"Oh, my lord, 'tis not the lady Gertrude--she is above. 'Tis the lady Beatrice."
"Ah! But what has chanced? Canst not speak? Is she dead?"
"Nay, nay--she is not dead. She hath been carried off by robbers or outlaws--none knoweth by whom. The lady Gertrude is in despair. We have done all we could to find where she hath been taken, but without avail."
"Woe, woe!" cried the knight, sinking back on the couch on which he had been placed. "Enemies seem to encompass me and mine. She was placed in my charge and I have failed in my duty. Why didst leave the ladies all unguarded, Edgar, to come to my aid? That was not well thought of. I cannot value my rescue if it hath been obtained at the expense of my ward's life and honour."
"I gave the ladies into Matthew's charge, Sir John," replied Edgar brokenly. "How could I think aught would befall? Reproach me not, I beg of thee, for I feel I cannot forgive myself--and yet, could I let thee perish without a blow struck?"
"Let it pass, Edgar. 'Twas in my despair that I reproached thee. It was not just. 'Tis Matthew who shall feel the weight of my displeasure. Landlord, fetch down the lady Gertrude, for we must know all and see if there be aught that can still be done."
In a minute or two Gertrude appeared, wild with joy at hearing that her father had at last returned. "Father, Father, how glad I am that thou hast come back!" she cried, throwing herself on her knees and winding her arms about him in joyous rapture. Then, seeing how thin and weak and ill he looked, her gladness gave place to anxiety and concern. "Thou must come back with me to England," she said persuasively, "and let me nurse thee back to health and strength. Thou hast done enough for a little while. How I wish poor Beatrice were here to welcome thee and share my gladness!"
"Tell us of the dreadful event," said Sir John, after the first greetings were over. "We must consider what is best to be done. Tell us everything."
The story was short enough. It appeared that the day after Edgar's departure, Beatrice, knowing that he could not be back for a week or more, suddenly determined that she would pay the expected visit to her castle home at Faucigny. Her maid accompanied her, and, at Gertrude's desire, she took Matthew and another of the Wolsingham men-at-arms as an escort, the forward move of the English forces not having yet begun. Three leagues beyond Bordeaux, whilst passing through a small wood, the party was suddenly ambushed by four men.
The man-at-arms was struck down before he could lift a hand in his defence, and on Matthew fell the whole brunt of the attack. He made a splendid defence but was eventually overcome and, covered with wounds, left for dead upon the field. What then happened to the lady Beatrice and her maid no one knew. Fortunately, Matthew was discovered by passing peasants a few hours later and was carried to a hovel a mile or two away. Here he was tended until the arrival of a search party which had been sent out the instant the riderless horse of the man-at-arms galloped back into the camp with blood upon saddle and flank.