Some hours later, fifty men followed Norman of Torn on foot through theravine below the castle where John de Fulm, Earl of Buckingham, had hisheadquarters; while nearly a thousand more lurked in the woods before thegrim pile.

Under cover of the tangled shrubbery, they crawled unseen to the littledoor through which Joan de Tany had led him the night before. Followingthe corridors and vaults beneath the castle, they came to the stonestairway, and mounted to the passage which led to the false panel that hadgiven the two fugitives egress.

Slipping the spring lock, Norman of Torn entered the apartment followedclosely by his henchmen. On they went, through apartment after apartment,but no sign of the Earl or his servitors rewarded their search, and it wassoon apparent that the castle was deserted.

As they came forth into the courtyard, they descried an old man basking inthe sun, upon a bench. The sight of them nearly caused the old fellow todie of fright, for to see fifty armed men issue from the untenanted hallswas well reckoned to blanch even a braver cheek.

When Norman of Torn questioned him, he learned that De Fulm had ridden outearly in the day bound for Dover, where Prince Edward then was. The outlawknew it would be futile to pursue him, but yet, so fierce was his angeragainst this man, that he ordered his band to mount, and spurring to theirhead, he marched through Middlesex, and crossing the Thames above London,entered Surrey late the same afternoon.

As they were going into camp that night in Kent, midway between London andRochester, word came to Norman of Torn that the Earl of Buckingham, havingsent his escort on to Dover, had stopped to visit the wife of a royalistbaron, whose husband was with Prince Edward's forces.

The fellow who gave this information was a servant in my lady's householdwho held a grudge against his mistress for some wrong she had done him.When, therefore, he found that these grim men were searching for De Fulm,he saw a way to be revenged upon his mistress.

"How many swords be there at the castle ?" asked Norman of Torn.

"Scarce a dozen, barring the Earl of Buckingham," replied the knave; "and,furthermore, there be a way to enter, which I may show you, My Lord, sothat you may, unseen, reach the apartment where My Lady and the Earl besupping."

"Bring ten men, beside yourself, Shandy," commanded Norman of Torn. "Weshall pay a little visit upon our amorous friend, My Lord, the Earl ofBuckingham."

Half an hour's ride brought them within sight of the castle. Dismounting,and leaving their horses with one of the men, Norman of Torn advanced onfoot with Shandy and the eight others, close in the wake of the traitorousservant.

The fellow led them to the rear of the castle, where, among the brush, hehad hidden a rude ladder, which, when tilted, spanned the moat and restedits farther end upon a window ledge some ten feet above the ground.

"Keep the fellow here till last, Shandy," said the outlaw, "till all be in,an' if there be any signs of treachery, stick him through the gizzard --death thus be slower and more painful."

So saying, Norman of Torn crept boldly across the improvised bridge, anddisappeared within the window beyond. One by one the band of cut-throatspassed through the little window, until all stood within the castle besidetheir chief; Shandy coming last with the servant.

"Lead me quietly, knave, to the room where My Lord sups," said Norman ofTorn. "You, Shandy, place your men where they can prevent my beinginterrupted."

Following a moment or two after Shandy came another figure stealthilyacross the ladder and, as Norman of Torn and his followers left the littleroom, this figure pushed quietly through the window and followed the greatoutlaw down the unlighted corridor.

A moment later, My Lady of Leybourn looked up from her plate upon the grimfigure of an armored knight standing in the doorway of the great dininghall.

"My Lord Earl !" she cried. "Look ! Behind you."

And as the Earl of Buckingham glanced behind him , he overturned the benchupon which he sat in his effort to gain his feet; for My Lord Earl ofBuckingham had a guilty conscience.

The grim figure raised a restraining hand, as the Earl drew his sword.

"A moment, My Lord," said a low voice in perfect French.

"Who are you ?" cried the lady.

"I be an old friend of My Lord, here; but let me tell you a little story.

