Cnut immediately ordering four of his men to escort Dame Editha to the
wood with all speed, advanced with his men towards the walls. All had
strung their bows and placed their arrows on the ground in front of them
in readiness for instant use. Cnut himself, with two others carrying the
rope, advanced to the edge of the moat. None observed their doings, for
all within the castle were intent upon the proceedings there.
In the courtyard Sir Rudolph had taken his post, with the captain of the
mercenaries beside him, and the men-at-arms drawn up in order. He smiled
sardonically as Cuthbert entered.
"So, at last," he said, "this farce is drawing to an end. You are in my
power, and for the means which I have taken to capture you, I will
account to the prince. You are a traitor to him; you have attacked and
slaughtered many of my friends; you are an outlaw defying the law; and
for each of these offences your head is forfeited."
"I deny," Cuthbert said, standing before him, "your right to be my
judge. By my peers only can I be tried. As a knight of England and as
rightful lord of this castle, I demand to be brought before a jury of
my equals."
"I care nothing for rights or for juries," said Sir Rudolph. "I have the
royal order for your execution, and that order I shall put into effect,
although all the knights and barons in England objected."
Cuthbert looked round to observe the exact position in which he was
standing. He knew, of course, every foot of the castle, and saw that but
a short distance behind a single row of armed men was the staircase
leading to the battlements.
"False and perjured knight," he said, taking a step forward, "I may die;
but I would rather a thousand deaths than such a life as yours will be
when this deed is known in England. But I am not yet dead. For myself, I
could pardon you; but for the outrage to my mother--" and with a sudden
movement he struck Sir Rudolph in the face with all his strength, with
his mailed hand.
With the blood gushing from his nostrils, the knight fell backwards, and
Sir Cuthbert, with a bound, before the assembly could recover from their
astonishment at the deed, burst through the line of men-at-arms, and
sprang up the narrow staircase. A score of men-at-arms started in
pursuit; but Sir Cuthbert gained the battlements first, and without a
moment's hesitation sprang upon them and plunged forward, falling into
the moat fifty feet below. Here he would have perished miserably, for in
his heavy armour he was of course unable to swim a stroke, and his weight
took him at once into the mud of the moat. At its margin, however, Cnut
stood awaiting him, with one end of the rope in his hand. In an instant
he plunged in, and diving to the bottom, grasped Cuthbert by the body,
and twisted the rope round him. The two archers on the bank at once
hauled upon it, and in a minute Sir Cuthbert was dragged to the bank.
By this time a crowd of men-at-arms appeared upon the battlements. But as
they did so the archers opened a storm of arrows upon them, and quickly
compelled them to find shelter. Carried by Cnut and the men with him--for
he was insensible--Sir Cuthbert was quickly conveyed to the centre of the
outlaws, and these at once in a compact body began their retreat to the
wood. Cuthbert quickly recovered consciousness, and was soon able to
walk. As he did so, the gates of the castle were thrown open, and a crowd
of men-at-arms, consisting of the retainers of the castle and the
mercenaries of Prince John, sallied forth. So soon as Cuthbert was able
to move, the archers started at a brisk run, several of them carrying
Cuthbert's casque and sword, and others assisting him to hurry along. The
rear ranks turned as they ran and discharged flights of arrows at the
enemy, who, more heavily armed and weighted, gained but slowly upon them.
Had not Sir Rudolph been stunned by the blow dealt him by Cuthbert, he
would himself have headed the pursuit, and in that case the foresters
would have had to fight hard to make their retreat to their fastness. The
officer in command of the mercenaries, however, had no great stomach for
the matter. Men were hard to get, and Prince John would not have been
pleased to hear that a number of the men whom he had brought with such
expense from foreign parts had been killed in a petty fray. Therefore
after following for a short time he called them off, and the archers fell
back into the forest.
