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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Outlaw of Torn, by Edgar Rice Burroughs
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Outlaw of Torn
+
+Author: Edgar Rice Burroughs
+
+Release Date: July 8, 2008 [EBook #369]
+Last updated: February 12, 2012
+Last updated: August 31, 2012
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE OUTLAW OF TORN ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Judith Boss
+
+
+
+
+
+THE OUTLAW OF TORN
+
+By Edgar Rice Burroughs
+
+
+To My Friend
+
+JOSEPH E. BRAY
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+Here is a story that has lain dormant for seven hundred years. At first
+it was suppressed by one of the Plantagenet kings of England. Later it
+was forgotten. I happened to dig it up by accident. The accident being
+the relationship of my wife's cousin to a certain Father Superior in a
+very ancient monastery in Europe.
+
+He let me pry about among a quantity of mildewed and musty manuscripts
+and I came across this. It is very interesting--partially since it is a
+bit of hitherto unrecorded history, but principally from the fact that
+it records the story of a most remarkable revenge and the adventurous
+life of its innocent victim--Richard, the lost prince of England.
+
+In the retelling of it, I have left out most of the history. What
+interested me was the unique character about whom the tale revolves--the
+visored horseman who--but let us wait until we get to him.
+
+It all happened in the thirteenth century, and while it was happening,
+it shook England from north to south and from east to west; and reached
+across the channel and shook France. It started, directly, in the London
+palace of Henry III, and was the result of a quarrel between the King
+and his powerful brother-in-law, Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester.
+
+Never mind the quarrel, that's history, and you can read all about it at
+your leisure. But on this June day in the year of our Lord 1243, Henry
+so forgot himself as to very unjustly accuse De Montfort of treason in
+the presence of a number of the King's gentlemen.
+
+De Montfort paled. He was a tall, handsome man, and when he drew himself
+to his full height and turned those gray eyes on the victim of his
+wrath, as he did that day, he was very imposing. A power in England,
+second only to the King himself, and with the heart of a lion in him, he
+answered the King as no other man in all England would have dared answer
+him.
+
+"My Lord King," he cried, "that you be my Lord King alone prevents Simon
+de Montfort from demanding satisfaction for such a gross insult. That
+you take advantage of your kingship to say what you would never dare say
+were you not king, brands me not a traitor, though it does brand you a
+coward."
+
+Tense silence fell upon the little company of lords and courtiers as
+these awful words fell from the lips of a subject, addressed to his
+king. They were horrified, for De Montfort's bold challenge was to them
+but little short of sacrilege.
+
+Henry, flushing in mortification and anger, rose to advance upon De
+Montfort, but suddenly recollecting the power which he represented, he
+thought better of whatever action he contemplated and, with a haughty
+sneer, turned to his courtiers.
+
+"Come, my gentlemen," he said, "methought that we were to have a turn
+with the foils this morning. Already it waxeth late. Come, De Fulm! Come,
+Leybourn!" and the King left the apartment followed by his gentlemen,
+all of whom had drawn away from the Earl of Leicester when it became
+apparent that the royal displeasure was strong against him. As the
+arras fell behind the departing King, De Montfort shrugged his broad
+shoulders, and turning, left the apartment by another door.
+
+When the King, with his gentlemen, entered the armory he was still
+smarting from the humiliation of De Montfort's reproaches, and as he
+laid aside his surcoat and plumed hat to take the foils with De Fulm,
+his eyes alighted on the master of fence, Sir Jules de Vac, who was
+advancing with the King's foil and helmet. Henry felt in no mood for
+fencing with De Fulm, who, like the other sycophants that surrounded
+him, always allowed the King easily to best him in every encounter.
+
+De Vac he knew to be too jealous of his fame as a swordsman to permit
+himself to be overcome by aught but superior skill, and this day Henry
+felt that he could best the devil himself.
+
+The armory was a great room on the main floor of the palace, off the
+guard room. It was built in a small wing of the building so that it
+had light from three sides. In charge of it was the lean, grizzled,
+leather-skinned Sir Jules de Vac, and it was he whom Henry commanded to
+face him in mimic combat with the foils, for the King wished to go with
+hammer and tongs at someone to vent his suppressed rage.
+
+So he let De Vac assume to his mind's eye the person of the hated De
+Montfort, and it followed that De Vac was nearly surprised into an early
+and mortifying defeat by the King's sudden and clever attack.
+
+Henry III had always been accounted a good swordsman, but that day
+he quite outdid himself and, in his imagination, was about to run
+the pseudo De Montfort through the heart, to the wild acclaim of his
+audience. For this fell purpose he had backed the astounded De Vac twice
+around the hall when, with a clever feint, and backward step, the master
+of fence drew the King into the position he wanted him, and with the
+suddenness of lightning, a little twist of his foil sent Henry's weapon
+clanging across the floor of the armory.
+
+For an instant, the King stood as tense and white as though the hand of
+death had reached out and touched his heart with its icy fingers.
+The episode meant more to him than being bested in play by the best
+swordsman in England--for that surely was no disgrace--to Henry it
+seemed prophetic of the outcome of a future struggle when he should
+stand face to face with the real De Montfort; and then, seeing in De
+Vac only the creature of his imagination with which he had vested the
+likeness of his powerful brother-in-law, Henry did what he should like
+to have done to the real Leicester. Drawing off his gauntlet he advanced
+close to De Vac.
+
+"Dog!" he hissed, and struck the master of fence a stinging blow across
+the face, and spat upon him. Then he turned on his heel and strode from
+the armory.
+
+De Vac had grown old in the service of the kings of England, but he
+hated all things English and all Englishmen. The dead King John, though
+hated by all others, he had loved, but with the dead King's bones De
+Vac's loyalty to the house he served had been buried in the Cathedral of
+Worcester.
+
+During the years he had served as master of fence at the English Court,
+the sons of royalty had learned to thrust and parry and cut as only
+De Vac could teach the art, and he had been as conscientious in the
+discharge of his duties as he had been in his unswerving hatred and
+contempt for his pupils.
+
+And now the English King had put upon him such an insult as might only
+be wiped out by blood.
+
+As the blow fell, the wiry Frenchman clicked his heels together, and
+throwing down his foil, he stood erect and rigid as a marble statue
+before his master. White and livid was his tense drawn face, but he
+spoke no word.
+
+He might have struck the King, but then there would have been left to
+him no alternative save death by his own hand; for a king may not fight
+with a lesser mortal, and he who strikes a king may not live--the king's
+honor must be satisfied.
+
+Had a French king struck him, De Vac would have struck back, and gloried
+in the fate which permitted him to die for the honor of France; but an
+English King--pooh! a dog; and who would die for a dog? No, De Vac would
+find other means of satisfying his wounded pride. He would revel in
+revenge against this man for whom he felt no loyalty. If possible, he
+would harm the whole of England if he could, but he would bide his time.
+He could afford to wait for his opportunity if, by waiting, he could
+encompass a more terrible revenge.
+
+De Vac had been born in Paris, the son of a French officer reputed the
+best swordsman in France. The son had followed closely in the footsteps
+of his father until, on the latter's death, he could easily claim the
+title of his sire. How he had left France and entered the service of
+John of England is not of this story. All the bearing that the life of
+Jules de Vac has upon the history of England hinges upon but two of his
+many attributes--his wonderful swordsmanship and his fearful hatred for
+his adopted country.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+South of the armory of Westminster Palace lay the gardens, and here, on
+the third day following the King's affront to De Vac, might have been a
+seen a black-haired woman gowned in a violet cyclas, richly embroidered
+with gold about the yoke and at the bottom of the loose-pointed sleeves,
+which reached almost to the similar bordering on the lower hem of the
+garment. A richly wrought leathern girdle, studded with precious stones,
+and held in place by a huge carved buckle of gold, clasped the garment
+about her waist so that the upper portion fell outward over the girdle
+after the manner of a blouse. In the girdle was a long dagger of
+beautiful workmanship. Dainty sandals encased her feet, while a wimple
+of violet silk bordered in gold fringe, lay becomingly over her head and
+shoulders.
+
+By her side walked a handsome boy of about three, clad, like his
+companion, in gay colors. His tiny surcoat of scarlet velvet was rich
+with embroidery, while beneath was a close-fitting tunic of white
+silk. His doublet was of scarlet, while his long hose of white were
+cross-gartered with scarlet from his tiny sandals to his knees. On the
+back of his brown curls sat a flat-brimmed, round-crowned hat in which a
+single plume of white waved and nodded bravely at each move of the proud
+little head.
+
+The child's features were well molded, and his frank, bright eyes gave
+an expression of boyish generosity to a face which otherwise would have
+been too arrogant and haughty for such a mere baby. As he talked with
+his companion, little flashes of peremptory authority and dignity, which
+sat strangely upon one so tiny, caused the young woman at times to
+turn her head from him that he might not see the smiles which she could
+scarce repress.
+
+Presently the boy took a ball from his tunic, and, pointing at a little
+bush near them, said, "Stand you there, Lady Maud, by yonder bush. I
+would play at toss."
+
+The young woman did as she was bid, and when she had taken her place
+and turned to face him the boy threw the ball to her. Thus they played
+beneath the windows of the armory, the boy running blithely after the
+ball when he missed it, and laughing and shouting in happy glee when he
+made a particularly good catch.
+
+In one of the windows of the armory overlooking the garden stood a grim,
+gray, old man, leaning upon his folded arms, his brows drawn together in
+a malignant scowl, the corners of his mouth set in a stern, cold line.
+
+He looked upon the garden and the playing child, and upon the lovely
+young woman beneath him, but with eyes which did not see, for De Vac was
+working out a great problem, the greatest of all his life.
+
+For three days, the old man had brooded over his grievance, seeking for
+some means to be revenged upon the King for the insult which Henry had
+put upon him. Many schemes had presented themselves to his shrewd
+and cunning mind, but so far all had been rejected as unworthy of the
+terrible satisfaction which his wounded pride demanded.
+
+His fancies had, for the most part, revolved about the unsettled
+political conditions of Henry's reign, for from these he felt he might
+wrest that opportunity which could be turned to his own personal uses
+and to the harm, and possibly the undoing, of the King.
+
+For years an inmate of the palace, and often a listener in the armory
+when the King played at sword with his friends and favorites, De Vac had
+heard much which passed between Henry III and his intimates that could
+well be turned to the King's harm by a shrewd and resourceful enemy.
+
+With all England, he knew the utter contempt in which Henry held the
+terms of the Magna Charta which he so often violated along with his
+kingly oath to maintain it. But what all England did not know, De Vac
+had gleaned from scraps of conversation dropped in the armory: that
+Henry was even now negotiating with the leaders of foreign mercenaries,
+and with Louis IX of France, for a sufficient force of knights and
+men-at-arms to wage a relentless war upon his own barons that he might
+effectively put a stop to all future interference by them with the royal
+prerogative of the Plantagenets to misrule England.
+
+If he could but learn the details of this plan, thought De Vac: the
+point of landing of the foreign troops; their numbers; the first point
+of attack. Ah, would it not be sweet revenge indeed to balk the King in
+this venture so dear to his heart!
+
+A word to De Clare, or De Montfort would bring the barons and their
+retainers forty thousand strong to overwhelm the King's forces.
+
+And he would let the King know to whom, and for what cause, he was
+beholden for his defeat and discomfiture. Possibly the barons would
+depose Henry, and place a new king upon England's throne, and then De
+Vac would mock the Plantagenet to his face. Sweet, kind, delectable
+vengeance, indeed! And the old man licked his thin lips as though to
+taste the last sweet vestige of some dainty morsel.
+
+And then Chance carried a little leather ball beneath the window where
+the old man stood; and as the child ran, laughing, to recover it, De
+Vac's eyes fell upon him, and his former plan for revenge melted as the
+fog before the noonday sun; and in its stead there opened to him the
+whole hideous plot of fearsome vengeance as clearly as it were writ upon
+the leaves of a great book that had been thrown wide before him. And,
+in so far as he could direct, he varied not one jot from the details
+of that vividly conceived masterpiece of hellishness during the twenty
+years which followed.
+
+The little boy who so innocently played in the garden of his royal
+father was Prince Richard, the three-year-old son of Henry III of
+England. No published history mentions this little lost prince; only the
+secret archives of the kings of England tell the story of his strange
+and adventurous life. His name has been blotted from the records of men;
+and the revenge of De Vac has passed from the eyes of the world; though
+in his time it was a real and terrible thing in the hearts of the
+English.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+For nearly a month, the old man haunted the palace, and watched in the
+gardens for the little Prince until he knew the daily routine of his
+tiny life with his nurses and governesses.
+
+He saw that when the Lady Maud accompanied him, they were wont to repair
+to the farthermost extremities of the palace grounds where, by a little
+postern gate, she admitted a certain officer of the Guards to whom the
+Queen had forbidden the privilege of the court.
+
+There, in a secluded bower, the two lovers whispered their hopes and
+plans, unmindful of the royal charge playing neglected among the flowers
+and shrubbery of the garden.
+
+Toward the middle of July De Vac had his plans well laid. He had managed
+to coax old Brus, the gardener, into letting him have the key to the
+little postern gate on the plea that he wished to indulge in a midnight
+escapade, hinting broadly of a fair lady who was to be the partner of
+his adventure, and, what was more to the point with Brus, at the same
+time slipping a couple of golden zecchins into the gardener's palm.
+
+Brus, like the other palace servants, considered De Vac a loyal retainer
+of the house of Plantagenet. Whatever else of mischief De Vac might be
+up to, Brus was quite sure that in so far as the King was concerned, the
+key to the postern gate was as safe in De Vac's hands as though Henry
+himself had it.
+
+The old fellow wondered a little that the morose old master of fence
+should, at his time in life, indulge in frivolous escapades more
+befitting the younger sprigs of gentility, but, then, what concern was
+it of his? Did he not have enough to think about to keep the gardens
+so that his royal master and mistress might find pleasure in the shaded
+walks, the well-kept sward, and the gorgeous beds of foliage plants and
+blooming flowers which he set with such wondrous precision in the formal
+garden?
+
+Further, two gold zecchins were not often come by so easily as this;
+and if the dear Lord Jesus saw fit, in his infinite wisdom, to take this
+means of rewarding his poor servant, it ill became such a worm as he to
+ignore the divine favor. So Brus took the gold zecchins and De Vac the
+key, and the little prince played happily among the flowers of his royal
+father's garden, and all were satisfied; which was as it should have
+been.
+
+That night, De Vac took the key to a locksmith on the far side of
+London; one who could not possibly know him or recognize the key
+as belonging to the palace. Here he had a duplicate made, waiting
+impatiently while the old man fashioned it with the crude instruments of
+his time.
+
+From this little shop, De Vac threaded his way through the dirty lanes
+and alleys of ancient London, lighted at far intervals by an occasional
+smoky lantern, until he came to a squalid tenement but a short distance
+from the palace.
+
+A narrow alley ran past the building, ending abruptly at the bank of the
+Thames in a moldering wooden dock, beneath which the inky waters of the
+river rose and fell, lapping the decaying piles and surging far beneath
+the dock to the remote fastnesses inhabited by the great fierce dock
+rats and their fiercer human antitypes.
+
+Several times De Vac paced the length of this black alley in search of
+the little doorway of the building he sought. At length he came upon it,
+and, after repeated pounding with the pommel of his sword, it was opened
+by a slatternly old hag.
+
+"What would ye of a decent woman at such an ungodly hour?" she grumbled.
+"Ah, 'tis ye, my lord?" she added, hastily, as the flickering rays of
+the candle she bore lighted up De Vac's face. "Welcome, my Lord, thrice
+welcome. The daughter of the devil welcomes her brother."
+
+"Silence, old hag," cried De Vac. "Is it not enough that you leech me
+of good marks of such a quantity that you may ever after wear mantles
+of villosa and feast on simnel bread and malmsey, that you must needs
+burden me still further with the affliction of thy vile tongue?
+
+"Hast thou the clothes ready bundled and the key, also, to this gate
+to perdition? And the room: didst set to rights the furnishings I had
+delivered here, and sweep the century-old accumulation of filth and
+cobwebs from the floor and rafters? Why, the very air reeked of the dead
+Romans who builded London twelve hundred years ago. Methinks, too, from
+the stink, they must have been Roman swineherd who habited this sty with
+their herds, an' I venture that thou, old sow, hast never touched broom
+to the place for fear of disturbing the ancient relics of thy kin."
+
+"Cease thy babbling, Lord Satan," cried the woman. "I would rather hear
+thy money talk than thou, for though it come accursed and tainted from
+thy rogue hand, yet it speaks with the same sweet and commanding voice
+as it were fresh from the coffers of the holy church.
+
+"The bundle is ready," she continued, closing the door after De Vac, who
+had now entered, "and here be the key; but first let us have a payment.
+I know not what thy foul work may be, but foul it is I know from the
+secrecy which you have demanded, an' I dare say there will be some who
+would pay well to learn the whereabouts of the old woman and the child,
+thy sister and her son you tell me they be, who you are so anxious to
+hide away in old Til's garret. So it be well for you, my Lord, to pay
+old Til well and add a few guilders for the peace of her tongue if you
+would that your prisoner find peace in old Til's house."
+
+"Fetch me the bundle, hag," replied De Vac, "and you shall have gold
+against a final settlement; more even than we bargained for if all goes
+well and thou holdest thy vile tongue."
+
+But the old woman's threats had already caused De Vac a feeling of
+uneasiness, which would have been reflected to an exaggerated degree in
+the old woman had she known the determination her words had caused in
+the mind of the old master of fence.
+
+His venture was far too serious, and the results of exposure too
+fraught with danger, to permit of his taking any chances with a disloyal
+fellow-conspirator. True, he had not even hinted at the enormity of the
+plot in which he was involving the old woman, but, as she had said, his
+stern commands for secrecy had told enough to arouse her suspicions, and
+with them her curiosity and cupidity. So it was that old Til might well
+have quailed in her tattered sandals had she but even vaguely guessed
+the thoughts which passed in De Vac's mind; but the extra gold pieces
+he dropped into her withered palm as she delivered the bundle to him,
+together with the promise of more, quite effectually won her loyalty and
+her silence for the time being.
+
+Slipping the key into the pocket of his tunic and covering the bundle
+with his long surcoat, De Vac stepped out into the darkness of the alley
+and hastened toward the dock.
+
+Beneath the planks he found a skiff which he had moored there earlier
+in the evening, and underneath one of the thwarts he hid the bundle.
+Then, casting off, he rowed slowly up the Thames until, below the palace
+walls, he moored near to the little postern gate which let into the
+lower end of the garden.
+
+Hiding the skiff as best he could in some tangled bushes which grew to
+the water's edge, set there by order of the King to add to the beauty of
+the aspect from the river side, De Vac crept warily to the postern and,
+unchallenged, entered and sought his apartments in the palace.
+
+The next day, he returned the original key to Brus, telling the old man
+that he had not used it after all, since mature reflection had convinced
+him of the folly of his contemplated adventure, especially in one whose
+youth was past, and in whose joints the night damp of the Thames might
+find lodgement for rheumatism.
+
+"Ha, Sir Jules," laughed the old gardener, "Virtue and Vice be twin
+sisters who come running to do the bidding of the same father, Desire.
+Were there no desire there would be no virtue, and because one man
+desires what another does not, who shall say whether the child of his
+desire be vice or virtue? Or on the other hand if my friend desires his
+own wife and if that be virtue, then if I also desire his wife, is not
+that likewise virtue, since we desire the same thing? But if to obtain
+our desire it be necessary to expose our joints to the Thames' fog, then
+it were virtue to remain at home."
+
+"Right you sound, old mole," said De Vac, smiling, "would that I might
+learn to reason by your wondrous logic; methinks it might stand me in
+good stead before I be much older."
+
+"The best sword arm in all Christendom needs no other logic than the
+sword, I should think," said Brus, returning to his work.
+
+That afternoon, De Vac stood in a window of the armory looking out
+upon the beautiful garden which spread before him to the river wall two
+hundred yards away. In the foreground were box-bordered walks, smooth,
+sleek lawns, and formal beds of gorgeous flowering plants, while here
+and there marble statues of wood nymph and satyr gleamed, sparkling in
+the brilliant sunlight, or, half shaded by an overhanging bush, took
+on a semblance of life from the riotous play of light and shadow as the
+leaves above them moved to and fro in the faint breeze. Farther in the
+distance, the river wall was hidden by more closely massed bushes, and
+the formal, geometric precision of the nearer view was relieved by a
+background of vine-colored bowers, and a profusion of small trees and
+flowering shrubs arranged in studied disorder.
+
+Through this seeming jungle ran tortuous paths, and the carved stone
+benches of the open garden gave place to rustic seats, and swings
+suspended from the branches of fruit trees.
+
+Toward this enchanting spot slowly were walking the Lady Maud and her
+little charge, Prince Richard; all ignorant of the malicious watcher in
+the window behind them.
+
+A great peacock strutted proudly across the walk before them, and, as
+Richard ran, childlike, after it, Lady Maud hastened on to the little
+postern gate which she quickly unlocked, admitting her lover, who had
+been waiting without. Relocking the gate the two strolled arm in arm to
+the little bower which was their trysting place.
+
+As the lovers talked, all self-engrossed, the little Prince played
+happily about among the trees and flowers, and none saw the stern,
+determined face which peered through the foliage at a little distance
+from the playing boy.
+
+Richard was devoting his royal energies to chasing an elusive butterfly
+which fate led nearer and nearer to the cold, hard watcher in the
+bushes. Closer and closer came the little Prince, and in another
+moment, he had burst through the flowering shrubs, and stood facing the
+implacable master of fence.
+
+"Your Highness," said De Vac, bowing to the little fellow, "let old
+DeVac help you catch the pretty insect."
+
+Richard, having often seen De Vac, did not fear him, and so together
+they started in pursuit of the butterfly which by now had passed out
+of sight. De Vac turned their steps toward the little postern gate,
+but when he would have passed through with the tiny Prince, the latter
+rebelled.
+
+"Come, My Lord Prince," urged De Vac, "methinks the butterfly did but
+alight without the wall, we can have it and return within the garden in
+an instant."
+
+"Go thyself and fetch it," replied the Prince; "the King, my father, has
+forbid me stepping without the palace grounds."
+
+"Come," commanded De Vac, more sternly, "no harm can come to you."
+
+But the child hung back and would not go with him so that De Vac was
+forced to grasp him roughly by the arm. There was a cry of rage and
+alarm from the royal child.
+
+"Unhand me, sirrah," screamed the boy. "How dare you lay hands on a
+prince of England?"
+
+De Vac clapped his hand over the child's mouth to still his cries,
+but it was too late. The Lady Maud and her lover had heard and, in an
+instant, they were rushing toward the postern gate, the officer drawing
+his sword as he ran.
+
+When they reached the wall, De Vac and the Prince were upon the outside,
+and the Frenchman had closed and was endeavoring to lock the gate.
+But, handicapped by the struggling boy, he had not time to turn the key
+before the officer threw himself against the panels and burst out before
+the master of fence, closely followed by the Lady Maud.
+
+De Vac dropped the key and, still grasping the now thoroughly
+affrightened Prince with his left hand, drew his sword and confronted
+the officer.
+
+There were no words, there was no need of words; De Vac's intentions
+were too plain to necessitate any parley, so the two fell upon each
+other with grim fury; the brave officer facing the best swordsman that
+France had ever produced in a futile attempt to rescue his young prince.
+
+In a moment, De Vac had disarmed him, but, contrary to the laws of
+chivalry, he did not lower his point until it had first plunged through
+the heart of his brave antagonist. Then, with a bound, he leaped between
+Lady Maud and the gate, so that she could not retreat into the garden
+and give the alarm.
+
+Still grasping the trembling child in his iron grip, he stood facing the
+lady in waiting, his back against the door.
+
+"Mon Dieu, Sir Jules," she cried, "hast thou gone mad?"
+
+"No, My Lady," he answered, "but I had not thought to do the work which
+now lies before me. Why didst thou not keep a still tongue in thy head
+and let his patron saint look after the welfare of this princeling? Your
+rashness has brought you to a pretty pass, for it must be either you or
+I, My Lady, and it cannot be I. Say thy prayers and compose thyself for
+death."
+
+Henry III, King of England, sat in his council chamber surrounded by
+the great lords and nobles who composed his suit. He awaited Simon de
+Montfort, Earl of Leicester, whom he had summoned that he might heap
+still further indignities upon him with the intention of degrading and
+humiliating him that he might leave England forever. The King feared
+this mighty kinsman who so boldly advised him against the weak follies
+which were bringing his kingdom to a condition of revolution.
+
+What the outcome of this audience would have been none may say, for
+Leicester had but just entered and saluted his sovereign when there came
+an interruption which drowned the petty wrangles of king and courtier in
+a common affliction that touched the hearts of all.
+
+There was a commotion at one side of the room, the arras parted, and
+Eleanor, Queen of England, staggered toward the throne, tears streaming
+down her pale cheeks.
+
+"Oh, My Lord! My Lord!" she cried, "Richard, our son, has been
+assassinated and thrown into the Thames."
+
+In an instant, all was confusion and turmoil, and it was with the
+greatest difficulty that the King finally obtained a coherent statement
+from his queen.
+
+It seemed that when the Lady Maud had not returned to the palace with
+Prince Richard at the proper time, the Queen had been notified and an
+immediate search had been instituted--a search which did not end for
+over twenty years; but the first fruits of it turned the hearts of the
+court to stone, for there beside the open postern gate lay the dead
+bodies of Lady Maud and a certain officer of the Guards, but nowhere
+was there a sign or trace of Prince Richard, second son of Henry III of
+England, and at that time the youngest prince of the realm.
+
+It was two days before the absence of De Vac was noted, and then it was
+that one of the lords in waiting to the King reminded his majesty of
+the episode of the fencing bout, and a motive for the abduction of the
+King's little son became apparent.
+
+An edict was issued requiring the examination of every child in England,
+for on the left breast of the little Prince was a birthmark which
+closely resembled a lily and, when after a year no child was found
+bearing such a mark and no trace of De Vac uncovered, the search was
+carried into France, nor was it ever wholly relinquished at any time for
+more than twenty years.
+
+The first theory, of assassination, was quickly abandoned when it was
+subjected to the light of reason, for it was evident that an assassin
+could have dispatched the little Prince at the same time that he killed
+the Lady Maud and her lover, had such been his desire.
+
+The most eager factor in the search for Prince Richard was Simon de
+Montfort, Earl of Leicester, whose affection for his royal nephew had
+always been so marked as to have been commented upon by the members of
+the King's household.
+
+Thus for a time the rupture between De Montfort and his king was
+healed, and although the great nobleman was divested of his authority in
+Gascony, he suffered little further oppression at the hands of his royal
+master.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+As De Vac drew his sword from the heart of the Lady Maud, he winced,
+for, merciless though he was, he had shrunk from this cruel task. Too
+far he had gone, however, to back down now, and, had he left the Lady
+Maud alive, the whole of the palace guard and all the city of London
+would have been on his heels in ten minutes; there would have been no
+escape.
+
+The little Prince was now so terrified that he could but tremble and
+whimper in his fright. So fearful was he of the terrible De Vac that a
+threat of death easily stilled his tongue, and so the grim, old man led
+him to the boat hidden deep in the dense bushes.
+
+De Vac did not dare remain in this retreat until dark, as he had first
+intended. Instead, he drew a dingy, ragged dress from the bundle beneath
+the thwart and in this disguised himself as an old woman, drawing a
+cotton wimple low over his head and forehead to hide his short hair.
+Concealing the child beneath the other articles of clothing, he pushed
+off from the bank, and, rowing close to the shore, hastened down the
+Thames toward the old dock where, the previous night, he had concealed
+his skiff. He reached his destination unnoticed, and, running in beneath
+the dock, worked the boat far into the dark recess of the cave-like
+retreat.
+
+Here he determined to hide until darkness had fallen, for he knew that
+the search would be on for the little lost Prince at any moment, and
+that none might traverse the streets of London without being subject to
+the closest scrutiny.
+
+Taking advantage of the forced wait, De Vac undressed the Prince and
+clothed him in other garments, which had been wrapped in the bundle
+hidden beneath the thwart; a little red cotton tunic with hose to match,
+a black doublet and a tiny leather jerkin and leather cap.
+
+The discarded clothing of the Prince he wrapped about a huge stone torn
+from the disintegrating masonry of the river wall, and consigned the
+bundle to the voiceless river.
+
+The Prince had by now regained some of his former assurance and,
+finding that De Vac seemed not to intend harming him, the little fellow
+commenced questioning his grim companion, his childish wonder at this
+strange adventure getting the better of his former apprehension.
+
+"What do we here, Sir Jules?" he asked. "Take me back to the King's, my
+father's palace. I like not this dark hole nor the strange garments you
+have placed upon me."
+
+"Silence, boy!" commanded the old man. "Sir Jules be dead, nor are you
+a king's son. Remember these two things well, nor ever again let me hear
+you speak the name Sir Jules, or call yourself a prince."
+
+The boy went silent, again cowed by the fierce tone of his captor.
+Presently he began to whimper, for he was tired and hungry and
+frightened--just a poor little baby, helpless and hopeless in the hands
+of this cruel enemy--all his royalty as nothing, all gone with the
+silken finery which lay in the thick mud at the bottom of the Thames,
+and presently he dropped into a fitful sleep in the bottom of the skiff.
+
+When darkness had settled, De Vac pushed the skiff outward to the
+side of the dock and, gathering the sleeping child in his arms, stood
+listening, preparatory to mounting to the alley which led to old Til's
+place.
+
+As he stood thus, a faint sound of clanking armor came to his attentive
+ears; louder and louder it grew until there could be no doubt but that a
+number of men were approaching.
+
+De Vac resumed his place in the skiff, and again drew it far beneath
+the dock. Scarcely had he done so ere a party of armored knights and
+men-at-arms clanked out upon the planks above him from the mouth of the
+dark alley. Here they stopped as though for consultation and plainly
+could the listener below hear every word of their conversation.
+
+"De Montfort," said one, "what thinkest thou of it? Can it be that the
+Queen is right and that Richard lies dead beneath these black waters?"
+
+"No, De Clare," replied a deep voice, which De Vac recognized as that of
+the Earl of Leicester. "The hand that could steal the Prince from out of
+the very gardens of his sire without the knowledge of Lady Maud or her
+companion, which must evidently have been the case, could more easily
+and safely have dispatched him within the gardens had that been the
+object of this strange attack. I think, My Lord, that presently we shall
+hear from some bold adventurer who holds the little Prince for
+ransom. God give that such may be the case, for of all the winsome and
+affectionate little fellows I have ever seen, not even excepting mine
+own dear son, the little Richard was the most to be beloved. Would that
+I might get my hands upon the foul devil who has done this horrid deed."
+
+Beneath the planks, not four feet from where Leicester stood, lay the
+object of his search. The clanking armor, the heavy spurred feet, and
+the voices above him had awakened the little Prince and, with a startled
+cry, he sat upright in the bottom of the skiff. Instantly De Vac's iron
+band clapped over the tiny mouth, but not before a single faint wail had
+reached the ears of the men above.
+
+"Hark! What was that, My Lord?" cried one of the men-at-arms.
+
+In tense silence they listened for a repetition of the sound and then De
+Montfort cried out:
+
+"What ho, below there! Who is it beneath the dock? Answer, in the name
+of the King!"
+
+Richard, recognizing the voice of his favorite uncle, struggled to free
+himself, but De Vac's ruthless hand crushed out the weak efforts of the
+babe, and all was quiet as the tomb, while those above stood listening
+for a repetition of the sound.
+
+"Dock rats," said De Clare, and then as though the devil guided them to
+protect his own, two huge rats scurried upward from between the loose
+boards, and ran squealing up the dark alley.
+
+"Right you are," said De Montfort, "but I could have sworn 'twas a
+child's feeble wail had I not seen the two filthy rodents with mine own
+eyes. Come, let us to the next vile alley. We have met with no success
+here, though that old hag who called herself Til seemed overanxious to
+bargain for the future information she seemed hopeful of being able to
+give us."
+
+As they moved off, their voices grew fainter in the ears of the
+listeners beneath the dock and soon were lost in the distance.
+
+"A close shave," thought De Vac, as he again took up the child and
+prepared to gain the dock. No further noises occurring to frighten him,
+he soon reached the door to Til's house and, inserting the key, crept
+noiselessly to the garret room which he had rented from his ill-favored
+hostess.
+
+There were no stairs from the upper floor to the garret above, this
+ascent being made by means of a wooden ladder which De Vac pulled up
+after him, closing and securing the aperture, through which he climbed
+with his burden, by means of a heavy trapdoor equipped with thick bars.
+
+The apartment which they now entered extended across the entire east end
+of the building, and had windows upon three sides. These were heavily
+curtained. The apartment was lighted by a small cresset hanging from a
+rafter near the center of the room.
+
+The walls were unplastered and the rafters unceiled; the whole bearing a
+most barnlike and unhospitable appearance.
+
+In one corner was a huge bed, and across the room a smaller cot; a
+cupboard, a table, and two benches completed the furnishings. These
+articles De Vac had purchased for the room against the time when he
+should occupy it with his little prisoner.
+
+On the table were a loaf of black bread, an earthenware jar containing
+honey, a pitcher of milk and two drinking horns. To these, De Vac
+immediately gave his attention, commanding the child to partake of what
+he wished.
+
+Hunger for the moment overcame the little Prince's fears, and he set
+to with avidity upon the strange, rough fare, made doubly coarse by
+the rude utensils and the bare surroundings, so unlike the royal
+magnificence of his palace apartments.
+
+While the child ate, De Vac hastened to the lower floor of the building
+in search of Til, whom he now thoroughly mistrusted and feared. The
+words of De Montfort, which he had overheard at the dock, convinced him
+that here was one more obstacle to the fulfillment of his revenge which
+must be removed as had the Lady Maud; but in this instance there was
+neither youth nor beauty to plead the cause of the intended victim, or
+to cause the grim executioner a pang of remorse.
+
+When he found the old hag, she was already dressed to go upon the
+street, in fact he intercepted her at the very door of the building.
+Still clad as he was in the mantle and wimple of an old woman, Til
+did not, at first, recognize him, and when he spoke, she burst into
+a nervous, cackling laugh, as one caught in the perpetration of some
+questionable act, nor did her manner escape the shrewd notice of the
+wily master of fence.
+
+"Whither, old hag?" he asked.
+
+"To visit Mag Tunk at the alley's end, by the river, My Lord," she
+replied, with more respect than she had been wont to accord him.
+
+"Then, I will accompany you part way, my friend, and, perchance, you can
+give me a hand with some packages I left behind me in the skiff I have
+moored there."
+
+And so the two walked together through the dark alley to the end of the
+rickety, dismantled dock; the one thinking of the vast reward the King
+would lavish upon her for the information she felt sure she alone could
+give; the other feeling beneath his mantle for the hilt of a long dagger
+which nestled there.
+
+As they reached the water's edge, De Vac was walking with his right
+shoulder behind his companion's left, in his hand was gripped the keen
+blade and, as the woman halted on the dock, the point that hovered just
+below her left shoulder-blade plunged, soundless, into her heart at the
+same instant that De Vac's left hand swung up and grasped her throat in
+a grip of steel.
+
+There was no sound, barely a struggle of the convulsively stiffening old
+muscles, and then, with a push from De Vac, the body lunged forward into
+the Thames, where a dull splash marked the end of the last hope that
+Prince Richard might be rescued from the clutches of his Nemesis.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+For three years following the disappearance of Prince Richard, a bent
+old woman lived in the heart of London within a stone's throw of the
+King's palace. In a small back room she lived, high up in the attic of
+an old building, and with her was a little boy who never went abroad
+alone, nor by day. And upon his left breast was a strange mark which
+resembled a lily. When the bent old woman was safely in her attic room,
+with bolted door behind her, she was wont to straighten up, and discard
+her dingy mantle for more comfortable and becoming doublet and hose.
+
+For years, she worked assiduously with the little boy's education. There
+were three subjects in her curriculum; French, swordsmanship and hatred
+of all things English, especially the reigning house of England.
+
+The old woman had had made a tiny foil and had commenced teaching the
+little boy the art of fence when he was but three years old.
+
+"You will be the greatest swordsman in the world when you are twenty,
+my son," she was wont to say, "and then you shall go out and kill many
+Englishmen. Your name shall be hated and cursed the length and breadth
+of England, and when you finally stand with the halter about your neck,
+aha, then will I speak. Then shall they know."
+
+The little boy did not understand it all, he only knew that he was
+comfortable, and had warm clothing, and all he required to eat, and that
+he would be a great man when he learned to fight with a real sword,
+and had grown large enough to wield one. He also knew that he hated
+Englishmen, but why, he did not know.
+
+Way back in the uttermost recesses of his little, childish head, he
+seemed to remember a time when his life and surroundings had been very
+different; when, instead of this old woman, there had been many people
+around him, and a sweet faced woman had held him in her arms and kissed
+him, before he was taken off to bed at night; but he could not be sure,
+maybe it was only a dream he remembered, for he dreamed many strange and
+wonderful dreams.
+
+When the little boy was about six years of age, a strange man came to
+their attic home to visit the little old woman. It was in the dusk of
+the evening but the old woman did not light the cresset, and further,
+she whispered to the little boy to remain in the shadows of a far corner
+of the bare chamber.
+
+The stranger was old and bent and had a great beard which hid almost
+his entire face except for two piercing eyes, a great nose and a bit
+of wrinkled forehead. When he spoke, he accompanied his words with many
+shrugs of his narrow shoulders and with waving of his arms and other
+strange and amusing gesticulations. The child was fascinated. Here was
+the first amusement of his little starved life. He listened intently to
+the conversation, which was in French.
+
+"I have just the thing for madame," the stranger was saying. "It be a
+noble and stately hall far from the beaten way. It was built in the old
+days by Harold the Saxon, but in later times, death and poverty and the
+disfavor of the King have wrested it from his descendants. A few years
+since, Henry granted it to that spend-thrift favorite of his, Henri de
+Macy, who pledged it to me for a sum he hath been unable to repay. Today
+it be my property, and as it be far from Paris, you may have it for the
+mere song I have named. It be a wondrous bargain, madame."
+
+"And when I come upon it, I shall find that I have bought a crumbling
+pile of ruined masonry, unfit to house a family of foxes," replied the
+old woman peevishly.
+
+"One tower hath fallen, and the roof for half the length of one wing
+hath sagged and tumbled in," explained the old Frenchman. "But the three
+lower stories be intact and quite habitable. It be much grander even
+now than the castles of many of England's noble barons, and the price,
+madame--ah, the price be so ridiculously low."
+
+Still the old woman hesitated.
+
+"Come," said the Frenchman, "I have it. Deposit the money with Isaac the
+Jew--thou knowest him?--and he shall hold it together with the deed
+for forty days, which will give thee ample time to travel to Derby and
+inspect thy purchase. If thou be not entirely satisfied, Isaac the Jew
+shall return thy money to thee and the deed to me, but if at the end
+of forty days thou hast not made demand for thy money, then shall Isaac
+send the deed to thee and the money to me. Be not this an easy and fair
+way out of the difficulty?"
+
+The little old woman thought for a moment and at last conceded that
+it seemed quite a fair way to arrange the matter. And thus it was
+accomplished.
+
+Several days later, the little old woman called the child to her.
+
+"We start tonight upon a long journey to our new home. Thy face shall
+be wrapped in many rags, for thou hast a most grievous toothache. Dost
+understand?"
