Part 16 (1/2)
”It is many a day since I have wondered how ye bore with them.”
”Since ye press me, Richard, I will own that my lot is hard. I have been widowed these five years. Since Winge my husband died, the land and goods with which he left me--aye, and mine own goods which I brought him--I may not call mine own. The first they till and order as they will, and the yield thereof they put with the yield of their land.
As for the goods, they all lay hands upon them with never a 'by your leave' to me! Ulwin would have sold my mirror of steel last week, but I hid it.... Richard Scrob's son, there are two of thine oxen among the cattle at the Moor. At least, I am sure I saw them at Martin's Fair within thy pen.”
”Let them be. I have enemies enough at this time. To claim your goods!
To sell your mirror!”
”They grudge me this my new cloak,” Alftrude continued, drawing a fold of periwinkle blue from beneath her winter wrapping. ”True, it is not of my weaving; but mine own corn did I sell to buy the cloth. I believe they grudge me my mother's own jewels! Ulwin, and Alward, and Ednoth, and their mother, and the wives of the three. There would be no pleasure for any but Ulwin, if he could have his way: others must sc.r.a.pe and lack for him. A bad husbandman, too, is Ulwin. Men will give him but little for his crops and cattle. And that little leaves his poke that he may feast and game, and bet on sparring-c.o.c.ks. But I think the women are the worst to dwell with.”
”And the housewife--your husband's mother? Has she no kindness for thee, who wert wife to her son?”
”We were childless, Winge and I.”
”By holy Stephen! it is a weary life ye tell me of!”
”I am well wonted to such weariness. I am four and twenty. A great age, Richard.”
”Madame, I am thirty-two, and I think that the sweetest of my life is yet before me.”
”Here is Ludford. Now, G.o.d speed you, lord,” said she, holding out her hand to him. The next instant she withdrew it in confusion, exclaiming: ”I know not why I clepe you lord!”
”I know,” said Richard, and took her hand. ”Alftrude, I will see to it that thou become a very great lady.”
From the thicket bordering the pathway proceeded gasping, panting, maudlin complaints, and thickly-uttered curses; then came the sound of a feeble struggle as though a heavy body strove vainly to extricate itself from glutinous, liquescent soil. Richard the Scrob got down from his horse, handed the reins to Perot, who walked beside him, and strode in among the alders. The light of the sinking moon revealed a man lying face downwards, his legs submerged in a marshy pool, his hands clinging to a tuft of rushes. Having chosen a firm foothold, Richard seized the unfortunate by the scruff of the neck, and hauled him on to more or less solid ground. The bloated visage, streaming with mud, was just recognizable as that of Ulwin of the Moor.
”Oh, oh--ah--oh!” he blubbered. ”I am a dead man! Drowned dead--frozen to the inwards! One had bewitched the accursed nag that she might throw me!”
Richard heard a horse cropping the wet fern a little distance away. He captured the offending animal without difficulty, and gave it into the care of his servant. Then he approached Ulwin once more, and took him by the arm in order to help him to his feet.
”Dost thou dare?” cried the Englishman, striking aimlessly in the direction of his rescuer's chin. ”I have no gold upon me--nought upon me! Murder! Murder by our lord the King's highway! Fellow, I am a thane, and my wergild a thane's wergild--twelve hundred s.h.i.+llings worth!”
”No robber am I. Ulwin, I am Richard of Overton. Ye have known me this many a year--I am Richard the Scrob.”
”Scrob? Scrob? Eh, what is Scrob?” said the thane of the Moor. ”Oh, aye--I mind--thou art the Frenchman--Richard--neighbour Richard. Well, Richard, my old nag tossed me off--bewitched is she, the jade! And Alward and Ednoth and the others--to h.e.l.l with them for selfish churls!
they rode on and left me here--would not wait for me--rode on and left me lying here.... I called--I called! Wending home from Wigmore....
Cakes and ale had we--good eating and drinking at Wigmore, Richard....
Left me here to drown! What think ye of that?”
”Belike they missed thee not!” replied the other grimly. ”Here is your horse. Try to get upon her. I think your bones are whole.”
Ulwin remained sitting in the mud.
”Wa--la! wa--la!” He was weeping again now. ”Wa-la-la and woe the day!
Beggared am I and all undone! They set two worthy c.o.c.ks to fight....
Oh, a fair sight to see them at war! When all around would wager upon them, how might I not do likewise? One hundred s.h.i.+llings have I lost to the men of Wigmore! And, Richard, I am burdened with debt: one hundred and forty s.h.i.+llings in all do I owe among my neighbours. I must sell myself into thralldom--my wife--my hapless bairns! Let me flee the s.h.i.+re....”