A Clerk of Oxford, and His Adventures in the Barons' War

by Evelyn Everett-Green

Amalric turned eagerly upon Joanna once again.

"Canst thou tell us aught of this? And when didst thou first believe that it was trickery and not magic that was being practised upon thee? Hadst thou suspected aught ere thou wentest forth?"

"The doubt had just crossed my mind," answered Joanna. "I knew well that Roger was bent upon obtaining Linda's hand in marriage, and I believed that he had slain Hugh the better to obtain his object. Then when Linda spoke of her doubt as to Hugh's death, I could not but wonder how far Roger and Tito were concerned in his disappearance. But it was not till I was within the magician's cave—for such it appeared to be—and heard that voice urging upon the unconscious Linda to do the will of those two evil men, that conviction came home to me. Then like a flash I seemed to see it all—how they had not dared to kill Hugh, lest inquiry and discovery should follow, but had made a prisoner of him, and were now seeking through the medium of pretended magic to break Linda's resolve, and hurry her into lifelong misery as the bride of Roger. For if she could be convinced that her lover's life and liberty depended upon the sacrifice, she might be willing to make it, when no other consideration in the world would drive her to the step. This, then, was the meaning of all this pretence of magic and occult power. Linda was to be terrified into a rash promise, the magician working upon her and foretelling life to her lover if she did but comply. And I verily believe they would have succeeded but for that timely fainting fit, which rendered her helpless and speechless, and angered them into words which betrayed the plot to me."

"What did they say?"

"I can scarce repeat the words. All was darkness and confusion and haste when they saw Linda lying like one dead before them. But I heard some muttered oaths, only too like what I hear from Tito Balzani in moments of anger; whilst the strength exhibited by the other man in lifting and carrying Linda away was little like that of the bowed and aged man which he had appeared to be, and I was wellnigh certain that it was Roger. I was more than half afraid he would spirit her away next; but I kept fast hold of her dress, even after my eyes were bandaged, and the other man walked beside me guiding my steps. Just at the South Gate they set down Linda, and vanished in the darkness. I pulled off the bandage, and found myself alone with her, leaning up against the wall. The sentry at the gate heard my call, and came and helped to carry her home. He said that several half-swooning maidens had been left there during these last days after dark. For his part he should be glad when the fair was ended and the magicians had gone their way. He did not hold with honest citizens being scared out of their senses. And having carried Linda home, he departed."

"Would he know where the magician had his place of resort?" asked Amalric eagerly. "Didst thou ask him?"

"Yes; but he could tell nothing. He said the less he meddled in such matters the better. Methinks the magicians had scared him somewhat. He was right glad to think they were going. I have asked of many if they could tell; but none can say. Those who went forth were led blindfold, and all they can say is that the way seemed long and tortuous, and that the place was like a cave, albeit none can remember going down steps. Yet it is true that there was a damp, cave-like scent in the air, and one seemed to pass beneath an arch as one entered."

"It could not be any of those buildings which pertain to the Black Friars; the danger would be too great," said Hal, "for the friars are no friends to magic. There are many mills along Trill Mill Stream, but one can scarce see how the mock magician could weave his spells there. By day they are used, and men work early and late. Besides, how could they keep a prisoner there—if so be that Joanna is right, and Hugh has been kept in durance vile during these many weeks? It is hard of credence; and yet how else could his face appear in the mirror?"

Here Leofric, who had listened to every word spoken, and had been thinking deeply, looked up to say,—

"There is the tower—Friar Bacon's tower—close to the Grandpont, beyond the South Gate, beyond the mills and the buildings of the Black Friars. That tower hath an evil report. Men fear it even by day; by night all give it wide berth. I have heard men say of late that strange sounds have been heard issuing forth, and that it is a place unholy and to be avoided. Can it be possible that these evil men have broken in, and used it for the practice of their wicked arts? It might suit them well, since they can study the stars from thence, cast horoscopes, and practise many forbidden arts safely within its walls. And if they had a mind to keep a prisoner there—"