Beatrix of Clare | Page 2

be so discourteous. . . But
touching money reminds me that doubtless there is some such about
you--perhaps you will permit me to count it for you."
The Knight drew out a handful of coins. "Will you have them one by

one or all together?" he asked.
"All together; on the turf beside you, if you please. . . Thank you. . .
And do you know, Sir Aymer, I am vastly taken with the short gown of
velvet and sable--you brought it from France, I assume; the fashion
smacks of the Continent. I would like much to have your opinion as to
how it looks on me--we are rather of a size, I take it--though I shall
have to forego the pleasure of the opinion until another day. . . And
now that I can see your doublet, I am enamoured also of it--will you
lend it to me for a little while? Truly, my lord, I mind never to have
seen a handsomer, or one that caught my fancy more."
De Lacy looked again at the archers and their ready bows.
"St. Denis, fellow," he said, "leave me enough clothes to return to the
castle."
"God forbid," exclaimed the bandit, "that I should put a gallant
gentleman to any such embarrassment--but you must admit it were a
shame to have gown and doublet and yet no bonnet to match them. . ."
The Knight took it off and sent it spinning toward him.
"Note the feather," he said. "It is rarely long and heavy."
"I observed that yesterday," was the merry response.
"Is there anything else about me you care for?" De Lacy asked.
"Nothing--unless you could give me your rarely generous disposition.
Methinks I never met a more obliging gentleman."
The Knight arose. "Then, as I am already overdue at Windsor, I shall
give you good morning."
The archer raised his hand.
"I am sorry, my lord, but we must impose a trifle further on your good
nature and ask you to remain here a while," and he nodded to the man

beside him, who drew a thin rope from his pouch and came forward.
De Lacy started back--the leveled arrows met him on every side.
"You would not bind me!" he exclaimed.
The outlaw bowed again.
"It grieves me to the heart to do it, but we have pressing business
elsewhere and must provide against pursuit. Some one will, I hope,
chance upon you before night. . . Proceed, James--yonder beech will
answer."
The Knight laughed.
"I thank you for the hope," he said--and, throwing his body into the
blow, smashed the rogue with the rope straight on the chin-point, and
leaping over him closed with the leader.
It was done so quickly and in such positions that the others dared not
shoot lest they strike either James or their chief--but the struggle was
only for a moment; for they sprang in and dragged the Knight away,
and whipped the rope about his arms.
"Marry," exclaimed the leader, brushing the dirt from his clothes, "I am
sorry they did not let us have the wrestle out--though you are a quick
hitter, my lord, and powerful strong in the arms. I wager you showed
James more stars than he ever knew existed."
James, still dazed, was struggling to get up, and one of the others gave
him a hand.
"By St. Hubert," he growled, rubbing his head in pain and scowling at
De Lacy, "if there be more I have no wish to see them."
In the fight De Lacy's forearm had struck the point of his own dagger,
where it protruded below the brigand's belt, and the blood was
scarleting the white sleeve of his tunic.

The leader came over and bared the wound.
"It is a clean gash, my lord," he said, "but will need a bandage." He
drew a bow-cord around the arm above the elbow; then, "With your
permission," carefully cut away the sleeve and deftly bound up the hurt.
De Lacy watched him curiously.
"You are a charming outlaw," he observed; "a skillful surgeon--and I
fancy, if you so cared, you could claim a gentle birth."
The man stepped back and looked him in the eyes a moment.
"If I remove the bonds, will you give me your Knightly word to remain
here, speaking to no one until . . . the sun has passed the topmost
branch of yonder oak?"
The Knight bowed.
"That I will, and thank you for the courtesy."
At a nod the rope was loosed, and the next instant the outlaws had
vanished in the forest--but De Lacy's cloak lay at his feet, flung there
by the chief himself.
"St. Denis!" De Lacy marveled, "has Robin Hood returned to the
flesh?"
Then he looked at the sun, and resumed his