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diff --git a/old/369-0.txt b/old/369-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..524f0a3 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/369-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7741 @@ +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: March 14, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** 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 + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE OUTLAW OF TORN *** + +***** This file should be named 369-0.txt or 369-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/369/ + +Produced by Judith Boss + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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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 + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE OUTLAW OF TORN *** + +***** This file should be named 369.txt or 369.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/369/ + +Produced by Judith Boss + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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BRAY + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +HERE is a story that has lain dormant for seven hun- +dred 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, Si- +mon 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 demand- +ing 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 depart- +ing 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 sur- +coat 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 swords- +man, 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 sudden- +ness 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 like- +ness 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 Eng- +lishmen. 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 mor- +tal, 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 re- +venge. + +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 ser- +vice of John of England is not of this story. All the bear- +ing 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 em- +broidered 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 be- +neath 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 listen- +er 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 inter- +ference by them with the royal prerogative of the Plan- +tagenets 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 dis- +comfiture. 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 Eng- +lish. + + + + + +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 gar- +dener, into letting him have the key to the little postern +gate on the plea that he wished to indulge in a mid- +night 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. What- +ever 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 pleas- +ure 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 instru- +ments 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 un- +godly 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 cob- +webs 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 disturb- +ing 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 command- +ing 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 tak- +ing 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 flow- +ering plants, while here and there marble statues of +wood nymph and satyr gleamed, sparkling in the bril- +liant 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 be- +hind them. + +A great peacock strutted proudly across the walk be- +fore 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 flow- +ers, 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 De Vac 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 butter- +fly 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 rush- +ing 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, con- +trary 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 cham- +ber surrounded by the great lords and nobles who com- +posed 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 relin- +quished at any time for more than twenty years. + +The first theory, of assassination, was quickly aban- +doned 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 affec- +tion 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 noble- +man was divested of his authority in Gascony he suf- +fered 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, how- +ever, 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 unno- +ticed, 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 un- +dressed 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 voice- +less river. + +The Prince had by now regained some of his for- +mer assurance, and, finding that De Vac seemed not to +intend harming him, the little fellow commenced ques- +tioning his grim companion, his childish wonder at this +strange adventure getting the better of his former ap- +prehension. + +"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 sleep- +ing 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 consulta- +tion 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 with- +in 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 Leices- +ter 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 noise- +lessly 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 trap- +door 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 cur- +tained. 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 un- +ceiled; the whole bearing a most barnlike and unhos- +pitable appearance. + +In one corner was a huge bed, and across the room a +smaller cot; a cupboard, a table, and two benches com- +pleted the furnishings. These articles De Vac had pur- +chased 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 earthen- +ware 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, con- +vinced 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 perpe- +tration 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 con- +vulsively 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 Eng- +lish, 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--a--ha, 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, child- +ish head he seemed to remember a time when his life +and surroundings had been very different; when, in- +stead 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 conversa- +tion, 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 descend- +ants. 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 won- +drous 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 peev- +ishly. + +"One tower hath fallen, and the roof for half the +length of one wing hath sagged and tumbled in," ex- +plained 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 ar- +range 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 Lon- +don 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 man- +aged 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 expres- +sion 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 attest- +ing 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 Eng- +lishmen 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 eve- +ning 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 imagina- +tion 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 bung +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 wo- +man 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 in- +terior 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, swords- +manship 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 com- +menced 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 ex- +perience 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 wait- +ing 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 Eng- +land. + +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 after- +noon 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. Strik- +ing 