other side lay a
strip of vineyard, and beyond it the desolate and sandy region of
the landes, all tangled with faded gorse and heath and broom,
stretching away in unbroken gloom to the blue hills which lay low
upon the furthest sky-line. behind them might still be seen the
broad estuary of the gironde, with the high towers of saint andre
and saint remi shooting up from the plain. in front, amid
radiating lines of poplars, lay the riverside townlet of
cardillac--gray walls, white houses, and a feather of blue smoke.
"this is the 'mouton d'or,' " said aylward, as they pulled up
their horses at a whitewashed straggling hostel. "what ho
there!" he continued, beating upon the door with the hilt of his
sword. "tapster, ostler, varlet, hark hither, and a wannion on
your lazy limbs! ha! michel, as red in the nose as ever! three
jacks of the wine of the country, michel--for the air bites
shrewdly. i pray you, alleyne, to take note of this door, for i
have a tale concerning it."
"tell me, friend," said alleyne to the portly red-faced inn-
keeper, "has a knight and a squire passed this way within the
hour?"
"nay, sir, it would be two hours back. was he a small man, weak
in the eyes, with a want of hair, and speaks very quiet when he
is most to be feared?"
"the same," the squire answered. "but i marvel how you should
know how he speaks when he is in wrath, for he is very gentle-
minded with those who are beneath him."
"praise to the saints! it was not i who angered him," said the
fat michel.
"who, then?"
"it was young sieur de crespigny of saintonge, who chanced to be
here, and made game of the englishman, seeing that he was but a
small man and hath a face which is full of peace. but indeed
this good knight was a very quiet and patient man, for he saw
that the sieur de crespigny was still young and spoke from an
empty head, so he sat his horse and quaffed his wine, even as you
are doing now, all heedless of the clacking tongue." and what
then, michel?"
"well, messieurs, it chanced that the sieur de crespigny, having
said this and that, for the laughter of the varlets, cried out at
last about the glove that the knight wore in his coif, asking if
it was the custom in england for a man to wear a great archer's
glove in his cap. pardieu! i have never seen a man get off his
horse as quick as did that stranger englishman. ere the words
were past the other's lips he was beside him, his face nigh
touching, and his breath hot upon his cheeks. 'i think, young
sir,' quoth he softly, looking into the other's eyes, 'that now
that i am nearer you will very clearly see that the glove is not
an archer's glove.' 'perchance not,' said the sieur de crespigny
with a twitching lip. 'nor is it large, but very small,' quoth
the englishman. 'less large than i had thought,' said the other,
looking down, for the knight's gaze was heavy upon his eyelids.
'and in every way such a glove as might be worn by the fairest
and sweetest lady in england,' quoth the englishman. 'it may be
so,' said the sieur de crespigny, turning his face from him. 'i
am myself weak in the eyes, and have often taken one thing for
another,' quoth the knight, as he sprang back into his saddle and
rode off, leaving the sieur de crespigny biting his nails before
the door. ha! by the five wounds, many men of war have drunk my
wine, but never one was more to my fancy than this little
englishman."
"by my hilt! he is our master, michel," quoth aylward, "and such
men as we do not serve under a laggart. but here are four
deniers, michel, and god be with you! en avant, camarades! for
we have a long road before us."
at a brisk trot the three friends left cardillac and its wine-
house behind them, riding without a halt past st. macaire, and on
by ferry over the river dorpt. at the further side the road
winds through la reolle, bazaille, and marmande, with the sunlit
river still gleaming upon the right, and the bare poplars
bristling up upon either side. john and alleyne rode silent on
either side, but every inn, farm-steading, or castle brought back
to aylward some remembrance of love, foray, or plunder, with
which to beguile the way.
"there is the smoke from bazas, on the further side of garonne,"
quoth he. "there were three sisters yonder, the daughters of a
farrier, and, by these ten finger-bones! a man might ride for a
long june day and never set eyes upon such maidens. there was
marie, tall and grave, and blanche petite and gay, and the dark
agnes, with eyes that went through you like a waxed arrow. i
lingered there as long as four days, and was betrothed to them
all; for it seemed shame to set one above her sisters, and might
make ill blood in the family. yet, for all my care, things were
not merry in the house, and i thought it well to come away.
there,
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