Edgar the Ready: A Tale of the Third Edward's Reign

by W. P. Shervill

After a short delay the door opened, and one of the most villainous-looking men Edgar had ever set eyes on made his appearance.

"What seek ye?" he enquired, peering suspiciously first at the newcomer and then over his shoulder, as though to find out whether he was alone.

"Some of thy good cheer, landlord. I was seeking another inn which a neighbour of mine speaks well of, but lost my way, and a man I chanced upon by good hap outside sent me to thee. Give me sup of thy best; I have money and can pay," and Edgar, assuming an air of pride and importance, flaunted a handful of coins under the man's eyes.

"Thou shalt have it, noble sir," cried the landlord, with a leer which was meant to encourage his guest, and he led the way into a long room, bare of furniture save for a couple of tables and some rough benches. The room was fairly lofty, but numbers of smoked hams and other objects hanging from the rafters made it appear low and gloomy. Half a dozen men, amongst whom Edgar was quick to discern James Baulch, lounged upon the benches drinking and dicing.

Edgar took stock of his surroundings as the landlord led him to the end of the room farthest from the other occupants, and, fetching a chair from a side room and carefully placing it in position at the table, invited his guest to take a seat.

In a few minutes some food, rough and unpalatable, was brought, and Edgar made shift to eat it, as though with a good appetite. Then he leaned back in his chair, and, half-shutting his eyes, pretended to be nearly asleep. He hoped that most of the men would soon leave, and that he might have an opportunity of accosting Baulch alone or of following him to his room, wherever that might be.

Presently he missed one of the men, and shortly after the others broke into a rough drinking song. Edgar then realized, with something of a shock, that instead of being the pursuer he was now the pursued. It was not the mere withdrawal of one of the men that made him think this, but the quiet, stealthy manner in which the man must have left, and the way in which the other men began their song simultaneously, as though at a signal. It almost seemed that the song was intended to cloak something, perhaps the arrival of a further band of ruffians. Edgar began to regret that he had exhibited his money so freely--or could it be that Baulch had seen through his disguise?

A slight rustling noise close to him attracted his attention, and giving up the pretence of being nearly asleep, he opened his eyes wide and looked warily about him. The men had stopped their song, and were gazing in his direction with an air of covert expectation. Something was going on--that much was clear as noonday. Another slight rustle, and Edgar looked quickly above him into the blackness beyond the hams and other objects hanging from the rafters. He was just in time to catch a glimpse of something as it dropped down over his head. It was a rope!

Before he had time to spring to his feet and fling it off his shoulders, it was drawn tightly round his neck with a quick jerk, and he was lifted almost off his feet. The peril was extreme, and realizing in a flash that only the most desperate exertions could save him, Edgar grasped the rope above the slip knot with his left hand, while with his right he drew his dagger and reached up to cut the rope, straining on tiptoe to get a purchase.

Suddenly a trapdoor, upon which his chair had evidently been placed, gave way beneath his feet, and the whole of his weight fell upon his left arm. Choking, half-strangled, with eyes starting from his head, Edgar strove to cut the rope with his dagger. One stroke, feeble from his straining position and reeling brain--a second stroke--then a third, into which all his remaining strength was put--and like a stone he fell half-fainting through the trapdoor into a cellar below.