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Page 36
'"If I had known this," said Fulke, catching his breath, "I would never
have lifted hand against Pevensey. Only lack of this yellow stuff has
made me so unlucky in my dealings."
'It was dawn then, and they stirred in the Great Hall below. We sent
down Fulke's mail to be scoured, and when he rode away at noon under his
own and the King's banner, very splendid and stately did he show. He
smoothed his long beard, and called his son to his stirrup and kissed
him. De Aquila rode with him as far as the New Mill landward. We thought
the night had been all a dream.'
'But did he make it right with the King?' Dan asked. 'About your not
being traitors, I mean.'
Sir Richard smiled. 'The King sent no second summons to Pevensey, nor
did he ask why De Aquila had not obeyed the first. Yes, that was Fulke's
work. I know not how he did it, but it was well and swiftly done.'
'Then you didn't do anything to his son?' said Una.
'The boy? Oh, he was an imp! He turned the keep doors out of dortoirs
while we had him. He sang foul songs, learned in the Barons' camps--poor
fool; he set the hounds fighting in Hall; he lit the rushes to drive
out, as he said, the fleas; he drew his dagger on Jehan, who threw him
down the stairway for it; and he rode his horse through crops and among
sheep. But when we had beaten him, and showed him wolf and deer, he
followed us old men like a young, eager hound, and called us "uncle".
His father came the summer's end to take him away, but the boy had no
lust to go, because of the otter-hunting, and he stayed on till the
fox-hunting. I gave him a bittern's claw to bring him good luck at
shooting. An imp, if ever there was!'
'And what happened to Gilbert?' said Dan.
'Not even a whipping. De Aquila said he would sooner a clerk, however
false, that knew the Manor-roll than a fool, however true, that must be
taught his work afresh. Moreover, after that night I think Gilbert loved
as much as he feared De Aquila. At least he would not leave us--not even
when Vivian, the King's Clerk, would have made him Sacristan of Battle
Abbey. A false fellow, but, in his fashion, bold.'
'Did Robert ever land in Pevensey after all?' Dan went on.
'We guarded the coast too well while Henry was fighting his Barons; and
three or four years later, when England had peace, Henry crossed to
Normandy and showed his brother some work at Tenchebrai that cured
Robert of fighting. Many of Henry's men sailed from Pevensey to that
war. Fulke came, I remember, and we all four lay in the little chamber
once again, and drank together. De Aquila was right. One should not
judge men. Fulke was merry. Yes, always merry--with a catch in his
breath.'
'And what did you do afterwards?' said Una.
'We talked together of times past. That is all men can do when they grow
old, little maid.'
The bell for tea rang faintly across the meadows. Dan lay in the bows of
the _Golden Hind_; Una in the stern, the book of verses open in her lap,
was reading from 'The Slave's Dream':
'Again, in the mist and shadow of sleep,
He saw his native land.'
'I don't know when you began that,' said Dan, sleepily.
On the middle thwart of the boat, beside Una's sun-bonnet, lay an Oak
leaf, an Ash leaf, and a Thorn leaf, that must have dropped down from
the trees above; and the brook giggled as though it had just seen some
joke.
THE RUNES ON WELAND'S SWORD
A Smith makes me
To betray my Man
In my first fight.
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