The White Gauntlet Part 20

The spectators had discontinued their shouts; and once more a profound silence reigned throughout the camp. It was like the silence that precedes some expected catastrophe--some crisis inevitable.

From the beginning his pursuer had kept constantly gaining upon him.

The fore hoofs of the sable charger now appeared at every bound to overlap the hind heels of his own horse. Should the chase continue but a minute longer, he must certainly be overtaken; for the blade of the cavalier was gleaming scarce ten feet behind his back. The climax was near.

"Surrender, or yield up your life!" demanded Holtspur in a determined voice.

"Never!" was the equally determined reply. "Richard Scarthe never surrenders--least of all to--"

"Your blood on your own head, then!" cried the black horseman, at the same instant urging his horse to a final burst of speed.

The latter gave a long leap forward, bringing him side by side with the steed of the cuira.s.sier. At the same instant Holtspur's sword was seen thrust horizontally outwards.

A cry went up from the crowd, who expected next moment to see the cuira.s.sier captain impaled upon that s.h.i.+ning blade. The cuira.s.s of the time consisted only of the breast-plate; and the back of the wearer was left unprotected.

Undoubtedly in another instant Scarthe would have received his death wound, but for an accident that saved him. As Holtspur's horse leaped forward the hind heels of the other struck against his off fore leg causing him slightly to swerve, and thus changing the direction of the sword-thrust. It saved the life of Scarthe, though not his limbs: for the blade of his antagonist entering his right arm, just under the shoulder, pa.s.sed clear through--striking against the steel rear-brace in front, and sending his own sword s.h.i.+vering into the air.

The cuira.s.sier captain, dismounted by the shock, in another instant lay sprawling upon the gra.s.s; while his horse, with trailing bridle, continued his onward gallop, wildly neighing as he went.

"Cry quarter, or die!" shouted the cavalier, flinging himself from his saddle, and with his left hand grasping the cuira.s.sier by the gorget, while in his right he held the threatening blade. "Cry quarter, or die!"

"Hold!" exclaimed Scarthe. "Hold!" he repeated, with the addition of a bitter oath. "This time the chance has been yours. I take quarter."

"Enough," said Holtspur, as he restored his sword to its sheath. Then turning his back upon his vanquished antagonist, he walked silently away.

The spectators descended from their elevated position; and, cl.u.s.tering around the conqueror, vociferated their cheers and congratulations. A girl in a crimson cloak ran up, and kneeling in front, presented him with a bunch of flowers. It was the insulted maiden, who thus gracefully acknowledged her grat.i.tude.

There were two pairs of eyes that witnessed this last episode, with an expression that spoke of pain: the blue eyes of Marion Wade, and the green ones of Will Walford--the representative of England's outlaw. The original Robin could never have been more jealous of the original Maid Marian.

Marion Wade witnessed the presentation of the flowers, and their reception. She saw that the gift was acknowledged by a bow and a smile--both apparently gracious. It never occurred to her to ask herself the question: whether the recipient, under the circ.u.mstances, could have acted otherwise?

She stayed not to witness more; but, with brain distraught, and bosom filled with fell fancies, she glided across the glacis of the old encampment, and in hurried steps sought the sacred shelter of her father's roof.

Though _hors de combat_, Scarthe was not fatally hurt. He had received only the one thrust--which, pa.s.sing through his right arm, had disabled him for the time; but was not likely to do him any permanent injury.

He was worse damaged in spirit than in person; and the purple gloom that overshadowed his countenance, told his followers, and others who had gathered around him, that no expression either of sympathy, or congratulation, would be welcome.

In silence, therefore, a.s.sistance was extended to him, and in silence was it received.

As soon as the braces had been stripped from his wounded arm, and the semi-surgeon of his troop having stemmed its bleeding, had placed it in a sling, he forsook the spot where he had fallen; and walked direct towards the place occupied by Sir Marmaduke and his friends.

The ladies had already taken their departure--the sanguinary incident having robbed them of all zest for the enjoyment of any further sports.

