"And what dost thou seek of me now?"
"Nothing, save the joy of removing an enemy out of my path."
"I am no man"s enemy."
"Yes, thou art mine, and always hast been. Didst thou not plot against me with that old hag, Mother Madge, whom I have sent to her master in a chariot of fire?"
"I heard her confession of that particular crime."
"So did I, through eavesdroppers. Well, thou knowest too much; and shalt never see the sun again. It is pleasant is it not--the fresh air of the green woods, the sheen of the sun, the songs of the birds, the murmur of the streams, the scent of the flowers.
"Ah, ah!--thou feelest it--well, it shall never again fall to thy lot to see, hear, and smell all these. Here shalt thou linger out thy remaining days; thy companions the toad, the eft, the spider, the beetle; and when thou diest of hunger and thirst, which will eventually be thy lot, this cell shall be thy coffin. Here shalt thou rot."
"And hence shall I rise, in that case, at the day of resurrection.
Nay, Drogo, thou canst not frighten me. I am not in thy power. Thou canst not tame the spirit. Do thy worst, I wait G.o.d"s hour."
Drogo was beside himself by rage at this language on the part of a captive, and he would have struck him down on the spot but for something in Martin that awed him, even as the keeper, who calls himself the lion king, tames the lion.
"We shall see," he said, and left the cell.
"My lord, do not harm him," said the man. "If a hand be laid upon him the men-at-arms will rebel. They fear that it will bring a curse upon them."
"The fools, what is a friar but flesh and blood like others?"
"I would sooner hang or fry a hundred wretched burghers, or behead a score of knights, than touch this friar."
"I see how it is. I must contrive to starve or poison him," thought the base lord of the castle.
As he ascended the stairs he heard the sound of a trumpet, or rather a horn. Loud cries of surprise and alarm greeted his ears.
He went out on the watch tower. The woods were alive with men: they issued out on all sides--the "merrie men" of the woods.
Drogo saw at once that they had come to seek Martin. He took hold of a white flag, and advanced to the tower above the central gateway--to parley--for he feared the arrows of the marksmen of the woods.
"Whom seek ye?"
"One whom thou hast wrongfully imprisoned. The friar Martin."
"I have not got him here."
"But thou hast, and we have come to claim him."
"Choose three of your number. They may come and confer with me in the castle upon his disappearance. G.o.d forbid that I should lay hands on His ministers."
"Dost thou pledge thy honour for their safety?"
"Do ye doubt my honour? Oh, well; so ye may well do, if ye think I would have touched brother Martin."
He was so plausible that they were ashamed of their distrust, and selected three of their foremost men, who forthwith entered.
The gates were shut behind them.
And then, oh, shame to say! They were seized from behind, their arms bound behind their backs, and, in spite of their protests, led out on the watch tower, where was a permanent gibbet, and, in sight of all their comrades, hung over the battlements.
"That is how my honour bids me treat with outlaws," laughed Drogo.
A flight of arrows was the reply, which penetrated every crevice, and made six troopers stretch their bodies on the ground.
"Keep under cover," shouted Drogo. "There will be a fine gathering of arrows when all is done, and it will be long before these old walls crave for mercy. Keep up your courage, men. The fools have no means of besieging the place, and ere another sun has set, the royal banner will appear for their dispersion and our deliverance."
For he had heard from a sure hand that the royal army had reached Tunbridge, en route for Lewes, and would pa.s.s by Walderne, tarrying, perchance, for the night. Hence his daring defiance of the sons of the soil.
Chapter 23: Saved As By Fire.
And all this time the true heir of Walderne was leading the degraded life of an unhappy and most miserable slave in the palace of the "Old Man of the Mountain," in the far off hills of Lebanon.
The six months pa.s.sed away, and still they spared our Hubert.
Others were taken away and met their most doleful fate, but the more youthful and active slaves were spared awhile, not out of pity, but because of their utility; and Hubert"s fine const.i.tution enabled him still to live. But he could not have lived on had he not still hoped. The tremendous inscription seen by the poet over the sombre gate of h.e.l.l was not yet burnt into his young heart: All ye that enter here, leave hope behind.
Some lucky accident, perhaps an invasion of the crusaders, might deliver him; but otherwise he would not despair while G.o.d gave him life. Again, irreligious as some may think his former life, he had great belief in the efficacy of the prayers of others. The thought that his father and Martin were praying for him continually gave him comfort.
"G.o.d will hear them, if not me," he thought.
Yet he did really learn to pray for himself more earnestly than he would once have thought possible.
But when a year had nearly pa.s.sed away in the wearying bondage, he was summoned to the presence of the "Old Man."
"Christian," said the latter, "hast thou not borne the heat and burden of slavery long enough?"
"Long enough, indeed, my lord, but I cannot buy my liberty at the expense of my faith."
"Not when the alternative is a bitter death?"
"No."
"Thy constancy will be tried. We have borne with thee full long. At next full moon thou wilt have had a year"s reprieve. Thou must prepare to worship the true G.o.d and acknowledge His prophet, or die."
"My choice is made."
"Thy time shall come at the close of the year. Go."
And Hubert was led away.
And now he was tempted to yield to despair, when he was sustained by what may be called a miraculous interposition.
It was dark night and he lay in his cell, the watchmen without, the yet more watchful dogs prowling and growling around; when all at once he heard footsteps approaching his wretched bed chamber.