+
+"But I have no toothache. My teeth do not pain me at all. I--"
+expostulated the child.
+
+"Tut, tut," interrupted the little old woman. "Thou hast a toothache,
+and so thy face must be wrapped in many rags. And listen, should any ask
+thee upon the way why thy face be so wrapped, thou art to say that thou
+hast a toothache. And thou do not do as I say, the King's men will take
+us and we shall be hanged, for the King hateth us. If thou hatest the
+English King and lovest thy life do as I command."
+
+"I hate the King," replied the little boy. "For this reason I shall do
+as thou sayest."
+
+So it was that they set out that night upon their long journey north
+toward the hills of Derby. For many days they travelled, riding upon
+two small donkeys. Strange sights filled the days for the little boy
+who remembered nothing outside the bare attic of his London home and the
+dirty London alleys that he had traversed only by night.
+
+They wound across beautiful parklike meadows and through dark,
+forbidding forests, and now and again they passed tiny hamlets of
+thatched huts. Occasionally they saw armored knights upon the highway,
+alone or in small parties, but the child's companion always managed to
+hasten into cover at the road side until the grim riders had passed.
+
+Once, as they lay in hiding in a dense wood beside a little open glade
+across which the road wound, the boy saw two knights enter the glade
+from either side. For a moment, they drew rein and eyed each other in
+silence, and then one, a great black mailed knight upon a black charger,
+cried out something to the other which the boy could not catch. The
+other knight made no response other than to rest his lance upon his
+thigh and with lowered point, ride toward his ebon adversary. For a
+dozen paces their great steeds trotted slowly toward one another, but
+presently the knights urged them into full gallop, and when the two iron
+men on their iron trapped chargers came together in the center of the
+glade, it was with all the terrific impact of full charge.
+
+The lance of the black knight smote full upon the linden shield of his
+foeman, the staggering weight of the mighty black charger hurtled upon
+the gray, who went down with his rider into the dust of the highway. The
+momentum of the black carried him fifty paces beyond the fallen horseman
+before his rider could rein him in, then the black knight turned to view
+the havoc he had wrought. The gray horse was just staggering dizzily to
+his feet, but his mailed rider lay quiet and still where he had fallen.
+
+With raised visor, the black knight rode back to the side of his
+vanquished foe. There was a cruel smile upon his lips as he leaned
+toward the prostrate form. He spoke tauntingly, but there was no
+response, then he prodded the fallen man with the point of his spear.
+Even this elicited no movement. With a shrug of his iron clad shoulders,
+the black knight wheeled and rode on down the road until he had
+disappeared from sight within the gloomy shadows of the encircling
+forest.
+
+The little boy was spell-bound. Naught like this had he ever seen or
+dreamed.
+
+"Some day thou shalt go and do likewise, my son," said the little old
+woman.
+
+"Shall I be clothed in armor and ride upon a great black steed?" he
+asked.
+
+"Yes, and thou shalt ride the highways of England with thy stout lance
+and mighty sword, and behind thee thou shalt leave a trail of blood and
+death, for every man shalt be thy enemy. But come, we must be on our
+way."
+
+They rode on, leaving the dead knight where he had fallen, but always in
+his memory the child carried the thing that he had seen, longing for the
+day when he should be great and strong like the formidable black knight.
+
+On another day, as they were biding in a deserted hovel to escape the
+notice of a caravan of merchants journeying up-country with their wares,
+they saw a band of ruffians rush out from the concealing shelter of some
+bushes at the far side of the highway and fall upon the surprised and
+defenseless tradesmen.
+
+Ragged, bearded, uncouth villains they were, armed mostly with bludgeons
+and daggers, with here and there a cross-bow. Without mercy they
+attacked the old and the young, beating them down in cold blood even
+when they offered no resistance. Those of the caravan who could,
+escaped, the balance the highwaymen left dead or dying in the road, as
+they hurried away with their loot.
+
+At first the child was horror-struck, but when he turned to the little
+old woman for sympathy he found a grim smile upon her thin lips. She
+noted his expression of dismay.
+
+"It is naught, my son. But English curs setting upon English swine. Some
+day thou shalt set upon both--they be only fit for killing."
+
+The boy made no reply, but he thought a great deal about that which
+he had seen. Knights were cruel to knights--the poor were cruel to the
+rich--and every day of the journey had forced upon his childish mind
+that everyone must be very cruel and hard upon the poor. He had seen
+them in all their sorrow and misery and poverty--stretching a long,
+scattering line all the way from London town. Their bent backs, their
+poor thin bodies and their hopeless, sorrowful faces attesting the weary
+wretchedness of their existence.
+
+"Be no one happy in all the world?" he once broke out to the old woman.
+
+"Only he who wields the mightiest sword," responded the old woman. "You
+have seen, my son, that all Englishmen are beasts. They set upon and
+kill one another for little provocation or for no provocation at all.
+When thou shalt be older, thou shalt go forth and kill them all for
+unless thou kill them, they will kill thee."
+
+At length, after tiresome days upon the road, they came to a little
+hamlet in the hills. Here the donkeys were disposed of and a great horse
+purchased, upon which the two rode far up into a rough and uninviting
+country away from the beaten track, until late one evening they
+approached a ruined castle.
+
+The frowning walls towered high against the moonlit sky beyond, and
+where a portion of the roof had fallen in, the cold moon, shining
+through the narrow unglazed windows, gave to the mighty pile the
+likeness of a huge, many-eyed ogre crouching upon the flank of a
+deserted world, for nowhere was there other sign of habitation.
+
+Before this somber pile, the two dismounted. The little boy was filled
+with awe and his childish imagination ran riot as they approached the
+crumbling barbican on foot, leading the horse after them. From the dark
+shadows of the ballium, they passed into the moonlit inner court. At the
+far end the old woman found the ancient stables, and here, with decaying
+planks, she penned the horse for the night, pouring a measure of oats
+upon the floor for him from a bag which had hung across his rump.
+
+Then she led the way into the dense shadows of the castle, lighting
+their advance with a flickering pine knot. The old planking of the
+floors, long unused, groaned and rattled beneath their approach. There
+was a sudden scamper of clawed feet before them, and a red fox dashed by
+in a frenzy of alarm toward the freedom of the outer night.
+
+Presently they came to the great hall. The old woman pushed open the
+great doors upon their creaking hinges and lit up dimly the mighty,
+cavernous interior with the puny rays of their feeble torch. As they
+stepped cautiously within, an impalpable dust arose in little spurts
+from the long-rotted rushes that crumbled beneath their feet. A huge
+bat circled wildly with loud fluttering wings in evident remonstrance at
+this rude intrusion. Strange creatures of the night scurried or wriggled
+across wall and floor.
+
+But the child was unafraid. Fear had not been a part of the old woman's
+curriculum. The boy did not know the meaning of the word, nor was
+he ever in his after-life to experience the sensation. With childish
+eagerness, he followed his companion as she inspected the interior of
+the chamber. It was still an imposing room. The boy clapped his hands
+in delight at the beauties of the carved and panelled walls and the oak
+beamed ceiling, stained almost black from the smoke of torches and oil
+cressets that had lighted it in bygone days, aided, no doubt, by the
+wood fires which had burned in its two immense fireplaces to cheer the
+merry throng of noble revellers that had so often sat about the great
+table into the morning hours.
+
+Here they took up their abode. But the bent, old woman was no longer an
+old woman--she had become a straight, wiry, active old man.
+
+The little boy's education went on--French, swordsmanship and hatred
+of the English--the same thing year after year with the addition of
+horsemanship after he was ten years old. At this time the old man
+commenced teaching him to speak English, but with a studied and very
+marked French accent. During all his life now, he could not remember of
+having spoken to any living being other than his guardian, whom he had
+been taught to address as father. Nor did the boy have any name--he was
+just "my son."
+
+His life in the Derby hills was so filled with the hard, exacting
+duties of his education that he had little time to think of the strange
+loneliness of his existence; nor is it probable that he missed that
+companionship of others of his own age of which, never having had
+experience in it, he could scarce be expected to regret or yearn for.
+
+At fifteen, the youth was a magnificent swordsman and horseman, and with
+an utter contempt for pain or danger--a contempt which was the result of
+the heroic methods adopted by the little old man in the training of him.
+Often the two practiced with razor-sharp swords, and without armor or
+other protection of any description.
+
+"Thus only," the old man was wont to say, "mayst thou become the
+absolute master of thy blade. Of such a nicety must be thy handling of
+the weapon that thou mayst touch an antagonist at will and so lightly,
+shouldst thou desire, that thy point, wholly under the control of a
+master hand, mayst be stopped before it inflicts so much as a scratch."
+
+But in practice, there were many accidents, and then one or both of them
+would nurse a punctured skin for a few days. So, while blood was often
+let on both sides, the training produced a fearless swordsman who was
+so truly the master of his point that he could stop a thrust within a
+fraction of an inch of the spot he sought.
+
+At fifteen, he was a very strong and straight and handsome lad. Bronzed
+and hardy from his outdoor life; of few words, for there was none that
+he might talk with save the taciturn old man; hating the English, for
+that he was taught as thoroughly as swordsmanship; speaking French
+fluently and English poorly--and waiting impatiently for the day when
+the old man should send him out into the world with clanking armor and
+lance and shield to do battle with the knights of England.
+
+It was about this time that there occurred the first important break in
+the monotony of his existence. Far down the rocky trail that led from
+the valley below through the Derby hills to the ruined castle, three
+armored knights urged their tired horses late one afternoon of a chill
+autumn day. Off the main road and far from any habitation, they had
+espied the castle's towers through a rift in the hills, and now they
+spurred toward it in search of food and shelter.
+
+As the road led them winding higher into the hills, they suddenly
+emerged upon the downs below the castle where a sight met their eyes
+which caused them to draw rein and watch in admiration. There, before
+them upon the downs, a boy battled with a lunging, rearing horse--a
+perfect demon of a black horse. Striking and biting in a frenzy of
+rage, it sought ever to escape or injure the lithe figure which clung
+leech-like to its shoulder.
+
+The boy was on the ground. His left hand grasped the heavy mane;
+his right arm lay across the beast's withers and his right hand drew
+steadily in upon a halter rope with which he had taken a half hitch
+about the horse's muzzle. Now the black reared and wheeled, striking
+and biting, full upon the youth, but the active figure swung with
+him--always just behind the giant shoulder--and ever and ever he drew
+the great arched neck farther and farther to the right.
+
+As the animal plunged hither and thither in great leaps, he dragged the
+boy with him, but all his mighty efforts were unavailing to loosen the
+grip upon mane and withers. Suddenly, he reared straight into the air
+carrying the youth with him, then with a vicious lunge he threw himself
+backward upon the ground.
+
+"It's death!" exclaimed one of the knights, "he will kill the youth yet,
+Beauchamp."
+
+"No!" cried he addressed. "Look! He is up again and the boy still clings
+as tightly to him as his own black hide."
+
+"'Tis true," exclaimed another, "but he hath lost what he had gained
+upon the halter--he must needs fight it all out again from the
+beginning."
+
+And so the battle went on again as before, the boy again drawing the
+iron neck slowly to the right--the beast fighting and squealing as
+though possessed of a thousand devils. A dozen times, as the head bent
+farther and farther toward him, the boy loosed his hold upon the mane
+and reached quickly down to grasp the near fore pastern. A dozen times
+the horse shook off the new hold, but at length the boy was successful,
+and the knee was bent and the hoof drawn up to the elbow.
+
+Now the black fought at a disadvantage, for he was on but three feet
+and his neck was drawn about in an awkward and unnatural position. His
+efforts became weaker and weaker. The boy talked incessantly to him in
+a quiet voice, and there was a shadow of a smile upon his lips. Now
+he bore heavily upon the black withers, pulling the horse toward him.
+Slowly the beast sank upon his bent knee--pulling backward until his off
+fore leg was stretched straight before him. Then, with a final surge,
+the youth pulled him over upon his side, and, as he fell, slipped prone
+beside him. One sinewy hand shot to the rope just beneath the black
+chin--the other grasped a slim, pointed ear.
+
+For a few minutes the horse fought and kicked to gain his liberty, but
+with his head held to the earth, he was as powerless in the hands of the
+boy as a baby would have been. Then he sank panting and exhausted into
+mute surrender.
+
+"Well done!" cried one of the knights. "Simon de Montfort himself never
+mastered a horse in better order, my boy. Who be thou?"
+
+In an instant, the lad was upon his feet his eyes searching for the
+speaker. The horse, released, sprang up also, and the two stood--the
+handsome boy and the beautiful black--gazing with startled eyes, like
+two wild things, at the strange intruder who confronted them.
+
+"Come, Sir Mortimer!" cried the boy, and turning he led the prancing but
+subdued animal toward the castle and through the ruined barbican into
+the court beyond.
+
+"What ho, there, lad!" shouted Paul of Merely. "We wouldst not harm
+thee--come, we but ask the way to the castle of De Stutevill."
+
+The three knights listened but there was no answer.
+
+"Come, Sir Knights," spoke Paul of Merely, "we will ride within and
+learn what manner of churls inhabit this ancient rookery."
+
+As they entered the great courtyard, magnificent even in its ruined
+grandeur, they were met by a little, grim old man who asked them in no
+gentle tones what they would of them there.
+
+"We have lost our way in these devilish Derby hills of thine, old man,"
+replied Paul of Merely. "We seek the castle of Sir John de Stutevill."
+
+"Ride down straight to the river road, keeping the first trail to the
+right, and when thou hast come there, turn again to thy right and ride
+north beside the river--thou canst not miss the way--it be plain as the
+nose before thy face," and with that the old man turned to enter the
+castle.
+
+"Hold, old fellow!" cried the spokesman. "It be nigh onto sunset now,
+and we care not to sleep out again this night as we did the last. We
+will tarry with you then till morn that we may take up our journey
+refreshed, upon rested steeds."
+
+The old man grumbled, and it was with poor grace that he took them in to
+feed and house them over night. But there was nothing else for it, since
+they would have taken his hospitality by force had he refused to give it
+voluntarily.
+
+From their guests, the two learned something of the conditions outside
+their Derby hills. The old man showed less interest than he felt, but to
+the boy, notwithstanding that the names he heard meant nothing to him,
+it was like unto a fairy tale to hear of the wondrous doings of earl and
+baron, bishop and king.
+
+"If the King does not mend his ways," said one of the knights, "we will
+drive his whole accursed pack of foreign blood-suckers into the sea."
+
+"De Montfort has told him as much a dozen times, and now that all of
+us, both Norman and Saxon barons, have already met together and formed
+a pact for our mutual protection, the King must surely realize that the
+time for temporizing be past, and that unless he would have a civil war
+upon his hands, he must keep the promises he so glibly makes, instead of
+breaking them the moment De Montfort's back be turned."
+
+"He fears his brother-in-law," interrupted another of the knights, "even
+more than the devil fears holy water. I was in attendance on his majesty
+some weeks since when he was going down the Thames upon the royal barge.
+We were overtaken by as severe a thunder storm as I have ever seen, of
+which the King was in such abject fear that he commanded that we land at
+the Bishop of Durham's palace opposite which we then were. De Montfort,
+who was residing there, came to meet Henry, with all due respect,
+observing, 'What do you fear, now, Sire, the tempest has passed?' And
+what thinkest thou old 'waxen heart' replied? Why, still trembling, he
+said, 'I do indeed fear thunder and lightning much, but, by the hand of
+God, I tremble before you more than for all the thunder in Heaven!'"
+
+"I surmise," interjected the grim, old man, "that De Montfort has in
+some manner gained an ascendancy over the King. Think you he looks so
+high as the throne itself?"
+
+"Not so," cried the oldest of the knights. "Simon de Montfort works for
+England's weal alone--and methinks, nay knowest, that he would be first
+to spring to arms to save the throne for Henry. He but fights the King's
+rank and covetous advisers, and though he must needs seem to defy the
+King himself, it be but to save his tottering power from utter collapse.
+But, gad, how the King hates him. For a time it seemed that there might
+be a permanent reconciliation when, for years after the disappearance
+of the little Prince Richard, De Montfort devoted much of his time and
+private fortune to prosecuting a search through all the world for the
+little fellow, of whom he was inordinately fond. This self-sacrificing
+interest on his part won over the King and Queen for many years, but of
+late his unremitting hostility to their continued extravagant waste of
+the national resources has again hardened them toward him."
+
+The old man, growing uneasy at the turn the conversation threatened,
+sent the youth from the room on some pretext, and himself left to
+prepare supper.
+
+As they were sitting at the evening meal, one of the nobles eyed the boy
+intently, for he was indeed good to look upon; his bright handsome face,
+clear, intelligent gray eyes, and square strong jaw framed in a mass
+of brown waving hair banged at the forehead and falling about his ears,
+where it was again cut square at the sides and back, after the fashion
+of the times.
+
+His upper body was clothed in a rough under tunic of wool, stained red,
+over which he wore a short leathern jerkin, while his doublet was also
+of leather, a soft and finely tanned piece of undressed doeskin. His
+long hose, fitting his shapely legs as closely as another layer of skin,
+were of the same red wool as his tunic, while his strong leather sandals
+were cross-gartered halfway to his knees with narrow bands of leather.
+
+A leathern girdle about his waist supported a sword and a dagger and a
+round skull cap of the same material, to which was fastened a falcon's
+wing, completed his picturesque and becoming costume.
+
+"Your son?" he asked, turning to the old man.
+
+"Yes," was the growling response.
+
+"He favors you but little, old fellow, except in his cursed French
+accent.
+
+"'S blood, Beauchamp," he continued, turning to one of his companions,
+"an' were he set down in court, I wager our gracious Queen would he hard
+put to it to tell him from the young Prince Edward. Dids't ever see so
+strange a likeness?"
+
+"Now that you speak of it, My Lord, I see it plainly. It is indeed a
+marvel," answered Beauchamp.
+
+Had they glanced at the old man during this colloquy, they would have
+seen a blanched face, drawn with inward fear and rage.
+
+Presently the oldest member of the party of three knights spoke in a
+grave quiet tone.
+
+"And how old might you be, my son?" he asked the boy.
+
+"I do not know."
+
+"And your name?"
+
+"I do not know what you mean. I have no name. My father calls me son and
+no other ever before addressed me."
+
+At this juncture, the old man arose and left the room, saving he would
+fetch more food from the kitchen, but he turned immediately he had
+passed the doorway and listened from without.
+
+"The lad appears about fifteen," said Paul of Merely, lowering his
+voice, "and so would be the little lost Prince Richard, if he lives.
+This one does not know his name, or his age, yet he looks enough like
+Prince Edward to be his twin."
+
+"Come, my son," he continued aloud, "open your jerkin and let us have a
+look at your left breast, we shall read a true answer there."
+
+"Are you Englishmen?" asked the boy without making a move to comply with
+their demand.
+
+"That we be, my son," said Beauchamp.
+
+"Then it were better that I die than do your bidding, for all Englishmen
+are pigs and I loathe them as becomes a gentleman of France. I do not
+uncover my body to the eyes of swine."
+
+The knights, at first taken back by this unexpected outbreak, finally
+burst into uproarious laughter.
+
+"Indeed," cried Paul of Merely, "spoken as one of the King's foreign
+favorites might speak, and they ever told the good God's truth. But come
+lad, we would not harm you--do as I bid."
+
+"No man lives who can harm me while a blade hangs at my side," answered
+the boy, "and as for doing as you bid, I take orders from no man other
+than my father."
+
+Beauchamp and Greystoke laughed aloud at the discomfiture of Paul of
+Merely, but the latter's face hardened in anger, and without further
+words he strode forward with outstretched hand to tear open the boy's
+leathern jerkin, but met with the gleaming point of a sword and a quick
+sharp, "En garde!" from the boy.
+
+There was naught for Paul of Merely to do but draw his own weapon, in
+self-defense, for the sharp point of the boy's sword was flashing in and
+out against his unprotected body, inflicting painful little jabs,
+and the boy's tongue was murmuring low-toned taunts and insults as it
+invited him to draw and defend himself or be stuck "like the English pig
+you are."
+
+Paul of Merely was a brave man and he liked not the idea of drawing
+against this stripling, but he argued that he could quickly disarm him
+without harming the lad, and he certainly did not care to be further
+humiliated before his comrades.
+
+But when he had drawn and engaged his youthful antagonist, he discovered
+that, far from disarming him, he would have the devil's own job of it to
+keep from being killed.
+
+Never in all his long years of fighting had he faced such an agile and
+dexterous enemy, and as they backed this way and that about the room,
+great beads of sweat stood upon the brow of Paul of Merely, for he
+realized that he was fighting for his life against a superior swordsman.
+
+The loud laughter of Beauchamp and Greystoke soon subsided to grim
+smiles, and presently they looked on with startled faces in which fear
+and apprehension were dominant.
+
+The boy was fighting as a cat might play with a mouse. No sign of
+exertion was apparent, and his haughty confident smile told louder than
+words that he had in no sense let himself out to his full capacity.
+
+Around and around the room they circled, the boy always advancing, Paul
+of Merely always retreating. The din of their clashing swords and the
+heavy breathing of the older man were the only sounds, except as they
+brushed against a bench or a table.
+
+Paul of Merely was a brave man, but he shuddered at the thought of dying
+uselessly at the hands of a mere boy. He would not call upon his friends
+for aid, but presently, to his relief, Beauchamp sprang between them
+with drawn sword, crying "Enough, gentlemen, enough! You have no
+quarrel. Sheathe your swords."
+
+But the boy's only response was, "En garde, cochon," and Beauchamp found
+himself taking the center of the stage in the place of his friend. Nor
+did the boy neglect Paul of Merely, but engaged them both in swordplay
+that caused the eyes of Greystoke to bulge from their sockets.
+
+So swiftly moved his flying blade that half the time it was a sheet of
+gleaming light, and now he was driving home his thrusts and the smile
+had frozen upon his lips--grim and stern.
+
+Paul of Merely and Beauchamp were wounded in a dozen places when
+Greystoke rushed to their aid, and then it was that a little, wiry, gray
+man leaped agilely from the kitchen doorway, and with drawn sword took
+his place beside the boy. It was now two against three and the three may
+have guessed, though they never knew, that they were pitted against the
+two greatest swordsmen in the world.
+
+"To the death," cried the little gray man, "a mort, mon fils." Scarcely
+had the words left his lips ere, as though it had but waited permission,
+the boy's sword flashed into the heart of Paul of Merely, and a Saxon
+gentleman was gathered to his fathers.
+
+The old man engaged Greystoke now, and the boy turned his undivided
+attention to Beauchamp. Both these men were considered excellent
+swordsmen, but when Beauchamp heard again the little gray man's "a mort,
+mon fils," he shuddered, and the little hairs at the nape of his neck
+rose up, and his spine froze, for he knew that he had heard the sentence
+of death passed upon him; for no mortal had yet lived who could vanquish
+such a swordsman as he who now faced him.
+
+As Beauchamp pitched forward across a bench, dead, the little old man
+led Greystoke to where the boy awaited him.
+
+"They are thy enemies, my son, and to thee belongs the pleasure of
+revenge; a mort, mon fils."
+
+Greystoke was determined to sell his life dearly, and he rushed the lad
+as a great bull might rush a teasing dog, but the boy gave back not
+an inch and, when Greystoke stopped, there was a foot of cold steel
+protruding from his back.
+
+Together they buried the knights at the bottom of the dry moat at the
+back of the ruined castle. First they had stripped them and, when they
+took account of the spoils of the combat, they found themselves richer
+by three horses with full trappings, many pieces of gold and silver
+money, ornaments and jewels, as well as the lances, swords and chain
+mail armor of their erstwhile guests.
+
+But the greatest gain, the old man thought to himself, was that the
+knowledge of the remarkable resemblance between his ward and Prince
+Edward of England had come to him in time to prevent the undoing of his
+life's work.
+
+The boy, while young, was tall and broad shouldered, and so the old
+man had little difficulty in fitting one of the suits of armor to
+him, obliterating the devices so that none might guess to whom it had
+belonged. This he did, and from then on the boy never rode abroad except
+in armor, and when he met others upon the high road, his visor was
+always lowered that none might see his face.
+
+The day following the episode of the three knights the old man called
+the boy to him, saying,
+
+"It is time, my son, that thou learned an answer to such questions as
+were put to thee yestereve by the pigs of Henry. Thou art fifteen years
+of age, and thy name be Norman, and so, as this be the ancient castle of
+Torn, thou mayst answer those whom thou desire to know it that thou art
+Norman of Torn; that thou be a French gentleman whose father purchased
+Torn and brought thee hither from France on the death of thy mother,
+when thou wert six years old.
+
+"But remember, Norman of Torn, that the best answer for an Englishman is
+the sword; naught else may penetrate his thick wit."
+
+And so was born that Norman of Torn, whose name in a few short years
+was to strike terror to the hearts of Englishmen, and whose power in the
+vicinity of Torn was greater than that of the King or the barons.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+From now on, the old man devoted himself to the training of the boy in
+the handling of his lance and battle-axe, but each day also, a period
+was allotted to the sword, until, by the time the youth had turned
+sixteen, even the old man himself was as but a novice by comparison with
+the marvelous skill of his pupil.
+
+During these days, the boy rode Sir Mortimer abroad in many directions
+until he knew every bypath within a radius of fifty miles of Torn.
+Sometimes the old man accompanied him, but more often he rode alone.
+
+On one occasion, he chanced upon a hut at the outskirts of a small
+hamlet not far from Torn and, with the curiosity of boyhood, determined
+to enter and have speech with the inmates, for by this time the natural
+desire for companionship was commencing to assert itself. In all his
+life, he remembered only the company of the old man, who never spoke
+except when necessity required.
+
+The hut was occupied by an old priest, and as the boy in armor pushed
+in, without the usual formality of knocking, the old man looked up with
+an expression of annoyance and disapproval.
+
+"What now," he said, "have the King's men respect neither for piety nor
+age that they burst in upon the seclusion of a holy man without so much
+as a 'by your leave'?"
+
+"I am no king's man," replied the boy quietly, "I am Norman of Torn, who
+has neither a king nor a god, and who says 'by your leave' to no man.
+But I have come in peace because I wish to talk to another than my
+father. Therefore you may talk to me, priest," he concluded with haughty
+peremptoriness.
+
+"By the nose of John, but it must be a king has deigned to honor me with
+his commands," laughed the priest. "Raise your visor, My Lord, I
+would fain look upon the countenance from which issue the commands of
+royalty."
+
+The priest was a large man with beaming, kindly eyes, and a round jovial
+face. There was no bite in the tones of his good-natured retort, and so,
+smiling, the boy raised his visor.
+
+"By the ear of Gabriel," cried the good father, "a child in armor!"
+
+"A child in years, mayhap," replied the boy, "but a good child to own as
+a friend, if one has enemies who wear swords."
+
+"Then we shall be friends, Norman of Torn, for albeit I have few
+enemies, no man has too many friends, and I like your face and your
+manner, though there be much to wish for in your manners. Sit down and
+eat with me, and I will talk to your heart's content, for be there one
+other thing I more love than eating, it is talking."
+
+With the priest's aid, the boy laid aside his armor, for it was heavy
+and uncomfortable, and together the two sat down to the meal that was
+already partially on the board.
+
+Thus began a friendship which lasted during the lifetime of the good
+priest. Whenever he could do so, Norman of Torn visited his friend,
+Father Claude. It was he who taught the boy to read and write in French,
+English and Latin at a time when but few of the nobles could sign their
+own names.
+
+French was spoken almost exclusively at court and among the higher
+classes of society, and all public documents were inscribed either in
+French or Latin, although about this time the first proclamation written
+in the English tongue was issued by an English king to his subjects.
+
+Father Claude taught the boy to respect the rights of others, to espouse
+the cause of the poor and weak, to revere God and to believe that the
+principal reason for man's existence was to protect woman. All of virtue
+and chivalry and true manhood which his old guardian had neglected to
+inculcate in the boy's mind, the good priest planted there, but he could
+not eradicate his deep-seated hatred for the English or his belief that
+the real test of manhood lay in a desire to fight to the death with a
+sword.
+
+An occurrence which befell during one of the boy's earlier visits to his
+new friend rather decided the latter that no arguments he could bring to
+bear could ever overcome the bald fact that to this very belief of the
+boy's, and his ability to back it up with acts, the good father owed a
+great deal, possibly his life.
+
+As they were seated in the priest's hut one afternoon, a rough knock
+fell upon the door which was immediately pushed open to admit as
+disreputable a band of ruffians as ever polluted the sight of man. Six
+of them there were, clothed in dirty leather, and wearing swords and
+daggers at their sides.
+
+The leader was a mighty fellow with a great shock of coarse black hair
+and a red, bloated face almost concealed by a huge matted black beard.
+Behind him pushed another giant with red hair and a bristling mustache;
+while the third was marked by a terrible scar across his left cheek and
+forehead and from a blow which had evidently put out his left eye, for
+that socket was empty, and the sunken eyelid but partly covered the
+inflamed red of the hollow where his eye had been.
+
+"A ha, my hearties," roared the leader, turning to his motley crew,
+"fine pickings here indeed. A swine of God fattened upon the sweat of
+such poor, honest devils as we, and a young shoat who, by his looks,
+must have pieces of gold in his belt.
+
+"Say your prayers, my pigeons," he continued, with a vile oath, "for The
+Black Wolf leaves no evidence behind him to tie his neck with a halter
+later, and dead men talk the least."
+
+"If it be The Black Wolf," whispered Father Claude to the boy, "no worse
+fate could befall us for he preys ever upon the clergy, and when drunk,
+as he now is, he murders his victims. I will throw myself before them
+while you hasten through the rear doorway to your horse, and make good
+your escape." He spoke in French, and held his hands in the attitude of
+prayer, so that he quite entirely misled the ruffians, who had no idea
+that he was communicating with the boy.
+
+Norman of Torn could scarce repress a smile at this clever ruse of the
+old priest, and, assuming a similar attitude, he replied in French:
+
+"The good Father Claude does not know Norman of Torn if he thinks he
+runs out the back door like an old woman because a sword looks in at the
+front door."
+
+Then rising he addressed the ruffians.
+
+"I do not know what manner of grievance you hold against my good friend
+here, nor neither do I care. It is sufficient that he is the friend of
+Norman of Torn, and that Norman of Torn be here in person to acknowledge
+the debt of friendship. Have at you, sir knights of the great filth and
+the mighty stink!" and with drawn sword he vaulted over the table and
+fell upon the surprised leader.
+
+In the little room, but two could engage him at once, but so fiercely
+did his blade swing and so surely did he thrust that, in a bare moment,
+The Black Wolf lay dead upon the floor and the red giant, Shandy, was
+badly, though not fatally wounded. The four remaining ruffians backed
+quickly from the hut, and a more cautious fighter would have let them
+go their way in peace, for in the open, four against one are odds no man
+may pit himself against with impunity. But Norman of Torn saw red when
+he fought and the red lured him ever on into the thickest of the fray.
+Only once before had he fought to the death, but that once had taught
+him the love of it, and ever after until his death, it marked his manner
+of fighting; so that men who loathed and hated and feared him were as
+one with those who loved him in acknowledging that never before had God
+joined in the human frame absolute supremacy with the sword and such
+utter fearlessness.
+
+So it was, now, that instead of being satisfied with his victory, he
+rushed out after the four knaves. Once in the open, they turned upon
+him, but he sprang into their midst with his seething blade, and it was
+as though they faced four men rather than one, so quickly did he parry
+a thrust here and return a cut there. In a moment one was disarmed,
+another down, and the remaining two fleeing for their lives toward the
+high road with Norman of Torn close at their heels.
+
+Young, agile and perfect in health, he outclassed them in running as
+well as in swordsmanship, and ere they had made fifty paces, both had
+thrown away their swords and were on their knees pleading for their
+lives.
+
+"Come back to the good priest's hut, and we shall see what he may say,"
+replied Norman of Torn.
+
+On the way back, they found the man who had been disarmed bending over
+his wounded comrade. They were brothers, named Flory, and one would not
+desert the other. It was evident that the wounded man was in no danger,
+so Norman of Torn ordered the others to assist him into the hut, where
+they found Red Shandy sitting propped against the wall while the good
+father poured the contents of a flagon down his eager throat.
+
+The villain's eyes fairly popped from his head when he saw his four
+comrades coming, unarmed and prisoners, back to the little room.
+
+"The Black Wolf dead, Red Shandy and John Flory wounded, James Flory,
+One Eye Kanty and Peter the Hermit prisoners!" he ejaculated.
+
+"Man or devil! By the Pope's hind leg, who and what be ye?" he said,
+turning to Norman of Torn.
+
+"I be your master and ye be my men," said Norman of Torn. "Me ye shall
+serve in fairer work than ye have selected for yourselves, but with
+fighting a-plenty and good reward."
+
+The sight of this gang of ruffians banded together to prey upon the
+clergy had given rise to an idea in the boy's mind, which had been
+revolving in a nebulous way within the innermost recesses of his
+subconsciousness since his vanquishing of the three knights had brought
+him, so easily, such riches in the form of horses, arms, armor and gold.
+As was always his wont in his after life, to think was to act.
+
+"With The Black Wolf dead, and may the devil pull out his eyes with red
+hot tongs, we might look farther and fare worse, mates, in search of a
+chief," spoke Red Shandy, eyeing his fellows, "for verily any man, be he
+but a stripling, who can vanquish six such as we, be fit to command us."
+
+"But what be the duties?" said he whom they called Peter the Hermit.
+
+"To follow Norman of Torn where he may lead, to protect the poor and the
+weak, to lay down your lives in defence of woman, and to prey upon rich
+Englishmen and harass the King of England."
+
+The last two clauses of these articles of faith appealed to the ruffians
+so strongly that they would have subscribed to anything, even daily
+mass, and a bath, had that been necessary to admit them to the service
+of Norman of Torn.
+
+"Aye, aye!" they cried. "We be your men, indeed."
+
+"Wait," said Norman of Torn, "there is more. You are to obey my every
+command on pain of instant death, and one-half of all your gains are to
+be mine. On my side, I will clothe and feed you, furnish you with mounts
+and armor and weapons and a roof to sleep under, and fight for and with
+you with a sword arm which you know to be no mean protector. Are you
+satisfied?"
+
+"That we are," and "Long live Norman of Torn," and "Here's to the chief
+of the Torns" signified the ready assent of the burly cut-throats.
+
+"Then swear it as ye kiss the hilt of my sword and this token," pursued
+Norman of Torn catching up a crucifix from the priest's table.
+
+With these formalities was born the Clan Torn, which grew in a few years
+to number a thousand men, and which defied a king's army and helped to
+make Simon de Montfort virtual ruler of England.
+
+Almost immediately commenced that series of outlaw acts upon neighboring
+barons, and chance members of the gentry who happened to be caught in
+the open by the outlaws, that filled the coffers of Norman of Torn with
+many pieces of gold and silver, and placed a price upon his head ere he
+had scarce turned eighteen.
+
+That he had no fear of or desire to avoid responsibility for his acts,
+he grimly evidenced by marking with a dagger's point upon the foreheads
+of those who fell before his own sword the initials NT.
+
+As his following and wealth increased, he rebuilt and enlarged the grim
+Castle of Torn, and again dammed the little stream which had furnished
+the moat with water in bygone days.
+
+Through all the length and breadth of the country that witnessed
+his activities, his very name was worshipped by poor and lowly and
+oppressed. The money he took from the King's tax gatherers, he returned
+to the miserable peasants of the district, and once when Henry III sent
+a little expedition against him, he surrounded and captured the entire
+force, and, stripping them, gave their clothing to the poor, and
+escorted them, naked, back to the very gates of London.
+
+By the time he was twenty, Norman the Devil, as the King himself had
+dubbed him, was known by reputation throughout all England, though no
+man had seen his face and lived other than his friends and followers.
+He had become a power to reckon with in the fast culminating quarrel
+between King Henry and his foreign favorites on one side, and the Saxon
+and Norman barons on the other.
+
+Neither side knew which way his power might be turned, for Norman of
+Torn had preyed almost equally upon royalist and insurgent. Personally,
+he had decided to join neither party, but to take advantage of the
+turmoil of the times to prey without partiality upon both.
+
+As Norman of Torn approached his grim castle home with his five filthy,
+ragged cut-throats on the day of his first meeting with them, the old
+man of Torn stood watching the little party from one of the small towers
+of the barbican.
+
+Halting beneath this outer gate, the youth winded the horn which hung at
+his side in mimicry of the custom of the times.
+
+"What ho, without there!" challenged the old man entering grimly into
+the spirit of the play.
+
+"'Tis Sir Norman of Torn," spoke up Red Shandy, "with his great host
+of noble knights and men-at-arms and squires and lackeys and sumpter
+beasts. Open in the name of the good right arm of Sir Norman of Torn."
+
+"What means this, my son?" said the old man as Norman of Torn dismounted
+within the ballium.
+
+The youth narrated the events of the morning, concluding with, "These,
+then, be my men, father; and together we shall fare forth upon the
+highways and into the byways of England, to collect from the rich
+English pigs that living which you have ever taught me was owing us."
+
+"'Tis well, my son, and even as I myself would have it; together we
+shall ride out, and where we ride, a trail of blood shall mark our way.
+
+"From now, henceforth, the name and fame of Norman of Torn shall grow in
+the land, until even the King shall tremble when he hears it, and shall
+hate and loathe ye as I have even taught ye to hate and loathe him.
+
+"All England shall curse ye and the blood of Saxon and Norman shall
+never dry upon your blade."
+
+As the old man walked away toward the great gate of the castle after
+this outbreak, Shandy, turning to Norman of Torn, with a wide grin,
+said:
+
+"By the Pope's hind leg, but thy amiable father loveth the English.
+There should be great riding after such as he."
+
+"Ye ride after ME, varlet," cried Norman of Torn, "an' lest ye should
+forget again so soon who be thy master, take that, as a reminder," and
+he struck the red giant full upon the mouth with his clenched fist--so
+that the fellow tumbled heavily to the earth.
+
+He was on his feet in an instant, spitting blood, and in a towering
+rage. As he rushed, bull-like, toward Norman of Torn, the latter made
+no move to draw; he but stood with folded arms, eyeing Shandy with cold,
+level gaze; his head held high, haughty face marked by an arrogant sneer
+of contempt.
+
+The great ruffian paused, then stopped, slowly a sheepish smile
+overspread his countenance and, going upon one knee, he took the hand of
+Norman of Torn and kissed it, as some great and loyal noble knight might
+have kissed his king's hand in proof of his love and fealty. There was
+a certain rude, though chivalrous grandeur in the act; and it marked
+not only the beginning of a lifelong devotion and loyalty on the part of
+Shandy toward his young master, but was prophetic of the attitude which
+Norman of Torn was to inspire in all the men who served him during the
+long years that saw thousands pass the barbicans of Torn to crave a
+position beneath his grim banner.
+
+As Shandy rose, one by one, John Flory, James, his brother, One Eye
+Kanty, and Peter the Hermit knelt before their young lord and kissed
+his hand. From the Great Court beyond, a little, grim, gray, old man had
+watched this scene, a slight smile upon his old, malicious face.
+
+"'Tis to transcend even my dearest dreams," he muttered. "'S death,
+but he be more a king than Henry himself. God speed the day of his
+coronation, when, before the very eyes of the Plantagenet hound, a black
+cap shall be placed upon his head for a crown; beneath his feet the
+platform of a wooden gibbet for a throne."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+It was a beautiful spring day in May, 1262, that Norman of Torn rode
+alone down the narrow trail that led to the pretty cottage with which he
+had replaced the hut of his old friend, Father Claude.
