Part 34 (1/2)

”No, sir,” replied the man.

”But a short distance from where we left the wood, I marked this tower on our left, and, certes, we have been walking round and round for half the night.”

”Then we must needs set out once more?”

”Nay. This will suffice for the present, and here we'll rest till daylight comes and the storm spends itself. The door is not barred, I hope.”

Walking slowly round the mill, the knight felt for the opening, till he stumbled over a low stone step. Cautiously ascending, he found at the fourth step a flat ledge, protected by a broken rail, and here was the door hanging by a solitary rusted hinge.

[Ill.u.s.tration: TREACHERY AFOOT]

Yielding to the pressure of his shoulder, the door flew open, and the knight and his companion carefully groped their way in, closing the door after them. Here, in absolute blackness, they found shelter, the storm howling wildly outside, yet scarcely to be heard within the ma.s.sive stone walls. They had no means of procuring a light, but by continuing their investigations they felt a pile of broken hurdles and the lower-most rungs of a ladder.

Raymond was about to ascend, when his servant laid a detaining hand upon his arm. ”Hist!” he exclaimed. ”Some one moves in the room above.”

”Nay, thou dreamest! . . . Ay, thou art right! Hide here, quickly. Art armed?”

”Nought but a knife.”

”'Twill suffice. Now, hold thyself in readiness, but act not till I give the word.”

Crouching behind the pile of hurdles, knight and servant waited in breathless silence. There was the sound of a heavy trap-door being raised, and a voice exclaimed in French: ”Is it thou, Jehan?”

Receiving no reply, the questioner slowly descended a few steps of the ladder, and drawing a horn lantern from underneath a cloak, swung it around him, peering about the room.

Then, perceiving no one, he muttered: ”Mon Dieu! It is but fancy, yet why doth he tarry?” And again concealing the light, he ascended to the upper story and dropped the trap-hatch with a resounding thud.

”There's fell treachery afoot,” whispered Raymond. ”Dost know who it is?”

”'Tis Rene de Caux, of the following of the Captal de Buche, our King's trusted favourite. Wait patiently, for ere long no little advancement will be gained.”

Silently the Englishmen waited, every fiercer blast of the storm causing them to imagine that the expected visitor had arrived. At last they heard the door pushed open, and a dark form made its way into the room with a confidence gained by long practice. A low whistle, like the cry of a night-bird, and the trapdoor was again removed.

”Ah, Jehan! 'Tis thou at last! Close the door ere I show a light.”

”A thousand pests take the weather. This storm hath all but been my undoing.”

The light of the lantern shone upon the face of the new arrival. He was a tall, slender man, with light hair and refined features, and on removing his sodden cloak a garment of slashed velvet was revealed, betokening that the wearer was a gentleman of quality. Armour he wore none, but a light sword hung from his belt, balanced by a large leather bag.

”And how fares Sir John de Vienne?”

”Strong in courage when last I saw him.”

”And that was----?”

”But yesternight.”

”And he agreed to allow you to poison the wells?”

”Nay, by Our Lady, he would not.”