"In a grim old castle in Essex, only last night, a great lord of Englandheld by force the beautiful daughter of a noble house and, when she spurnedhis advances, he struck her with his clenched fist upon her fair face, andwith his brute hands choked her. And in that castle also was a despisedand hunted outlaw, with a price upon his head, for whose neck the hempennoose has been yawning these many years. And it was this vile person whocame in time to save the young woman from the noble flower of knighthoodthat would have ruined her young life.

"The outlaw wished to kill the knight, but many men-at-arms came to thenoble's rescue, and so the outlaw was forced to fly with the girl lest hebe overcome by numbers, and the girl thus fall again into the hands of hertormentor.

"But this crude outlaw was not satisfied with merely rescuing the girl, hemust needs mete out justice to her noble abductor and collect in full thetoll of blood which alone can atone for the insult and violence done her.

"My Lady, the young girl was Joan de Tany; the noble was My Lord the Earlof Buckingham; and the outlaw stands before you to fulfill the duty he hassworn to do. En garde, My Lord !"

The encounter was short, for Norman of Torn had come to kill, and he hadbeen looking through a haze of blood for hours -- in fact every time he hadthought of those brutal fingers upon the fair throat of Joan de Tany and ofthe cruel blow that had fallen upon her face.

He showed no mercy, but backed the Earl relentlessly into a corner of theroom, and when he had him there where he could escape in no direction, hedrove his blade so deep through his putrid heart that the point burieditself an inch in the oak panel beyond.

Claudia Leybourn sat frozen with horror at the sight she was witnessing,and, as Norman of Torn wrenched his blade from the dead body before him andwiped it on the rushes of the floor, she gazed in awful fascination whilehe drew his dagger and made a mark upon the forehead of the dead nobleman.

"Outlaw or Devil," said a stern voice behind them, "Roger Leybourn owes youhis friendship for saving the honor of his home."

Both turned to discover a mail-clad figure standing in the doorway whereNorman of Torn had first appeared.

"Roger !" shrieked Claudia Leybourn, and swooned.

"Who be you ?" continued the master of Leybourn addressing the outlaw.

For answer Norman of Torn pointed to the forehead of the dead Earl ofBuckingham, and there Roger Leybourn saw, in letters of blood, NT.

The Baron advanced with outstretched hand.

"I owe you much. You have saved my poor, silly wife from this beast, andJoan de Tany is my cousin, so I am doubly beholden to you, Norman of Torn."

The outlaw pretended that he did not see the hand.

"You owe me nothing, Sir Roger, that may not be paid by a good supper. Ihave eaten but once in forty-eight hours."

The outlaw now called to Shandy and his men, telling them to remain onwatch, but to interfere with no one within the castle.

He then sat at the table with Roger Leybourn and his lady, who hadrecovered from her swoon, and behind them on the rushes of the floor laythe body of De Fulm in a little pool of blood.

Leybourn told them that he had heard that De Fulm was at his home, and hadhastened back; having been in hiding about the castle for half an hourbefore the arrival of Norman of Torn, awaiting an opportunity to enterunobserved by the servants. It was he who had followed across the ladderafter Shandy.

The outlaw spent the night at the castle of Roger Leybourn; for the firsttime within his memory a welcomed guest under his true name at the house ofa gentleman.

The following morning, he bade his host goodbye, and returning to his campstarted on his homeward march toward Torn.

Near midday, as they were approaching the Thames near the environs ofLondon, they saw a great concourse of people hooting and jeering at a smallparty of gentlemen and gentlewomen.

Some of the crowd were armed, and from very force of numbers were waxingbrave to lay violent hands upon the party. Mud and rocks and rottenvegetables were being hurled at the little cavalcade, many of them barelymissing the women of the party.

Norman of Torn waited to ask no questions, but spurring into the thick ofit laid right and left of him with the flat of his sword, and his men,catching the contagion of it, swarmed after him until the whole pack ofattacking ruffians were driven into the Thames.

And then, without a backward glance at the party he had rescued, hecontinued on his march toward the north.

