第 11 页

chosen chiefly because no sentry was placed on that part of the

wall, the watch generally being careless, as Normandy was at present

at peace with its neighbours. When they reached the top of the steps

they listened for a short time, but everything was silent. Then

they stepped out on to the narrow pathway along the battlements,

fastened one end of the rope round a piece of stonework and let the

other end drop down into the fosse.

"Shall we both go down together, the rope is strong enough?" Beorn

asked.

"It is strong enough, but we had better go separately, Beorn; we

are neither of us accustomed to climb ropes, and if the upper one

were to slip down too fast he might knock the other off the rope.

It makes no matter who goes first. I will if you like, only mind

if you hear a footstep approaching let yourself down at once whether

I am off the rope or not. Be sure and twist your legs tightly round

it, or it will run through your fingers."

Taking hold of the rope he at once swung himself over, and without

much difficulty reached the bottom in safety. He had scarcely done

so when Beorn came down beside him with a rush.

"What made you come down like that, you narrowly missed coming on

my head?"

"I believe I have cut my fingers to the bone," Beorn groaned; "I

feel as if I were holding a bar of hot iron. You had scarcely started

before I heard voices; they were evidently those of men going their

rounds, so I caught hold of the rope and swung myself off, but

before I got my legs fairly round the rope I began to slip, and

though I gripped it as hard as I could I could not stop myself, but

slid down like lightning."

"Hush!" Wulf whispered, "they are coming along above." The voices

came nearer until they sounded directly overhead Wulf knew that it

was very unlikely they would notice the rope in the dark, but he

felt much relieved as he heard them pass on. He waited until they

could no longer be heard.

"Now, Beorn, we can safely be off."

It was muddy at the bottom of the fosse, but not so deep as they

thought it would be, and they scrambled up the opposite side and

then struck across the country south. Presently they came upon a

road, which they followed, until after three hours' walking they

reached the Authie river, at a spot where the bank was broken down.

"This must be a ford, we had best try to wade across. Anyhow there

cannot be very many yards to swim, and we can both manage that."

They found that the bottom was pebbly, and that even in the middle

the water was not much above their waists.

"That is something done, at any rate," Beorn said. "Now which way

shall we go? This road we are on seems to lead south and we cannot

do better than follow it, the stars give us light enough, now that

our eyes are accustomed to the darkness."

"Yes, we can keep this road, which is no doubt that by which we

travelled before, as far as the village which I heard them call

Noyelle, then we shall have to strike off to the left, for that

place was not far from Abbeville, and shall have to follow the Somme

up some distance, unless we can find means of crossing it."

"I should think we had better leave the road before we get to the

village, so as to be well away from it. If any peasant were going

to work early and caught sight of us he would be sure to mention

it to any horseman who might come along searching for us. I noticed

that there were several woods on our right as we rode along."

"That would be the safest way, no doubt," Wulf agreed. "Fortunately

we can do without food for to-morrow"--for both had managed to get

some supper after they had finished in the hall,--"and having made

up my mind to escape to-night I hid away a large piece of bread

under my smock. We can manage very well on that."

Accordingly after an hour's walking they left the road and bore to

the south-west. But little of the land was cultivated, and they

were fortunate in not coming upon any woodland until light began

to break in the sky. Then they made their way to the nearest wood,

went in for some distance and then threw themselves down, and in a

few minutes were fast asleep. Accustomed to judge time by the

position of the sun, they saw when they awoke that it was already

past noon, and after eating a few mouthfuls of bread they continued

their journey. For the most part their course lay among woods, and

they did not venture across an open piece of country until after a

careful examination to see that no one was in sight.

Shortly after starting they caught sight of a village in the distance,

which they afterwards learned was St. Riguier, but with these

exceptions saw no human habitation. Late in the afternoon they came

down on the bank of the Somme. This was thickly covered with long

reeds and rushes, and among these they sat down and ate the rest

of their bread, confident that however vigilant the search they

would not be traced.

"This is a very different matter to the last crossing," Beorn said.

"This is a wide river, and I fear that I could not swim across it."

"Nor should I like to try. But fortunately there is no occasion for

us to trust to swimming; for we can pull up or break off a number

of these great rushes and make them into two bunches; these will

give us ample support for our passage."

"So they will, Wulf; I should never have thought of that."

Two large bundles were soon made, the reeds being tied together by

a tough climber that wreathed itself everywhere among them, and as

soon as it was quite dark they went down to the water's edge, and

found to their satisfaction that the reeds possessed ample buoyancy

for their purpose. Wading in they started swimming, resting their

chests on the reeds and striking out with their legs, and in a few

minutes were on the southern bank of the river.

"Now we must make to the east of south," Wulf said. "I should say

if we walk steadily all night we shall be beyond the territory of

this vile count. I hope before long we shall strike on some road

leading in the right direction, for if we get among the woods again

we shall be able to make no progress. But any road we may come upon

going at all in the right direction is likely to lead to Rouen."

"How far is it, do you think?"

"I have a very vague idea. The prior had a map of Normandy, and on

this he pointed out to me how the duchy had grown since William

came as a boy to be its duke. I can remember the general position

of the town, but not more than that. I should think from the Somme

to Rouen must be over seventy miles and less than a hundred, but

more closely than that I cannot guess."

They came upon no road before morning, but as the country was open

they made good progress, and when they lay down in a thicket as the

day was breaking they calculated that they must be nearly thirty

miles south of the Somme.