Here they found Dame Editha, and for three days she abode among them,
living in a small hut in the centre of the forest. Then she left, to take
up her abode, until the troubles were past, with some kin who lived in
the south of Gloucestershire.
Although the lady abbess had assured Cuthbert that the retreat of Lady
Margaret was not likely to be found out, he himself, knowing how great a
stake Sir Rudolph had in the matter, was still far from being easy. It
would not be difficult for the latter to learn through his agents that
the lady superior of the little convent near Hereford was of kin to her
of St. Anne's, and, close as a convent is, yet the gossiping of the
servants who go to market was certain to let out an affair so important
as the arrival of a young lady to reside under the charge of the
superior. Cuthbert was not mistaken as to the acuteness of his enemy. The
relationship between the two lady superiors was no secret, and after
having searched all the farmhouses and granges near the forest, and being
convinced that the lady abbess would have sent her charge rather to a
religious house than to that of a franklin, Sir Rudolph sought which of
those within the circuit of a few miles would be likely to be the one
selected. It was not long before he was enabled to fix upon that near
Hereford, and spies going to the spot soon found out from the
countrypeople that it was a matter of talk that a young lady of rank had
been admitted by the superior. Sir Rudolph hesitated whether to go
himself at the head of a strong body of men and openly to take her, or to
employ some sort of device. It was not that he himself feared the
anathema of the church; but he knew Prince John to be weak and
vacillating, at one time ready to defy the thunder of the pope, the next
cringing before the spiritual authority. He therefore determined to
employ some of his men to burst into the convent and carry off the
heiress, arranging that he himself, with some of his men-at-arms, should
come upon them in the road, and make a feigned rescue of her, so that, if
the lady superior laid her complaint before the pope's legate, he could
deny that he had any hand in the matter, and could even take credit for
having rescued her from the men who had profaned the convent. That his
story would be believed mattered but little. It would be impossible to
prove its falsity, and this was all that he cared for.
This course was followed out. Late one evening, the lady superior was
alarmed by a violent knocking at the door. In reply to questions asked
through the grill, the answer was given, "We are men of the forest, and
we are come to carry the Lady Margaret of Evesham off to a secure
hiding-place. The lord of Evesham has discovered her whereabouts, and
will be here shortly, and we would fain remove her before he arrives."
"From whom have you warrant?" the lady superior said. "I surrender her to
no one, save to the lady abbess of St. Anne's. But if you have a written
warrant from Sir Cuthbert, the rightful lord of Evesham, I will lay the
matter before the Lady Margaret, and will act as it may seem fit to her."
"We have no time for parleying," a rough voice said. "Throw open the gate
at once, or we will break it down."
"Ye be no outlaws," the lady superior said, "for the outlaws are men who
fear God and respect the church. Were ye what ye say, ye would be
provided with the warrants that I mention. I warn you, therefore, that if
you use force, you will be excommunicated, and placed under the ban of
the church."
The only answer was a thundering assault upon the gate, which soon
yielded to the blows. The sisters and novices ran shrieking through the
corridors at this rude uproar. The lady superior, however, stood calmly
awaiting the giving way of the gate.
"Where is the Lady Margaret?" the leader of the party, who were dressed
in rough garb, and had the seeming of a band of outlaws, demanded.
"I will say nothing," she said, "nor do I own that she is here."
"We will soon take means to find out," the man exclaimed. "Unless in five
minutes she is delivered to us, we will burn your place to the ground."
The lady abbess was insensible to the threat; but the men rushing in,
seized some sisters, who, terrified out of their wits by this irruption,
at once gave the information demanded, and the men made their way to the
cell where the Lady Margaret slept.
The girl had at once risen when the tumult commenced, doubting not in her
mind that this was another attempt upon the part of her enemy to carry
her off. When, therefore, she heard heavy footsteps approaching along the
gallery--having already hastily attired herself--she opened the door and
presented herself.
"If you seek the Lady Margaret of Evesham," she said calmly, "I am she.
