Geoffrey the Lollard

by Frances Eastwood

They were not aroused from their slumber till the fire had begun to rage, for they were so embedded in the stone that the heat and smell took a long time to penetrate to them; but at last the ivy on the outside caught, and the flames were roaring "from turret to foundation stone." The smoke which then poured in through the narrow slits aroused Bertrand, who soon understood the plot. It was with great difficulty that he and De Forest could get Lord Cobham through the narrow passages, for they were all almost suffocated with smoke, and the heat in some places was nearly unbearable. In more than one spot the walls had fallen in and choked the way with rubbish, but fortunately the soldiers were all outside, guarding the blazing ruins, so that they could pass easily through some of the more open rooms, and so into the vaults. Here they rested awhile, but not long, for they feared lest some arch should give way and cut off their retreat. They therefore passed along the subterranean passage mentioned in the first part of the story, which opened in the direction of the road they intended to take.

They were in doubt where they should procure horses for their journey, but their trusty friend and servant, Charles Bertrand, had a plan in his head which he did not at first communicate to his master; but leaving them sitting on a block of stone in the passage, he crept through the little door concealed by brushwood, and closing it carefully behind him, stole along the bed of the stream, and then up the bank on his hands and knees. All this was done without noise, and he crouched down in the bushes not ten feet from the spot where the captain sat on his horse indulging in his day-dreams.

Presently the soldier dismounted, and began to examine the animal. "Not a bad brute!" was his muttered comment, as he noticed the fine muscular development of his chest and the fire of his eye; "not a bad brute, nor an ugly one, and far too good for an heretic to ride. I have not had a better mount for years; and as for you," he added, bestowing a kick on his own abandoned charger, which had been degraded to the office of carrying some of the plunder from the castle, "you shall henceforth carry my wife, Ivan, to market, when she wears the new red cloak which I shall buy her in London; she is a good dame, and a handsome one too, and----"

What further plans were in his head for the benefit of himself and wife can never be known; for just at that moment there was a shout in the direction of the burning building, and he, thinking that the rats had at last been smoked out of their hiding-places, did not stop to ride round by the road, but, hooking the horses' bridles on a branch, he flung himself down the steep bank in the direction of the castle, shouting to his men to "save them alive."

Charles Bertrand chuckled with glee at the turn things had taken. It took but a moment to loosen the beasts, cut the pack from the one, and lead them both down into the wood. He then gave a whistle, and in a shorter time than it takes to relate it, Sir John was mounted on his own horse, Cobham on the captain's discarded steed, with Bertrand behind him, and all were spurring forward toward the blue mountains, whose snow-capped peaks invited them to a safe and happy asylum.

The chances were much against Ivan's ever riding to market on the old gray war-horse, decked in the scarlet cloak purchased by the price of the three Lollard heads!

For a mile or so both horses went at full speed, Sir John's steed urged on by his master's voice, and the trooper's abused charger showing itself not much the worse for wear, by carrying double almost as fast as the other bore single weight. They had need of all their exertions, for they had not been off more than fifteen minutes before the whole band was in pursuit of them. They gained a little time, however, by their pursuers taking a wrong road, and it was not long before the November twilight closed suddenly upon them, aiding still more their concealment in the gloom of the forest.

It was nearly midnight before they dismounted, and then, though wearied with their journey, and chilled by the sleet which had fallen during the last few hours, the place at which they stopped did not seem at all likely to afford them any one of the traveller's three requirements--bed, food and fire. All seemed to be well acquainted with the spot. It was an old ruin of what had probably been a fine house in the days of Henry the First, but which had been destroyed, like many another, and its owner's name blotted from existence during the wars of Stephen. Bertrand dismounted, and led the horses carefully among the stones, into what had been the courtyard of the castle. There he sheltered them under some broken arches, while their riders entered a low room, still left almost entire, but so situated that a careless person passing by, would fail to distinguish it from the masses of rubbish by which it was surrounded.

The air within was damp and chilly; but De Forest pulled aside a loose stone in the wall, and from the recess behind it drew out some fagots of dry wood, a pitcher of common wine, a loaf of bread, and some hard Welsh cheese. A cheerful fire was soon blazing on the stone floor, after De Forest had hung his cloak over the opening by which they entered, for the double purpose of keeping the cold air from blowing on the backs of those within, and the firelight from revealing itself to those who might be without. Then, after warming their benumbed limbs, they were quite ready to do justice to the simple fare.

This ruin was one of the meeting-places of the Lollards. Wales being their great asylum, it was convenient to have some spot a little beyond the foot of the mountains, where they might come, and find out whether it was safe to proceed any farther. There was always a small stock of provisions and firewood kept there, so that in case any preachers were obliged to spend the night there, they might not have to endanger themselves or others by venturing to any of the neighboring cottages. There was also a set of signals here, conducted on the same system, and connected with those at the foot of the oak near Forest Castle, and Bertrand carefully deciphered them and arranged them anew. He learned that the road was clear as far as the mountains for those going thither, but that no one from the mountains had better venture down. He then placed such marks as would indicate to those who should read them the number of the archbishop's soldiers, the burning of the Tower, and the escape of De Forest and Cobham. So perfectly had this system of signals been arranged, and so well was their secret kept, that he knew in a few days the news of the escape of the two reformers would be known and rejoiced over by all the Lollards for many miles around, while their enemies would wonder how the intelligence was spread, and lay it all to the account of that diabolical assistance and knowledge of sorcery which they firmly believed was possessed by these outlaws.