CHAPTER XVII.
The opening of the door of the hall startled Iola from her slumber; and when she found where her head had been resting, a bright warm blush spread over her fair face. Though the lamp was by this time glimmering low, the form and face of the woodman were instantly recognized by all the party in the hall; and an expression of gladness came over all their faces. He was instantly assailed by many questions which he could not answer; but he told all he knew; and one piece of information was at all events satisfactory to both Chartley and Iola, namely, that the bishop had escaped. "There," he continued, setting down the food and wine which he carried, "there is something to refresh you, young people, though good sooth, lady, I thought you were by this time safe within the walls of the abbey, and would rather it had been so."
"And so would I," answered Iola, though, perhaps, her heart was at that moment a little doubtful; "but it could not be, Boyd, for the door in the cell was closed when I went back--I fancy the bishop had let it slip from his hand--and I could not return to the abbey without passing through the midst of the armed men. Then as I was hurrying towards your cottage for shelter and protection, I met with this noble Lord, who told me the soldiers were upon the road----"
"And proved a pleasanter protector than an old woodman, I doubt not," replied Boyd, with a cynical smile.
Iola's face reddened again; but she replied frankly: "a noble, a kind, and a generous one certainly, to whom I shall ever feel indebted."
"One does not choose in a thunderstorm, my good friend," said Chartley, in his usual gay tone, "whether one will take refuge in a palace or a hermitage. The nearest place at hand is the best; and this fair lady, I doubt not, cared not much whether it was a lord or a woodman that came to her aid, so that she got help at need. But now let us think of what is to be done. Morning will soon be here, and some course of action must be determined."
"What course do you propose?" asked Boyd.
"Nay, I know not," answered Chartley. "The only thing I can think of is to take the lady by the hand, and walk straight through these men back to the abbey with her. They cannot prove me to be a bishop, nor her either, I suppose."
The woodman mused, and then, pointing to the provisions, he said, "Eat and drink, eat and drink; you can do that and think too--They cannot prove either of you to be the bishop. I wish you were anything so good; but they can, perhaps, prove that you have, both of you, helped the bishop; and they can make treason out of that, I doubt not, after the proclamation. 'Tis an awkward case," he continued; "but if you wait awhile, the piper will bring us intelligence. The best spies in the world are pipers, horse-doctors, and mendicant friars. Perhaps the tidings he brings may save you the trouble of decision."
"That is always something gained," replied Chartley; "for decision is sometimes the hardest work we have to do; but yet I think any plan may be the best after all; for they can prove but little against me, and nothing against this sweet lady. They can but suppose that I am conducting her back to the abbey from some visit or expedition, with which they have nought to do."
"Ha!" exclaimed the woodman, sternly; "thou would'st not risk her name and fair fame, young lord? Some visit! What, in this garb, without coif, or veil, or mantle--on foot, with no attendants? No, no. If she were to be met and questioned, she must e'en tell the truth, for to suffer prison, or to lose life itself, were such a thing probable, were but light to a taint upon her name."
"And who would dare utter such an insinuation in my presence?" exclaimed Chartley, his eye flashing at the thought. "By Heaven, if any man did, I would cram it down his throat with my sword."
"So hot!" said the woodman, with a laugh. "If they did not utter it in your presence, they might utter it behind your back, which were as bad. They might say--and how could you deny it?--that this lady had been out of the abbey with you, roaming about no one knew whither, without motive, without cause, without excuse. No, no! That will not do. Lord Chartley cannot fight or frighten two hundred men; and they will have a reason for all this, depend upon it. If not, they'll make one. 'Tis most unlucky that I knew not of these events before, or I would have found means to send to the abbey, and have the door from the cell opened; but it is now too late, I fear, and, at all events, we must wait for further intelligence. But fear not, lady, fear not. We will find resources, which are many here, though not quite so plentiful as the acorns on the trees."
"I am not afraid," answered Iola. "The king, I do not think, would kill me for guiding the bishop into the wood."
"But he might prevent your marrying the man of your heart," answered the woodman, with one of his grim smiles.
Iola's colour rose a little; but she replied boldly: "I have no man of my heart, Boyd; and therefore he could not do that either."