+
+As was his custom, he rode with lowered visor, and nowhere upon his
+person or upon the trappings of his horse were sign or insignia of rank
+or house. More powerful and richer than many nobles of the court, he was
+without rank or other title than that of outlaw and he seemed to assume
+what in reality he held in little esteem.
+
+He wore armor because his old guardian had urged him to do so, and not
+because he craved the protection it afforded. And, for the same cause,
+he rode always with lowered visor, though he could never prevail upon
+the old man to explain the reason which necessitated this precaution.
+
+"It is enough that I tell you, my son," the old fellow was wont to say,
+"that for your own good as well as mine, you must not show your face to
+your enemies until I so direct. The time will come and soon now, I hope,
+when you shall uncover your countenance to all England."
+
+The young man gave the matter but little thought, usually passing it off
+as the foolish whim of an old dotard; but he humored it nevertheless.
+
+Behind him, as he rode down the steep declivity that day, loomed a very
+different Torn from that which he had approached sixteen years before,
+when, as a little boy he had ridden through the darkening shadows of
+the night, perched upon a great horse behind the little old woman, whose
+metamorphosis to the little grim, gray, old man of Torn their advent to
+the castle had marked.
+
+Today the great, frowning pile loomed larger and more imposing than ever
+in the most resplendent days of its past grandeur. The original keep was
+there with its huge, buttressed Saxon towers whose mighty fifteen foot
+walls were pierced with stairways and vaulted chambers, lighted by
+embrasures which, mere slits in the outer periphery of the walls, spread
+to larger dimensions within, some even attaining the area of small
+triangular chambers.
+
+The moat, widened and deepened, completely encircled three sides of the
+castle, running between the inner and outer walls, which were set at
+intervals with small projecting towers so pierced that a flanking fire
+from long bows, cross bows and javelins might be directed against a
+scaling party.
+
+The fourth side of the walled enclosure overhung a high precipice, which
+natural protection rendered towers unnecessary upon this side.
+
+The main gateway of the castle looked toward the west and from it ran
+the tortuous and rocky trail, down through the mountains toward the
+valley below. The aspect from the great gate was one of quiet and rugged
+beauty. A short stretch of barren downs in the foreground only sparsely
+studded with an occasional gnarled oak gave an unobstructed view of
+broad and lovely meadowland through which wound a sparkling tributary of
+the Trent.
+
+Two more gateways let into the great fortress, one piercing the north
+wall and one the east. All three gates were strongly fortified with
+towered and buttressed barbicans which must be taken before the main
+gates could be reached. Each barbican was portcullised, while the inner
+gates were similarly safeguarded in addition to the drawbridges which,
+spanning the moat when lowered, could be drawn up at the approach of an
+enemy, effectually stopping his advance.
+
+The new towers and buildings added to the ancient keep under the
+direction of Norman of Torn and the grim, old man whom he called father,
+were of the Norman type of architecture, the windows were larger, the
+carving more elaborate, the rooms lighter and more spacious.
+
+Within the great enclosure thrived a fair sized town, for, with his ten
+hundred fighting-men, the Outlaw of Torn required many squires, lackeys,
+cooks, scullions, armorers, smithies, farriers, hostlers and the like to
+care for the wants of his little army.
+
+Fifteen hundred war horses, beside five hundred sumpter beasts, were
+quartered in the great stables, while the east court was alive with
+cows, oxen, goats, sheep, pigs, rabbits and chickens.
+
+Great wooden carts drawn by slow, plodding oxen were daily visitors to
+the grim pile, fetching provender for man and beast from the neighboring
+farm lands of the poor Saxon peasants, to whom Norman of Torn paid good
+gold for their crops.
+
+These poor serfs, who were worse than slaves to the proud barons who
+owned the land they tilled, were forbidden by royal edict to sell or
+give a pennysworth of provisions to the Outlaw of Torn, upon pain of
+death, but nevertheless his great carts made their trips regularly and
+always returned full laden, and though the husbandmen told sad tales
+to their overlords of the awful raids of the Devil of Torn in which he
+seized upon their stuff by force, their tongues were in their cheeks as
+they spoke and the Devil's gold in their pockets.
+
+And so, while the barons learned to hate him the more, the peasants'
+love for him increased. Them he never injured; their fences, their
+stock, their crops, their wives and daughters were safe from molestation
+even though the neighboring castle of their lord might be sacked from
+the wine cellar to the ramparts of the loftiest tower. Nor did anyone
+dare ride rough shod over the territory which Norman of Torn patrolled.
+A dozen bands of cut-throats he had driven from the Derby hills, and
+though the barons would much rather have had all the rest than he, the
+peasants worshipped him as a deliverer from the lowborn murderers who
+had been wont to despoil the weak and lowly and on whose account the
+women of the huts and cottages had never been safe.
+
+Few of them had seen his face and fewer still had spoken with him, but
+they loved his name and his prowess and in secret they prayed for him
+to their ancient god, Wodin, and the lesser gods of the forest and the
+meadow and the chase, for though they were confessed Christians, still
+in the hearts of many beat a faint echo of the old superstitions of
+their ancestors; and while they prayed also to the Lord Jesus and to
+Mary, yet they felt it could do no harm to be on the safe side with the
+others, in case they did happen to exist.
+
+A poor, degraded, downtrodden, ignorant, superstitious people, they
+were; accustomed for generations to the heel of first one invader and
+then another and in the interims, when there were any, the heels of
+their feudal lords and their rapacious monarchs.
+
+No wonder then that such as these worshipped the Outlaw of Torn, for
+since their fierce Saxon ancestors had come, themselves as conquerors,
+to England, no other hand had ever been raised to shield them from
+oppression.
+
+On this policy of his toward the serfs and freedmen, Norman of Torn and
+the grim, old man whom he called father had never agreed. The latter was
+for carrying his war of hate against all Englishmen, but the young man
+would neither listen to it, nor allow any who rode out from Torn to
+molest the lowly. A ragged tunic was a surer defence against this wild
+horde than a stout lance or an emblazoned shield.
+
+So, as Norman of Torn rode down from his mighty castle to visit Father
+Claude, the sunlight playing on his clanking armor and glancing from
+the copper boss of his shield, the sight of a little group of woodmen
+kneeling uncovered by the roadside as he passed was not so remarkable
+after all.
+
+Entering the priest's study, Norman of Torn removed his armor and lay
+back moodily upon a bench with his back against a wall and his strong,
+lithe legs stretched out before him.
+
+"What ails you, my son?" asked the priest, "that you look so
+disconsolate on this beautiful day?"
+
+"I do not know, Father," replied Norman of Torn, "unless it be that I
+am asking myself the question, 'What it is all for?' Why did my father
+train me ever to prey upon my fellows? I like to fight, but there is
+plenty of fighting which is legitimate, and what good may all my stolen
+wealth avail me if I may not enter the haunts of men to spend it? Should
+I stick my head into London town, it would doubtless stay there, held by
+a hempen necklace.
+
+"What quarrel have I with the King or the gentry? They have quarrel
+enough with me it is true, but, nathless, I do not know why I should
+have hated them so before I was old enough to know how rotten they
+really are. So it seems to me that I am but the instrument of an old
+man's spite, not even knowing the grievance to the avenging of which my
+life has been dedicated by another.
+
+"And at times, Father Claude, as I grow older, I doubt much that the
+nameless old man of Torn is my father, so little do I favor him, and
+never in all my life have I heard a word of fatherly endearment or felt
+a caress, even as a little child. What think you, Father Claude?"
+
+"I have thought much of it, my son," answered the priest. "It has ever
+been a sore puzzle to me, and I have my suspicions, which I have held
+for years, but which even the thought of so frightens me that I shudder
+to speculate upon the consequences of voicing them aloud. Norman of
+Torn, if you are not the son of the old man you call father, may God
+forfend that England ever guesses your true parentage. More than this, I
+dare not say except that, as you value your peace of mind and your life,
+keep your visor down and keep out of the clutches of your enemies."
+
+"Then you know why I should keep my visor down?"
+
+"I can only guess, Norman of Torn, because I have seen another whom you
+resemble."
+
+The conversation was interrupted by a commotion from without; the sound
+of horses' hoofs, the cries of men and the clash of arms. In an instant,
+both men were at the tiny unglazed window. Before them, on the highroad,
+five knights in armor were now engaged in furious battle with a party of
+ten or a dozen other steel-clad warriors, while crouching breathless on
+her palfry, a young woman sat a little apart from the contestants.
+
+Presently, one of the knights detached himself from the melee and rode
+to her side with some word of command, at the same time grasping
+roughly at her bridle rein. The girl raised her riding whip and struck
+repeatedly but futilely against the iron headgear of her assailant while
+he swung his horse up the road, and, dragging her palfrey after him,
+galloped rapidly out of sight.
+
+Norman of Torn sprang to the door, and, reckless of his unarmored
+condition, leaped to Sir Mortimer's back and spurred swiftly in the
+direction taken by the girl and her abductor.
+
+The great black was fleet, and, unencumbered by the usual heavy armor
+of his rider, soon brought the fugitives to view. Scarce a mile had been
+covered ere the knight, turning to look for pursuers, saw the face of
+Norman of Torn not ten paces behind him.
+
+With a look of mingled surprise, chagrin and incredulity the knight
+reined in his horse, exclaiming as he did so, "Mon Dieu, Edward!"
+
+"Draw and defend yourself," cried Norman of Torn.
+
+"But, Your Highness," stammered the knight.
+
+"Draw, or I stick you as I have stuck an hundred other English pigs,"
+cried Norman of Torn.
+
+The charging steed was almost upon him and the knight looked to see the
+rider draw rein, but, like a black bolt, the mighty Sir Mortimer struck
+the other horse full upon the shoulder, and man and steed rolled in the
+dust of the roadway.
+
+The knight arose, unhurt, and Norman of Torn dismounted to give fair
+battle upon even terms. Though handicapped by the weight of his armor,
+the knight also had the advantage of its protection, so that the
+two fought furiously for several minutes without either gaining an
+advantage.
+
+The girl sat motionless and wide-eyed at the side of the road watching
+every move of the two contestants. She made no effort to escape, but
+seemed riveted to the spot by the very fierceness of the battle she
+was beholding, as well, possibly, as by the fascination of the handsome
+giant who had espoused her cause. As she looked upon her champion, she
+saw a lithe, muscular, brown-haired youth whose clear eyes and perfect
+figure, unconcealed by either bassinet or hauberk, reflected the clean,
+athletic life of the trained fighting man.
+
+Upon his face hovered a faint, cold smile of haughty pride as the sword
+arm, displaying its mighty strength and skill in every move, played with
+the sweating, puffing, steel-clad enemy who hacked and hewed so futilely
+before him. For all the din of clashing blades and rattling armor,
+neither of the contestants had inflicted much damage, for the knight
+could neither force nor insinuate his point beyond the perfect guard of
+his unarmored foe, who, for his part, found difficulty in penetrating
+the other's armor.
+
+Finally, by dint of his mighty strength, Norman of Torn drove his blade
+through the meshes of his adversary's mail, and the fellow, with a cry
+of anguish, sank limply to the ground.
+
+"Quick, Sir Knight!" cried the girl. "Mount and flee; yonder come his
+fellows."
+
+And surely, as Norman of Torn turned in the direction from which he
+had just come, there, racing toward him at full tilt, rode three
+steel-armored men on their mighty horses.
+
+"Ride, madam," cried Norman of Torn, "for fly I shall not, nor may I,
+alone, unarmored, and on foot hope more than to momentarily delay these
+three fellows, but in that time you should easily make your escape.
+Their heavy-burdened animals could never o'ertake your fleet palfrey."
+
+As he spoke, he took note for the first time of the young woman. That
+she was a lady of quality was evidenced not alone by the richness of
+her riding apparel and the trappings of her palfrey, but as well in her
+noble and haughty demeanor and the proud expression of her beautiful
+face.
+
+Although at this time nearly twenty years had passed over the head of
+Norman of Torn, he was without knowledge or experience in the ways of
+women, nor had he ever spoken with a female of quality or position. No
+woman graced the castle of Torn nor had the boy, within his memory, ever
+known a mother.
+
+His attitude therefore was much the same toward women as it was toward
+men, except that he had sworn always to protect them. Possibly, in a
+way, he looked up to womankind, if it could be said that Norman of Torn
+looked up to anything: God, man or devil--it being more his way to look
+down upon all creatures whom he took the trouble to notice at all.
+
+As his glance rested upon this woman, whom fate had destined to
+alter the entire course of his life, Norman of Torn saw that she was
+beautiful, and that she was of that class against whom he had preyed for
+years with his band of outlaw cut-throats. Then he turned once more to
+face her enemies with the strange inconsistency which had ever marked
+his methods.
+
+Tomorrow he might be assaulting the ramparts of her father's castle, but
+today he was joyously offering to sacrifice his life for her--had she
+been the daughter of a charcoal burner he would have done no less. It
+was enough that she was a woman and in need of protection.
+
+The three knights were now fairly upon him, and with fine disregard for
+fair play, charged with couched spears the unarmored man on foot. But as
+the leading knight came close enough to behold his face, he cried out in
+surprise and consternation:
+
+"Mon Dieu, le Prince!" He wheeled his charging horse to one side. His
+fellows, hearing his cry, followed his example, and the three of them
+dashed on down the high road in as evident anxiety to escape as they had
+been keen to attack.
+
+"One would think they had met the devil," muttered Norman of Torn,
+looking after them in unfeigned astonishment.
+
+"What means it, lady?" he asked turning to the damsel, who had made no
+move to escape.
+
+"It means that your face is well known in your father's realm, my Lord
+Prince," she replied. "And the King's men have no desire to antagonize
+you, even though they may understand as little as I why you should
+espouse the cause of a daughter of Simon de Montfort."
+
+"Am I then taken for Prince Edward of England?" he asked.
+
+"An' who else should you be taken for, my Lord?"
+
+"I am not the Prince," said Norman of Torn. "It is said that Edward is
+in France."
+
+"Right you are, sir," exclaimed the girl. "I had not thought on that;
+but you be enough of his likeness that you might well deceive the Queen
+herself. And you be of a bravery fit for a king's son. Who are you
+then, Sir Knight, who has bared your steel and faced death for Bertrade,
+daughter of Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester?"
+
+"Be you De Montfort's daughter, niece of King Henry?" queried Norman of
+Torn, his eyes narrowing to mere slits and face hardening.
+
+"That I be," replied the girl, "an' from your face I take it you have
+little love for a De Montfort," she added, smiling.
+
+"An' whither may you be bound, Lady Bertrade de Montfort? Be you niece
+or daughter of the devil, yet still you be a woman, and I do not war
+against women. Wheresoever you would go will I accompany you to safety."
+
+"I was but now bound, under escort of five of my father's knights, to
+visit Mary, daughter of John de Stutevill of Derby."
+
+"I know the castle well," answered Norman of Torn, and the shadow of
+a grim smile played about his lips, for scarce sixty days had elapsed
+since he had reduced the stronghold, and levied tribute on the great
+baron. "Come, you have not far to travel now, and if we make haste you
+shall sup with your friend before dark."
+
+So saying, he mounted his horse and was turning to retrace their steps
+down the road when he noticed the body of the dead knight lying where it
+had fallen.
+
+"Ride on," he called to Bertrade de Montfort, "I will join you in an
+instant."
+
+Again dismounting, he returned to the side of his late adversary, and
+lifting the dead knight's visor, drew upon the forehead with the point
+of his dagger the letters NT.
+
+The girl turned to see what detained him, but his back was toward her
+and he knelt beside his fallen foeman, and she did not see his act.
+Brave daughter of a brave sire though she was, had she seen what he
+did, her heart would have quailed within her and she would have fled in
+terror from the clutches of this scourge of England, whose mark she
+had seen on the dead foreheads of a dozen of her father's knights and
+kinsmen.
+
+Their way to Stutevill lay past the cottage of Father Claude, and here
+Norman of Torn stopped to don his armor. Now he rode once more with
+lowered visor, and in silence, a little to the rear of Bertrade de
+Montfort that he might watch her face, which, of a sudden, had excited
+his interest.
+
+Never before, within the scope of his memory, had he been so close to a
+young and beautiful woman for so long a period of time, although he had
+often seen women in the castles that had fallen before his vicious and
+terrible attacks. While stories were abroad of his vile treatment of
+women captives, there was no truth in them. They were merely spread by
+his enemies to incite the people against him. Never had Norman of Torn
+laid violent hand upon a woman, and his cut-throat band were under oath
+to respect and protect the sex, on penalty of death.
+
+As he watched the semi-profile of the lovely face before him, something
+stirred in his heart which had been struggling for expression for years.
+It was not love, nor was it allied to love, but a deep longing for
+companionship of such as she, and such as she represented. Norman of
+Torn could not have translated this feeling into words for he did not
+know, but it was the far faint cry of blood for blood and with it,
+mayhap, was mixed not alone the longing of the lion among jackals for
+other lions, but for his lioness.
+
+They rode for many miles in silence when suddenly she turned, saying:
+
+"You take your time, Sir Knight, in answering my query. Who be ye?"
+
+"I am Nor--" and then he stopped. Always before he had answered that
+question with haughty pride. Why should he hesitate, he thought. Was it
+because he feared the loathing that name would inspire in the breast of
+this daughter of the aristocracy he despised? Did Norman of Torn fear
+to face the look of seem and repugnance that was sure to be mirrored in
+that lovely face?
+
+"I am from Normandy," he went on quietly. "A gentleman of France."
+
+"But your name?" she said peremptorily. "Are you ashamed of your name?"
+
+"You may call me Roger," he answered. "Roger de Conde."
+
+"Raise your visor, Roger de Conde," she commanded. "I do not take
+pleasure in riding with a suit of armor; I would see that there is a man
+within."
+
+Norman of Torn smiled as he did her bidding, and when he smiled thus, as
+he rarely did, he was good to look upon.
+
+"It is the first command I have obeyed since I turned sixteen, Bertrade
+de Montfort," he said.
+
+The girl was about nineteen, full of the vigor and gaiety of youth and
+health; and so the two rode on their journey talking and laughing as
+they might have been friends of long standing.
+
+She told him of the reason for the attack upon her earlier in the day,
+attributing it to an attempt on the part of a certain baron, Peter of
+Colfax, to abduct her, his suit for her hand having been peremptorily
+and roughly denied by her father.
+
+Simon de Montfort was no man to mince words, and it is doubtless that
+the old reprobate who sued for his daughter's hand heard some unsavory
+truths from the man who had twice scandalized England's nobility by his
+rude and discourteous, though true and candid, speeches to the King.
+
+"This Peter of Colfax shall be looked to," growled Norman of Torn. "And,
+as you have refused his heart and hand, his head shall be yours for the
+asking. You have but to command, Bertrade de Montfort."
+
+"Very well," she laughed, thinking it but the idle boasting so much
+indulged in in those days. "You may bring me his head upon a golden
+dish, Roger de Conde."
+
+"And what reward does the knight earn who brings to the feet of his
+princess the head of her enemy?" he asked lightly.
+
+"What boon would the knight ask?"
+
+"That whatsoever a bad report you hear of your knight, of whatsoever
+calumnies may be heaped upon him, you shall yet ever be his friend, and
+believe in his honor and his loyalty."
+
+The girl laughed gaily as she answered, though something seemed to tell
+her that this was more than play.
+
+"It shall be as you say, Sir Knight," she replied. "And the boon once
+granted shall be always kept."
+
+Quick to reach decisions and as quick to act, Norman of Torn decided
+that he liked this girl and that he wished her friendship more than any
+other thing he knew of. And wishing it, he determined to win it by any
+means that accorded with his standard of honor; an honor which in many
+respects was higher than that of the nobles of his time.
+
+They reached the castle of De Stutevill late in the afternoon, and
+there, Norman of Torn was graciously welcomed and urged to accept the
+Baron's hospitality overnight.
+
+The grim humor of the situation was too much for the outlaw, and, when
+added to his new desire to be in the company of Bertrade de Montfort, he
+made no effort to resist, but hastened to accept the warm welcome.
+
+At the long table upon which the evening meal was spread sat the entire
+household of the Baron, and here and there among the men were evidences
+of painful wounds but barely healed, while the host himself still wore
+his sword arm in a sling.
+
+"We have been through grievous times," said Sir John, noticing that his
+guest was glancing at the various evidences of conflict. "That fiend,
+Norman the Devil, with his filthy pack of cut-throats, besieged us for
+ten days, and then took the castle by storm and sacked it. Life is no
+longer safe in England with the King spending his time and money with
+foreign favorites and buying alien soldiery to fight against his own
+barons, instead of insuring the peace and protection which is the right
+of every Englishman at home.
+
+"But," he continued, "this outlaw devil will come to the end of a short
+halter when once our civil strife is settled, for the barons themselves
+have decided upon an expedition against him, if the King will not subdue
+him."
+
+"An' he may send the barons naked home as he did the King's soldiers,"
+laughed Bertrade de Montfort. "I should like to see this fellow; what
+may he look like--from the appearance of yourself, Sir John, and many of
+your men-at-arms, there should be no few here but have met him."
+
+"Not once did he raise his visor while he was among us," replied the
+Baron, "but there are those who claim they had a brief glimpse of him
+and that he is of horrid countenance, wearing a great yellow beard and
+having one eye gone, and a mighty red scar from his forehead to his
+chin."
+
+"A fearful apparition," murmured Norman of Torn. "No wonder he keeps his
+helm closed."
+
+"But such a swordsman," spoke up a son of De Stutevill. "Never in all
+the world was there such swordplay as I saw that day in the courtyard."
+
+"I, too, have seen some wonderful swordplay," said Bertrade de Montfort,
+"and that today. O he!" she cried, laughing gleefully, "verily do I
+believe I have captured the wild Norman of Torn, for this very knight,
+who styles himself Roger de Conde, fights as I ne'er saw man fight
+before, and he rode with his visor down until I chide him for it."
+
+Norman of Torn led in the laugh which followed, and of all the company
+he most enjoyed the joke.
+
+"An' speaking of the Devil," said the Baron, "how think you he will side
+should the King eventually force war upon the barons? With his thousand
+hell-hounds, the fate of England might well be in the palm of his bloody
+hand."
+
+"He loves neither King nor baron," spoke Mary de Stutevill, "and I
+rather lean to the thought that he will serve neither, but rather
+plunder the castles of both rebel and royalist whilst their masters be
+absent at war."
+
+"It be more to his liking to come while the master be home to welcome
+him," said De Stutevill, ruthfully. "But yet I am always in fear for the
+safety of my wife and daughters when I be away from Derby for any time.
+May the good God soon deliver England from this Devil of Torn."
+
+"I think you may have no need of fear on that score," spoke Mary, "for
+Norman of Torn offered no violence to any woman within the wall of
+Stutevill, and when one of his men laid a heavy hand upon me, it was the
+great outlaw himself who struck the fellow such a blow with his mailed
+hand as to crack the ruffian's helm, saying at the time, 'Know you,
+fellow, Norman of Torn does not war upon women?'"
+
+Presently the conversation turned to other subjects and Norman of Torn
+heard no more of himself during that evening.
+
+His stay at the castle of Stutevill was drawn out to three days, and
+then, on the third day, as he sat with Bertrade de Montfort in an
+embrasure of the south tower of the old castle, he spoke once more of
+the necessity for leaving and once more she urged him to remain.
+
+"To be with you, Bertrade of Montfort," he said boldly, "I would forego
+any other pleasure, and endure any privation, or face any danger, but
+there are others who look to me for guidance and my duty calls me away
+from you. You shall see me again, and at the castle of your father,
+Simon de Montfort, in Leicester. Provided," he added, "that you will
+welcome me there."
+
+"I shall always welcome you, wherever I may be, Roger de Conde," replied
+the girl.
+
+"Remember that promise," he said smiling. "Some day you may be glad to
+repudiate it."
+
+"Never," she insisted, and a light that shone in her eyes as she said it
+would have meant much to a man better versed in the ways of women than
+was Norman of Torn.
+
+"I hope not," he said gravely. "I cannot tell you, being but poorly
+trained in courtly ways, what I should like to tell you, that you
+might know how much your friendship means to me. Goodbye, Bertrade de
+Montfort," and he bent to one knee, as he raised her fingers to his
+lips.
+
+As he passed over the drawbridge and down toward the highroad a few
+minutes later on his way back to Torn, he turned for one last look at
+the castle and there, in an embrasure in the south tower, stood a
+young woman who raised her hand to wave, and then, as though by sudden
+impulse, threw a kiss after the departing knight, only to disappear from
+the embrasure with the act.
+
+As Norman of Torn rode back to his grim castle in the hills of Derby, he
+had much food for thought upon the way. Never till now had he realized
+what might lie in another manner of life, and he felt a twinge of
+bitterness toward the hard, old man whom he called father, and whose
+teachings from the boy's earliest childhood had guided him in the ways
+that had cut him off completely from the society of other men, except
+the wild horde of outlaws, ruffians and adventurers that rode beneath
+the grisly banner of the young chief of Torn.
+
+Only in an ill-defined, nebulous way did he feel that it was the girl
+who had come into his life that caused him for the first time to feel
+shame for his past deeds. He did not know the meaning of love, and so he
+could not know that he loved Bertrade de Montfort.
+
+And another thought which now filled his mind was the fact of his
+strange likeness to the Crown Prince of England. This, together with the
+words of Father Claude, puzzled him sorely. What might it mean? Was it a
+heinous offence to own an accidental likeness to a king's son?
+
+But now that he felt he had solved the reason that he rode always with
+closed helm, he was for the first time anxious himself to hide his face
+from the sight of men. Not from fear, for he knew not fear, but from
+some inward impulse which he did not attempt to fathom.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+As Norman of Torn rode out from the castle of De Stutevill, Father
+Claude dismounted from his sleek donkey within the ballium of Torn. The
+austere stronghold, notwithstanding its repellent exterior and unsavory
+reputation, always extended a warm welcome to the kindly, genial priest;
+not alone because of the deep friendship which the master of Torn felt
+for the good father, but through the personal charm, and lovableness of
+the 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 strong
+impressions, that the policy of the mighty outlaw was in many respects
+pure and lofty. It was this same influence, though, which won for Father
+Claude his only enemy in Torn; the little, grim, gray, old man whose
+sole aim in life seemed to have been to smother every finer instinct of
+chivalry and manhood in the boy, to whose training he had devoted the
+past 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 to
+lead the animal to the stables.
+
+The good priest called each of his willing helpers by name, asking a
+question here, passing a merry joke there with the ease and familiarity
+that bespoke mutual affection and old acquaintance.
+
+As he passed in through the great gate, the men-at-arms threw him
+laughing, though respectful, welcomes and within the great court,
+beautified with smooth lawn, beds of gorgeous plants, fountains, statues
+and small shrubs and bushes, he came upon the giant, Red Shandy, now the
+principal lieutenant of Norman of Torn.
+
+"Good morrow, Saint Claude!" cried the burly ruffian. "Hast come to save
+our 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, or
+praise?"
+
+"Neither, thou unregenerate villain," cried the priest, laughing.
+"Though methinks ye merit chiding for the grievous poor courtesy with
+which thou didst treat the great Bishop of Norwich the past week."
+
+"Tut, tut, Father," replied Red Shandy. "We did but aid him to adhere
+more closely to the injunctions and precepts of Him whose servant and
+disciple he claims to be. Were it not better for an Archbishop of His
+Church to walk in humility and poverty among His people, than to be ever
+surrounded 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 of
+wine as may be borne by two sumpter beasts when thou, red robber, had
+finished with him," exclaimed Father Claude.
+
+"Yes, Father," laughed the great fellow, "for the sake of Holy Church, I
+did indeed confiscate that temptation completely, and if you must needs
+have proof in order to absolve me from my sins, come with me now and you
+shall sample the excellent discrimination which the Bishop of Norwich
+displays in the selection of his temptations."
+
+"They tell me you left the great man quite destitute of finery, Red
+Shandy," continued Father Claude, as he locked his arm in that of the
+outlaw and proceeded toward the castle.
+
+"One garment was all that Norman of Torn would permit him, and as the
+sun was hot overhead, he selected for the Bishop a bassinet for that
+single article of apparel, to protect his tonsured pate from the rays of
+old sol. Then, fearing that it might be stolen from him by some vandals
+of the road, he had One Eye Kanty rivet it at each side of the gorget so
+that it could not be removed by other than a smithy, and thus, strapped
+face to tail upon a donkey, he sent the great Bishop of Norwich rattling
+down the dusty road with his head, at least, protected from the idle
+gaze of whomsoever he might chance to meet. Forty stripes he gave to
+each 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 of
+Torn entered. He spoke to Father Claude in a surly tone, asking him if
+he knew aught of the whereabouts of Norman of Torn.
+
+"We have seen nothing of him since, some three days gone, he rode out in
+the direction of your cottage," he concluded.
+
+"Why, yes," said the priest, "I saw him that day. He had an adventure
+with several knights from the castle of Peter of Colfax, from whom he
+rescued a damsel whom I suspect from the trappings of her palfrey to be
+of the house of Montfort. Together they rode north, but thy son did
+not say whither or for what purpose. His only remark, as he donned his
+armor, while the girl waited without, was that I should now behold the
+falcon guarding the dove. Hast he not returned?"
+
+"No," said the old man, "and doubtless his adventure is of a nature
+in line with thy puerile and effeminate teachings. Had he followed my
+training, without thy accurst priestly interference, he had made an
+iron-barred nest in Torn for many of the doves of thy damned English
+nobility. An' thou leave him not alone, he will soon be seeking service
+in the household of the King."
+
+"Where, perchance, he might be more at home than here," said the priest
+quietly.
+
+"Why say you that?" snapped the little old man, eyeing Father Claude
+narrowly.
+
+"Oh," laughed the priest, "because he whose power and mien be even more
+kingly than the King's would rightly grace the royal palace," but he had
+not failed to note the perturbation his remark had caused, nor did his
+off-hand reply entirely deceive the old man.
+
+At this juncture, a squire entered to say that Shandy's presence was
+required at the gates, and that worthy, with a sorrowing and regretful
+glance at the unemptied flagon, left the room.
+
+For a few moments, the two men sat in meditative silence, which was
+presently broken by the old man of Torn.
+
+"Priest," he said, "thy ways with my son are, as you know, not to my
+liking. It were needless that he should have wasted so much precious
+time from swordplay to learn the useless art of letters. Of what benefit
+may a knowledge of Latin be to one whose doom looms large before him. It
+may be years and again it may be but months, but as sure as there be a
+devil in hell, Norman of Torn will swing from a king's gibbet. And thou
+knowst it, and he too, as well as I. The things which thou hast taught
+him be above his station, and the hopes and ambitions they inspire will
+but make his end the bitterer for him. Of late I have noted that he
+rides upon the highway with less enthusiasm than was his wont, but he
+has 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 could
+you have engendered in his breast greater than to be hated and feared
+among his blood enemies?"
+
+"I knowst not thy reasons, old man," replied the priest, "for devoting
+thy life to the ruining of his, and what I guess at be such as I dare
+not voice; but let us understand each other once and for all. For all
+thou 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. As
+thou hast been his bad angel, so shall I try to be his good angel, and
+when all is said and done and Norman of Torn swings from the King's
+gibbet, as I only too well fear he must, there will be more to mourn his
+loss than there be to curse him.
+
+"His friends are from the ranks of the lowly, but so too were the
+friends and followers of our Dear Lord Jesus; so that shall be more
+greatly to his honor than had he preyed upon the already unfortunate.
+
+"Women have never been his prey; that also will be spoken of to his
+honor when he is gone, and that he has been cruel to men will be
+forgotten in the greater glory of his mercy to the weak.
+
+"Whatever be thy object: whether revenge or the natural bent of a cruel
+and degraded mind, I know not; but if any be curst because of the Outlaw
+of Torn, it will be thou--I had almost said, unnatural father; but I do
+not believe a single drop of thy debased blood flows in the veins of him
+thou 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 and
+rage, 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 has
+been peace between us, though no love; now let us both understand
+that it be war and hate. My life work is cut out for me. Others, like
+thyself, 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 table
+so that his eyes, burning with an insane fire of venom, blazed but a few
+inches 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 the
+door, which immediately swung open without waiting the formality of
+permission. Father Claude looked up to see the tall figure of Norman of
+Torn, 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 of
+Torn. 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 mean
+have none been captured or hanged for their murders. Ah, my boy, why
+wilt thou not give up this wicked life of thine? It has never been my
+way to scold or chide thee, yet always hath my heart ached for each
+crime laid at the door of Norman of Torn."
+
+"Come, come, Father," replied the outlaw, "what dost I that I have not
+good example for from the barons, and the King, and Holy Church. Murder,
+theft, rapine! Passeth a day over England which sees not one or all
+perpetrated in the name of some of these?
+
+"Be it wicked for Norman of Torn to prey upon the wolf, yet righteous
+for the wolf to tear the sheep? Methinks not. Only do I collect from
+those who have more than they need, from my natural enemies; while they
+prey upon those who have naught.
+
+"Yet," and his manner suddenly changed, "I do not love it, Father. That
+thou know. I would that there might be some way out of it, but there is
+none.
+
+"If I told you why I wished it, you would be surprised indeed, nor can I
+myself understand; but, of a verity, my greatest wish to be out of
+this life is due to the fact that I crave the association of those very
+enemies I have been taught to hate. But it is too late, Father, there
+can 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 good
+Father. "In some foreign clime there be opportunities abundant for such
+as thee. France offers a magnificent future to such a soldier as Norman
+of Torn. In the court of Louis, you would take your place among the
+highest of the land. You be rich and brave and handsome. Nay do not
+raise your hand. You be all these and more, for you have learning far
+beyond the majority of nobles, and you have a good heart and a true
+chivalry of character. With such wondrous gifts, naught could bar your
+way to the highest pinnacles of power and glory, while here you have no
+future beyond the halter. Canst thou hesitate, Norman of Torn?"
+
+The young man stood silent for a moment, then he drew his hand across
+his eyes as though to brush away a vision.
+
+"There be a reason, Father, why I must remain in England for a time at
+least, though the picture you put is indeed wondrous alluring."
+
+And the reason was Bertrade de Montfort.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+The visit of Bertrade de Montfort with her friend Mary de Stutevill
+was drawing to a close. Three weeks had passed since Roger de Conde had
+ridden out from the portals of Stutevill and many times the handsome
+young knight's name had been on the lips of his fair hostess and her
+fairer friend.
+
+Today the two girls roamed slowly through the gardens of the great
+court, their arms about each other's waists, pouring the last
+confidences into each other's ears, for tomorrow Bertrade had elected to
+return to Leicester.
+
+"Methinks thou be very rash indeed, my Bertrade," said Mary. "Wert my
+father here he would, I am sure, not permit thee to leave with only the
+small escort which we be able to give."
+
+"Fear not, Mary," replied Bertrade. "Five of thy father's knights be
+ample protection for so short a journey. By evening it will have been
+accomplished; and, as the only one I fear in these parts received such
+a sound set back from Roger de Conde recently, I do not think he will
+venture again to molest me."
+
+"But what about the Devil of Torn, Bertrade?" urged Mary. "Only
+yestereve, you wot, one of Lord de Grey's men-at-arms came limping to
+us with the news of the awful carnage the foul fiend had wrought on his
+master's household. He be abroad, Bertrade, and I canst think of naught
+more horrible than to fall into his hands."
+
+"Why, Mary, thou didst but recently say thy very self that Norman
+of Torn was most courteous to thee when he sacked this, thy father's
+castle. How be it thou so soon has changed thy mind?"
+
+"Yes, Bertrade, he was indeed respectful then, but who knows what
+horrid freak his mind may take, and they do say that he be cruel beyond
+compare. Again, forget not that thou be Leicester's daughter and Henry's
+niece; against both of whom the Outlaw of Torn openly swears his hatred
+and his vengeance. Oh, Bertrade, wait but for a day or so, I be sure
+my father must return ere then, and fifty knights shall accompany thee
+instead of five."
+
+"What be fifty knights against Norman of Torn, Mary? Thy reasoning is on
+a parity with thy fears, both have flown wide of the mark.
+
+"If I am to meet with this wild ruffian, it were better that five
+knights were sacrificed than fifty, for either number would be but a
+mouthful to that horrid horde of unhung murderers. No, Mary, I shall
+start tomorrow and your good knights shall return the following day with
+the best of word from me."
+
+"If thou wilst, thou wilst," cried Mary petulantly. "Indeed it were
+plain that thou be a De Montfort; that race whose historic bravery be
+second only to their historic stubbornness."
+
+Bertrade de Montfort laughed, and kissed her friend upon the cheek.
+
+"Mayhap I shall find the brave Roger de Conde again upon the highroad
+to protect me. Then indeed shall I send back your five knights, for of
+a truth, his blade is more powerful than that of any ten men I ere saw
+fight before."
+
+"Methinks," said Mary, still peeved at her friend's determination to
+leave on the morrow, "that should you meet the doughty Sir Roger all
+unarmed, that still would you send back my father's knights."
+
+Bertrade flushed, and then bit her lip as she felt the warm blood mount
+to her cheek.
+
+"Thou be a fool, Mary," she said.
+
+Mary broke into a joyful, teasing laugh; hugely enjoying the
+discomfiture of the admission the tell-tale flush proclaimed.
+
+"Ah, I did but guess how thy heart and thy mind tended, Bertrade; but
+now I seest that I divined all too truly. He be indeed good to look
+upon, but what knowest thou of him?"
+
+"Hush, Mary!" commanded Bertrade. "Thou know not what thou sayest. I
+would not wipe my feet upon him, I care naught whatever for him, and
+then--it has been three weeks since he rode out from Stutevill and no
+word hath he sent."
+
+"Oh, ho," cried the little plague, "so there lies the wind? My Lady
+would not wipe her feet upon him, but she be sore vexed that he has sent
+her no word. Mon Dieu, but thou hast strange notions, Bertrade."
+
+"I will not talk with you, Mary," cried Bertrade, stamping her sandaled
+foot, and with a toss of her pretty head she turned abruptly toward the
+castle.
+
+In a small chamber in the castle of Colfax two men sat at opposite sides
+of a little table. The one, Peter of Colfax, was short and very stout.
+His red, bloated face, bleary eyes and bulbous nose bespoke the manner
+of his life; while his thick lips, the lower hanging large and flabby
+over his receding chin, indicated the base passions to which his life
+and been given. His companion was a little, grim, gray man but his suit
+of armor and closed helm gave no hint to his host of whom his guest
+might be. It was the little armored man who was speaking.
+
+"Is it not enough that I offer to aid you, Sir Peter," he said, "that
+you must have my reasons? Let it go that my hate of Leicester be the
+passion which moves me. Thou failed in thy attempt to capture the
+maiden; give me ten knights and I will bring her to you."
+
+"How knowest thou she rides out tomorrow for her father's castle?" asked
+Peter of Colfax.
+
+"That again be no concern of thine, my friend, but I do know it, and, if
+thou wouldst have her, be quick, for we should ride out tonight that we
+may take our positions by the highway in ample time tomorrow."
+
+Still Peter of Colfax hesitated, he feared this might be a ruse of
+Leicester's to catch him in some trap. He did not know his guest--the
+fellow might want the girl for himself and be taking this method of
+obtaining the necessary assistance to capture her.
