IT was a bright, crisp winter's day when the little party set offfrom Bordeaux on their journey to Montaubon, where the missinghalf of their Company had last been heard of. Sir Nigel and Fordhad ridden on in advance, the knight upon his hackney, while hisgreat war-horse trotted beside his squire. Two hours laterAlleyne Edricson followed; for he had the tavern reckoning tosettle, and many other duties which fell to him as squire of thebody. With him came Aylward and Hordle John, armed as of old,but mounted for their journey upon a pair of clumsy Landeshorses, heavy-headed and shambling, but of great endurance, andcapable of jogging along all day, even when between the knees ofthe huge archer, who turned the scale at two hundred and seventypounds. They took with them the sumpter mules, which carried inpanniers the wardrobe and table furniture of Sir Nigel; for theknight, though neither fop nor epicure, was very dainty in smallmatters, and loved, however bare the board or hard the life, thathis napery should still be white and his spoon of silver.

There had been frost during the night, and the white hard roadrang loud under their horses' irons as they spurred through theeast gate of the town, along the same broad highway which theunknown French champion had traversed on the day of the jousts.The three rode abreast, Alleyne Edricson with his eyes cast downand his mind distrait, for his thoughts were busy with theconversation which he had had with Sir Nigel in the morning. Hadhe done well to say so much, or had he not done better to havesaid more? What would the knight have said had he confessed tohis love for the Lady Maude? Would he cast him off in disgrace,or might he chide him as having abused the shelter of his roof?It had been ready upon his tongue to tell him all when Sir Oliverhad broken in upon them. Perchance Sir Nigel, with his love ofall the dying usages of chivalry, might have contrived somestrange ordeal or feat of arms by which his love should be put tothe test. Alleyne smiled as he wondered what fantastic andwondrous deed would be exacted from him. Whatever it was, he wasready for it, whether it were to hold the lists in the court ofthe King of Tartary, to carry a cartel to the Sultan of Baghdad,or to serve a term against the wild heathen of Prussia. SirNigel had said that his birth was high enough for any lady, ifhis fortune could but be amended. Often had Alleyne curled hislip at the beggarly craving for land or for gold which blindedman to the higher and more lasting issues of life. Now itseemed as though it were only by this same land and gold that hemight hope to reach his heart's desire. But then, again, theSocman of Minstead was no friend to the Constable of TwynhamCastle. It might happen that, should he amass riches by somehappy fortune of war, this feud might hold the two familiesaloof. Even if Maude loved him, he knew her too well to thinkthat she would wed him without the blessing of her father. Darkand murky was it all, but hope mounts high in youth, and it everfluttered over all the turmoil of his thoughts like a white plumeamid the shock of horsemen.

If Alleyne Edricson had enough to ponder over as he rode throughthe bare plains of Guienne, his two companions were more busywith the present and less thoughtful of the future. Aylward rodefor half a mile with his chin upon his shoulder, looking back ata white kerchief which fluttered out of the gable window of ahigh house which peeped over the corner of the battlements. Whenat last a dip of the road hid it from his view, he cocked hissteel cap, shrugged his broad shoulders, and rode on withlaughter in his eyes, and his weatherbeaten face all ashine withpleasant memories. John also rode in silence, but his eyeswandered slowly from one side of the road to the other, and hestared and pondered and nodded his head like a traveller whomakes his notes and saves them up for the re-telling

"By the rood!" he broke out suddenly, slapping his thigh with hisgreat red hand, "I knew that there was something a-missing, but Icould not bring to my mind what it was."

"What was it then?" asked Alleyne, coming with a start out of hisreverie.

"Why, it is the hedgerows," roared John, with a shout oflaughter. "The country is all scraped as clear as a friar'spoll. But indeed I cannot think much of the folk in these parts.Why do they not get to work and dig up these long rows of blackand crooked stumps which I see on every hand? A franklin ofHampshire would think shame to have such litter upon his soil."

