[Now he raised himself on his arm and claimed the victory]
[Dame Franklin and the old soldier were frozen in their places]
[The force of my blow drove him backward, but my weapon pierced him not]
[While I spoke my mother had grown pale as death]
[Then Elbert did come to the mark and, with a merry grin, sent five arrows toward the target]
[He gave no inch of ground save to leap from side to side in avoiding my downward strokes]
[In a twinkling armed and mounted men were all about us]
[Hard we rode, indeed, and with little mercy on our mounts]
[Both were red of face with hurry, and their horses were well lathered and breathing hard]
[Then with loud menaces I drove him to the wall where I made him stand with hands above his head]
[Sir Cedric rose to his feet and for a moment looked from one to the other of our company]
[CHAPTER I—THE SIEGE OF CASTLE MOUNTJOY]
That was a blithe spring morning when the messenger from the King brought to my father the order to join the army at Lincoln for the great expedition into Scotland. Six armored knights with their squires and a hundred men-at-arms made up the Mountjoy quota; and these my father, liege lord of the domain and loyal subject of the crown, lost no time in bringing together.
Messengers, on horseback and afoot hurried out with his commands; and at the castle we were all in a pretty flurry of making ready.
The armorers were hammering and riveting in the courtyard, making a most merry din; the big ox-carts lumbered in over the drawbridge, bearing meat and grain for my father’s company while on its way to the assembly ground and for us who were to remain at Mountjoy; and our men in their leathern jackets and hoods and with their cross-bows slung on their backs were coming in by ones and twos and in groups of half a score.
Now my lady mother drew near to Father’s side as he watched the labor of the armorers, and I, having no will to lose any word of his, came forward also.
“My lord,” she said, “I would speak with thee where the noise of these hammers will not deafen our ears.”
My father laughed as one laughs at the sorriest jest when he is gay.
“Gadzooks! my lady,” he said with a curtsy which my mother says he learned in Italy, and which, try as I may, I cannot copy—“a daughter of the Montmorencys should find in the din of armorers’ hammers a music far sweeter than that of the lute or viol.”
“’Tis well enough,” said my mother, hurriedly, “and I should sorrow to live where it never was heard. But I have a grave matter upon which to consult thee. Hast thou given thought, my lord, to the castle’s defense during thine absence and that of the best part of our men?”