Maid Marian Read online

  CHAPTER XV

  O knight, thou lack'st a cup of canary. When did I see thee so put down?--Twelfth Night.

  Several knocks, as from the knuckles of an iron glove, were given to thedoor of the cottage, and a voice was heard entreating shelter from thestorm for a traveller who had lost his way. Robin arose and went to thedoor.

  "What are you?" said Robin.

  "A soldier," replied the voice: "an unfortunate adherent of Longchamp,flying the vengeance of Prince John."

  "Are you alone?" said Robin.

  "Yes," said the voice: "it is a dreadful night. Hospitable cottagers,pray give me admittance. I would not have asked it but for the storm. Iwould have kept my watch in the woods."

  "That I believe," said Robin. "You did not reckon on the storm when youturned into this pass. Do you know there are rogues this way?"

  "I do," said the voice.

  "So do I," said Robin.

  A pause ensued, during which Robin listening attentively caught a faintsound of whispering.

  "You are not alone," said Robin. "Who are your companions?"

  "None but the wind and the water," said the voice, "and I would I hadthem not."

  "The wind and the water have many voices," said Robin, "but I neverbefore heard them say, What shall we do?"

  Another pause ensued: after which,

  "Look ye, master cottager," said the voice, in an altered tone, "if youdo not let us in willingly, we will break down the door."

  "Ho! ho!" roared the baron, "you are become plural are you, rascals? Howmany are there of you, thieves? What, I warrant, you thought to rob andmurder a poor harmless cottager and his wife, and did not dream of agarrison? You looked for no weapon of opposition but spit, poker, andbasting ladle, wielded by unskilful hands: but, rascals, here is shortsword and long cudgel in hands well tried in war, wherewith you shall bedrilled into cullenders and beaten into mummy."

  No reply was made, but furious strokes from without resounded upon thedoor. Robin, Marian, and the baron threw by their pilgrim's attire, andstood in arms on the defensive. They were provided with swords, and thecottager gave them bucklers and helmets, for all Robin's haunts werefurnished with secret armouries. But they kept their swords sheathed,and the baron wielded a ponderous spear, which he pointed towards thedoor ready to run through the first that should enter, and Robin andMarian each held a bow with the arrow drawn to its head and pointed inthe same direction. The cottager flourished a strong cudgel (a weaponin the use of which he prided himself on being particularly expert), andthe wife seized the spit from the fireplace, and held it as she saw thebaron hold his spear. The storm of wind and rain continued to beat onthe roof and the casement, and the storm of blows to resound upon thedoor, which at length gave way with a violent crash, and a cluster ofarmed men appeared without, seemingly not less than twelve. Behindthem rolled the stream now changed from a gentle and shallow river to amighty and impetuous torrent, roaring in waves of yellow foam, partiallyreddened by the light that streamed through the open door, and turningup its convulsed surface in flashes of shifting radiance from restlessmasses of half-visible shadow. The stepping-stones, by which theintruders must have crossed, were buried under the waters. On theopposite bank the light fell on the stems and boughs of the rock-rootedoak and ash tossing and swaying in the blast, and sweeping the flashingspray with their leaves.

  The instant the door broke, Robin and Marian loosed their arrows.Robin's arrow struck one of the assailants in the juncture of theshoulder, and disabled his right arm: Marian's struck a second in thejuncture of the knee, and rendered him unserviceable; for the night.The baron's long spear struck on the mailed breastplate of a third, andbeing stretched to its full extent by the long-armed hero, drove him tothe edge of the torrent, and plunged him into its eddies, along which hewas whirled down the darkness of the descending stream, calling vainlyon his comrades for aid, till his voice was lost in the mingled roar ofthe waters and the wind. A fourth springing through the door was laidprostrate by the cottager's cudgel: but the wife being less dexterousthan her company, though an Amazon in strength, missed her pass at afifth, and drove the point of the spit several inches into the righthand door-post as she stood close to the left, and thus made a newbarrier which the invaders could not pass without dipping under it andsubmitting their necks to the sword: but one of the assailants seizingit with gigantic rage, shook it at once from the grasp of its holderand from its lodgment in the post, and at the same time made good theirruption of the rest of his party into the cottage.

  Now raged an unequal combat, for the assailants fell two to one onRobin, Marian, the baron, and the cottager; while the wife, beingdeprived of her spit, converted every thing that was at hand to amissile, and rained pots, pans, and pipkins on the armed heads of theenemy. The baron raged like a tiger, and the cottager laid about himlike a thresher. One of the soldiers struck Robin's sword from his handand brought him on his knee, when the boy, who had been roused by thetumult and had been peeping through the inner door, leaped forward inhis shirt, picked up the sword and replaced it in Robin's hand, whoinstantly springing up, disarmed and wounded one of his antagonists,while the other was laid prostrate under the dint of a brass cauldronlaunched by the Amazonian dame. Robin now turned to the aid of Marian,who was parrying most dexterously the cuts and slashes of her twoassailants, of whom Robin delivered her from one, while a well-appliedblow of her sword struck off the helmet of the other, who fell on hisknees to beg a boon, and she recognised Sir Ralph Montfaucon. The menwho were engaged with the baron and the peasant, seeing their leadersubdued, immediately laid down their arms and cried for quarter. Thewife brought some strong rope, and the baron tied their arms behindthem.

  "Now, Sir Ralph," said Marian, "once more you are at my mercy."

  "That I always am, cruel beauty," said the discomfited lover.

  "Odso! courteous knight," said the baron, "is this the return you makefor my beef and canary, when you kissed my daughter's hand in token ofcontrition for your intermeddling at her wedding? Heart, I am glad tosee she has given you a bloody coxcomb. Slice him down, Mawd! slice himdown, and fling him into the river."

  "Confess," said Marian, "what brought you here, and how did you traceour steps?"

  "I will confess nothing," said the knight.

  "Then confess you, rascal," said the baron, holding his sword to thethroat of the captive squire.

  "Take away the sword," said the squire, "it is too near my mouth, andmy voice will not come out for fear: take away the sword, and I willconfess all." The baron dropped his sword, and the squire proceeded;"Sir Ralph met you, as you quitted Lady Falkland's castle, and byrepresenting to her who you were, borrowed from her such a number ofher retainers as he deemed must ensure your capture, seeing that yourfamiliar the friar was not at your elbow. We set forth without delay,and traced you first by means of a peasant who saw you turn into thisvalley, and afterwards by the light from the casement of this solitarydwelling. Our design was to have laid an ambush for you in the morning,but the storm and your observation of my unlucky face through thecasement made us change our purpose; and what followed you can tellbetter than I can, being indeed masters of the subject."

  "You are a merry knave," said the baron, "and here is a cup of wine foryou."

  "Gramercy," said the squire, "and better late than never: but I lacked acup of this before. Had I been pot-valiant, I had held you play."

  "Sir knight," said Marian, "this is the third time you have sought thelife of my lord and of me, for mine is interwoven with his. And do youthink me so spiritless as to believe that I can be yours by compulsion?Tempt me not again, for the next time shall be the last, and the fish ofthe nearest river shall commute the flesh of a recreant knight into thefast-day dinner of an uncarnivorous friar. I spare you now, not in pitybut in scorn. Yet shall you swear to a convention never more to pursueor molest my lord or me, and on this condition you shall live."

  The knight had no alternative but to comply, and swore, o
n the honour ofknighthood, to keep the convention inviolate. How well he kept his oathwe shall have no opportunity of narrating: Di lui la nostra istoria piunon parla.