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

by W. P. Shervill

"What! The boy who gave thee that clout in the lists that nearly sent thee where thou art so eagerly awaited?" cried De Brin with a loud laugh.

"Nay, Eustace," cried De Maupas, giving the speaker no very friendly look. "He is the boy who played me a base trick that by an unfortunate mischance I could not frustrate. But he will play me no more. Give him to me, Eustace, as an earnest of the goodwill thou hast so often spoken of, but of which I have seen little enough solid evidence; as some slight return, too, for the many profitable ventures I have put thee in the way of."

"Well, well, we will talk more of that anon, camarade Gervaise. The disposal of the boy's body is nothing to me, so long as he is punished for his insolent daring in scaling the walls of my castle; but first I must know how we stand in this business. D'ye know the other man?"

Peter was next examined. "Yes," growled the knight, "this dog is one of the plotters. He is somewhat of a cripple--Baulch hath told me of him--but is not too crippled to give us trouble. Guard him well, Eustace, or thou wilt regret it."

"Ha! ha! ha! friend Gervaise, thou wilt, when thou know'st me better, find that I have a shorter way than that with those who might inconvenience me did they but get the chance."

The words were spoken with meaning, and De Maupas looked doubtfully at the speaker, as though neither liking nor understanding what he meant. "If thou meanest to imply----" he began at length.

"Lead on, men," cried Eustace de Brin, taking no notice of his friend. "Conduct the prisoners to the strongest cell beneath the donjon and see them fast. Duprez, thou wilt have to answer for them--so guard them well."

Down the stone steps Edgar and Peter were marched until they reached the courtyard. Here several of the men-at-arms left them, and, escorted only by Duprez and one other, they skirted the massive walls of the donjon until they came to a small low door. Through this door they were hurried, and found themselves in what seemed to be a vast system of underground passages and vaults which must have dated back to the remoter days of the first beginnings of the castle. Some of the vaults were below the donjon, while others seemed to burrow beneath the flagstones of the courtyard.

By the light of a single torch they were conducted along a passage whose gloomy arched walls echoed back the sound of their footsteps with a sullen insistence that seemed to make them contract yet more closely upon the unhappy prisoners. Presently they reached an ancient, monastic-looking cell, which they judged to be one of those situated beneath the courtyard. Into this they were roughly thrust. The torch was stuck into an iron ring above the doorway, and by its light Duprez and his assistant proceeded to release the arms of their prisoners from their bonds, and to load them afresh with heavy iron shackles which had been hanging ready for use from a hook upon the wall. The chamber was dank and heavy with moisture, and the shackles were thickly coated with rust, wet and smeary to the touch.

"Thou wilt find these safe enough for all their looks," growled Duprez, as he shackled Edgar's right arm to his left leg and his left arm to his right leg, so that he could barely stand upright. "These shackles have held secure captives as strong as thou--aye, and men of noble and knightly birth. Not once in my time has their grip relaxed until death claimed their victims. Sir Eustace said I would have to answer for thee--I object not to that, ha! ha!"