Читать книгу Malvern Chase - W. S. Symonds - Страница 6

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As I rode homewards I could not help thinking of Rosamond, and a change of feeling respecting her, which had come over me of late, and which I did not altogether understand. We had been much together as boy and girl, but I had also seen much of Bessie Kitel and Kate Brydges of Eastington. Yet, I was now almost afraid of Rosamond, afraid of doing something she did not like, or saying something of which she did not approve, and her face always haunted me, go where I would. If I mounted "Roan Roland" or "Bold Harry," they always would carry me towards Berew, and I always blushed when I got there and wondered how they could be so stupid, especially when I found John Berew only at home, and Rosamond away searching for wild flowers on the hills. To her I owed all my knowledge of the herbs of the forest glades, so good for medicaments, taught her by Mary of Eldersfield and the Sub-Prior of Pendyke.

Many a time have I walked across the Malverns, or the Gullet Pass, where alone I could gather sufficient whortleberries for a comfiture for Master Berew, and receive for my reward a smile from Rosamond. Then there was the bee flower which grows upon the hill of Berew, but never in the vale, with which Rosamond loved to deck her hair in the pleasant month of June! I knew where the first blossoms were to be found in an old stone-pit, among stone oyster shells which look as if fresh from the sea. But Rosamond's favourite flower was the "nodding star of Bethlehem," with its white silvery blossoms, among the yellow broom and gorse of Broomsbarrow. Long distances have I walked for these flowers and others, such as wild mint and sages, with which Rosamond would make medicaments for the poor and sick, for she was never happier than when doing some kind service for others. But now, and I could not account for it, we seemed somewhat estranged from each other, and she called me "Master Hildebrande," whereas she once said "Hildebrande." Thoughts of this kind passed through my mind as I neared my own home!

I found my father and mother seated in the panelled chamber, the internal adornment of which my father had superintended. In my grandfather's time, the walls were bare, or only covered here and there with worn tapestry. The noble chimney-piece was my father's own design, and the armorial bearings of the various friends who visited us from time to time were painted above each panel and were the work of a foreign artist. Here are the arms of Scudamore of Kentchurch, whose grandmother was a daughter of Owen Glendower, and the Baskervilles of Erdisley who came over with the Conqueror, Blount of Eye, Bromwich of Broomsbarrow, Throcmorton, Rudhall, Vaughan of Hergest, all old friends of my father and mother. My father was clad in the long manteline which he wore in the house, and which was well suited to a scholar. His beloved parchments were on one side and mother on the other, as was her custom when night drew on. A letter, with the silk only lately cut, lay upon her lap, and tears were in her eyes, and both of them seemed impressed by news of great importance.

When I had related the events of the day, my father said:-

"You are aware, Hildebrande, that the present King's marriage with Margaret of Anjou has been the commencement of a series of troubles from about the time of your birth to the present day. Within two years of that marriage in the year 1445 the good Duke Humphrey was murdered. Before Margaret had been Queen seven years, the noble Duke, Richard of York, who many, like myself, believed to be the legitimate King, was ignominiously cast into prison, and probably would have been there now, or in another world, but for us Marchmen, who railed round his standard at Wigmore, and frightened the Queen and the Council into setting him at liberty.

"The year of grace 1454 saw the noble York lieutenant to the King, when Queen Margaret was delivered of a sort who few believe to be the son of the imbecile Henry. Through the intrigues of the unscrupulous Margaret, Edmund Beaufort was placed in power until the battle of St. Alban's, when Somerset was killed and King Henry taken prisoner. This occurred four years ago and a peace has been patched up, when now I have just received a letter to inform me that the Queen, dragging the King in her train, has marched on Ludlow at the head of 60,000 men, and that, owing to the treachery of Sire Andrew Trollop, the Duke of York and his son the Earl of March, with the great Warwick, are all fugitives from her who spares neither friend nor foe if they interfere with her ambitious projects.

"This letter informs me that the Duke of York has escaped to Ireland, that his son Edward of March has fled to Gloucester, and the Earl of Warwick is safe at his castle of Hanley, only a few miles from hence. Edward's situation is most precarious, there are only too many who would betray him to the vindictive Queen, and she would rejoice at getting the heir of York into her eagle clutches. Not a moment must be lost in bringing him safe, by unfrequented paths, through the forest to Hanley Castle, where Warwick may make a stand, until we who love the White Rose can rally round him, and save the country and ourselves from ruin.

