"I have been thinking, Master Forster, that it would be safer, both for you and for me, were you to tarry here for a while. You came through safely, it is true, but you might not have such good fortune on your return; and even though I sent no written answer, it would be enough, were Percy's signet found upon you, to ensure your imprisonment, and perhaps death. At any rate, they would have the means of wringing from you the mission of which you were in charge; while I could send equally well a message by sea, as I did before."
"I see that there might be some slight danger, my Lord Earl," Oswald said quietly; "but I, as well as another, might take passage down by ship touching at Berwick, or other port."
The earl's brow clouded.
"'Tis a matter to be thought over," he said, moodily. "A ship might be captured, seeing that there are often French freebooting vessels on the coast. And what were your orders from Lord Percy?"
"That I was to return, immediately I had conveyed his message to you."
"I would gladly hasten your departure," the earl said, after a moment's pause, "but you see, great issues hang upon this affair. However, I will think the matter over again, and will see how it can be best managed."
After leaving the castle, Oswald went to the convent where the monk was lodged, and asked for speech with Brother Roger. In a minute or two the latter came out.
"Are we off, young master?" he asked. "In truth, it is as bad here as at Alnwick; and, after a taste of liberty, I am longing to be out again; and indeed, I have had some trouble in accounting for my stay here, instead of continuing my journey to see my aged father."
"If it depended upon me, I would say that we would start forthwith; but what I have somewhat feared, all along, has come to pass. I was the bearer of a certain message of much importance, from Hotspur to the earl, and I fear that the latter will detain me. He thinks that I know more than I have said, which indeed is true, and likes not that one who is so entirely cognisant of his secret counsels, and intentions, should go free. He put it down to the fact that I might be captured, on my way back, and forced to confess the whole details of the mission with which I am charged. It is possible that this is so, but it is more likely that he dislikes that anyone should know secrets that concern his safety; and although he has not said as much, at present, I believe that it is his intention to hold me here as prisoner; though doubtless with due courtesy, as befits Percy's messenger and esquire; until affairs come to a head, which may not be for a year or two, yet."
"Is there a guard over you, at present?"
"Not that I know of, Roger, but it may be that the inn is watched. At any rate, he would try to overtake me, did I attempt to leave without his permission."
"Then, Master Oswald, I should say let us be off, at once."
"But how, Roger? On foot we should be speedily overtaken, and if not watched at present, doubtless I shall be, after my interview with the earl this morning. Were I to try and buy horses, I might be arrested at once. However, I have been thinking that the best plan would be for you to go round to the port, and to bargain for a passage for us to Edinburgh. Then we would slip on board quietly, half an hour before she sailed.
"Methinks it were as well that you did not go in your robes. I will purchase a dress suitable to a cattle drover, for you, and a similar one for myself. I will bring yours for you here, in an hour's time, if you will wait a hundred yards from the gate for me. Then you can go to some quiet spot and change your garments, and then go down to the port. I will be standing at the door of my inn, and as you pass say, without checking your pace, the hour at which a boat sails, today or tomorrow; and then do you be near the hotel, again, an hour before that time.
"Do not speak to me as I come out, but keep a short distance behind me; and if you see that I am followed by anyone, you must do your best to rid me of him. You had better bring your present garments along with you. They may be useful."
Roger assented joyously. The thought that, at any rate for a time, he was to get rid of his robes filled him with joy; and the possibility that there might be danger in the enterprise only added to his pleasure.
Feeling the need for great care, Oswald walked for some little time before entering a shop, passing through several quiet streets; and, when assured that he was not followed, he went into the booth of a clothier.
"I have occasion for two suits of clothes, such as would be worn by cattle drovers," he said. "I am about to travel and, having money about me, can best do so safely in such a garment. I want one suit to fit me, and another for a companion, who is a big stout man, a good deal above the ordinary height."
"'Tis a wise precaution, your honour, for the roads are by no means safe, at present. I can fit you, with ease, and will pick out the largest clothes I have in stock, for your companion."
The purchase was soon made. It consisted of a rough smock of blue cloth, reaching to the knees, and girded in by a strap at the waist; and breeches of the same material, reaching below the knees, with strips of gray cloth to be wound round and round the leg, from the knee to the ankle. In addition, Oswald bought two pairs of rough sandals, and two lowland bonnets. Each suit was done up, at his request, in a separate parcel; and then, retracing his steps, he joined Roger and handed his clothes to him.
"I will go outside the gates and change my things," Roger said, "and then go down to the port. I will then come to your hotel, as you said. If no ship sails until tomorrow, I have only to put my robe on over these garments, and return to the convent. If there is one sailing this evening, I shall not go back there again; but will be on the lookout for you, half an hour before the boat leaves the port."
"The nearer the time of sailing, the better, Roger; for if I am watched, and there is any trouble with the man who follows me, the sooner we are on board before any alarm is raised, the better. But I should hardly think a boat would start, in the evening."
"I don't know, Master Oswald. I was down at the port, yesterday, and the tide was high at three o'clock; and methinks that a boat would put out an hour or two before low tide, so as to take the water with it as far as New Berwick, and there catch the flood flowing into the Firth. In that case, the boat would put out at six, or maybe seven o'clock."
"I would that it had been two hours later, Roger. After dark, it were easy enough to silence a man without attracting much attention; but in broad daylight, it would not be so easily done."
"Not if we went straight from the inn to the port, Master, but there is no need for you to take that route."
"You are right, Roger. Indeed, it would be better not to do so, for were they to have an idea that we had escaped by water, the earl might send a fast boat after us. Therefore, when I come out I will turn off and go, by unfrequented streets and lanes, in the opposite direction. In that way you will be better able to see if I am followed, and may find some quiet place, where you can give a man a clout on the head that will rid us of him."
"Will you come out, Master Oswald, in your present attire, or in your disguise?"
"I will wear this cloak and headgear, and will put these leggings over the others, so that I shall have but to take them off and fling them aside, and to throw off my cloak and cap and put on this bonnet, all of which will not take a minute and can be done in a doorway or passage without attracting observation. I should be afraid to go out, in the drover's attire. The servants at the inn know me, now; and moreover, a man of such condition would not think of going to the Falcon. Were I to be noticed, coming out, it might be thought that I had entered it for some evil purpose."
"I shall be on hand, master. I had thought of not returning to the monastery, but I must do so, for I have left my staff there, and it will be as suitable for a drover as a monk. I shall go to the harbour, as soon as I have seen you; and if it is this evening a boat sails, I shall go back at once and bid them farewell, saying that a ship is sailing for Leith, and that I have taken passage in her."
Oswald returned to the inn and, half an hour later, went down to the doorway, where he stood as if idly watching the flow of traffic. A quarter of an hour later, he saw Roger approaching. He looked the character that he had assumed, to the life. He had dirtied his hands and face, and smudged his smock with stains of mud. He strolled along, with a free step and head erect. He did not look at Oswald as he passed, but said, "Boat sails at seven, tonight."
Oswald stood for some time longer. A short distance down the street, he observed two of the earl's retainers. They were standing, apparently looking at the goods in a mercer's window. After a time, they moved on a short distance, passed the inn, and stopped again to look in another shop, twenty or thirty yards away.