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 far- +ther 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 or- +der, 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 re- +freshed, 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, not- +withstanding that the names he heard meant nothing +to him, it was like unto a fairy tale to hear of the won- +drous 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 trem- +bling, 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 Mont- +fort 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 hos- +tility to their continued extravagant waste of the na- +tional resources has again hardened them toward him." + +The old man, growing uneasy at the turn the con- +versation 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 leath- +ern 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 half way +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 materi- +al, 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 ad- +dressed 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 mak- +ing 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 be- +comes 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 dis- +comfiture of Paul of Merely, but the latter's face hard- +ened 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 humili- +ated 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 breath- +ing 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 pro- +truding 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 him- +self, was that the knowledge of the remarkable resem- +blance between his ward and Prince Edward of Eng- +land 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 an- +swer 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 six- +teen, 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 out- +skirts 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 it- +self. 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 docu- +ments were inscribed either in French or Latin, al- +though 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 immedi- +ately 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 con- +cealed 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 acknowl- +edge 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 sur- +prised 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 ruffi- +ans 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 prison- +ers, 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 subconscious- +ness 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 ap- +pealed 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 out- +law 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 responsi- +bility 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 wor- +shipped 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 sur- +rounded 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 reputa- +tion throughout all England, though no man had seen +his face and lived, other than his friends and followers. +He bad become a power to reckon with in the fast +culminating quarrel between King Henry and his for- +eign 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 tur- +moil 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, con- +cluding 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 Nor- +man 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 begin- +ning 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, mali- +cious 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 Nor- +man 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 bad 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 dimen- +sions within, some even attaining the area of small +triangular chambers. + +The moat, widened and deepened, completely en- +circled 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 di- +rected against a scaling party. + +The fourth side of the walled enclosure overhung a +high precipice, which natural protection rendered tow- +ers 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 fore- +ground only sparsely studded with an occasional gnarled +oak gave an unobstructed view of broad and lovely +meadow-land through which wound a sparkling tribu- +tary 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 but- +tressed 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 Nor- +man 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 for- +bidden 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 regu- +larly 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 pock- +ets. + +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 Der- +by 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, supersti- +tious 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 kneel- +ing 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, nath- +less, 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 shud- +der 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 Eng- +land 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 com- +mand, at the same time grasping roughly at her bridle +rein. The girl raised her riding whip and struck repeat- +edly but futilely against the iron headgear of her assail- +ant while he swung his horse up the road, and, drag- +ging 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 fugi- +tives 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 incredu- +lity 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 dis- +mounted 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 gain- +ing 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 fig- +ure, unconcealed by either bassinet or hauberk, re- +flected 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 in- +flicted 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 adver- +sary'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 direc- +tion 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 fel- +lows, 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 ap- +parel and the trappings of her palfrey, but as well in +her noble and haughty demeanor and the proud ex- +pression of her beautiful face. + +Although at this time nearly twenty years had passed +over the head of Norman of Torn he was without knowl- +edge 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, Nor- +man 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 pro- +tection. + +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 aston- +ishment. + +"What means it, lady?" he asked turning to the dam- +sel, who had made no move to escape. + +"It means that your face is well known in your fath- +er'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 foe- +man, 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 fore- +heads 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 Mont- +fort 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 com- +panionship 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 some- +thing 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 +over night. + +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 vari- +ous 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 fa- +vorites and buying alien soldiery to fight against his +own barons, instead of insuring the peace and protec- +tion 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 Stute- +vill. "Never in all the world was there such sword +play as I saw that day in the courtyard." + +"I, too, have seen some wonderful sword play," 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 chid 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 he 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 de- +parting 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 out 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 strong- +hold, notwithstanding its repellent exterior and un- +savory 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 