"Lord Edward of March is now at the Forester's lodge at Wainlode in the Chase of Gloucester, and it is evident that you have fallen in with him to-day in company with the forester, who is true as he is brave, and would defend him to the death; but Trollop's minions are already on the track, and it is madness for March to be flying falcons when he should be flying for his life. I must ride for Hanley Castle before the sun rises to-morrow, to arrange with Warwick the summoning of the adherents of the White Rose again to arms. You, I would have to ride with the grey dawn of morning to Wainlode. Take Hasting with you, and this letter for Edward of March. It is a missive from the Earl of Warwick, and Lord Edward will not hesitate to place himself under your guidance, while you must be guided by circumstances whether you will conduct him straight to Hartley, or bring him here until we can safely deliver him to the care of Warwick."

"The House of York, Hildebrande," he continued, "is the only hope of those reformers whom men call Lollards, who in this country protest against the exactions and encroachments of the Roman Pontiffs, and who hold by the tenets and opinions of such as John de Wyckliffe. These noble Lords are now in the greatest danger, and it becomes you and I, if necessary, to die for our faith, and those who would aid us. In the meantime let me show you a secret of this house, the chamber in which Sire John Oldcastle was hidden, a secret which no one knows but myself and your mother, and I now entrust it to you."

He then led me to one of the oaken panels close to the great chimney, and touching a secret spring a door flew open and revealed a recess large enough to hold two men standing. There was no apparent escape from this recess save by the secret door into the chamber, but my father showed me in the thick wall a large stone which had been pierced and suspended on an iron rod, and fastened on the inside like a trap door. This stone, when swung upwards, permitted the passage of a man out to the terrace in front and the moat, from whence in a boat it was easy to cross to the land and out into the forest. My father explained how in my grandfather's time the secret chamber was hidden only by tapestry, and how he had himself invented the panelled door and spring. "It may happen," said he, "that we may require to use this secret for ourselves, or others, in troublous times like these, for no man can calculate what may happen on the morrow."

I mounted a fresh horse at sunrise on the following morning, and, accompanied by Hasting, rode quickly by the avenue of great elms which reached from the moat, across the park to the trackway to Branshill and Ledbury. The blackbirds were singing and the swallows skimming over the grass, the young leaves were bursting forth in the trees, and the Malverns were clad in their green spring mantle, with the canopy of a blue sky over all. My thoughts were so occupied with the sudden fall of the Duke of York and Earl of Warwick, and the dispersion of their followers near Ludlow, that I said little to Hasting as we rode on, until we were close under Gadbury Camp, near to the Norman church of Eldersfield.

This camp was an important stronghold in the forest, when the Romans held the line of the Severn, and the British, under their chief Caractacus, defended the barrier of the Malverns inch by inch. Strongly fortified by nature in its steep sides, there is a level platform on its summit, where a large force could be arrayed for battle. It was now deserted and surrounded by dense woodlands, the only access being a narrow pathway on the south. The camp is a large flat area without trees, and nothing grew there save brush-wood, gorse, and long grass.

The absence of trees was accounted for by the fact that the noted "white witch," called the "Witch of Eldersfield," frequented this isolated spot, and was said to summon the Devil to assist her, and to visit the moon.

Hasting told me that only the year previous no less than forty wondrous cures had been ascribed to the White Witch, who lived on the camp. An instance of her evil doings had happened to the head forester of Gloucester Chase in the thickets on the flanks of Gadbury. He had gone forth in search of a stag of great size which was known to frequent a part of the chase known as "Pudden Crok," and on climbing the Crok he found the deer browsing beneath a large oak. He was enabled to obtain a close shot, and the animal, badly wounded, rushed down the steep bank and took refuge in the woodlands on the slopes of Gadbury. Arriving at a dense thicket he heard the stag moaning and dying in the bushes; he cut a path through the underwood, but there was no sign of any stag or struggle, not a blade of grass was disturbed, not a leaf moved, but he heard, on the platform above, a peal of laughter, as if the witch had summoned some unearthly companion to her revels. Night was approaching, and the forester returned to his lodge convinced that foul spirits obeyed the commands of the accursed witch, and that the black stag was a black fiend.

