a bright, crisp winter's day when the little party set off
from bordeaux on their journey to montaubon, where the missing
half of their company had last been heard of. sir nigel and ford
had ridden on in advance, the knight upon his hackney, while his
great war-horse trotted beside his squire. two hours later
alleyne edricson followed; for he had the tavern reckoning to
settle, and many other duties which fell to him as squire of the
body. with him came aylward and hordle john, armed as of old,
but mounted for their journey upon a pair of clumsy landes
horses, heavy-headed and shambling, but of great endurance, and
capable of jogging along all day, even when between the knees of
the huge archer, who turned the scale at two hundred and seventy
pounds. they took with them the sumpter mules, which carried in
panniers the wardrobe and table furniture of sir nigel; for the
knight, though neither fop nor epicure, was very dainty in small
matters, and loved, however bare the board or hard the life, that
his napery should still be white and his spoon of silver.
there had been frost during the night, and the white hard road
rang loud under their horses' irons as they spurred through the
east gate of the town, along the same broad highway which the
unknown french champion had traversed on the day of the jousts.
the three rode abreast, alleyne edricson with his eyes cast down
and his mind distrait, for his thoughts were busy with the
conversation which he had had with sir nigel in the morning. had
he done well to say so much, or had he not done better to have
said more? what would the knight have said had he confessed to
his love for the lady maude? would he cast him off in disgrace,
or might he chide him as having abused the shelter of his roof?
it had been ready upon his tongue to tell him all when sir oliver
had broken in upon them. perchance sir nigel, with his love of
all the dying usages of chivalry, might have contrived some
strange ordeal or feat of arms by which his love should be put to
the test. alleyne smiled as he wondered what fantastic and
wondrous deed would be exacted from him. whatever it was, he was
ready for it, whether it were to hold the lists in the court of
the king of tartary, to carry a cartel to the sultan of baghdad,
or to serve a term against the wild heathen of prussia. sir
nigel had said that his birth was high enough for any lady, if
his fortune could but be amended. often had alleyne curled his
lip at the beggarly craving for land or for gold which blinded
man to the higher and more lasting issues of life. now it
seemed as though it were only by this same land and gold that he
might hope to reach his heart's desire. but then, again, the
socman of minstead was no friend to the constable of twynham
castle. it might happen that, should he amass riches by some
happy fortune of war, this feud might hold the two families
aloof. even if maude loved him, he knew her too well to think
that she would wed him without the blessing of her father. dark
and murky was it all, but hope mounts high in youth, and it ever
fluttered over all the turmoil of his thoughts like a white plume
amid the shock of horsemen.
if alleyne edricson had enough to ponder over as he rode through
the bare plains of guienne, his two companions were more busy
with the present and less thoughtful of the future. aylward rode
for half a mile with his chin upon his shoulder, looking back at
a white kerchief which fluttered out of the gable window of a
high house which peeped over the corner of the battlements. when
at last a dip of the road hid it from his view, he cocked his
steel cap, shrugged his broad shoulders, and rode on with
laughter in his eyes, and his weatherbeaten face all ashine with
pleasant memories. john also rode in silence, but his eyes
wandered slowly from one side of the road to the other, and he
stared and pondered and nodded his head like a traveller who
makes his notes and saves them up for the re-telling
"by the rood!" he broke out suddenly, slapping his thigh with his
great red hand, "i knew that there was something a-missing, but i
could not bring to my mind what it was."
"what was it then?" asked alleyne, coming with a start out of his
reverie.
"why, it is the hedgerows," roared john, with a shout of
laughter. "the country is all scraped as clear as a friar's
poll. but indeed i cannot think much of the folk in these parts.
why do they not get to work and dig up these long rows of black
and crooked stumps which i see on every hand? a franklin of
hampshire would think shame to have such litter upon his soil."
"thou foolish old john!" quoth aylward. "you should know better,
since i have heard that the monks of beaulieu could squeeze a
good cup of wine from their own grapes. know then that if these
rows were dug
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