lovable- +ness 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 re- +spects 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 mu- +tual 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 ruf- +fian. "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 tempta- +tions 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 tempta- +tion 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 se- +lected 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 adven- +ture is of a nature in line with thy puerile and effemi- +nate 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, eye- +ing 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 sword play +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 through- +out this indictment, his face, somewhat pale, was drawn +into lines of malevolent hatred and rage, but he per- +mitted 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 be- +tween 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? Me- +thinks 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 sur- +prised 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 ene- +mies 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 hand- +some 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 gar- +dens 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 fath- +er'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 mas- +ter'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 open- +ly 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 en- +joying 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 com- +panion 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 court- +yard." + +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 oppor- +tunity 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 of- +fered 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 threat- +ening. 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 obedi- +ence 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 driz- +zle 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 in- +creased 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 shad- +ows of which the road wound. There was a glint of +armor among the drenched foliage, but the rain-buf- +feted 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 them- +selves, 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 disap- +peared 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 con- +firmed 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 hope- +lessness. + +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 conver- +sation, 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, un- +glazed 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 flicker- +ing light from a small wood fire upon one of the two +great hearths seemed rather to accentuate the dim shad- +ows of the place. + +Bertrade crossed the room and leaned against a mas- +sive 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 ap- +plause 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 inter- +spread 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 en- +counter 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 en- +tered, 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 beau- +teous 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 ac- +cept 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 daugh- +ter." 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 suc- +cor might come from some source. But her most subtle +wiles proved ineffectual in ridding her, even for a mo- +ment, of her harpy jailer; and now that the final sum- +mons 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 quick- +ly 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 ad- +mitted 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 fin- +gers, 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 Mont- +fort?" 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 co- +ward; 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 daugh- +ter 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 Stute- +vill, Norman of Torn was busy with his wild horde in +reducing and sacking the castle of John de Grey, a royal- +ist baron who had captured and hanged two of the out- +law's fighting men; and never again after his meeting +with the daughter of the chief of the barons did Nor- +man of Torn raise a hand against the rebels or their +friends. + +Shortly after his return to Torn, following the success- +ful 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," re- +plied 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 sus- +picion, 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 un- +sheath 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 + + + +THE OUTLAW OF TORN + +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 fal- +len 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 cov- +ered with gray leather and in the upper right hand +corner of each was the black falcon's wing. The sur- +coats of the riders were also uniform, being of dark +gray villosa faced with black wolf skin, so that notwith- +standing the richness of the armor and the horse trap- +pings 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 admis- +sion 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 func- +tions 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 bat- +tles at the taking of some feudal castle; in which they +did not always come off unscathed, though usually vic- +torious. + +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 morn- +ing 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 fright- +ened 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 Nor- +man 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 draw- +bridge 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 ante- +chamber 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 es- +cape; but the girl had divined his intentions, and run- +ning 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 Mont- +fort stood spell-bound by the exhibition of swordsman- +ship 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. Sud- +denly 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, un- +able 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 mov- +ing boldly about the room. Soon he had found another +lamp and made a light. As its feeble rays slowly pene- +trated 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 sword play 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 Mont- +fort, 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 sub- +terranean 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 es- +caped. + +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 hor- +rible 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 Ber- +trade 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 south- +ward 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 fol- +lowers 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 man- +ner 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 dis- +mounted 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 Eng- +land," 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 rec- +ognized. 