CHAPTER VIII. THE THREE FRIENDS.

hepathmounted,thelongsweepofcountrybroadenedandexpanded,slopingdownontheonesidethroughyellowforestandbrownmoortothedistantsmokeofLymingtonandthebluemistychannelwhichlayalongsidethesky-line,whiletothenorththewoodsrolledaway,grovetoppinggrove,towhereinthefurthestdistancethewhitespireofSalisburystoodouthardandclearagainstthecloudlesssky.ToAlleynewhosedayshadbeenspentinthelow-lyingcoastland,theeageruplandairandthewidefreecountry-sidegaveasenseoflifeandofthejoyoflivingwhichmadehisyoungbloodtingleinhisveins.EventheheavyJohnwasnotunmovedbythebeautyoftheirroad,whilethebowmanwhistledlustilyorsangsnatchesofFrenchlovesongsinavoicewhichmighthavescaredthemoststout-heartedmaidenthateverhearkenedtoserenade. “Ihavealikingforthatnorthcountryman,”heremarkedpresently.“Hehathgoodpowerofhatred.Couldstseebyhischeekandeyethatheisasbitterasverjuice.Iwarmtoamanwhohathsomegallinhisliver.” “Ahme!”sighedAlleyne.“Woulditnotbebetterifhehadsomeloveinhisheart?” “Iwouldnotsaynaytothat.Bymyhilt!Ishallneverbesaidtobetraitortothelittleking.Letamanlovethesex.PasquesDieu!theyaremadetobeloved,lespetites,fromwhimpledowntoshoe-string!Iamrightglad,mongarcon,toseethatthegoodmonkshavetrainedtheesowiselyandsowell.” “Nay,Imeantnotworldlylove,butratherthathisheartshouldsoftentowardsthosewhohavewrongedhim.” Thearchershookhishead.“Amanshouldlovethoseofhisownbreed,”saidhe.“ButitisnotnaturethatanEnglish-bornmanshouldloveaScotoraFrenchman.Mafoi!youhavenotseenadroveofNithsdaleraidersontheirGallowaynags,oryouwouldnotspeakoflovingthem.IwouldassoontakeBeelzebubhimselftomyarms.Ifear,mongar.,thattheyhavetaughttheebutbadlyatBeaulieu,forsurelyabishopknowsmoreofwhatisrightandwhatisillthananabbotcando,andImyselfwiththeseveryeyessawtheBishopofLincolnhewintoaScottishhobelerwithabattle-axe,whichwasapassingstrangewayofshowinghimthathelovedhim.” AlleynescarcesawhiswaytoargueinthefaceofsodecidedanopiniononthepartofahighdignitaryoftheChurch.“YouhavebornearmsagainsttheScots,then?”heasked. “Why,man,IfirstloosedstringinbattlewhenIwasbutalad,youngerbytwoyearsthanyou,atNeville'sCross,undertheLordMowbray.Later,IservedundertheWardenofBerwick,thatveryJohnCopelandofwhomourfriendspake,thesamewhoheldtheKingofScotstoransom.Mafoi!itisroughsoldiering,andagoodschoolforonewhowouldlearntobehardyandwar-wise.” “IhaveheardthattheScotsaregoodmenofwar,”saidHordleJohn. “ForaxemenandforspearmenIhavenotseentheirmatch,”thearcheranswered.“Theycantravel,too,withbagofmealandgridironslungtotheirsword-belt,sothatitisilltofollowthem.Therearescantcropsandfewbeevesintheborderland,whereamanmustreaphisgrainwithsickleinonefistandbrownbillintheother.Ontheotherhand,theyarethesorriestarchersthatIhaveeverseen,andcannotsomuchasaimwiththearbalest,tosaynoughtofthelong-bow.Again,theyaremostlypoorfolk,eventhenoblesamongthem,sothattherearefewwhocanbuyasgoodabrigandineofchain-mailasthatwhichIamwearing,anditisillforthemtostandupagainstourownknights,whocarrythepriceoffiveScotchfarmsupontheirchestandshoulders.Manforman,withequalweapons,theyareasworthyandvaliantmenascouldbefoundinthewholeofChristendom.” “AndtheFrench?”askedAlleyne,towhomthearcher'slightgossiphadalltherelishthatthewordsofthemanofactionhavefortherecluse. “TheFrencharealsoveryworthymen.WehavehadgreatgoodfortuneinFrance,andithathled