Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 115 — page 13: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

one — pA ———$$____—_. with his mailed column through the dense crowd of unarmed citizens who were now flockirg from the seals into the camp and toward the city. His purpose was to reach the grand stand be- fore the ladies had left it and sweep off Adeline by a mingling of artifice and force, ere she could be rescued, But when he arrived there, he found that he had reckoned without his host, for the grand stand was empty, and he learned that the ladies had crossed the lists and emerged from the op- 0site side, going toward the city with the fam- Uy of the Duke of Orleans. Full of rage and urged on by Denis, he gave the word to trot, and swept back, totally un- heeding the crowd of citizens making for the road into Orleans. Ahead of him were a host of gleaming spear- oints and waving banners, blocking the path; ut he dashed on, skirting the road, through the green meadows, followed and preceded by the screams of women and children, running for their lives out of the way of the mail-clad horsemen. So large and compact a body has always something imposing in its appearance, and the crowd of horsemen on the road, composed of small parties of a dozen or twenty, and united by no common tie, shrunk instinctively to the other side of the way, when they heard the clank and thunder of armor and hoofs. ‘Yonder is our bird,” cried Denis, at last, pointing ahead through the dust. They had nearly reached the head of the great procession, and the white banner with the golden lilies of Franee could be seen surrounded by the spear-points of a numerous cavalcade. But beside that banner, in the spot indicated by Denis, was the red flag, quartered with blue, that revealed the retinue of the Dame de Coucy; and here it was that the squire had formed the bold design of cutting into the column as if by accident, and jostling the presumably small retinue of St. Pol away from the horse litter, Denis did not doubt that it was St. Pol’s troopers who were still guarding the litter, though he did not see the count’s banner; so he pressed his horse in on his master’s and the whole column swayed bodily to the left and dashed obliquely into the head of the great mass of horsemen. Then arose a great jostling and clashing and swearing, with the sound of blows on all sides and cri sof pain. Denis found that instead of being in the midst of St. Pol’s troopers, every man wore a white surcoat with the gold lilies, and realized that he was engaged in an act little short of treason. Gaston realized the same fact, and would have retreated at once, but the more powerful mind of the squire prevailed as usual, and they jostled their way on by main force, till they came to the horse-litter itself. All were so closely wedged in together b this time that it was not possible to use a swor and men were smiting each other with clenched fists, wrestling and cursing in rage, but with little actual damage to each other, — Then Denis uttered a cry of triumph as he forced his horse inside of the space occupied by the horse-litter, and gave the word to sway out to the right once more. How it was done it was hard to say, but the next minute the two columns diverged again, and under the banner of Gaston de Coucy rode the horse-litter, while the whole cavalcade quickened its pace to a gallop. ‘‘Now, my bold lady,” cried tho squire tri- umphantl y, “let us see you escape again, if you can. CHAPTER XIV. THE FEAST. GASTON was so much occupied in securing his flight with his prize, that he thought of nothing else as he rode on, giving his men orders to face about to the rear by divisions to a any pur- suit, while the rest hurried with the litter to camp. He fancied all the way that he heard the clank of mail behind him, and that he was resi earnestly pursued, as he dashed over the meadows skirting the city walls, till he reached his own encampment, What was his surprise and joy when he ar- rived there, to find himself entirely unmolested without so much as a single horseman behind him, save his own men. Denis was equally overjoyed at this unexpected good luck, and revilly assented to his master’s proposal that they should strike camp and pursue their way to Languedoc. “Wor,” said Gaston, “it is plain that these women have fooled the seneschal in some way and stolen away from the castle; therefore the tower must be open again. Here we are inthe midst of foes, but there it will take more than the power of Louis of France to take De Coucy.” ’ Denis assented to the force of the reasoning, and departed to give the necessary orders, when Gaston, for the first time, advanced to the hares and drew the curtains with a rough and. But another surprise awaited him there, not so welcome as the first. The litter was empty. An angry man was Gaston