Then Oswald left the door. The landlord was standing in the passage, and beckoned to him to enter his private room.
"Young sir," he said, "I know not whether you have done anything that has displeased the earl, nor is it any business of mine; but you are a fair-spoken young gentlemen, and I would not that any ill came to you. I like not to meddle in the earl's affairs, for he would think nothing of ordering my house to be burnt over my head. However, I may warn you that he is making inquiries about you. One of his retainers has been here, two hours ago, with a confidential message from the earl, to inquire whether you had said anything about leaving, and to bid me send a message to him, secretly, should you do so."
"I thank you warmly, my good host," Oswald replied. "I have had no quarrel with the earl, but we have differed as to the value of the goods he requires. He would fain have them at last year's prices; but wool has gone up, and we could not sell them, save at a loss. It may be that he thinks I shall go away, and that if he finds I am about to do so he will send for me, and agree to my terms, which indeed are so low that they leave but little profit. However, it were well that you should let me know how much I owe you, and I will pay that, at once. Do not make up the account, but tell me roundly there or thereabouts; and then, should I leave suddenly, you can say truly that I had not asked for my bill, and that you were altogether ignorant of my intention of leaving."
"There can be no occasion for that," the host said. "You can pay me the next time you come, should you decide to leave suddenly."
"Nay, I would rather settle obligations, for if I do not do business with the earl, it may be some time before I return."
The landlord made rapid calculations, and named a sum, which Oswald at once handed to him, with warm thanks for the warning he had given him.
"I may stay here three or four days longer," he said meaningly, "as the earl may, at the last moment, come to an agreement as to the price of the goods. I should be sorry to return to my uncle without getting an order, for the earl has, for years, been one of our best customers."
The landlord nodded.
"I understand," he said. "It would be as well, perhaps, that you should say as much in the hearing of one of the drawers; so that, if questioned, I shall have a witness who can bear me out."
It was still broad daylight when, at half-past six, Oswald left the inn and sauntered, at a leisurely pace, down the street. His eye at once fell on Roger's tall figure, and he also saw two retainers of the earl, loitering about. They were not the same men he had seen in the morning, but doubtless had relieved those on watch.
He took the first turning off the main street and, after passing through several lanes, found himself at the foot of the town wall. A narrow lane ran between it and a row of small houses. No one was about, and he thought that Roger would take advantage of the loneliness of the spot, to endeavour to rid him of his followers, whose footsteps he could hear some distance behind him. Presently, he glanced carelessly round. The men were some thirty or forty yards behind him; and coming up with them, at a rapid step, was Roger. A minute later, he heard a voice raised in anger.
"Where are you going, fellow? There is plenty of room to pass, without pushing between us. You want teaching manners."
Roger gave a loud laugh.
"Who is going to teach me?" he said.
"I will!" one of the men said, angrily placing his hand upon his sword hilt.
As he did so, he was levelled to the ground by a tremendous blow from Roger's staff. With a shout, the other soldier drew his sword; but, before he could guard himself, the staff again descended, and he fell senseless beside his comrade.
Roger at once knelt beside them, tore off strips of their garments and, rolling them up, pressed them into their mouths; and, with string which he had brought for the purpose, tied them in their place. Then, taking out a few pieces of cord he tied their hands behind them, and their ankles together; dragged them into a dark entry, and left them lying there.
The whole transaction had occupied but two or three minutes, and had attracted no attention, whatever. The soldiers' shout might have been heard; but there was no clashing of weapons, and a shout was too unimportant a matter for anyone within hearing to take any trouble about.
Oswald, seeing that Roger needed no assistance, had occupied himself with stripping off the outer pair of leggings; and had made these, with his cloak and cap, into a bundle; and, pressing the drover's cap down over his eyes, was ready by the time Roger came up to him.
"It was splendidly managed, Roger."
"It did well enough," the other said, carelessly. "It may be an hour before anyone stumbles over them; and, long before that, we shall be at sea."
They made their way back through quiet lanes until near the port, and then boldly went down to the side of a small craft.
"You are just in time, my men," the skipper said. "In another five minutes, we should be throwing off the ropes and hoisting sails. Now that you have come, we shall do so, at once. The tide is just right for us, and we have nothing further to stop for."
The boat was a large fishing smack, and had put into Dunbar but that afternoon, with the intention of disposing of the catch. Two others had, however, come in still earlier. The market being glutted, the skipper had determined to take his catch, which was a heavy one, on to Leith; and had agreed, for a very small sum, to carry the two drovers to that port.
Oswald and Roger aided in getting up the sails, and in a few minutes the smack was at sea. The wind was from the southwest, and the boat ran rapidly up the coast.
"The earl will be in a nice way, when he finds that you have gone," Roger said, as he stood in the stern to watch the rapidly receding towers of Dunbar. "There will be a hot hue and cry for you. The earl is not accustomed to be thwarted, and they say that he is a mighty hot-tempered man. I have no doubt that, as soon as his fellows bring him word of what has happened to them, and he finds that you have quitted the inn, he will send parties of horse out to scour the roads to Berwick and Haddington; and to search the country, far and near."
"He is welcome to do that," Oswald said. "My fear is that he will send down to the port, to inquire if any craft put out about the hour at which his men were attacked. But even if he does so, there is no great chance of our being overtaken. We are travelling fast, and in another hour it will be dark; and long before daybreak we shall reach Leith, having both wind and tide in our favour, all the way."
They kept an anxious watch, as long as there was light enough for them to make out if a vessel left Dunbar. Both fancied that they could see a sail, just as twilight was falling, but neither could be sure that it was not the effect of imagination. They were already ten miles away, and as the tide had now begun to make along the shore, it was certain that for some time, at least, a ship, however fast she might be, would gain but little upon them, until she had fairly entered the Firth. There would be no moon and, even should she overtake them, she might well pass them in the dark.
When they lay down, they agreed that they would keep awake in turns; and that, if they made out a ship apparently pursuing them, they would offer the skipper the full value for his boat, and betake themselves to it, and row for shore.
"The greatest danger," Roger said, "would be of their passing us, unseen; and then lying-to near the entrance of the port, and overhauling us as we came in."
"That is a danger that we cannot guard against. Can you swim, Roger?"
"It is years since I have done so," the monk replied, "but I used to do so, in the old days."
"There is an empty cask here, by my side," Oswald went on. "If we are challenged, the best plan would be to lower it down, quietly, into the water; and to hold on by it. The boat would certainly go some distance, before she had lost her way and brought up; and we should be out of sight of both ships, before they came together."
"That is a good idea. If we hear a hail, I will at once cut a good length of rope, and twist it round a barrel for us to hold on by. But I don't think there is any chance of our being overhauled."
"I agree with you in that respect; still, it is just as well to have our plans prepared, in case it should happen."
They kept a vigilant watch through the night, without catching sight of any craft proceeding in the same direction as themselves.
It was still dark when the helmsman hailed the skipper: "I see the lights of Leith ahead," and later they passed the beacon fire that marked the entrance to the port. Five minutes later Oswald and his companion, after paying the sum agreed on, stepped on shore.