I listened with a smile to this tale, and, telling Hasting that I had heard that the witch was only a herbalist, touched my horse with the spur, and we trotted as fast as the muddy paths would allow towards the horse ferry by which we were to cross the ferry at Ashleworth. We had almost reached the river when the sound of a horse at full gallop behind us made us pause to discover who was the rider.

It proved to be Rosamond Berew on her grey jennet all alone, hot with her ride, and looking anxious and alarmed. There was little time for greeting, and she said, as she pulled up her jennet:-

"Master Hildebrande, for God's sake do not attempt to cross at the ferry. Not many minutes after you started, a message arrived from Lord Warwick to your father to inform him that more than two hundred archers, led by the traitor Sire Andrew Trollop, are now in our Chase in search of those Yorkists who escaped from before Ludlow, and that a high price is set upon the heads of all the leaders of the House of York. Your father had started for Hanley Castle, and your respected mother herself rode up to our poor house at Berew to beg of my brother to gallop after you, lest you should fall into some ambush. Trollop himself is with his bloodhounds, and is sure to make for the ferry at Ashleworth. John was out with the kine, so I mounted 'Grey Bess,' and rejoice greatly, Master Hildebrande, that I have overtaken you in time."

This was a dilemma! Swimming the river on horseback was not to be thought of, as we must keep our horses fresh; we therefore determined to ride up the right bank to a boat ferry at a place called the Haw, and that Hasting should remain there while I crossed in a boat and proceeded on foot to the Lodge at Wainlode. Time would be lost, but there was no help for it.

Entreating Rosamond to seek the most unfrequented paths on her return, I begged the posie she wore in her bosom, of rue and rosemary--the one for grace the other for remembrance--and arriving at the Haw I soon was on the other side of the water.

I ran rapidly by the green meadows on the Severn side, where the comfrey, so excellent for bruises, was just showing its lilac blossoms, and soon reached the woodlands which at Wainlode surmounted the steep cliff above the river.

The forester's lodge was erected near to this cliff, close upon the river bank. It was built much after the fashion of the one Hasting frequented in the , but much larger, and was opposite the spot where the wains or waggons, loaded with corn for Gloucester, came once a year, when their burdens were placed on rafts and sent across the Severn. Thus it was called Wainlode.

The bark of many dogs gave notice of my arrival, and I was some little distance from the lodge when the forester accompanied by a couple of woodmen, armed, met me, as I was running, with the question, "What tidings?" Taking the forester aside, I told him that the archers of Sire Andrew Trollop were searching in every direction, on the other side of the water, for the followers of York and Warwick, who were now fugitives from the wrath of the Lancastrians, and that I was the bearer of a missive from Lord Warwick to Edward, Earl of March, and who from my description my father believed to be the young nobleman I had seen the day before.

"It is he, and no other," said the forester, "and right glad should I be if he was safe at Hanley Castle, for King Henry's scouts are all around this country. Theocsbury is ill-affected to the House of York, and Gloucester would shield him if it were possible, but Trollop (may he be accursed as a foul traitor) has arrived there, with a host of archers from Hereford. Only this morning men-at-arms were seen upon our hill. I am not suspected, or they would soon be here."

He then conducted me to the lodge, and we found Lord Edward standing within the high palisades which surrounded it. He was caressing a boar-hound, and received me with a courteous bow of recognition. He did not wear the falconer's dress as before, but was clad in a suit of hunter's green, which showed the proportions of his powerful frame to great advantage.

Bending on one knee and doffing my cap, I presented Lord Warwick's letter, which he read without evincing the slightest emotion, and merely remarked, "We shall deal with these tyrants yet. Warwick is safe in his castle at Hanley, and my noble father has by this time crossed the seas to Ireland."

The Master Forester now came forward and informed him that his safety was compromised by the appearance of Trollop at Gloucester, and that had parties of scouts distributed in hopes of his capture or that of any other fugitive Yorkist. He therefore recommended Lord Edward to accept my offers of guidance by the unfrequented forest rides to Hanley Castle, as on that side of the Severn many espoused the cause of Henry of Lancaster, while on the other side many of the houses would advance the banners of the White Rose.

The young Earl thus addressed me: "Will you be my guide, good Sir? Warwick says in this missive that the De Brutes, of whom I suppose you to be a scion, are men of honour. Serve me in this strait, and if I live, I will serve you in turn. A Plantagenet never forgets a kindness."

