"Do I know who did it?" exclaimed De Coucy: "John of Anjou! your brother! his uncle!"
"Not with his own hand surely!" exclaimed Salisbury, drawing back with a movement of horror.
"As I hope for salvation in the blessed cross!" replied De Coucy, "I believe he did it with his own hand. At least, full certainly, 'twas beneath his own eye;" and he proceeded to detail all that he had heard. "Before that day," continued the knight, "I was fed on bread and water, or what was little better. Since--you see how they treat me;" and he pointed to the table. "I have contented myself each morning with half of one of those white loaves," he added: "first, because this is no place for hunger; and next, because I would rather not die like a rat poisoned in a granary."
The earl hung his head for a moment or two in silence; and then again, grasping De Coucy's hand, he said, "Come, good knight, come! Deeds done cannot be amended. They are tumbled, like old furniture, into the great lumber-house of the past, to give place to newer things, some better and some worse. You were a prisoner but now--You are now free; and believe me, on my honour, I would rather have laid my sword-hand upon a block, beneath an axeman's blow, than that my noble friend should have undergone such usage:--but come, your ransom by this time is told down, and your attendants wait you in the palace hall. First, however, you shall go to my lodging in Rouen, and do on my best haubert and arms. There are horses in my stables, which have stood there unridden for months. Take your choice of them; and God speed you! for, though it be no hospitable wish, I long to see your back turned on Normandy."
De Coucy willingly accepted the earl's courtesy, and followed down the stairs of the prison into the open air. He trod with the proud step of a freeman: the sight of living nature was delight; the fresh breath of heaven a blessing indeed; and when he stood once more clothed in shining arms, he felt as if the bold spirit of his youngest days had come back with redoubled force.
As they proceeded to traverse the space which separated the lodging of the Earl of Salisbury from the ducal palace, William Longsword proceeded to give De Coucy a short account of all the steps which his page had taken to effect his liberation, and which, however brief, we shall not repeat here; it being quite sufficient to the purposes of this history, that the knight was liberated.
Salisbury and De Coucy mounted the stairs of the palace with a rapid pace: but, at the hall door, they paused for a single moment: "Salisbury!" said De Coucy with a meaning tone, "I must do my duty as a knight!"
"Do it!" replied the earl with firm sadness, understanding at once the young knight's meaning. "Do it, De Coucy--God forbid that I should stay a true knight from doing his devoir!"
So saying, he led the way into the hall.
John was still jesting with Gallon the fool. The barons were standing around, some silently listening to the colloquy of the king and the juggler, some speaking together in a low voice. At a table, on one side of the hall, where sat the secretary, appeared De Coucy's page, Ermold de Marcy, with a herald; and on the board between him and the clerk, lay a large pile of gold pieces, with the leathern bags which had disgorged them, while one of the men behind held a similar pouch, ready to dispose of its contents as need might be.