A Boys Ride | Page 2

crossed himself. "'Tis some witchcraft," he
muttered. "Here cometh the young lord, and all the time I know that the
young lord is safe within the walls."
The grooms also crossed themselves before they drew up the bridge.
But the boy, unconcerned, rode on across the outer court and passed
into the inner one followed by the wounded dog. Here the men-at-arms
were dismounting, horses were neighing, and grooms running about.
The boy, too, dismounted, and bent anxiously over his dog.
Presently a young voice demanded, "Whence comest thou?"
The boy looked up to see his counterpart, the son of the lord of the
castle, standing imperiously before him.
"From York," answered the stranger, briefly. "Hast thou a leech that
can care for my dog? See how he bleeds."
"Oh, ay," was the answer. "But how came he wounded? He hath been
deer-stealing, perchance, and the ranger hath discovered him."
"Nay," replied the strange lad, in tones the echo of his questioner's.
"Thou doest Fleetfoot wrong. We were but pursuing our way when
from yonder thicket to the north and adjoining the open, a flight of
arrows came. I had been sped myself but for my shirt of mail."
The leech had now advanced and was caring skilfully for the dog while
the strange lad looked on, now and then laying a caressing hand on the
hound's head.

Meanwhile the men-at-arms conferred together and exchanged wise
looks while a stout and clumsy Saxon serving-man of about forty shook
his head. "I did dream of an earthquake no longer ago than night before
last," he said, "which is a dream that doth ever warn the dreamer and all
concerned with him to be cautious and careful. Here cometh riding the
twin of our young lord: and the Evil One only knoweth how this
stranger hath the nose, the eyes, the mouth, the complexion, the gait,
the size, and the voice of our young lord, Josceline De Aldithely.
Thinkest thou not, William Lorimer, it were cautious and careful to put
him and his hound outside the walls, to say nothing of his horse?"
William Lorimer, the captain of the men-at-arms, smiled in derision. A
great belief in dreams and omens was abroad in the land: and nowhere
had it a more devoted adherent than in Humphrey, the Saxon
serving-man, and nowhere a greater scoffer than in William Lorimer.
"I see thou scoffest, William Lorimer," pursued Humphrey. "But were
he put out, then might those minions of the king shoot at him once
more, and spare to shoot at our young lord. I will away to our lady, and
see what she ordereth."
There had always been times in England when no man who stood in the
way of another was safe, but these were the times when women and
children were not safe. For perhaps the wickedest king who ever sat
upon the English throne occupied it now, and his name was John.
This king had tried to snatch the kingdom from his brother, Richard
Coeur de Lion, and had failed. When Richard was dead, and John was
made king in his stead, there was still another claimant to the
throne,--his nephew Arthur,--and him the king in 1204 had murdered,
so report said, with his own hand. This was the deed that lost him
Normandy and all his other French possessions, and shut him up to rule
in England alone. And the English soon had enough of him. He was
now in a conflict with the Pope, who had commanded him to receive
Stephen Langton as Archbishop of Canterbury. This John had refused
to do. Now, the kingdom, on account of the king's disobedience, was
under the papal interdict, and the king was threatened with
excommunication.

England had at this time many, many churches, and their bells, before
this unfortunate situation, had seemed to be ringing all day long. They
rang to call the people to the ordinary church services; they rang to call
them to work, and to bid them cease from work. They rang when a
baby was born, and when there was a death. And for many other things
they rang. Now, under the interdict, no bell rang. There were no usual
church services, and everywhere was fasting. A strange England it
seemed.
The king had never gotten on well with his barons, and they hated him.
Nevertheless they would have stood by him if he had been at all just to
them. And surely he needed them to stand by him, for all the world was
against him. The French were eager to fight him, and the Church was
arrayed against him. But all these things only made the king harder and
more unjust to the barons because just now they were the only ones in
his power, and his