"That danger is over. I did not think that there was any real cause for fear. I should like to see the earl, as his bands of horsemen ride in, today, with the news that they can hear nothing of us."
"I should like to hit him just such a clout, with my staff, as I gave his two retainers," Roger said. "Earl as he is, it was scandalous, and contrary to all usages, to arrest a messenger; especially when that messenger is an esquire of one of equal rank to himself, and his message, as I suppose, a friendly one."
"I don't so much blame him. He had no means of judging my discretion; and the consequences, to him and others, had I fallen into the hands of Douglas, or those of a marauding leader, might have been serious, indeed. I doubt not that, had I been content to stay with him, he would have treated me with all honour. I might even have done so, and have got him to send another messenger to Percy; but the latter bade me to return at once, and moreover said that he had another mission, as soon as I had carried the present one to a successful termination."
"And have you done so, Master Oswald?"
"Yes, I think so, Roger. I was to ascertain the earl's real intentions regarding certain matters, and I think that he means honestly to adhere to an offer he made. The very fear that he has shown, lest his intentions should be betrayed, seems to prove that he is most anxious that naught should occur to interfere with his plans."
"The Earls of Dunbar have ever been a treacherous race," Roger said earnestly, "and ready to betray their own countrymen, in order to curry favour with England, and continue in possession of their estates. However, as we have benefited from it, we need not grumble, if the Scots are contented.
"Now, Master Oswald, what are we to do next?"
"I should say that we had better find a corner to lie down, until daybreak. I don't think that either of us have slept. Then we will go into a tavern and breakfast, and afterwards go on to Edinburgh. I should like to see the town and castle, and the chance may never come again to me.
"Then, tomorrow morning, we will start in earnest. We shall have plenty of opportunities to talk over our plans, so let us lose no time, now, in looking for a bed."
Fortunately, they soon came upon some fishing nets, carelessly piled under the lee of a stack of timber. Here they threw themselves down, and were soon fast asleep.
When they woke, the sun was well up. Fishermen were preparing to get up sail; and those who had, like themselves, come in during the night, were commencing to unload their cargoes.
"Look there!" Oswald exclaimed, as he pointed to a vessel, from whose masthead floated a flag with the arms of the Earl of March. "She is just entering the port. They did chase us after all, you see, but they did not gain on our fishing boat."
"Well, methinks that we had better be off, at once," Roger said. "They will soon learn which boat has come from Dunbar, and find out from the men what were the disguises worn by us. So we had best lose no time in getting out of Leith."
"They would never dare to seize us, here," Oswald said.
"I don't know that. If they have strict orders to bring us back, they would not feel much hesitation in seizing us, wherever they found us; knowing well enough that the burghers of Leith would not concern themselves greatly about the capture of two drovers, who would probably be charged with all sorts of crime. Were it one of their own citizens, it would be different; but it is scarce likely that the burghers would care to quarrel, with a powerful noble, for the sake of two strangers of low degree. The gates will be open before this, and we shall be safer in Edinburgh than we are here."
Accordingly, they postponed their breakfast and, passing through the town without a pause, issued out by the south gate, and walked briskly to Edinburgh. As soon as they arrived, they found a small tavern, and partook of a hearty meal. Listening while they ate to the conversation going on around them, they found that the young Duke of Rothesay was, at present, staying at the castle.
"Men say that the disputes between him and his uncle, the Duke of Albany, have of late grown hotter."
"That might well be," another said. "Rothesay is a man, now. He has shown himself a brave soldier, and it is not likely that he would support, with patience, the haughtiness and overbearing manner of Albany. It was an evil day for Scotland when our good king, who was then but prince, lamed himself for life; and so was forced, on his accession, to leave the conduct of affairs to Albany, then Earl of Fife. The king, as all men know, is just and good, and has at heart the welfare of his subjects; but his accident has rendered him unfit to take part in public affairs, and he loves peace and quiet as much as Albany loves intrigues, and dark and devious ways. 'Tis a sore pity that the king cannot make up his mind to throw himself into the arms of Douglas, and call upon the nobility to join in expelling Albany from his councils; and to give the charge of affairs into the hands of Rothesay, or even to bestow upon him the kingly dignity, while he himself retires to the peaceful life he loves."
"That would have been better done," the other said, "before the young duke married; for many of the nobles, who would have otherwise supported him, would hold aloof, seeing that the accession of Rothesay would be but handing over the real power of the state from Albany to Douglas. Men say that the feud between March and Douglas grows hotter and hotter, and that the boldness with which March upbraided the king, for the breaking off by Rothesay of his marriage with Elizabeth of Dunbar, has so angered him, Rothesay, and Albany, who had aided in bringing about the match with Elizabeth Douglas, that 'tis like that March will, ere long, be arraigned for his conduct, and the threats that he uttered in his passion."
"Well, gossips, it matters little to us," an elderly man said. "Whether king or prince or duke is master, we have to pay; and assuredly, were Rothesay king, our taxes would not abate; seeing that he is extravagant and reckless, though I say not that he has not many good qualities. But these benefit, in no way, men like ourselves; while the taxation to support extravagance touches us all."
There was a murmur of assent from the little group who were talking, who struck Oswald as being farmers, who had come in from the country to sell cattle to the butchers of the town. They were interrupted in their talk by the landlord, who came across to them.
"My good friends," he said, "I pray you talk not so loudly concerning princes and nobles. It is true that we are a royal city, and that the burghers of Edinburgh have their rights and their liberties; nevertheless, it were dangerous to talk loud concerning nobles. We are quiet people all, and none here wear the cognizance of Douglas or Albany. Still, it would do me much harm, were it reported that there had been talk here concerning such powerful nobles; and though the Douglas might care little what was said of him, methinks that there are others--I name no names--who would spare neither great nor small who incurred their resentment."
"I knew not that we were talking loudly, John Ker; and methinks that none, save the two men at the near table, have heard our words; and they look honest fellows enough. Still, what you say is right, and while we may talk of these things by our firesides, 'tis best to keep a silent tongue, while abroad."
"You need not disquiet yourself about us," Roger broke in. "We have no communion with lords or princes; and, so that we can drive our herds safely down into Cumberland, we care not whether one noble or another has the king's ear. We have but just returned, from England."
"Well, man, I may put you in the way of getting a job, if you want one," the eldest of the party said. "I myself have a small farm, near Lavingston, and but breed cattle for the Edinburgh market; but I have a brother, at Lanark, who buys cattle up in the north; and, when there is peace between the countries, sends the droves down to Carlisle, and makes a good profit on their sales. I saw him but two hours ago, and he told me that he was daily expecting a lot of cattle from the north; and that he intended to send them on, without delay, to Carlisle. If you say to him that you have seen me, and that I recommended you to call on him, and see if he wanted any drovers to aid in taking them down; I doubt not he will take you on, unless he has already engaged men."
"I thank you for the offer," Roger said, "but our home lies near Roxburgh, and we intend to abide there for a time; for the roads are by no means safe, at present. Douglas is thinking more of his quarrel with Dunbar than of keeping down border freebooters. We escaped them this time; but we heard of their taking heavy toll from some herds that followed us, and of their killing two or three drovers who offered objection; so we have determined to abide at home, for a time, to see how matters go."
