A Gentleman-at-Arms: Being Passages in the Life of Sir Christopher Rudd, Knight

by Herbert Strang

Now I had been sent by Hilary Rawdon to let King Henry know that the Duke of Mayenne was moving towards him from the eastward with a great army, without doubt intending to give him battle, word having been brought to St Jacques by a peasant that the duke was no more than forty miles away. The house whereto I had come could not be above four or five miles from the King's camp at Arques, wherefore it might be supposed that these men were friends of the King. Yet it crossed my mind that they might peradventure be Leaguers, and while I was in any uncertainty I durst not seek shelter with them, nor could I with any conscience proceed on my way. It behoved me, therefore, to make some further discovery, if that were possible, and having no satisfaction in what I had seen, I descended from my perch, and treading very warily, crept along the wall at my right hand, purposing to make the circuit of the house, in the hope to learn something more. By good hap the rain had now ceased, the sky was clearing, and, the month being August, the darkness was not so deep as heretofore; indeed, the stars were now visible, and there was a lightness that seemed to foretell the rising of the moon.

The house was all in darkness, save where I had seen the light. When I came to the corner I saw a smaller building some dozen rods apart, and there, as I passed it, I heard the sound of horses drawing their halters, whereby I guessed it to be the stables. And I perceived now many signs of disorder in the garden—statues overthrown and broken, fragments of wood and porcelain, and other things which led me to believe that the house had lately been put to the sack, and made me go with the more caution. Stealing through the garden to the back of the house, I found a door, which, when I pushed it, yielded an inch or two, but no more, by reason of some barricade behind. A little beyond it, however, I came to a window hanging loose upon its hinges; and after I had waited a moment to be sure that I was neither seen nor heard, I squeezed my body through, and entered a small room which, when my eyes became accustomed to the dimness, I perceived to be empty. There was a door at the left hand. Holding my sword under my arm, I drew my dagger, and crept across the room to the door, which, when I came to it, I found to be ajar. I pulled it towards me, desisting for a moment when it creaked, and listening, with a fear that the sound might have been heard. But there was nothing to alarm me, and having opened the door just so wide as that I might pass through, I came out into a long wide hall, which I could not doubt led to the chief entrance.

Here I paused, as well to recover breath—for my excitement had winded me—as to listen again. From my right came the low rumble of voices, and in an interval of silence I heard on my left hand, towards the main entrance, as I guessed, the sound of deep breathing as of a man asleep. Though the storm had ceased, there was still a slight moaning of the wind as its gusts took the eaves, and trusting to this to shroud my movements, I crept along the passage in the direction whence I had heard the voices, which came more clearly to my ear, yet muffled, as I advanced. Thus I arrived at a door on my left hand, and perceiving this to be open, I entered very stealthily, and saw that I was in a large and lofty chamber divided in two by a curtain.

I heard the voices yet more clearly now, but not distinctly, so that I could not catch the words. There were one or two shafts of light coming through the curtain, which when I ventured to draw near to it I found to be old and torn. Peeping through a rent that was just below the level of my head, I saw, not two men, but four, seated at the table, all masked, and wearing, as I perceived in the case of the two men whose faces were towards me, their cloaks being thrown back, the cuirasses of men of war. I listened very eagerly, to catch something of their discourse, but they were at a good distance from me, and spoke in low tones, so that I heard but a word here and there, and could not by any means piece them together. This irked me not a little, but I durst not part the curtain, for then I should have been in full view of the men on the further side of the table, whose backs I had seen when I peeped through the shutter; and I was troubled, also, by having, as it were, to strain one ear towards them and the other towards the man at the end of the hall, who might wake at any moment and, for all I knew, come to this very room. So in much impatience and fearfulness I listened, and went hot and cold when I caught the word "Bearnais," for that was the name by which the Leaguers called the King, and I had reason to suspect by this that these men were no friends of his. And by and by I heard other names, "Rosny" and "Biron," the King's friends, and then all again became confused, until one of the two that had their faces from me leant back in his chair, lifting his arms above his head as if to stretch himself, and said very clearly, and yet without raising his voice: "It were easy to snare the game, but the keepers are wary."

