"No,I keep him for better sport,"snarled Brother Thomas."He shall learn the Scots for 'ecorcheurs'(flayers of men)"when we have filled our pouches."With that he crammed a great napkin in my mouth,so that I could not cry,made it fast with a piece of cord,trussed me with the rope which he had bidden me tie across the path to trip the horses,and with a kick sent me flying to the bottom of the ditch,my face being turned from the road.
I could hear Giles and Aymeric steal across the way,and the rustling of boughs as they settled on the opposite side.I could hear the trampling hoofs of horses coming slowly and wearily from the east.At this moment chanced a thing that has ever seemed strange to me:I felt the hand of the violer woman laid lightly and kindly on my hair.I had ever pitied her,and,as I might,had been kind to her and her bairn;and now,as it appears,she pitied me.
But there could be no help in her,nor did she dare to raise her voice and give an alarm.So I could but gnaw at my gag,trying to find scope for my tongue to cry,for now it was not only the travellers that I would save,but my own life,and my escape from a death of torment lay on my success.But my mouth was as dry as a kiln,my tongue was doubled back till I thought that I should have choked.The night was now deadly still,and the ring of the weary hoofs drew nearer and nearer.I heard a stumble,and the scramble of a tired horse as he recovered himself;for the rest,all was silent,though the beating of my own heart sounded heavy and husky in my ears.
Closer and closer the travellers drew,and soon it was plain that they rode not carelessly,nor as men who deemed themselves secure,for the tramp of one horse singled itself out in front of the others,and this,doubtless,was ridden by an "eclaireur,"sent forward to see that the way ahead was safe.Now I heard a low growl of a curse from Brother Thomas,and my heart took some comfort.
They might be warned,if the Brother shot at the foremost man;or,at worst,if he was permitted to pass,the man would bear swift tidings to Chinon,and we might be avenged,the travellers and I,for I now felt that they and I were in the same peril.
The single rider drew near,and passed,and there came no cry of "Pax vobiscum"from the friar.But the foremost rider had,perchance,the best horse,and the least wearied,for there was even too great a gap between him and the rest of his company.
And now their voices might be heard,as they talked by the way,yet not so loud that,straining my ears as I did,I could hear any words.But the sounds waxed louder,with words spoken,ring of hoofs,and rattle of scabbard on stirrup,and so I knew,at least,that they who rode so late were men armed.Brother Thomas,too,knew it,and cursed again very low.
Nearer,nearer they came,then almost opposite,and now,as Ilistened to hear the traitorous signal of murder--"Pax vobiscum"--and the twang of bow-strings,on the night there rang a voice,a woman's voice,soft but wondrous clear,such as never I knew from any lips but hers who then spoke;that voice I heard in its last word,"Jesus!"and still it is sounding in my ears.
That voice said -
"Nous voile presqu'arrives,grace e mes Freres de Paradis."Instantly,I knew not how,at the sound of that blessed voice,and the courage in it,I felt my fear slip from me,as when we awaken from a dreadful dream,and in its place came happiness and peace.
Scarce otherwise might he feel who dies in fear and wakes in Paradise.
On the forest boughs above me,my face being turned from the road,somewhat passed,or seemed to pass,like a soft golden light,such as in the Scots tongue we call a "boyn,"that ofttimes,men say,travels with the blessed saints.Yet some may deem it but a glancing in my own eyes,from the blood flying to my head;howsoever it be,I had never seen the like before,nor have I seen it since,and,assuredly,the black branches and wild weeds were lit up bare and clear.
The tramp of the horses passed,there was no cry of "Pax vobiscum,"no twang of bows,and slowly the ring of hoofs died away on the road to Chinon.Then came a rustling of the boughs on the further side of the way,and a noise of footsteps stealthily crossing the road,and now I heard a low sound of weeping from the violer woman,that was crouching hard by where I lay.Her man struck her across the mouth,and she was still.
"You saw it?Saints be with us!You saw them?"he whispered to Brother Thomas.
"Fool,had I not seen,would I not have given the word?Get you gone,all the sort of you,there is a fey man in this company,be he who he will.Wander your own ways,and if ever one of you dogs speak to me again,in field,or street,or market,or ever mention this night ...ye shall have my news of it.Begone!Off!""Nay,but,Brother Thomas,saw'st thou what we saw?What sight saw'st thou?""What saw I?Fools,what should I have seen,but an outrider,and he a King's messenger,sent forward to warn the rest by his fall,if he fell,or to raise the country on us,if he passed,and if afterward they passed us not.They were men wary in war,and travelling on the Dauphin's business.Verily there was no profit in them.""And that was all?We saw other things.""What I saw was enough for me,or for any good clerk of St.
Nicholas,and of questions there has been more than enough.Begone!
scatter to the winds,and be silent."
"And may we not put the steel in that Scotch dog who delayed us?
Saints or sorcerers,their horses must have come down but for him."Brother Thomas caught me up,as if I had been a child,in his arms,and tossed me over the ditch-bank into the wood,where I crashed on my face through the boughs.