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 ras- +cal offered you harm or indignity?" + +"You craven liar," cried Henry de Montfort, "but yes- +terday 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 pro- +tect 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 ren- +dered 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 back- +ward 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 ene- +mies 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 daugh- +ter 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 Col- +fax, 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 re- +ceive 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 chid 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 Rog- +er 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 never- +theless, 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 through- +out 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 Ber- +trade 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 im- +perceptible 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 great- +ness and the purity of my love for you plead in extenu- +ation 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 an- +other 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 Eng- +land, 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 contem- +plate 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 Mont- +fort. + +"Take this, Roger de Conde," she whispered, drop- +ping 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 intoxi- +cation 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 near- +ness 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 Ed- +ward 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 addi- +tion, 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 be- +neath 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 con- +cealed 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 Plantage- +net 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," re- +plied 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 with- +out 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. Be- +tween 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 listen- +er, the old man, scowling, cried: + +"What said I, sirrah? What didst hear?" + +"Naught, My Lord; thou didst but mutter incoher- +ently", replied the Spaniard. + +The old man eyed him closely. + +"An did I more, Spizo, thou heardst naught but mut- +tering, remember." + +"Yes, My Lord." + +An hour later the old man of Torn dismounted be- +fore 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 rea- +sons, 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 com- +panies of knights, followed by the catapult detachment; +then came the sumpter beasts. Horsan the Dane, +with his company, formed the rear guard. Three hun- +dred 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 assur- +ance 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, treach- +ery, 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 court- +yard. + +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 wel- +coming her friend's friend to the hospitality of her fath- +er's castle. + +"Are all your old friends and neighbors come after +you to Essex," cried Joan de Tany, laughingly, address- +ing 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 daugh- +ter 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 criti- +cally 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 intelli- +gence 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 compan- +ionship 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 har- +assing 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 imprison- +ment, and something worse, at the hands of the King's +supporters. + +And in the midst of these alarms it entered the will- +ful 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, "be- +tween 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 brusque- +ly, + +"Who be ye?" + +"A party on a peaceful mission to the shops of Lon- +don," 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 oppo- +nent'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 won- +drous sword play 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 con- +tempt 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 leap- +ing 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 with- +in 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 be- +fore 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 at- +tacked 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 for- +eigner 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, "ex- +cept 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 cap- +ture 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 com- +pany 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 daugh- +ter 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 turn- +coat 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 mas- +querades 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 dis- +tinctly 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 de- +tached 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 pound- +ing 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 an- +tagonist, 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 royal- +ist 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 howl- +ing 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 mold- +ing until she found a little hidden spring she pushed +it, and one of the great panels swung slowly in, reveal- +ing 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 apart- +ment. + +"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 forgive- +ness 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 con- +flicting 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 affec- +tion and kindly fellowship, of either men or women, +it is little to be wondered at that he was easily impres- +sionable and responsive to the feeling his strong per- +sonality 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 acquaint- +ance 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 acquain- +tance. + +"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 with- +out 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, laugh- +ing 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 shrub- +bery 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 out- +stretched toward the dangling form that swung and +twisted from the grim, gaunt arm. Her figure was +racked with choking sobs of horror-stricken grief. Pres- +ently she staggered to her feet and turned away, bury- +ing 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 in- +stant Norman of Torn had learned the difference be- +tween 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 under- +stand 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 enor- +mous, 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 con- +tinued 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 prison- +ers. + +"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 Stute- +vill 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 be- +fore 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 un- +tenanted 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 Bucking- +ham." + +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 inter- +rupted." + +Following a moment or two after Shandy came an- +other 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 over- +come 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 fascina- +tion 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 be- +hind 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 wel- +comed 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 con- +course 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 won- +der 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 Nor- +man 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 per- +formed, 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 gentle- +man 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 Shan- +dy 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 satisfac- +tion. + +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 to- +morrow." + +"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 un- +seen 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, with- +out escort. + +Instantly the call "to arms" and "mount" sounded +through the camp; and in five minutes a hundred mer- +cenaries 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 Nor- +man 