ght more weighty than a psalm-verse. you have clean overshot
the butts this time, mon camarade. give it to the little one. i
will wager my feather-bed that he makes more sense of it."
"why, it is written in the french tongue," said alleyne, "and in
a right clerkly hand. this is how it runs: 'a le moult puissant
et moult honorable chevalier, sir nigel loring de christchurch,
de son tres fidele amis sir claude latour, capitaine de la
compagnie blanche, chatelain de biscar, grand seigneur de
montchateau, vavaseurde le renomme gaston, comte de foix, tenant
les droits de la haute justice, de la milieu, et de la basse.'
which signifies in our speech: 'to the very powerful and very
honorable knight, sir nigel loring of christchurch, from his very
faithful friend sir claude latour, captain of the white company,
chatelain of biscar, grand lord of montchateau and vassal to the
renowed gaston, count of foix, who holds the rights of the high
justice, the middle and the low.' "
"look at that now!" cried the bowman in triumph. "that is just
what he would have said."
"i can see now that it is even so," said john, examining the
parchment again. "though i scarce understand this high, middle
and low."
"by my hilt! you would understand it if you were jacques
bonhomme. the low justice means that you may fleece him, and the
middle that you may torture him, and the high that you may slay
him. that is about the truth of it. but this is the letter
which i am to take; and since the platter is clean it is time
that we trussed up and were afoot. you come with me, mon gros
jean; and as to you, little one, where did you say that you
journeyed?"
"to minstead."
"ah, yes. i know this forest country well, though i was born
myself in the hundred of easebourne, in the rape of chichester,
hard by the village of midhurst. yet i have not a word to say
against the hampton men, for there are no better comrades or
truer archers in the whole company than some who learned to loose
the string in these very parts. we shall travel round with you
to minstead lad, seeing that it is little out of our way."
"i am ready," said alleyne, right pleased at the thought of such
company upon the road.
"so am not i. i must store my plunder at this inn, since the
hostess is an honest woman. hola! ma cherie, i wish to leave
with you my gold-work, my velvet, my silk, my feather bed, my
incense-boat, my ewer, my naping linen, and all the rest of it.
i take only the money in a linen bag, and the box of rose colored
sugar which is a gift from my captain to the lady loring. wilt
guard my treasure for me?"
"it shall be put in the safest loft, good archer. come when you
may, you shall find it ready for you."
"now, there is a true friend!" cried the bowman, taking her hand.
"there is a bonne amie! english land and english women, say i,
and french wine and french plunder. i shall be back anon, mon
ange. i am a lonely man, my sweeting, and i must settle some day
when the wars are over and done. mayhap you and i----ah,
mechante, mechante! there is la petite peeping from behind the
door. now, john, the sun is over the trees; you must be brisker
than this when the bugleman blows 'bows and bills.' "
"i have been waiting this time back," said hordle john gruffly.
"then we must be off. adieu, ma vie! the two livres shall
settle the score and buy some ribbons against the next kermesse.
do not forget sam aylward, for his heart shall ever be thine
alone--and thine, ma petite! so, marchons, and may st. julian
grant us as good quarters elsewhere!"
the sun had risen over ashurst and denny woods, and was shining
brightly, though the eastern wind had a sharp flavor to it, and
the leaves were flickering thickly from the trees. in the high
street of lyndhurst the wayfarers had to pick their way, for the
little town was crowded with the guardsmen, grooms, and yeomen
prickers who were attached to the king's hunt. the king himself
was staying at castle malwood, but several of his suite had been
compelled to seek such quarters as they might find in the wooden
or wattle-and-daub cottages of the village. here and there a
small escutcheon, peeping from a glassless window, marked the
night's lodging of knight or baron. these coats-of-arms could be
read, where a scroll would be meaningless, and the bowman, like
most men of his age, was well versed in the common symbols of
heraldry.
"there is the saracen's head of sir bernard brocas," quoth he.
"i saw him last at the ruffle at poictiers some ten years back,
when he bore himself like a man. he is the master of the king's
horse, and can sing a right jovial stave, though in that he
cannot come nigh to sir john chandos, who is first at the board
or in the saddle. three martlets on a field azure, that must be
one of the l
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