"Rich!" said Nicholas;--"what, with fifty half-nobles, pretty maid? It is a heavy sum, truly, but soon spent."
"Were that all," rejoined Ella, "I should not count myself very rich; but I have more than that, cousin--enough to dower me to as gay a citizen as any in Ghent. But here seem a number of gallants gathering round the gate of the Graevensteen. I will back into the far part of the shop, and we will talk more hereafter."
While this conversation had been going on between Nicholas and Ella Brune, Richard of Woodville, followed by the goldsmith's man, had hurried back to the inn, and directed Ned Dyram to deliver over the coffer belonging to the minstrel girl, which had been brought, not without some inconvenience, on the back of one of the mules that carried his own baggage. The young gentleman did not remark that, in executing this order, Ned Dyram questioned the lad cunningly; and busy, to say sooth, in paying his score to the host, and making his final preparations for departure, he forgot for the time his fair companion of the way, quite satisfied that she was safe and comfortable under the roof of her kinsman.
Some time before the hour appointed, Woodville was in the court of the old castle, with his men armed and mounted, in very different guise from their peaceful habiliments of the morning. He contented himself with sending in a page to inform the Count that he was ready, and remained standing by his horse's side; while several of those who had been chosen by the young Burgundian Prince as his companions, entered through the old gate, and paused to admire, with open eyes, the splendid array of the English band, each man armed in plate of the newest and most approved form, according to his degree, and each bearing, slung over his shoulder, the green quiver, filled with the fatal English arrows, which turned so often the tide of battle in the olden time.
After having waited for about ten minutes, the page whom Woodville had sent came back, and conducted him into the castle, where, in a suite of rooms occupying the basement story of one of the towers, he found the young Count, armed and ready to mount. "Here is your lodging after our return," said the Prince, rapidly. "I wished to show it to you ere we set out: these four chambers, and one above. Your horses must be quartered out. And now, my friend, let us to the saddle: the rest have come, I think." And, speeding through the passages to the court-yard, he welcomed gracefully the gentlemen assembled, sprang upon his horse's back, and, followed by his train, rode out over the private bridge belonging to the castle, bending his steps upon the road to the French frontier.
The Count himself, and the small body that accompanied him, amounting in all to about a hundred men, were all armed after the heavy and cumbersome fashion of those days; and each of the several parties of which the troop was composed, had with them one or two led horses or mules, loaded with spare arms and clothing. Considering weight and incumbrances, they moved forward at a very rapid rate--certainly not less than seven miles an hour; and pausing nowhere but to give water to the horses, they had advanced nearly eight leagues on their way ere nightfall. A few minutes after, through the faint twilight which remained in the sky, Richard of Woodville perceived some spires and towers rising at a short distance over the flat country before them; and, on his asking one of the gentlemen, with whom he had held a good deal of conversation during their journey, what town it was that they were approaching, the reply was, "Courtray."
Here the Count of Charolois stopped for about an hour; but, while the horses and most of his attendants contrived to obtain some very tolerable food, the young Prince neither ate nor drank; but, with a mind evidently anxious and disturbed, walked up and down the hall, occasionally talking to Richard of Woodville, the only one who exercised the same abstinence, but never mentioning either the end or object of their journey.
A little after eight o'clock the whole party were in the saddle once more, and, judging from the direction which they took as they issued forth from the gates of Courtray, the gentleman who had been the young Englishman's principal companion on the road informed him that they must be going to Lille. In about two hours and a half more, that city was seen by the light of the moon; and, after causing the gates to be opened, the Count took his way through the streets, but did not direct his course to the château usually inhabited by the Flemish Counts. Alighting at the principal hostelry of the place, he turned to the gentlemen who followed, saying, "Here we must wait for the first news that to-morrow may bring. Make yourselves at ease, noble lords. I am tired, and will to bed."
Without farther explanation, he retired at once with his personal attendants; and his followers proceeded to amuse themselves as best they might. Richard of Woodville remained with his comrades of the road for about an hour, and, during that time, much of the rough asperity of fresh acquaintance was brushed away. He then followed the example of the young Count, in order to rise refreshed the next morning.