第 9 页

Cnut near you; he is faithful as a watch-dog, and would give his life, I

am sure, for you. I will myself be also upon my guard, for it was after

all my quarrel, and the fury of this fierce knight will vent itself upon

both of us if the opportunity should come. I hear but a poor account of

him among his confreres. They say he is one of those disgraces to the

name of knight who are but a mixture of robber and soldier; that he

harries all the lands in his neighbourhood; and that he has now only

joined the Crusade to avoid the vengeance which the cries of the

oppressed people had invoked from his liege lord. I am told indeed that

the choice was given him to be outlawed, or to join the Crusades with

all the strength he could raise. Naturally he adopted the latter

alternative; but he has the instincts of the robber still, and will do us

an evil turn, if he have the chance."

Two days later the great army broke up its camp and marched south. After

a week's journeying they encamped near a town, and halted there two or

three days in order to collect provisions for the next advance; for the

supplies which they could obtain in the country districts were wholly

insufficient for so great a host of men. Here the armies were to

separate, the French marching to Genoa, the English to Marseilles, the

town at which they were to take ship.

One evening the earl sent Cuthbert with a message for another English

lord, staying in the town at the palace of the bishop, who was a friend

of his.

Cnut accompanied Cuthbert, for he now made a point of seldom letting him

out of his sight. It was light when they reached the bishop's palace, but

here they were delayed for some time, and night had fallen when they

sallied out.

The town was quiet, for the inhabitants cared not to show themselves in

the streets now that such a large army of fierce men were in the

neighbourhood.

The others indeed of the monarchs were stringent, but discipline there

was but little of, and the soldiery in those days regarded peaceful

citizens as fair game; hence, when they came from the palace the streets

of the city were already hushed and quiet, for the orders of the king had

been preemptory that no men-at-arms, or others except those on duty, were

to be away from their camp after nightfall.

This order had been absolutely necessary, so many were the complaints

brought in by country peasants and farmers, of the doings of bands of

soldiers.

Cnut and Cuthbert proceeded along the streets unmolested for some

distance. Occasionally a solitary passer-by, with hooded cape, hurried

past. The moon was half full, and her light was welcome indeed, for in

those days the streets were unlighted, and the pavement so bad that

passage through the streets after dark was a matter of difficulty, and

even of danger.

Here and there before some roadside shrine a lamp dimly burned; before

these they paused, and, as good Catholics, Cnut and Cuthbert crossed

themselves. Just as they had passed one of these wayside shrines, a

sudden shout was heard, and a party of eight or ten men sprang out from a

side street and fell upon them.

Cnut and Cuthbert drew their swords and laid about them heartily, but

their assailants were too strong. Cnut was stricken to the ground, and

Cuthbert, seeing that defence was hopeless, took to his heels and ran for

his life. He was already wounded, but happily not so severely as in any

way to disable him.

Seeing that it was speed, and speed alone, which now could save him, he

flung aside his belt scabbard and as he ran, and with rapid steps flew

along the streets, not knowing whither he went, and striving only to keep

ahead of his pursuers. They, more encumbered by arms and armour, were

unable to keep up with the flying footsteps of a lad clothed in the light

attire of a page; but Cuthbert felt that the blood running from his wound

was weakening him fast, and that unless he could gain some refuge his

course must speedily come to an end. Happily he saw at some little

distance ahead of him a man standing by a door. Just as he arrived the

door opened, and a glow of light from within fell on the road, showing

that the person entering was a monk.

Without a moment's hesitation Cuthbert rushed through the door, shouting

"Sanctuary!" and sank almost fainting on the ground.

The monks, accustomed to wild pursuits and scenes of outrage in those

warlike days, hastily closed the door, barring it securely. In a moment

there was a rush of men against it from without.

One of the monks opened a lattice above the door.

"What mean you," he said, "by this outrage? Know ye not that this is the

Monastery of St. John, and that it is sacrilege to lay a hand of violence

even against its postern? Begone," he said, "or we'll lodge a complaint

before the king."

The assailants, nothing daunted, continued to batter at the door; but at

this moment the monks, aroused from their beds, hastened to the spot, and

seizing bill and sword--for in those days even monks were obliged at

times to depend upon carnal weapons--they opened the door, and flung

themselves upon the assailants with such force that the latter, surprised

and discomfited, were forced to make a hasty retreat.

The doors were then again barred, and Cuthbert was carried up to a cell

in the building, where the leech of the monastery speedily examined his

wound, and pronounced, that although his life was not in danger by it, he

was greatly weakened by the loss of blood, that the wound was a serious

one, and that it would be some time before the patient would recover.

It was two days before Cuthbert was sufficiently restored to be able to

speak. His first question to the monk was as to his whereabouts, and how

long he had been there. Upon being answered, he entreated that a

messenger might be despatched to the camp of the Earl of Evesham, to beg

that a litter might be sent for him, and to inquire what had become of

Cnut, whom he had last seen stricken down.

The monk replied, "My son, I grieve to tell you that your request cannot

be complied with. The army moved away yesternoon, and is now some

five-and-twenty miles distant. There is nothing for you but patience, and

when restored you can follow the army, and rejoin your master before he

embarks at Marseilles. But how is it that a lad so young as you can have

incurred the enmity of those who sought your life? For it is clear from

the pertinacity with which they urged their attack that their object was

not plunder, of which indeed they would get but little from you, but to

take your life."

Cuthbert recounted the circumstances which had led to the feud of the

Count of Brabant against him, for he doubted not that this truculent

knight was at the bottom of the attack.