Chartley's eye had turned rapidly to Iola's face, as the woodman spoke, with an anxious and inquiring look; but her frank reply seemed to relieve him, and he said, gaily: "Nevertheless, we must not risk anything where there is risk to you, dear lady. Methinks you are one who would find even gesses of silk or gold cord difficult to wear; and we must give Richard no excuse for putting them on, if we can help it."
"Women are born to wear gesses of some kind or another, noble lord," replied Iola; "and unhappy is the woman who cannot, content herself with them; but I trust you will consult your own safety without heeding mine."
"Not I, in faith!" answered Chartley, in a determined tone. "I will see you back to the abbey, and safe in the hands of your friends, come what will--that is to say, if I have power to do so. They may take my life or my liberty, but no man has power to make me break my word, or fail in my devoir."
"Well, well," said the woodman; "let us think of these things no more. Come, take some bread, good friend," he continued, speaking to the Arab. "There is salt in it, and you can e'en taste the bottle too, I dare say, for you cannot tell what are the contents."
He then leaned his head upon his hand, as he lay stretched out by the fire, and seemed to fall asleep, while Iola and Chartley conversed in low tones. But, though his eyes were closed, it was not with slumber; and at length, after an hour or somewhat more had passed, he and the Arab both started up at once, the woodman exclaiming: "Hark! there is our messenger! Come forth with me, my lord, and meet him. Your trusty infidel can stay and protect the lady."
Chartley followed at once, and the woodman strode rapidly across the court, but suddenly stopped, under the old arch of the gateway; and, laying his hand upon Lord Chartley's arm, he said, in a low serious tone: "Are you aware, my lord, that the Lady Iola St. Leger is contracted in marriage to Arnold Lord Fulmer?"
Chartley stood and gazed at him in silence, with his brow contracted and his lip quivering. He could not or he would not reply, and the woodman went on saying: "I am sorry, you did not know this. It should have been told you before."
"It should, indeed," replied Chartley; and then, after a pause, he added: "But it matters not, she is not to blame. More than once I have seen something hanging on her lips as if seeking utterance but afraid to venture forth. If I had told her what was growing upon my heart, she would have spoken."
"Most likely," answered the woodman; "for hers is a heart very soon seen through. 'Tis like a clear well, where one can trace all the pebbles in the bottom--their shape, their colour, and if anything obscures them, it is but a light ripple from a passing wind."
"And yet she said but now that she had so love," replied Chartley, moodily.
"And that is true also," answered the woodman; "contracted in infancy, how can she love a man she does not even recollect?"
"Well, 'tis no matter," answered Chartley; "the vision of happiness will pass away, and it is something to have served, protected, comforted her. Hark, the man is drawing near with a low and solemn dirge, as if we were all to be slain and buried ere noon. There is the dawn too, coming in the east, if I mistake not. Let us go on, and stop the piper's melancholy squeaking."
"'Tis but a sign he is not followed," replied the woodman, detaining him. "Let us stay here, we might miss him in some of the turnings; I will whistle, however, to show him that we hear, and then perhaps he will stop."
But the inveterate piper droned on, till he was within sight of the gates, and Chartley and the woodman went down to meet him.
"What news, what news?" they both demanded, eagerly.
"Bad tidings," answered the piper, shaking his head. "First, my lord, you owe me a gold angel."
"There are two," answered Chartley, sharply. "Now for the rest."
"Why then, it is but this," answered Sam. "The rogue, Catesby, has come down with five hundred horse. He has sent on fifty to arrest your lordship at Hinckley, before you are out of bed in the morning. The rest he keeps here to surround the wood, while good Sir John Godscroft searches every nook and corner of it and the old castle and all, to find the bishop and any one who may have aided in his escape from the abbey. They will not leave any stone unturned, depend upon it; and they swear by their beards, God bless them, that every one who has had any hand in it is a foul traitor, worthy of gibbet and post."
"Then are we in a strait indeed," exclaimed Chartley; "for with four hundred and fifty men to watch the wood, and two hundred to search it, there is but little chance of escape. I care not for myself, woodman, if you can but save the lady without scaith or ill construction."
"On my life 'tis that that puzzles me most," answered Boyd; "there may be help at hand, for I have provided some. Your own people, too, will be back soon, for I have sent for them; but we have no force to cope with such a number."