"Thou foolish old John!" quoth Aylward. "You should know better,since I have heard that the monks of Beaulieu could squeeze agood cup of wine from their own grapes. Know then that if theserows were dug up the wealth of the country would be gone, andmayhap there would be dry throats and gaping mouths in England,for in three months' time these black roots will blossom andsnoot and burgeon, and from them will come many a good ship-loadof Medoc and Gascony which will cross the narrow seas. But seethe church in the hollow, and the folk who cluster in thechurchyard! By my hilt! it is a burial, and there is a passingbell!" He pulled off his steel cap as he spoke and crossedhimself, with a muttered prayer for the repose of the dead.

"There too," remarked Alleyne, as they rode on again, "that whichseems to the eye to be dead is still full of the sap of life,even as the vines were. Thus God hath written Himself and Hislaws very broadly on all that is around us, if our poor dull eyesand duller souls could but read what He hath set before us."

"Ha! mon petit," cried the bowman, "you take me back to the dayswhen you were new fledged, as sweet a little chick as ever peckedhis way out of a monkish egg. I had feared that in gaining ourdebonair young man-at-arms we had lost our soft-spoken clerk. Intruth, I have noted much change in you since we came from TwynhamCastle."

"Surely it would be strange else, seeing that I have lived in aworld so new to me. Yet I trust that there are many things inwhich I have not changed. If I have turned to serve an earthlymaster, and to carry arms for an earthly king, it would be an illthing if I were to lose all thought of the great high King andMaster of all, whose humble and unworthy servant I was ere ever Ileft Beaulieu. You, John, are also from the cloisters, but Itrow that you do not feel that you have deserted the old servicein taking on the new."

"I am a slow-witted man," said John, "and, in sooth, when l tryto think about such matters it casts a gloom upon me. Yet I donot look upon myself as a worse man in an archer's jerkin than Iwas in a white cowl, if that be what you mean."

"You have but changed from one white company to the other," quothAylward. "But, by these ten finger-bones! it is a passingstrange thing to me to think that it was but in the last fall ofthe leaf that we walked from Lyndhurst together, he so gentle andmaidenly, and you, John, like a great red-limbed overgrown moon-calf; and now here you are as sprack a squire and as lusty anarcher as ever passed down the highway from Bordeaux, while I amstill the same old Samkin Aylward, with never a change, save thatI have a few more sins on my soul and a few less crowns in mypouch. But I have never yet heard, John, what the reason was whyyou should come out of Beaulieu."

"There were seven reasons," said John thoughtfully. "The firstof them was that they threw me out."

"Ma foi! camarade, to the devil with the other six! That isenough for me and for thee also. I can see that they are verywise and discreet folk at Beaulieu. Ah! mon ange, what have youin the pipkin?"

"It is milk, worthy sir," answered the peasant-maid, who stood bythe door of a cottage with a jug in her hand. "Would it pleaseyou, gentles, that I should bring you out three horns of it?"

"Nay, ma petite, but here is a two-sous piece for thy kindlytongue and for the sight of thy pretty face. Ma foi! but she hasa bonne mine. I have a mind to bide and speak with her."

"Nay, nay, Aylward," cried Alleyne. "Sir Nigel will await us,and he in haste."

"True, true, camarade! Adieu, ma cherie! mon coeur est toujoursa toi. Her mother is a well-grown woman also. See where shedigs by the wayside. Ma foi! the riper fruit is ever thesweeter. Bon jour, ma belle dame! God have you in his keeping!Said Sir Nigel where he would await us?"

"At Marmande or Aiguillon. He said that we could not pass him,seeing that there is but the one road."

"Aye, and it is a road that I know as I know the Midhurst parishbutts," quoth the bowman. "Thirty times have I journeyed it,forward and backward, and, by the twang of string! I am wont tocome back this way more laden than I went. I have carried allthat I had into France in a wallet, and it hath taken foursumpter-mules to carry it back again. God's benison on the manwho first turned his hand to the making of war! But there, downin the dingle, is the church of Cardillac, and you may see theinn where three poplars grow beyond the village. Let us on, for astoup of wine would hearten us upon our way."

