In the Days of Chivalry | Page 5

scarce
named the hope even to each other. But today the brooding silence had
been broken. The twins had taken counsel one with the other; and now
burning thoughts of this other fair inheritance were in the minds of both.
What golden possibilities did not open out before them? How small a
matter it seemed to cross the ocean and claim as their own that
unknown Basildene! Both were certain that their mother had held it in
her own right. Sure, if there were right or justice in the kingdom of the
Roy Outremer, they would but have to show who and what they were,
to become in very fact what their mother had loved to call them -- the
twin brothers of Basildene.
How their young hearts swelled with delighted expectation at the
thought of leaving behind the narrow life of the mill, and going forth
into the wide world to seek fame and fortune there! And England was
no such foreign land to them, albeit they had never been above ten
leagues from the mill where they had been born and brought up. Was

not their mother an Englishwoman? Had she not taught them the
language of her country, and begged them never to forget it? And could
they not speak it now as well as they spoke the language of Gascony --
better than they spoke the French of the great realm to which Gascony
in a fashion belonged?
The thought of travel always brings with it a certain exhilaration,
especially to the young and ardent, and thoughts of such a journey on
such a quest could not but be tinged with all the rainbow hues of hope.
"We will go; we will go right soon!" cried Gaston. "Would that we
could go tomorrow! Why have we lingered here so long, when we
might have been up and doing years ago?"
"Nay, Brother, we were but children years ago. We are not yet sixteen.
Yet methinks our manhood comes the faster to us for that noble blood
runs in our veins. But we will speak to Father Anselm. He has always
been our kindest friend. He will best counsel us whether to go forth, or
whether to tarry yet longer at home --"
"I will tarry no longer; I pant to burst my bonds," cried the impetuous
Gaston; and Raymond was in no whit less eager, albeit he had
something more of his mother's prudence and self-restraint.
"Methinks the holy Father will bid us go forth," he said thoughtfully.
"He has oft spoken to us of England and the Roy Outremer, and has
ever bidden us speak our mother's tongue, and not forget it here in these
parts where no man else speaks it. I trow he has foreseen the day when
we should go thither to claim our birthright. Our mother told him many
things that we were too young to hear. Perchance he could tell us more
of Basildene than she ever did, if we go to him and question him
thereupon."
Gaston nodded his head several times.
"Thou speakest sooth, Brother," said he. "We will go to him forthwith.
We will take counsel with him, albeit --"

Gaston did not finish his sentence, for two reasons. One was that his
brother knew so well what words were on his lips that speech was
well-nigh needless; the other, that he was at that moment rudely
interrupted. And although the brothers had no such thought at the time,
it is probable that this interruption and its consequences had a very
distinct bearing upon their after lives, and certainly it produced a
marked effect upon the counsel they subsequently received from their
spiritual father, who, but for that episode, might strongly have
dissuaded the youths from going forth so young into the world.
The interruption came in the form of an angry hail from a loud and
gruff voice, full of impatience and resentment.
"Out of my path, ye base-born peasants!" shouted a horseman who had
just rounded the sharp angle taken by the narrow bridle path, and was
brought almost to a standstill by the tall figures of the two stalwart
youths, which took up the whole of the open way between the trees and
their thick undergrowth. "Stand aside, ye idle loons! Know ye not how
to make way for your betters? Then, in sooth, I will teach you a
lesson;" and a thick hide lash came whirling through the air and almost
lighted upon the shoulders of Gaston, who chanced to be the nearer.
But such an insult as that was not to be borne. Even a Gascon peasant
might well have sprung upon a solitary adversary of noble blood had he
ventured to assault him thus, without support from his train of
followers. As for