I then hastened to assure him that my life was at his service, and proposed my plan of escape. The forester also suggested that Lord Edward should be disguised, and go forth with the dogs in the direction of the Haw, as if for hunting. The Earl consented, and the forester winding his horn for "the rally," in a short time a dozen woodmen assembled at the well-known call. Lord Edward was arrayed in a rough leather jerkin and long boots and buskins, a cap with long lappets which fell over the cheeks and covered his long fair hair, and a bill in his hand. In this dress it was almost impossible to recognise the dashing young nobleman of the previous day, now turned into John Ball.

We had left the hunting lodge less than half an hour when the glittering of steel caps was seen on the banks of the Severn, and soon we heard the tramp of horses and the clatter of arms. The forester begged of Lord Edward to show himself as little as possible and keep well among the thickest of the wood, acting as a driver of the game. He then called to me to accompany him and descended towards the river bank, where he busily engaged himself in looking for the track of an imaginary stag.

Five or six horsemen armed from head to foot rode up to us, and the officer in command inquired if we had tidings of the escape of certain Yorkists in the general flight from Ludlow, as both the Duke of York and his son, Lord Edward of March, were believed to have taken refuge in the Chase of Malvern or to have crossed to that of Gloucester. Sire Andrew Trollop, he said, had arrived at Gloucester, while the Duke of Somerset had despatched bands of scouts from Worcester, and good hopes were entertained of their capture. Tidings had been brought, he said, of the appearance of a strange nobleman who was seen searching for herons along the river flats.

The forester replied that Sire John de Guyse and Lord Berkeley had indeed been there, but had both departed for Gloucester the day before.

"Well then," replied the officer, "I charge you in the king's name and of Sire Andrew Trollop, knight, commissioned by the right honourable parliament of England, now assembled at Coventry, to summon your followers and assist me, John Salwey, of Ludlow, in apprehending the followers of the Duke of York who rose in rebellion against our Lord the King, and who are now believed to be hidden in the Chase over which you have the care and keeping. I am sorry to spoil your hunting, but there are stags on foot better worth our capture, for the heads of these traitors are worth a thousand merks apiece. Sound, therefore, your bugle-horn, and let your woodmen join us in the search."

"Have you," he continued, "for I am a stranger in this country, any idea where these rebels may have taken shelter?"

A gleam of intelligence passed across the face of the Master Forester, which, observed by both Master Salwey and myself, was interpreted by us in a very different light "By my halidame," he replied, "I expect the Rector of Down Hatherley is a malcontent who would gladly shelter any one of the House of York or Warwick," though he well knew the Rector was a staunch Lancastrian! "Also," he said, "there is Master Paunceforte the other side the water, at Hasfield Moat House; we must send a couple of trusty men to invite his aid, until we can ourselves cross and conduct a search." "But we must first to Hatherley," he said to Salwey, "a thousand merks is indeed a goodly sum."

Then he told me to take John Ball, the woodman, and crossing the ferry at the Haw to proceed to Hasfield, and warn them of the party of Lancastrian searchers and the quarry they hunted.

I at once took the hint, leaving Salwey and his men in the care of one who I perceived was quite capable of putting them well on the chase of the wild-goose, while I carried off the stag. I now joined Lord Edward in the thickets, and beckoning him to follow in silence, led him in the direction of the ferry by a narrow path through the forest from Wainlode to Apperley.

We had not gone far before we heard the forester's horn calling up his woodmen, and I knew that all the party were well offto Down Hatherley in the opposite direction, so slackened speed, when Lord Edward, coming up somewhat breathless, said:-

"I hope this pace will not last long, for I am well nigh winded, and this leather jerkin and these buskins are not meant for such travelling. Whither now, and what tidings?"

I related what had passed, and he laughed heartily the ruse of the Master Forester.

We soon arrived at the boat at the Haw, and the ferryman said not a soul had been there since I crossed in the morning. Safe on the other side, a blast of horn soon brought Hasting and our steeds to the trackway which leads from the river to the forest paths.

We now learned that several armed men had inquired of Hasting what he was doing there, and whether any one had passed that way? He replied that his young master had gone to the lodge at Wainlode seeking to borrow a hound, and that he was waiting for his return. He overheard the leader of the troop say that other riders were stationed along the horse trackways which led through the forest.