+
+"Come," said the little, armored man irritably. "I cannot bide here
+forever. Make up thy mind; it be nothing to me other than my revenge,
+and if thou wilst not do it, I shall hire the necessary ruffians and
+then not even thou shalt see Bertrade de Montfort more."
+
+This last threat decided the Baron.
+
+"It is agreed," he said. "The men shall ride out with you in half an
+hour. Wait below in the courtyard."
+
+When the little man had left the apartment, Peter of Colfax summoned his
+squire whom he had send to him at once one of his faithful henchmen.
+
+"Guy," said Peter of Colfax, as the man entered, "ye made a rare fizzle
+of a piece of business some weeks ago. Ye wot of which I speak?"
+
+"Yes, My Lord."
+
+"It chances that on the morrow ye may have opportunity to retrieve
+thy blunder. Ride out with ten men where the stranger who waits in the
+courtyard below shall lead ye, and come not back without that which ye
+lost to a handful of men before. You understand?"
+
+"Yes, My Lord!"
+
+"And, Guy, I half mistrust this fellow who hath offered to assist us.
+At the first sign of treachery, fall upon him with all thy men and slay
+him. Tell the others that these be my orders."
+
+"Yes, My Lord. When do we ride?"
+
+"At once. You may go."
+
+The morning that Bertrade de Montfort had chosen to return to her
+father's castle dawned gray and threatening. In vain did Mary de
+Stutevill plead with her friend to give up the idea of setting out
+upon such a dismal day and without sufficient escort, but Bertrade de
+Montfort was firm.
+
+"Already have I overstayed my time three days, and it is not lightly
+that even I, his daughter, fail in obedience to Simon de Montfort. I
+shall have enough to account for as it be. Do not urge me to add even
+one more day to my excuses. And again, perchance, my mother and my
+father may be sore distressed by my continued absence. No, Mary, I must
+ride today." And so she did, with the five knights that could be spared
+from the castle's defence.
+
+Scarcely half an hour had elapsed before a cold drizzle set in, so that
+they were indeed a sorry company that splashed along the muddy road,
+wrapped in mantle and surcoat. As they proceeded, the rain and wind
+increased in volume, until it was being driven into their faces in such
+blinding gusts that they must needs keep their eyes closed and trust to
+the instincts of their mounts.
+
+Less than half the journey had been accomplished. They were winding
+across a little hollow toward a low ridge covered with dense forest,
+into the somber shadows of which the road wound. There was a glint of
+armor among the drenched foliage, but the rain-buffeted eyes of the
+riders saw it not. On they came, their patient horses plodding slowly
+through the sticky road and hurtling storm.
+
+Now they were half way up the ridge's side. There was a movement in the
+dark shadows of the grim wood, and then, without cry or warning, a band
+of steel-clad horsemen broke forth with couched spears. Charging at full
+run down upon them, they overthrew three of the girl's escort before a
+blow could be struck in her defense. Her two remaining guardians wheeled
+to meet the return attack, and nobly did they acquit themselves, for it
+took the entire eleven who were pitted against them to overcome and slay
+the two.
+
+In the melee, none had noticed the girl, but presently one of her
+assailants, a little, grim, gray man, discovered that she had put spurs
+to her palfrey and escaped. Calling to his companions he set out at a
+rapid pace in pursuit.
+
+Reckless of the slippery road and the blinding rain, Bertrade de
+Montfort urged her mount into a wild run, for she had recognized the
+arms of Peter of Colfax on the shields of several of the attacking
+party.
+
+Nobly, the beautiful Arab bent to her call for speed. The great beasts
+of her pursuers, bred in Normandy and Flanders, might have been tethered
+in their stalls for all the chance they had of overtaking the flying
+white steed that fairly split the gray rain as lightning flies through
+the clouds.
+
+But for the fiendish cunning of the little grim, gray man's foresight,
+Bertrade de Montfort would have made good her escape that day. As it
+was, however, her fleet mount had carried her but two hundred yards ere,
+in the midst of the dark wood, she ran full upon a rope stretched across
+the roadway between two trees.
+
+As the horse fell, with a terrible lunge, tripped by the stout rope,
+Bertrade de Montfort was thrown far before him, where she lay, a little,
+limp bedraggled figure, in the mud of the road.
+
+There they found her. The little, grim, gray man did not even dismount,
+so indifferent was he to her fate; dead or in the hands of Peter of
+Colfax, it was all the same to him. In either event, his purpose would
+be accomplished, and Bertrade de Montfort would no longer lure Norman of
+Torn from the path he had laid out for him.
+
+That such an eventuality threatened, he knew from one Spizo the
+Spaniard, the single traitor in the service of Norman of Torn, whose
+mean aid the little grim, gray man had purchased since many months to
+spy upon the comings and goings of the great outlaw.
+
+The men of Peter of Colfax gathered up the lifeless form of Bertrade de
+Montfort and placed it across the saddle before one of their number.
+
+"Come," said the man called Guy, "if there be life left in her, we must
+hasten to Sir Peter before it be extinct."
+
+"I leave ye here," said the little old man. "My part of the business is
+done."
+
+And so he sat watching them until they had disappeared in the forest
+toward the castle of Colfax.
+
+Then he rode back to the scene of the encounter where lay the five
+knights of Sir John de Stutevill. Three were already dead, the other
+two, sorely but not mortally wounded, lay groaning by the roadside.
+
+The little grim, gray man dismounted as he came abreast of them and,
+with his long sword, silently finished the two wounded men. Then,
+drawing his dagger, he made a mark upon the dead foreheads of each of
+the five, and mounting, rode rapidly toward Torn.
+
+"And if one fact be not enough," he muttered, "that mark upon the dead
+will quite effectually stop further intercourse between the houses of
+Torn and Leicester."
+
+Henry de Montfort, son of Simon, rode fast and furious at the head of a
+dozen of his father's knights on the road to Stutevill.
+
+Bertrade de Montfort was so long overdue that the Earl and Princess
+Eleanor, his wife, filled with grave apprehensions, had posted their
+oldest son off to the castle of John de Stutevill to fetch her home.
+
+With the wind and rain at their backs, the little party rode rapidly
+along the muddy road, until late in the afternoon they came upon a white
+palfrey standing huddled beneath a great oak, his arched back toward the
+driving storm.
+
+"By God," cried De Montfort, "tis my sister's own Abdul. There be
+something wrong here indeed." But a rapid search of the vicinity, and
+loud calls brought no further evidence of the girl's whereabouts, so
+they pressed on toward Stutevill.
+
+Some two miles beyond the spot where the white palfrey had been found,
+they came upon the dead bodies of the five knights who had accompanied
+Bertrade from Stutevill.
+
+Dismounting, Henry de Montfort examined the bodies of the fallen men.
+The arms upon shield and helm confirmed his first fear that these had
+been Bertrade's escort from Stutevill.
+
+As he bent over them to see if he recognized any of the knights, there
+stared up into his face from the foreheads of the dead men the dreaded
+sign, NT, scratched there with a dagger's point.
+
+"The curse of God be on him!" cried De Montfort. "It be the work of the
+Devil of Torn, my gentlemen," he said to his followers. "Come, we need
+no further guide to our destination." And, remounting, the little party
+spurred back toward Torn.
+
+When Bertrade de Montfort regained her senses, she was in bed in a
+strange room, and above her bent an old woman; a repulsive, toothless
+old woman, whose smile was but a fangless snarl.
+
+"Ho, ho!" she croaked. "The bride waketh. I told My Lord that it would
+take more than a tumble in the mud to kill a De Montfort. Come, come,
+now, arise and clothe thyself, for the handsome bridegroom canst scarce
+restrain his eager desire to fold thee in his arms. Below in the
+great hall he paces to and fro, the red blood mantling his beauteous
+countenance."
+
+"Who be ye?" cried Bertrade de Montfort, her mind still dazed from
+the effects of her fall. "Where am I?" and then, "O, Mon Dieu!" as she
+remembered the events of the afternoon; and the arms of Colfax upon the
+shields of the attacking party. In an instant she realized the horror of
+her predicament; its utter hopelessness.
+
+Beast though he was, Peter of Colfax stood high in the favor of the
+King; and the fact that she was his niece would scarce aid her cause
+with Henry, for it was more than counter-balanced by the fact that she
+was the daughter of Simon de Montfort, whom he feared and hated.
+
+In the corridor without, she heard the heavy tramp of approaching feet,
+and presently a man's voice at the door.
+
+"Within there, Coll! Hast the damsel awakened from her swoon?"
+
+"Yes, Sir Peter," replied the old woman, "I was but just urging her to
+arise and clothe herself, saying that you awaited her below."
+
+"Haste then, My Lady Bertrade," called the man, "no harm will be done
+thee if thou showest the good sense I give thee credit for. I will await
+thee in the great hall, or, if thou prefer, wilt come to thee here."
+
+The girl paled, more in loathing and contempt than in fear, but the
+tones of her answer were calm and level.
+
+"I will see thee below, Sir Peter, anon," and rising, she hastened to
+dress, while the receding footsteps of the Baron diminished down the
+stairway which led from the tower room in which she was imprisoned.
+
+The old woman attempted to draw her into conversation, but the girl
+would not talk. Her whole mind was devoted to weighing each possible
+means of escape.
+
+A half hour later, she entered the great hall of the castle of Peter
+of Colfax. The room was empty. Little change had been wrought in the
+apartment since the days of Ethelwolf. As the girl's glance ranged the
+hall in search of her jailer it rested upon the narrow, unglazed windows
+beyond which lay freedom. Would she ever again breathe God's pure air
+outside these stifling walls? These grimy hateful walls! Black as the
+inky rafters and wainscot except for occasional splotches a few shades
+less begrimed, where repairs had been made. As her eyes fell upon the
+trophies of war and chase which hung there her lips curled in scorn, for
+she knew that they were acquisitions by inheritance rather than by the
+personal prowess of the present master of Colfax.
+
+A single cresset lighted the chamber, while the flickering light from
+a small wood fire upon one of the two great hearths seemed rather to
+accentuate the dim shadows of the place.
+
+Bertrade crossed the room and leaned against a massive oak table,
+blackened by age and hard usage to the color of the beams above, dented
+and nicked by the pounding of huge drinking horns and heavy swords when
+wild and lusty brawlers had been moved to applause by the lay of some
+wandering minstrel, or the sterner call of their mighty chieftains for
+the oath of fealty.
+
+Her wandering eyes took in the dozen benches and the few rude, heavy
+chairs which completed the rough furnishings of this rough room, and
+she shuddered. One little foot tapped sullenly upon the disordered floor
+which was littered with a miscellany of rushes interspread with such
+bones and scraps of food as the dogs had rejected or overlooked.
+
+But to none of these surroundings did Bertrade de Montfort give but
+passing heed; she looked for the man she sought that she might quickly
+have the encounter over and learn what fate the future held in store for
+her.
+
+Her quick glance had shown her that the room was quite empty, and that
+in addition to the main doorway at the lower end of the apartment, where
+she had entered, there was but one other door leading from the hall.
+This was at one side, and as it stood ajar she could see that it led
+into a small room, apparently a bedchamber.
+
+As she stood facing the main doorway, a panel opened quietly behind her
+and directly back of where the thrones had stood in past times. From the
+black mouth of the aperture stepped Peter of Colfax. Silently, he closed
+the panel after him, and with soundless steps, advanced toward the girl.
+At the edge of the raised dais he halted, rattling his sword to attract
+her attention.
+
+If his aim had been to unnerve her by the suddenness and mystery of his
+appearance, he failed signally, for she did not even turn her head as
+she said:
+
+"What explanation hast thou to make, Sir Peter, for this base treachery
+against thy neighbor's daughter and thy sovereign's niece?"
+
+"When fond hearts be thwarted by a cruel parent," replied the
+pot-bellied old beast in a soft and fawning tone, "love must still find
+its way; and so thy gallant swain hath dared the wrath of thy great
+father and majestic uncle, and lays his heart at thy feet, O beauteous
+Bertrade, knowing full well that thine hath been hungering after it
+since we didst first avow our love to thy hard-hearted sire. See, I
+kneel to thee, my dove!" And with cracking joints the fat baron plumped
+down upon his marrow bones.
+
+Bertrade turned and as she saw him her haughty countenance relaxed into
+a sneering smile.
+
+"Thou art a fool, Sir Peter," she said, "and, at that, the worst species
+of fool--an ancient fool. It is useless to pursue thy cause, for I will
+have none of thee. Let me hence, if thou be a gentleman, and no word of
+what hath transpired shall ever pass my lips. But let me go, 'tis all
+I ask, and it is useless to detain me for I cannot give what you would
+have. I do not love you, nor ever can I."
+
+Her first words had caused the red of humiliation to mottle his already
+ruby visage to a semblance of purple, and now, as he attempted to rise
+with dignity, he was still further covered with confusion by the fact
+that his huge stomach made it necessary for him to go upon all fours
+before he could rise, so that he got up much after the manner of a cow,
+raising his stern high in air in a most ludicrous fashion. As he gained
+his feet he saw the girl turn her head from him to hide the laughter on
+her face.
+
+"Return to thy chamber," he thundered. "I will give thee until tomorrow
+to decide whether thou wilt accept Peter of Colfax as thy husband, or
+take another position in his household which will bar thee for all time
+from the society of thy kind."
+
+The girl turned toward him, the laugh still playing on her lips.
+
+"I will be wife to no buffoon; to no clumsy old clown; to no debauched,
+degraded parody of a man. And as for thy other rash threat, thou hast
+not the guts to put thy wishes into deeds, thou craven coward, for well
+ye know that Simon de Montfort would cut out thy foul heart with his own
+hand if he ever suspected thou wert guilty of speaking of such to me,
+his daughter." And Bertrade de Montfort swept from the great hall, and
+mounted to her tower chamber in the ancient Saxon stronghold of Colfax.
+
+The old woman kept watch over her during the night and until late the
+following afternoon, when Peter of Colfax summoned his prisoner before
+him once more. So terribly had the old hag played upon the girl's fears
+that she felt fully certain that the Baron was quite equal to his dire
+threat, and so she had again been casting about for some means of escape
+or delay.
+
+The room in which she was imprisoned was in the west tower of the
+castle, fully a hundred feet above the moat, which the single embrasure
+overlooked. There was, therefore, no avenue of escape in this direction.
+The solitary door was furnished with huge oaken bars, and itself
+composed of mighty planks of the same wood, cross barred with iron.
+
+If she could but get the old woman out, thought Bertrade, she could
+barricade herself within and thus delay, at least, her impending fate
+in the hope that succor might come from some source. But her most subtle
+wiles proved ineffectual in ridding her, even for a moment, of her harpy
+jailer; and now that the final summons had come, she was beside herself
+for a lack of means to thwart her captor.
+
+Her dagger had been taken from her, but one hung from the girdle of the
+old woman and this Bertrade determined to have.
+
+Feigning trouble with the buckle of her own girdle, she called upon the
+old woman to aid her, and as the hag bent her head close to the girl's
+body to see what was wrong with the girdle clasp, Bertrade reached
+quickly to her side and snatched the weapon from its sheath. Quickly
+she sprang back from the old woman who, with a cry of anger and alarm,
+rushed upon her.
+
+"Back!" cried the girl. "Stand back, old hag, or thou shalt feel the
+length of thine own blade."
+
+The woman hesitated and then fell to cursing and blaspheming in a most
+horrible manner, at the same time calling for help.
+
+Bertrade backed to the door, commanding the old woman to remain where
+she was, on pain of death, and quickly dropped the mighty bars into
+place. Scarcely had the last great bolt been slipped than Peter of
+Colfax, with a dozen servants and men-at-arms, were pounding loudly upon
+the outside.
+
+"What's wrong within, Coll," cried the Baron.
+
+"The wench has wrested my dagger from me and is murdering me," shrieked
+the old woman.
+
+"An' that I will truly do, Peter of Colfax," spoke Bertrade, "if you do
+not immediately send for my friends to conduct me from thy castle, for
+I will not step my foot from this room until I know that mine own people
+stand without."
+
+Peter of Colfax pled and threatened, commanded and coaxed, but all in
+vain. So passed the afternoon, and as darkness settled upon the castle
+the Baron desisted from his attempts, intending to starve his prisoner
+out.
+
+Within the little room, Bertrade de Montfort sat upon a bench guarding
+her prisoner, from whom she did not dare move her eyes for a single
+second. All that long night she sat thus, and when morning dawned, it
+found her position unchanged, her tired eyes still fixed upon the hag.
+
+Early in the morning, Peter of Colfax resumed his endeavors to persuade
+her to come out; he even admitted defeat and promised her safe conduct
+to her father's castle, but Bertrade de Montfort was not one to be
+fooled by his lying tongue.
+
+"Then will I starve you out," he cried at length.
+
+"Gladly will I starve in preference to falling into thy foul hands,"
+replied the girl. "But thy old servant here will starve first, for she
+be very old and not so strong as I. Therefore, how will it profit you to
+kill two and still be robbed of thy prey?"
+
+Peter of Colfax entertained no doubt but that his fair prisoner would
+carry out her threat and so he set his men to work with cold chisels,
+axes and saws upon the huge door.
+
+For hours, they labored upon that mighty work of defence, and it was
+late at night ere they made a little opening large enough to admit a
+hand and arm, but the first one intruded within the room to raise the
+bars was drawn quickly back with a howl of pain from its owner. Thus
+the keen dagger in the girl's hand put an end to all hopes of entering
+without completely demolishing the door.
+
+To this work, the men without then set themselves diligently while Peter
+of Colfax renewed his entreaties, through the small opening they had
+made. Bertrade replied but once.
+
+"Seest thou this poniard?" she asked. "When that door falls, this point
+enters my heart. There is nothing beyond that door, with thou, poltroon,
+to which death in this little chamber would not be preferable."
+
+As she spoke, she turned toward the man she was addressing, for the
+first time during all those weary, hideous hours removing her glance
+from the old hag. It was enough. Silently, but with the quickness of a
+tigress the old woman was upon her back, one claw-like paw grasping the
+wrist which held the dagger.
+
+"Quick, My Lord!" she shrieked, "the bolts, quick."
+
+Instantly Peter of Colfax ran his arm through the tiny opening in the
+door and a second later four of his men rushed to the aid of the old
+woman.
+
+Easily they wrested the dagger from Bertrade's fingers, and at the
+Baron's bidding, they dragged her to the great hall below.
+
+As his retainers left the room at his command, Peter of Colfax strode
+back and forth upon the rushes which strewed the floor. Finally he
+stopped before the girl standing rigid in the center of the room.
+
+"Hast come to thy senses yet, Bertrade de Montfort?" he asked angrily.
+"I have offered you your choice; to be the honored wife of Peter of
+Colfax, or, by force, his mistress. The good priest waits without, what
+be your answer now?"
+
+"The same as it has been these past two days," she replied with haughty
+scorn. "The same that it shall always be. I will be neither wife nor
+mistress to a coward; a hideous, abhorrent pig of a man. I would die,
+it seems, if I felt the touch of your hand upon me. You do not dare to
+touch me, you craven. I, the daughter of an earl, the niece of a king,
+wed to the warty toad, Peter of Colfax!"
+
+"Hold, chit!" cried the Baron, livid with rage. "You have gone too far.
+Enough of this; and you love me not now, I shall learn you to love ere
+the sun rises." And with a vile oath he grasped the girl roughly by the
+arm, and dragged her toward the little doorway at the side of the room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+For three weeks after his meeting with Bertrade de Montfort and his
+sojourn at the castle of John de Stutevill, Norman of Torn was busy with
+his wild horde in reducing and sacking the castle of John de Grey, a
+royalist baron who had captured and hanged two of the outlaw's fighting
+men; and never again after his meeting with the daughter of the chief of
+the barons did Norman of Torn raise a hand against the rebels or their
+friends.
+
+Shortly after his return to Torn, following the successful outcome of
+his expedition, the watch upon the tower reported the approach of a
+dozen armed knights. Norman sent Red Shandy to the outer walls to learn
+the mission of the party, for visitors seldom came to this inaccessible
+and unhospitable fortress; and he well knew that no party of a dozen
+knights would venture with hostile intent within the clutches of his
+great band of villains.
+
+The great red giant soon returned to say that it was Henry de Montfort,
+oldest son of the Earl of Leicester, who had come under a flag of truce
+and would have speech with the master of Torn.
+
+"Admit them, Shandy," commanded Norman of Torn, "I will speak with them
+here."
+
+When the party, a few moments later, was ushered into his presence it
+found itself facing a mailed knight with drawn visor.
+
+Henry de Montfort advanced with haughty dignity until he faced the
+outlaw.
+
+"Be ye Norman of Torn?" he asked. And, did he try to conceal the hatred
+and loathing which he felt, he was poorly successful.
+
+"They call me so," replied the visored knight. "And what may bring a De
+Montfort after so many years to visit his old neighbor?"
+
+"Well ye know what brings me, Norman of Torn," replied the young man.
+"It is useless to waste words, and we cannot resort to arms, for you
+have us entirely in your power. Name your price and it shall be paid,
+only be quick and let me hence with my sister."
+
+"What wild words be these, Henry de Montfort? Your sister! What mean
+you?"
+
+"Yes, my sister Bertrade, whom you stole upon the highroad two days
+since, after murdering the knights of John de Stutevill who were
+fetching her home from a visit upon the Baron's daughter. We know that
+it was you for the foreheads of the dead men bore your devil's mark."
+
+"Shandy!" roared Norman of Torn. "WHAT MEANS THIS? Who has been upon the
+road, attacking women, in my absence? You were here and in charge during
+my visit to my Lord de Grey. As you value your hide, Shandy, the truth!"
+
+"Since you laid me low in the hut of the good priest, I have served you
+well, Norman of Torn. You should know my loyalty by this time and that
+never have I lied to you. No man of yours has done this thing, nor is
+it the first time that vile scoundrels have placed your mark upon their
+dead that they might thus escape suspicion, themselves."
+
+"Henry de Montfort," said Norman of Torn, turning to his visitor, "we of
+Torn bear no savory name, that I know full well, but no man may say that
+we unsheath our swords against women. Your sister is not here. I give
+you the word of honor of Norman of Torn. Is it not enough?"
+
+"They say you never lie," replied De Montfort. "Would to God I knew who
+had done this thing, or which way to search for my sister."
+
+Norman of Torn made no reply, his thoughts were in wild confusion, and
+it was with difficulty that he hid the fierce anxiety of his heart or
+his rage against the perpetrators of this dastardly act which tore his
+whole being.
+
+In silence De Montfort turned and left, nor had his party scarce passed
+the drawbridge ere the castle of Torn was filled with hurrying men and
+the noise and uproar of a sudden call to arms.
+
+Some thirty minutes later, five hundred iron-clad horses carried their
+mailed riders beneath the portcullis of the grim pile, and Norman the
+Devil, riding at their head, spurred rapidly in the direction of the
+castle of Peter of Colfax.
+
+The great troop, winding down the rocky trail from Torn's buttressed
+gates, presented a picture of wild barbaric splendor.
+
+The armor of the men was of every style and metal from the ancient
+banded mail of the Saxon to the richly ornamented plate armor of Milan.
+Gold and silver and precious stones set in plumed crest and breastplate
+and shield, and even in the steel spiked chamfrons of the horses' head
+armor showed the rich loot which had fallen to the portion of Norman of
+Torn's wild raiders.
+
+Fluttering pennons streamed from five hundred lance points, and the gray
+banner of Torn, with the black falcon's wing, flew above each of the
+five companies. The great linden wood shields of the men were covered
+with gray leather and, in the upper right hand corner of each, was the
+black falcon's wing. The surcoats of the riders were also uniform, being
+of dark gray villosa faced with black wolf skin, so that notwithstanding
+the richness of the armor and the horse trappings, there was a grim,
+gray warlike appearance to these wild companies that comported well with
+their reputation.
+
+Recruited from all ranks of society and from every civilized country of
+Europe, the great horde of Torn numbered in its ten companies serf and
+noble; Britain, Saxon, Norman, Dane, German, Italian and French, Scot,
+Pict and Irish.
+
+Here birth caused no distinctions; the escaped serf, with the gall
+marks of his brass collar still visible about his neck, rode shoulder to
+shoulder with the outlawed scion of a noble house. The only requisites
+for admission to the troop were willingness and ability to fight, and an
+oath to obey the laws made by Norman of Torn.
+
+The little army was divided into ten companies of one hundred men, each
+company captained by a fighter of proven worth and ability.
+
+Our old friends Red Shandy, and John and James Flory led the first three
+companies, the remaining seven being under command of other seasoned
+veterans of a thousand fights.
+
+One Eye Kanty, owing to his early trade, held the always important
+post of chief armorer, while Peter the Hermit, the last of the five
+cut-throats whom Norman of Torn had bested that day, six years before,
+in the hut of Father Claude, had become majordomo of the great castle of
+Torn, which post included also the vital functions of quartermaster and
+commissary.
+
+The old man of Torn attended to the training of serf and squire in
+the art of war, for it was ever necessary to fill the gaps made in the
+companies, due to their constant encounters upon the highroad and their
+battles at the taking of some feudal castle; in which they did not
+always come off unscathed, though usually victorious.
+
+Today, as they wound west across the valley, Norman of Torn rode at the
+head of the cavalcade, which strung out behind him in a long column.
+Above his gray steel armor, a falcon's wing rose from his crest. It was
+the insignia which always marked him to his men in the midst of battle.
+Where it waved might always be found the fighting and the honors, and
+about it they were wont to rally.
+
+Beside Norman of Torn rode the grim, gray, old man, silent and taciturn;
+nursing his deep hatred in the depths of his malign brain.
+
+At the head of their respective companies rode the five captains: Red
+Shandy; John Flory; Edwild the Serf; Emilio, Count de Gropello of Italy;
+and Sieur Ralph de la Campnee, of France.
+
+The hamlets and huts which they passed in the morning and early
+afternoon brought forth men, women and children to cheer and wave
+God-speed to them; but as they passed farther from the vicinity of Torn,
+where the black falcon wing was known more by the ferocity of its
+name than by the kindly deeds of the great outlaw to the lowly of his
+neighborhood, they saw only closed and barred doors with an occasional
+frightened face peering from a tiny window.
+
+It was midnight ere they sighted the black towers of Colfax silhouetted
+against the starry sky. Drawing his men into the shadows of the forest
+a half mile from the castle, Norman of Torn rode forward with Shandy
+and some fifty men to a point as close as they could come without being
+observed. Here they dismounted and Norman of Torn crept stealthily
+forward alone.
+
+Taking advantage of every cover, he approached to the very shadows of
+the great gate without being detected. In the castle, a light shone
+dimly from the windows of the great hall, but no other sign of life was
+apparent. To his intense surprise, Norman of Torn found the drawbridge
+lowered and no sign of watchmen at the gate or upon the walls.
+
+As he had sacked this castle some two years since, he was familiar with
+its internal plan, and so he knew that through the scullery he could
+reach a small antechamber above, which let directly into the great hall.
+
+And so it happened that, as Peter of Colfax wheeled toward the door of
+the little room, he stopped short in terror, for there before him stood
+a strange knight in armor, with lowered visor and drawn sword. The girl
+saw him too, and a look of hope and renewed courage overspread her face.
+
+"Draw!" commanded a low voice in English, "unless you prefer to pray,
+for you are about to die."
+
+"Who be ye, varlet?" cried the Baron. "Ho, John! Ho, Guy! To the rescue,
+quick!" he shrieked, and drawing his sword, he attempted to back quickly
+toward the main doorway of the hall; but the man in armor was upon him
+and forcing him to fight ere he had taken three steps.
+
+It had been short shrift for Peter of Colfax that night had not John and
+Guy and another of his henchmen rushed into the room with drawn swords.
+
+"Ware! Sir Knight," cried the girl, as she saw the three knaves rushing
+to the aid of their master.
+
+Turning to meet their assault, the knight was forced to abandon the
+terror-stricken Baron for an instant, and again he had made for the
+doorway bent only on escape; but the girl had divined his intentions,
+and running quickly to the entrance, she turned the great lock and threw
+the key with all her might to the far corner of the hall. In an instant
+she regretted her act, for she saw that where she might have reduced
+her rescuer's opponents by at least one, she had now forced the cowardly
+Baron to remain, and nothing fights more fiercely than a cornered rat.
+
+The knight was holding his own splendidly with the three retainers, and
+for an instant Bertrade de Montfort stood spell-bound by the exhibition
+of swordsmanship she was witnessing.
+
+Fighting the three alternately, in pairs and again all at the same
+time, the silent knight, though weighted by his heavy armor, forced them
+steadily back; his flashing blade seeming to weave a net of steel about
+them. Suddenly his sword stopped just for an instant, stopped in the
+heart of one of his opponents, and as the man lunged to the floor,
+it was flashing again close to the breasts of the two remaining
+men-at-arms.
+
+Another went down less than ten seconds later, and then the girl's
+attention was called to the face of the horrified Baron; Peter of Colfax
+was moving--slowly and cautiously, he was creeping, from behind, toward
+the visored knight, and in his raised hand flashed a sharp dagger.
+
+For an instant, the girl stood frozen with horror, unable to move a
+finger or to cry out; but only for an instant, and then, regaining
+control of her muscles, she stooped quickly and, grasping a heavy
+foot-stool, hurled it full at Peter of Colfax.
+
+It struck him below the knees and toppled him to the floor just as the
+knight's sword passed through the throat of his final antagonist.
+
+As the Baron fell, he struck heavily upon a table which supported
+the only lighted cresset within the chamber. In an instant, all was
+darkness. There was a rapid shuffling sound as of the scurrying of rats
+and then the quiet of the tomb settled upon the great hall.
+
+"Are you safe and unhurt, my Lady Bertrade?" asked a grave English voice
+out of the darkness.
+
+"Quite, Sir Knight," she replied, "and you?"
+
+"Not a scratch, but where is our good friend the Baron?"
+
+"He lay here upon the floor but a moment since, and carried a thin long
+dagger in his hand. Have a care, Sir Knight, he may even now be upon
+you."
+
+The knight did not answer, but she heard him moving boldly about the
+room. Soon he had found another lamp and made a light. As its feeble
+rays slowly penetrated the black gloom, the girl saw the bodies of
+the three men-at-arms, the overturned table and lamp, and the visored
+knight; but Peter of Colfax was gone.
+
+The knight perceived his absence at the same time, but he only laughed a
+low, grim laugh.
+
+"He will not go far, My Lady Bertrade," he said.
+
+"How know you my name?" she asked. "Who may you be? I do not recognize
+your armor, and your breastplate bears no arms."
+
+He did not answer at once and her heart rose in her breast as it filled
+with the hope that her brave rescuer might be the same Roger de Conde
+who had saved her from the hirelings of Peter of Colfax but a few short
+weeks since. Surely it was the same straight and mighty figure, and
+there was the marvelous swordplay as well. It must be he, and yet Roger
+de Conde had spoken no English while this man spoke it well, though, it
+was true, with a slight French accent.
+
+"My Lady Bertrade, I be Norman of Torn," said the visored knight with
+quiet dignity.
+
+The girl's heart sank, and a feeling of cold fear crept through her. For
+years that name had been the symbol of fierce cruelty, and mad hatred
+against her kind. Little children were frightened into obedience by the
+vaguest hint that the Devil of Torn would get them, and grown men had
+come to whisper the name with grim, set lips.
+
+"Norman of Torn!" she whispered. "May God have mercy on my soul!"
+
+Beneath the visored helm, a wave of pain and sorrow surged across
+the countenance of the outlaw, and a little shudder, as of a chill of
+hopelessness, shook his giant frame.
+
+"You need not fear, My Lady," he said sadly. "You shall be in your
+father's castle of Leicester ere the sun marks noon. And you will be
+safer under the protection of the hated Devil of Torn than with your own
+mighty father, or your royal uncle."
+
+"It is said that you never lie, Norman of Torn," spoke the girl, "and I
+believe you, but tell me why you thus befriend a De Montfort."
+
+"It is not for love of your father or your brothers, nor yet hatred of
+Peter of Colfax, nor neither for any reward whatsoever. It pleases me to
+do as I do, that is all. Come."
+
+He led her in silence to the courtyard and across the lowered
+drawbridge, to where they soon discovered a group of horsemen, and in
+answer to a low challenge from Shandy, Norman of Torn replied that it
+was he.
+
+"Take a dozen men, Shandy, and search yon hellhole. Bring out to me,
+alive, Peter of Colfax, and My Lady's cloak and a palfrey--and Shandy,
+when all is done as I say, you may apply the torch! But no looting,
+Shandy."
+
+Shandy looked in surprise upon his leader, for the torch had never been
+a weapon of Norman of Torn, while loot, if not always the prime object
+of his many raids, was at least a very important consideration.
+
+The outlaw noticed the surprised hesitation of his faithful subaltern
+and signing him to listen, said:
+
+"Red Shandy, Norman of Torn has fought and sacked and pillaged for
+the love of it, and for a principle which was at best but a vague
+generality. Tonight we ride to redress a wrong done to My Lady Bertrade
+de Montfort, and that, Shandy, is a different matter. The torch, Shandy,
+from tower to scullery, but in the service of My Lady, no looting."
+
+"Yes, My Lord," answered Shandy, and departed with his little
+detachment.
+
+In a half hour he returned with a dozen prisoners, but no Peter of
+Colfax.
+
+"He has flown, My Lord," the big fellow reported, and indeed it was
+true. Peter of Colfax had passed through the vaults beneath his castle
+and, by a long subterranean passage, had reached the quarters of some
+priests without the lines of Norman of Torn. By this time, he was
+several miles on his way to the coast and France; for he had recognized
+the swordsmanship of the outlaw, and did not care to remain in England
+and face the wrath of both Norman of Torn and Simon de Montfort.
+
+"He will return," was the outlaw's only comment, when he had been fully
+convinced that the Baron had escaped.
+
+They watched until the castle had burst into flames in a dozen places,
+the prisoners huddled together in terror and apprehension, fully
+expecting a summary and horrible death.
+
+When Norman of Torn had assured himself that no human power could now
+save the doomed pile, he ordered that the march be taken up, and the
+warriors filed down the roadway behind their leader and Bertrade de
+Montfort, leaving their erstwhile prisoners sorely puzzled but unharmed
+and free.
+
+As they looked back, they saw the heavens red with the great flames
+that sprang high above the lofty towers. Immense volumes of dense smoke
+rolled southward across the sky line. Occasionally it would clear away
+from the burning castle for an instant to show the black walls pierced
+by their hundreds of embrasures, each lit up by the red of the raging
+fire within. It was a gorgeous, impressive spectacle, but one so common
+in those fierce, wild days, that none thought it worthy of more than a
+passing backward glance.
+
+Varied emotions filled the breasts of the several riders who wended
+their slow way down the mud-slippery road. Norman of Torn was both
+elated and sad. Elated that he had been in time to save this girl
+who awakened such strange emotions in his breast; sad that he was a
+loathesome thing in her eyes. But that it was pure happiness just to be
+near her, sufficed him for the time; of the morrow, what use to think!
+The little, grim, gray, old man of Torn nursed the spleen he did not
+dare vent openly, and cursed the chance that had sent Henry de Montfort
+to Torn to search for his sister; while the followers of the outlaw
+swore quietly over the vagary which had brought them on this long ride
+without either fighting or loot.
+
+Bertrade de Montfort was but filled with wonder that she should owe her
+life and honor to this fierce, wild cut-throat who had sworn especial
+hatred against her family, because of its relationship to the house of
+Plantagenet. She could not fathom it, and yet, he seemed fair spoken
+for so rough a man; she wondered what manner of countenance might lie
+beneath that barred visor.
+
+Once the outlaw took his cloak from its fastenings at his saddle's
+cantel and threw it about the shoulders of the girl, for the night air
+was chilly, and again he dismounted and led her palfrey around a bad
+place in the road, lest the beast might slip and fall.
+
+She thanked him in her courtly manner for these services, but beyond
+that, no word passed between them, and they came, in silence, about
+midday within sight of the castle of Simon de Montfort.
+
+The watch upon the tower was thrown into confusion by the approach of
+so large a party of armed men, so that, by the time they were in hailing
+distance, the walls of the great structure were crowded with fighting
+men.
+
+Shandy rode ahead with a flag of truce, and when he was beneath the
+castle walls Simon de Montfort called forth:
+
+"Who be ye and what your mission? Peace or war?"
+
+"It is Norman of Torn, come in peace, and in the service of a De
+Montfort," replied Shandy. "He would enter with one companion, my Lord
+Earl."
+
+"Dares Norman of Torn enter the castle of Simon de Montfort--thinks he
+that I keep a robbers' roost!" cried the fierce old warrior.
+
+"Norman of Torn dares ride where he will in all England," boasted the
+red giant. "Will you see him in peace, My Lord?"
+
+"Let him enter," said De Montfort, "but no knavery, now, we are a
+thousand men here, well armed and ready fighters."
+
+Shandy returned to his master with the reply, and together, Norman of
+Torn and Bertrade de Montfort clattered across the drawbridge beneath
+the portcullis of the castle of the Earl of Leicester, brother-in-law of
+Henry III of England.
+
+The girl was still wrapped in the great cloak of her protector, for it
+had been raining, so that she rode beneath the eyes of her father's men
+without being recognized. In the courtyard, they were met by Simon de
+Montfort, and his sons Henry and Simon.
+
+The girl threw herself impetuously from her mount, and, flinging aside
+the outlaw's cloak, rushed toward her astounded parent.
+
+"What means this," cried De Montfort, "has the rascal offered you harm
+or indignity?"
+
+"You craven liar," cried Henry de Montfort, "but yesterday you swore
+upon your honor that you did not hold my sister, and I, like a fool,
+believed." And with his words, the young man flung himself upon Norman
+of Torn with drawn sword.
+
+Quicker than the eye could see, the sword of the visored knight flew
+from its scabbard, and, with a single lightning-like move, sent the
+blade of young De Montfort hurtling cross the courtyard; and then,
+before either could take another step, Bertrade de Montfort had sprung
+between them and placing a hand upon the breastplate of the outlaw,
+stretched forth the other with palm out-turned toward her kinsmen as
+though to protect Norman of Torn from further assault.
+
+"Be he outlaw or devil," she cried, "he is a brave and courteous knight,
+and he deserves from the hands of the De Montforts the best hospitality
+they can give, and not cold steel and insults." Then she explained
+briefly to her astonished father and brothers what had befallen during
+the past few days.
+
+Henry de Montfort, with the fine chivalry that marked him, was the first
+to step forward with outstretched hand to thank Norman of Torn, and to
+ask his pardon for his rude words and hostile act.
+
+The outlaw but held up his open palm, as he said,
+
+"Let the De Montforts think well ere they take the hand of Norman of
+Torn. I give not my hand except in friendship, and not for a passing
+moment; but for life. I appreciate your present feelings of gratitude,
+but let them not blind you to the fact that I am still Norman the Devil,
+and that you have seen my mark upon the brows of your dead. I would
+gladly have your friendship, but I wish it for the man, Norman of
+Torn, with all his faults, as well as what virtues you may think him to
+possess."
+
+"You are right, sir," said the Earl, "you have our gratitude and our
+thanks for the service you have rendered the house of Montfort, and ever
+during our lives you may command our favors. I admire your bravery and
+your candor, but while you continue the Outlaw of Torn, you may not
+break bread at the table of De Montfort as a friend would have the right
+to do."