The little party sat upon their horses looking in wonder after theretreating figures of their deliverers. Then one of the ladies turned to aknight at her side with a word of command and an imperious gesture towardthe fast disappearing company. He, thus addressed, put spurs to his horse,and rode at a rapid gallop after the outlaw's troop. In a few moments hehad overtaken them and reined up beside Norman of Torn.

"Hold, Sir Knight," cried the gentleman, "the Queen would thank you inperson for your brave defence of her."

Ever keen to see the humor of a situation, Norman of Torn wheeled his horseand rode back with the Queen's messenger.

As he faced Her Majesty, the Outlaw of Torn bent low over his pommel.

"You be a strange knight that thinks so lightly on saving a queen's lifethat you ride on without turning your head, as though you had but driven apack of curs from annoying a stray cat," said the Queen.

"I drew in the service of a woman, Your Majesty, not in the service of aqueen."

"What now ! Wouldst even belittle the act which we all witnessed ? TheKing, my husband, shall reward thee, Sir Knight, if you but tell me yourname."

"If I told my name, methinks the King would be more apt to hang me,"laughed the outlaw. "I be Norman of Torn."

The entire party looked with startled astonishment upon him, for none ofthem had ever seen this bold raider whom all the nobility and gentry ofEngland feared and hated.

"For lesser acts than that which thou hast just performed, the King haspardoned men before," replied Her Majesty. "But raise your visor, I wouldlook upon the face of so notorious a criminal who can yet be a gentlemanand a loyal protector of his queen."

"They who have looked upon my face, other than my friends," replied Normanof Torn quietly, "have never lived to tell what they saw beneath thisvisor, and as for you, Madame, I have learned within the year to fear itmight mean unhappiness to you to see the visor of the Devil of Torn liftedfrom his face." Without another word he wheeled and galloped back to hislittle army.

"The puppy, the insolent puppy," cried Eleanor of England, in a rage.

And so the Outlaw of Torn and his mother met and parted after a period oftwenty years.

Two days later, Norman of Torn directed Red Shandy to lead the forces ofTorn from their Essex camp back to Derby. The numerous raiding partieswhich had been constantly upon the road during the days they had spent inthis rich district had loaded the extra sumpter beasts with rich andvaluable booty and the men, for the time satiated with fighting and loot,turned their faces toward Torn with evident satisfaction.

The outlaw was speaking to his captains in council; at his side the old manof Torn.

"Ride by easy stages, Shandy, and I will overtake you by tomorrow morning.I but ride for a moment to the castle of De Tany on an errand, and, as Ishall stop there but a few moments, I shall surely join you tomorrow."

"Do not forget, My Lord," said Edwild the Serf, a great yellow-haired Saxongiant, "that there be a party of the King's troops camped close by the roadwhich branches to Tany."

"I shall give them plenty of room," replied Norman of Torn. "My neckitcheth not to be stretched," and he laughed and mounted.

Five minutes after he had cantered down the road from camp, Spizo theSpaniard, sneaking his horse unseen into the surrounding forest, mountedand spurred rapidly after him. The camp, in the throes of packingrefractory, half broken sumpter animals, and saddling their own wildmounts, did not notice his departure. Only the little grim, gray, old manknew that he had gone, or why, or whither.

That afternoon, as Roger de Conde was admitted to the castle of Richard deTany and escorted to a little room where he awaited the coming of the LadyJoan, a swarthy messenger handed a letter to the captain of the King'ssoldiers camped a few miles south of Tany.

The officer tore open the seal as the messenger turned and spurred back inthe direction from which he had come.

And this was what he read:

Norman of Torn is now at the castle of Tany, without escort.

Instantly the call "to arms" and "mount" sounded through the camp and, infive minutes, a hundred mercenaries galloped rapidly toward the castle ofRichard de Tany, in the visions of their captain a great reward and honorand preferment for the capture of the mighty outlaw who was now almostwithin his clutches.

Three roads meet at Tany; one from the south along which the King'ssoldiers were now riding; one from the west which had guided Norman of Tornfrom his camp to the castle; and a third which ran northwest throughCambridge and Huntingdon toward Derby.