Under these circumstances I determined to send Hasting ahead with the horses instead of our mounting them, as the fact of Lord Edward being seen on horseback in the woodman's dress would excite suspicion. So, telling Hasting to make for the church green at Eldersfield by the horse trackway, we at once took the footpaths by Chaseley in the same direction.

Threading the narrow and intricate forest paths of Chaseley by ways no horse could follow, we emerged near an open space called Eldersfield, so named from the abundance of elder trees, with their flowers so famous for eye ointments, and their berries for "honey rob" and black pigments.

Here in the wilderness the Normans built a church, and in the clearings of the forest had settled a few franklins and their churls, but the trackways are still difficult to find and the village is most remote and hidden.

As we emerged from the forest to the knoll on which stands the church, we saw a tall, somewhat masculine, middle-aged woman, with large black eyes of a most searching character, sitting upon a large stone, and carrying in her hand a great bunch of wild sages freshly gathered. I at once knew this could be no other than the celebrated "Mary of Eldersfield," whom some called a witch and others a herbalist. In former days she used to come to Berew and our Manor House, but latterly she had led the life of a recluse, going nowhere save to the house of sickness, where with her great skill and famous medicaments she was ever welcome.

She arose as we approached, and, with her peculiar long stride, advanced to meet us. Recognising me at once from my likeness to my father, she said, "Rosamond Berew bid me watch and tell you that wolves are abroad, and your road by the horse trackway already beset. Follow me!"

She led the way by a clearing to the borders of the forest, until we arrived at a rounded knoll, "the Pudden Krok," of which Hasting had related the tale of the marvellous stag. The "Krok" is covered with large yew trees, and Mary bid me mount one of these and to conceal myself as much as possible among the dense foliage while I scanned the valley below. On doing so I perceived that the trackway was full of soldiers between us and our destination, and that no horseman could pass without challenge. Our guide then put her fingers to her lips, and motioned to us to follow her.

Descending from the Krok in the direction of the Camp of Gadbury, she conducted us up a short steep slope to the perfectly level platform on the summit of the ancient stronghold. There were no trees, but the entire area was covered with dense scrub of gorse, honesty, ivy, and brambles, which was impenetrable save by the aid of the billhook. No path could we see until our guide pushed aside a mass of gorse and passed into a narrow cutting, which led through walls of scrub and thorns to the centre of the platform. Here was a strange structure of wooden logs, interlaced with twigs and bedaubed with mud. It was circular, with four slits looking north, south, east, and west, down narrow paths cut in the scrub, which were straight for a short distance and then winded through the thick underwood. The apertures could be closed at night with wooden doors, and were large enough to allow of escape from any one of them. The place was a remarkable contrivance for safety and retreat.

Inviting us to enter, our guide drew a bench from under a table and motioned us to be seated. Two brown owls, known as "hooters," blinked upon us from a wicker cage, and a large raven hopped upon the floor. With these, in apparent intimacy, was a large black cat, and outside, in a box of wooden strips, a blackbird was singing with all his might. A small wooden bedstead, a bench, a table, and a wooden cupboard was all the furniture the hut contained. On the table was a parchment covered with groups of stars, and a number of dried plants arranged in bundles; also several adders were dried and hung by their tails from the wooden logs of the walls. Dried newts hung about in clusters.

Such was the furniture within the dwelling of the famed "Witch of Eldersfield," who was celebrated for her wonderful cures both of man and beast, and the good which ever waited on her pharmacy.

I observed that Lord Edward surveyed this dwelling and its surroundings with a suspicious look, as if we had entered into a witch's den, which Mary observing said, "Fear not, Sir, these are but nostrums for fevers and rheumatism, and neither Tab or her mistress ever injured man or beast."

We had not, however, been long within the dwelling when the sound of a bugle-horn among the gorse showed that the Lancastrians had ascended the hill and might discover the retreat of the herbalist. On this, Mary led us down one of the paths through dense scrub down the hill, and below we could see the glitter of the steel caps of the soldiery, and hear their shouts to their companions on the platform.

Pointing, to a large oak, the trunk of which appeared as firm and sound as that of any tree of the forest, she whispered to Lord Edward that there was a hollow in the middle fork where he might lie hidden, and begged of him to ascend the tree and there wait in shelter until we returned on the removal of the soldiers.