+
+"Your speech is that of a wise and careful man," said Norman of Torn
+quietly. "I go, but remember that from this day, I have no quarrel with
+the House of Simon de Montfort, and that should you need my arms, they
+are at your service, a thousand strong. Goodbye." But as he turned to
+go, Bertrade de Montfort confronted him with outstretched hand.
+
+"You must take my hand in friendship," she said, "for, to my dying day,
+I must ever bless the name of Norman of Torn because of the horror from
+which he has rescued me."
+
+He took the little fingers in his mailed hand, and bending upon one knee
+raised them to his lips.
+
+"To no other--woman, man, king, God, or devil--has Norman of Torn bent
+the knee. If ever you need him, My Lady Bertrade, remember that his
+services are yours for the asking."
+
+And turning, he mounted and rode in silence from the courtyard of
+the castle of Leicester. Without a backward glance, and with his five
+hundred men at his back, Norman of Torn disappeared beyond a turning in
+the roadway.
+
+"A strange man," said Simon de Montfort, "both good and bad, but from
+today, I shall ever believe more good than bad. Would that he were other
+than he be, for his arm would wield a heavy sword against the enemies of
+England, an he could be persuaded to our cause."
+
+"Who knows," said Henry de Montfort, "but that an offer of friendship
+might have won him to a better life. It seemed that in his speech was a
+note of wistfulness. I wish, father, that we had taken his hand."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+Several days after Norman of Torn's visit to the castle of Leicester,
+a young knight appeared before the Earl's gates demanding admittance to
+have speech with Simon de Montfort. The Earl received him, and as the
+young man entered his presence, Simon de Montfort, sprang to his feet in
+astonishment.
+
+"My Lord Prince," he cried. "What do ye here, and alone?"
+
+The young man smiled.
+
+"I be no prince, My Lord," he said, "though some have said that I favor
+the King's son. I be Roger de Conde, whom it may have pleased your
+gracious daughter to mention. I have come to pay homage to Bertrade de
+Montfort."
+
+"Ah," said De Montfort, rising to greet the young knight cordially, "an
+you be that Roger de Conde who rescued my daughter from the fellows of
+Peter of Colfax, the arms of the De Montforts are open to you.
+
+"Bertrade has had your name upon her tongue many times since her return.
+She will be glad indeed to receive you, as is her father. She has told
+us of your valiant espousal of her cause, and the thanks of her brothers
+and mother await you, Roger de Conde.
+
+"She also told us of your strange likeness to Prince Edward, but until I
+saw you, I could not believe two men could be born of different mothers
+and yet be so identical. Come, we will seek out my daughter and her
+mother."
+
+De Montfort led the young man to a small chamber where they were greeted
+by Princess Eleanor, his wife, and by Bertrade de Montfort. The girl was
+frankly glad to see him once more and laughingly chide him because he
+had allowed another to usurp his prerogative and rescue her from Peter
+of Colfax.
+
+"And to think," she cried, "that it should have been Norman of Torn who
+fulfilled your duties for you. But he did not capture Sir Peter's head,
+my friend; that is still at large to be brought to me upon a golden
+dish."
+
+"I have not forgotten, Lady Bertrade," said Roger de Conde. "Peter of
+Colfax will return."
+
+The girl glanced at him quickly.
+
+"The very words of the Outlaw of Torn," she said. "How many men be ye,
+Roger de Conde? With raised visor, you could pass in the King's court
+for the King's son; and in manner, and form, and swordsmanship, and your
+visor lowered, you might easily be hanged for Norman of Torn."
+
+"And which would it please ye most that I be?" he laughed.
+
+"Neither," she answered, "I be satisfied with my friend, Roger de
+Conde."
+
+"So ye like not the Devil of Torn?" he asked.
+
+"He has done me a great service, and I be under monstrous obligations
+to him, but he be, nathless, the Outlaw of Torn and I the daughter of an
+earl and a king's sister."
+
+"A most unbridgeable gulf indeed," commented Roger de Conde, drily. "Not
+even gratitude could lead a king's niece to receive Norman of Torn on a
+footing of equality."
+
+"He has my friendship, always," said the girl, "but I doubt me if Norman
+of Torn be the man to impose upon it."
+
+"One can never tell," said Roger de Conde, "what manner of fool a man
+may be. When a man's head be filled with a pretty face, what room be
+there for reason?"
+
+"Soon thou wilt be a courtier, if thou keep long at this turning of
+pretty compliments," said the girl coldly; "and I like not courtiers,
+nor their empty, hypocritical chatter."
+
+The man laughed.
+
+"If I turned a compliment, I did not know it," he said. "What I think, I
+say. It may not be a courtly speech or it may. I know nothing of courts
+and care less, but be it man or maid to whom I speak, I say what is in
+my mind or I say nothing. I did not, in so many words, say that you are
+beautiful, but I think it nevertheless, and ye cannot be angry with
+my poor eyes if they deceive me into believing that no fairer woman
+breathes the air of England. Nor can you chide my sinful brain that it
+gladly believes what mine eyes tell it. No, you may not be angry so long
+as I do not tell you all this."
+
+Bertrade de Montfort did not know how to answer so ridiculous a
+sophistry; and, truth to tell, she was more than pleased to hear from
+the lips of Roger de Conde what bored her on the tongues of other men.
+
+De Conde was the guest of the Earl of Leicester for several days, and
+before his visit was terminated, the young man had so won his way into
+the good graces of the family that they were loath to see him leave.
+
+Although denied the society of such as these throughout his entire life,
+yet it seemed that he fell as naturally into the ways of their kind as
+though he had always been among them. His starved soul, groping through
+the darkness of the empty past, yearned toward the feasting and the
+light of friendship, and urged him to turn his back upon the old life,
+and remain ever with these people, for Simon de Montfort had offered the
+young man a position of trust and honor in his retinue.
+
+"Why refused you the offer of my father?" said Bertrade to him as he
+was come to bid her farewell. "Simon de Montfort is as great a man in
+England as the King himself, and your future were assured did you attach
+your self to his person. But what am I saying! Did Roger de Conde not
+wish to be elsewhere, he had accepted and, as he did not accept, it is
+proof positive that he does not wish to bide among the De Montforts."
+
+"I would give my soul to the devil," said Norman of Torn, "would it buy
+me the right to remain ever at the feet of Bertrade Montfort."
+
+He raised her hand to his lips in farewell as he started to speak,
+but something--was it an almost imperceptible pressure of her little
+fingers, a quickening of her breath or a swaying of her body toward
+him?--caused him to pause and raise his eyes to hers.
+
+For an instant they stood thus, the eyes of the man sinking deep into
+the eyes of the maid, and then hers closed and with a little sigh that
+was half gasp, she swayed toward him, and the Devil of Torn folded the
+King's niece in his mighty arms and his lips placed the seal of a great
+love upon those that were upturned to him.
+
+The touch of those pure lips brought the man to himself.
+
+"Ah, Bertrade, my Bertrade," he cried, "what is this thing that I have
+done! Forgive me, and let the greatness and the purity of my love for
+you plead in extenuation of my act."
+
+She looked up into his face in surprise, and then placing her strong
+white hands upon his shoulders, she whispered:
+
+"See, Roger, I am not angry. It is not wrong that we love; tell me it is
+not, Roger."
+
+"You must not say that you love me, Bertrade. I am a coward, a craven
+poltroon; but, God, how I love you."
+
+"But," said the girl, "I do love--"
+
+"Stop," he cried, "not yet, not yet. Do not say it till I come again.
+You know nothing of me, you do not know even who I be; but when next I
+come, I promise that ye shall know as much of me as I myself know, and
+then, Bertrade, my Bertrade, if you can then say, 'I love you' no power
+on earth, or in heaven above, or hell below shall keep you from being
+mine!"
+
+"I will wait, Roger, for I believe in you and trust you. I do not
+understand, but I know that you must have some good reason, though
+it all seems very strange to me. If I, a De Montfort, am willing to
+acknowledge my love for any man, there can be no reason why I should
+not do so, unless," and she started at the sudden thought, wide-eyed and
+paling, "unless there be another woman, a--a--wife?"
+
+"There is no other woman, Bertrade," said Norman of Torn. "I have
+no wife; nor within the limits of my memory have my lips ever before
+touched the lips of another, for I do not remember my mother."
+
+She sighed a happy little sigh of relief, and laughing lightly, said:
+
+"It is some old woman's bugaboo that you are haling out of a dark corner
+of your imagination to frighten yourself with. I do not fear, since I
+know that you must be all good. There be no line of vice or deception
+upon your face and you are very brave. So brave and noble a man, Roger,
+has a heart of pure gold."
+
+"Don't," he said, bitterly. "I cannot endure it. Wait until I come again
+and then, oh my flower of all England, if you have it in your heart
+to speak as you are speaking now, the sun of my happiness will be at
+zenith. Then, but not before, shall I speak to the Earl, thy father.
+Farewell, Bertrade, in a few days I return."
+
+"If you would speak to the Earl on such a subject, you insolent young
+puppy, you may save your breath," thundered an angry voice, and Simon de
+Montfort strode, scowling, into the room.
+
+The girl paled, but not from fear of her father, for the fighting blood
+of the De Montforts was as strong in her as in her sire. She faced
+him with as brave and resolute a face as did the young man, who turned
+slowly, fixing De Montfort with level gaze.
+
+"I heard enough of your words as I was passing through the corridor,"
+continued the latter, "to readily guess what had gone before. So it
+is for this that you have wormed your sneaking way into my home? And
+thought you that Simon de Montfort would throw his daughter at the head
+of the first passing rogue? Who be ye, but a nameless rascal? For aught
+we know, some low born lackey. Get ye hence, and be only thankful that I
+do not aid you with the toe of my boot where it would do the most good."
+
+"Stop!" cried the girl. "Stop, father, hast forgot that but for Roger
+de Conde ye might have seen your daughter a corpse ere now, or, worse,
+herself befouled and dishonored?"
+
+"I do not forget," replied the Earl, "and it is because I remember that
+my sword remains in its scabbard. The fellow has been amply repaid by
+the friendship of De Montfort, but now this act of perfidy has wiped
+clean the score. An' you would go in peace, sirrah, go quickly, ere I
+lose my temper."
+
+"There has been some misunderstanding on your part, My Lord," spoke
+Norman of Torn, quietly and without apparent anger or excitement. "Your
+daughter has not told me that she loves me, nor did I contemplate asking
+you for her hand. When next I come, first shall I see her and if she
+will have me, My Lord, I shall come to you to tell you that I shall wed
+her. Norm--Roger de Conde asks permission of no man to do what he would
+do."
+
+Simon de Montfort was fairly bursting with rage but he managed to
+control himself to say,
+
+"My daughter weds whom I select, and even now I have practically closed
+negotiations for her betrothal to Prince Philip, nephew of King Louis
+of France. And as for you, sir, I would as lief see her the wife of the
+Outlaw of Torn. He, at least, has wealth and power, and a name that be
+known outside his own armor. But enough of this; get you gone, nor let
+me see your face again within the walls of Leicester's castle."
+
+"You are right, My Lord, it were foolish and idle for us to be
+quarreling with words," said the outlaw. "Farewell, My Lady. I shall
+return as I promised, and your word shall be law." And with a profound
+bow to De Montfort, Norman of Torn left the apartment, and in a few
+minutes was riding through the courtyard of the castle toward the main
+portals.
+
+As he passed beneath a window in the castle wall, a voice called to
+him from above, and drawing in his horse, he looked up into the eyes of
+Bertrade de Montfort.
+
+"Take this, Roger de Conde," she whispered, dropping a tiny parcel to
+him, "and wear it ever, for my sake. We may never meet again, for the
+Earl my father, is a mighty man, not easily turned from his decisions;
+therefore I shall say to you, Roger de Conde, what you forbid my saying.
+I love you, and be ye prince or scullion, you may have me, if you can
+find the means to take me."
+
+"Wait, my lady, until I return, then shall you decide, and if ye be
+of the same mind as today, never fear but that I shall take ye. Again,
+farewell." And with a brave smile that hid a sad heart, Norman of Torn
+passed out of the castle yard.
+
+When he undid the parcel which Bertrade had tossed to him, he found that
+it contained a beautifully wrought ring set with a single opal.
+
+The Outlaw of Torn raised the little circlet to his lips, and then
+slipped it upon the third finger of his left hand.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+Norman of Torn did not return to the castle of Leicester "in a few
+days," nor for many months. For news came to him that Bertrade de
+Montfort had been posted off to France in charge of her mother.
+
+From now on, the forces of Torn were employed in repeated attacks
+on royalist barons, encroaching ever and ever southward until even
+Berkshire and Surrey and Sussex felt the weight of the iron hand of the
+outlaw.
+
+Nearly a year had elapsed since that day when he had held the fair form
+of Bertrade de Montfort in his arms, and in all that time he had heard
+no word from her.
+
+He would have followed her to France but for the fact that, after he had
+parted from her and the intoxication of her immediate presence had left
+his brain clear to think rationally, he had realized the futility of
+his hopes, and he had seen that the pressing of his suit could mean only
+suffering and mortification for the woman he loved.
+
+His better judgment told him that she, on her part, when freed from
+the subtle spell woven by the nearness and the newness of a first love,
+would doubtless be glad to forget the words she had spoken in the
+heat of a divine passion. He would wait, then, until fate threw them
+together, and should that ever chance, while she was still free, he
+would let her know that Roger de Conde and the Outlaw of Torn were one
+and the same.
+
+If she wants me then, he thought, but she will not. No it is impossible.
+It is better that she marry her French prince than to live, dishonored,
+the wife of a common highwayman; for though she might love me at first,
+the bitterness and loneliness of her life would turn her love to hate.
+
+As the outlaw was sitting one day in the little cottage of Father
+Claude, the priest reverted to the subject of many past conversations;
+the unsettled state of civil conditions in the realm, and the stand
+which Norman of Torn would take when open hostilities between King and
+baron were declared.
+
+"It would seem that Henry," said the priest, "by his continued breaches
+of both the spirit and letter of the Oxford Statutes, is but urging the
+barons to resort to arms; and the fact that he virtually forced Prince
+Edward to take up arms against Humphrey de Bohun last fall, and to carry
+the ravages of war throughout the Welsh border provinces, convinces me
+that he be, by this time, well equipped to resist De Montfort and his
+associates."
+
+"If that be the case," said Norman of Torn, "we shall have war and
+fighting in real earnest ere many months."
+
+"And under which standard does My Lord Norman expect to fight?" asked
+Father Claude.
+
+"Under the black falcon's wing," laughed he of Torn.
+
+"Thou be indeed a close-mouthed man, my son," said the priest, smiling.
+"Such an attribute helpeth make a great statesman. With thy soldierly
+qualities in addition, my dear boy, there be a great future for thee in
+the paths of honest men. Dost remember our past talk?"
+
+"Yes, father, well; and often have I thought on't. I have one more duty
+to perform here in England and then, it may be, that I shall act on thy
+suggestion, but only on one condition."
+
+"What be that, my son?"
+
+"That wheresoere I go, thou must go also. Thou be my best friend; in
+truth, my father; none other have I ever known, for the little old
+man of Torn, even though I be the product of his loins, which I much
+mistrust, be no father to me."
+
+The priest sat looking intently at the young man for many minutes before
+he spoke.
+
+Without the cottage, a swarthy figure skulked beneath one of the
+windows, listening to such fragments of the conversation within as came
+to his attentive ears. It was Spizo, the Spaniard. He crouched entirely
+concealed by a great lilac bush, which many times before had hid his
+traitorous form.
+
+At length the priest spoke.
+
+"Norman of Torn," he said, "so long as thou remain in England, pitting
+thy great host against the Plantagenet King and the nobles and barons of
+his realm, thou be but serving as the cats-paw of another. Thyself hast
+said an hundred times that thou knowst not the reason for thy hatred
+against them. Thou be too strong a man to so throw thy life uselessly
+away to satisfy the choler of another.
+
+"There be that of which I dare not speak to thee yet and only may I
+guess and dream of what I think, nor do I know whether I must hope
+that it be false or true, but now, if ever, the time hath come for the
+question to be settled. Thou hast not told me in so many words, but I be
+an old man and versed in reading true between the lines, and so I know
+that thou lovest Bertrade de Montfort. Nay, do not deny it. And now,
+what I would say be this. In all England there lives no more honorable
+man than Simon de Montfort, nor none who could more truly decide upon
+thy future and thy past. Thou may not understand of what I hint, but
+thou know that thou may trust me, Norman of Torn."
+
+"Yea, even with my life and honor, my father," replied the outlaw.
+
+"Then promise me, that with the old man of Torn alone, thou wilt come
+hither when I bidst thee and meet Simon de Montfort, and abide by his
+decision should my surmises concerning thee be correct. He will be the
+best judge of any in England, save two who must now remain nameless."
+
+"I will come, Father, but it must be soon for on the fourth day we ride
+south."
+
+"It shall be by the third day, or not at all," replied Father Claude,
+and Norman of Torn, rising to leave, wondered at the moving leaves of
+the lilac bush without the window, for there was no breeze.
+
+Spizo, the Spaniard, reached Torn several minutes before the outlaw
+chief and had already poured his tale into the ears of the little, grim,
+gray, old man.
+
+As the priest's words were detailed to him the old man of Torn paled in
+anger.
+
+"The fool priest will upset the whole work to which I have devoted
+near twenty years," he muttered, "if I find not the means to quiet his
+half-wit tongue. Between priest and petticoat, it be all but ruined now.
+Well then, so much the sooner must I act, and I know not but that now be
+as good a time as any. If we come near enough to the King's men on this
+trip south, the gibbet shall have its own, and a Plantagenet dog shall
+taste the fruits of his own tyranny," then glancing up and realizing
+that Spizo, the Spaniard, had been a listener, the old man, scowling,
+cried:
+
+"What said I, sirrah? What didst hear?"
+
+"Naught, My Lord; thou didst but mutter incoherently," replied the
+Spaniard.
+
+The old man eyed him closely.
+
+"An did I more, Spizo, thou heardst naught but muttering, remember."
+
+"Yes, My Lord."
+
+An hour later, the old man of Torn dismounted before the cottage of
+Father Claude and entered.
+
+"I am honored," said the priest, rising.
+
+"Priest," cried the old man, coming immediately to the point, "Norman
+of Torn tells me that thou wish him and me and Leicester to meet here. I
+know not what thy purpose may be, but for the boy's sake, carry not out
+thy design as yet. I may not tell thee my reasons, but it be best that
+this meeting take place after we return from the south."
+
+The old man had never spoken so fairly to Father Claude before, and so
+the latter was quite deceived and promised to let the matter rest until
+later.
+
+A few days after, in the summer of 1263, Norman of Torn rode at the head
+of his army of outlaws through the county of Essex, down toward London
+town. One thousand fighting men there were, with squires and other
+servants, and five hundred sumpter beasts to transport their tents and
+other impedimenta, and bring back the loot.
+
+But a small force of ailing men-at-arms, and servants had been left to
+guard the castle of Torn under the able direction of Peter the Hermit.
+
+At the column's head rode Norman of Torn and the little grim, gray,
+old man; and behind them, nine companies of knights, followed by the
+catapult detachment; then came the sumpter beasts. Horsan the Dane, with
+his company, formed the rear guard. Three hundred yards in advance of
+the column rode ten men to guard against surprise and ambuscades.
+
+The pennons, and the banners and the bugles; and the loud rattling of
+sword, and lance and armor and iron-shod hoof carried to the eye and ear
+ample assurance that this great cavalcade of iron men was bent upon no
+peaceful mission.
+
+All his captains rode today with Norman of Torn. Beside those whom
+we have met, there was Don Piedro Castro y Pensilo of Spain; Baron
+of Cobarth of Germany, and Sir John Mandecote of England. Like their
+leader, each of these fierce warriors carried a great price upon his
+head, and the story of the life of any one would fill a large volume
+with romance, war, intrigue, treachery, bravery and death.
+
+Toward noon one day, in the midst of a beautiful valley of Essex, they
+came upon a party of ten knights escorting two young women. The meeting
+was at a turn in the road, so that the two parties were upon each other
+before the ten knights had an opportunity to escape with their fair
+wards.
+
+"What the devil be this," cried one of the knights, as the main body of
+the outlaw horde came into view, "the King's army or one of his foreign
+legions?"
+
+"It be Norman of Torn and his fighting men," replied the outlaw.
+
+The faces of the knights blanched, for they were ten against a thousand,
+and there were two women with them.
+
+"Who be ye?" said the outlaw.
+
+"I am Richard de Tany of Essex," said the oldest knight, he who
+had first spoken, "and these be my daughter and her friend, Mary de
+Stutevill. We are upon our way from London to my castle. What would you
+of us? Name your price, if it can be paid with honor, it shall be paid;
+only let us go our way in peace. We cannot hope to resist the Devil of
+Torn, for we be but ten lances. If ye must have blood, at least let the
+women go unharmed."
+
+"My Lady Mary is an old friend," said the outlaw. "I called at her
+father's home but little more than a year since. We are neighbors, and
+the lady can tell you that women are safer at the hands of Norman of
+Torn than they might be in the King's palace."
+
+"Right he is," spoke up Lady Mary, "Norman of Torn accorded my mother,
+my sister, and myself the utmost respect; though I cannot say as much
+for his treatment of my father," she added, half smiling.
+
+"I have no quarrel with you, Richard de Tany," said Norman of Torn.
+"Ride on."
+
+The next day, a young man hailed the watch upon the walls of the castle
+of Richard de Tany, telling him to bear word to Joan de Tany that Roger
+de Conde, a friend of her guest Lady Mary de Stutevill, was without.
+
+In a few moments, the great drawbridge sank slowly into place and Norman
+of Torn trotted into the courtyard.
+
+He was escorted to an apartment where Mary de Stutevill and Joan de Tany
+were waiting to receive him. Mary de Stutevill greeted him as an old
+friend, and the daughter of de Tany was no less cordial in welcoming her
+friend's friend to the hospitality of her father's castle.
+
+"Are all your old friends and neighbors come after you to Essex," cried
+Joan de Tany, laughingly, addressing Mary. "Today it is Roger de
+Conde, yesterday it was the Outlaw of Torn. Methinks Derby will soon be
+depopulated unless you return quickly to your home."
+
+"I rather think it be for news of another that we owe this visit from
+Roger de Conde," said Mary, smiling. "For I have heard tales, and I
+see a great ring upon the gentleman's hand--a ring which I have seen
+before."
+
+Norman of Torn made no attempt to deny the reason for his visit, but
+asked bluntly if she heard aught of Bertrade de Montfort.
+
+"Thrice within the year have I received missives from her," replied
+Mary. "In the first two she spoke only of Roger de Conde, wondering why
+he did not come to France after her; but in the last she mentions not
+his name, but speaks of her approaching marriage with Prince Philip."
+
+Both girls were watching the countenance of Roger de Conde narrowly,
+but no sign of the sorrow which filled his heart showed itself upon his
+face.
+
+"I guess it be better so," he said quietly. "The daughter of a De
+Montfort could scarcely be happy with a nameless adventurer," he added,
+a little bitterly.
+
+"You wrong her, my friend," said Mary de Stutevill. "She loved you and,
+unless I know not the friend of my childhood as well as I know myself,
+she loves you yet; but Bertrade de Montfort is a proud woman and what
+can you expect when she hears no word from you for a year? Thought
+you that she would seek you out and implore you to rescue her from the
+alliance her father has made for her?"
+
+"You do not understand," he answered, "and I may not tell you; but I ask
+that you believe me when I say that it was for her own peace of mind,
+for her own happiness, that I did not follow her to France. But, let us
+talk of other things. The sorrow is mine and I would not force it upon
+others. I cared only to know that she is well, and, I hope, happy. It
+will never be given to me to make her or any other woman so. I would
+that I had never come into her life, but I did not know what I was
+doing; and the spell of her beauty and goodness was strong upon me, so
+that I was weak and could not resist what I had never known before in
+all my life--love."
+
+"You could not well be blamed," said Joan de Tany, generously. "Bertrade
+de Montfort is all and even more than you have said; it be a benediction
+simply to have known her."
+
+As she spoke, Norman of Torn looked upon her critically for the first
+time, and he saw that Joan de Tany was beautiful, and that when she
+spoke, her face lighted with a hundred little changing expressions of
+intelligence and character that cast a spell of fascination about her.
+Yes, Joan de Tany was good to look upon, and Norman of Torn carried
+a wounded heart in his breast that longed for surcease from its
+sufferings--for a healing balm upon its hurts and bruises.
+
+And so it came to pass that, for many days, the Outlaw of Torn was a
+daily visitor at the castle of Richard de Tany, and the acquaintance
+between the man and the two girls ripened into a deep friendship, and
+with one of them, it threatened even more.
+
+Norman of Torn, in his ignorance of the ways of women, saw only
+friendship in the little acts of Joan de Tany. His life had been a hard
+and lonely one. The only ray of brilliant and warming sunshine that had
+entered it had been his love for Bertrade de Montfort and hers for him.
+
+His every thought was loyal to the woman whom he knew was not for him,
+but he longed for the companionship of his own kind and so welcomed the
+friendship of such as Joan de Tany and her fair guest. He did not dream
+that either looked upon him with any warmer sentiment than the sweet
+friendliness which was as new to him as love--how could he mark the line
+between or foresee the terrible price of his ignorance!
+
+Mary de Stutevill saw and she thought the man but fickle and shallow
+in matters of the heart--many there were, she knew, who were thus. She
+might have warned him had she known the truth, but instead, she let
+things drift except for a single word of warning to Joan de Tany.
+
+"Be careful of thy heart, Joan," she said, "lest it be getting away from
+thee into the keeping of one who seems to love no less quickly than he
+forgets."
+
+The daughter of De Tany flushed.
+
+"I am quite capable of safeguarding my own heart, Mary de Stutevill,"
+she replied warmly. "If thou covet this man thyself, why, but say so. Do
+not think though that, because thy heart glows in his presence, mine is
+equally susceptible."
+
+It was Mary's turn now to show offense, and a sharp retort was on her
+tongue when suddenly she realized the folly of such a useless quarrel.
+Instead she put her arms about Joan and kissed her.
+
+"I do not love him," she said, "and I be glad that you do not, for
+I know that Bertrade does, and that but a short year since, he swore
+undying love for her. Let us forget that we have spoken on the subject."
+
+It was at this time that the King's soldiers were harassing the lands of
+the rebel barons, and taking a heavy toll in revenge for their stinging
+defeat at Rochester earlier in the year, so that it was scarcely safe
+for small parties to venture upon the roadways lest they fall into the
+hands of the mercenaries of Henry III.
+
+Not even were the wives and daughters of the barons exempt from the
+attacks of the royalists; and it was no uncommon occurrence to find them
+suffering imprisonment, and something worse, at the hands of the King's
+supporters.
+
+And in the midst of these alarms, it entered the willful head of Joan de
+Tany that she wished to ride to London town and visit the shops of the
+merchants.
+
+While London itself was solidly for the barons and against the King's
+party, the road between the castle of Richard de Tany and the city of
+London was beset with many dangers.
+
+"Why," cried the girl's mother in exasperation, "between robbers and
+royalists and the Outlaw of Torn, you would not be safe if you had an
+army to escort you."
+
+"But then, as I have no army," retorted the laughing girl, "if you
+reason by your own logic, I shall be indeed quite safe."
+
+And when Roger de Conde attempted to dissuade her, she taunted him with
+being afraid of meeting with the Devil of Torn, and told him that he
+might remain at home and lock himself safely in her mother's pantry.
+
+And so, as Joan de Tany was a spoiled child, they set out upon the road
+to London; the two girls with a dozen servants and knights; and Roger de
+Conde was of the party.
+
+At the same time a grim, gray, old man dispatched a messenger from the
+outlaw's camp; a swarthy fellow, disguised as a priest, whose orders
+were to proceed to London, and when he saw the party of Joan de Tany,
+with Roger de Conde, enter the city, he was to deliver the letter he
+bore to the captain of the gate.
+
+The letter contained this brief message:
+
+"The tall knight in gray with closed helm is Norman of Torn," and was
+unsigned.
+
+All went well and Joan was laughing merrily at the fears of those who
+had attempted to dissuade her when, at a cross road, they discovered two
+parties of armed men approaching from opposite directions. The leader
+of the nearer party spurred forward to intercept the little band, and,
+reining in before them, cried brusquely,
+
+"Who be ye?"
+
+"A party on a peaceful mission to the shops of London," replied Norman
+of Torn.
+
+"I asked not your mission," cried the fellow. "I asked, who be ye?
+Answer, and be quick about it."
+
+"I be Roger de Conde, gentleman of France, and these be my sisters and
+servants," lied the outlaw, "and were it not that the ladies be with me,
+your answer would be couched in steel, as you deserve for your boorish
+insolence."
+
+"There be plenty of room and time for that even now, you dog of a French
+coward," cried the officer, couching his lance as he spoke.
+
+Joan de Tany was sitting her horse where she could see the face of Roger
+de Conde, and it filled her heart with pride and courage as she saw and
+understood the little smile of satisfaction that touched his lips as he
+heard the man's challenge and lowered the point of his own spear.
+
+Wheeling their horses toward one another, the two combatants, who were
+some ninety feet apart, charged at full tilt. As they came together the
+impact was so great that both horses were nearly overturned and the two
+powerful war lances were splintered into a hundred fragments as each
+struck the exact center of his opponent's shield. Then, wheeling their
+horses and throwing away the butts of their now useless lances, De Conde
+and the officer advanced with drawn swords.
+
+The fellow made a most vicious return assault upon De Conde, attempting
+to ride him down in one mad rush, but his thrust passed harmlessly from
+the tip of the outlaw's sword, and as the officer wheeled back to renew
+the battle, they settled down to fierce combat, their horses wheeling
+and turning shoulder to shoulder.
+
+The two girls sat rigid in their saddles watching the encounter, the
+eyes of Joan de Tany alight with the fire of battle as she followed
+every move of the wondrous swordplay of Roger de Conde.
+
+He had not even taken the precaution to lower his visor, and the grim
+and haughty smile that played upon his lips spoke louder than many words
+the utter contempt in which he held the sword of his adversary. And as
+Joan de Tany watched, she saw the smile suddenly freeze to a cold, hard
+line, and the eyes of the man narrow to mere slits, and her woman's
+intuition read the death warrant of the King's officer ere the sword of
+the outlaw buried itself in his heart.
+
+The other members of the two bodies of royalist soldiers had sat
+spellbound as they watched the battle, but now, as their leader's corpse
+rolled from the saddle, they spurred furiously in upon De Conde and his
+little party.
+
+The Baron's men put up a noble fight, but the odds were heavy and even
+with the mighty arm of Norman of Torn upon their side the outcome was
+apparent from the first.
+
+Five swords were flashing about the outlaw, but his blade was equal to
+the thrust and one after another of his assailants crumpled up in their
+saddles as his leaping point found their vitals.
+
+Nearly all of the Baron's men were down, when one, an old servitor,
+spurred to the side of Joan de Tany and Mary de Stutevill.
+
+"Come, my ladies," he cried, "quick and you may escape. They be so busy
+with the battle that they will never notice."
+
+"Take the Lady Mary, John," cried Joan, "I brought Roger de Conde to
+this pass against the advice of all and I remain with him to the end."
+
+"But, My Lady--" cried John.
+
+"But nothing, sirrah!" she interrupted sharply. "Do as you are bid.
+Follow my Lady Mary, and see that she comes to my father's castle in
+safety," and raising her riding whip, she struck Mary's palfrey across
+the rump so that the animal nearly unseated his fair rider as he leaped
+frantically to one side and started madly up the road down which they
+had come.
+
+"After her, John," commanded Joan peremptorily, "and see that you turn
+not back until she be safe within the castle walls; then you may bring
+aid."
+
+The old fellow had been wont to obey the imperious little Lady Joan from
+her earliest childhood, and the habit was so strong upon him that he
+wheeled his horse and galloped after the flying palfrey of the Lady Mary
+de Stutevill.
+
+As Joan de Tany turned again to the encounter before her, she saw fully
+twenty men surrounding Roger de Conde, and while he was taking heavy
+toll of those before him, he could not cope with the men who attacked
+him from behind; and even as she looked, she saw a battle axe fall full
+upon his helm, and his sword drop from his nerveless fingers as his
+lifeless body rolled from the back of Sir Mortimer to the battle-tramped
+clay of the highroad.
+
+She slid quickly from her palfrey and ran fearlessly toward his
+prostrate form, reckless of the tangled mass of snorting, trampling,
+steel-clad horses, and surging fighting-men that surrounded him. And
+well it was for Norman of Torn that this brave girl was there that day,
+for even as she reached his side, the sword point of one of the soldiers
+was at his throat for the coup de grace.
+
+With a cry, Joan de Tany threw herself across the outlaw's body,
+shielding him as best she could from the threatening sword.
+
+Cursing loudly, the soldier grasped her roughly by the arm to drag her
+from his prey, but at this juncture, a richly armored knight galloped up
+and drew rein beside the party.
+
+The newcomer was a man of about forty-five or fifty; tall, handsome,
+black-mustached and with the haughty arrogance of pride most often
+seen upon the faces of those who have been raised by unmerited favor to
+positions of power and affluence.
+
+He was John de Fulm, Earl of Buckingham, a foreigner by birth and for
+years one of the King's favorites; the bitterest enemy of De Montfort
+and the barons.
+
+"What now?" he cried. "What goes on here?"
+
+The soldiers fell back, and one of them replied:
+
+"A party of the King's enemies attacked us, My Lord Earl, but we routed
+them, taking these two prisoners."
+
+"Who be ye?" he said, turning toward Joan who was kneeling beside De
+Conde, and as she raised her head, "My God! The daughter of De Tany! a
+noble prize indeed my men. And who be the knight?"
+
+"Look for yourself, My Lord Earl," replied the girl removing the helm,
+which she had been unlacing from the fallen man.
+
+"Edward?" he ejaculated. "But no, it cannot be, I did but yesterday
+leave Edward in Dover."
+
+"I know not who he be," said Joan de Tany, "except that he be the most
+marvelous fighter and the bravest man it has ever been given me to see.
+He called himself Roger de Conde, but I know nothing of him other than
+that he looks like a prince, and fights like a devil. I think he has no
+quarrel with either side, My Lord, and so, as you certainly do not make
+war on women, you will let us go our way in peace as we were when your
+soldiers wantonly set upon us."
+
+"A De Tany, madam, were a great and valuable capture in these troublous
+times," replied the Earl, "and that alone were enough to necessitate my
+keeping you; but a beautiful De Tany is yet a different matter and so I
+will grant you at least one favor. I will not take you to the King, but
+a prisoner you shall be in mine own castle for I am alone, and need the
+cheering company of a fair and loving lady."
+
+The girl's head went high as she looked the Earl full in the eye.
+
+"Think you, John de Fulm, Earl of Buckingham, that you be talking to
+some comely scullery maid? Do you forget that my house is honored
+in England, even though it does not share the King's favors with his
+foreign favorites, and you owe respect to a daughter of a De Tany?"
+
+"All be fair in war, my beauty," replied the Earl. "Egad," he continued,
+"methinks all would be fair in hell were they like unto you. It has been
+some years since I have seen you and I did not know the old fox Richard
+de Tany kept such a package as this hid in his grimy old castle."
+
+"Then you refuse to release us?" said Joan de Tany.
+
+"Let us not put it thus harshly," countered the Earl. "Rather let us say
+that it be so late in the day, and the way so beset with dangers that
+the Earl of Buckingham could not bring himself to expose the beautiful
+daughter of his old friend to the perils of the road, and so--"
+
+"Let us have an end to such foolishness," cried the girl. "I might have
+expected naught better from a turncoat foreign knave such as thee,
+who once joined in the councils of De Montfort, and then betrayed his
+friends to curry favor with the King."
+
+The Earl paled with rage, and pressed forward as though to strike the
+girl, but thinking better of it, he turned to one of the soldiers,
+saying:
+
+"Bring the prisoner with you. If the man lives bring him also. I would
+learn more of this fellow who masquerades in the countenance of a crown
+prince."
+
+And turning, he spurred on towards the neighboring castle of a rebel
+baron which had been captured by the royalists, and was now used as
+headquarters by De Fulm.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+When Norman of Torn regained his senses, he found himself in a small
+tower room in a strange castle. His head ached horribly, and he felt
+sick and sore; but he managed to crawl from the cot on which he lay, and
+by steadying his swaying body with hands pressed against the wall, he
+was able to reach the door. To his disappointment, he found this locked
+from without and, in his weakened condition, he made no attempt to force
+it.
+
+He was fully dressed and in armor, as he had been when struck down, but
+his helmet was gone, as were also his sword and dagger.
+
+The day was drawing to a close and, as dusk fell and the room darkened,
+he became more and more impatient. Repeated pounding upon the door
+brought no response and finally he gave up in despair. Going to
+the window, he saw that his room was some thirty feet above the
+stone-flagged courtyard, and also that it looked at an angle upon other
+windows in the old castle where lights were beginning to show. He saw
+men-at-arms moving about, and once he thought he caught a glimpse of a
+woman's figure, but he was not sure.
+
+He wondered what had become of Joan de Tany and Mary de Stutevill. He
+hoped that they had escaped, and yet--no, Joan certainly had not, for
+now he distinctly remembered that his eyes had met hers for an instant
+just before the blow fell upon him, and he thought of the faith and
+confidence that he had read in that quick glance. Such a look would
+nerve a jackal to attack a drove of lions, thought the outlaw. What a
+beautiful creature she was; and she had stayed there with him during the
+fight. He remembered now. Mary de Stutevill had not been with her as he
+had caught that glimpse of her, no, she had been all alone. Ah! That was
+friendship indeed!
+
+What else was it that tried to force its way above the threshold of his
+bruised and wavering memory? Words? Words of love? And lips pressed to
+his? No, it must be but a figment of his wounded brain.
+
+What was that which clicked against his breastplate? He felt, and found
+a metal bauble linked to a mesh of his steel armor by a strand of silken
+hair. He carried the little thing to the window, and in the waning light
+made it out to be a golden hair ornament set with precious stones, but
+he could not tell if the little strand of silken hair were black or
+brown. Carefully he detached the little thing, and, winding the filmy
+tress about it, placed it within the breast of his tunic. He was vaguely
+troubled by it, yet why he could scarcely have told, himself.
+
+Again turning to the window, he watched the lighted rooms within his
+vision, and presently his view was rewarded by the sight of a knight
+coming within the scope of the narrow casement of a nearby chamber.
+
+From his apparel, he was a man of position, and he was evidently in
+heated discussion with some one whom Norman of Torn could not see. The
+man, a great, tall black-haired and mustached nobleman, was pounding
+upon a table to emphasize his words, and presently he sprang up
+as though rushing toward the one to whom he had been speaking. He
+disappeared from the watcher's view for a moment and then, at the far
+side of the apartment, Norman of Torn saw him again just as he roughly
+grasped the figure of a woman who evidently was attempting to escape
+him. As she turned to face her tormentor, all the devil in the Devil of
+Torn surged in his aching head, for the face he saw was that of Joan de
+Tany.
+
+With a muttered oath, the imprisoned man turned to hurl himself against
+the bolted door, but ere he had taken a single step, the sound of heavy
+feet without brought him to a stop, and the jingle of keys as one was
+fitted to the lock of the door sent him gliding stealthily to the wall
+beside the doorway, where the inswinging door would conceal him.
