CHAPTER XXII.

THE SHERIFF.

"The Sheriff, with a monstrous watch, is at the door."

KING HENRY IV.

Two hours' hard riding, considering that the riders were men armed in heavy mail, brought the party into the narrow, ill-paved streets of Kendal, at least two hours earlier than the time specified by Sir Foulke d'Oilly, and it was not above ten o'clock of the night when they pulled up before a long, low, thatched cabin, above the door of which, a bush and a bottle, suspended from a pole, gave note that it was a house of entertainment. Flinging his rein to one of half-a-dozen grooms and horse-boys, who were lounging about the gate, the knight raised the latch, and entered a long, smoky apartment, which seemed to occupy the whole ground floor of the building, affording room for the accommodation of fifty or sixty guests, on occasion of feasts, fairs, or holidays.

It was an area of thirty or forty feet in length, by ten or twelve in width, with bare rough-cast walls, and bare rafters overhead, blackened by the smoke which escaped from the ill-constructed chimneys at either end, and eddied overhead in a perennial canopy of sable. The floor, however, was strewed with fresh green rushes, green wreaths and branches were hung on the rough-cast walls, and a large earthen-vase or two of water-lilies and other showy wild-flowers adorned the board, which was covered with clean white napery of domestic fabric. At the upper end of this long table, half-a-dozen or eight men were supping on a chine of hill-kid, with roasted moor-fowl and wild-ducks, the landlord of the tavern being the bailiff of the town, and having his lord's license to take all small game, save bustard, heron, woodcock, and pheasant, for the benefit of his guest-table.

On the entrance of Sir Foulke, these men rose to their feet; and one, the best-armed and best-looking of the party, seeming to be a second esquire or equerry, asked him, in a subdued voice--

"What fortune, Sir Foulke; have you got the villeyn?"

"Safe enough, Fitz Hugh," replied the knight; "but he is no mere brute, as you fellows told me, but a perilous, shrewd, intelligent, clear-headed Saxon. He has been advised, too, in this matter, by some one well-skilled in the law, and was, I think, expecting our coming. I should not marvel much, if De Taillebois have notice of us. We must be in the saddle again as soon as possible. But I must have a morsel ere we start; I have not tasted aught since high-noon, and then it was but a beggarly oat-cake and a flask of mead. What have you there?"

"Some right good treble ale, beausire; let me fill you a tankard, and play cup-bearer for once." And, suiting the action to the word, he filled out a mighty horn of the liquid amber, capped with its snowy foam, and handed it to the knight, adding, "The supper is but fragments, but there is more at the fire now. I will go to the stables, and see the fresh horses saddled and caparisoned; and as I pass the buttery and tap, I will stir up the loitering knaves."

"Do so, Fitz Hugh," replied the other; "but hasten, Jesu Maria! hasten! I reckon but half done until we are out of this beggarly hole, and under way for merry Yorkshire. And hark you, Fitz Hugh, let them bring in the prisoner. We must have him along with us; and ten of the best men, lightly armed, and mounted on the pick of our stud. Ten more may tarry with the tired beasts we have just used, and bring them on with the baggage and sumpter horses to-morrow."

Then, as his officer left the hall to attend to his multifarious duties, he quaffed another huge flagon of the strong, heady ale; and, casting himself into a settle in the chimney-corner, what between the warmth of the fire, grateful after his hard ride in the chilly night air, and the fumes of the heady tankard, he sunk into a doze, from which he only aroused himself, when, half an hour afterward, in came a dozen clumsy village servants, stamping and clattering in their heavy-clouted shoes, and loaded the table with smoking platters and huge joints, of which, however coarse the cookery, the odors were any thing but unsavory.

To supper accordingly he now applied himself, two or three of the men who had been with him at the seizure of Kenric, crowding into the room and taking the lower end of the table, where another great fire was blazing, and others coming in and out in succession, until all were satisfied.

