"No, sir," replied the man.
"But a short distance from where we left the wood, I marked this tower on our left, and, certes, we have been walking round and round for half the night."
"Then we must needs set out once more?"
"Nay. This will suffice for the present, and here we"ll rest till daylight comes and the storm spends itself. The door is not barred, I hope."
Walking slowly round the mill, the knight felt for the opening, till he stumbled over a low stone step. Cautiously ascending, he found at the fourth step a flat ledge, protected by a broken rail, and here was the door hanging by a solitary rusted hinge.
[Ill.u.s.tration: TREACHERY AFOOT]
Yielding to the pressure of his shoulder, the door flew open, and the knight and his companion carefully groped their way in, closing the door after them. Here, in absolute blackness, they found shelter, the storm howling wildly outside, yet scarcely to be heard within the ma.s.sive stone walls. They had no means of procuring a light, but by continuing their investigations they felt a pile of broken hurdles and the lower-most rungs of a ladder.
Raymond was about to ascend, when his servant laid a detaining hand upon his arm. "Hist!" he exclaimed. "Some one moves in the room above."
"Nay, thou dreamest! . . . Ay, thou art right! Hide here, quickly. Art armed?"
"Nought but a knife."
""Twill suffice. Now, hold thyself in readiness, but act not till I give the word."
Crouching behind the pile of hurdles, knight and servant waited in breathless silence. There was the sound of a heavy trap-door being raised, and a voice exclaimed in French: "Is it thou, Jehan?"
Receiving no reply, the questioner slowly descended a few steps of the ladder, and drawing a horn lantern from underneath a cloak, swung it around him, peering about the room.
Then, perceiving no one, he muttered: "Mon Dieu! It is but fancy, yet why doth he tarry?" And again concealing the light, he ascended to the upper story and dropped the trap-hatch with a resounding thud.
"There"s fell treachery afoot," whispered Raymond. "Dost know who it is?"
""Tis Rene de Caux, of the following of the Captal de Buche, our King"s trusted favourite. Wait patiently, for ere long no little advancement will be gained."
Silently the Englishmen waited, every fiercer blast of the storm causing them to imagine that the expected visitor had arrived. At last they heard the door pushed open, and a dark form made its way into the room with a confidence gained by long practice. A low whistle, like the cry of a night-bird, and the trapdoor was again removed.
"Ah, Jehan! "Tis thou at last! Close the door ere I show a light."
"A thousand pests take the weather. This storm hath all but been my undoing."
The light of the lantern shone upon the face of the new arrival. He was a tall, slender man, with light hair and refined features, and on removing his sodden cloak a garment of slashed velvet was revealed, betokening that the wearer was a gentleman of quality. Armour he wore none, but a light sword hung from his belt, balanced by a large leather bag.
"And how fares Sir John de Vienne?"
"Strong in courage when last I saw him."
"And that was----?"
"But yesternight."
"And he agreed to allow you to poison the wells?"
"Nay, by Our Lady, he would not."
"Well spoken, like a brave and gallant knight, for, by St. Denis, the plan is not to my liking even though these insolent islanders deserve all that is evil. But, see here! This letter must be given to the Governor of the town by to-morrow, though, alas! it is cold comfort to Sir John. Canst arrange to deliver it?"
"They will admit me by the postern of the Boulogne Gate at midnight.
"Twill be done."
"Then take thy reward. Hold the light closer while I count, for I know a Gascon of old! See to it: all bright crowns, of good weight."
The Frenchman addressed as Jehan handed a sealed doc.u.ment to the Gascon, who placed it in his doublet; then, setting the lantern on the ground and extending his hand, the latter counted the coins as Jehan took them from his wallet.
Loosening his poignard and motioning to Thompson to draw his knife, Raymond prepared to spring from his hiding-place.
Ere the two conspirators could recover from their astonishment the young knight had leapt upon them, and with one thrust of his weapon laid the traitorous Gascon dead at his feet. Instinctively the Frenchman sprang backwards and whipped out his sword.
"Yield thee!" thundered Raymond.
"To no man!"
In an instant their blades met, the dull light of the lantern flashing on the glittering steel. Though Jehan had the longer weapon, he possessed neither the strength nor the skill of his antagonist, and in less than half a minute"s swordplay the Frenchman"s blade caught in the notch that the hilt of most poignards possess, and with a quick, powerful turn of the wrist Raymond snapped the sword off close to the guard.
"Now wilt yield?"
"If thou art a gentleman I will; if not, pa.s.s the dagger through me rather than let me disgrace myself."
"I am Sir Raymond Revyngton, knight."
"Then, Sir Raymond, I yield myself to thee; though I pray thee, certify my master that I fought well ere I yielded."
"And thy name and quality?"
"I am Jehan de Sous-Cahors, seneschal de Vimereux, and of the household of King Philip."
"Then I have had great honour in taking thee!" said Raymond with due courtesy. "And now have I thy promise that there shall be no attempt at escape? Otherwise, though it grieve me to mishandle a knight, thou must be brought bound into the camp."
"I swear, by St. Denis."
The grey dawn was beginning to break, and the storm was dying away.
Raymond looked out of the door, and saw with great satisfaction the knight"s horse stabled in a small adjoining hut that had been invisible on the previous night. There in the distance the smoke of the English camp-fires showed distinctly in the now clear air, while less than a bowshot from the mill lay the wood that had been the cause of their misfortune.
Suddenly the young knight heard the sound of scuffling and Thompson"s voice shouting "Help, master, help!"
Darting back to the room, he found his servant engaged in a desperate struggle with the captive, who was endeavouring to destroy the letter he had entrusted to the double-dealing Gascon, a portion of which he had attempted to swallow.
With no gentle hand Raymond aided his man to throw the prisoner on his back and wrench the missive from him.
"Thy parole, Sir Knight!" he exclaimed.
"----has been kept," gasped the captive, "but I trow thou wilt admit that no farther compact was made. I am foiled in this matter, but I pray thee, of thy courtesy, give me leave to finish my work and destroy this missive."