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 Out- +law 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, Nor- +man 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 be- +spoke 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 be- +cause 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 lone- +liness 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 Out- +law of Torn must expect from any good woman of her +class; what he must expect from Bertrade de Mont- +fort when she learned that Roger de Conde was Nor- +man of Torn. + +The outlaw had scarce passed out of sight upon the +road to Derby ere the girl, who still stood in an em- +brasure 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 in- +tuitively 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 mis- +sion. + +"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 him- +self 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 out- +side 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, press- +ing 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 inex- +orable 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 al- +liance 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 Nor- +man of Torn. + +"Couldst thou but have seen him fight, my mother, +and witnessed the honor of his treatment of thy daugh- +ter, 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 gentle- +man 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 cer- +tain 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 fun- +eral, 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 strange- +ness of the act. + +As the horde of Torn approached their Derby strong- +hold 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 sor- +row and death follow in my footsteps. I and all my +acts be accurst, and upon those I love the blight fall- +eth." + +"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 thou- +sand others, each with a special hatred for some particu- +lar 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 argu- +ment between friends," replied the priest, "and fur- +ther, 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 con- +tinued to occupy himself with occasional pillages against +the royalists of the surrounding counties, and his pa- +trols 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 sym- +pathized 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 enter- +tained 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 cap- +tains 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 ex- +pecting 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 mes- +sage 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 ven- +geance, 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 messen- +ger 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 Nor- +man 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 king- +dom-- + +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 mes- +sage 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 +his head a more civil tongue. + +When, two days later, he appeared before the King +at Winchelsea and reported the outcome of his mis- +sion 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 com- +ing 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 impor- +tant 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, en- +tered 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 court- +yard 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 rat- +tle 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 bowlders +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 court- +yard. + +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 appoint- +ment you had with him must therefore be deferred un- +til 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 melan- +choly 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 Eng- +land, and possibly Prince Richard also." + +A search of the cottage revealed the fact that it had +been ransacked thoroughly by the assassin. The con- +tents 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, point- +ing to the open hearth upon which lay the charred re- +mains of many papers and documents. "All written evi- +dence has been destroyed, but hold what lieth here +beneath the table?" and, stooping, the Earl of Lei- +cester 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 ac- +complishment 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 Mont- +fort, "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 con- +tinued. "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 bad 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, un- +observed. + +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 oc- +cupied that branch of the hill which descended a gen- +tle, 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 Bo- +hun. The reserves were under Simon de Montfort him- +self. + +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 gor- +geous and impressive spectacle as he hurled himself +upon the Londoners, whom he had selected for at- +tack 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 through- +out 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 de- +feating 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 re- +covered 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 im- +portant 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 as- +sured victory for King Henry. + +Both De Montfort and the King had thrown them- +selves into the melee with all their reserves; no longer +was there semblance of organization. Division was in- +extricably 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 bar- +est 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 out- +law 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 noble- +woman, preparing to become a princess of France, +does not have much thought to waste upon highway- +men." 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 morn- +ing, when they started east, toward Dover. + +They marched until late the following evening, pass- +ing some twenty miles out of their way to visit a cer- +tain 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 over- +took a party of deserting royalist soldiery, and from +them he easily, by dint of threats, elicited the informa- +tion 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 Ley- +bourn. This time the outlaw threw his fierce horde +completely around the embattled pile, before he ad- +vanced 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 lad- +der 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 corri- +dors 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 out- +laws 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 out- +law, 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 fear- +ful apparition of a man. With livid face he stood, lean- +ing 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 grim- +ace 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 fal- +setto: + +"Seize him! Kill him! Set your men upon him! +Do you wish to live another moment draw and de- +fend 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 pre- +fer to take my great and good friend, Peter of Col- +fax, 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 Col- +fax, 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 out- +law, "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 de- +fend himself; and as the fumes circulated through him, +and the primal instinct of self-preservation asserted it- +self, 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 sword play 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 let- +ters 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 loath- +some 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 oc- +casion 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 Col- +fax, 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 fight- +ing, so Norman of Torn went into camp that night; nor +did he again take up his march until the second morn- +ing, three days after the battle of Lewes. + +He bent his direction toward the north and Leices- +ter'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 wait- +ing 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 dis- +tinction; 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 safe- +ly." + +"It is kind of you, Sir Knight, a kindness that I will +not forget. But, again, who is it that shows this solici- +tude for Philip of France?" + +"Norman of Torn, they call me," replied the outlaw. + +"Indeed!" cried Philip. "The great and bloody out- +law?" 