CHAPTER IX. HOW STRANGE THINGS BEFELL IN MINSTEAD WOOD.

tinanypartofthewoodtothenorthoftheChristchurchroad.Asitchanced,however,thismorningmylittleRolandherewasloosedatastrong-wingedheron,andpageBertrandandIrodeon,withnothoughtsbutforthesport,untilwefoundourselvesinMinsteadwoods.Smallharmthen,butthatmyhorseTroubadourtrodwithatenderfootuponasharpstick,rearingandthrowingmetotheground.Seetomygown,thethirdthatIhavebefouledwithintheweek.WoeworthmewhenAgathathetire-womansetseyesuponit!” “Andwhatthen,lady?”askedAlleyne. “Why,thenawayranTroubadour,forbelikeIspurredhiminfalling,andBertrandrodeafterhimashardashoofscouldbearhim.WhenIrosetherewastheSocmanhimselfbymyside,withthenewsthatIwasonhisland,butwithsomanycourteouswordsbesides,andsuchgallantbearing,thatheprevaileduponmetocometohishouseforshelter,theretowaituntilthepagereturn.BythegraceoftheVirginandthehelpofmypatronSt.Magdalen,IstoppedshortereIreachedhisdoor,though,asyousaw,hestrovetohalemeuptoit.Andthen—ah-h-h-h!”—sheshiveredandchatteredlikeoneinanague-fit. “Whatisit?”criedAlleyne,lookingaboutinalarm. “Nothing,friend,nothing!IwasbutthinkinghowIbitintohishand.SoonerwouldIbitelivingtoadorpoisonedsnake.Oh,Ishallloathemylipsforever!Butyou—howbraveyouwere,andhowquick!Howmeekforyourself,andhowboldforastranger!IfIwereaman,Ishouldwishtodowhatyouhavedone.” “Itwasasmallthing,”heanswered,withatingleofpleasureatthesesweetwordsofpraise.“Butyou—whatwillyoudo?” “Thereisagreatoaknearhere,andIthinkthatBertrandwillbringthehorsesthere,foritisanoldhunting-trystofours.Thenheyforhome,andnomorehawkingto-day!Atwelve-milegallopwilldryfeetandskirt.” “Butyourfather?” “NotonewordshallItellhim.YoudonotknowhimbutIcantellyouheisnotamantodisobeyasIhavedisobeyedhim.Hewouldavengeme,itistrue,butitisnottohimthatIshalllookforvengeance.Someday,perchance,injoustorintourney,knightmaywishtowearmycolors,andthenIshalltellhimthatifhedoesindeedcravemyfavorthereiswrongunredressed,andthewrongertheSocmanofMinstead.Somyknightshallfindaventuresuchasboldknightslove,andmydebtshallbepaid,andmyfathernonethewiser,andoneroguethelessintheworld.Say,isnotthatabraveplan?” “Nay,lady,itisathoughtwhichisunworthyofyou.Howcansuchasyouspeakofviolenceandofvengeance.Arenonetobegentleandkind,nonetobepiteousandforgiving?Alas!itisahard,cruelworld,andIwouldthatIhadneverleftmyabbeycell.TohearsuchwordsfromyourlipsisasthoughIheardanangelofgracepreachingthedevil'sowncreed.” Shestartedfromhimasayoungcoltwhofirstfeelsthebit.“Gramercyforyourrede,youngsir!”shesaid,withalittlecurtsey.“AsIunderstandyourwords,youaregrievedthatyouevermetme,andlookuponmeasapreachingdevil.Why,myfatherisabittermanwhenheiswroth,buthathnevercalledmesuchanameasthat.Itmaybehisrightandduty,butcertesitisnoneofthine.Soitwouldbebest,sinceyouthinksolowlyofme,thatyoushouldtakethispathtotheleftwhileIkeeponuponthisoneforitisclearthatIcanbenofitcompanionforyou.”Sosaying,withdowncastlidsandadignitywhichwassomewhatmarredbyherbedraggledskirt,shesweptoffdownthemuddytrack,leavingAlleynestandingstaringruefullyafterher.Hewaitedinvainforsomebackwardglanceorsignofrelenting,butshewalkedonwitharigidneckuntilherdresswasonlyawhiteflutteramongtheleaves.Then,withasunkenheadandaheavyheart,heploddedwearilydowntheotherpath,wrothwithhimselffortherudeanduncouthtonguewhichhadgivenoffencewheresolittlewasintended. Hehadgonesomeway,lostindoubtandinself-reproach,hismindalltremulouswithathousandnew-foundthoughtsandfearsandwonderments,whenofasuddentherewasalightrustleoftheleavesbehindhim,and,glancinground,therewasthisgraceful,swift-footedcreature,treadinginhisveryshadow,withherproudheadbowed,evenashiswas—thepictureofhumilityandrepentance. “Ishallnotvexyou,norevenspeak,”shesaid“butIwouldfainkeepwithyouwhileweareinthewood.” “Nay,youcannotvexme,”heanswered,allwarmagainattheverysightofher.“ItwasmyroughwordswhichvexedyoubutIhavebeenthrownamongmenallmylife,andindeed,withallthewill,Iscarceknowhowtotempermyspeechtoalady'sear.” “Thenunsayit,”criedshequickly“saythatIwasrighttowishtohavevengeanceontheSocman.” “Nay,Icannotdothat,”heansweredgravely. “Thenwhoisungentleandunkindnow?”shecriedintriumph.“Howsternandcoldyouareforonesoyoung!Artsurelynomereclerk,butbishoporcardinalattheleast.Shouldsthavecrozierforstaffandmitreforcap.Well,well,foryoursakeIwillforgivetheSocmanandtakevengeanceonnonebutonmyownwilfulselfwhomustneedsrunintodanger'spath.Sowillthatpleaseyou,sir?” “Therespokeyourtrueself,”saidhe“andyouwillfindmorepleasureinsuchforgivenessthaninanyvengeance.” Sheshookherhead,asifbynomeansassuredofit,andthenwithasuddenlittlecry,whichhadmoreofsurprisethanofjoyinit,“HereisBertrandwiththehorses!” Downthegladetherecamealittlegreen-cladpagewithlaughingeyes,andlongcurlsfloatingbehindhim.Hesatperchedonahighbayhorse,andheldontothebridleofaspiritedblackpalfrey,thehidesofbothglisteningfromalongrun. “Ihavesoughtyoueverywhere,dearLadyMaude,”saidheinapipingvoice,springingdownfromhishorseandholdingthestirrup.“TroubadourgallopedasfarasHolmhillereIcouldcatchhim.Itrustthatyouhavehadnohurtorscath?”HeshotaquestioningglanceatAlleyneashespoke. “No,Bertrand,”saidshe,“thankstothiscourteousstranger.Andnow,sir,”shecontinued,springingintohersaddle,“itisnotfitthatIleaveyouwithoutawordmore.Clerkorno,youhaveactedthisdayasbecomesatrueknight.KingArthurandallhistablecouldnothavedonemore.Itmaybethat,assomesmallreturn,myfatherorhiskinmayhavepowertoadvanceyourinterest.Heisnotrich,butheishonoredandhathgreatfriends.Tellmewhatisyourpurpose,andseeifhemaynotaidit.” “Alas!lady,Ihavenownopurpose.Ihavebuttwofriendsintheworld,andtheyhavegonetoChristchurch,whereitislikelyIshalljointhem.” “AndwhereisChristchurch?” “Atthecastlewhichisheldbythebraveknight,SirNigelLoring,constabletotheEarlofSalisbury.” Tohissurprisesheburstouta-laughing,and,spurringherpalfrey,dashedoffdowntheglade,withherpageridingbehindher.Notoneworddidshesay,butasshevanishedamidthetreesshehalfturnedinhersaddleandwavedalastgreeting.Longtimehestood,halfhopingthatshemightagaincomebacktohimbutthethudofthehoofshaddiedaway,andtherewasnosoundinallthewoodsbutthegentlerustleanddroppingoftheleaves.Atlastheturnedawayandmadehiswaybacktothehigh-road—anotherpersonfromthelight-heartedboywhohadleftitashortthreehoursbefore.