+
+As the door was pushed back, a flickering torch lighted up, but dimly,
+the interior, so that until he had reached the center of the room, the
+visitor did not see that the cot was empty.
+
+He was a man-at-arms, and at his side hung a sword. That was enough for
+the Devil of Torn--it was a sword he craved most; and, ere the fellow
+could assure his slow wits that the cot was empty, steel fingers closed
+upon his throat, and he went down beneath the giant form of the outlaw.
+
+Without other sound than the scuffing of their bodies on the floor, and
+the clanking of their armor, they fought, the one to reach the dagger at
+his side, the other to close forever the windpipe of his adversary.
+
+Presently, the man-at-arms found what he sought, and, after tugging
+with ever diminishing strength, he felt the blade slip from its sheath.
+Slowly and feebly he raised it high above the back of the man on top of
+him; with a last supreme effort he drove the point downward, but ere it
+reached its goal, there was a sharp snapping sound as of a broken bone,
+the dagger fell harmlessly from his dead hand, and his head rolled
+backward upon his broken neck.
+
+Snatching the sword from the body of his dead antagonist, Norman of Torn
+rushed from the tower room.
+
+As John de Fulm, Earl of Buckingham, laid his vandal hands upon Joan
+de Tany, she turned upon him like a tigress. Blow after blow she rained
+upon his head and face until, in mortification and rage, he struck her
+full upon the mouth with his clenched fist; but even this did not subdue
+her and, with ever weakening strength, she continued to strike him. And
+then the great royalist Earl, the chosen friend of the King, took the
+fair white throat between his great fingers, and the lust of blood
+supplanted the lust of love, for he would have killed her in his rage.
+
+It was upon this scene that the Outlaw of Torn burst with naked sword.
+They were at the far end of the apartment, and his cry of anger at the
+sight caused the Earl to drop his prey, and turn with drawn sword to
+meet him.
+
+There were no words, for there was no need of words here. The two men
+were upon each other, and fighting to the death, before the girl had
+regained her feet. It would have been short shrift for John de Fulm had
+not some of his men heard the fracas, and rushed to his aid.
+
+Four of them there were, and they tumbled pell-mell into the room,
+fairly falling upon Norman of Torn in their anxiety to get their swords
+into him; but once they met that master hand, they went more slowly, and
+in a moment, two of them went no more at all, and the others, with the
+Earl, were but circling warily in search of a chance opening--an opening
+which never came.
+
+Norman of Torn stood with his back against a table in an angle of the
+room, and behind him stood Joan de Tany.
+
+"Move toward the left," she whispered. "I know this old pile. When
+you reach the table that bears the lamp, there will be a small doorway
+directly behind you. Strike the lamp out with your sword, as you feel my
+hand in your left, and then I will lead you through that doorway, which
+you must turn and quickly bolt after us. Do you understand?"
+
+He nodded.
+
+Slowly he worked his way toward the table, the men-at-arms in the
+meantime keeping up an infernal howling for help. The Earl was
+careful to keep out of reach of the point of De Conde's sword, and the
+men-at-arms were nothing loath to emulate their master's example.
+
+Just as he reached his goal, a dozen more men burst into the room, and
+emboldened by this reinforcement, one of the men engaging De Conde came
+too close. As he jerked his blade from the fellow's throat, Norman of
+Torn felt a firm, warm hand slipped into his from behind, and his sword
+swung with a resounding blow against the lamp.
+
+As darkness enveloped the chamber, Joan de Tany led him through
+the little door, which he immediately closed and bolted as she had
+instructed.
+
+"This way," she whispered, again slipping her hand into his and, in
+silence, she led him through several dim chambers, and finally stopped
+before a blank wall in a great oak-panelled room.
+
+Here the girl felt with swift fingers the edge of the molding. More
+and more rapidly she moved as the sound of hurrying footsteps resounded
+through the castle.
+
+"What is wrong?" asked Norman of Torn, noticing her increasing
+perturbation.
+
+"Mon Dieu!" she cried. "Can I be wrong! Surely this is the room. Oh, my
+friend, that I should have brought you to all this by my willfulness and
+vanity; and now when I might save you, my wits leave me and I forget the
+way."
+
+"Do not worry about me," laughed the Devil of Torn. "Methought that it
+was I who was trying to save you, and may heaven forgive me else,
+for surely, that be my only excuse for running away from a handful of
+swords. I could not take chances when thou wert at stake, Joan," he
+added more gravely.
+
+The sound of pursuit was now quite close, in fact the reflection from
+flickering torches could be seen in nearby chambers.
+
+At last the girl, with a little cry of "stupid," seized De Conde and
+rushed him to the far side of the room.
+
+"Here it is," she whispered joyously, "here it has been all the time."
+Running her fingers along the molding until she found a little hidden
+spring, she pushed it, and one of the great panels swung slowly in,
+revealing the yawning mouth of a black opening behind.
+
+Quickly the girl entered, pulling De Conde after her, and as the panel
+swung quietly into place, the Earl of Buckingham with a dozen men
+entered the apartment.
+
+"The devil take them," cried De Fulm. "Where can they have gone? Surely
+we were right behind them."
+
+"It is passing strange, My Lord," replied one of the men. "Let us try
+the floor above, and the towers; for of a surety they have not come this
+way." And the party retraced its steps, leaving the apartment empty.
+
+Behind the panel, the girl stood shrinking close to De Conde, her hand
+still in his.
+
+"Where now?" he asked. "Or do we stay hidden here like frightened chicks
+until the war is over and the Baron returns to let us out of this musty
+hole?"
+
+"Wait," she answered, "until I quiet my nerves a little. I am all
+unstrung." He felt her body tremble as it pressed against his.
+
+With the spirit of protection strong within him, what wonder that his
+arm fell about her shoulder as though to say, fear not, for I be brave
+and powerful; naught can harm you while I am here.
+
+Presently she reached her hands up to his face, made brave to do it by
+the sheltering darkness.
+
+"Roger," she whispered, her tongue halting over the familiar name.
+"I thought that they had killed you, and all for me, for my foolish
+stubbornness. Canst forgive me?"
+
+"Forgive?" he asked, smiling to himself. "Forgive being given an
+opportunity to fight? There be nothing to forgive, Joan, unless it be
+that I should ask forgiveness for protecting thee so poorly."
+
+"Do not say that," she commanded. "Never was such bravery or such
+swordsmanship in all the world before; never such a man."
+
+He did not answer. His mind was a chaos of conflicting thoughts. The
+feel of her hands as they had lingered momentarily, and with a vague
+caress upon his cheek, and the pressure of her body as she leaned
+against him sent the hot blood coursing through his veins. He was
+puzzled, for he had not dreamed that friendship was so sweet. That she
+did not shrink from his encircling arms should have told him much, but
+Norman of Torn was slow to realize that a woman might look upon him with
+love. Nor had he a thought of any other sentiment toward her than that
+of friend and protector.
+
+And then there came to him as in a vision another fair and beautiful
+face--Bertrade de Montfort's--and Norman of Torn was still more puzzled;
+for at heart he was clean, and love of loyalty was strong within him.
+Love of women was a new thing to him, and, robbed as he had been all his
+starved life of the affection and kindly fellowship, of either men or
+women, it is little to be wondered at that he was easily impressionable
+and responsive to the feeling his strong personality had awakened in two
+of England's fairest daughters.
+
+But with the vision of that other face, there came to him a faint
+realization that mayhap it was a stronger power than either friendship
+or fear which caused that lithe, warm body to cling so tightly to him.
+That the responsibility for the critical stage their young acquaintance
+had so quickly reached was not his had never for a moment entered his
+head. To him, the fault was all his; and perhaps it was this quality of
+chivalry that was the finest of the many noble characteristics of his
+sterling character. So his next words were typical of the man; and did
+Joan de Tany love him, or did she not, she learned that night to respect
+and trust him as she respected and trusted few men of her acquaintance.
+
+"My Lady," said Norman of Torn, "we have been through much, and we are
+as little children in a dark attic, and so if I have presumed upon our
+acquaintance," and he lowered his arm from about her shoulder, "I ask
+you to forgive it for I scarce know what to do, from weakness and from
+the pain of the blow upon my head."
+
+Joan de Tany drew slowly away from him, and without reply, took his hand
+and led him forward through a dark, cold corridor.
+
+"We must go carefully now," she said at last, "for there be stairs
+near."
+
+He held her hand pressed very tightly in his, tighter perhaps than
+conditions required, but she let it lie there as she led him forward,
+very slowly down a flight of rough stone steps.
+
+Norman of Torn wondered if she were angry with him and then, being new
+at love, he blundered.
+
+"Joan de Tany," he said.
+
+"Yes, Roger de Conde; what would you?"
+
+"You be silent, and I fear that you be angry with me. Tell me that you
+forgive what I have done, an it offended you. I have so few friends," he
+added sadly, "that I cannot afford to lose such as you."
+
+"You will never lose the friendship of Joan de Tany," she answered. "You
+have won her respect and--and--" But she could not say it and so she
+trailed off lamely--"and undying gratitude."
+
+But Norman of Torn knew the word that she would have spoken had he dared
+to let her. He did not, for there was always the vision of Bertrade de
+Montfort before him; and now another vision arose that would effectually
+have sealed his lips had not the other--he saw the Outlaw of Torn
+dangling by his neck from a wooden gibbet.
+
+Before, he had only feared that Joan de Tany loved him, now he knew it,
+and while he marvelled that so wondrous a creature could feel love for
+him, again he blamed himself, and felt sorrow for them both; for he did
+not return her love nor could he imagine a love strong enough to survive
+the knowledge that it was possessed by the Devil of Torn.
+
+Presently they reached the bottom of the stairway, and Joan de Tany
+led him, gropingly, across what seemed, from their echoing footsteps, a
+large chamber. The air was chill and dank, smelling of mold, and no
+ray of light penetrated this subterranean vault, and no sound broke the
+stillness.
+
+"This be the castle's crypt," whispered Joan; "and they do say that
+strange happenings occur here in the still watches of the night, and
+that when the castle sleeps, the castle's dead rise from their coffins
+and shake their dry bones.
+
+"Sh! What was that?" as a rustling noise broke upon their ears close
+upon their right; and then there came a distinct moan, and Joan de Tany
+fled to the refuge of Norman of Torn's arms.
+
+"There is nothing to fear, Joan," reassured Norman of Torn. "Dead men
+wield not swords, nor do they move, or moan. The wind, I think, and rats
+are our only companions here."
+
+"I am afraid," she whispered. "If you can make a light, I am sure
+you will find an old lamp here in the crypt, and then will it be less
+fearsome. As a child I visited this castle often, and in search of
+adventure, we passed through these corridors an hundred times, but
+always by day and with lights."
+
+Norman of Torn did as she bid, and finding the lamp, lighted it. The
+chamber was quite empty save for the coffins in their niches, and some
+effigies in marble set at intervals about the walls.
+
+"Not such a fearsome place after all," he said, laughing lightly.
+
+"No place would seem fearsome now," she answered simply, "were there a
+light to show me that the brave face of Roger de Conde were by my side."
+
+"Hush, child," replied the outlaw. "You know not what you say. When you
+know me better, you will be sorry for your words, for Roger de Conde is
+not what you think him. So say no more of praise until we be out of this
+hole, and you safe in your father's halls."
+
+The fright of the noises in the dark chamber had but served to again
+bring the girl's face close to his so that he felt her hot, sweet breath
+upon his cheek, and thus another link was forged to bind him to her.
+
+With the aid of the lamp, they made more rapid progress, and in a few
+moments, reached a low door at the end of the arched passageway.
+
+"This is the doorway which opens upon the ravine below the castle. We
+have passed beneath the walls and the moat. What may we do now, Roger,
+without horses?"
+
+"Let us get out of this place, and as far away as possible under the
+cover of darkness, and I doubt not I may find a way to bring you to your
+father's castle," replied Norman of Torn.
+
+Putting out the light, lest it should attract the notice of the watch
+upon the castle walls, Norman of Torn pushed open the little door and
+stepped forth into the fresh night air.
+
+The ravine was so overgrown with tangled vines and wildwood that, had
+there ever been a pathway, it was now completely obliterated; and it
+was with difficulty that the man forced his way through the entangling
+creepers and tendrils. The girl stumbled after him and twice fell before
+they had taken a score of steps.
+
+"I fear I am not strong enough," she said finally. "The way is much more
+difficult than I had thought."
+
+So Norman of Torn lifted her in his strong arms, and stumbled on
+through the darkness and the shrubbery down the center of the ravine. It
+required the better part of an hour to traverse the little distance to
+the roadway; and all the time her head nestled upon his shoulder and her
+hair brushed his cheek. Once when she lifted her head to speak to him,
+he bent toward her, and in the darkness, by chance, his lips brushed
+hers. He felt her little form tremble in his arms, and a faint sigh
+breathed from her lips.
+
+They were upon the highroad now, but he did not put her down. A mist
+was before his eyes, and he could have crushed her to him and smothered
+those warm lips with his own. Slowly, his face inclined toward hers,
+closer and closer his iron muscles pressed her to him, and then, clear
+cut and distinct before his eyes, he saw the corpse of the Outlaw of
+Torn swinging by the neck from the arm of a wooden gibbet, and beside it
+knelt a woman gowned in rich cloth of gold and many jewels. Her face
+was averted and her arms were outstretched toward the dangling form that
+swung and twisted from the grim, gaunt arm. Her figure was racked with
+choking sobs of horror-stricken grief. Presently she staggered to her
+feet and turned away, burying her face in her hands; but he saw her
+features for an instant then--the woman who openly and alone mourned the
+dead Outlaw of Torn was Bertrade de Montfort.
+
+Slowly his arms relaxed, and gently and reverently he lowered Joan
+de Tany to the ground. In that instant Norman of Torn had learned the
+difference between friendship and love, and love and passion.
+
+The moon was shining brightly upon them, and the girl turned, wide-eyed
+and wondering, toward him. She had felt the wild call of love and she
+could not understand his seeming coldness now, for she had seen no
+vision beyond a life of happiness within those strong arms.
+
+"Joan," he said, "I would but now have wronged thee. Forgive me. Forget
+what has passed between us until I can come to you in my rightful
+colors, when the spell of the moonlight and adventure be no longer upon
+us, and then,"--he paused--"and then I shall tell you who I be and you
+shall say if you still care to call me friend--no more than that shall I
+ask."
+
+He had not the heart to tell her that he loved only Bertrade de
+Montfort, but it had been a thousand times better had he done so.
+
+She was about to reply when a dozen armed men sprang from the
+surrounding shadows, calling upon them to surrender. The moonlight
+falling upon the leader revealed a great giant of a fellow with an
+enormous, bristling mustache--it was Shandy.
+
+Norman of Torn lowered his raised sword.
+
+"It is I, Shandy," he said. "Keep a still tongue in thy head until I
+speak with thee apart. Wait here, My Lady Joan; these be friends."
+
+Drawing Shandy to one side, he learned that the faithful fellow had
+become alarmed at his chief's continued absence, and had set out with
+a small party to search for him. They had come upon the riderless Sir
+Mortimer grazing by the roadside, and a short distance beyond, had
+discovered evidences of the conflict at the cross-roads. There they had
+found Norman of Torn's helmet, confirming their worst fears. A peasant
+in a nearby hut had told them of the encounter, and had set them upon
+the road taken by the Earl and his prisoners.
+
+"And here we be, My Lord," concluded the great fellow.
+
+"How many are you?" asked the outlaw.
+
+"Fifty, all told, with those who lie farther back in the bushes."
+
+"Give us horses, and let two of the men ride behind us," said the chief.
+"And, Shandy, let not the lady know that she rides this night with the
+Outlaw of Torn."
+
+"Yes, My Lord."
+
+They were soon mounted, and clattering down the road, back toward the
+castle of Richard de Tany.
+
+Joan de Tany looked in silent wonder upon this grim force that sprang
+out of the shadows of the night to do the bidding of Roger de Conde, a
+gentleman of France.
+
+There was something familiar in the great bulk of Red Shandy; where had
+she seen that mighty frame before? And now she looked closely at the
+figure of Roger de Conde. Yes, somewhere else had she seen these two men
+together; but where and when?
+
+And then the strangeness of another incident came to her mind. Roger de
+Conde spoke no English, and yet she had plainly heard English words upon
+this man's lips as he addressed the red giant.
+
+Norman of Torn had recovered his helmet from one of his men who had
+picked it up at the crossroads, and now he rode in silence with lowered
+visor, as was his custom.
+
+There was something sinister now in his appearance, and as the moonlight
+touched the hard, cruel faces of the grim and silent men who rode behind
+him, a little shudder crept over the frame of Joan de Tany.
+
+Shortly before daylight they reached the castle of Richard de Tany, and
+a great shout went up from the watch as Norman of Torn cried:
+
+"Open! Open for My Lady Joan."
+
+Together they rode into the courtyard, where all was bustle and
+excitement. A dozen voices asked a dozen questions only to cry out still
+others without waiting for replies.
+
+Richard de Tany with his family and Mary de Stutevill were still fully
+clothed, having not lain down during the whole night. They fairly fell
+upon Joan and Roger de Conde in their joyous welcome and relief.
+
+"Come, come," said the Baron, "let us go within. You must be fair
+famished for good food and drink."
+
+"I will ride, My Lord," replied Norman of Torn. "I have a little matter
+of business with my friend, the Earl of Buckingham. Business which I
+fear will not wait."
+
+Joan de Tany looked on in silence. Nor did she urge him to remain, as he
+raised her hand to his lips in farewell. So Norman of Torn rode out of
+the courtyard; and as his men fell in behind him under the first rays of
+the drawing day, the daughter of De Tany watched them through the gate,
+and a great light broke upon her, for what she saw was the same as she
+had seen a few days since when she had turned in her saddle to watch
+the retreating forms of the cut-throats of Torn as they rode on after
+halting her father's party.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+Some hours later, fifty men followed Norman of Torn on foot through the
+ravine below the castle where John de Fulm, Earl of Buckingham, had his
+headquarters; while nearly a thousand more lurked in the woods before
+the grim pile.
+
+Under cover of the tangled shrubbery, they crawled unseen to the little
+door through which Joan de Tany had led him the night before. Following
+the corridors and vaults beneath the castle, they came to the stone
+stairway, and mounted to the passage which led to the false panel that
+had given the two fugitives egress.
+
+Slipping the spring lock, Norman of Torn entered the apartment
+followed closely by his henchmen. On they went, through apartment after
+apartment, but no sign of the Earl or his servitors rewarded their
+search, and it was soon apparent that the castle was deserted.
+
+As they came forth into the courtyard, they descried an old man basking
+in the sun, upon a bench. The sight of them nearly caused the old fellow
+to die of fright, for to see fifty armed men issue from the untenanted
+halls was well reckoned to blanch even a braver cheek.
+
+When Norman of Torn questioned him, he learned that De Fulm had ridden
+out early in the day bound for Dover, where Prince Edward then was. The
+outlaw knew it would be futile to pursue him, but yet, so fierce was his
+anger against this man, that he ordered his band to mount, and spurring
+to their head, he marched through Middlesex, and crossing the Thames
+above London, entered Surrey late the same afternoon.
+
+As they were going into camp that night in Kent, midway between London
+and Rochester, word came to Norman of Torn that the Earl of Buckingham,
+having sent his escort on to Dover, had stopped to visit the wife of a
+royalist baron, whose husband was with Prince Edward's forces.
+
+The fellow who gave this information was a servant in my lady's
+household who held a grudge against his mistress for some wrong she had
+done him. When, therefore, he found that these grim men were searching
+for De Fulm, he saw a way to be revenged upon his mistress.
+
+"How many swords be there at the castle?" asked Norman of Torn.
+
+"Scarce a dozen, barring the Earl of Buckingham," replied the knave;
+"and, furthermore, there be a way to enter, which I may show you, My
+Lord, so that you may, unseen, reach the apartment where My Lady and the
+Earl be supping."
+
+"Bring ten men, beside yourself, Shandy," commanded Norman of Torn. "We
+shall pay a little visit upon our amorous friend, My Lord, the Earl of
+Buckingham."
+
+Half an hour's ride brought them within sight of the castle.
+Dismounting, and leaving their horses with one of the men, Norman of
+Torn advanced on foot with Shandy and the eight others, close in the
+wake of the traitorous servant.
+
+The fellow led them to the rear of the castle, where, among the brush,
+he had hidden a rude ladder, which, when tilted, spanned the moat and
+rested its farther end upon a window ledge some ten feet above the
+ground.
+
+"Keep the fellow here till last, Shandy," said the outlaw, "till all
+be in, an' if there be any signs of treachery, stick him through the
+gizzard--death thus be slower and more painful."
+
+So saying, Norman of Torn crept boldly across the improvised bridge, and
+disappeared within the window beyond. One by one the band of cut-throats
+passed through the little window, until all stood within the castle
+beside their chief; Shandy coming last with the servant.
+
+"Lead me quietly, knave, to the room where My Lord sups," said Norman
+of Torn. "You, Shandy, place your men where they can prevent my being
+interrupted."
+
+Following a moment or two after Shandy came another figure stealthily
+across the ladder and, as Norman of Torn and his followers left the
+little room, this figure pushed quietly through the window and followed
+the great outlaw down the unlighted corridor.
+
+A moment later, My Lady of Leybourn looked up from her plate upon the
+grim figure of an armored knight standing in the doorway of the great
+dining hall.
+
+"My Lord Earl!" she cried. "Look! Behind you."
+
+And as the Earl of Buckingham glanced behind him, he overturned the
+bench upon which he sat in his effort to gain his feet; for My Lord Earl
+of Buckingham had a guilty conscience.
+
+The grim figure raised a restraining hand, as the Earl drew his sword.
+
+"A moment, My Lord," said a low voice in perfect French.
+
+"Who are you?" cried the lady.
+
+"I be an old friend of My Lord, here; but let me tell you a little
+story.
+
+"In a grim old castle in Essex, only last night, a great lord of England
+held by force the beautiful daughter of a noble house and, when she
+spurned his advances, he struck her with his clenched fist upon her fair
+face, and with his brute hands choked her. And in that castle also was
+a despised and hunted outlaw, with a price upon his head, for whose neck
+the hempen noose has been yawning these many years. And it was this vile
+person who came in time to save the young woman from the noble flower of
+knighthood that would have ruined her young life.
+
+"The outlaw wished to kill the knight, but many men-at-arms came to the
+noble's rescue, and so the outlaw was forced to fly with the girl lest
+he be overcome by numbers, and the girl thus fall again into the hands
+of her tormentor.
+
+"But this crude outlaw was not satisfied with merely rescuing the girl,
+he must needs mete out justice to her noble abductor and collect in full
+the toll of blood which alone can atone for the insult and violence done
+her.
+
+"My Lady, the young girl was Joan de Tany; the noble was My Lord the
+Earl of Buckingham; and the outlaw stands before you to fulfill the duty
+he has sworn to do. En garde, My Lord!"
+
+The encounter was short, for Norman of Torn had come to kill, and he had
+been looking through a haze of blood for hours--in fact every time he
+had thought of those brutal fingers upon the fair throat of Joan de Tany
+and of the cruel blow that had fallen upon her face.
+
+He showed no mercy, but backed the Earl relentlessly into a corner
+of the room, and when he had him there where he could escape in no
+direction, he drove his blade so deep through his putrid heart that the
+point buried itself an inch in the oak panel beyond.
+
+Claudia Leybourn sat frozen with horror at the sight she was witnessing,
+and, as Norman of Torn wrenched his blade from the dead body before him
+and wiped it on the rushes of the floor, she gazed in awful fascination
+while he drew his dagger and made a mark upon the forehead of the dead
+nobleman.
+
+"Outlaw or Devil," said a stern voice behind them, "Roger Leybourn owes
+you his friendship for saving the honor of his home."
+
+Both turned to discover a mail-clad figure standing in the doorway where
+Norman of Torn had first appeared.
+
+"Roger!" shrieked Claudia Leybourn, and swooned.
+
+"Who be you?" continued the master of Leybourn addressing the outlaw.
+
+For answer Norman of Torn pointed to the forehead of the dead Earl of
+Buckingham, and there Roger Leybourn saw, in letters of blood, NT.
+
+The Baron advanced with outstretched hand.
+
+"I owe you much. You have saved my poor, silly wife from this beast,
+and Joan de Tany is my cousin, so I am doubly beholden to you, Norman of
+Torn."
+
+The outlaw pretended that he did not see the hand.
+
+"You owe me nothing, Sir Roger, that may not be paid by a good supper. I
+have eaten but once in forty-eight hours."
+
+The outlaw now called to Shandy and his men, telling them to remain on
+watch, but to interfere with no one within the castle.
+
+He then sat at the table with Roger Leybourn and his lady, who had
+recovered from her swoon, and behind them on the rushes of the floor lay
+the body of De Fulm in a little pool of blood.
+
+Leybourn told them that he had heard that De Fulm was at his home, and
+had hastened back; having been in hiding about the castle for half an
+hour before the arrival of Norman of Torn, awaiting an opportunity to
+enter unobserved by the servants. It was he who had followed across the
+ladder after Shandy.
+
+The outlaw spent the night at the castle of Roger Leybourn; for the
+first time within his memory a welcomed guest under his true name at the
+house of a gentleman.
+
+The following morning, he bade his host goodbye, and returning to his
+camp started on his homeward march toward Torn.
+
+Near midday, as they were approaching the Thames near the environs of
+London, they saw a great concourse of people hooting and jeering at a
+small party of gentlemen and gentlewomen.
+
+Some of the crowd were armed, and from very force of numbers were waxing
+brave to lay violent hands upon the party. Mud and rocks and rotten
+vegetables were being hurled at the little cavalcade, many of them
+barely missing the women of the party.
+
+Norman of Torn waited to ask no questions, but spurring into the thick
+of it laid right and left of him with the flat of his sword, and his
+men, catching the contagion of it, swarmed after him until the whole
+pack of attacking ruffians were driven into the Thames.
+
+And then, without a backward glance at the party he had rescued, he
+continued on his march toward the north.
+
+The little party sat upon their horses looking in wonder after the
+retreating figures of their deliverers. Then one of the ladies turned
+to a knight at her side with a word of command and an imperious gesture
+toward the fast disappearing company. He, thus addressed, put spurs to
+his horse, and rode at a rapid gallop after the outlaw's troop. In a few
+moments he had overtaken them and reined up beside Norman of Torn.
+
+"Hold, Sir Knight," cried the gentleman, "the Queen would thank you in
+person for your brave defence of her."
+
+Ever keen to see the humor of a situation, Norman of Torn wheeled his
+horse and rode back with the Queen's messenger.
+
+As he faced Her Majesty, the Outlaw of Torn bent low over his pommel.
+
+"You be a strange knight that thinks so lightly on saving a queen's life
+that you ride on without turning your head, as though you had but driven
+a pack of curs from annoying a stray cat," said the Queen.
+
+"I drew in the service of a woman, Your Majesty, not in the service of a
+queen."
+
+"What now! Wouldst even belittle the act which we all witnessed? The
+King, my husband, shall reward thee, Sir Knight, if you but tell me your
+name."
+
+"If I told my name, methinks the King would be more apt to hang me,"
+laughed the outlaw. "I be Norman of Torn."
+
+The entire party looked with startled astonishment upon him, for none of
+them had ever seen this bold raider whom all the nobility and gentry of
+England feared and hated.
+
+"For lesser acts than that which thou hast just performed, the King
+has pardoned men before," replied Her Majesty. "But raise your visor,
+I would look upon the face of so notorious a criminal who can yet be a
+gentleman and a loyal protector of his queen."
+
+"They who have looked upon my face, other than my friends," replied
+Norman of Torn quietly, "have never lived to tell what they saw beneath
+this visor, and as for you, Madame, I have learned within the year to
+fear it might mean unhappiness to you to see the visor of the Devil of
+Torn lifted from his face." Without another word he wheeled and galloped
+back to his little army.
+
+"The puppy, the insolent puppy," cried Eleanor of England, in a rage.
+
+And so the Outlaw of Torn and his mother met and parted after a period
+of twenty years.
+
+Two days later, Norman of Torn directed Red Shandy to lead the forces of
+Torn from their Essex camp back to Derby. The numerous raiding parties
+which had been constantly upon the road during the days they had spent
+in this rich district had loaded the extra sumpter beasts with rich
+and valuable booty and the men, for the time satiated with fighting and
+loot, turned their faces toward Torn with evident satisfaction.
+
+The outlaw was speaking to his captains in council; at his side the old
+man of Torn.
+
+"Ride by easy stages, Shandy, and I will overtake you by tomorrow
+morning. I but ride for a moment to the castle of De Tany on an errand,
+and, as I shall stop there but a few moments, I shall surely join you
+tomorrow."
+
+"Do not forget, My Lord," said Edwild the Serf, a great yellow-haired
+Saxon giant, "that there be a party of the King's troops camped close by
+the road which branches to Tany."
+
+"I shall give them plenty of room," replied Norman of Torn. "My neck
+itcheth not to be stretched," and he laughed and mounted.
+
+Five minutes after he had cantered down the road from camp, Spizo the
+Spaniard, sneaking his horse unseen into the surrounding forest, mounted
+and spurred rapidly after him. The camp, in the throes of packing
+refractory, half broken sumpter animals, and saddling their own wild
+mounts, did not notice his departure. Only the little grim, gray, old
+man knew that he had gone, or why, or whither.
+
+That afternoon, as Roger de Conde was admitted to the castle of Richard
+de Tany and escorted to a little room where he awaited the coming of
+the Lady Joan, a swarthy messenger handed a letter to the captain of the
+King's soldiers camped a few miles south of Tany.
+
+The officer tore open the seal as the messenger turned and spurred back
+in the direction from which he had come.
+
+And this was what he read:
+
+Norman of Torn is now at the castle of Tany, without escort.
+
+Instantly the call "to arms" and "mount" sounded through the camp and,
+in five minutes, a hundred mercenaries galloped rapidly toward the
+castle of Richard de Tany, in the visions of their captain a great
+reward and honor and preferment for the capture of the mighty outlaw who
+was now almost within his clutches.
+
+Three roads meet at Tany; one from the south along which the King's
+soldiers were now riding; one from the west which had guided Norman
+of Torn from his camp to the castle; and a third which ran northwest
+through Cambridge and Huntingdon toward Derby.
+
+All unconscious of the rapidly approaching foes, Norman of Torn waited
+composedly in the anteroom for Joan de Tany.
+
+Presently she entered, clothed in the clinging house garment of the
+period; a beautiful vision, made more beautiful by the suppressed
+excitement which caused the blood to surge beneath the velvet of her
+cheek, and her breasts to rise and fall above her fast beating heart.
+
+She let him take her fingers in his and raise them to his lips, and then
+they stood looking into each other's eyes in silence for a long moment.
+
+"I do not know how to tell you what I have come to tell," he said sadly.
+"I have not meant to deceive you to your harm, but the temptation to be
+with you and those whom you typify must be my excuse. I--" He paused.
+It was easy to tell her that he was the Outlaw of Torn, but if she loved
+him, as he feared, how was he to tell her that he loved only Bertrade de
+Montfort?
+
+"You need tell me nothing," interrupted Joan de Tany. "I have guessed
+what you would tell me, Norman of Torn. 'The spell of moonlight and
+adventure is no longer upon us'--those are your own words, and still I
+am glad to call you friend."
+
+The little emphasis she put upon the last word bespoke the finality of
+her decision that the Outlaw of Torn could be no more than friend to
+her.
+
+"It is best," he replied, relieved that, as he thought, she felt no
+love for him now that she knew him for what he really was. "Nothing good
+could come to such as you, Joan, if the Devil of Torn could claim more
+of you than friendship; and so I think that for your peace of mind and
+for my own, we will let it be as though you had never known me. I thank
+you that you have not been angry with me. Remember me only to think that
+in the hills of Derby, a sword is at your service, without reward and
+without price. Should you ever need it, Joan, tell me that you will send
+for me--wilt promise me that, Joan?"
+
+"I promise, Norman of Torn."
+
+"Farewell," he said, and as he again kissed her hand he bent his knee
+to the ground in reverence. Then he rose to go, pressing a little packet
+into her palm. Their eyes met, and the man saw, in that brief instant,
+deep in the azure depths of the girl's that which tumbled the structure
+of his new-found complacency about his ears.
+
+As he rode out into the bright sunlight upon the road which led
+northwest toward Derby, Norman of Torn bowed his head in sorrow, for he
+realized two things. One was that the girl he had left still loved him,
+and that some day, mayhap tomorrow, she would suffer because she had
+sent him away; and the other was that he did not love her, that his
+heart was locked in the fair breast of Bertrade de Montfort.
+
+He felt himself a beast that he had allowed his loneliness and the
+aching sorrow of his starved, empty heart to lead him into this girl's
+life. That he had been new to women and newer still to love did not
+permit him to excuse himself, and a hundred times he cursed his folly
+and stupidity, and what he thought was fickleness.
+
+But the unhappy affair had taught him one thing for certain: to know
+without question what love was, and that the memory of Bertrade de
+Montfort's lips would always be more to him than all the allurements
+possessed by the balance of the women of the world, no matter how
+charming, or how beautiful.
+
+Another thing, a painful thing he had learned from it, too, that the
+attitude of Joan de Tany, daughter of an old and noble house, was but
+the attitude which the Outlaw of Torn must expect from any good woman
+of her class; what he must expect from Bertrade de Montfort when she
+learned that Roger de Conde was Norman of Torn.
+
+The outlaw had scarce passed out of sight upon the road to Derby ere the
+girl, who still stood in an embrasure of the south tower, gazing with
+strangely drawn, sad face up the road which had swallowed him, saw a
+body of soldiers galloping rapidly toward Tany from the south.
+
+The King's banner waved above their heads, and intuitively, Joan de Tany
+knew for whom they sought at her father's castle. Quickly she hastened
+to the outer barbican that it might be she who answered their hail
+rather than one of the men-at-arms on watch there.
+
+She had scarcely reached the ramparts of the outer gate ere the King's
+men drew rein before the castle.
+
+In reply to their hail, Joan de Tany asked their mission.
+
+"We seek the outlaw, Norman of Torn, who hides now within this castle,"
+replied the officer.
+
+"There be no outlaw here," replied the girl, "but, if you wish, you may
+enter with half a dozen men and search the castle."
+
+This the officer did and, when he had assured himself that Norman of
+Torn was not within, an hour had passed, and Joan de Tany felt certain
+that the Outlaw of Torn was too far ahead to be caught by the King's
+men; so she said:
+
+"There was one here just before you came who called himself though by
+another name than Norman of Torn. Possibly it is he ye seek."
+
+"Which way rode he?" cried the officer.
+
+"Straight toward the west by the middle road," lied Joan de Tany. And,
+as the officer hurried from the castle and, with his men at his back,
+galloped furiously away toward the west, the girl sank down upon a
+bench, pressing her little hands to her throbbing temples.
+
+Then she opened the packet which Norman of Torn had handed her, and
+within found two others. In one of these was a beautiful jeweled locket,
+and on the outside were the initials JT, and on the inside the initials
+NT; in the other was a golden hair ornament set with precious stones,
+and about it was wound a strand of her own silken tresses.
+
+She looked long at the little trinkets and then, pressing them against
+her lips, she threw herself face down upon an oaken bench, her lithe
+young form racked with sobs.
+
+She was indeed but a little girl chained by the inexorable bonds of
+caste to a false ideal. Birth and station spelled honor to her, and
+honor, to the daughter of an English noble, was a mightier force even
+than love.
+
+That Norman of Torn was an outlaw she might have forgiven, but that he
+was, according to report, a low fellow of no birth placed an impassable
+barrier between them.
+
+For hours the girl lay sobbing upon the bench, whilst within her raged
+the mighty battle of the heart against the head.
+
+Thus her mother found her, and kneeling beside her, and with her arms
+about the girl's neck, tried to soothe her and to learn the cause of
+her sorrow. Finally it came, poured from the flood gates of a sorrowing
+heart; that wave of bitter misery and hopelessness which not even a
+mother's love could check.
+
+"Joan, my dear daughter," cried Lady de Tany, "I sorrow with thee that
+thy love has been cast upon so bleak and impossible a shore. But it be
+better that thou hast learnt the truth ere it were too late; for, take
+my word upon it, Joan, the bitter humiliation such an alliance must
+needs have brought upon thee and thy father's house would soon have
+cooled thy love; nor could his have survived the sneers and affronts
+even the menials would have put upon him."
+
+"Oh, mother, but I love him so," moaned the girl. "I did not know how
+much until he had gone, and the King's officer had come to search for
+him, and then the thought that all the power of a great throne and the
+mightiest houses of an entire kingdom were turned in hatred against him
+raised the hot blood of anger within me and the knowledge of my love
+surged through all my being. Mother, thou canst not know the honor, and
+the bravery, and the chivalry of the man as I do. Not since Arthur of
+Silures kept his round table hath ridden forth upon English soil so true
+a knight as Norman of Torn.
+
+"Couldst thou but have seen him fight, my mother, and witnessed the
+honor of his treatment of thy daughter, and heard the tone of dignified
+respect in which he spoke of women thou wouldst have loved him, too,
+and felt that outlaw though he be, he is still more a gentleman than
+nine-tenths the nobles of England."
+
+"But his birth, my daughter!" argued the Lady de Tany. "Some even say
+that the gall marks of his brass collar still showeth upon his neck, and
+others that he knoweth not himself the name of his own father, nor had
+he any mother."
+
+Ah, but this was the mighty argument! Naught could the girl say to
+justify so heinous a crime as low birth. What a man did in those rough
+cruel days might be forgotten and forgiven but the sins of his mother
+or his grandfather in not being of noble blood, no matter howsoever
+wickedly attained, he might never overcome or live down.
+
+Torn by conflicting emotions, the poor girl dragged herself to her own
+apartment and there upon a restless, sleepless couch, beset by wild,
+impossible hopes, and vain, torturing regrets, she fought out the long,
+bitter night; until toward morning she solved the problem of her misery
+in the only way that seemed possible to her poor, tired, bleeding,
+little heart. When the rising sun shone through the narrow window, it
+found Joan de Tany at peace with all about her; the carved golden hilt
+of the toy that had hung at her girdle protruded from her breast, and a
+thin line of crimson ran across the snowy skin to a little pool upon the
+sheet beneath her.
+
+And so the cruel hand of a mighty revenge had reached out to crush
+another innocent victim.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+When word of the death of Joan de Tany reached Torn, no man could
+tell from outward appearance the depth of the suffering which the sad
+intelligence wrought on the master of Torn.
+
+All that they who followed him knew was that certain unusual orders were
+issued, and that that same night, the ten companies rode south toward
+Essex without other halt than for necessary food and water for man and
+beast.
+
+When the body of Joan de Tany rode forth from her father's castle to
+the church at Colchester, and again as it was brought back to its final
+resting place in the castle's crypt, a thousand strange and silent
+knights, black draped, upon horses trapped in black, rode slowly behind
+the bier.
+
+Silently they had come in the night preceding the funeral, and as
+silently, they slipped away northward into the falling shadows of the
+following night.
+
+No word had passed between those of the castle and the great troop of
+sable-clad warriors, but all within knew that the mighty Outlaw of Torn
+had come to pay homage to the memory of the daughter of De Tany, and all
+but the grieving mother wondered at the strangeness of the act.
+
+As the horde of Torn approached their Derby stronghold, their young
+leader turned the command over to Red Shandy and dismounted at the door
+of Father Claude's cottage.