After taking a brief view of the town they started, in the afternoon, to walk to Dalkeith, where they slept; and, leaving there at daybreak, crossed a lofty range of hills, and came down into Lauderdale. They had no fear of any interruption such as they had experienced before--as, had Douglas news of negotiations going on between March and England, he would not think it necessary to watch the road between Edinburgh and the border--and late in the evening they arrived at Ancrum, on the Teviot, having done fully fifty miles, since starting.
Ten miles in the morning took them to Roxburgh. Here they put up at a small tavern, and Oswald donned the servitor's suit that he had brought with him from Dunbar; while Roger, to his great disgust, resumed his monk's gown, which he put on over the drover's suit.
Oswald then went to the governor's. His former acquaintance happened to be at the door, and endeavoured to atone for his former rudeness, by at once ushering him to the governor's room.
"Welcome back, Master Forster!" the latter said. "Your mission, whatever it was, is speedily terminated. From what you said, I had not looked for you for another fortnight."
"If I had not come when I did," Oswald said, "my absence might have been prolonged, for months. However, all has gone well, and I purpose starting at once for Alnwick, and would fain reach Wooler by nightfall."
"That you can do, easily enough. I will order the horses to be saddled, at once."
"I thank you, Sir Philip. I will mount here in the courtyard. I care not, now, what notice may be taken of me; seeing that there is but some ten miles to be ridden, to the frontier."
"Nor, I warrant me, will you meet with interference on the road," the knight said. "I have not heard of anyone being stopped for toll, for the past year, between this and the border."
A quarter of an hour later they left Roxburgh; and, travelling at an easy pace, arrived at Wooler before sunset; and on the following evening entered Alnwick. They could have reached it earlier, but Oswald thought it as well not to enter the castle until after dark, as he did not wish to be noticed in his present attire.
Fastening the horses to hooks in the courtyard, Oswald ran up to his apartment, which was next to that of his uncle.
"Welcome back, Oswald!" the latter said, as he opened his door on hearing his footsteps. "I had thought that you would be longer away."
"I am back sooner than I expected, Uncle. Will you order supper to be brought up here, for Roger and myself? We are both hard set; though, indeed, we had a meal of bread and cheese, at noon, at a wayside tavern."
"Brother Roger has behaved well?"
"Excellently. He has cracked but two sconces since we left, and these were on my behalf. He will sleep on some rushes in my room, tonight. He hates the thought of returning to the monastery, and has begged me, most earnestly, to ask Percy to continue him in his employment."
As soon as Oswald had donned his ordinary attire, he went to Lord Percy's quarters.
"You are back sooner than I had expected, Oswald," Hotspur said, as he entered. "Nothing has gone wrong, I hope?"
"Nothing, my lord, but I was forced to leave Dunbar, after but three days' stay there; for the earl was so fearful that I might be detected, on my way back, that he would have retained me with him until the time for action came; sending down another messenger, by sea, to you. As your orders were to return with all speed, I gave him the slip, and made my way back as quickly as possible."
"And March?"
"I think that the earl is in earnest in his professions, my lord; and that you can rely upon him for such aid as he can render. But, from what I heard in Edinburgh--"
"In Edinburgh!" Hotspur said, in surprise; "what took you there?"
"I will tell you, my lord; but the point is that men said openly, there, that there was a report that he would be attainted, and deprived of his land, for treasonable words spoken by him to the king, the Duke of Albany, and the Duke of Rothesay. If this is so, he will have to fly; for assuredly he has, at present, no force gathered that could resist those of the king and Douglas."
"Give me an account of what has happened," Hotspur said, frowning. "I feared that March's impetuous temper would lead him into trouble, before we were in a position to march to his assistance; and I heard rumours of a stormy scene between him and Rothesay, when he learned that he had been fooled; but I knew not that the king, himself, was present."
Oswald related the story of his journey, and the interruption on the moor; and the reports, that he had afterwards heard, of the stoppage of all travellers coming from the south, by the same band.
"The leader was evidently above the rank of an ordinary marauder, and his followers obeyed him as men-at-arms would obey an officer; and it seemed to me, my lord, that Douglas must have heard a vague report that the earl was in communication with England; and sought to intercept some messenger, on whom he might find a letter, or from whom he could extract proofs of the earl's treachery."
"'Tis like enough," Hotspur said. "When a man is so rash as to upbraid the king, and still more Albany, he must needs fall under suspicion. Now, go on with your story."
When Oswald had brought his narration to an end, Percy said:
"You have done very well, Oswald, and have deserved the confidence that I placed in you. You have shown much circumspection, and you did well in escaping from Dunbar, as you did. The mad monk, too, seems to have behaved well. I doubted your wisdom in taking him, but he has certainly proved a useful fellow."
"I would petition, my lord, that you should continue him in your service; and that, should you employ me upon another mission, you will again allow me to take him with me. He is a shrewd fellow, as well as a stout one, and I could wish for no better companion; though I own that, since he put on his gown again at Roxburgh, and rode hither, his spirits have greatly failed him."
"I will arrange that with the abbot," Hotspur said; "but tell him that, while he is here, he must continue to wear his robe. His face is too well known for him to pass as a man-at-arms, without being recognized by half the garrison. The Lord Abbot would well object to one of his monks turning into a swaggering man-at-arms, at his very door.
"At any rate, I shall tell the abbot that, if he will consent quietly to the monk's unfrocking himself, until he can obtain for him release from his vows; I will scud him away to one of the other castles, whence I can fetch him, if you need him to accompany you on any errand, and where he can form part of the regular garrison. But the knave must be informed that it were best that he say nought about his former profession, and that he comport himself as quietly as is in his nature.
"I will give him a small command, as soon as may be; for although a very bad monk, he has proved himself to be a good soldier."
"I thank you greatly, my lord," Oswald said; "and will talk seriously to the monk, who will be delighted when he hears that the abbot will take steps to allow him to lay aside his gown."
Roger was, indeed, delighted when he heard the news; and still more so when, three days later, Oswald informed him that Hotspur had obtained, from the abbot, what was practically a release from his vows. The good abbot said that he felt that harm, rather than good, would ensue from keeping the monk a member of the monastery.
"He infects the lay brothers, with his talk," he said. "He is a good instructor in arms, but he teaches not as one who feels that it is a dire necessity to carry arms, but as one who delights in it. Moreover, he causes scandals by his drinking bouts, and does not add to the harmony of the place. At a time like this, when the Scots may, at any moment, fall across the border, such a fellow may do good service to his country; and it is surely better that a man should be a good soldier, than that he should be a bad monk. Therefore I will let him go, my lord; but keep him away from here. It would be a grave scandal, were he to be brawling in the town where he is known. Therefore, I pray you, take him elsewhere. I have striven long to make him a worthy member of his order, but I feel that it is beyond me; and it would be best, therefore, that he should go his own way. He may come to be a worthy soldier, and so justify me in allowing him to unfrock himself.
"As he is abiding in your castle, I pray you bid him present himself here, tomorrow. I would fain speak to him, and give him such advice, concerning his future conduct, as may be of benefit to him."