"I feel that I want sleep," Beorn said, "but still more that I want

food. If it is another sixty miles to Rouen I know not how we are

going to travel the distance fasting"

"No, we must get some food to morrow or rather to day, Beorn. We

have nothing of any value to offer for it. They searched us too

closely for anything to escape them. We dare not go into any town

or village until we are quite sure that we are beyond the count's

territories, but we might enter some solitary hut and pray for a

piece of bread for charity, or we can walk all day, by which time

we shall surely be well beyond the Count of Ponthieu's territory,

and could boldly go into a town. If we are seized, we can demand

to be sent to Rouen, saying we are bearers of an important message

to Duke William, and even if they do not send us straight on, they

would hardly keep us without food."

After sleeping for four or five hours they again started, and after

walking some miles came upon a herdsman's cottage The man was out,

and his wife looked with surprise at the two lads, whose garments,

though stained by sea water and travel, were evidently those of

youths of a class above the common. Beorn addressed her in her own

language, and told her that they were wayfarers who had lost their

road and were grievously in need of food. She at once invited them

to come in, and set before them some black bread and some cheese

made from goats' milk. They learned to their satisfaction that they

had long passed the limits of Ponthieu, and that Rouen was distant

about fifty miles.

"The road from Amiens lies five miles to the east," she said; "but

it would be shorter for you to keep due south, for it inclines in

that direction. You will strike it after seven miles' walking, and

after that you cannot miss your way."

After warmly thanking the woman for her hospitality the lads again

started, feeling greatly strengthened and refreshed by their meal;

but want of sleep told upon them, and when they got within sight

of the road they again lay down, and slept until the sun was setting.

Resuming their journey they followed the road, and before morning

crossed over a range of hills, and presently arrived at a small

hamlet close to which was a monastery. Towards this they directed

their steps, and seating themselves on the ground near the door,

waited until it was unbarred.

"You are early wayfarers, my sons," the monk who opened the gates

said as they went up, "and you seem to have travelled far."

"That have we, father, and are sorely in need of food."

The hospitality of the monasteries was unbounded, and the monk at

once led them into the kitchen, where bread, meat, and wine were

placed before them.

"Truly you were hungry," the monk said smilingly as he watched their

onslaught upon the joint.

"We were well-nigh starving, father. For two days we have had nought

to eat save a crust of bread we had brought with us, and some that

a shepherd's wife bestowed upon us out of charity, and we have

walked from near Hesdin."

"I do not ask out of curiosity, my sons," the monk said after a

pause, "and you know it is not our custom to question wayfarers who

come in to ask our hospitality; but it is strange to see two youths,

who by their dress and manner seem to belong to a superior station,

in so pitiable a state as you are, and wandering alone, as it would

seem, penniless through the country. I ask not your confidence, but

if you chose to give it maybe we might aid or advise you. Our prior

is a kindly man and very gentle with the faults of others."

"We are Saxons, father. We were wrecked four days since near St.

Valery, and are now bound on an errand of high importance to Duke

William, to whom it is urgent we should arrive as soon as possible.

We have run sore peril on the way, and have been stripped of our

money and valuables."

"Is your mission of importance to the duke as well as to yourselves?"

the monk asked gravely.

"It is of great importance to him. I am sure that he would consider

that any one who assisted us on our way had done him good service."

The monk look earnestly at them. "I will speak to the prior," he

said. He returned in a few minutes and bade them follow him.

The prior was a tall, gentle old man. "I have heard your story from

brother Gregory," he said, "and I wished to see you that I might

judge for myself whether so strange a tale, as that two shipwrecked

boys should have important business with our duke, could be believed,

before I did aught to help you forward. You look to me honest of

purpose and of gentle blood, and not, I am sure, belonging to the

class of wayfarer who will trump up any story for the purpose of

gaining alms. Whether your errand with the duke is of the importance

you deem it I cannot say, but if you give me your word that you

consider it an urgent matter, I will aid you to proceed at once."

"We do indeed consider it most urgent, father, and we are sure that

the duke will so regard it. We should not have walked well-nigh a

hundred miles in two days and nights, and that almost without food,

had we not deemed it so."

"Brother Gregory," the prior said, "bid lay-brother Philip at once

prepare three palfreys, and tell him he is to ride himself with

these two Saxon youths to Rouen. The distance is thirty miles," he

went on as the monk left the room. "It is not yet six o'clock, and

though our palfreys are not accustomed to travel at rapid speed,

you will be there this afternoon in time to have audience with the

duke."

The lads returned their warm thanks to the prior. "We would gladly

tell you the purport of our mission," Beorn said, "but we are only

the bearers of news, and the duke might be displeased did he know

that we had confided to any before it reached his own ear."

"I wish not to learn it, my son. It is sufficient for me that you

have a mission to our duke, and that I am possibly furthering his

interest by aiding you to reach him. But, in sooth, I am more moved

by the desire to aid two stranger youths, whom the sea and man alike

seem to have treated hardly. Is it long since you left England?"

"We have well-nigh lost account of time, father, so much has taken

place in a few days. 'Tis but a week since we were sailing along

the English coast with a large company in three ships, when a sudden

tempest arose, carried away our sail, blew us off the shore, and

then increasing in fury drove us before it until we were wrecked

on the coast of Ponthieu, near St. Valery. Since then we have been

prisoners, have escaped, and have journeyed here on foot."

"Truly a bad week's work for you," the prior said. "Were all your

ships wrecked?"

"No; our two consorts, being lighter and more easily rowed, regained

the land when we were blown off it."