All unconscious of the rapidly approaching foes, Norman of Torn waitedcomposedly in the anteroom for Joan de Tany.

Presently she entered, clothed in the clinging house garment of the period;a beautiful vision, made more beautiful by the suppressed excitement whichcaused the blood to surge beneath the velvet of her cheek, and her breaststo rise and fall above her fast beating heart.

She let him take her fingers in his and raise them to his lips, and thenthey stood looking into each other's eyes in silence for a long moment.

"I do not know how to tell you what I have come to tell," he said sadly."I have not meant to deceive you to your harm, but the temptation to bewith you and those whom you typify must be my excuse. I -- " He paused.It was easy to tell her that he was the Outlaw of Torn, but if she lovedhim, as he feared, how was he to tell her that he loved only Bertrade deMontfort ?

"You need tell me nothing," interrupted Joan de Tany. "I have guessed whatyou would tell me, Norman of Torn. 'The spell of moonlight and adventureis no longer upon us' -- those are your own words, and still I am glad tocall you friend."

The little emphasis she put upon the last word bespoke the finality of herdecision that the Outlaw of Torn could be no more than friend to her.

"It is best," he replied, relieved that, as he thought, she felt no lovefor him now that she knew him for what he really was. "Nothing good couldcome to such as you, Joan, if the Devil of Torn could claim more of youthan friendship; and so I think that for your peace of mind and for my own,we will let it be as though you had never known me. I thank you that youhave not been angry with me. Remember me only to think that in the hillsof Derby, a sword is at your service, without reward and without price.Should you ever need it, Joan, tell me that you will send for me -- wiltpromise me that, Joan ?"

"I promise, Norman of Torn."

"Farewell," he said, and as he again kissed her hand he bent his knee tothe ground in reverence. Then he rose to go, pressing a little packet intoher palm. Their eyes met, and the man saw, in that brief instant, deep inthe azure depths of the girl's that which tumbled the structure of hisnew-found complacency about his ears.

As he rode out into the bright sunlight upon the road which led northwesttoward Derby, Norman of Torn bowed his head in sorrow, for he realized twothings. One was that the girl he had left still loved him, and that someday, mayhap tomorrow, she would suffer because she had sent him away; andthe other was that he did not love her, that his heart was locked in thefair breast of Bertrade de Montfort.

He felt himself a beast that he had allowed his loneliness and the achingsorrow of his starved, empty heart to lead him into this girl's life. Thathe had been new to women and newer still to love did not permit him toexcuse himself, and a hundred times he cursed his folly and stupidity, andwhat he thought was fickleness.

But the unhappy affair had taught him one thing for certain: to knowwithout question what love was, and that the memory of Bertrade deMontfort's lips would always be more to him than all the allurementspossessed by the balance of the women of the world, no matter how charming,or how beautiful.

Another thing, a painful thing he had learned from it, too, that theattitude of Joan de Tany, daughter of an old and noble house, was but theattitude which the Outlaw of Torn must expect from any good woman of herclass; what he must expect from Bertrade de Montfort when she learned thatRoger de Conde was Norman of Torn.

The outlaw had scarce passed out of sight upon the road to Derby ere thegirl, who still stood in an embrasure of the south tower, gazing withstrangely drawn, sad face up the road which had swallowed him, saw a bodyof soldiers galloping rapidly toward Tany from the south.

The King's banner waved above their heads, and intuitively, Joan de Tanyknew for whom they sought at her father's castle. Quickly she hastened tothe outer barbican that it might be she who answered their hail rather thanone of the men-at-arms on watch there.

She had scarcely reached the ramparts of the outer gate ere the King's mendrew rein before the castle.

In reply to their hail, Joan de Tany asked their mission.

"We seek the outlaw, Norman of Torn, who hides now within this castle,"replied the officer.

"There be no outlaw here," replied the girl, "but, if you wish, you mayenter with half a dozen men and search the castle."