Having seen him safely hidden in the hollow of the oak, Mary returned to her retreat upon the platform, while I descended the hill towards the trackway, as I had no fear, clad as I was in the hunter's dress of the ??, that I should be mistaken for a fugitive Yorkist. In the meantime it struck me that the hollow oak might be the cause of the sudden disappearance of the "Witch of Eldersfield," which certain tales of the surrounding peasantry recounted.

On reaching the trackway I saw our own horses and Hasting surrounded by a troop of men-at-arms. They were led by an officer clad in a stout jerkin of green, with yellow buskins, and wearing a steel bonnet projecting far over the face. He was speaking roughly to Hasting when I walked forward boar-spear in hand.

As I wore the crest of our house, the Talbot, embroidered upon the sleeve of my jerkin, he saw I was of gentle blood, and said, "Pardon, Sir, I asked your follower a plain question and I cannot get a plain answer. I inquired if he had seen a young man of tall and comely stature, with blue eyes and fair hair, and he tells me 'he knows the spoor of a boar from the stud of a stag'--at least such I understand to be the drift of his unintelligible speech."

I apologised for Hasting, who spoke only the Saxon dialect so prevalent in our forest land, and was ignorant of the French parlance of the more cultivated classes. Observing the velvet with which his jerkin was trimmed, I knew that the Lancastrian was of knightly order, so I made the low bow usual in addressing one of his rank and station.

"I am Sire Andrew Trollop," said the Knight, "and am engaged in searching for rebels and traitors to our Lord the King, and there is little doubt, from all we hear, that Edward of March, the eldest son and heir of that foul traitor the Duke of York, is in these wilds, having escaped from Wigmore." "And," he continued, "I never saw a better hiding-place than this Gadbury, or more formidable thickets to search for boar, or stag, or traitor. There are fifty men in those woodlands, and another half-score are gone to the summit, yet not a sign can be seen of any one of them. However, here come some of them."

As he spoke, several men-at-arms appeared leading or, rather dragging, Mary of Eldersfield, with the cry too often heard, "The witch! the witch!" One of the soldiers carried an owl with his neck twisted, another had a handful of dried beetles, another displayed some dried herbs and adder skins with as much pride as if they were the honourable trophies of war.

The impeachment of the Duchess of Gloucester for witchcraft, the burning of Margery Jourdayn at Smithfield, and the hanging of Roger Bolingbroke for necromancy were still topics of general conversation, and were examples of the fate one convicted of witchcraft was likely to meet with at the hands of the highest judges in the land. Courtiers, priests, and bishops went to see the burning of a witch, as they would the baiting of a bull. Nor was their example lost upon the lower classes. A man who was a student was very apt to be set down as a wizard, and the fact of such animals as owls and cats being seen in the house of an aged woman was enough to satisfy the soldiers of the undoubted witchcraft of our guide. But Mary was not old, nor ugly, nor withered, and even under the trying circumstances in which she was placed there was an air of dignity as she raised her tall form, and quietly awaited the judgment of the leader of the boisterous soldiery around.

Having heard the circumstances of her apprehension and looked at the contents of her dwelling displayed by the soldiers, Sire Andrew said: "We can give her the ordeal of the nearest water, and see whether she will sink or swim"--a judgment which was willingly acquiesced in by the soldiers, who, more in sport than in cruelty, would have tossed her into one of the large deep marl pits filled with water which are abundant in the neighbourhood.

It was time to interfere, and I said to Sire Andrew:

"This is no witch, she is merely a poor herbalist of the forest, who is well known for the cures effected by her nostrums; her witchments, if witchments they are, are for good and not for evil, and every village has some record of her healing.'

"I care nothing for her nostrums," said Trollop, with a glitter in his cruel grey eyes. "This is enough for me! I have burnt half-a-dozen hags, before now, for having in their possession less cunning means of necromancy and wicked philtering than these," and he held up the adder skins to my view. "She sinks or swims in that slough before we part."

"Not while I am present, Sire Andrew Trollop," I said. "I will not stand by and see an innocent woman put to the torture of the ordeal you propose, because a set of ignorant soldiers choose to imagine that she is a witch."