The highway had lain through the swelling vineyard country, whichstretched away to the north and east in gentle curves, with manya peeping spire and feudal tower, and cluster of village houses,all clear cut and hard in the bright wintry air. To their rightstretched the blue Garonne, running swiftly seawards, with boatsand barges dotted over its broad bosom. On the other side lay astrip of vineyard, and beyond it the desolate and sandy region ofthe Landes, all tangled with faded gorse and heath and broom,stretching away in unbroken gloom to the blue hills which lay lowupon the furthest sky-line. Behind them might still be seen thebroad estuary of the Gironde, with the high towers of Saint Andreand Saint Remi shooting up from the plain. In front, amidradiating lines of poplars, lay the riverside townlet ofCardillac--gray walls, white houses, and a feather of blue smoke.

"This is the 'Mouton d'Or,' " said Aylward, as they pulled uptheir horses at a whitewashed straggling hostel. "What hothere!" he continued, beating upon the door with the hilt of hissword. "Tapster, ostler, varlet, hark hither, and a wannion onyour lazy limbs! Ha! Michel, as red in the nose as ever! Threejacks of the wine of the country, Michel--for the air bitesshrewdly. I pray you, Alleyne, to take note of this door, for Ihave a tale concerning it."

"Tell me, friend," said Alleyne to the portly red-faced inn-keeper, "has a knight and a squire passed this way within thehour?"

"Nay, sir, it would be two hours back. Was he a small man, weakin the eyes, with a want of hair, and speaks very quiet when heis most to be feared?"

"The same," the squire answered. "But I marvel how you shouldknow how he speaks when he is in wrath, for he is very gentle-minded with those who are beneath him."

"Praise to the saints! it was not I who angered him," said thefat Michel.

"Who, then?"

"It was young Sieur de Crespigny of Saintonge, who chanced to behere, and made game of the Englishman, seeing that he was but asmall man and hath a face which is full of peace. But indeedthis good knight was a very quiet and patient man, for he sawthat the Sieur de Crespigny was still young and spoke from anempty head, so he sat his horse and quaffed his wine, even as youare doing now, all heedless of the clacking tongue." And whatthen, Michel?"

"Well, messieurs, it chanced that the Sieur de Crespigny, havingsaid this and that, for the laughter of the varlets, cried out atlast about the glove that the knight wore in his coif, asking ifit was the custom in England for a man to wear a great archer'sglove in his cap. Pardieu! I have never seen a man get off hishorse as quick as did that stranger Englishman. Ere the wordswere past the other's lips he was beside him, his face nightouching, and his breath hot upon his cheeks. 'I think, youngsir,' quoth he softly, looking into the other's eyes, 'that nowthat I am nearer you will very clearly see that the glove is notan archer's glove.' 'Perchance not,' said the Sieur de Crespignywith a twitching lip. 'Nor is it large, but very small,' quoththe Englishman. 'Less large than I had thought,' said the other,looking down, for the knight's gaze was heavy upon his eyelids.'And in every way such a glove as might be worn by the fairestand sweetest lady in England,' quoth the Englishman. 'It may beso,' said the Sieur de Crespigny, turning his face from him. 'Iam myself weak in the eyes, and have often taken one thing foranother,' quoth the knight, as he sprang back into his saddle androde off, leaving the Sieur de Crespigny biting his nails beforethe door. Ha! by the five wounds, many men of war have drunk mywine, but never one was more to my fancy than this littleEnglishman."

"By my hilt! he is our master, Michel," quoth Aylward, "and suchmen as we do not serve under a laggart. But here are fourdeniers, Michel, and God be with you! En avant, camarades! forwe have a long road before us."

At a brisk trot the three friends left Cardillac and its wine-house behind them, riding without a halt past St. Macaire, and onby ferry over the river Dorpt. At the further side the roadwinds through La Reolle, Bazaille, and Marmande, with the sunlitriver still gleaming upon the right, and the bare poplarsbristling up upon either side. John and Alleyne rode silent oneither side, but every inn, farm-steading, or castle brought backto Aylward some remembrance of love, foray, or plunder, withwhich to beguile the way.