"Nay," answered Chartley; "give me but ten men, and I will break through their line, at least so as to lodge the lady in the abbey. Then as for my own fate, fall what may, I little care."
"Ten men you can have," answered the woodman; "but tell me first, my good lord, what you intend to do?"
"Make at once for the nearest door of the abbey," replied Chartley. "Their line must be thin around the wood, and on that side, perhaps, the thinnest. Grant that we fall in with some of Catesby's men, as most like we shall, we can make head against them for a time, and insure the lady's reaching the gates of the abbey."
"It were better," said Boyd, after thinking for a moment, "that while one part keep the king's men engaged, two or three of the others carry the lady quickly across the dell to the little gate. We have no other chance that I see; but remember, my good lord, that you will be overpowered and taken to a certainty."
"What matters it?" exclaimed Chartley. "Even were one to act on mere calculation, 'tis better to lose one than to lose two. Here we should be both taken together, there we insure her escape. Let us waste no more time in talking. How can we get the men?"
The woodman threw his eye over the edge of the hill on which they were standing, and replied, "You can have them at once." Then putting his horn to his lips, he blew a low and peculiar note; and, in a moment after, several men were seen running up from amongst the trees and bushes which covered the descent. "We must lose no time," said the woodman, "but forward with all speed, or we shall have the search begun and be cut off. You bring the lady forth while I speak to the men."
Chartley turned to go; but, pausing suddenly, he said: "Remember, my good friend, it is on you that I rely to bear the lady safe to the abbey, while I engage the troopers. Think not on my safety for one moment; but take some whom you can trust, and away with her at once. I would fain have seen her safe myself, but it must not be. The dream is at an end."
The woodman gazed at him with a well-pleased smile, which made his stern countenance look bright and sweet; and Chartley, without waiting for further words, hurried away into the ruin.
"There goes a nobleman indeed," said the woodman; and then, striding forward, he met the men who were advancing upon the hill.
"How many men have you got, David?" he continued, addressing the first man who came up.
"There are twelve of us," replied the man. "Three are wanting. I suppose they have stopped them. Most of us slipped through unseen; and the rest got through in different places, on telling their calling."
A short consultation then ensued, which, brief as it was, had hardly ceased when Chartley again came forth, bringing Iola with him. Her face was pale, and she was evidently agitated and alarmed; but she did not suffer fear or hesitation to embarrass in any degree the proceedings of the others. Holding tight by Chartley's arm, with the woodman and one of his men close behind them, and preceded and followed by the rest, divided into two bodies, she was led on, through one of the narrowest paths, down to the bottom of the little rise on which the castle stood. They then crossed a somewhat wider road, running by the bank and fountain I have mentioned before, and then plunged again into the thicker part of the wood. Hardly had they done so however, when the sound of a horn was heard upon the right; and, turning back his head towards the woodman, Chartley said in a low voice, "The hunt has begun."
"Wary, wary," said the woodman. "Keep a sharp ear there in front, and halt in time."
With a somewhat slower step they walked on for a couple of hundred yards further; and then the two men at the head of their little column suddenly stopped, one of them holding up his hand as a signal to those behind. The sun had not actually risen; but yet the grey morning light had spread over the whole sky; and, though the path was somewhat dark and gloomy from the thick copse on either side and the manifold naked branches of the trees overhead, yet, the motions of each of the little party could be seen by the rest. All stopped at once; and a dead silence succeeded amongst themselves, through which, the moment after, the sound of voices and footsteps could be heard, at the distance of a few paces from them. The woodman laid his finger on his lips and listened; but there was a smile upon his face which gave courage to Iola, although the sounds seemed to be approaching fast. So distinctly were they heard indeed, the moment after, that it seemed as if a space of not more than five or six yards was left between the fugitives and the searchers; and Iola clung closer to Chartley's arm, and looked up in his face, as if asking what would come next. He did not venture to offer any consolation, but by a look; and still the steps and the voices came nearer.
"'Tis as thick as a hay stack," one man was heard to say to another, apparently close by.
"And we are set to find a needle in the pottle of hay," replied his companion. "Why he may lurk here without our finding him all day."