The Lancastrian paled with passion as he shouted:

"And pray, Master Springall, what is to prevent me from putting you into that horsepool, or hanging you to that oak? You propose to interfere with my commission, given at Worcester by our royal master, King Henry, which is to take and apprehend all witches and wizards, and malcontents such as you, and deal with them according to my best judgment, and that judgment is--"

"Gently, gently, Sire Andrew," said the officer in command of a large party of soldiers who had been searching Gadbury, and now joined their comrades, "I may not have you talk of hanging my good and excellent friend, Hildebrande de Brute." Then turning back his steel bonnet, he displayed the handsome face of Roger Calverley, of Branshill, who, at the head of his retainers, had, it seems, assisted the bully in his search for the Yorkists. "You are not in a country, Sire Andrew," he continued, "where even the king's writ will avail for such tyranny as you propose. It is such conduct as yours," he proceeded in a tone of the highest indignation, "which makes the name of Lancastrian to stink in the land, conduct utterly unworthy of a knight and gentleman."

Trollop was a coward, as all traitors are, and said he merely intended to give me a fright, and the ducking would do the witch no harm. "Ask the crone yourself, Master Calverley," he said, "what necromancy and philtering these portend," as he pointed to a bunch of snake sloughs in the hands of a soldier.

Calverley turned to Mary, and questioned her as to the uses of the various trophies from her dwelling. She replied that they were all used in pharmacy, and gave a short description of the different diseases to which they were applied. He then inquired from me what character the supposed witch bore amongst her neighbours in the forest villages, and I informed him that she went by the name of Mary of Eldersfield, and was most notable for her knowledge of herb pharmacy, and the efficacy of her nostrums.

Calverley then called me aside, and advised me to ride homewards and keep quiet for a time: "For you know," he said, "that your father is suspected of being a supporter of the House of York, and the Court is now determined to make examples of any that outwardly manifest their adherence to what now is a ruined cause, as you must know. In a short time the Yorkist leaders must be in the power of the Crown, and Queen Margaret never spares an enemy. This fellow," he said, alluding to Trollop, "is the traitor who betrayed York and Warwick, and I would willingly be rid of his company, for I hate traitors even if they serve our cause. He rode from Gloucester to Branshill early this morning with some half-score troopers, and a letter from Lord Belmore to my father asking for aid to search this side the Severn, as Edward of March is believed to be hiding in this immediate neighbourhood. Now, my good friend and brother of woodcraft, let me beg of you to lose no time in riding to your home at Birtsmereton, and when next we meet, I trust this storm will have passed away."

"We will ride on, Sir Knight," he said haughtily to Trollop, "it is not impossible that Edward of March may be sheltered in the thickets, though I, for one, would rather meet him on the battle-field than be seeking for him as I would for a murderer or a thief. Order your sleuth-hounds to stand back, Sir, and follow at a distance" (for Sire Andrew's half-score men at-arms came round their leader), "they are no company for the retainers of Branshill, who are soldiers, not witch-takers, or curs which hunt thieves." Then sounding three blasts upon the silver horn which hung at his baldrick, Calverley led the way slowly on the road to Hasfield, Trollop following, with a hang-dog look, behind.

I congratulated Mary of Eldersfield upon our escape; then, when the men-at-arms were out of sight, I told Hasting to remain where he was, and, accompanied by "The Witch," proceeded to the oak where I expected Lord Edward was chafing at his long confinement.

This was the case, and Lord Edward did not improve matters by his excessive hurry to descend from his hiding-place. No sooner had I assisted him from the hollow into the branches than he leaped down from the tree to the ground, and, falling heavily, sprained his knee so badly that he was almost incapable of standing, and the pain was very great.

The question now was, "What we should do?" To ascend the hill to Mary's hut was impossible, and it was not easy to reach the horses below. However, Mary was equal to the predicament, and telling me to remain quietly with Lord Edward, she strode up a pathway to her abode, and in a short time descended with a small phial of oil and a bunch of the "danewort." Begging me to cut away the top of Lord Edward's buskin with my dagger so as to expose the injured limb, she proceeded to rub in the oil. During the operation, I observed Lord Edward crossing himself from time to time with a singular expression of fear on his countenance for one who in danger was so collected and unmoved. After the rubbing he was not only able to stand, but with the aid of my arm to walk slowly towards the trackway where the horses were waiting, but he refused the aid of Mary's arm, which she offered more than once. I assisted him to mount "Roan Roland," and he then thanked Mary for her medicaments, adding, "May God, good woman, preserve you from the wiles of Satan."