It is, however, remarkable, as in character with the sensual, self-indulgent, and unrestrained temperament of this most unworthy and unknightly Norman, his race being, of all the northern tribes, that least addicted to gluttony and drunkenness, and priding itself on moderation and decorum at the table, that, notwithstanding his earnest desire to depart from his somewhat perilous situation, he yet yielded to his appetites, and lingered over the board, though it offered nothing beyond coarse viands and strong ale, long after the horses were announced to be in readiness.

At length he rose, washed his hands, and calling his page to replace such portions of his armor as he had laid aside, was preparing to move in earnest, when the well-known clash of mail-coats and the thick trampling of a numerous squadron coming up the village street gave notice that he was surprised.

The next moment, a man-at-arms rushed into the room, with dismay in his face.

"Lances, my Lord of d'Oilly," he cried; "lances and a broad banner! There are full fifty of them coming up the street from the northward, and some of the grooms who were on the out-look report more spears to the south. We are surrounded."

"Call in the men hither from the stables, then; let them cut short their lances to six feet, and bring their maces and battle-axes; we can make a stout stand here, and command good terms at the worst."

Time, however, was short, and his orders were but partially obeyed, the men coming in by twos and threes from the stables in the rear, looking gloomy and dispirited, when a trumpet was blown clearly without, and, the cavalcade halting, in mass, in front of the hostelry, a fine deep voice was heard to cry;

"What men be these? Who dare lift spears, or display banners, in my town of Kendal, without license of me?"

"It is De Taillebois," said d'Oilly; "it avails nothing to resist. Throw the doors open."

But, as he spoke, the reply of his lieutenant was heard to the summons;

"We be Sir Foulke d'Oilly's men, and we dare lift spear and display banner, wheresoever our lord order us."

"Well said, good fellow!" answered the powerful voice of the old knight. "Go in, therefore, and tell your lord that the Sheriff of Lancaster is at the door, with fifty lances, to inforce the king's peace; and that he draw in his men at once, or ere worse come of it, and show cause what he makes here, in effeir of war, in my manor of Kendal, and the king's county of Westmoreland."

D'Oilly set his teeth hard, and smote the table with his gauntleted hand. "Curses on him," he muttered, "he hath me at advantage." Then, as he received the summons, "Pray the Lord of Taillebois," he said; "he will have the courtesy to set foot to ground, and enter in hither, that we hold conference."

Again the voice was heard without, "Ride to the bridge, Huon, at the town end, and call me Aradas."

There was a short pause, and then, as the gallop of a horse was heard coming up to the house, the orders were given to dismount, link bridles, and close up to the doors; and at the next instant, Sir Yvo entered, stooping his tall crest to pass the low-browed door, followed by his trusty squire, Aradas de Ratcliffe, and half-a-dozen others of his principal retainers, one or two of them wearing knightly crests upon their burgonets.

The first words the knight uttered, as he raised his avantaille and gazed about him, were "St. Agatha, how hot it is, and what a reek of peat-smoke and ale! Open those windows, some of you, to the street, and let us have a breath of heaven's fresh air. The Lord, he knows we need it."

In a moment, the thick-wooden shutters and lattices, which had been closed by those within on the first alarm of his coming, were cast wide open, and the spaces were filled at once by the stalwart forms and resolute faces of the men-at-arms of De Taillebois, in such numbers as to render treachery impossible, if it had been intended.

Then, for the first time, did Sir Yvo turn his eyes toward the intruder, who stood at the farther end of the hall, irresolute how to act, with his men clustered in a sullen group behind him, and the prisoner Kenric held firmly by the shoulders by two stout troopers.

"Ha! Sir Foulke d'Oilly," he said, with a slight inclination of his head. "To what do I owe the honor of receiving that noble baron in my poor manor of Kendal; and wherefore, if he come in courtesy and peace, do I not meet him rather in my own castle of Hawkshead, where I might show him fitting courtesy, than in this smoky den, fitter for Saxon churls than Norman nobles?"

"To be brief, my lord," replied d'Oilly, with a voice half conciliatory, half defiant, "I came neither in enmity, nor yet in courtesy, but to reclaim and seize my fugitive villeyn yonder, Eadwulf the Red, who hath not only killed deer in my chase of Fenton in the Forest, but hath murdered my bailiff of Waltheofstow, and now hath fled from me, against my will; and I find him here, hidden in an out corner of this your manor of Kentmere, in Kendal."

