第 25 页

completely exhausted, and could only mutter a word of thanks through his

closed visor. At a short distance off a number of the wolves were

gathered, rending and tearing the horse of the knight; but the rest soon

recovering from their surprise, attacked with fury the little party. The

thick cloaks of the archers stood them in good stead against the animals'

teeth, and standing in a group with their backs to the rock, they hewed

and cut vigorously at their assailants. The numbers of these, however,

appeared almost innumerable, and fresh stragglers continued to come along

the road, and swell their body. As fast as those in front fell, their

heads cleft with the axes of the party, fresh ones sprang forward; and

Cuthbert saw that in spite of the valour and strength of his men, the

situation was well nigh desperate. He himself had been saved from injury

by his harness, for he still had on his greaves and leg pieces.

"Keep together," he shouted to his men, "and each lend aid to the other

if he sees him pulled down. Strike lustily for life, and hurry not your

blows, but let each tell." This latter order he gave perceiving that some

of the archers, terrified by this furious army of assailants with gaping

mouths and glistening teeth, were striking wildly, and losing their

presence of mind.

The combat, although it might have been prolonged, could yet have had

but one termination, and the whole party would have fallen. At this

moment, however, a gust-of wind, more furious than any which they had

before experienced, swept along the gorge, and the very wolves had to

crouch on their stomachs to prevent themselves being hurled by its fury

into the ravine below. Then even above the storm a deep roar was heard.

It grew louder and louder. The wolves, as if struck with terror, leaped

to their feet, and scattered on either way along the path at full speed.

"What sound can this be?" Cnut exclaimed in an awestruck voice. "It

sounds like thunder; but it is regular and unbroken; and, my lord, surely

the earth quakes under our feet!"

Louder and louder grew the roar.

"Throw yourselves down against the wall of rock," Cuthbert shouted,

himself setting the example.

A moment afterwards, from above, a mighty mass of rock and snow poured

over like a cascade, with a roar and sound which nigh stunned them. For

minutes--it seemed for hours to them--the deluge of snow and rock

continued. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, it ceased, and a silence as

of death reigned over the place.

"Arise," Cuthbert said; "the danger, methinks, is past. It was what men

call an avalanche--a torrent of snow slipping down from the higher peaks.

We have had a narrow escape indeed."

By this time the knight whom they had rescued was able to speak, and

raising his visor, he returned his deepest thanks to those who had come

so opportunely to his aid.

"I was well nigh exhausted," he said, "and it was only my armour which

saved me from being torn to pieces. A score of them had hold of me; but,

fortunately, my mail was of Milan proof, and even the jaws and teeth of

these enormous beasts were unable to pierce it."

"The refuge is near at hand," Cuthbert said. "It is but a few yards

round yonder point. It is well that we heard your voice. I fear that your

horse has fallen a victim."

Assisting the knight, who, in spite of his armour, was sorely bruised

and exhausted, they made their way back to the refuge. Cnut and the

archers were all bleeding freely from various wounds inflicted upon them

in the struggle, breathless and exhausted from their exertions, and

thoroughly awe-struck by the tremendous phenomenon of which they had

been witnesses, and which they had only escaped from their good fortune

in happening to be in a place so formed that the force of the avalanche

had swept over their heads The whole of the road, with the exception of

a narrow piece four feet in width, had been carried away. Looking

upwards, they saw that the forest had been swept clear, not a tree

remaining in a wide track as far as they could see up the hill. The

great bowlders which had strewn the hill-side, and many of which were as

large as houses, had been swept away like straws before the rush of

snow, and for a moment they feared that the refuge had also been

carried away. Turning the corner, however, they saw to their delight

that the limits of the avalanche had not extended so far, the refuges,

as they afterwards learned, being so placed as to be sheltered by

overhanging cliffs from any catastrophe of this kind.

They found the guide upon his knees, muttering his prayers before a

cross, which he had formed of two sticks laid crosswise on the ground

before him; and he could scarce believe his eyes when they entered, so

certain had he considered it that they were lost. There were no longer

any signs of the wolves. The greater portion, indeed, of the pack had

been overwhelmed by the avalanche, and the rest, frightened and scared,

had fled to their fastnesses in the woods.

The knight now removed his helmet, and discovered a handsome yoking man

of some four-or-five-and-twenty years old.

"I am," he said, "Baron Ernest of Kornstein. To whom do I owe my life?"

"In spite of my red cross," Cuthbert said, "I am English. My name is Sir

Cuthbert, and I am Earl of Evesham. I am on my return from the Holy Land

with my followers; and as we are passing through countries where many of

the people are hostile to England, we have thought it as well for a time

to drop our nationality. But to you I do not hesitate to tell the truth."

"You do well," the young knight said, "for, truth to say, the people of

these parts bear but little love to your countrymen. You have saved my

life when I was in the sorest danger. I had given myself up for lost, for

even my armour could not have saved me long from these wretches; and my

sword and life are at your disposal. You are young indeed," he said,

looking with surprise at Cuthbert, who had now thrown back the hood of

his cloak, "to have gained the honour of knighthood. You scarce look

eighteen years of age, although, doubtless, you are older."

"I am scarce seventeen," Cuthbert said; "but I have had the good fortune

to attract the notice of King Richard, and to have received the

knighthood from his sword."

"None more worthy," said the young knight, "for although King Richard

may be fierce and proud, he is the worthiest knight in Christendom, and

resembles the heroes of romance rather than a Christian king."

"He is my lord and master," Cuthbert said, "and I love him beyond all

men, and would give my life for his. He is the kindest and best of

masters; and although it be true that he brooks no opposition, yet is it

only because his own bravery and eagerness render hateful to him the

indolence and cowardice of others."