This the officer did and, when he had assured himself that Norman of Tornwas not within, an hour had passed, and Joan de Tany felt certain that theOutlaw of Torn was too far ahead to be caught by the King's men; so shesaid:

"There was one here just before you came who called himself though byanother name than Norman of Torn. Possibly it is he ye seek."

"Which way rode he ?" cried the officer.

"Straight toward the west by the middle road," lied Joan de Tany. And, asthe officer hurried from the castle and, with his men at his back, gallopedfuriously away toward the west, the girl sank down upon a bench, pressingher little hands to her throbbing temples.

Then she opened the packet which Norman of Torn had handed her, and withinfound two others. In one of these was a beautiful jeweled locket, and onthe outside were the initials JT, and on the inside the initials NT; in theother was a golden hair ornament set with precious stones, and about it waswound a strand of her own silken tresses.

She looked long at the little trinkets and then, pressing them against herlips, she threw herself face down upon an oaken bench, her lithe young formracked with sobs.

She was indeed but a little girl chained by the inexorable bonds of casteto a false ideal. Birth and station spelled honor to her, and honor, tothe daughter of an English noble, was a mightier force even than love.

That Norman of Torn was an outlaw she might have forgiven, but that he was,according to report, a low fellow of no birth placed an impassable barrierbetween them.

For hours the girl lay sobbing upon the bench, whilst within her raged themighty battle of the heart against the head.

Thus her mother found her, and kneeling beside her, and with her arms aboutthe girl's neck, tried to soothe her and to learn the cause of her sorrow.Finally it came, poured from the flood gates of a sorrowing heart; thatwave of bitter misery and hopelessness which not even a mother's love couldcheck.

"Joan, my dear daughter," cried Lady de Tany, "I sorrow with thee that thylove has been cast upon so bleak and impossible a shore. But it be betterthat thou hast learnt the truth ere it were too late; for, take my wordupon it, Joan, the bitter humiliation such an alliance must needs havebrought upon thee and thy father's house would soon have cooled thy love;nor could his have survived the sneers and affronts even the menials wouldhave put upon him."

"Oh, mother, but I love him so," moaned the girl. "I did not know how muchuntil he had gone, and the King's officer had come to search for him, andthen the thought that all the power of a great throne and the mightiesthouses of an entire kingdom were turned in hatred against him raised thehot blood of anger within me and the knowledge of my love surged throughall my being. Mother, thou canst not know the honor, and the bravery, andthe chivalry of the man as I do. Not since Arthur of Silures kept hisround table hath ridden forth upon English soil so true a knight as Normanman of Torn.

"Couldst thou but have seen him fight, my mother, and witnessed the honorof his treatment of thy daughter, and heard the tone of dignified respectin which he spoke of women thou wouldst have loved him, too, and felt thatoutlaw though he be, he is still more a gentleman than nine-tenths thenobles of England."

"But his birth, my daughter !" argued the Lady de Tany. "Some even saythat the gall marks of his brass collar still showeth upon his neck, andothers that he knoweth not himself the name of his own father, nor had heany mother."

Ah, but this was the mighty argument ! Naught could the girl say tojustify so heinous a crime as low birth. What a man did in those roughcruel days might be forgotten and forgiven but the sins of his mother orhis grandfather in not being of noble blood, no matter howsoever wickedlyattained, he might never overcome or live down.

Torn by conflicting emotions, the poor girl dragged herself to her ownapartment and there upon a restless, sleepless couch, beset by wild,impossible hopes, and vain, torturing regrets, she fought out the long,bitter night; until toward morning she solved the problem of her misery inthe only way that seemed possible to her poor, tired, bleeding, littleheart. When the rising sun shone through the narrow window, it found Joande Tany at peace with all about her; the carved golden hilt of the toy thathad hung at her girdle protruded from her breast, and a thin line ofcrimson ran across the snowy skin to a little pool upon the sheet beneathher.

And so the cruel hand of a mighty revenge had reached out to crush anotherinnocent victim.