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

oot,forIhaveheardthatheisaverystoutandskilfulsoldier,andamanfromwhommuchhonoristobegained.” “Heisabloodyrobber,”saidthetrader,curtly,“andIwishIsawhimkickingattheendofahalter.” “Itissuchmenashe,”SirNigelremarked,“whogivethetrueknighthonorabledeedstodo,wherebyhemayadvancehimself.” “Itissuchmenashe,”retortedMicheldene,“whoarelikeratsinawheat-rickormothsinawoolfels,aharmandahindrancetoallpeacefulandhonestmen.” “Yet,ifthedangersoftheroadweighsoheavilyuponyou,masteralderman,itisagreatmarveltomethatyoushouldventuresofarfromhome.” “Andsometimes,sirknight,itisamarveltomyself.ButIamamanwhomaygrutchandgrumble,butwhenIhavesetmyfacetodoathingIwillnotturnmybackuponituntilitbedone.Thereisone,FrancoisVillet,atCahors,whowillsendmewine-casksformycloth-bales,sotoCahorsIwillgo,thoughalltherobber-knightsofChristendomweretolinetheroadslikeyonderpoplars.” “Stoutlyspoken,masteralderman!Buthowhaveyoufaredhitherto?” “Asalambfaresinalandofwolves.Fivetimeswehavehadtobegandprayerewecouldpass.TwiceIhavepaidtolltothewardensoftheroad.Threetimeswehavehadtodraw,andonceatLaReollewestoodoverourwool-bales,WatkinandI,andwelaidaboutusforaslongasamanmightchantalitany,slayingonerogueandwoundingtwoothers.ByGod'scoif!wearemenofpeace,butwearefreeEnglishburghers,nottobemishandledeitherinourcountryorabroad.Neitherlord,baron,knight,orcommonershallhaveasmuchasastrikeofflaxofminewhilstIhavestrengthtowagthissword.” “Andapassingstrangesworditis,”quothSirNigel.“Whatmakeyou,Alleyne,oftheseblacklineswhicharedrawnacrossthesheath?” “Icannottellwhattheyare,myfairlord.” “NorcanI,”saidFord. Themerchantchuckledtohimself.“Itwasathoughtofmineown,”saidhe“fortheswordwasmadebyThomasWilson,thearmorer,whoisbetrothedtomyseconddaughterMargery.Knowthenthatthesheathisonecloth-yard,inlength,markedoffaccordingtofeetandinchestoservemeasameasuringwand.Itisalsooftheexactweightoftwopounds,sothatImayuseitinthebalance.” “BySaintPaul!”quothSirNigel,“itisverycleartomethattheswordislikethyself,goodalderman,apteitherforwarorforpeace.ButIdoubtnotthateveninEnglandyouhavehadmuchtosufferfromthehandsofrobbersandoutlaws.” “ItwasonlylastLammastide,sirknight,thatIwasleftfordeadnearReadingasIjourneyedtoWinchesterfair.YetIhadtheroguesupatthecourtofpie-powder,andtheywillharmnomorepeacefultraders.” “Youtravelmuchthen!” “ToWinchester,Linnmart,Bristolfair,Stourbridge,andBartholomew'sinLondonTown.TherestoftheyearyoumayeverfindmefivedoorsfromthechurchofOurLady,whereIwouldfrommyheartthatIwasatthismoment,forthereisnoairlikeNorwichair,andnowaterliketheYare,norcanallthewinesofFrancecomparewiththebeerofoldSamYelvertonwhokeepsthe'DunCow.'But,outandalack,hereisanevilfruitwhichhangsuponthischestnut-tree!” Ashespoketheyhadriddenroundacurveoftheroadandcomeuponagreattreewhichshotonestrongbrownbranchacrosstheirpath.Fromthecentreofthisbranchtherehungaman,withhisheadatahorridslanttohisbodyandhistoesjusttouchingtheground.Hewasnakedsaveforalinenundershirtandpairofwoollendrawers.Besidehimonagreenbanktheresatasmallmanwithasolemnface,andagreatbundleofpapersofallcolorsthrustingforthfromthescripwhichlaybeside