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 parch- +ment, 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 mes- +senger 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 thought- +ful chivalry, nay, almost tenderness, on the long night +ride to Leicester. + +What a strange contradiction of a man! She won- +dered 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 un- +armed 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 Mont- +fort, "be it not time that England were rid of this +devil's spawn and his hellish brood? Though I pre- +sume," 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," re- +plied 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 wind- +ing 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 ante- +chamber 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 Nor- +man 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 out- +law'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 Nor- +man 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 for- +giveness 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, grati- +tude for the chivalry which twice had saved her honor, +hatred for the murderer of a hundred friends and kins- +men, 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 thou- +sand 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 over +wrought nerves turned his poor head? Was he dream- +ing this thing, only to awaken to the cold and awful +truth! + +But these warm arms about his neck, the sweet per- +fume 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 Nor- +man, 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 foot- +steps. 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 Nor- +man 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 door- +way 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, listen- +ing to all that passed between Bertrade de Montfort +and Norman of Torn. + +As he heard the proud daughter of Simon de Mont- +fort 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 Lei- +cester too may have his whole proud heart in the hang- +ing 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 pas- +sageways 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 Nor- +man 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, stand- +ing 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, 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 Mont- +fort. + +"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 Mont- +fort 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 an- +tagonist. + +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 ad- +versaries. And thus, by weight of numbers, they took +Bertrade de Montfort and the Prince away from Nor- +man 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 mar- +vellous sword play 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 es- +cape 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 equili- +brium; 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 Eng- +land will be safer after this day. Do not weep over +the clay of a nameless adventurer who knew not his +own father." + +Some one 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 Mont- +fort. 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 al- +most 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 re- +turning 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 posi- +tion, 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 prom- +ised 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 suc- +cumbed 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 Eng- +land coming toward him across the small room, her +arms outstretched; her beautiful face radiant with hap- +piness 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 Eng- +land, "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. "For- +sooth, 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 acknowl- +edge 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 proud- +ly against all the power of a mighty throne for the +despised Outlaw of Torn. + +He did not speak, but presently that strange, subtile +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 Nor- +man 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." + + + +End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Outlaw of Torn +by Burroughs + + +I have made the following changes to the text: +PAGE LINE ORIGINAL CHANGED TO + 17 17 merks marks + 55 4 ertswhile erstwhile + 59 1 so so do so + 90 26 beats beasts + 93 4 presntly presently + 124 20 rescurer rescuer + 171 27 walls." walls. + 184 3 gnetlemen gentlemen + 185 20 fored, formed, + 186 6 to forces the forces + 195 19 those father whose father + 217 2 precipitably precipitately + 217 5 litle little + 221 30 Monfort Montfort + 230 30 Montforth Montfort + 245 15 muderer's murderer's + + diff --git a/old/otorn10.zip b/old/otorn10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8423e51 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/otorn10.zip diff --git a/old/otorn11.txt b/old/otorn11.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e3823b6 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/otorn11.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7441 @@ +The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Outlaw of Torn, by Burroughs +#10 in our Edgar Rice Burroughs Series [Tarzan, Mars, etc.] + +Please take a look at the important information in this header. +We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an +electronic path open for the next readers. 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If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Association / Illinois + Benedictine College" within the 60 days following each + date you prepare (or were legally required to prepare) + your annual (or equivalent periodic) tax return. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +The Project gratefully accepts contributions in money, time, +scanning machines, OCR software, public domain etexts, royalty +free copyright licenses, and every other sort of contribution +you can think of. Money should be paid to "Project Gutenberg +Association / Illinois Benedictine College". + +This "Small Print!" by Charles B. Kramer, Attorney +Internet (72600.2026@compuserve.com); TEL: (212-254-5093) +*END*THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* + + + + +EDGAR RICE BURROUGHS + +THE OUTLAW OF TORN + + + +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, DeFulm ! 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 bung 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 he 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 out 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 +man 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." + + + + + +End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Outlaw of Torn by Burroughs + + + + + +I have made the following changes to the text: +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 + diff --git a/old/otorn11.zip b/old/otorn11.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..83ef762 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/otorn11.zip |