Part 15 (2/2)

”Why, 'tis my gallant preserver! And what a difference a clean face doth make ye are but a boy, and a handsome one at that!”

A deep flush overspread the youth's face. Redward, knowing nothing of the circ.u.mstances of her rescue, could but express his astonishment, and, leaving the pair engaged in eager talk, he ascended to the roof, where lay the bodies of Richard Wyatt and the other soldiers, each grim and stern in death.

From Will Lightfoot he learned most of the particulars of the defence, including his son's intrepid act of rescue.

”Ay! Buckland,” said Will, ”'tis not every archer who hath the good fortune to rescue a n.o.ble lady such as the Lady Audrey Scarsdale!”

”Scarsdale?” repeated Redward.

”Ay Scarsdale--daughter of Sir Reginald Scarsdale.”

The master-bowman staggered as if struck by an invisible blow; then, recovering himself by an effort, asked Lightfoot if there were any tidings of Sir John Hacket.

Even Will Lightfoot could not fail to notice the change in Redward's appearance; but, putting it down to the fearful strain of the fight, suggested adjourning to partake of refreshment.

The task of laying to rest the bodies of their comrades was next proceeded with. Then Raymond, with two of his fellow-archers, entered the ill-fated house of the Lady Scarsdale, and removed the bodies of the three Genoese.

Placing the corpse of the Lady Hilda reverently on a bed, they locked up the house and gave the keys into the custody of the Sheriff, who, knowing the Scarsdale family, took the necessary steps to ensure a fitting burial of the knight's wife, while Lady Audrey was taken care of by some relatives who resided in another part of Hamps.h.i.+re.

Early the following morning Sir John Hacket, having a.s.sured himself that the enemy had made for the Channel and were not likely to return to raid some other coast town, rode into Southampton from Portsmouth, attended by his squires and a troop of lances and mounted archers.

Proudly, yet sadly, the stern old knight gazed upon the sorry remnant of the detachment he had left at Southampton but a week before.

”By St. George!” he exclaimed, ”ye are a credit to me, and the one bright jewel in the sable field of incompetence and neglect! The King shall hear of your deeds! Ye see,” he added aside to his squires, ”what that ranter, Walter de Brakkeleye, and his co-bailiff, de la Barre, have done. Had they given more thought to the safe keeping of the town, instead of bickering, as Brakkeleye did with me respecting the jurisdiction of his bailiwick, not a house in Southampton would have been touched by foreign foemen, not one of the townsfolk harmed.

Should the King think fit to hang them on the battlements 'twould be but their deserts!”

”And now,” he continued, addressing the archers, ”I will take care that bravery hath its reward. Another penny a day shall be added to your pay, and, as for Raymond Buckland, who, I am told, undertook the defence after my trusted Wyatt's death, from this time forth he shall be one of my squires! Let him but acquit himself as he hath done since he hath been in my company, and he will be on the road to win a pair of gilded spurs!”

[1] Not, of course, the well-known coast town in Kent, but the ancient villae of that name on the New Forest side of Southampton Water.

CHAPTER X

FATHER AND SON SET OUT FOR HENNEBON

NEARLY four years have elapsed since the events recorded in the last chapter--years full of national interest. The naval battle of Sluy's had been fought and won, and for the time the English fleet ruled the Channel, so that scarce a French or Spanish vessel dared to show itself betwixt Ushant and Cape Grisnez.

After the siege of Tournay, a treaty had been concluded between King Edward III. and Philip of France, but the former was ever on the alert to seize a favourable opportunity of renewing hostilities, and late in 1341 an incident occurred that gave the King the excuse to prosecute the war once more--a step that led to the glorious victory at Crecy and the overrunning of nearly the whole of France by the victorious arms of England.

The Duchy of Brittany was disputed between John of Montfort and Charles of Blois, and, while the latter was pressing his claims at the French Court, Montfort, by force or intrigue, had acquired the fortresses of Rennes, Nantes, Brest, and Hennebon; and in order to obtain a powerful supporter he had journeyed to England and concluded an offensive and defensive alliance with King Edward, at the same time offering to do him homage for the Duchy of Brittany.

Keeping this treaty a deep secret, Montfort did not hesitate to return to Paris to defend his case, but realising that the French King did not favour him, and fearing violence at his hands, the Earl retired to Brittany and declared war against the Count of Blois.

Philip sent his son, the Duke of Normandy, with a powerful force to aid Charles of Blois, and Montfort, after sending urgent requests for a.s.sistance to the King of England, shut himself up in Nantes, which was immediately besieged by the French.

By the treachery of the inhabitants Nantes fell, and Montfort, taken prisoner, was hurried to Paris, where he was loaded with chains and thrown into a loathsome dungeon in the Louvre.

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