+
+"I am tired, Father," said the outlaw as he threw himself upon his
+accustomed bench. "Naught but sorrow and death follow in my footsteps. I
+and all my acts be accurst, and upon those I love, the blight falleth."
+
+"Alter thy ways, my son; follow my advice ere it be too late. Seek out
+a new and better life in another country and carve thy future into the
+semblance of glory and honor."
+
+"Would that I might, my friend," answered Norman of Torn. "But hast
+thou thought on the consequences which surely would follow should I thus
+remove both heart and head from the thing that I have built?
+
+"What suppose thou would result were Norman of Torn to turn his great
+band of cut-throats, leaderless, upon England? Hast thought on't,
+Father?
+
+"Wouldst thou draw a single breath in security if thou knew Edwild the
+Serf were ranging unchecked through Derby? Edwild, whose father was torn
+limb from limb upon the rack because he would not confess to killing a
+buck in the new forest, a buck which fell before the arrow of another
+man; Edwild, whose mother was burned for witchcraft by Holy Church.
+
+"And Horsan the Dane, Father. How thinkest thou the safety of the roads
+would be for either rich or poor an I turned Horsan the Dane loose upon
+ye?
+
+"And Pensilo, the Spanish Don! A great captain, but a man absolutely
+without bowels of compassion. When first he joined us and saw our mark
+upon the foreheads of our dead, wishing to out-Herod Herod, he marked
+the living which fell into his hands with a red hot iron, branding
+a great P upon each cheek and burning out the right eye completely.
+Wouldst like to feel, Father, that Don Piedro Castro y Pensilo ranged
+free through forest and hill of England?
+
+"And Red Shandy, and the two Florys, and Peter the Hermit, and One Eye
+Kanty, and Gropello, and Campanee, and Cobarth, and Mandecote, and the
+thousand others, each with a special hatred for some particular class or
+individual, and all filled with the lust of blood and rapine and loot.
+
+"No, Father, I may not go yet, for the England I have been taught to
+hate, I have learned to love, and I have it not in my heart to turn
+loose upon her fair breast the beasts of hell who know no law or order
+or decency other than that which I enforce."
+
+As Norman of Torn ceased speaking, the priest sat silent for many
+minutes.
+
+"Thou hast indeed a grave responsibility, my son," he said at last.
+"Thou canst not well go unless thou takest thy horde with thee out of
+England, but even that may be possible; who knows other than God?"
+
+"For my part," laughed the outlaw, "I be willing to leave it in His
+hands; which seems to be the way with Christians. When one would shirk
+a responsibility, or explain an error, lo, one shoulders it upon the
+Lord."
+
+"I fear, my son," said the priest, "that what seed of reverence I have
+attempted to plant within thy breast hath borne poor fruit."
+
+"That dependeth upon the viewpoint, Father; as I take not the Lord into
+partnership in my successes it seemeth to me to be but of a mean and
+poor spirit to saddle my sorrows and perplexities upon Him. I may be
+wrong, for I am ill-versed in religious matters, but my conception of
+God and scapegoat be not that they are synonymous."
+
+"Religion, my son, be a bootless subject for argument between friends,"
+replied the priest, "and further, there be that nearer my heart just now
+which I would ask thee. I may offend, but thou know I do not mean to.
+The question I would ask, is, dost wholly trust the old man whom thou
+call father?"
+
+"I know of no treachery," replied the outlaw, "which he hath ever
+conceived against me. Why?"
+
+"I ask because I have written to Simon de Montfort asking him to meet
+me and two others here upon an important matter. I have learned that he
+expects to be at his Leicester castle, for a few days, within the week.
+He is to notify me when he will come and I shall then send for thee
+and the old man of Torn; but it were as well, my son, that thou do
+not mention this matter to thy father, nor let him know when thou come
+hither to the meeting that De Montfort is to be present."
+
+"As you say, Father," replied Norman of Torn. "I do not make head nor
+tail of thy wondrous intrigues, but that thou wish it done thus or so is
+sufficient. I must be off to Torn now, so I bid thee farewell."
+
+Until the following Spring, Norman of Torn continued to occupy himself
+with occasional pillages against the royalists of the surrounding
+counties, and his patrols so covered the public highways that it became
+a matter of grievous import to the King's party, for no one was safe in
+the district who even so much as sympathized with the King's cause, and
+many were the dead foreheads that bore the grim mark of the Devil of
+Torn.
+
+Though he had never formally espoused the cause of the barons, it now
+seemed a matter of little doubt but that, in any crisis, his grisly
+banner would be found on their side.
+
+The long winter evenings within the castle of Torn were often spent in
+rough, wild carousals in the great hall where a thousand men might sit
+at table singing, fighting and drinking until the gray dawn stole in
+through the east windows, or Peter the Hermit, the fierce majordomo,
+tired of the din and racket, came stalking into the chamber with drawn
+sword and laid upon the revellers with the flat of it to enforce the
+authority of his commands to disperse.
+
+Norman of Torn and the old man seldom joined in these wild orgies, but
+when minstrel, or troubadour, or storyteller wandered to his grim lair,
+the Outlaw of Torn would sit enjoying the break in the winter's dull
+monotony to as late an hour as another; nor could any man of his great
+fierce horde outdrink their chief when he cared to indulge in the
+pleasures of the wine cup. The only effect that liquor seemed to have
+upon him was to increase his desire to fight, so that he was wont to
+pick needless quarrels and to resort to his sword for the slightest,
+or for no provocation at all. So, for this reason, he drank but seldom
+since he always regretted the things he did under the promptings of that
+other self which only could assert its ego when reason was threatened
+with submersion.
+
+Often on these evenings, the company was entertained by stories from the
+wild, roving lives of its own members. Tales of adventure, love, war
+and death in every known corner of the world; and the ten captains told,
+each, his story of how he came to be of Torn; and thus, with fighting
+enough by day to keep them good humored, the winter passed, and spring
+came with the ever wondrous miracle of awakening life, with soft
+zephyrs, warm rain, and sunny skies.
+
+Through all the winter, Father Claude had been expecting to hear from
+Simon de Montfort, but not until now did he receive a message which
+told the good priest that his letter had missed the great baron and
+had followed him around until he had but just received it. The message
+closed with these words:
+
+"Any clew, however vague, which might lead nearer to a true knowledge
+of the fate of Prince Richard, we shall most gladly receive and give our
+best attention. Therefore, if thou wilst find it convenient, we shall
+visit thee, good father, on the fifth day from today."
+
+Spizo, the Spaniard, had seen De Montfort's man leave the note with
+Father Claude and he had seen the priest hide it under a great bowl on
+his table, so that when the good father left his cottage, it was the
+matter of but a moment's work for Spizo to transfer the message from its
+hiding place to the breast of his tunic. The fellow could not read, but
+he to whom he took the missive could, laboriously, decipher the Latin in
+which it was penned.
+
+The old man of Torn fairly trembled with suppressed rage as the full
+purport of this letter flashed upon him. It had been years since he had
+heard aught of the search for the little lost prince of England, and now
+that the period of his silence was drawing to a close, now that more and
+more often opportunities were opening up to him to wreak the last shred
+of his terrible vengeance, the very thought of being thwarted at the
+final moment staggered his comprehension.
+
+"On the fifth day," he repeated. "That is the day on which we were to
+ride south again. Well, we shall ride, and Simon de Montfort shall not
+talk with thee, thou fool priest."
+
+That same spring evening in the year 1264, a messenger drew rein before
+the walls of Torn and, to the challenge of the watch, cried:
+
+"A royal messenger from His Illustrious Majesty, Henry, by the grace of
+God, King of England, Lord of Ireland, Duke of Aquitaine, to Norman of
+Torn, Open, in the name of the King!"
+
+Norman of Torn directed that the King's messenger be admitted, and the
+knight was quickly ushered into the great hall of the castle.
+
+The outlaw presently entered in full armor, with visor lowered.
+
+The bearing of the King's officer was haughty and arrogant, as became a
+man of birth when dealing with a low born knave.
+
+"His Majesty has deigned to address you, sirrah," he said, withdrawing
+a parchment from his breast. "And, as you doubtless cannot read, I will
+read the King's commands to you."
+
+"I can read," replied Norman of Torn, "whatever the King can write.
+Unless it be," he added, "that the King writes no better than he rules."
+
+The messenger scowled angrily, crying:
+
+"It ill becomes such a low fellow to speak thus disrespectfully of our
+gracious King. If he were less generous, he would have sent you a halter
+rather than this message which I bear."
+
+"A bridle for thy tongue, my friend," replied Norman of Torn, "were in
+better taste than a halter for my neck. But come, let us see what the
+King writes to his friend, the Outlaw of Torn."
+
+Taking the parchment from the messenger, Norman of Torn read:
+
+Henry, by Grace of God, King of England, Lord of Ireland, Duke of
+Aquitaine; to Norman of Torn:
+
+Since it has been called to our notice that you be harassing and
+plundering the persons and property of our faithful lieges!!!!!
+
+We therefore, by virtue of the authority vested in us by Almighty God,
+do command that you cease these nefarious practices!!!!!
+
+And further, through the gracious intercession of Her Majesty, Queen
+Eleanor, we do offer you full pardon for all your past crimes!!!!!
+
+Provided, you repair at once to the town of Lewes, with all the fighting
+men, your followers, prepared to protect the security of our person, and
+wage war upon those enemies of England, Simon de Montfort, Gilbert de
+Clare and their accomplices, who even now are collected to threaten and
+menace our person and kingdom!!!!!
+
+Or, otherwise, shall you suffer death, by hanging, for your long
+unpunished crimes. Witnessed myself, at Lewes, on May the third, in the
+forty-eighth year of our reign.
+
+HENRY, REX.
+
+"The closing paragraph be unfortunately worded," said Norman of Torn,
+"for because of it shall the King's messenger eat the King's message,
+and thus take back in his belly the answer of Norman of Torn." And
+crumpling the parchment in his hand, he advanced toward the royal
+emissary.
+
+The knight whipped out his sword, but the Devil of Torn was even
+quicker, so that it seemed that the King's messenger had deliberately
+hurled his weapon across the room, so quickly did the outlaw disarm him.
+
+And then Norman of Torn took the man by the neck with one powerful hand
+and, despite his struggles, and the beating of his mailed fists, bent
+him back upon the table, and there, forcing his teeth apart with the
+point of his sword, Norman of Torn rammed the King's message down the
+knight's throat; wax, parchment and all.
+
+It was a crestfallen gentleman who rode forth from the castle of Torn a
+half hour later and spurred rapidly--in his head a more civil tongue.
+
+When, two days later, he appeared before the King at Winchelsea and
+reported the outcome of his mission, Henry raged and stormed, swearing
+by all the saints in the calendar that Norman of Torn should hang for
+his effrontery before the snow flew again.
+
+News of the fighting between the barons and the King's forces at
+Rochester, Battel and elsewhere reached the ears of Norman of Torn a few
+days after the coming of the King's message, but at the same time came
+other news which hastened his departure toward the south. This latter
+word was that Bertrade de Montfort and her mother, accompanied by Prince
+Philip, had landed at Dover, and that upon the same boat had come Peter
+of Colfax back to England--the latter, doubtless reassured by the strong
+conviction, which held in the minds of all royalists at that time, of
+the certainty of victory for the royal arms in the impending conflict
+with the rebel barons.
+
+Norman of Torn had determined that he would see Bertrade de Montfort
+once again, and clear his conscience by a frank avowal of his identity.
+He knew what the result must be. His experience with Joan de Tany had
+taught him that. But the fine sense of chivalry which ever dominated all
+his acts where the happiness or honor of women were concerned urged him
+to give himself over as a sacrifice upon the altar of a woman's pride,
+that it might be she who spurned and rejected; for, as it must appear
+now, it had been he whose love had grown cold. It was a bitter thing
+to contemplate, for not alone would the mighty pride of the man be
+lacerated, but a great love.
+
+Two days before the start of the march, Spizo, the Spaniard, reported
+to the old man of Torn that he had overheard Father Claude ask Norman of
+Torn to come with his father to the priest's cottage the morning of the
+march to meet Simon de Montfort upon an important matter, but what the
+nature of the thing was the priest did not reveal to the outlaw.
+
+This report seemed to please the little, grim, gray old man more than
+aught he had heard in several days; for it made it apparent that the
+priest had not as yet divulged the tenor of his conjecture to the Outlaw
+of Torn.
+
+On the evening of the day preceding that set for the march south,
+a little, wiry figure, grim and gray, entered the cottage of Father
+Claude. No man knows what words passed between the good priest and his
+visitor nor the details of what befell within the four walls of the
+little cottage that night; but some half hour only elapsed before the
+little, grim, gray man emerged from the darkened interior and hastened
+upward upon the rocky trail into the hills, a cold smile of satisfaction
+on his lips.
+
+The castle of Torn was filled with the rush and rattle of preparation
+early the following morning, for by eight o'clock the column was to
+march. The courtyard was filled with hurrying squires and lackeys. War
+horses were being groomed and caparisoned; sumpter beasts, snubbed to
+great posts, were being laden with the tents, bedding, and belongings of
+the men; while those already packed were wandering loose among the other
+animals and men. There was squealing, biting, kicking, and cursing as
+animals fouled one another with their loads, or brushed against some
+tethered war horse.
+
+Squires were running hither and thither, or aiding their masters to don
+armor, lacing helm to hauberk, tying the points of ailette, coude, and
+rondel; buckling cuisse and jambe to thigh and leg. The open forges of
+armorer and smithy smoked and hissed, and the din of hammer on anvil
+rose above the thousand lesser noises of the castle courts, the shouting
+of commands, the rattle of steel, the ringing of iron hoof on stone
+flags, as these artificers hastened, sweating and cursing, through the
+eleventh hour repairs to armor, lance and sword, or to reset a shoe upon
+a refractory, plunging beast.
+
+Finally the captains came, armored cap-a-pie, and with them some
+semblance of order and quiet out of chaos and bedlam. First the sumpter
+beasts, all loaded now, were driven, with a strong escort, to the downs
+below the castle and there held to await the column. Then, one by one,
+the companies were formed and marched out beneath fluttering pennon and
+waving banner to the martial strains of bugle and trumpet.
+
+Last of all came the catapults, those great engines of destruction which
+hurled two hundred pound boulders with mighty force against the walls of
+beleaguered castles.
+
+And after all had passed through the great gates, Norman of Torn and the
+little old man walked side by side from the castle building and mounted
+their chargers held by two squires in the center of the courtyard.
+
+Below, on the downs, the column was forming in marching order, and as
+the two rode out to join it, the little old man turned to Norman of
+Torn, saying,
+
+"I had almost forgot a message I have for you, my son. Father Claude
+sent word last evening that he had been called suddenly south, and
+that some appointment you had with him must therefore be deferred
+until later. He said that you would understand." The old man eyed his
+companion narrowly through the eye slit in his helm.
+
+"'Tis passing strange," said Norman of Torn but that was his only
+comment. And so they joined the column which moved slowly down toward
+the valley and as they passed the cottage of Father Claude, Norman of
+Torn saw that the door was closed and that there was no sign of life
+about the place. A wave of melancholy passed over him, for the deserted
+aspect of the little flower-hedged cote seemed dismally prophetic of a
+near future without the beaming, jovial face of his friend and adviser.
+
+Scarcely had the horde of Torn passed out of sight down the east edge of
+the valley ere a party of richly dressed knights, coming from the south
+by another road along the west bank of the river, crossed over and drew
+rein before the cottage of Father Claude.
+
+As their hails were unanswered, one of the party dismounted to enter the
+building.
+
+"Have a care, My Lord," cried his companion. "This be over-close to the
+Castle Torn and there may easily be more treachery than truth in the
+message which called thee thither."
+
+"Fear not," replied Simon de Montfort, "the Devil of Torn hath no
+quarrel with me." Striding up the little path, he knocked loudly on the
+door. Receiving no reply, he pushed it open and stepped into the dim
+light of the interior. There he found his host, the good father Claude,
+stretched upon his back on the floor, the breast of his priestly robes
+dark with dried and clotted blood.
+
+Turning again to the door, De Montfort summoned a couple of his
+companions.
+
+"The secret of the little lost prince of England be a dangerous burden
+for a man to carry," he said. "But this convinces me more than any words
+the priest might have uttered that the abductor be still in England, and
+possibly Prince Richard also."
+
+A search of the cottage revealed the fact that it had been ransacked
+thoroughly by the assassin. The contents of drawer and box littered
+every room, though that the object was not rich plunder was evidenced by
+many pieces of jewelry and money which remained untouched.
+
+"The true object lies here," said De Montfort, pointing to the open
+hearth upon which lay the charred remains of many papers and documents.
+"All written evidence has been destroyed, but hold what lieth here
+beneath the table?" and, stooping, the Earl of Leicester picked up
+a sheet of parchment on which a letter had been commenced. It was
+addressed to him, and he read it aloud:
+
+Lest some unforeseen chance should prevent the accomplishment of our
+meeting, My Lord Earl, I send thee this by one who knoweth not either
+its contents or the suspicions which I will narrate herein.
+
+He who bareth this letter, I truly believe to be the lost Prince
+Richard. Question him closely, My Lord, and I know that thou wilt be as
+positive as I.
+
+Of his past, thou know nearly as much as I, though thou may not know the
+wondrous chivalry and true nobility of character of him men call!!!!!
+
+Here the letter stopped, evidently cut short by the dagger of the
+assassin.
+
+"Mon Dieu! The damnable luck!" cried De Montfort, "but a second more
+and the name we have sought for twenty years would have been writ.
+Didst ever see such hellish chance as plays into the hand of the fiend
+incarnate since that long gone day when his sword pierced the heart of
+Lady Maud by the postern gate beside the Thames? The Devil himself must
+watch o'er him.
+
+"There be naught more we can do here," he continued. "I should have been
+on my way to Fletching hours since. Come, my gentlemen, we will ride
+south by way of Leicester and have the good Fathers there look to the
+decent burial of this holy man."
+
+The party mounted and rode rapidly away. Noon found them at Leicester,
+and three days later, they rode into the baronial camp at Fletching.
+
+At almost the same hour, the monks of the Abbey of Leicester performed
+the last rites of Holy Church for the peace of the soul of Father Claude
+and consigned his clay to the churchyard.
+
+And thus another innocent victim of an insatiable hate and vengeance
+which had been born in the King's armory twenty years before passed from
+the eyes of men.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+While Norman of Torn and his thousand fighting men marched slowly south
+on the road toward Dover, the army of Simon de Montfort was preparing
+for its advance upon Lewes, where King Henry, with his son Prince
+Edward, and his brother, Prince Richard, King of the Romans, together
+with the latter's son, were entrenched with their forces, sixty thousand
+strong.
+
+Before sunrise on a May morning in the year 1264, the barons' army set
+out from its camp at Fletching, nine miles from Lewes and, marching
+through dense forests, reached a point two miles from the city,
+unobserved.
+
+From here, they ascended the great ridge of the hills up the valley
+Combe, the projecting shoulder of the Downs covering their march from
+the town. The King's party, however, had no suspicion that an attack was
+imminent and, in direct contrast to the methods of the baronial troops,
+had spent the preceding night in drunken revelry, so that they were
+quite taken by surprise.
+
+It is true that Henry had stationed an outpost upon the summit of the
+hill in advance of Lewes, but so lax was discipline in his army that
+the soldiers, growing tired of the duty, had abandoned the post toward
+morning, and returned to town, leaving but a single man on watch. He,
+left alone, had promptly fallen asleep, and thus De Montfort's men found
+and captured him within sight of the bell-tower of the Priory of Lewes,
+where the King and his royal allies lay peacefully asleep, after their
+night of wine and dancing and song.
+
+Had it not been for an incident which now befell, the baronial army
+would doubtless have reached the city without being detected, but it
+happened that, the evening before, Henry had ordered a foraging party to
+ride forth at daybreak, as provisions for both men and beasts were low.
+
+This party had scarcely left the city behind them ere they fell into the
+hands of the baronial troops. Though some few were killed or captured,
+those who escaped were sufficient to arouse the sleeping army of the
+royalists to the close proximity and gravity of their danger.
+
+By this time, the four divisions of De Montfort's army were in full view
+of the town. On the left were the Londoners under Nicholas de Segrave;
+in the center rode De Clare, with John Fitz-John and William de
+Monchensy, at the head of a large division which occupied that branch of
+the hill which descended a gentle, unbroken slope to the town. The right
+wing was commanded by Henry de Montfort, the oldest son of Simon de
+Montfort, and with him was the third son, Guy, as well as John de
+Burgh and Humphrey de Bohun. The reserves were under Simon de Montfort
+himself.
+
+Thus was the flower of English chivalry pitted against the King and his
+party, which included many nobles whose kinsmen were with De Montfort;
+so that brother faced brother, and father fought against son, on that
+bloody Wednesday, before the old town of Lewes.
+
+Prince Edward was the first of the royal party to take the field and, as
+he issued from the castle with his gallant company, banners and
+pennons streaming in the breeze and burnished armor and flashing blade
+scintillating in the morning sunlight, he made a gorgeous and impressive
+spectacle as he hurled himself upon the Londoners, whom he had selected
+for attack because of the affront they had put upon his mother that day
+at London on the preceding July.
+
+So vicious was his onslaught that the poorly armed and unprotected
+burghers, unused to the stern game of war, fell like sheep before the
+iron men on their iron shod horses. The long lances, the heavy maces,
+the six-bladed battle axes, and the well-tempered swords of the knights
+played havoc among them, so that the rout was complete; but, not content
+with victory, Prince Edward must glut his vengeance, and so he pursued
+the citizens for miles, butchering great numbers of them, while many
+more were drowned in attempting to escape across the Ouse.
+
+The left wing of the royalist army, under the King of the Romans and his
+gallant son, was not so fortunate, for they met a determined resistance
+at the hands of Henry de Montfort.
+
+The central divisions of the two armies seemed well matched also, and
+thus the battle continued throughout the day, the greatest advantage
+appearing to lie with the King's troops. Had Edward not gone so far
+afield in pursuit of the Londoners, the victory might easily have been
+on the side of the royalists early in the day, but by thus eliminating
+his division after defeating a part of De Montfort's army, it was as
+though neither of these two forces had been engaged.
+
+The wily Simon de Montfort had attempted a little ruse which centered
+the fighting for a time upon the crest of one of the hills. He had
+caused his car to be placed there, with the tents and luggage of many of
+his leaders, under a small guard, so that the banners there displayed,
+together with the car, led the King of the Romans to believe that the
+Earl himself lay there, for Simon de Montfort had but a month or so
+before suffered an injury to his hip when his horse fell with him, and
+the royalists were not aware that he had recovered sufficiently to again
+mount a horse.
+
+And so it was that the forces under the King of the Romans pushed back
+the men of Henry de Montfort, and ever and ever closer to the car came
+the royalists until they were able to fall upon it, crying out insults
+against the old Earl and commanding him to come forth. And when they had
+killed the occupants of the car, they found that Simon de Montfort
+was not among them, but instead he had fastened there three important
+citizens of London, old men and influential, who had opposed him, and
+aided and abetted the King.
+
+So great was the wrath of Prince Richard, King of the Romans, that
+he fell upon the baronial troops with renewed vigor, and slowly but
+steadily beat them back from the town.
+
+This sight, together with the routing of the enemy's left wing by Prince
+Edward, so cheered and inspired the royalists that the two remaining
+divisions took up the attack with refreshed spirits so that, what a
+moment before had hung in the balance, now seemed an assured victory for
+King Henry.
+
+Both De Montfort and the King had thrown themselves into the melee
+with all their reserves. No longer was there semblance of organization.
+Division was inextricably bemingled with division; friend and foe formed
+a jumbled confusion of fighting, cursing chaos, over which whipped the
+angry pennons and banners of England's noblest houses.
+
+That the mass seemed moving ever away from Lewes indicated that the
+King's arms were winning toward victory, and so it might have been had
+not a new element been infused into the battle; for now upon the brow of
+the hill to the north of them appeared a great horde of armored knights,
+and as they came into position where they could view the battle, the
+leader raised his sword on high, and, as one man, the thousand broke
+into a mad charge.
+
+Both De Montfort and the King ceased fighting as they gazed upon this
+body of fresh, well armored, well mounted reinforcements. Whom might
+they be? To which side owned they allegiance? And, then, as the
+black falcon wing on the banners of the advancing horsemen became
+distinguishable, they saw that it was the Outlaw of Torn.
+
+Now he was close upon them, and had there been any doubt before, the
+wild battle cry which rang from a thousand fierce throats turned the
+hopes of the royalists cold within their breasts.
+
+"For De Montfort! For De Montfort!" and "Down with Henry!" rang loud and
+clear above the din of battle.
+
+Instantly the tide turned, and it was by only the barest chance that
+the King himself escaped capture, and regained the temporary safety of
+Lewes.
+
+The King of the Romans took refuge within an old mill, and here it was
+that Norman of Torn found him barricaded. When the door was broken down,
+the outlaw entered and dragged the monarch forth with his own hand to
+the feet of De Montfort, and would have put him to death had not the
+Earl intervened.
+
+"I have yet to see my mark upon the forehead of a King," said Norman of
+Torn, "and the temptation be great; but, an you ask it, My Lord Earl,
+his life shall be yours to do with as you see fit."
+
+"You have fought well this day, Norman of Torn," replied De Montfort.
+"Verily do I believe we owe our victory to you alone; so do not mar the
+record of a noble deed by wanton acts of atrocity."
+
+"It is but what they had done to me, were I the prisoner instead,"
+retorted the outlaw.
+
+And Simon de Montfort could not answer that, for it was but the simple
+truth.
+
+"How comes it, Norman of Torn," asked De Montfort as they rode together
+toward Lewes, "that you threw the weight of your sword upon the side of
+the barons? Be it because you hate the King more?"
+
+"I do not know that I hate either, My Lord Earl," replied the outlaw. "I
+have been taught since birth to hate you all, but why I should hate
+was never told me. Possibly it be but a bad habit that will yield to my
+maturer years.
+
+"As for why I fought as I did today," he continued, "it be because the
+heart of Lady Bertrade, your daughter, be upon your side. Had it been
+with the King, her uncle, Norman of Torn had fought otherwise than
+he has this day. So you see, My Lord Earl, you owe me no gratitude.
+Tomorrow I may be pillaging your friends as of yore."
+
+Simon de Montfort turned to look at him, but the blank wall of his
+lowered visor gave no sign of the thoughts that passed beneath.
+
+"You do much for a mere friendship, Norman of Torn," said the Earl
+coldly, "and I doubt me not but that my daughter has already forgot you.
+An English noblewoman, preparing to become a princess of France, does
+not have much thought to waste upon highwaymen." His tone, as well as
+his words were studiously arrogant and insulting, for it had stung the
+pride of this haughty noble to think that a low-born knave boasted the
+friendship of his daughter.
+
+Norman of Torn made no reply, and could the Earl of Leicester have seen
+his face, he had been surprised to note that instead of grim hatred and
+resentment, the features of the Outlaw of Torn were drawn in lines of
+pain and sorrow; for he read in the attitude of the father what he might
+expect to receive at the hands of the daughter.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+When those of the royalists who had not deserted the King and fled
+precipitately toward the coast had regained the castle and the Priory,
+the city was turned over to looting and rapine. In this, Norman of Torn
+and his men did not participate, but camped a little apart from the town
+until daybreak the following morning, when they started east, toward
+Dover.
+
+They marched until late the following evening, passing some twenty miles
+out of their way to visit a certain royalist stronghold. The troops
+stationed there had fled, having been appraised some few hours earlier,
+by fugitives, of the defeat of Henry's army at Lewes.
+
+Norman of Torn searched the castle for the one he sought, but, finding
+it entirely deserted, continued his eastward march. Some few miles
+farther on, he overtook a party of deserting royalist soldiery, and from
+them he easily, by dint of threats, elicited the information he desired:
+the direction taken by the refugees from the deserted castle, their
+number, and as close a description of the party as the soldiers could
+give.
+
+Again he was forced to change the direction of his march, this
+time heading northward into Kent. It was dark before he reached his
+destination, and saw before him the familiar outlines of the castle
+of Roger de Leybourn. This time, the outlaw threw his fierce horde
+completely around the embattled pile before he advanced with a score of
+sturdy ruffians to reconnoiter.
+
+Making sure that the drawbridge was raised, and that he could not hope
+for stealthy entrance there, he crept silently to the rear of the great
+building and there, among the bushes, his men searched for the ladder
+that Norman of Torn had seen the knavish servant of My Lady Claudia
+unearth, that the outlaw might visit the Earl of Buckingham,
+unannounced.
+
+Presently they found it, and it was the work of but a moment to raise
+it to the sill of the low window, so that soon the twenty stood beside
+their chief within the walls of Leybourn.
+
+Noiselessly, they moved through the halls and corridors of the castle
+until a maid, bearing a great pasty from the kitchen, turned a sudden
+corner and bumped full into the Outlaw of Torn. With a shriek that might
+have been heard at Lewes, she dropped the dish upon the stone floor and,
+turning, ran, still shrieking at the top of her lungs, straight for the
+great dining hall.
+
+So close behind her came the little band of outlaws that scarce had the
+guests arisen in consternation from the table at the shrill cries of the
+girl than Norman of Torn burst through the great door with twenty drawn
+swords at his back.
+
+The hall was filled with knights and gentlewomen and house servants and
+men-at-arms. Fifty swords flashed from fifty scabbards as the men of the
+party saw the hostile appearance of their visitors, but before a blow
+could be struck, Norman of Torn, grasping his sword in his right hand,
+raised his left aloft in a gesture for silence.
+
+"Hold!" he cried, and, turning directly to Roger de Leybourn, "I have
+no quarrel with thee, My Lord, but again I come for a guest within thy
+halls. Methinks thou hast as bad taste in whom thou entertains as didst
+thy fair lady."
+
+"Who be ye, that thus rudely breaks in upon the peace of my castle, and
+makes bold to insult my guests?" demanded Roger de Leybourn.
+
+"Who be I! If you wait, you shall see my mark upon the forehead of yon
+grinning baboon," replied the outlaw, pointing a mailed finger at one
+who had been seated close to De Leybourn.
+
+All eyes turned in the direction that the rigid finger of the outlaw
+indicated, and there indeed was a fearful apparition of a man. With
+livid face he stood, leaning for support against the table; his craven
+knees wabbling beneath his fat carcass; while his lips were drawn apart
+against his yellow teeth in a horrid grimace of awful fear.
+
+"If you recognize me not, Sir Roger," said Norman of Torn, drily, "it is
+evident that your honored guest hath a better memory."
+
+At last the fear-struck man found his tongue, and, though his eyes never
+left the menacing figure of the grim, iron-clad outlaw, he addressed the
+master of Leybourn; shrieking in a high, awe-emasculated falsetto:
+
+"Seize him! Kill him! Set your men upon him! Do you wish to live another
+moment, draw and defend yourselves for he be the Devil of Torn, and
+there be a great price upon his head.
+
+"Oh, save me, save me! for he has come to kill me," he ended in a
+pitiful wail.
+
+The Devil of Torn! How that name froze the hearts of the assembled
+guests.
+
+The Devil of Torn! Slowly the men standing there at the board of Sir
+Roger de Leybourn grasped the full purport of that awful name.
+
+Tense silence for a moment held the room in the stillness of a
+sepulchre, and then a woman shrieked, and fell prone across the table.
+She had seen the mark of the Devil of Torn upon the dead brow of her
+mate.
+
+And then Roger de Leybourn spoke:
+
+"Norman of Torn, but once before have you entered within the walls of
+Leybourn, and then you did, in the service of another, a great service
+for the house of Leybourn; and you stayed the night, an honored guest.
+But a moment since, you said that you had no quarrel with me. Then why
+be you here? Speak! Shall it be as a friend or an enemy that the master
+of Leybourn greets Norman of Torn; shall it be with outstretched hand or
+naked sword?"
+
+"I come for this man, whom you may all see has good reason to fear me.
+And when I go, I take part of him with me. I be in a great hurry, so I
+would prefer to take my great and good friend, Peter of Colfax, without
+interference; but, if you wish it otherwise; we be a score strong within
+your walls, and nigh a thousand lie without. What say you, My Lord?"
+
+"Your grievance against Peter of Colfax must be a mighty one, that you
+search him out thus within a day's ride from the army of the King who
+has placed a price upon your head, and from another army of men who be
+equally your enemies."
+
+"I would gladly go to hell after Peter of Colfax," replied the outlaw.
+"What my grievance be matters not. Norman of Torn acts first and
+explains afterward, if he cares to explain at all. Come forth, Peter of
+Colfax, and for once in your life, fight like a man, that you may save
+your friends here from the fate that has found you at last after two
+years of patient waiting."
+
+Slowly, the palsied limbs of the great coward bore him tottering to the
+center of the room, where gradually a little clear space had been made;
+the men of the party forming a circle, in the center of which stood
+Peter of Colfax and Norman of Torn.
+
+"Give him a great draught of brandy," said the outlaw, "or he will sink
+down and choke in the froth of his own terror."
+
+When they had forced a goblet of the fiery liquid upon him, Peter of
+Colfax regained his lost nerve enough so that he could raise his sword
+arm and defend himself and, as the fumes circulated through him, and the
+primal instinct of self-preservation asserted itself, he put up a more
+and more creditable fight, until those who watched thought that he might
+indeed have a chance to vanquish the Outlaw of Torn. But they did not
+know that Norman of Torn was but playing with his victim, that he might
+make the torture long, drawn out, and wreak as terrible a punishment
+upon Peter of Colfax, before he killed him, as the Baron had visited
+upon Bertrade de Montfort because she would not yield to his base
+desires.
+
+The guests were craning their necks to follow every detail of the
+fascinating drama that was being enacted before them.
+
+"God, what a swordsman!" muttered one.
+
+"Never was such swordplay seen since the day the first sword was
+drawn from the first scabbard!" replied Roger de Leybourn. "Is it not
+marvellous!"
+
+Slowly but surely was Norman of Torn cutting Peter of Colfax to pieces;
+little by little, and with such fiendish care that, except for loss
+of blood, the man was in no way crippled; nor did the outlaw touch
+his victim's face with his gleaming sword. That he was saving for the
+fulfillment of his design.
+
+And Peter of Colfax, cornered and fighting for his life, was no
+marrowless antagonist, even against the Devil of Torn. Furiously he
+fought; in the extremity of his fear, rushing upon his executioner with
+frenzied agony. Great beads of cold sweat stood upon his livid brow.
+
+And then the gleaming point of Norman of Torn flashed, lightning-like,
+in his victim's face, and above the right eye of Peter of Colfax was a
+thin vertical cut from which the red blood had barely started to ooze
+ere another swift move of that master sword hand placed a fellow to
+parallel the first.
+
+Five times did the razor point touch the forehead of Peter of Colfax,
+until the watchers saw there, upon the brow of the doomed man, the seal
+of death, in letters of blood--NT.
+
+It was the end. Peter of Colfax, cut to ribbons yet fighting like the
+maniac he had become, was as good as dead, for the mark of the Outlaw of
+Torn was upon his brow. Now, shrieking and gibbering through his frothy
+lips, his yellow fangs bared in a mad and horrid grin, he rushed full
+upon Norman of Torn. There was a flash of the great sword as the outlaw
+swung it to the full of his mighty strength through an arc that passed
+above the shoulders of Peter of Colfax, and the grinning head rolled
+upon the floor, while the loathsome carcass, that had been a baron of
+England, sunk in a disheveled heap among the rushes of the great hall of
+the castle of Leybourn.
+
+A little shudder passed through the wide-eyed guests. Some one broke
+into hysterical laughter, a woman sobbed, and then Norman of Torn,
+wiping his blade upon the rushes of the floor as he had done upon
+another occasion in that same hall, spoke quietly to the master of
+Leybourn.
+
+"I would borrow yon golden platter, My Lord. It shall be returned, or a
+mightier one in its stead."
+
+Leybourn nodded his assent, and Norman of Torn turned, with a few words
+of instructions, to one of his men.
+
+The fellow gathered up the head of Peter of Colfax, and placed it upon
+the golden platter.
+
+"I thank you, Sir Roger, for your hospitality," said Norman of Torn,
+with a low bow which included the spellbound guests. "Adieu." Thus
+followed by his men, one bearing the head of Peter of Colfax upon the
+platter of gold, Norman of Torn passed quietly from the hall and from
+the castle.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+Both horses and men were fairly exhausted from the gruelling strain of
+many days of marching and fighting, so Norman of Torn went into camp
+that night; nor did he again take up his march until the second morning,
+three days after the battle of Lewes.
+
+He bent his direction toward the north and Leicester's castle, where he
+had reason to believe he would find a certain young woman, and though it
+galled his sore heart to think upon the humiliation that lay waiting his
+coming, he could not do less than that which he felt his honor demanded.
+
+Beside him on the march rode the fierce red giant, Shandy, and the wiry,
+gray little man of Torn, whom the outlaw called father.
+
+In no way, save the gray hair and the parchment-surfaced skin, had
+the old fellow changed in all these years. Without bodily vices, and
+clinging ever to the open air and the exercise of the foil, he was still
+young in muscle and endurance.
+
+For five years, he had not crossed foils with Norman of Torn, but he
+constantly practiced with the best swordsmen of the wild horde, so that
+it had become a subject often discussed among the men as to which of the
+two, father or son, was the greater swordsman.
+
+Always taciturn, the old fellow rode in his usual silence. Long since
+had Norman of Torn usurped by the force of his strong character and
+masterful ways, the position of authority in the castle of Torn. The old
+man simply rode and fought with the others when it pleased him; and he
+had come on this trip because he felt that there was that impending for
+which he had waited over twenty years.
+
+Cold and hard, he looked with no love upon the man he still called "my
+son." If he held any sentiment toward Norman of Torn, it was one of
+pride which began and ended in the almost fiendish skill of his pupil's
+mighty sword arm.
+
+The little army had been marching for some hours when the advance guard
+halted a party bound south upon a crossroad. There were some twenty or
+thirty men, mostly servants, and a half dozen richly garbed knights.
+
+As Norman of Torn drew rein beside them, he saw that the leader of the
+party was a very handsome man of about his own age, and evidently a
+person of distinction; a profitable prize, thought the outlaw.
+
+"Who are you," said the gentleman, in French, "that stops a prince of
+France upon the highroad as though he were an escaped criminal? Are you
+of the King's forces, or De Montfort's?"
+
+"Be this Prince Philip of France?" asked Norman of Torn.
+
+"Yes, but who be you?"
+
+"And be you riding to meet my Lady Bertrade de Montfort?" continued the
+outlaw, ignoring the Prince's question.
+
+"Yes, an it be any of your affair," replied Philip curtly.
+
+"It be," said the Devil of Torn, "for I be a friend of My Lady Bertrade,
+and as the way be beset with dangers from disorganized bands of roving
+soldiery, it is unsafe for Monsieur le Prince to venture on with so
+small an escort. Therefore will the friend of Lady Bertrade de Montfort
+ride with Monsieur le Prince to his destination that Monsieur may arrive
+there safely."
+
+"It is kind of you, Sir Knight, a kindness that I will not forget. But,
+again, who is it that shows this solicitude for Philip of France?"
+
+"Norman of Torn, they call me," replied the outlaw.
+
+"Indeed!" cried Philip. "The great and bloody outlaw?" Upon his handsome
+face there was no look of fear or repugnance.