While I was still wondering what these words might mean, and vague surmise was making me uneasy, I heard very faintly the neighing of a horse, and a moment afterwards an answering whinny, but this much louder. The men had given over talking, and he that had last spoken still lay back in his chair, with his hands clasped behind his head, and so he remained while a man might count ten. Then of a sudden he straightened himself, flinging his hands apart, and leant across the table, and said: "The second horse is in the open." The men over against him looked at each other, their eyes glittering strangely through the masks, and I waited to see no more, for I could not doubt that the second horse was my own, and it was time for me to go. As quickly as I might, yet with great quietness, I stepped across the room towards the door, and had but just got myself out into the hall when I heard the grating sound of chairs pushed back as when men rise in a hurry, and saw a light flash through the doorway as the curtain was parted. With my heart in my mouth I fled on tiptoe along the hall and into the room I had first entered, and had not even time to close the door behind me when the men passed, their spurs ringing as they trod. I heard them come to the great door, and one of them kick the sleeping sentry, and then the door was thrown open with a mighty creaking, and I knew that they were betwixt me and my horse.

In a moment I skipped out by the window, delaying just so long as sufficed to replace it as it had first hung, and being now outside, stood to consider of my course. I saw with thankfulness that the sky had again become clouded, so that all was now near as dark as before. Men were calling to one another in the garden, and since they could hardly as yet have discovered the whereabouts of my horse, I thought I could do no better than make my way back as straightly as I could to the clump of trees where I had left him, trusting to luck and the darkness. I had gone but a few steps when I stumbled against a man, and believed myself undone; but he said: "Do you see anything?" and composing my voice I answered: "Nothing," and then left him and sped on, scarce believing in my good fortune. So with many a stumble and shrewd knock upon my shins, making all haste yet moving with such quietness as was possible, I came to the wall, and without waiting to seek the gateway I scrambled over, and fell upon my face in the mud. For this I cared nothing, only that in my fall my sword clashed against a stone, and a shout from the enclosure warned me that the alarm was given. I was on my feet in a trice, and sprang across the lane, in desperate fear lest my horse might whinny again and bring the enemy upon me ere I could loose him and mount. In my agitation of mind I could not remember whether the clump of trees was on my right hand or my left, but a break in the flying scud gave me so much light as to show me what I sought, and I had just reached it and was plunging through the undergrowth when I heard the clash of steel as the men scrambled over the wall like as I had done, and their voices calling one to another as they asked whether they saw any man.

So dark was it in the copse that I could not see my horse, and I doubt whether I should have found him in time if he, hearing my approach, had not whinnied and so led me in the right direction. I unloosed his bridle in haste, but had no sooner vaulted into the saddle than a man ran up behind me, and cried out to the others that he had me. I set spurs to my horse, but at the moment of his springing forward I felt a sharp pang in the calf of my left leg, and the man let forth a vehement oath when the horse carried me beyond his reach. Bending low in the saddle to shun the branches of the trees, the which swept my cheeks and dealt me many smarting wounds, I put my horse to the gallop, incommoded by finding that one of my stirrups was gone, and knowing never a whit whether I was riding towards Arques or from it. I came out of the copse into a road, and hearing no sounds of pursuit,—indeed scarce expecting any, since the men were not mounted—I gave the horse his head, and breasting an incline we came to a small hamlet, where I did not scruple to knock at one of the cottages until a window was opened, and a peasant sleepily demanded what I lacked. From him I learnt that I was but a stone's throw from the Bethune river, which gave me great comfort, and so I spurred on, and by and by came to the bridge by Archelles, and so on until I gained the marshy plain below Arques where the King was encamped, never stopping until I was challenged by the outposts.

I FELT A SHARP PANG IN THE CALF OF MY LEFT LEG

The day was now breaking, and since my news was important—both that which I brought from Hilary Rawdon and that which I had discovered for myself—I demanded to be led instantly to Rosny, with whom I had some slight acquaintance, having been commended to him in a letter by my Lord Seymour when I joined Hilary Rawdon's troop. Rosny at first seeing me broke into a fit of laughter, the which was not to be wondered at, seeing that my garments were drenched through and through, and my face was muddy both from splashes and from my fall, and withal I walked somewhat stiffly from the wound in my leg. But he looked grave enough when I told him in brief what news I carried, and he would have me accompany him at once to the King, whom he doubted not to find already astir, though the morning was yet young. (I had not then heard the saying of Pope Sixtus V, who foretold that the Bearnais would come off conqueror because he did not remain so long abed as the Duke of Mayenne at table; but I knew of the King's habit of rising early, the which was indeed a cause of grumbling among the sluggards of his Court.)