When Roger returned from the monastery, the next day, he wore a much more serious face than usual.
"The abbot has done me more good, by his talk this morning," he said to Oswald, "than by all the lectures and penances he has ever imposed on me. In truth, he is a good man, and I had half a mind to say that I would return to the convent, and do my best to comport myself mildly and becomingly.
"But I felt that it would not do, Oswald. The thing is too strong for me and, however I might strive, I know that when the temptation came I should break out again; and so, I held my peace."
"What did he say to you, Roger?"
"He said many things, but the gist of it was that there were as good men outside the walls of a monastery as there were within it, and that a soldier has as many opportunities--indeed many more opportunities--of showing himself a good man as a monk has. In battle, he said, a soldier must act as such, and fight stoutly against the enemy, and take life as well as risk his own; but after the fight is over he should show himself merciful, and if he cannot follow out the precept to love his enemies, he should at least be compassionate and kind to them. But above all, he should never oppress the helpless, should comport himself honourably and kindly to women and children, and, if necessary, draw sword in their defence against those who would ill use them. And, though the spoils of war were honourable and necessary, when captured in fair fight, yet the oppression and robbery of the poor were deadly crimes.
"'Comport yourself always, Roger, as if, though a soldier in arms, you were still a monk at heart. You are brave and strong, and may rise to some honour; but, whether or no, you may bear yourself as if you were of gentle blood, and wore knightly spurs. Not all who are so are honourable and merciful, as they have vowed to be. Remember, I shall hear of you from time to time, through my Lord Percy; and that it will gladden me to have a good account of you, and to feel that I have not done wrong in letting you go forth, from this house of rest, to take part in the turmoil and strife of the world.'
"He said more than this, but this is the pith of it. I knelt down, and swore that I would strive, to the utmost in my power, to do as he bade me; and he put his hands on my head, and bade me go in peace; and I tell you, I mean to prove to him that his words have not been in vain."
Two days later, Oswald started with Roger, and rode to Warkworth Castle, some ten miles away; bearing an order to the governor to add Roger to the strength of the garrison, telling him that he had shown himself to be a brave soldier, and a skilful one, and that he could place confidence in him, and appoint him to any sub-command that might become vacant.
On the way, they entered a wood. Here Roger took off his monastic garb, and clad himself in armour such as was worn by the garrison of Alnwick. The monk's clothes were made up into a bundle, and left in the wood, Oswald saying:
"I will carry them back with me, on my return, Roger. It may be that they may come in useful, yet, if you and I travel together again in the Percys' service."
A month passed, and then the Earl of March came, by sea, to Alnwick. Douglas and the regent had marched against him with an overwhelming force; and, as they were both personal enemies, he knew that his fate would be sealed if he fell into their hands, and he had therefore been driven to declare himself, openly, as a vassal of the English king.
On the day after his arrival he happened to be in Hotspur's room, when Oswald entered.
"Ah! ah!" he said, "This is your messenger, Percy.
"You left me with scant notice, sir."
And he smiled.
"I was forced to do so, my lord earl; for, in truth, I was not sure that you would not prevent me from following my lord's orders, to return after seeing you."
"You were right. In the first place, I was not sure that you were a true messenger; and in the second place, I feared that you might, on return, fall into the hands of the Douglases; who would speedily find means to wring from you an account of your mission. Therefore, I thought that it were best that you should tarry a while with me, at Dunbar.
"The young fellow has a good head, Lord Percy, and is as hard to hold as a wildcat. I put the matter of watching him into the hands of two or three of my men, whose wits I have tried more than once, and know them to be among the most trustworthy of my followers. This lad, however, outwitted them. How, they have never been able to explain; but my fellows were found, trussed up like fowls for roasting, in an alley into which they had been thrown; having, as they declared, been knocked down by a giant fellow, who sprung from they knew not where, just as they were about to lay hands upon your messenger. After they had vanished, none had seen him pass the walls, and we judged that he must have started in a craft that sailed up the Forth. Fearing that, if they landed, he might speedily fall into the hands of Douglas, I sent a vessel in chase; but they missed him, and indeed, from that time to this I knew not, save by your letter to me, whether he had reached here safely."
After a short stay, the Earl of March was about to return to Dunbar; when he heard that the king, himself, was coming north with an army for the invasion of Scotland, and would then confer with him, and consider the terms on which he proposed to transfer his allegiance to him. A month later the king arrived at Alnwick, and there George Dunbar, Earl of March, entered into an agreement with him; in which he renounced all fealty to the King of Scotland, in consideration for which he was granted an estate in Lincolnshire, and other revenues. It was also agreed that the subjects of the King of England should support the earl, in time of necessity; and should be supported by him, and received into his fortresses.
He was not, now, in a position to render any very efficient aid to the king; for Robert Maitland, his nephew, to whom he had committed the castle of Dunbar, had been summoned by Douglas, who had marched there with a strong force, by order of the king, and had surrendered the stronghold to him. However, he brought Dunbar's wife and family, and a considerable force of his retainers, safely across the border.
He and Percy, together, then made a raid into the Douglas territory; and penetrated as far as Haddington, and collected much spoil from the country round. Douglas, however, came suddenly upon them in great force, and they were obliged to retreat hastily across the frontier again, abandoning their baggage and booty.
The king's invasion was no more satisfactory. The Earl of March was unable to place Dunbar in his hands; and, as the Scots declined battle in the open, he laid siege to Edinburgh, but without success. Dunbar being closed to him, he was unable to obtain provisions, and was forced to fall back to England, having accomplished nothing.
During his invasion, he had shown much more leniency than had been the custom with his predecessors. He had taken what was necessary to support the army, but had abstained from wasting the country, destroying villages and towns, and slaughtering the country people; and, so far from embittering the animosity between the two nations, he had produced a better state of feeling; and a truce was, in consequence, concluded for a year, at Kelso, by special commissioners from both kings, on the 21st of December, 1400.
Oswald Forster had not been present when, in June, 1400, the king arrived at Alnwick. A few days after the coming of the Earl of March, Hotspur received a letter from Sir Edmund Mortimer, the brother of his wife; asking him to send a body of men-at-arms, under an experienced captain who could aid him to drill newly-raised levies; for that one Owen Glendower had taken up arms against the Lord Grey de Ruthyn, and that turbulent men were flocking to his standard, and it was feared that serious trouble might ensue. Percy was in a position to send but few men, for with war with the Scotch imminent, he could not weaken himself by sending off a large force. However, he sent for Alwyn Forster.
"I need twenty picked men, for the service of Sir Edmund Mortimer, Alwyn. I would send more, were it not for the position of affairs here. What say you to taking the command of them?"
"I would gladly do so, my lord, if it be that there is a chance of something more lively than drilling hinds, and turning them into men-at-arms, which has been my business for years now, without a chance of striking a blow in earnest."
"I think that there will be a certainty of fighting, Alwyn. The Welshmen are growing troublesome again, and Sir Edmund thinks that there may be tough work, on the Welsh marches, and has written to me for aid.