"There is the smoke from Bazas, on the further side of Garonne,"quoth he. "There were three sisters yonder, the daughters of afarrier, and, by these ten finger-bones! a man might ride for along June day and never set eyes upon such maidens. There wasMarie, tall and grave, and Blanche petite and gay, and the darkAgnes, with eyes that went through you like a waxed arrow. Ilingered there as long as four days, and was betrothed to themall; for it seemed shame to set one above her sisters, and mightmake ill blood in the family. Yet, for all my care, things werenot merry in the house, and I thought it well to come away.There, too, is the mill of Le Souris. Old Pierre Le Caron, whoowned it, was a right good comrade, and had ever a seat and acrust for a weary archer. He was a man who wrought hard at allthat he turned his hand to; but he heated himself in grindingbones to mix with his flour, and so through over-diligence hebrought a fever upon himself and died."

"Tell me, Aylward," said Alleyne, "what was amiss with the doorof yonder inn that you should ask me to observe it."

"Pardieu! yes, I had well-nigh forgot. What saw you on yonderdoor?"

"I saw a square hole, through which doubtless the host may peepwhen he is not too sure of those who knock."

"And saw you naught else?"

"I marked that beneath this hole there was a deep cut in thedoor, as though a great nail had been driven in."

"And naught else?"

"No."

"Had you looked more closely you might have seen that there was astain upon the wood. The first time that I ever heard my comradeBlack Simon laugh was in front of that door. I heard him onceagain when he slew a French squire with his teeth, he beingunarmed and the Frenchman having a dagger."

"And why did Simon laugh in front of the inn-door!" asked John.

"Simon is a hard and perilous man when he hath the bitter drop inhim; and, by my hilt! he was born for war, for there is littlesweetness or rest in him. This inn, the 'Mouton d'Or,' was keptin the old days by one Francois Gourval, who had a hard fist anda harder heart. It was said that many and many an archer comingfrom the wars had been served with wine with simples in it, untilhe slept, and had then been stripped of all by this Gourval.Then on the morrow, if he made complaint, this wicked Gourvalwould throw him out upon the road or beat him, for he was a verylusty man, and had many stout varlets in his service. Thischanced to come to Simon's ears when we were at Bordeauxtogether, and he would have it that we should ride to Cardillacwith a good hempen cord, and give this Gourval such a scourgingas he merited. Forth we rode then, but when we came to theMouton d'Or,' Gourval had had word of our coming and its purpose,so that the door was barred, nor was there any way into thehouse. 'Let us in, good Master Gourval!' cried Simon, and 'Letus in, good Master Gourval!' cried I, but no word could we getthrough the hole in the door, save that he would draw an arrowupon us unless we went on our way. 'Well, Master Gourval,' quothSimon at last, 'this is but a sorry welcome, seeing that we haveridden so far just to shake you by the hand.' 'Canst shake me bythe hand without coming in,' said Gourval. 'And how that?' askedSimon. 'By passing in your hand through the hole,' said he.'Nay, my hand is wounded,' quoth Simon, 'and of such a size thatI cannot pass it in.' 'That need not hinder,' said Gourval, whowas hot to be rid of us, 'pass in your left hand.' 'But I havesomething for thee, Gourval,' said Simon. 'What then?' he asked.'There was an English archer who slept here last week of the nameof Hugh of Nutbourne.' 'We have had many rogues here,' saidGourval. 'His conscience hath been heavy within him because heowes you a debt of fourteen deniers, having drunk wine for whichhe hath never paid. For the easing of his soul, he asked me topay the money to you as I passed.' Now this Gourval was verygreedy for money, so he thrust forth his hand for the fourteendeniers, but Simon had his dagger ready and he pinned his hand tothe door. 'I have paid the Englishman's debt, Gourval!' quothhe, and so rode away, laughing so that he could scarce sit hishorse, leaving mine host still nailed to his door. Such is thestory of the hole which you have marked, and of the smudge uponthe wood. I have heard that from that time English archers havebeen better treated in the auberge of Cardillac. But what havewe here by the wayside?"

