Part 17 (1/2)
”There's big quarry there!” observed Geoffrey, tauntingly. ”Quite a royal bird.”
”So royal the male hawk could not bring it down by himself, I hear,”
Hubert replied. ”Nay, there's no use in waxing wroth, friend! My death now would clap thee in a tighter puzzle than thou art in already--and I should be able to laugh down at thee from a better world,” he added, mimicking the priestly cadence, and looking at Geoffrey half fierce and half laughing.
He was but an apprentice at robbery and violence, and in the bottom of his heart, where some honesty still was, he liked Geoffrey well. ”Time presses,” he continued. ”I must go. One thing thou must do. Let not that pit be opened till the monks of Oyster-le-Main come here. We shall come before noon.”
”I do not understand,” said Geoffrey.
[Ill.u.s.tration: Brother Hvbert goeth back to Oyster-le-Main for ye last Time]
”That's unimportant,” answered Hubert. ”Only play thy part. 'Tis a simple thing to keep a door shut. Fail, and the whole of us are undone. Farewell.”
”Nay, this is some foul trick,” Geoffrey declared, and laid his hand on Hubert.
But the other shook his head sadly. ”Dost suppose,” he said, ”that we should have abstained from any trick that's known to the acc.u.mulated wisdom of man? Our sport is up.”
”'Tis true,” Geoffrey said, musingly, ”we hold all of you in the hollow of one hand.”
”Thou canst make a present of us to the hangman in twenty minutes if thou choosest,” said Hubert.
”Though 'twould put me in quite as evil case.”
”Ho! what's the loss of a woman compared with death?” Hubert exclaimed.
”Thou'lt know some day,” the young knight said, eying Hubert with a certain pity; ”that is, if ever thou art lucky to love truly.”
”And is it so much as that?” murmured Hubert wistfully. ”'Twas good fortune for thee and thy sweetheart I did not return to look for my master while he was being taken to the pit,” he continued; ”we could have stopped all your mouths till the Day of Judgment at least.”
”Wouldst thou have slain a girl?” asked Geoffrey, stepping back.
”Not I, indeed! But for my master I would not be so sure. And he says I'll come as far as that in time,” added the apprentice with a shade of bitterness.
”Thou art a singular villain,” said Geoffrey, ”and wonderfully frank spoken.”
”And so thou'rt to be married?” Hubert said gently.
”By this next noon, if all goes well!” exclaimed the lover with ardour.
”Heigho!” sighed Hubert, turning to go, ”'twill be a merry Christmas for somebody.”
”Give me thy hand,” cried Geoffrey, feeling universally hearty.
”No,” replied the freebooter; ”what meaning would there be in that? I would sever thy jugular vein in a moment if that would mend the broken fortunes of my chief. Farewell, however. Good luck attend thee.”
The eyes of both young men met, and without unkindness in them.
”But I am satisfied with my calling,” Hubert a.s.serted, repudiating some thought that he imagined was lurking in Geoffrey's look. ”Quite content! It's very dull to be respectable. Look! the dawn will discover us.”
”But this plan?” cried Geoffrey, hastening after him; ”I know nothing.”