"With the king coming hither, there is a chance that the Earl of March, and myself, will open the war by harrying the Douglas's lands. I can spare no great force, but even twenty tried men-at-arms would, no doubt, be welcome. As the king is going to march into Scotland, there is no fear that there will be any serious invasion by the Scots, and therefore you can be spared for a while. I think not that any of my knights would care to go in command of so small an array, but I thought that you might like to take it."
"I shall be right glad to do so, my lord."
"I shall send your nephew with you. He is a shrewd and gallant young fellow, and I know he would far rather be taking part in active service, against the Welsh, than spending his time in idleness, here. He has been too long used to a life on horseback to rest contented to be cooped up in a castle. Besides, there will be a good opportunity of distinguishing himself, and of learning something of a warfare even wilder, and more savage, than that in these northern marches."
"I should like much to have him with me, my lord. Methinks that he has the making of a right good knight; and, young as he is, I am sure that his head is better than mine, and I should not be too proud to take counsel of him, if needs be."
"That is settled then, Alwyn. Choose your men, and set off tomorrow morning. Ralph Peyton, your lieutenant, shall take the command of the garrison until you return."
Oswald was delighted when his uncle told him of the mission with which he was charged, and that he himself was to accompany him.
"You are to have the choice of the men-at-arms, Uncle?"
"Yes, Oswald. I know what you are going to say. You would like to have that mad monk of yours, as one of them."
"That should I, Uncle. You have no stouter man-at-arms in all your band, and he has proved that he can be discreet when he chooses, and did me good service in my last expedition."
"Very well, lad, we will take him. I will send one of the men over, at once, for him to join us on the road tomorrow. I shall choose young and active fellows, of whom we have plenty. I have never fought against the Welsh; but they are light footed, and agile, and their country is full of hills and swamps. The older men would do as good service here, were the castle besieged in our absence; of which, however, there is but slight chance; but for work against the Welsh, they would be of little use."
Hotspur himself spoke to Oswald, that evening.
"Here is a missive to give to Sir Edmund Mortimer. I have commended you to him, telling him that, though young, there is not one of my squires in whom I could more implicitly trust; and that you had carried out a delicate mission for me, with rare discretion and courage. Your uncle, as an old retainer, and a good fighter, and the captain of my garrison, goes in command of the men-at-arms, and in regular fighting one could need no better officer; but in such warfare as that against the Welsh is like to be, yours will be the better head to plan, and as my squire you will represent me. I have specially commended you to him, as one always to be depended upon."
"I am greatly beholden to your lordship," Oswald said, "and will try to justify the commendations that you have given me."
At daybreak on the following morning, the little party rode out from the castle. Oswald with his uncle rode in front; the former in the highest spirits, while the sturdy old soldier was himself scarce less pleased, at this change from the monotony of life in garrison.
"Years seem to have fallen off my shoulders, lad," he said, "and I feel as young as I did when I fought at Otterburn."
"That was a bad business, Uncle; and I trust that no such misfortune as that will befall us, this time."
"I hope not, indeed, Oswald. It was a sore fight, and we are scarce likely to have a pitched battle with these Welsh carls. They fight not much in our fashion, as I have heard; but dash down from their hills, and carry fire and sword through a district, and are off again before a force can be gathered to strike a blow. Then there are marches to and fro among their hills, but it is like chasing a will-o'-the-wisp; and like enough, just when you think you have got them cooped up, and prepare to strike a heavy blow, they are a hundred miles away, plundering and ravaging on our side of the frontier. They are half-wild men, short in stature, and no match for us when it comes to hand-to-hand fighting; but broad in the shoulder, tireless, and active as our shaggy ponies, and well-nigh as untamable. 'Tis fighting in which there is little glory, and many hard knocks to be obtained; but it is a good school for war. It teaches a man to be ever watchful and on his guard, prepared to meet sudden attacks, patient under difficulties; and, what is harder, to be able to go without eating or drinking for a long time, for they say that you might as well expect to find corn and ale on the crest of the Grampians, as you would on the Welsh hills."
"The prospect doesn't look very pleasant, Uncle," Oswald laughed. "However, their hills can scarcely be more barren than ours, nor can they be quicker on the stroke than the border raiders; and for such work, we of the northern marches have proved far more useful than the beefy men of the south."
"No doubt, no doubt; and maybe that, for that reason, Sir Edmund prayed Hotspur to send a detachment to his aid; for he would know that we are accustomed to a country as rough, and to a foe as active as he has now to meet.
"I wonder what has stirred up the Welsh now, knowing as they do that, although they may gain successes at first, it always ends in the harrying of their lands, and the burning of their castles and villages. They have been quiet for some years. But they are always like a swarm of bees. They will work, quietly enough, till they take offence at something; then they will pour out in a fury, attacking all they come across, and caring nothing about death, so that they can but prick an enemy with their stings. Maybe it is the report that the king is engaging in another Scotch war, and they think that it is a good time to gather spoil from their neighbours. They used to be mightily given to warring among themselves, but of late I have heard but little of this.
"It is a hundred years, now, since they were really troublesome, and rose under Morgan ap Madoc; and Edward the Second had himself to reduce them to submission, and build strong castles at Conway, Beaumaris, and other places. There have been one or two partial risings, since then, but nothing of much consequence. It may well be that the present generation, who have not themselves felt the power of English arms, may have decided to make another stroke for independence; and if so, it will need more than Mortimer's force, or that of the other border barons, to bring them to reason; and as for our little detachment, it will be but a drop in the ocean. However, it may be that this is a mere quarrel, between Mortimer and some of his neighbours.
"I have heard somewhat of the Welshman Owen Glendower, who lives in those parts. He has a grievance against Lord Grey of Ruthyn; who, as he says, unjustly seized a small estate of his. I know that he petitioned Parliament for redress, but that his petition was lately refused."
"'Tis strange that such a man should have known enough of English law to have made a petition to our parliament."
"Yes; but he is no common man. He went to England and studied at our universities, and even lived in the inns of court, and learned the laws of this country. Then, strangely enough, he became an esquire in the household of King Richard, and did good service to him; and when the court was broken up, on Richard being dethroned, he went away to his estate in Wales. Since then I have not heard of him, save as to this dispute with Lord Grey and his petition to Parliament thereon; but men who were at Richard's court have told me that he was a courteous gentleman, of excellent parts and, it was said, of much learning."
"Such a man might be a formidable enemy," Oswald said; "and if he has been robbed by Lord Grey, he might well head an insurrection, to recover his estates from that noble."
In the course of their ride they were joined by Roger, who warmly thanked Alwyn for having selected him as one of his band. The other soldiers received him heartily, for the fighting monk had been a familiar personage at Alnwick, and his mighty strength and jovial disposition rendered him very popular among the soldiers of the garrison. There had been general satisfaction among them, when it was known that he had laid aside his monk's gown, and had become one of the Percys' men-at-arms; and there had been many expressions of regret that he had been sent off, instead of forming one of the garrison of Alnwick. Two or three of them addressed him, as usual, as monk, but he said:
"Look here, comrades, I have been a monk, and a bad one, and the less said about it the better. I am no longer a monk, but a man-at-arms; and as I am not proud of my doings as a monk, I have given up the title, as I have given up the garb. Therefore I give fair notice that whosoever, in future, shall address me as monk, will feel the weight of my arm. My name is Roger, and as Roger let me be called, henceforth."
