The Outlaw of Torn | Page 5

story. All the bearing that the life of Jules de Vac
has upon the history of England hinges upon but two of his many attributes -- his
wonderful swordsmanship and his fearful hatred for his adopted country.

CHAPTER II
South of the armory of Westminster Palace lay the gardens, and here, on the third day
following the King's affront to De Vac, might have been a seen a black-haired woman
gowned in a violet cyclas, richly embroidered with gold about the yoke and at the bottom
of the loose-pointed sleeves, which reached almost to the similar bordering on the lower
hem of the garment. A richly wrought leathern girdle, studded with precious stones, and
held in place by a huge carved buckle of gold, clasped the garment about her waist so that
the upper portion fell outward over the girdle after the manner of a blouse. In the girdle
was a long dagger of beautiful workmanship. Dainty sandals encased her feet, while a
wimple of violet silk bordered in gold fringe, lay becomingly over her head and
shoulders.
By her side walked a handsome boy of about three, clad, like his companion, in gay
colors. His tiny surcoat of scarlet velvet was rich with embroidery, while beneath was a
close-fitting tunic of white silk. His doublet was of scarlet, while his long hose of white

were cross-gartered with scarlet from his tiny sandals to his knees. On the back of his
brown curls sat a flat-brimmed, round-crowned hat in which a single plume of white
waved and nodded bravely at each move of the proud little head.
The child's features were well molded, and his frank, bright eyes gave an expression of
boyish generosity to a face which otherwise would have been too arrogant and haughty
for such a mere baby. As he talked with his companion, little flashes of peremptory
authority and dignity, which sat strangely upon one so tiny, caused the young woman at
times to turn her head from him that he might not see the smiles which she could scarce
repress.
Presently the boy took a ball from his tunic, and, pointing at a little bush near them, said,
"Stand you there, Lady Maud, by yonder bush. I would play at toss."
The young woman did as she was bid, and when she had taken her place and turned to
face him the boy threw the ball to her. Thus they played beneath the windows of the
armory, the boy running blithely after the ball when he missed it, and laughing and
shouting in happy glee when he made a particularly good catch.
In one of the windows of the armory overlooking the garden stood a grim, gray, old man,
leaning upon his folded arms, his brows drawn together in a malignant scowl, the corners
of his mouth set in a stern, cold line.
He looked upon the garden and the playing child, and upon the lovely young woman
beneath him, but with eyes which did not see, for De Vac was working out a great
problem, the greatest of all his life.
For three days, the old man had brooded over his grievance, seeking for some means to
be revenged upon the King for the insult which Henry had put upon him. Many schemes
had presented themselves to his shrewd and cunning mind, but so far all had been
rejected as unworthy of the terrible satisfaction which his wounded pride demanded.
His fancies had, for the most part, revolved about the unsettled political conditions of
Henry's reign, for from these he felt he might wrest that opportunity which could be
turned to his own personal uses and to the harm, and possibly the undoing, of the King.
For years an inmate of the palace, and often a listener in the armory when the King
played at sword with his friends and favorites, De Vac had heard much which passed
between Henry III and his intimates that could well be turned to the King's harm by a
shrewd and resourceful enemy.
With all England, he knew the utter contempt in which Henry held the terms of the
Magna Charta which he so often violated along with his kingly oath to maintain it. But
what all England did not know, De Vac had gleaned from scraps of conversation dropped
in the armory: that Henry was even now negotiating with the leaders of foreign
mercenaries, and with Louis IX of France, for a sufficient force of knights and
men-at-arms to wage a relentless war upon his own barons that he might effectively put a
stop to all future interference by them with the royal prerogative of the Plantagenets to

misrule England.
If he could but learn the details of this plan, thought De Vac: the point of landing of