"It appears to be a very holy man," said Alleyne.

"And, by the rood! he hath some strange wares," cried John."What are these bits of stone, and of wood, and rusted nails,which are set out in front of him?"

The man whom they had remarked sat with his back against acherry-tree, and his legs shooting out in front of him, like onewho is greatly at his ease. Across his thighs was a woodenboard, and scattered over it all manner of slips of wood andknobs of brick and stone, each laid separate from the other, as ahuckster places his wares. He was dressed in a long gray gown,and wore a broad hat of the same color, much weather-stained,with three scallop-shells dangling from the brim. As theyapproached, the travellers observed that he was advanced inyears, and that his eyes were upturned and yellow.

"Dear knights and gentlemen," he cried in a high crackling voice,"worthy Christian cavaliers, will ye ride past and leave an agedpilgrim to die of hunger? The sight hast been burned from mineeyes by the sands of the Holy Land, and I have had neither crustof bread nor cup of wine these two days past."

"By my hilt! father," said Aylward, looking keenly at him, "it isa marvel to me that thy girdle should have so goodly a span andclip thee so closely, if you have in sooth had so little to placewithin it."

"Kind stranger," answered the pilgrim, "you have unwittinglyspoken words which are very grievous to me to listen to. Yet Ishould be loth to blame you, for I doubt not that what you saidwas not meant to sadden me, nor to bring my sore affliction backto my mind. It ill becomes me to prate too much of what I haveendured for the faith, and yet, since you have observed it, Imust tell you that this thickness and roundness of the waist iscaused by a dropsy brought on by over-haste in journeying fromthe house of Pilate to the Mount of Olives."

"There, Aylward," said Alleyne, with a reddened cheek, "let thatcurb your blunt tongue. How could you bring a fresh pang to thisholy man, who hath endured so much and hath journeyed as far asChrist's own blessed tomb?"

"May the foul fiend strike me dumb!" cried the bowman in hotrepentance; but both the palmer and Alleyne threw up their handsto stop him.

"I forgive thee from my heart, dear brother," piped the blindman. "But, oh, these wild words of thine are worse to mine earsthan aught which you could say of me."

"Not another word shall I speak," said Aylward; "but here is afranc for thee and I crave thy blessing."

"And here is another," said Alleyne.

"And another," cried Hordle John.

But the blind palmer would have none of their alms. "Foolish,foolish pride!" he cried, beating upon his chest with his largebrown hand. "Foolish, foolish pride! How long then will it beere I can scourge it forth? Am I then never to conquer it? Oh,strong, strong are the ties of flesh, and hard it is to subduethe spirit! I come, friends, of a noble house, and I cannotbring myself to touch this money, even though it be to save mefrom the grave."

"Alas! father," said Alleyne, "how then can we be of help tothee?"

"I had sat down here to die," quoth the palmer; "but for manyyears I have carried in my wallet these precious things which yousee set forth now before me. It were sin, thought I, that mysecret should perish with me. I shall therefore sell thesethings to the first worthy passers-by, and from them I shall havemoney enough to take me to the shrine of Our Lady at Rocamadour,where I hope to lay these old bones."

"What are these treasures, then, father?" asked Hordle John. "Ican but see an old rusty nail, with bits of stone and slips ofwood."

"My friend," answered the palmer, "not all the money that is inthis country could pay a just price for these wares of mine. Thisnail," he continued, pulling off his hat and turning up hissightless orbs, "is one of those wherewith man's salvation wassecured. I had it, together with this piece of the true rood,from the five-and-twentieth descendant of Joseph of Arimathea,who still lives in Jerusalem alive and well, though latterly muchafflicted by boils. Aye, you may well cross yourselves, and Ibeg that you will not breathe upon it or touch it with yourfingers."