Do not harm any of the sisters here. I am in your power, and will go with
you at once. But I beseech you add not to your other sins that of
violence against holy women."
The men, abashed by the calm dignity of this young girl, abstained from
laying hands upon her, but merely motioned to her to accompany them. Upon
their way they met the man who appeared to be their leader, and he, well
pleased that the affair was over, led the way to the courtyard.
"Farewell, my child," the abbess exclaimed. "God will deliver you from
the power of these wicked men. Trust in Him, and keep up your courage.
Wickedness will not be permitted to triumph upon the earth; and be
assured that the matter shall be brought to the ears of the pope's
legate, and of Prince John himself."
She could say no more, for the men closing round the weeping girl,
hurried her out from the convent. A litter awaited them without, and in
this the young lady was placed, and, borne upon the shoulders of four
stout men, she started at a fast pace, surrounded closely by the rest
of the band.
It was a dark night, and the girl could not see the direction in which
she was being taken; but she judged from the turn taken upon leaving the
convent, that it was towards Evesham. They had proceeded some miles, when
a trampling of horses was heard, and a body of armed men rode up. For a
moment Lady Margaret's heart gave a leap, for she thought that she had
been rescued by her friends. There was a loud and angry altercation, a
clashing of swords, and a sound of shouting and cries outside the litter.
Then it was placed roughly on the ground, and she heard the sound of the
footsteps of her first captors hurrying away. Then the horsemen closed
round the litter, and the leader dismounted.
"I am happy indeed, Lady Margaret," he said approaching the litter, "to
have been able to save you from the power of these villains. Fortunately,
word came to me that the outlaws in the forest were about to carry you
off, and that they would not hesitate even to desecrate the walls of the
convent. Assembling my men-at-arms, I at once rode to your rescue, and am
doubly happy to have saved you, first, as a gentleman, secondly, as being
the man to whom our gracious prince has assigned you as a wife. I am Sir
Rudolph, Earl of Evesham."
As from the first the girl had been convinced that she had fallen into
the power of her lawless suitor, this came upon her as no surprise.
"Whether your story is true, Sir Rudolph," she said, "or not, God knows,
and I, a poor weak girl, will not pretend to venture to say. It is
between you and your conscience. If, as you say, you have saved me from
the power of the outlaws, I demand that, as a knight and a gentleman, you
return with me at once to the convent from which I was taken by force."
"I cannot do that," Sir Rudolph said. "Fortune has placed you in my
hands, and has enabled me to carry out the commands of the prince.
Therefore, though I would fain yield to your wishes and so earn your
goodwill, which above all things I wish to obtain, yet my duty towards
the prince commands me to utilize the advantage which fate has thrown in
my hands."
"You must do as you will, Sir Rudolph," the girl said with dignity. "I
believe not your tale. You sought before, in person, to carry me off, but
failed, and you have now employed other means to do so. The tale of your
conduct to Dame Editha has reached my ears, and I hold you a foresworn
knight and a dishonoured man, and as such I would rather die than become
your wife, although as yet I am but a child, and have no need to talk of
weddings for years to come."
"We need not parley here," the knight said coldly. "We shall have plenty
of time when at my castle."
The litter was now lifted, placed between two horses, and proceeded
rapidly on its journey. Although the hope was but faint, yet until the
gates of the castle closed upon them the Lady Margaret still hoped that
rescue might reach her. But the secret had been too well kept, and it was
not until the following day that the man who had been placed in a cottage
near the convent arrived in all haste in the forest, to say that it was
only in the morning that he had learnt that the convent had been broken
open by men disguised as archers, and the Lady Margaret carried off.
Four days elapsed before Sir Rudolph presented himself before the girl
he had captured. So fearfully was his face bruised and disfigured by the
blow from the mailed hand of Cuthbert three weeks before, that he did not
wish to appear before her under such unfavourable circumstances, and the