"But if we find him we shall get a good reward," replied the first.
"Do not reckon upon that, or you will cheat yourself," said his companion, in a scoffing tone. "At the best, the reward is but a thousand marks. Then Sir John takes two tenths, and the captain one tenth, and the other head men two tenths more amongst them, so that there are but five hundred marks left for two hundred men, even if Catesby and his people were out of the way, and, depend upon it, they'll share, so there wont be ten shillings a man."
"What a head you have for reckoning," said the other; "but go on. I wonder where, in hell's name, we are going. Can you see the castle?"
"Not I," answered the other; "but we must follow this path to the end any way. There goes the horn that is to lead us."
And they seemed to proceed upon their way.
"Now, forward," said the woodman, in a low voice; and moving rapidly on, they came to a large holly bush which concealed the mouth of the little foot track they were following from the very path which the soldiers had taken. Cutting straight across it, they entered a somewhat thinner and more open part of the wood, from which the castle was occasionally visible, so that any one above could have seen them without much difficulty; but it extended not far; and the danger was soon past.
"I know where wo are now," said Iola, in a whisper. "We are close to the cell."
"Hush!" said the woodman. "Hush!" But the unfortunate piper, who was in the rear, stumbled over the root of a tree, and his pipes emitted a melancholy groan.
The woodman turned, and shook his fist at him; and the whole party halted to listen. No sound was heard however; and turning away to the right, by a gentle descent, they approached the spot where the forest stretched furthest into the valley.
"I will go forward and look out for a moment," said the woodman at length, speaking to Chartley in a low voice. "As ill luck would have it, I had the brushwood on the verge cut down last autumn, to prevent rascals lurking about there, little thinking I should need it myself;" and creeping on from bush to bush and tree to tree, he at length got a view along the whole side of the wood fronting the slope on which the abbey stood. It was no pleasant sight that he beheld; for, at a distance of not more than a hundred and fifty yards apart, were stationed horsemen, watching every point of the wood. With his right shoulder resting against a tree, and secured on the left by a thick holly, he remained for about a minute, carefully examining the proceedings of the soldiery. They moved not from the spots at which they had been placed; and the path which he had been hitherto following, wandering in and out amongst the trees upon the slope, passed at some little distance between two banks, till it reached the bottom of the descent, not a hundred and fifty yards from the little postern gate in the abbey wall, over which hung the bell profanely called the Baby of St. Clare.
Boyd saw at once, from the distance at which the men were stationed, that there was a great chance of the whole party reaching the entrance of the lane between the two banks, before more than two of the soldiers could come up with them; and that if this were effected, Iola at least was safe.
After finishing his contemplation quietly, the woodman returned to his party in the same manner as he had left them, taking perhaps even greater precautions, and stooping almost to his knees, lest his great height should carry his head above the bushes. When he reached the others he commanded, rather than explained, saying--
"Now, all upon the path as fast as possible. Robin lead the way to the passage between the banks. Then follow me, wherever I go, and guard me from attack; let all the rest halt at the mouth of the lane, and keep it with a strong hand against pursuers. Now on! Quick, quick!"
The whole party rushed forward, except the piper, (who remained under cover of the wood,) much in the same order as that in which they had hitherto proceeded. Iola was hurried on in the midst, with her heart beating and her head confused, yet gazing round from time to time, and catching with a quick and hurried glance the scene which immediately followed. She beheld the horsemen watching the forest; but, till she had nearly reached the edge of the woodland, the party, which bore her along amongst them, did not seem to attract any attention. Then, however, the two soldiers on each side put spurs to their horses, with a loud shout; and she felt herself instantly caught up in the arms of the woodman, carried along with extraordinary swiftness down the descent, and into the hollow between the two banks.
Iola gazed back over her bearer's shoulder; and the last sight she saw was the party of foresters occupying the mouth of the lane, while three or four armed horsemen were galloping upon them; and Chartley, with his drawn sword in his hand and the Arab beside him, stood a little in advance of his companions, as if to meet the soldiers at their first onset. They were close upon him; and, with a painful shudder, she closed her eyes. When she opened them, the bank hid the scene from her view; and the next moment she heard the bell of the abbey ring sharply.