"There is some error here, Sir Foulke," said De Taillebois, firmly. "That man, whom I see some one hath brutally misused, of which more anon, is not called Eadwulf at all, but Kenric. Nor is he your serf, fair sir, nor any man's serf at all, or villeyn, but a free Englishman, as any who stands on this floor. I myself purchased and manumitted him in this July last past, for that he saved the life of my child, the Lady Guendolen, at risk of his own. Of this I pledge my honor, as belted knight and Norman noble."

"I know the fellow very well, Sir Yvo," answered the other, doggedly. "Four or five of my men here can swear to the knave; and we have proof positive that he is the man who shot a deer about daybreak, and murdered my bailiff on the thirteenth day of September last, in my forest between the meres of Thurgoland and Bolterstone, in Sherwood."

"The thirteenth day of last September?" said De Taillebois, thoughtfully. "Ha! Aradas, Fitz Adhelm, was't not on that day we ran the big mouse-colored hart royal, with the black talbots, from high Yewdale, past Grisdale pike, to the skirts of Skiddaw?"

"Surely it was, Sir Yvo," answered both the gentlemen in a breath.

"There is some error here, Sir Foulke," repeated the Sheriff, "but the law will decide it. And now, speaking of the law, Sir Baron, may I crave, by what right, or form of law, you have laid hands on this man, within the jurisdiction of my manor, and under the shadow of night? I say, by what warrant have you done this?"

"By the same right, and form, and warrant, by which, wherever I find my stolen goods, there I seize them! By the best law of right; that is, the law of might."

"The law of might has failed you, for this time, Sir Foulke."

"That is to say, you being stronger, at this present time, than I, will not allow me to carry off my villeyn, whom I have justly seized."

"Whom you have most unjustly, most illegally, seized, Sir Foulke. You know, as well as I, or ought to know, that if you proceed by seizure, it must be upon oath; and none can seize within this shire, but I, the sheriff of it. Or if you proceed by writ _de nativo habendo_, no one can serve that writ, within this shire, but I, the sheriff of it. What! when a man can not seize and sell an ox or an ass, that is claimed by another, without due process of law, shall he seize and take, that which is the dearest thing any man hath, even as dear as the breath of his nostrils, his right to himself, his liberty, without any form at all? No, Sir Foulke, no! Our English law presumes every man free, till he be proved a slave; and no man, who claims freedom, can be deprived of freedom, no, not by my lord the King himself in counsel, except upon the verdict of an English jury. But do I understand aright? Does this man Eadwulf, or Kenric, claim to be free, or confess himself to be a villeyn?"

"I claim to be a freeman, Sir Yvo; and I demand liberty to prove it," cried Kenric. "I warned Sir Foulke d'Oilly, when he seized me in my cottage by Kentmere, as I can prove by the boy Gilbert, that I am a freeman, and that were I a villeyn and a fugitive, to make a true seizure, it must be made by the sheriff."

"Ha! thou didst--didst thou. Thou art learned in the law, it seems."

"It behooves an Englishman, beausire, to know the law by which to guard his liberty, seeing that it is the dearest thing he hath, under Heaven. But I am not learned; only I had good advice."

"So it seems. And you deny to be a villeyn, and claim to prove your liberty?"

"Before God, I do, and your worship."

"Summon my bailiff, Aradas; he is a justice of peace for the county, and will tell us what is needed. I will give you this benefit, Sir Foulke, though you are in no wise entitled to it. Because it is on my own ground, and on the person of my own man, you have made this seizure, I will allow it to stand good, as if made legally, in due form. Had it been made elsewhere, within the county, I would have held it null, and committed you for false imprisonment, and breach of the King's peace. But no man shall say I avenge my own private griefs by power of my office. Now, bailiff, art thou there?"

"So please you, Sir Yvo, I have been here all the evening, and am possessed of the whole case."

"Well, then, what needs this man Kenric?"

"A writ, my lord, _de libertate probanda_. I have it here, ready."

