CHAPTER XIV. HOW SIR NIGEL SOUGHT FOR A WAYSIDE VENTURE.

dansweredwithagrin,“itisviolencewhichisofferedtoaman.HecomesfromHordle,andthisishismotherwhohathcomeforthtowelcomehim.” “Yourammuckylurden,”shewashowling,withablowbetweeneachcatchofherbreath,“youshammocking,yaping,over-longgood-for-nought.Iwillteachthee!Iwillbastethee!Aye,bymyfaith!” “Whist,mother,”saidJohn,lookingbackatherfromthetailofhiseye,“IgotoFranceasanarchertogiveblowsandtotakethem.” “ToFrance,quotha?”criedtheolddame.“Bideherewithme,andIshallwarrantyoumoreblowsthanyouareliketogetinFrance.Ifblowsbewhatyouseek,youneednotgofurtherthanHordle.” “Bymyhilt!thegooddamespeakstruth,”saidAylward.“Itseemstobetheveryhomeofthem.” “Whathaveyoutosay,youclean-shavedgalley-beggar?”criedthefierydame,turninguponthearcher.“CanInotspeakwithmyownsonbutyoumustletyourtongueclack?Asoldier,quotha,andneverahaironhisface.Ihaveseenabettersoldierwithpapforfoodandswaddlingclothesforharness.” “Standtoit,Aylward,”criedthearchers,amidafreshburstoflaughter. “Donotthwarther,comrade,”saidbigJohn.“Shehathaproperspiritforheryearsandcannotabidetobethwarted.Itiskindlyandhomelytometohearhervoiceandtofeelthatsheisbehindme.ButImustleaveyounow,mother,forthewayisover-roughforyourfeetbutIwillbringyoubackasilkengown,iftherebeoneinFranceorSpain,andIwillbringJinnyasilverpennysogood-byetoyou,andGodhaveyouinHiskeeping!”Whippingupthelittlewoman,heliftedherlightlytohislips,andthen,takinghisplaceintheranksagain,marchedonwiththelaughingCompany. “Thatwaseverhisway,”shecried,appealingtoSirNigel,whoreineduphishorseandlistenedwiththegreatestcourtesy.“HewouldjogonhisownroadforallthatIcoulddotochangehim.Firsthemustbeamonkforsooth,andallbecauseawenchwaswiseenoughtoturnherbackonhim.Thenhejoinsarascallycrewandmustneedstrapseofftothewars,andmewithnoonetobaitthefireifIbeout,ortendthecowifIbehome.YetIhavebeenagoodmothertohim.ThreehazelswitchesadayhaveIbrokeacrosshisshoulders,andhetakesnomorenoticethanyouhaveseenhimto-day.” “Doubtnotthathewillcomebacktoyoubothsafeandprosperous,myfairdame,”quothSirNigel.“MeanwhileitgrievesmethatasIhavealreadygivenmypursetoabeggaruptheroadI——” “Nay,mylord,”saidAlleyne,“Istillhavesomemoneysremaining.” “ThenIprayyoutogivethemtothisveryworthywoman.”Hecanteredonashespoke,whileAlleyne,havingdispensedtwomorepence,lefttheolddamestandingbythefurthestcottageofHordle,withhershrillvoiceraisedinblessingsinsteadofrevilings. Thereweretwocross-roadsbeforetheyreachedtheLymingtonFord,andateachofthenSirNigelpulleduphishorse,andwaitedwithmanyacurvetandgambade,craninghisneckthiswayandthattoseeiffortunewouldsendhimaventure.Crossroadshad,asheexplained,beenrareplacesforknightlyspear-runnings,andinhisyouthitwasnouncommonthingforacavaliertoabideforweeksatsuchapoint,holdinggentledebatewithallcomers,tohisownadvancementandthegreathonorofhislady.Thetimeswerechanged,however,andtheforesttrackswoundawayfromthemdesertedandsilent,withnotrampleofwar-horseorclangofarmorwhichmightheraldtheapproachofanadversary—sothatSirNigelrodeonhiswaydisconsolate.AttheLymingtonRivertheysplashedthroughtheford,andlayinthemeadowsonthefurthersidetoeatthebreadandsaltmeatwhichtheycarrieduponthesumpterhorses.Then,erethesunwasontheslopeoftheheavens,theyhaddeftlytrussedupagain,andwereswingingmerrilyupontheirway,twohundredfeetmovingliketwo. Thereisathirdcross-roadwherethetrackfromBoldrerunsdowntotheoldfishingvillageofPitt'sDeep.Downthis,astheycameabreastofit,therewalkedtwomen,theoneapaceortwobehindtheother.Thecavalierscouldnotbutpulluptheirhorsestolookatthem,forastrangerpairwereneverseenjourneyingtogether.Thefirstwasamisshapen,squalidmanwithcruel,cunningeyesandasho