They now took their seats round the fire. The archers, by the advice of

the guide, rubbed their wounds with snow, and then applied bandages to

them. The wallets were opened, and a hearty supper eaten; and all,

wrapping themselves in their fur cloaks, were soon asleep.

For four days the gale continued, keeping the party prisoners in the hut.

On the fifth, the force of the wind abated, and the snow ceased to fall.

They were forced to take the door off its hinges to open it, for the snow

had piled up so high that the chimney alone of the hut remained above its

surface. With great difficulty and labour they cleared a way out, and

then the guide again placing himself at their head, they proceeded on

their way. The air was still and cold, and the sky of a deep, dark blue,

which seemed even darker in contrast with the whiteness of the snow. At

times they had great difficulty in struggling through the deep drifts;

but for the most part the wind had swept the path clear. Where it was

deepest, the tops of the posts still showed above the snow, and enabled

the guide to direct their footsteps. They were, however, obliged to

travel slowly, and it was three days before they gained the village on

the northern slope of the mountains, having slept at refuges by the road.

"What are your plans?" the knight asked Sir Cuthbert that night, as they

sat by the fire of the hostelry. "I would warn you that the town which

you will first arrive at is specially hostile to your people, for the

baron, its master, is a relation of Conrad of Montferat, who is said to

have been killed by order of your king."

"It is false," Cuthbert said. "King Richard had appointed him King of

Jerusalem; and, though he liked him not, thought him the fittest of those

there to exercise sovereignty. He was the last man who would have had an

enemy assassinated; for so open is he of disposition, that he would have

fought hand to hand with the meanest soldier of his army, had he desired

to kill him."

"I doubt not that it is so, since you tell me," the knight said

courteously. "But the people here have taken that idea into their minds,

and it will be hard to disabuse them. You must therefore keep up your

disguise as a French knight while passing through this neighbourhood.

Another week's journeying, and you will reach the confines of Saxony, and

there you will, as you anticipate, be safe. But I would not answer for

your life were you discovered here to be of English birth. And now tell

me if there is aught that I can do for you. I will myself accompany you

into the town, and will introduce you as a French knight, so that no

suspicion is likely to lie upon you, and will, further, ride with you to

the borders of Saxony. I am well known, and trust that my company will

avert all suspicion from you. You have told me that your purse is

ill-supplied; you must suffer me to replenish it. One knight need not

fear to borrow of another; and I know that when you have returned to your

home, you will bestow the sum which I now give you upon some holy shrine

in my name, and thus settle matters between us."

Cuthbert without hesitation accepted the offer, and was well pleased at

finding his purse replenished, for its emptiness had caused him serious

trouble. Cuthbert's steed was led by one of the archers, and he himself

walked gaily alongside of Sir Ernest, followed by his retainers. Another

long day's march brought them down to Innsbruck, where they remained

quietly for a week. Then they journeyed on until they emerged from the

mountains, crossed the Bavarian frontier, and arrived at Fussen, a strong

city, with well-built walls and defences.

They at once proceeded to the principal hostelry, where the young baron

was well known, and where great interest was excited by the news of the

narrow escape which he had had from the attack of the wolves. A journey

across the Alps was in those days regarded as a very perilous enterprise

in the winter season, and the fact that he should have been rescued from

such a strait appeared almost miraculous. They stayed for two days

quietly in the city, Cuthbert declining the invitation of the young

noble to accompany him to the houses of his friends, as he did not wish

that any suspicion should be excited as to his nationality, and

preferred remaining quiet to having forced upon him the necessity of

making false statements. As to his followers, there was no fear of the

people among whom they mixed detecting that they were English. To the

Bavarian inhabitants, all languages, save their native German, were

alike unintelligible; and even had French been commonly spoken, the

dialects of that tongue, such as would naturally be spoken by archers

and men-at-arms, would have been as Greek to those accustomed only to

Norman French.

Upon the third day, however, an incident occurred which upset Cuthbert's

calculations, and nearly involved the whole party in ruin. The town was,

as the young baron had said, governed by a noble who was a near relation

of Conrad of Montferat, and who was the bitter enemy of the English. A

great fete had been given in honour of the marriage of his daughter, and

upon this day the young pair were to ride in triumph through the city.

Great preparations had been made; masques and pageants of various kinds

manufactured; and the whole townspeople, dressed in their holiday attire,

were gathered in the streets. Cuthbert had gone out, followed by his

little band of retainers, and taken their station to see the passing

show. First came a large body of knights and men-at-arms, with gay

banners and trappings. Then rode the bridegroom, with the bride carried

in a litter by his side. After this came several allegorical

representations. Among these was the figure of a knight bearing the arms

of Austria. Underneath his feet, on the car, lay a figure clad in a royal

robe, across whom was thrown a banner with the leopards of England. The

knight stood with his foot on this figure.

This representation of the dishonour of England at the hands of Austria

elicited great acclamations from the crowd. Cuthbert clenched his teeth

and grasped his sword angrily, but had the sense to see the folly of

taking any notice of the insult. Not so with Cnut. Furious at the insult

offered to the standard of his royal master, Cnut, with a bound, burst

through the ranks of the crowd, leaped on to the car, and with a buffet

smote the figure representing Austria, into the road, and lifted the flag

of England from the ground. A yell of indignation and rage was heard. The

infuriated crowd rushed forward. Cnut, with a bound, sprang from the car,

and, joining his comrades, burst through those who attempted to impede

them, and darted down a by-street.

Cuthbert, for the moment amazed at the action of his follower, had on the

instant drawn his sword and joined the archers. In the crowd, however, he

was for a second separated from them; and before he could tear himself

from the hands of the citizens who had seized him, the men-at-arms

accompanying the procession surrounded him, and he was led away by them