"Recite it to us then, in God's name, and make service of it; for I am waxing weary of this matter."

Thus exhorted, the bailiff lifted up his voice and read, pompously but distinctly, the following form; and then, bowing low, handed it to the sheriff, calling on two of the men-at-arms, whose names were subscribed, to witness the service:

"King Henry II. to the Sheriff of Lancaster and Westmoreland, greeting--Kenric, the son of Werewulf, of Kentmere, in Westmoreland, has showed to us, that whereas he is a free man, and ready to prove his liberty, Sir Foulke d'Oilly, knight and baron of Waltheofstow and Fenton in the Forest of Sherwood, in Yorkshire, claiming him to be his nief, unjustly vexes him; and therefore we command you, that if the aforesaid Kenric shall make you secure touching the proving of his liberty, then put that plea before our justices, at the first assizes, when they shall come into those parts, to wit, in our good city of Lancaster, on the first day of December next ensuing, because proof of this kind belongeth not to you to take; and in the mean time cause the said Kenric to have peace thereupon, and tell the aforesaid Sir Foulke d'Oilly that he may be there, if he will, to prosecute thereof, against the aforesaid Kenric. And have there this writ.

"_Witness_: { WILLIAM FITZ ADHELM. { HUGO LE NORMAN.

"This tenth day of October, in the year of Grace, 1184. Kendal, county of Westmoreland."

"Well, there is a bail-bond needed, is there not, bailiff?"

"It is here, sir. William Fitz Adhelm, knight, and Aradas de Ratcliffe, esquire, both of the county of Westmoreland, are herein bound, jointly and severally, in the sum of two thousand marks, that Kenric, as aforesaid, shall appear at the Lancaster assizes next ensuing, and show cause why he is a freeman, and not a villeyn, as claimed, of Sir Foulke d'Oilly, as aforesaid. This is according to the law of England, and Kenric may go his way until the time of the assize, none hindering him in his lawful business."

"Therefore," said Sir Yvo de Taillebois, "I will pray Sir Foulke d'Oilly to command his vassals, that they release the man Kenric forthwith, nor force me to rescue him by the strong hand."

D'Oilly, who, during all these proceedings, to which, however unwilling, he was compelled to listen without resistance, had sat on the settle in the chimney corner, in a lounging attitude, gazing into the ashes of the wood fire, and affecting to hear nothing that was passing, rose to his feet sullenly, shook himself, till every link of his mail clashed and rang, and uttered, in a tone more like the short roar of a disappointed lion than the voice of a man, the one word, "_Lachez!_" Then turning to Sir Yvo, he said--

"And now, sir, I suppose that I, too, like this Saxon cur, about whom there has been so much pother, may go about my lawful business, none hindering me."

"So much so, Sir Foulke, that if you will do me the favor to order your horses, I will mount on the instant, and escort you to the boundary of the shire. You, Kenric, tarry here with my harbinger, and get yourself into more fitting guise to return to the castle. Now, master bailiff, in quality of host, can you not find a flask of something choicer than your ale and metheglin? Ha! wine of Anjou! This will wash the cobwebs of the law out of my gullet, rarely. I was nigh choked with them, by St. Agatha! Sir Foulke, I hear your horses stamping at the door. Will it please you, mount? It draws nigh to morning."

"I will mount," he replied fiercely, "when I am ready; and so give you short thanks for scanty courtesy."

"The less we say, I think, about courtesy, Sir Foulke d'Oilly, the better," said Sir Yvo, sternly; "for courtesy is not, nor ever can be, between us two, until I am certified how my dear friend and comrade in arms, Sir Philip de Morville, came by his death in Sherwood Forest."

The baron glared at him fiercely under the rim of his raised avantaille; then dashed the vizor down over his scowling features, that none might read their fell expression; clinched his gauntleted hand, and dashed it against the shield which hung about his neck, in impotent fury. But he spoke no word more, till they parted, without salutation or defiance, on a bare moor, where the three shires of York, Lancaster, and Westmoreland, meet, at the county stone, under the looming mountain masses of Whernside.