CHAPTER XXVII. HOW ROGER CLUB-FOOT WAS PASSED INTO PARADISE.

varlets,orbyarchershiredfortheservice. “ThepeaceofBretignyhathnotmademuchchangeintheseparts,”quothSirNigel,“forthecountryisoverrunwithfreecompanionsandmasterlessmen.Yondertowers,betweenthewoodandthehill,markthetownofCahors,andbeyonditisthelandofFrance.Buthereisamanbythewayside,andashehathtwohorsesandasquireImakelittledoubtthatheisaknight.Iprayyou,Alleyne,togivehimgreetingfromme,andtoaskhimforhistitlesandcoat-armor.ItmaybethatIcanrelievehimofsomevow,orperchancehehathaladywhomhewouldwishtoadvance.” “Nay,myfairlord,”saidAlleyne,“thesearenothorsesandasquire,butmulesandavarlet.Themanisamercer,forhehathagreatbundlebesidehim.” “Now,God'sblessingonyourhonestEnglishvoice!”criedthestranger,prickinguphisearsatthesoundofAlleyne'swords.“NeverhaveIheardmusicthatwassosweettomineear.Come,Watkinlad,throwthebalesoverLaura'sback!Myheartwasnighbroke,foritseemedthatIhadleftallthatwasEnglishbehindme,andthatIwouldneverseteyesuponNorwichmarketsquareagain.”Hewasatall,lusty,middle-agedmanwitharuddyface,abrownforkedbeardshotwithgray,andabroadFlandershatsetatthebackofhishead.Hisservant,astallashimself,butgauntandraw-boned,hadswungthebalesonthebackofonemule,whilethemerchantmountedupontheotherandrodetojointheparty.Itwaseasytosee,asheapproached,fromthequalityofhisdressandtherichnessofhistrappings,thathewasamanofsomewealthandposition. “Sirknight,”saidhe,“mynameisDavidMicheldene,andIamaburgherandaldermanofthegoodtownofNorwich,whereIlivefivedoorsfromthechurchofOurLady,asallmenknowonthebanksofYare.IhaveheremybalesofclothwhichIcarrytoCahors—woeworththedaythateverIstartedonsuchanerrand!Icraveyourgraciousprotectionuponthewayforme,myservant,andmymerceryforIhavealreadyhadmanyperilouspassages,andhavenowlearnedthatRogerClub-foot,therobber-knightofQuercy,isoutupontheroadinfrontofme.Iherebyagreetogiveyouonerose-nobleifyoubringmesafetotheinnofthe'Angel'inCahors,thesametoberepaidtomeormyheirsifanyharmcometomeormygoods.” “BySaintPaul!”answeredSirNigel,“IshouldbeasorryknightifIaskpayforstandingbyacountrymaninastrangeland.Youmayridewithmeandwelcome,MasterMicheldene,andyourvarletmayfollowwithmyarchers.” “God'sbenisonuponthybounty!”criedthestranger.“ShouldyoucometoNorwichyoumayhavecausetorememberthatyouhavebeenofservicetoAldermanMicheldene.ItisnotveryfartoCahors,forsurelyIseethecathedraltowersagainstthesky-linebutIhaveheardmuchofthisRogerClubfoot,andthemoreIhearthelessdoIwishtolookuponhisface.Oh,butIamsickandwearyofitall,andIwouldgivehalfthatIamworthtoseemygooddamesittinginpeacebesideme,andtohearthebellsofNorwichtown.” “Yourwordsarestrangetome,”quothSirNigel,“foryouhavetheappearanceofastoutman,andIseethatyouwearaswordbyyourside.” “Yetitisnotmytrade,”answeredthemerchant.“IdoubtnotthatifIsetyoudowninmyshopatNorwichyoumightscarcetellfustianfromfalding,andknowlittledifferencebetweenthevelvetofGenoaandthethree-piledclothofBruges.Thereyoumightwellturntomeforhelp.Buthereonaloneroadside,withthickwoodsandrobber-knights,Iturntoyou,foritisthebusinesstowhichyouhavebeenreared.” “Thereissoothinwhatyousay,MasterMicheldene,”saidSirNigel,“andItrustthatwemaycomeuponthisRogerClubf