So saying, he fell into his place in the line, when the cavalcade continued their way.
The journey was a long one. Oswald had been well supplied with funds, and seldom found difficulty in obtaining lodgings for the party. The sight of an esquire, with a small troop of men-at-arms wearing the Percy cognizance, excited no curiosity as they rode south; but when they turned westward it was otherwise, and at their halting places Oswald and his uncle, who dined apart from the others, were always questioned as to their destination.
But when it was known that they were travelling to the castle of Mortimer, whose sister was the wife of their lord, none were surprised; for rumours were already current of troubles on the Welsh border; and when they entered Shropshire they heard that Owen Glendower, with a considerable force, had fallen suddenly upon the retainers of Lord Grey de Ruthyn, had killed many, and had reoccupied the estates of which he had been deprived by that nobleman.
On the fifteenth day after leaving Alnwick they arrived at Ludlow Castle, of which Mortimer was the lord. Oswald was at once conducted to the hall where the knight was sitting.
"I am bearer of a message from Sir Henry Percy," he said; "he has sent hither a party of twenty men-at-arms, under the command of the captain of his garrison, at Alnwick."
"I had hoped for more," the knight said, taking the missive and opening it; "but I can understand that, now the king is marching against Scotland, Percy cannot spare troops to despatch so long a distance. I trust that he and my sister, his wife, and the earl are in good health?"
"I left them so, sir."
The knight read Hotspur's letter.
"He speaks in terms of high commendation of you, young sir," he said, as he laid the letter down on the table. "Such commendation is rarely bestowed on one so young. I marvelled somewhat, when you entered, that Sir Henry Percy should have sent so young a squire; but from what he says, I doubt not that his choice is a good one; and indeed, it is plain that your muscles have had rare exercise, and that you can stand fatigue and hardship better than many older men. It is like that you will have your share, for the whole border seems to be unsettled. You have heard that this Glendower has boldly attacked, and driven out, Lord Grey's retainers from the estates he had taken.
"As to the rights of that matter, I have nought to say. Lord Grey manages the affairs with the Welsh in his own county of Denbighshire, and along the north; and I keep their eastern border, and I meddle not with his affairs, nor he with mine. I know that this Glendower is a supporter of King Richard, of whom there are many tales current; some saying that he escaped from Pomfret, and is still alive, though I doubt not that the report that he died there is true. We know that there is, in Scotland, a man whom it pleases Albany to put forward as Richard; but this, methinks, is but a device to trouble our king. Whether this Glendower believes in this man, or not, I know not; but certain it is that he would embrace any opportunity to prove his hostility to Henry, whom he professes to regard as a usurper. Whether it is on account of his holding such opinions, and foolishly giving expression to them, that Lord Grey thought fit to seize his estates I know not; nor, indeed, do I care. Now, however, that the man has taken up arms, and by force has dispossessed Lord Grey, the matter touches all of us who are responsible for the keeping of peace in the Welsh marches.
"Were it only a quarrel between Lord Grey and this man, it would matter but little; but, from all I hear, he exercises a strange influence over his countrymen, who deem that he has mysterious powers, and can call up spirits to aid him. For myself, I have never known an instance where necromancy or spirits have availed, in any way, against stout arms and good armour; but such is not, assuredly, the opinion of the unlearned, either in this country or in Wales. But these mountaineers are altogether without learning, and are full of superstitions. Even with us, a man more learned than the commonalty is deemed, by them, to dabble in the black art; and it may well be that this reputation Glendower has obtained is altogether due to the fact that he has much knowledge, whereas the people have none. However that may be, there is no doubt that the Welsh people are mostly ignorant; and that, at the call of this Glendower, men from all parts are hastening to join his banner. Even on this side of the border there are complaints that the Welsh servants are leaving, not openly and after a due termination of service, but making off at night, and without a word of warning.
"All this would seem to show that there is trouble on hand, and it behoves us to be watchful, and to hold ourselves in readiness; lest at any time they should, as in the days of old, cross the border, and carry fire and sword through Shropshire and Hereford. The royal castles in Wales could, doubtless, hold out against all attacks; but the garrisons would have to remain pent up within their walls, until succour reached them. Fortunately, most of them are situated near the sea, and could be relieved without the troops having to march through places where a heavily armed man can scarce make his way, and where these active and half-clad Welshmen can harass them, night and day, without ever giving them a chance of coming to close quarters.
"A messenger from Lord Grey arrived here, yesterday. Indeed, since the attack on his retainers, we have been in constant communication. At first he made light of the matter, and said that he should like to have the Welshman hanging from the battlements of his castle; but, during the last week, his messages have been less hopeful. Glendower had disappeared from the neighbourhood altogether, leaving a sort of proclamation to Lord Grey affixed to the door of his house; saying that, next time he heard of him, no mercy would be shown, and every man would be slain. He now says that rumours reach him of large gatherings, and that there are bonfires, nightly, on the hilltops. He doubts not that the troubles will soon be suppressed, but admits that much blood may have to be spilt, ere it is done.
"I can bear testimony to the bonfires, for from the top of the keep a dozen can be seen, any night, blazing among the hills."
"Of course, sir, your messenger, asking Lord Percy to send a body of men-at-arms here, was despatched before Glendower's attack on Lord Grey?"
"Certainly; but it is three months, now, since Parliament refused Glendower's appeal for justice against Lord Grey; and rumours have been busy, ever since. Some said that he was travelling through the valleys, accompanied by some of the harpers, who have always taken a leading part in stirring up the Welsh to insurrection. Some avow that he has retired to a fortress, and was there weaving designs for the overthrow of Lord Grey, and even of the whole of the English castles. Some say that he claims to be a descendant of Llewellyn, and the rightful king of Wales.
"There is some foundation for this, for I have talked to some of the better class of Welsh; who have, like Glendower, studied in our universities. The Welsh are, above all things, fond of long pedigrees, and can trace, or pretend to trace, the lineage of all their principal families up to Noah; and some of them admit that there is some ground for the claim Glendower is said to have made.
"Still, all these rumours make me feel uneasy. As we have had many years of quiet here, it has not been necessary to keep up more than a sufficient number of men-at-arms for the defence of this castle. I might have increased the force, for the people of these parts bear a deep animosity against the Welsh, and dread them greatly; as they may well do, from the many wrongs and outrages they have suffered at their hands. One reason why I have not taken on many men, since the talk of coming troubles began, is that, close to the border as we are, many have connections with the Welsh by business or marriage; and these, if enrolled in the garrison, might serve as spies, and give warning of any movement we might undertake. I had hoped that Percy could have spared me a hundred good men-at-arms. I would rather have had his men than others, because they have been trained in border warfare, by the constant troubles in Scotland; and would, moreover, come to me with a better heart than others, since Sir Henry's wife is my sister, and it is, therefore, almost a family quarrel upon which they have entered.
