all do the most trifling events, said that they could see little of him, as his head was swathed in bandages."

"It is he," murmured Edgar half to himself.

"Who? Whom dost mean? Dost know the man?" cried the priest sharply.