de Coury as he ' ert CC LL LLL eee reo ee rr ee -_—— _ The Severed ee realized the trick that had been played on him, and he had not finished cursing his ill-luck when one of the archers rode in to say that a heavy body of armed horsemen were coming toward the camp from the city, headed by the white banner of France. In great perplexity and some alarm he sent for Denis, and they formed up their men in or- der, to defend the camp; an operation hardly completed when the dignified presence of the Constable at the head of his troops was seen within a bowshot of the camp. The royal men-at-arms halted, and Jacques d’Avesmes rode forward to meet De Coucy, who, on his part, advanced with Denis, feeling decidedly sheepish. The Lord Marshal of the lists was as grave and dignified as ever, and exhibited no trace of sion as he said: ‘““The most noble Prince Louis, Duke of Or- leans, sends his greetings to the Master of oneys and saith that this pleasantry is ill- timed at a tourney. Nevertheless he will ex- cuse it if the Master will restore to him at once the litter of her grace the duchess.” Gaston was thunderstruck. ‘*Of her grace the duchess! Why I saw my wife, Adeline, in this litter, not three hours since. She has fled from my bed and board, and I wished to force her back to her al- legiance.” The Constable smiled slightly. ‘‘T know nothing of any wife of the present Master of Coucy. The Lady Adeline, widow of the late Guy de Coucy, hath asked the protec- tion of the duchess, which the most noble prin- cess hath given her. Is the Master of Coucy ready to give up the litter?’ *T want none that is not my own,” retorted Gaston, doggedly. ‘There is the litter. Take it This time Jacques d’Avesmes flushed with anger at the want of common decency evinced by Gaston. ‘* Now, by my faith as a knight!” he said; ‘we will see whether there are not cavaliers in Orleans to teach thee the respect due to a roe cess, ere this tourney be over. Send the litter with thy grooms and squire -to the palace to- night, and crave mercy for having wantonly oe a Loble lady or ’twill be the worse for thee. So saying he wheeled his horse with a sharp gs i the spurs and trotted pte. ea age wery, enis, unlike his usual rough way, looked grave after this colloquy, and said to his mas- ter: ‘** Order out the litter and let us be in haste to gallop after him. If we stir up a hornets’ nest by making Joan and Philip of Orleans our ene- mies without a cause, we shall need all the strength of Coucy’s walls to stand a siege.” Without further delay he ordered out the lit- ter and galloped away at full speed, never halt- ing till he drew rein by the Constable of France, who looked very angry. Denis, besides a strong will, had a shrewd brain and an oily tongue when he would, and he shqwed all his adroitness on this occasion. ‘* My lord, my lord,” he said; ‘‘ the Mester of Coucy hath sent me to give back the litter of the Princess Joan, and to crave pardon humbly for his anger. He hath been sore provoked by certain false men who have stolen away the Lady Adeline, bis ward cad wife, from him.” The Constable gave a little cough that sound- ed as if he were somewhat mollified. ‘“*Then why could he not say so at once?” he asked. ** Because my lord had no time to reflect and was angry that he could not be allowed to fight the false Count of Toulouse, who insulted him in the lists.” growled to himself ill- Jacques d’Avesmes temperedly: ‘* Beshrew me all these private quarrels, that entlemen will drag into the midst of a feast. Vell, go back to thy master, and tell him that his excuse is accepted. If he ctill wish to fight Toulouse, he can have a chance next week. In the mean time, he is bid to the feast with his kinsmen to-night, at the duke’s palace.” Denis bowed low with profuse thanks, and re- turned with the good news to his master, whom he found very gloomy. The squire’s advice was urgent that they should go to the feast and try to ingratiate themselves with the duke, treating both St. Pol and Toulouse, should they meet them, with courtesy. Gaston saw the force of the advice, for he felt, for the first time since he had been Master of Coucy, that he was in no condition to defy his enemies. He selected a retinue of ten knights out of his suite, all distant relatives, en- titled to wear the Fe spurs, and set off for the Hotel de Ville at the cluse of twilight. Denis, not being a knight, was not privileged to sit at the banquet with bis master, on whom he was su d to wait; but the lacerated con- dition of his face effectually prevented his ap- pearance in any such capacity. Therefore he determined to go with his mas- ter only to the city, and to remain outside the palace in the crowd, to do what service he could in the way of intrigue. =" They were soon within the walls, which they found guarded by a strong force of archers, selected from the