"Had I known, when I wrote, that the king was on his way north, I should have taken steps to raise my strength elsewhere, as of course Percy would have occasion to use every lance he could muster. Lord Grey has sent off a messenger to the king, begging him to denounce this fellow as an outlaw; and should he be troublesome, he himself may, after he has done with the Scots, send hither a force; for although we may hope, with the aid of the levies of the border counties, to drive back the Welsh in whatever force they may come, 'tis another thing to march into the mountains. The matter has been tried, again and again, and has always taxed the power of England to the utmost.
"'Tis of no use lamenting over spilt milk but, for my part, I regret that Parliament did not give a fair hearing to Glendower's complaint against Lord Grey. The refusal to do so was a high-handed one. It has driven this man to desperation, and has enlisted the sympathies of all Welshmen who have English neighbours; for they cannot but say, among themselves, 'If he is to be plundered and despoiled, and his complaints refused a hearing, what is to prevent our being similarly despoiled? 'Tis surely better to take up the sword, at once, and begin again the fight for our independence.'
"As it is, it may cost thousands of lives, immense efforts, and vast trouble before things are placed on their former footing.
"Doubtless, the captain of the men-at-arms you have brought is a good soldier, since Percy says that he is captain of his garrison at Alnwick!"
"He bears a high reputation in Northumberland, Sir Edmund. I may say that he is my uncle, and 'tis from his recommendation that Lord Percy, in the first place, took me into his household."
"I will go down and speak with him," the knight said. "I gave orders, as soon as I heard who had arrived, that proper entertainment should be given to all; yet it is but right that I should, myself, go down to thank them for having come so far; and to welcome their captain, whose experience will be of no small use to my own men, who have never been engaged in border war. Some have fought in France, but under conditions so different that their experience will aid them but little; save, indeed, if the Welsh grow so strong and so bold that they venture to attack this castle."
Percy's men, when the knight descended, had indeed sat down to supper with the retainers of the castle, while Alwyn was being entertained by the captain of his men-at-arms. All rose to their feet when Sir Edmund entered, but he waved his hand to them, to be seated.
"Finish your meal," he said, "and afterwards, if you will muster in the courtyard, I will inspect you, and see what stout Northumberland men Lord Percy has sent me."
He then went up to the top of the keep with Oswald, pointed out the distant hills, and told him what valleys and villages lay among them, and the direction in which such roads as there were ran. By the time they had descended, Percy's men were drawn up in the courtyard.
"This is my uncle, Captain Alwyn Forster," Oswald said, "of whom Lord Percy has written to you."
"I am glad to see so stout a soldier here," the knight said, holding out his hand to Alwyn; "and I am grateful to Lord Percy for sending, in answer to my request, one in whom he has such perfect confidence; and I specially thank you for having willingly relinquished so important a post, to head so small a following."
"I was glad to come, Sir Edmund, for I had rested so long, at Alnwick, that I longed for some brisk action, and fell gladly into my lord's view, when he requested me to come hither. I can answer for my men, for they are all picked, by myself, from among the stoutest of Sir Henry's following."
"That I can well believe," the knight said, as he looked at the twenty troopers. "Tall, strong men all; and as brave as they are strong, I doubt not. I shall be glad to have so stout a band to ride behind me, if these Welshmen break out.
"You are all accustomed to border warfare, but this differs a good deal from that in Northumberland. While the northern forays are mostly made by horsemen, it is rare that your Welshman adventures himself on horseback. But they are as active as your wild ponies, and as swift; and, if the trouble increases, they will give you plenty to do.
"I learn from your lord's letter that you will be, as usual, under pay from him while you are with me. I shall pay you as much more. 'Tis meet that, if you render me service, I should see that you are comfortable, and well contented."
There was a murmur of satisfaction among the men and, after recommending them to the care of the captain of the garrison, and bidding Alwyn speak in the name of his men, fearlessly, for anything that should be lacking, Sir Edmund left the courtyard.
The seneschal of the castle, Sir John Wyncliffe, requested Oswald to follow him. He first showed him the chamber, in one of the turrets, that he was to occupy; and then took him down to the hall, where two other knights, four esquires, and two or three pages were assembled, in readiness for the supper.
Mortimer, with his wife and two daughters, presently came down and took his place at the head of the table; at which the others sat down, in order of their rank. As a guest, Oswald was placed among the knights. Before sitting down, Sir Edmund presented him to his wife and daughters.
"This is one of Sir Henry Percy's esquires," he said, "and can give you more news of Sir Percy's wife; of whom, beyond saying that she sends her greetings to you all, Hotspur tells us nothing."
"Have you been long a member of Sir Henry Percy's household?"
"But a year, my lady."
"Hotspur speaks of him in very high terms, and says that he has rendered him great services, and that he has the highest confidence in him."
"To what family do you belong, sir?" the dame asked. "From my husband's sister, who was staying here some months since, I learned much of your northern families."
"I am the son of John Forster of Yardhope, who has the reputation of being as hard a fighter as any on the border. He is not a knight, though of fair estates; for, although Earl Percy offered him knighthood, for his services at the battle of Otterburn, he said that he preferred remaining plain John Forster, as his fathers had been before him. My mother was a daughter of Sir Walter Gillespie, and my uncle is captain of the garrison of Alnwick; and it was for his goodwill towards him, and my father, that Sir Henry appointed me one of his esquires, thinking, moreover, that I might be more useful than some, because I know every foot of the border, having relations on the Scottish side of it."
They now sat down to supper. After it was over, Sir Edmund took Oswald with him to his wife's bower.
"There," he said, "you can talk at your ease, and tell us how my sister, your mistress, is, and the children."
"Did you not say, Sir Edmund," his wife asked, "that it was the captain of his men-at-arms that Sir Hotspur sent hither, in command of the band?"
"That is so, dame."
"Then, surely, he should have been at our table."
"I asked him," Sir Edmund replied, "but he said that he would rather, with my permission, lodge with John Baldry; who is, like himself, a stout soldier, but who likes better his own society than that of the high table. He said that, except upon rare and special occasions, he always has been accustomed to take his meals alone, or with some comrades whom he could take to his room. As this is also John Baldry's habit, he prayed me to allow him to accept his invitation to share his room."
"What he says about his habits is true, my lady. I can well understand my uncle cares not for company where it would not be seemly for him to raise his voice, or to enter into a hot argument, on some point of arms."
"What were the services of which Sir Henry speaks?"
"It was a mission with which he charged me, and which involved some danger."
"By the way," Dame Mortimer said, "my sister-in-law wrote to me, some time since, telling us of a strange conflict that was held between one of the squires, and another who had been newly appointed; and who, on one of the mountain ponies, worsted his opponent, although the latter was much older, and moreover clad in full armour, and riding a heavy warhorse. Was it you who were the victor on that occasion?"
"I can scarce be said to have been the victor, my lady. It was, indeed, hardly a combat. But I maintained that one accustomed to the exercises in use among our border men, and mounted on one of our ponies, accustomed to move with great rapidity, and to turn and twist at the slightest movement of the rider's knee, would be a match for a heavy-armed knight in single combat; although a number would have no chance, against the charge of a handful of mailed knights; and Sir Henry put it to the proof, at once."