+
+Norman of Torn laughed.
+
+"Monsieur le Prince thinks, mayhap, that he will make a bad name for
+himself," he said, "if he rides in such company?"
+
+"My Lady Bertrade and her mother think you be less devil than saint,"
+said the Prince. "They have told me of how you saved the daughter of De
+Montfort, and, ever since, I have been of a great desire to meet you,
+and to thank you. It had been my intention to ride to Torn for that
+purpose so soon as we reached Leicester, but the Earl changed all our
+plans by his victory and only yesterday, on his orders, the Princess
+Eleanor, his wife, with the Lady Bertrade, rode to Battel, where Simon
+de Montfort and the King are to be today. The Queen also is there
+with her retinue, so it be expected that, to show the good feeling and
+renewed friendship existing between De Montfort and his King, there will
+be gay scenes in the old fortress. But," he added, after a pause, "dare
+the Outlaw of Torn ride within reach of the King who has placed a price
+upon his head?"
+
+"The price has been there since I was eighteen," answered Norman of
+Torn, "and yet my head be where it has always been. Can you blame me
+if I look with levity upon the King's price? It be not heavy enough to
+weigh me down; nor never has it held me from going where I listed in all
+England. I am freer than the King, My Lord, for the King be a prisoner
+today."
+
+Together they rode toward Battel, and as they talked, Norman of Torn
+grew to like this brave and handsome gentleman. In his heart was no
+rancor because of the coming marriage of the man to the woman he loved.
+
+If Bertrade de Montfort loved this handsome French prince, then Norman
+of Torn was his friend; for his love was a great love, above jealousy.
+It not only held her happiness above his own, but the happiness and
+welfare of the man she loved, as well.
+
+It was dusk when they reached Battel and as Norman of Torn bid the
+prince adieu, for the horde was to make camp just without the city, he
+said:
+
+"May I ask My Lord to carry a message to Lady Bertrade? It is in
+reference to a promise I made her two years since and which I now, for
+the first time, be able to fulfill."
+
+"Certainly, my friend," replied Philip. The outlaw, dismounting, called
+upon one of his squires for parchment, and, by the light of a torch,
+wrote a message to Bertrade de Montfort.
+
+Half an hour later, a servant in the castle of Battel handed the missive
+to the daughter of Leicester as she sat alone in her apartment. Opening
+it, she read:
+
+To Lady Bertrade de Montfort, from her friend, Norman of Torn.
+
+Two years have passed since you took the hand of the Outlaw of Torn in
+friendship, and now he comes to sue for another favor.
+
+It is that he may have speech with you, alone, in the castle of Battel
+this night.
+
+Though the name Norman of Torn be fraught with terror to others, I know
+that you do not fear him, for you must know the loyalty and friendship
+which he bears you.
+
+My camp lies without the city's gates, and your messenger will have safe
+conduct whatever reply he bears to,
+
+Norman of Torn.
+
+Fear? Fear Norman of Torn? The girl smiled as she thought of that moment
+of terrible terror two years ago when she learned, in the castle of
+Peter of Colfax, that she was alone with, and in the power of, the Devil
+of Torn. And then she recalled his little acts of thoughtful chivalry,
+nay, almost tenderness, on the long night ride to Leicester.
+
+What a strange contradiction of a man! She wondered if he would come
+with lowered visor, for she was still curious to see the face that lay
+behind the cold, steel mask. She would ask him this night to let her see
+his face, or would that be cruel? For, did they not say that it was
+from the very ugliness of it that he kept his helm closed to hide the
+repulsive sight from the eyes of men!
+
+As her thoughts wandered back to her brief meeting with him two years
+before, she wrote and dispatched her reply to Norman of Torn.
+
+In the great hall that night as the King's party sat at supper, Philip
+of France, addressing Henry, said:
+
+"And who thinkest thou, My Lord King, rode by my side to Battel today,
+that I might not be set upon by knaves upon the highway?"
+
+"Some of our good friends from Kent?" asked the King.
+
+"Nay, it was a man upon whose head Your Majesty has placed a price,
+Norman of Torn; and if all of your English highwaymen be as courteous
+and pleasant gentlemen as he, I shall ride always alone and unarmed
+through your realm that I may add to my list of pleasant acquaintances."
+
+"The Devil of Torn?" asked Henry, incredulously. "Some one be hoaxing
+you."
+
+"Nay, Your Majesty, I think not," replied Philip, "for he was indeed a
+grim and mighty man, and at his back rode as ferocious and awe-inspiring
+a pack as ever I beheld outside a prison; fully a thousand strong they
+rode. They be camped not far without the city now."
+
+"My Lord," said Henry, turning to Simon de Montfort, "be it not time
+that England were rid of this devil's spawn and his hellish brood?
+Though I presume," he added, a sarcastic sneer upon his lip, "that it
+may prove embarrassing for My Lord Earl of Leicester to turn upon his
+companion in arms."
+
+"I owe him nothing," returned the Earl haughtily, "by his own word."
+
+"You owe him victory at Lewes," snapped the King. "It were indeed a
+sad commentary upon the sincerity of our loyalty-professing lieges
+who turned their arms against our royal person, 'to save him from the
+treachery of his false advisers,' that they called upon a cutthroat
+outlaw with a price upon his head to aid them in their 'righteous
+cause'."
+
+"My Lord King," cried De Montfort, flushing with anger, "I called not
+upon this fellow, nor did I know he was within two hundred miles of
+Lewes until I saw him ride into the midst of the conflict that day.
+Neither did I know, until I heard his battle cry, whether he would fall
+upon baron or royalist."
+
+"If that be the truth, Leicester," said the King, with a note of
+skepticism which he made studiously apparent, "hang the dog. He be just
+without the city even now."
+
+"You be King of England, My Lord Henry. If you say that he shall be
+hanged, hanged he shall be," replied De Montfort.
+
+"A dozen courts have already passed sentence upon him, it only remains
+to catch him, Leicester," said the King.
+
+"A party shall sally forth at dawn to do the work," replied De Montfort.
+
+"And not," thought Philip of France, "if I know it, shall the brave
+Outlaw of Torn be hanged tomorrow."
+
+In his camp without the city of Battel, Norman of Torn paced back and
+forth waiting an answer to his message.
+
+Sentries patrolled the entire circumference of the bivouac, for the
+outlaw knew full well that he had put his head within the lion's jaw
+when he had ridden thus boldly to the seat of English power. He had no
+faith in the gratitude of De Montfort, and he knew full well what the
+King would urge when he learned that the man who had sent his soldiers
+naked back to London, who had forced his messenger to eat the King's
+message, and who had turned his victory to defeat at Lewes, was within
+reach of the army of De Montfort.
+
+Norman of Torn loved to fight, but he was no fool, and so he did not
+relish pitting his thousand upon an open plain against twenty thousand
+within a walled fortress.
+
+No, he would see Bertrade de Montfort that night and before dawn his
+rough band would be far on the road toward Torn. The risk was great to
+enter the castle, filled as it was with his mighty enemies. But if he
+died there, it would be in a good cause, thought he and, anyway, he had
+set himself to do this duty which he dreaded so, and do it he would were
+all the armies of the world camped within Battel.
+
+Directly he heard a low challenge from one of his sentries, who
+presently appeared escorting a lackey.
+
+"A messenger from Lady Bertrade de Montfort," said the soldier.
+
+"Bring him hither," commanded the outlaw.
+
+The lackey approached and handed Norman of Torn a dainty parchment
+sealed with scented wax wafers.
+
+"Did My Lady say you were to wait for an answer?" asked the outlaw.
+
+"I am to wait, My Lord," replied the awestruck fellow, to whom the
+service had been much the same had his mistress ordered him to Hell to
+bear a message to the Devil.
+
+Norman of Torn turned to a flickering torch and, breaking the seals,
+read the message from the woman he loved. It was short and simple.
+
+To Norman of Torn, from his friend always, Bertrade de Montfort.
+
+Come with Giles. He has my instructions to lead thee secretly to where I
+be.
+
+Bertrade de Montfort.
+
+Norman of Torn turned to where one of his captains squatted upon the
+ground beside an object covered with a cloth.
+
+"Come, Flory," he said, and then, turning to the waiting Giles, "lead
+on."
+
+They fell in single file: first the lackey, Giles, then Norman of Torn
+and last the fellow whom he had addressed as Flory bearing the object
+covered with a cloth. But it was not Flory who brought up the rear.
+Flory lay dead in the shadow of a great oak within the camp; a thin
+wound below his left shoulder blade marked the spot where a keen dagger
+had found its way to his heart, and in his place walked the little grim,
+gray, old man, bearing the object covered with a cloth. But none might
+know the difference, for the little man wore the armor of Flory, and his
+visor was drawn.
+
+And so they came to a small gate which let into the castle wall where
+the shadow of a great tower made the blackness of a black night doubly
+black. Through many dim corridors, the lackey led them, and up winding
+stairways until presently he stopped before a low door.
+
+"Here," he said, "My Lord," and turning left them.
+
+Norman of Torn touched the panel with the mailed knuckles of his right
+hand, and a low voice from within whispered, "Enter."
+
+Silently, he strode into the apartment, a small antechamber off a
+large hall. At one end was an open hearth upon which logs were burning
+brightly, while a single lamp aided in diffusing a soft glow about the
+austere chamber. In the center of the room was a table, and at the sides
+several benches.
+
+Before the fire stood Bertrade de Montfort, and she was alone.
+
+"Place your burden upon this table, Flory," said Norman of Torn. And
+when it had been done: "You may go. Return to camp."
+
+He did not address Bertrade de Montfort until the door had closed behind
+the little grim, gray man who wore the armor of the dead Flory and
+then Norman of Torn advanced to the table and stood with his left hand
+ungauntleted, resting upon the table's edge.
+
+"My Lady Bertrade," he said at last, "I have come to fulfill a promise."
+
+He spoke in French, and she started slightly at his voice. Before,
+Norman of Torn had always spoken in English. Where had she heard that
+voice! There were tones in it that haunted her.
+
+"What promise did Norman of Torn e'er make to Bertrade de Montfort?" she
+asked. "I do not understand you, my friend."
+
+"Look," he said. And as she approached the table he withdrew the cloth
+which covered the object that the man had placed there.
+
+The girl started back with a little cry of terror, for there upon a
+golden platter was a man's head; horrid with the grin of death baring
+yellow fangs.
+
+"Dost recognize the thing?" asked the outlaw. And then she did; but
+still she could not comprehend. At last, slowly, there came back to her
+the idle, jesting promise of Roger de Conde to fetch the head of her
+enemy to the feet of his princess, upon a golden dish.
+
+But what had the Outlaw of Torn to do with that! It was all a sore
+puzzle to her, and then she saw the bared left hand of the grim, visored
+figure of the Devil of Torn, where it rested upon the table beside the
+grisly head of Peter of Colfax; and upon the third finger was the great
+ring she had tossed to Roger de Conde on that day, two years before.
+
+What strange freak was her brain playing her! It could not be, no it was
+impossible; then her glance fell again upon the head grinning there upon
+the platter of gold, and upon the forehead of it she saw, in letters of
+dried blood, that awful symbol of sudden death--NT!
+
+Slowly her eyes returned to the ring upon the outlaw's hand, and then
+up to his visored helm. A step she took toward him, one hand upon her
+breast, the other stretched pointing toward his face, and she swayed
+slightly as might one who has just arisen from a great illness.
+
+"Your visor," she whispered, "raise your visor." And then, as though to
+herself: "It cannot be; it cannot be."
+
+Norman of Torn, though it tore the heart from him, did as she bid, and
+there before her she saw the brave strong face of Roger de Conde.
+
+"Mon Dieu!" she cried, "Tell me it is but a cruel joke."
+
+"It be the cruel truth, My Lady Bertrade," said Norman of Torn sadly.
+And, then, as she turned away from him, burying her face in her raised
+arms, he came to her side, and, laying his hand upon her shoulder, said
+sadly:
+
+"And now you see, My Lady, why I did not follow you to France. My heart
+went there with you, but I knew that naught but sorrow and humiliation
+could come to one whom the Devil of Torn loved, if that love was
+returned; and so I waited until you might forget the words you had
+spoken to Roger de Conde before I came to fulfill the promise that you
+should know him in his true colors.
+
+"It is because I love you, Bertrade, that I have come this night. God
+knows that it be no pleasant thing to see the loathing in your very
+attitude, and to read the hate and revulsion that surges through your
+heart, or to guess the hard, cold thoughts which fill your mind against
+me because I allowed you to speak the words you once spoke, and to the
+Devil of Torn.
+
+"I make no excuse for my weakness. I ask no forgiveness for what I know
+you never can forgive. That, when you think of me, it will always be
+with loathing and contempt is the best that I can hope.
+
+"I only know that I love you, Bertrade; I only know that I love you, and
+with a love that surpasseth even my own understanding.
+
+"Here is the ring that you gave in token of friendship. Take it. The
+hand that wore it has done no wrong by the light that has been given it
+as guide.
+
+"The blood that has pulsed through the finger that it circled came from
+a heart that beat for Bertrade de Montfort; a heart that shall continue
+to beat for her alone until a merciful providence sees fit to gather in
+a wasted and useless life.
+
+"Farewell, Bertrade." Kneeling he raised the hem of her garment to his
+lips.
+
+A thousand conflicting emotions surged through the heart of this proud
+daughter of the new conqueror of England. The anger of an outraged
+confidence, gratitude for the chivalry which twice had saved her honor,
+hatred for the murderer of a hundred friends and kinsmen, respect and
+honor for the marvellous courage of the man, loathing and contempt for
+the base born, the memory of that exalted moment when those handsome
+lips had clung to hers, pride in the fearlessness of a champion who
+dared come alone among twenty thousand enemies for the sake of a promise
+made her; but stronger than all the rest, two stood out before her
+mind's eye like living things--the degradation of his low birth, and
+the memory of the great love she had cherished all these long and dreary
+months.
+
+And these two fought out their battle in the girl's breast. In those few
+brief moments of bewilderment and indecision, it seemed to Bertrade de
+Montfort that ten years passed above her head, and when she reached her
+final resolution she was no longer a young girl but a grown woman who,
+with the weight of a mature deliberation, had chosen the path which she
+would travel to the end--to the final goal, however sweet or however
+bitter.
+
+Slowly she turned toward him who knelt with bowed head at her feet, and,
+taking the hand that held the ring outstretched toward her, raised him
+to his feet. In silence she replaced the golden band upon his finger,
+and then she lifted her eyes to his.
+
+"Keep the ring, Norman of Torn," she said. "The friendship of Bertrade
+de Montfort is not lightly given nor lightly taken away," she hesitated,
+"nor is her love."
+
+"What do you mean?" he whispered. For in her eyes was that wondrous
+light he had seen there on that other day in the far castle of
+Leicester.
+
+"I mean," she answered, "that, Roger de Conde or Norman of Torn,
+gentleman or highwayman, it be all the same to Bertrade de Montfort--it
+be thee I love; thee!"
+
+Had she reviled him, spat upon him, he would not have been surprised,
+for he had expected the worst; but that she should love him! Oh God, had
+his overwrought nerves turned his poor head? Was he dreaming this thing,
+only to awaken to the cold and awful truth!
+
+But these warm arms about his neck, the sweet perfume of the breath that
+fanned his cheek; these were no dream!
+
+"Think thee what thou art saying, Bertrade?" he cried. "Dost forget that
+I be a low-born knave, knowing not my own mother and questioning even
+the identity of my father? Could a De Montfort face the world with such
+a man for husband?"
+
+"I know what I say, perfectly," she answered. "Were thou born out of
+wedlock, the son of a hostler and a scullery maid, still would I love
+thee, and honor thee, and cleave to thee. Where thou be, Norman of Torn,
+there shall be happiness for me. Thy friends shall be my friends; thy
+joys shall be my joys; thy sorrows, my sorrows; and thy enemies, even
+mine own father, shall be my enemies.
+
+"Why it is, my Norman, I know not. Only do I know that I didst often
+question my own self if in truth I did really love Roger de Conde, but
+thee--oh Norman, why is it that there be no shred of doubt now, that
+this heart, this soul, this body be all and always for the Outlaw of
+Torn?"
+
+"I do not know," he said simply and gravely. "So wonderful a thing be
+beyond my poor brain; but I think my heart knows, for in very joy, it
+is sending the hot blood racing and surging through my being till I were
+like to be consumed for the very heat of my happiness."
+
+"Sh!" she whispered, suddenly, "methinks I hear footsteps. They must not
+find thee here, Norman of Torn, for the King has only this night wrung
+a promise from my father to take thee in the morning and hang thee. What
+shall we do, Norman? Where shall we meet again?"
+
+"We shall not be separated, Bertrade; only so long as it may take thee
+to gather a few trinkets, and fetch thy riding cloak. Thou ridest north
+tonight with Norman of Torn, and by the third day, Father Claude shall
+make us one."
+
+"I am glad thee wish it," she replied. "I feared that, for some reason,
+thee might not think it best for me to go with thee now. Wait here, I
+will be gone but a moment. If the footsteps I hear approach this door,"
+and she indicated the door by which he had entered the little room,
+"thou canst step through this other doorway into the adjoining
+apartment, and conceal thyself there until the danger passes."
+
+Norman of Torn made a wry face, for he had no stomach for hiding himself
+away from danger.
+
+"For my sake," she pleaded. So he promised to do as she bid, and she ran
+swiftly from the room to fetch her belongings.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+When the little, grim, gray man had set the object covered with a cloth
+upon the table in the center of the room and left the apartment, he did
+not return to camp as Norman of Torn had ordered.
+
+Instead, he halted immediately without the little door, which he left a
+trifle ajar, and there he waited, listening to all that passed between
+Bertrade de Montfort and Norman of Torn.
+
+As he heard the proud daughter of Simon de Montfort declare her love for
+the Devil of Torn, a cruel smile curled his lip.
+
+"It will be better than I had hoped," he muttered, "and easier. 'S blood!
+How much easier now that Leicester, too, may have his whole proud heart
+in the hanging of Norman of Torn. Ah, what a sublime revenge! I have
+waited long, thou cur of a King, to return the blow thou struck
+that day, but the return shall be an hundred-fold increased by long
+accumulated interest."
+
+Quickly, the wiry figure hastened through the passageways and corridors,
+until he came to the great hall where sat De Montfort and the King, with
+Philip of France and many others, gentlemen and nobles.
+
+Before the guard at the door could halt him, he had broken into the room
+and, addressing the King, cried:
+
+"Wouldst take the Devil of Torn, My Lord King? He be now alone where a
+few men may seize him."
+
+"What now! What now!" ejaculated Henry. "What madman be this?"
+
+"I be no madman, Your Majesty. Never did brain work more clearly or to
+more certain ends," replied the man.
+
+"It may doubtless be some ruse of the cut-throat himself," cried De
+Montfort.
+
+"Where be the knave?" asked Henry.
+
+"He stands now within this palace and in his arms be Bertrade, daughter
+of My Lord Earl of Leicester. Even now she did but tell him that she
+loved him."
+
+"Hold," cried De Montfort. "Hold fast thy foul tongue. What meanest thou
+by uttering such lies, and to my very face?"
+
+"They be no lies, Simon de Montfort. An I tell thee that Roger de Conde
+and Norman of Torn be one and the same, thou wilt know that I speak no
+lie."
+
+De Montfort paled.
+
+"Where be the craven wretch?" he demanded.
+
+"Come," said the little, old man. And turning, he led from the hall,
+closely followed by De Montfort, the King, Prince Philip and the others.
+
+"Thou hadst better bring twenty fighting men--thou'lt need them all to
+take Norman of Torn," he advised De Montfort. And so as they passed the
+guard room, the party was increased by twenty men-at-arms.
+
+Scarcely had Bertrade de Montfort left him ere Norman of Torn heard the
+tramping of many feet. They seemed approaching up the dim corridor that
+led to the little door of the apartment where he stood.
+
+Quickly, he moved to the opposite door and, standing with his hand upon
+the latch, waited. Yes, they were coming that way, many of them and
+quickly and, as he heard them pause without, he drew aside the arras and
+pushed open the door behind him; backing into the other apartment just
+as Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester, burst into the room from the
+opposite side.
+
+At the same instant, a scream rang out behind Norman of Torn, and,
+turning, he faced a brightly lighted room in which sat Eleanor, Queen
+of England and another Eleanor, wife of Simon de Montfort, with their
+ladies.
+
+There was no hiding now, and no escape; for run he would not, even had
+there been where to run. Slowly, he backed away from the door toward a
+corner where, with his back against a wall and a table at his right,
+he might die as he had lived, fighting; for Norman of Torn knew that he
+could hope for no quarter from the men who had him cornered there like a
+great bear in a trap.
+
+With an army at their call, it were an easy thing to take a lone man,
+even though that man were the Devil of Torn.
+
+The King and De Montfort had now crossed the smaller apartment and were
+within the room where the outlaw stood at bay.
+
+At the far side, the group of royal and noble women stood huddled
+together, while behind De Montfort and the King pushed twenty gentlemen
+and as many men-at-arms.
+
+"What dost thou here, Norman of Torn?" cried De Montfort, angrily.
+"Where be my daughter, Bertrade?"
+
+"I be here, My Lord Earl, to attend to mine own affairs," replied Norman
+of Torn, "which be the affair of no other man. As to your daughter: I
+know nothing of her whereabouts. What should she have to do with the
+Devil of Torn, My Lord?"
+
+De Montfort turned toward the little gray man.
+
+"He lies," shouted he. "Her kisses be yet wet upon his lips."
+
+Norman of Torn looked at the speaker and, beneath the visor that was now
+partly raised, he saw the features of the man whom, for twenty years, he
+had called father.
+
+He had never expected love from this hard old man, but treachery and
+harm from him? No, he could not believe it. One of them must have gone
+mad. But why Flory's armor and where was the faithful Flory?
+
+"Father!" he ejaculated, "leadest thou the hated English King against
+thine own son?"
+
+"Thou be no son of mine, Norman of Torn," retorted the old man. "Thy
+days of usefulness to me be past. Tonight thou serve me best swinging
+from a wooden gibbet. Take him, My Lord Earl; they say there be a good
+strong gibbet in the courtyard below."
+
+"Wilt surrender, Norman of Torn?" cried De Montfort.
+
+"Yes," was the reply, "when this floor be ankle deep in English blood
+and my heart has ceased to beat, then will I surrender."
+
+"Come, come," cried the King. "Let your men take the dog, De Montfort!"
+
+"Have at him, then," ordered the Earl, turning toward the waiting
+men-at-arms, none of whom seemed overly anxious to advance upon the
+doomed outlaw.
+
+But an officer of the guard set them the example, and so they pushed
+forward in a body toward Norman of Torn; twenty blades bared against
+one.
+
+There was no play now for the Outlaw of Torn. It was grim battle and
+his only hope that he might take a fearful toll of his enemies before he
+himself went down.
+
+And so he fought as he never fought before, to kill as many and as
+quickly as he might. And to those who watched, it was as though the
+young officer of the Guard had not come within reach of that terrible
+blade ere he lay dead upon the floor, and then the point of death
+passed into the lungs of one of the men-at-arms, scarcely pausing ere it
+pierced the heart of a third.
+
+The soldiers fell back momentarily, awed by the frightful havoc of that
+mighty arm. Before De Montfort could urge them on to renew the attack, a
+girlish figure, clothed in a long riding cloak, burst through the little
+knot of men as they stood facing their lone antagonist.
+
+With a low cry of mingled rage and indignation, Bertrade de Montfort
+threw herself before the Devil of Torn, and facing the astonished
+company of king, prince, nobles and soldiers, drew herself to her full
+height, and with all the pride of race and blood that was her right of
+heritage from a French king on her father's side and an English king on
+her mother's, she flashed her defiance and contempt in the single word:
+
+"Cowards!"
+
+"What means this, girl?" demanded De Montfort, "Art gone stark mad? Know
+thou that this fellow be the Outlaw of Torn?"
+
+"If I had not before known it, My Lord," she replied haughtily, "it
+would be plain to me now as I see forty cowards hesitating to attack a
+lone man. What other man in all England could stand thus against forty?
+A lion at bay with forty jackals yelping at his feet."
+
+"Enough, girl," cried the King, "what be this knave to thee?"
+
+"He loves me, Your Majesty," she replied proudly, "and I, him."
+
+"Thou lov'st this low-born cut-throat, Bertrade," cried Henry. "Thou,
+a De Montfort, the daughter of my sister; who have seen this murderer's
+accursed mark upon the foreheads of thy kin; thou have seen him flaunt
+his defiance in the King's, thy uncle's, face, and bend his whole life
+to preying upon thy people; thou lov'st this monster?"
+
+"I love him, My Lord King."
+
+"Thou lov'st him, Bertrade?" asked Philip of France in a low tone,
+pressing nearer to the girl.
+
+"Yes, Philip," she said, a little note of sadness and finality in her
+voice; but her eyes met his squarely and bravely.
+
+Instantly, the sword of the young Prince leaped from its scabbard, and
+facing De Montfort and the others, he backed to the side of Norman of
+Torn.
+
+"That she loves him be enough for me to know, my gentlemen," he said.
+"Who takes the man Bertrade de Montfort loves must take Philip of France
+as well."
+
+Norman of Torn laid his left hand upon the other's shoulder.
+
+"No, thou must not do this thing, my friend," he said. "It be my fight
+and I will fight it alone. Go, I beg of thee, and take her with thee,
+out of harm's way."
+
+As they argued, Simon de Montfort and the King had spoken together, and,
+at a word from the former, the soldiers rushed suddenly to the attack
+again. It was a cowardly strategem, for they knew that the two could
+not fight with the girl between them and their adversaries. And thus,
+by weight of numbers, they took Bertrade de Montfort and the Prince away
+from Norman of Torn without a blow being struck, and then the little,
+grim, gray, old man stepped forward.
+
+"There be but one sword in all England, nay in all the world that can,
+alone, take Norman of Torn," he said, addressing the King, "and that
+sword be mine. Keep thy cattle back, out of my way." And, without
+waiting for a reply, the grim, gray man sprang in to engage him whom for
+twenty years he had called son.
+
+Norman of Torn came out of his corner to meet his new-found enemy, and
+there, in the apartment of the Queen of England in the castle of Battel,
+was fought such a duel as no man there had ever seen before, nor is it
+credible that its like was ever fought before or since.
+
+The world's two greatest swordsmen: teacher and pupil--the one with the
+strength of a young bull, the other with the cunning of an old gray fox,
+and both with a lifetime of training behind them, and the lust of blood
+and hate before them--thrust and parried and cut until those that gazed
+awestricken upon the marvellous swordplay scarcely breathed in the
+tensity of their wonder.
+
+Back and forth about the room they moved, while those who had come to
+kill pressed back to make room for the contestants. Now was the young
+man forcing his older foeman more and more upon the defensive. Slowly,
+but as sure as death, he was winning ever nearer and nearer to victory.
+The old man saw it too. He had devoted years of his life to training
+that mighty sword arm that it might deal out death to others, and
+now--ah! The grim justice of the retribution he, at last, was to fall
+before its diabolical cunning.
+
+He could not win in fair fight against Norman of Torn; that the wily
+Frenchman saw; but now that death was so close upon him that he felt its
+cold breath condensing on his brow, he had no stomach to die, and so he
+cast about for any means whereby he might escape the result of his rash
+venture.
+
+Presently he saw his opportunity. Norman of Torn stood beside the body
+of one of his earlier antagonists. Slowly the old man worked around
+until the body lay directly behind the outlaw, and then with a final
+rally and one great last burst of supreme swordsmanship, he rushed
+Norman of Torn back for a bare step--it was enough. The outlaw's foot
+struck the prostrate corpse; he staggered, and for one brief instant his
+sword arm rose, ever so little, as he strove to retain his equilibrium;
+but that little was enough. It was what the gray old snake had expected,
+and he was ready. Like lightning, his sword shot through the opening,
+and, for the first time in his life of continual combat and death,
+Norman of Torn felt cold steel tear his flesh. But ere he fell, his
+sword responded to the last fierce command of that iron will, and as his
+body sank limply to the floor, rolling with outstretched arms, upon its
+back, the little, grim, gray man went down also, clutching frantically
+at a gleaming blade buried in his chest.
+
+For an instant, the watchers stood as though petrified, and then
+Bertrade de Montfort, tearing herself from the restraining hand of her
+father, rushed to the side of the lifeless body of the man she loved.
+Kneeling there beside him she called his name aloud, as she unlaced
+his helm. Tearing the steel headgear from him, she caressed his face,
+kissing the white forehead and the still lips.
+
+"Oh God! Oh God!" she murmured. "Why hast thou taken him? Outlaw though
+he was, in his little finger was more of honor, of chivalry, of true
+manhood than courses through the veins of all the nobles of England.
+
+"I do not wonder that he preyed upon you," she cried, turning upon the
+knights behind her. "His life was clean, thine be rotten; he was loyal
+to his friends and to the downtrodden, ye be traitors at heart, all; and
+ever be ye trampling upon those who be down that they may sink deeper
+into the mud. Mon Dieu! How I hate you," she finished. And as she spoke
+the words, Bertrade de Montfort looked straight into the eyes of her
+father.
+
+The old Earl turned his head, for at heart he was a brave, broad, kindly
+man, and he regretted what he had done in the haste and heat of anger.
+
+"Come, child," said the King, "thou art distraught; thou sayest what
+thou mean not. The world is better that this man be dead. He was an
+enemy of organized society, he preyed ever upon his fellows. Life in
+England will be safer after this day. Do not weep over the clay of a
+nameless adventurer who knew not his own father."
+
+Someone had lifted the little, grim, gray, old man to a sitting posture.
+He was not dead. Occasionally he coughed, and when he did, his frame was
+racked with suffering, and blood flowed from his mouth and nostrils.
+
+At last they saw that he was trying to speak. Weakly he motioned toward
+the King. Henry came toward him.
+
+"Thou hast won thy sovereign's gratitude, my man," said the King,
+kindly. "What be thy name?"
+
+The old fellow tried to speak, but the effort brought on another
+paroxysm of coughing. At last he managed to whisper.
+
+"Look--at--me. Dost thou--not--remember me?
+The--foils--the--blow--twenty-long-years. Thou--spat--upon--me."
+
+Henry knelt and peered into the dying face.
+
+"De Vac!" he exclaimed.
+
+The old man nodded. Then he pointed to where lay Norman of Torn.
+
+"Outlaw--highwayman--scourge--of--England. Look--upon--his--face.
+Open--his tunic--left--breast."
+
+He stopped from very weakness, and then in another moment, with a final
+effort: "De--Vac's--revenge. God--damn--the--English," and slipped
+forward upon the rushes, dead.
+
+The King had heard, and De Montfort and the Queen. They stood looking
+into each other's eyes with a strange fixity, for what seemed an
+eternity, before any dared to move; and then, as though they feared what
+they should see, they bent over the form of the Outlaw of Torn for the
+first time.
+
+The Queen gave a little cry as she saw the still, quiet face turned up
+to hers.
+
+"Edward!" she whispered.
+
+"Not Edward, Madame," said De Montfort, "but--"
+
+The King knelt beside the still form, across the breast of which lay the
+unconscious body of Bertrade de Montfort. Gently, he lifted her to the
+waiting arms of Philip of France, and then the King, with his own hands,
+tore off the shirt of mail, and with trembling fingers ripped wide the
+tunic where it covered the left breast of the Devil of Torn.
+
+"Oh God!" he cried, and buried his head in his arms.
+
+The Queen had seen also, and with a little moan she sank beside the body
+of her second born, crying out:
+
+"Oh Richard, my boy, my boy!" And as she bent still lower to kiss the
+lily mark upon the left breast of the son she had not seen to know for
+over twenty years, she paused, and with frantic haste she pressed her
+ear to his breast.
+
+"He lives!" she almost shrieked. "Quick, Henry, our son lives!"
+
+Bertrade de Montfort had regained consciousness almost before Philip of
+France had raised her from the floor, and she stood now, leaning on
+his arm, watching with wide, questioning eyes the strange scene being
+enacted at her feet.
+
+Slowly, the lids of Norman of Torn lifted with returning consciousness.
+Before him, on her knees in the blood spattered rushes of the floor,
+knelt Eleanor, Queen of England, alternately chafing and kissing his
+hands.
+
+A sore wound indeed to have brought on such a wild delirium, thought the
+Outlaw of Torn.
+
+He felt his body, in a half sitting, half reclining position, resting
+against one who knelt behind him, and as he lifted his head to see whom
+it might be supporting him, he looked into the eyes of the King, upon
+whose breast his head rested.
+
+Strange vagaries of a disordered brain! Yes it must have been a very
+terrible wound that the little old man of Torn had given him; but why
+could he not dream that Bertrade de Montfort held him? And then his eyes
+wandered about among the throng of ladies, nobles and soldiers standing
+uncovered and with bowed heads about him. Presently he found her.
+
+"Bertrade!" he whispered.
+
+The girl came and knelt beside him, opposite the Queen.
+
+"Bertrade, tell me thou art real; that thou at least be no dream."
+
+"I be very real, dear heart," she answered, "and these others be real,
+also. When thou art stronger, thou shalt understand the strange thing
+that has happened. These who wert thine enemies, Norman of Torn, be thy
+best friends now--that thou should know, so that thou may rest in peace
+until thou be better."
+
+He groped for her hand, and, finding it, closed his eyes with a faint
+sigh.
+
+They bore him to a cot in an apartment next the Queen's, and all that
+night the mother and the promised wife of the Outlaw of Torn sat bathing
+his fevered forehead. The King's chirurgeon was there also, while the
+King and De Montfort paced the corridor without.
+
+And it is ever thus; whether in hovel or palace; in the days of Moses,
+or in the days that be ours; the lamb that has been lost and is found
+again be always the best beloved.
+
+Toward morning, Norman of Torn fell into a quiet and natural sleep;
+the fever and delirium had succumbed before his perfect health and
+iron constitution. The chirurgeon turned to the Queen and Bertrade de
+Montfort.
+
+"You had best retire, ladies," he said, "and rest. The Prince will
+live."
+
+Late that afternoon he awoke, and no amount of persuasion or commands on
+the part of the King's chirurgeon could restrain him from arising.
+
+"I beseech thee to lie quiet, My Lord Prince," urged the chirurgeon.
+
+"Why call thou me prince?" asked Norman of Torn.
+
+"There be one without whose right it be to explain that to thee,"
+replied the chirurgeon, "and when thou be clothed, if rise thou wilt,
+thou mayst see her, My Lord."
+
+The chirurgeon aided him to dress and, opening the door, he spoke to a
+sentry who stood just without. The sentry transmitted the message to a
+young squire who was waiting there, and presently the door was thrown
+open again from without, and a voice announced:
+
+"Her Majesty, the Queen!"
+
+Norman of Torn looked up in unfeigned surprise, and then there came back
+to him the scene in the Queen's apartment the night before. It was all a
+sore perplexity to him; he could not fathom it, nor did he attempt to.
+
+And now, as in a dream, he saw the Queen of England coming toward him
+across the small room, her arms outstretched; her beautiful face radiant
+with happiness and love.
+
+"Richard, my son!" exclaimed Eleanor, coming to him and taking his face
+in her hands and kissing him.
+
+"Madame!" exclaimed the surprised man. "Be all the world gone crazy?"
+
+And then she told him the strange story of the little lost prince of
+England.
+
+When she had finished, he knelt at her feet, taking her hand in his and
+raising it to his lips.
+
+"I did not know, Madame," he said, "or never would my sword have been
+bared in other service than thine. If thou canst forgive me, Madame,
+never can I forgive myself."
+
+"Take it not so hard, my son," said Eleanor of England. "It be no fault
+of thine, and there be nothing to forgive; only happiness and rejoicing
+should we feel, now that thou be found again."
+
+"Forgiveness!" said a man's voice behind them. "Forsooth, it be we
+that should ask forgiveness; hunting down our own son with swords and
+halters.
+
+"Any but a fool might have known that it was no base-born knave who sent
+the King's army back, naked, to the King, and rammed the King's message
+down his messenger's throat.
+
+"By all the saints, Richard, thou be every inch a King's son, an' though
+we made sour faces at the time, we be all the prouder of thee now."
+
+The Queen and the outlaw had turned at the first words to see the King
+standing behind them, and now Norman of Torn rose, half smiling, and
+greeted his father.
+
+"They be sorry jokes, Sire," he said. "Methinks it had been better had
+Richard remained lost. It will do the honor of the Plantagenets but
+little good to acknowledge the Outlaw of Torn as a prince of the blood."
+
+But they would not have it so, and it remained for a later King of
+England to wipe the great name from the pages of history--perhaps a
+jealous king.
+
+Presently the King and Queen, adding their pleas to those of the
+chirurgeon, prevailed upon him to lie down once more, and when he had
+done so they left him, that he might sleep again; but no sooner had the
+door closed behind them than he arose and left the apartment by another
+exit.
+
+It was by chance that, in a deep set window, he found her for whom he
+was searching. She sat looking wistfully into space, an expression half
+sad upon her beautiful face. She did not see him as he approached, and
+he stood there for several moments watching her dear profile, and the
+rising and falling of her bosom over that true and loyal heart that
+had beaten so proudly against all the power of a mighty throne for the
+despised Outlaw of Torn.
+
+He did not speak, but presently that strange, subtle sixth sense which
+warns us that we are not alone, though our eyes see not nor our ears
+hear, caused her to turn.
+
+With a little cry she arose, and then, curtsying low after the manner of
+the court, said:
+
+"What would My Lord Richard, Prince of England, of his poor subject?"
+And then, more gravely, "My Lord, I have been raised at court, and I
+understand that a prince does not wed rashly, and so let us forget what
+passed between Bertrade de Montfort and Norman of Torn."
+
+"Prince Richard of England will in no wise disturb royal precedents," he
+replied, "for he will wed not rashly, but most wisely, since he will wed
+none but Bertrade de Montfort." And he who had been the Outlaw of Torn
+took the fair young girl in his arms, adding: "If she still loves me,
+now that I be a prince?"
+
+She put her arms about his neck, and drew his cheek down close to hers.
+
+"It was not the outlaw that I loved, Richard, nor be it the prince I
+love now; it be all the same to me, prince or highwayman--it be thee I
+love, dear heart--just thee."
+
+
+*****
+
+
+The following changes have been made:
+
+     PAGE  LINE  ORIGINAL     CHANGED TO
+       17    17  merks        marks
+       554   ertswhile        erstwhile
+       591   so so            do so
+       90    26  beats        beasts
+       934   presntly         presently
+      124    20  rescurer     rescuer
+      171    27  walls."      walls.
+      1843   gnetlemen        gentlemen
+      185    20  fored,       formed,
+      1866   to forces        the forces
+      195    19  those father whose father
+      2172   precipitably     precipitately
+      2175   litle            little
+      221    30  Monfort      Montfort
+      230    30  Montforth    Montfort
+      245    15  muderer's    murderer's
+
+
+
+
+
+
+The only changes that have been made to this text by Publisher's Choice
+Books and its General Manager/Editor have been the removal of all
+word-breaking hyphenation, and the occasional addition of a comma to
+separate certain phrases. These changes were effected merely to increase
+the Reader's reading ease and enjoyment of the text.
+
+The following spelling changes were effected within the text for reasons
+of clarity:
+
+"chid" to "chide" "sword play" to "swordplay" "subtile" to "subtle"
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Outlaw of Torn, by Edgar Rice Burroughs
+
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