"Where be the true men?"
"Here be we.God bless you all! God bless you!"There was a rush to the stairs, and half-a-dozen hard but friendly hands were held out and grasped them warmly.
"Y'have saved our lives, lads," cried Denys, "y'have saved our lives this night."A wild sight met the eyes of the rescued pair.The room flaring with torches, the glittering breastplates of the archers, their bronzed faces, the white cheeks of the bound thieves, and the bleeding giant, whose dead body these hard men left lying there in its own gore.
Gerard went round the archers and took them each by the hand with glistening eyes, and on this they all kissed him; and this time he kissed them in return.Then he said to one handsome archer of his own age, "Prithee, good soldier, have an eye to me.A strange drowsiness overcomes me.Let no one cut my throat while I sleep -for pity's sake."
The archer promised with a laugh; for he thought Gerard was jesting: and the latter went off into a deep sleep almost immediately.
Denys was surprised at this: but did not interfere; for it suited his immediate purpose.A couple of archers were inspecting the Abbot's body, turning it half over with their feet, and inquiring, "Which of the two had flung this enormous rogue down from an upper storey like that; they would fain have the trick of his arm.
Denys at first pished and pshawed, but dared not play the braggart, for he said to himself, "That young vagabond will break in and say 'twas the finger of Heaven, and no mortal arm, or some such stuff, and make me look like a fool." But now, seeing Gerard unconscious, he suddenly gave this required information.
"Well, then, you see, comrades, I had run my sword through this one up to the hilt, and one or two more of 'em came buzzing about me; so it behoved me have my sword or die: so I just put my foot against his stomach, gave a tug with my hand and a spring with my foot, and sent him flying to kingdom come! He died in the air, and his carrion rolled in amongst you without ceremony: made you jump, I warrant me.But pikestaves and pillage! what avails prattling of, these trifles once they are gone by? buvons, camarades, buvons.
The archers remarked that it was easy to say "buvons" where no liquor was, but not so easy to do it.
"Nay, I'll soon find you liquor.My nose hath a natural alacrity at scenting out the wine.You follow me: and I my nose: bring a torch!" And they left the room, and finding a short flight of stone steps, descended them and entered a large, low, damp cellar.
It smelt close and dank: and the walls were encrusted here and there with what seemed cobwebs; but proved to be saltpetre that had oozed out of the damp stones and crystallized.
"Oh! the fine mouldy smell," said Denys; "in such places still lurks the good wine; advance thy torch.Diable! what is that in the corner? A pile of rags? No: 'tis a man."They gathered round with the torch, and lo! a figure crouched on a heap in the corner, pale as ashes and shivering.
"Why, it is the landlord," said Denys.
"Get up, thou craven heart!" shouted one of the archers.
"Why, man, the thieves are bound, and we are dry that bound them.
Up! and show us thy wine; for no bottles see here.""What, be the rascals bound?" stammered the pale landlord; "good news.W-w-wine? that will I, honest sirs."And he rose with unsure joints and offered to lead the way to the wine cellar.But Denys interposed."You are all in the dark, comrades.He is in league with the thieves.""Alack, good soldier, me in league with the accursed robbers! Is that reasonable?""The girl said so anyway."
"The girl! What girl? Ah! Curse her, traitress!""Well," interposed the other archer; "the girl is not here, but gone on to the bailiff.So let the burghers settle whether this craven be guilty or no: for we caught him not in the act: and let him draw us our wine.""One moment," said Denys shrewdly."Why cursed he the girl? If he be a true man, he should bless her as we do.""Alas, sir!" said the landlord, "I have but my good name to live by, and I cursed her to you, because you said she had belied me.""Humph! I trow thou art a thief, and where is the thief that cannot lie with a smooth face? Therefore hold him, comrades: a prisoner can draw wine an if his hands be not bound."The landlord offered no objection; but on the contrary said he would with pleasure show them where his little stock of wine was, but hoped they would pay for what they should drink, for his rent was due this two months.
The archers smiled grimly at his simplicity, as they thought it;one of them laid a hand quietly but firmly on his shoulder, the other led on with the torch.
They had reached the threshold when Denys cried "Halt!""What is't?"
"Here be bottles in this corner; advance thy light."The torch-bearer went towards him.He had just taken off his scabbard and was probing the heap the landlord had just been crouched upon.
"Nay, nay," cried the landlord, "the wine is in the next cellar.
There is nothing there."
"Nothing is mighty hard, then," said Denys, and drew out something with his hand from the heap.
It proved to be only a bone.
Denys threw it on the floor: it rattled.
"There is nought there but the bones of the house," said the landlord.
"Just now 'twas nothing.Now that we have found something 'tis nothing but bones.Here's another.Humph? look at this one, comrade; and you come too and look at it, and bring you smooth knave along."The archer with the torch, whose name was Philippe, held the bone to the light and turned it round and round.
"Well?" said Denys.
"Well, if this was a field of battle, I should say 'twas the shankbone of a man; no more, no less.But 'tisn't a battlefield, nor a churchyard; 'tis an inn.""True, mate; but yon knave's ashy face is as good a light to me as a field of battle.I read the bone by it, Bring yon face nearer, Isay.When the chine is amissing, and the house dog can't look at you without his tail creeping between his legs, who was the thief?