retinue of the principal no- bles, but all wearing the golden fleur de lis or lily in their caps, as a token that they were in the temporary service of the royal family of: France. At the gate they were met by an officer of the court, who required them to give up all arms but their daggers, which were used in those days instead of table-knives, Gaston protested against what he called an indignity, but the officer pointed out to bim the fact that every one in the streets was unarmed, and pleaded the order of the Duke of Orleans. The fact was that the duke, alarmed by the feuds which were constantly breaking out be- tween the rival nobles gathered at the tourney, had adopted this method of securing peace at night. e trusted that a few more days of the rough sports of the lists would tame the turbu: lent spirits and render permanent peace a possi- bility during the rest of the festivities, Denis, who was clad in complete mail and muffled in a long cloak, his steel cap hidden by a palmer’s broad hat, escaped the rigor of the search and managed to carry in a short sword as well as his dagger, with which he slip into the crowd of peaceful citizens that filled the streets, leaving his master and retinue to pro- ceed to the Hotel de Ville, The squire mingled with the throng in the darkness, quite unnoticed, and listened intently to every scrap of conversation that might throw a light on his search. He was bent on discovering the whereabouts of Adeline de Coucy and the estimation im which his master’s name was held in the city, outside of the aroma For a long time he heard nothing to give hina any clew. The talk of the quiet citizens was oll about the lists, with wise estimates of the prow- ess of the contestants and wagers on the victors of next day. He heard the names of many knights mentioned, but nothing transpired of interest till he came to the Place d’Armes or square in front of the Hotel de Ville. Then, as he passed under the guttering oil lamps which lighted the front of a ers shop, he heard a whining voice that he remem- bered—that of Stephen, the rich tenner, te whom the saddlery probably belonged. Denis passed on, shrouding his scratched face with hat and cloak, and leaned against the wall of a house in the shadow to listen. ‘* It is actually true, neighbor Picot,” said the tanner. ‘They bad no more respect for my robe of office than if I had been a tapster, and they hustled me about as I had been a prisoner. But the Lord of St. Pol is a brave lord, and he served them out for all their insolence. It is well seen that the duke was right in disarnm- ing all these country nobles, who have no more manners than the wolves and boars they hunt.” ‘‘And what became of the squire that ill- treated thee?” asked neighbor Picot. **On the faith of a Christian, I know not, The maniac howled like a wolf, and they sa that he tore the squire to pieces so that he died, but ’tis all one to me, so I never see him again. ** Who was bis lord?” inquired neighbor Picot, curiously. ‘‘Him they call the Master of Coucy. They say he hath sold his soul to the devil in timeay past, but that is none of our affair. Let us leav’s the lords alone, neighbor Picot.” But neighbor Picot was curious. **De Coucy!” he repeated. ‘‘ Why it is the Dame de Coucy who was with the duchess te- day and whose knight won the last course.” ‘True, true, but she is a widow. They sa yy neighbor—I don’t know how true it is—that her « husband was beheaded by his cousin, who sola his head to the Turks.” ** That cannot be,” retorted Picot, obstinately. “She was all in white to-day like a bride, and widows dress in black. I saw her, after the tourney was over, ride into the city with the Count of Toulouse, and they went straight te the house of Bonhomme the Saker in the street. of Black Lions,” Denis started slightly, and his armor rattled, . He had come to a clew at last. Stephen the Tanner heard the ¢lank and looked suspiciously” over into the shadows. ‘*“Chut! Pivot, one listens,” he muttered; and Picot and he drew back into the shop, where their voices were no more audible. Denis hesitated a moment and then entered the shop after them, much to the consternation of the worthy tanner, who knew from the clank of armor under the cloak that the intruder was. one of those men-at-arms from whom he had al- ready rienced such rough treatment. The saddlery was the only Te around where: there was any light, till the Hotel de Ville, brilliantly illuminated, was reached on the op posite side of the square, Denis knew his man before he entered, and judged that Picot was not much bolder, so that 1c had fully made up his mind to bully bis way to further infc rmation, Setting his back against the door, he threw™ open his cloak and allowed the lamp light te gleam on his armor, as he said: “My worthy friends, go on with your talking a 4 MIGDOO € (E(0) = ce Ss) r=