"And the wood and stone, holy father?" asked Alleyne, with batedbreath, as he stared awe-struck at his precious relics.

"This cantle of wood is from the true cross, this other from Noahhis ark, and the third is from the door-post of the temple of thewise King Solomon. This stone was thrown at the sainted Stephen,and the other two are from the Tower of Babel. Here, too, ispart of Aaron's rod, and a lock of hair from Elisha the prophet."

"But, father," quoth Alleyne, "the holy Elisha was bald, whichbrought down upon him the revilements of the wicked children."

"It is very true that he had not much hair," said the palmerquickly, "and it is this which makes this relic so exceedingprecious. Take now your choice of these, my worthy gentlemen,and pay such a price as your consciences will suffer you tooffer; for I am not a chapman nor a huckster, and I would neverpart with them, did I not know that I am very near to my reward."

"Aylward," said Alleyne excitedly, "This is such a chance as fewfolk have twice in one life. The nail I must have, and I willgive it to the abbey of Beaulieu, so that all the folk in Englandmay go thither to wonder and to pray."

"And I will have the stone from the temple," cried Hordle John."What would not my old mother give to have it hung over her bed?"

"And I will have Aaron's rod," quoth Aylward. "I have but fiveflorins in the world, and here are four of them."

"Here are three more," said John.

"And here are five more," added Alleyne. "Holy father, I handyou twelve florins, which is all that we can give, though we wellknow how poor a pay it is for the wondrous things which you sellus."

"Down, pride, down!" cried the pilgrim, still beating upon hischest. "Can I not bend myself then to take this sorry sum whichis offered me for that which has cost me the labors of a life.Give me the dross! Here are the precious relics, and, oh, I prayyou that you will handle them softly and with reverence, else hadI rather left my unworthy bones here by the wayside."

With doffed caps and eager hands, the comrades took their new andprecious possessions, and pressed onwards upon their journey,leaving the aged palmer still seated under the cherry-tree. Theyrode in silence, each with his treasure in his hand, glancing atit from time to time, and scarce able to believe that chance hadmade them sole owners of relics of such holiness and worth thatevery abbey and church in Christendom would have bid eagerly fortheir possession. So they journeyed, full of this good fortune,until opposite the town of Le Mas, where John's horse cast ashoe, and they were glad to find a wayside smith who might setthe matter to rights. To him Aylward narrated the good hap whichhad befallen them; but the smith, when his eyes lit upon therelics, leaned up against his anvil and laughed, with his hand tohis side, until the tears hopped down his sooty cheeks.

"Why, masters," quoth he, "this man is a coquillart, or seller offalse relics, and was here in the smithy not two hours ago. Thisnail that he hath sold you was taken from my nail-box, and as tothe wood and the stones, you will see a heap of both outside fromwhich he hath filled his scrip."

"Nay, nay," cried Alleyne, "this was a holy man who had journeyedto Jerusalem, and acquired a dropsy by running from the house ofPilate to the Mount of Olives,"

"I know not about that," said the smith; "but I know that a manwith a gray palmer's hat and gown was here no very long time ago,and that he sat on yonder stump and ate a cold pullet and drank aflask of wine. Then he begged from me one of my nails, andfilling his scrip with stones, he went upon his way. Look atthese nails, and see if they are not the same as that which hehas sold you."

"Now may God save us!" cried Alleyne, all aghast. "Is there noend then to the wickedness of humankind? He so humble, so aged,so loth to take our money--and yet a villain and a cheat. Whomcan we trust or believe in?"

"I will after him," said Aylward, flinging himself into thesaddle. "Come, Alleyne, we may catch him ere John's horse beshod."

Away they galloped together, and ere long they saw the old graypalmer walking slowly along in front of them. He turned,however, at the sound of their hoofs, and it was clear that hisblindness was a cheat like all the rest of him, for he ranswiftly through a field and so into a wood, where none couldfollow him. They hurled their relics after him, and so rode backto the blacksmith's the poorer both in pocket and in faith.