The knight had remained upon the ground--chiefly for the purpose of discovering the object of Captain Scarthe's presence in his park.

He was determined no longer to remain in ignorance as to the cause of the intrusion; and was about starting out to question the intruder himself, when the approach of the latter admonished him to keep his place.

From Scarthe's looks, as he came forward, it was evident that an _eclairciss.e.m.e.nt_ was at hand.

Sir Marmaduke remained silent--leaving the stranger to commence the colloquy, which was now inevitable.

As soon as Scarthe had got within speaking distance, he demanded, in an authoritative tone, whether Sir Marmaduke Wade was present upon the ground.

The interrogatory was addressed to the rustics standing upon the sward below.

They, perceiving that Sir Marmaduke had himself heard it, kept silence-- not knowing whether their host might desire an affirmative answer to be given.

The tone of impertinence prevented Sir Marmaduke from replying; and the interrogatory was repeated.

Sir Marmaduke could no longer preserve silence.

"He _is_ present," said he, without qualifying his answer by any t.i.tle, or salutation. "_I_ am Sir Marmaduke Wade."

"I am glad of it, good sir. I want to speak a word with you. Shall it be private? I perceive you are in company."

"I can hold no private conversation with strangers," replied the knight, drawing himself proudly up. "Whatever you have to say, sir, may be spoken aloud."

"As you wish, Sir Marmaduke," acquiesced Scarthe, in a tone of mock courtesy. "But if, to my misfortune, you and I have been hitherto strangers to each other, I live in hope that this unpleasant condition of things will soon come to an end; and that henceforth we shall be better acquainted."

"What mean you, sir? Why are you here?"

"I am here, Sir Marmaduke, to claim the hospitality of your house. By the way, a very handsome park, and apparently a commodious mansion.

Room enough for all my people, I should think? It would scarce be courtesy between us, if eating, drinking, and sleeping under the same roof, we should remain strangers to one another?"

"Eating, drinking, and sleeping under the the same roof! You are merry, sir!"

"With the prospect of such pleasant quarters, could you expect me to be otherwise, Sir Marmaduke?"

"After the lesson you have just received," replied the knight, returning irony for irony, "one might expect to find you in a more serious frame of spirit."

"Captain Scarthe can show too many scars to trouble himself about such a trifle as that you allude to. But we are wasting time, Sir Marmaduke.

I am hungry: so are my troopers; and thirsty. We feel inclined to eat and drink."

"You are welcome to do both one and the other. You will find an inn three miles farther up the road."

"Nearer than that," rejoined Scarthe, with an insulting laugh, "that's _our_ inn."

And as he said this, he pointed to the mansion of Sir Marmaduke, standing proud and conspicuous on the crest of the opposite hill.

"Come, sir!" said the knight, losing patience, "speak no longer in enigmas. Declare openly, and at once, what you are driving at!"

"I am only too desirous to oblige you, Sir Marmaduke. Standing in need of refreshments as I do, I can a.s.sure you I have no wish to procrastinate this unseemly interview. Cornet Stubbs!" he continued, turning to his subaltern; "if I'm not mistaken, you carry a piece of royal parchment in your pocket. Please draw it forth; and do this worthy gentleman the favour to make him acquainted with its contents."

The cornet, who had re-encased himself in his suit of steel, inserted his fingers under the breast-piece of his cuira.s.s; and presently produced a folded parchment, upon which a large red seal was conspicuous. Unfolding it, he read aloud:--

"_The King to Sir Marmaduke Wade_.

"_His Majesty hearing by good report, of ye loyalty of Sir Marmaduke Wade, of Bulstrode Park, in ye s.h.i.+re of Buckingham, doth hereby entrust to him ye keep and maintenance of ye Captain Scarthe and his troop of horse till such time as his Majesty may need ye same for ye service of his kingdom; and, furthermore, his Majestie do recommend ye said Captain Scarthe to ye hospitality of Sir Marmaduke as a worthy and gallant officer and gentleman, who has done good service to his country and king_.