"After what has happened," the monk said, "you will need have caution

when you leave here. The place where you have taken refuge is known to

them, and should this wild noble persist in his desire for vengeance

against you, he will doubtless leave some of his ruffians to watch the

monastery. We will keep a look-out, and note if any strangers are to be

seen near the gates; if we find that it is so, we shall consider what is

best to be done. We could of course appeal to the mayor for protection

against them, and could even have the strangers ejected from the town or

cast into prison; but it is not likely that we should succeed in

capturing more than the fellow who may be placed on the look-out, and the

danger would be in no wise lessened to yourself. But there is time to

talk over this matter before you leave. It will be another fortnight at

least before you will be able to pursue your journey."

Cuthbert gained strength more rapidly than the monk had expected. He was

generously fed, and this and his good constitution soon enabled him to

recover from the loss of blood; and at the end of five days he expressed

his hope that he could on the following day pursue his journey. The monk

who attended him shook his head.

"Thou mightst, under ordinary circumstances, quit us to-morrow, for thou

art well enough to take part in the ordinary pursuits of a page; but to

journey is a different thing. You may have all sorts of hardships to

endure; you may have even to trust for your life to your speed and

endurance; and it would be madness for you to go until your strength is

fully established. I regret to tell you that we have ascertained beyond a

doubt that the monastery is closely watched. We have sent some of the

acolytes out, dressed in the garbs of monks, and attended by one of our

elder brethren; and in each case, a monk who followed at a distance of

fifty yards was able to perceive that they were watched. The town is full

of rough men, the hangers-on of the army; some, indeed, are followers of

laggard knights, but the greater portion are men who merely pursue the

army with a view to gain by its necessities, to buy plunder from the

soldiers, and to rob, and, if necessary, to murder should there be a hope

of obtaining gold. Among these men your enemies would have little

difficulty in recruiting any number, and no appeal that we could make to

the mayor would protect you from them when you have left the walls. We

must trust to our ingenuity in smuggling you out. After that, it is upon

your own strength and shrewdness that you must rely for an escape from

any snares that may be laid for you. You will see, then, that at least

another three or four days are needed before you can set forth. Your

countrymen are so far away that a matter of a few days will make but

little difference. They will in any case be delayed for a long time at

Marseilles before they embark; and whether you leave now or a month

hence, you would be equally in time to join them before their

embarkation--that is, supposing that you make your way through the snares

which beset you."

Cuthbert saw the justice of the reasoning, and it was another week

before he announced himself as feeling absolutely restored to strength

again, and capable of bearing as much exertion as he could have done

before his attack.

A long consultation was held with the prior and a monk who had acted as

his leech, as to the best plan of getting Cuthbert beyond the walls of

the city. Many schemes were proposed and rejected. Every monk who

ventured beyond the walls had been closely scrutinized, and one or two of

short stature had even been jostled in the streets, so as to throw back

their hoods and expose a sight of their faces. It was clear, then, that

it would be dangerous to trust to a disguise. Cuthbert proposed that he

should leave at night, trusting solely to their directions as to the

turnings he should take to bring him to the city walls, and that, taking

a rope, he should there let himself down, and make the best of his way

forward. This, however, the monks would not consent to, assuring him that

the watch was so strictly kept round the monastery that he would

inevitably be seen.

"No," the prior said, "the method, whatever it is, must be as open as

possible; and though I cannot at this moment hit upon a plan, I will

think it over to-night, and putting my ideas with those of Father Jerome

here, and the sacristan, who has a shrewd head, it will be hard if we

cannot between us contrive some plan to evade the watch of those robber

villains who beset the convent."

The next morning when the prior came in to see Cuthbert, the latter said,

"Good father, I have determined not to endeavour to make off in disguise.

I doubt not that your wit could contrive some means by which I should get

clear of the walls without observation from the scouts of this villain

noble. But once in the country, I should have neither horse nor armour,

and should have hard work indeed to make my way down through France, even

though none of my enemies were on my track. I will therefore, if it

please you, go down boldly to the Mayor, and claim a protection and

escort. If he will but grant me a few men-at-arms for one day's ride from

the town, I can choose my own route, and riding out in mail can then take

my chance of finding my way down to Marseilles."

"I will go down with you, my son," the prior said, "to the mayor. Two of

my monks shall accompany us; and assuredly no insult will be offered to

you in the street thus accompanied." Shortly afterwards, Cuthbert

started as arranged, and soon arrived at the house of the mayor, Sir

John de Cahors.

Upon the prior making known to this knight whom he had brought with him,

the mayor exclaimed,--

"Pest! young gentleman; you have caused us no small trouble and concern.

We have had ridings to and fro concerning you, and furious messages from

your fiery king. When in the morning a tall, stalwart knave dressed in

green was found, slashed about in various places, lying on the pavement,

the townsmen, not knowing who he was, but finding that he still

breathed, carried him to the English camp, and he was claimed as a

follower of the Earl of Evesham. There was great wrath and anger over

this; and an hour later the earl himself came down and stated that his

page was missing, and that there was reason to believe that he had been

foully murdered, as he had accompanied the man found wounded.

Fortunately the bulk of the armies had marched away at early dawn, and

the earl had only remained behind in consequence of the absence of his

followers. I assured the angry Englishman that I would have a thorough

search made in the town; and although in no way satisfied, he rode off

after his king with all his force, carrying with him the long-limbed

man whom we had picked up. Two days after, a message came back from King

Richard himself, saying that unless this missing page were discovered,

or if, he being killed, his murderers were not brought to justice and

punished, he would assuredly on his return from the Holy Land burn the

town over our ears. Your king is not a man who minces matters. However,

threatened men live long, especially when the person who threatens is

starting for a journey, from which, as like or not, he may never return.