CHAPTER XVI. HOW THE COCKEREL WAS PETTED.

Ralph Lisle had now reached the happiest hour of his life, and, in common with all humanity, he discovered that no happiness existed without alloy.

As he rode round the lists, somewhat embarrassed at the shouts of applause with which he was greeted, the openly expressed opinions of the more matronly part of the fair sex, and the less public, but scarcely veiled admiration of the younger members of that all-powerful half of humanity, Bowerman, who rode next to him, kept saying, in a tone of intense scorn and hatred,--

"Certes, Lisle, you are an impudent braggart, an you take all this balderdash to yourself. You know full well you'd never have gotten off as you did had you not been shamefully favoured."

Ralph felt very angry. He was deeply mortified, for he could not help knowing that there was great truth in the assertion, the power and address of the unknown knight having been clearly proved in his joust with Master Meaux.

"You can't say it was by favour I unhorsed the Sire de la Roche Guemené."

"Ay, but I can, and do. 'Twas that minx of a cousin of yours who brought that about."

"Bowerman," said Ralph, his face flushing up, and his mouth working, "if you dare to call my cousin a minx, I'll beat you to a jelly."

"Marry, will you? Forsooth, this braggart is growing apace! I shall call whom I like what name I like; and if you think you are going to stop me, you had better try. So there, master upstart!" and Bowerman snapped his fingers in Ralph's face in utter contempt and malignant defiance.

As they were exchanging these hasty words, they were passing, on their way out of the lists, the little girl and her rough attendant. This latter eyed Bowerman significantly, and seeing that he did not notice him, for both Ralph and Bowerman were too heated with their words to take notice of anyone in the crowd, the man nudged the leg of the latter as he passed, and so drew his attention to him.

As soon as Bowerman saw who it was, he changed colour.

"Hullo, my Trojan, what do you want?" he said, assuming a careless air.

"Take this, 'twill tell its own tale," said the man, handing Bowerman a dirty scrap of paper.

Meanwhile Ralph had noticed the little girl, and seeing how pleased she seemed, he reined up his horse and spoke to her.

"Well, little maid, and where have you left your old father?"

An amused expression passed over the child's face, and her eyes shone with mischief, as she replied,--

"Ah, poor old man! He's so infirm, think you, as to be scarce able to walk? Well, 'twas very kind of you to lend us your pony, and you will never be sorry for it."

"Where do you live?" asked Ralph, surprised at her voice, and trying to remember where he had heard it.

"Why, you know you saw me at Appuldurcombe Priory."

"Marry, so I did, but I was busy with my Lord Captain then."

"Ay, and with some one else, too. No marvel you had no eyes for me."

This was a remark Ralph did not appreciate.

"And what are you doing there?"

"I'm being brought up by the nuns. But, do you know, Sister Agnes--'twas she who brought out the hippocras--has been ill ever since you came? She did nothing but sigh and weep, and weep and sigh, from the time she got in till now. The only thing that comforts her is when I am with her, and I ought never to have left her to-day, only father sent orders for me to come here."

"Why, your poor old father sending orders to the Prioress of Appuldurcombe! that is a likely tale," said Ralph, smiling incredulously.

"And who do you think my father is?"

"Why, that poor old beggar whom I put on my pony, sure enough."

The girl broke out into a merry laugh.

"Like enough, like enough," she said; and then went on in a different tone,--"So you found the Hermit of St Catherine's, did you? 'Twas a rare foggy night, wasn't it?"

"Why, what do you know about that?" cried Ralph, in astonishment.

But again the only answer was a merry, mischievous laugh, and before Ralph, who did not like being mystified, could ask her any more questions, the rough man who was taking care of her, having finished his conversation with Bowerman, came up, and led her away, giving Ralph a peculiar look as he passed.

The crowd had now become a disorganised mob. The lists were invaded, and children were picking up the broken splinters of the gaily-painted lances, or gazing in awe at the fine ladies who were being escorted from the pavilion. The great centre of attraction was the tent of the knights-challengers. Every one hoped to obtain a glimpse of the mysterious knight as he came out, but in this they were disappointed; no one came out except those who were well known, and at last, after waiting in hopeful curiosity for some time, the people gave it up, and went off in search of other amusements.

"Certes, Master Ralph," said Dicky Cheke, who met that successful youth as he was dismounting in the courtyard, amid the plaudits of the garrison and the congratulations of the visitors, who were standing about waiting for the evening festivities, which would shortly begin, preluded by a state banquet in the Captain's hall,--"certes, Master Ralph, you are in luck's way; but why that should make a little wench in the crowd pinch my arm, I can't tell. 'Twas the oddest thing! The little quean asked me if I was your friend. I stared at her, and said,--'Ay, marry; but I didn't see that gave her a right to pinch my arm.' Whereupon she laughed. 'What are you laughing for?' said I. 'Because you're such a merry little boy,' said she. 'Grammercy, little girl,' said I. Whereupon she began to laugh more than ever; and I had to say I'd send the leech from the castle to give her something to stop her going on like that before she made an end of it; and when she did, she finished up with,--'Oh, do let me tell you what I wanted to, before I die of laughing at such a merry little tom-tit.' There! I solemnly declare she called me a tom-tit, though, certes, I doubt if you'd credit it."

"Well, what's all this about? when are you coming to the point?" said Ralph.

"Marry! that is just what I said to the little wench, and she did nothing but laugh. At last she quieted down, and said, if I was your friend, I was to be sure and look after you and Bowerman. She said she did not like that boy--fancy Bowerman's joy! I'll tell him she called him a boy; and there I agreed with her. She seemed to think Bowerman meant to do you a mischief, and i'faith I shouldn't marvel. 'Twas he who had something to do with laming Black Tom, I'll wager; and he's as mad with rage and spite against you as 'tis possible to be without choking. I only wish he would! So now, young man, I shall look after you. Don't be down-hearted; I am near you; I'll take care of you. But who'd have thought it! She called me a tom-tit! Dicky Cheke a tom-tit! Richard Cheke, page-in-waiting to the high and mighty Captain of the Wight, tom-tit! Good lack! good lack!"

"Well, 'tis a comfort you'll take care of me, in sooth," said Ralph, as he went up the narrow winding stairs to his room, which he shared with Dicky, and which was next that of Bowerman, at the top of a turret overlooking the courtyard.

Humphrey followed his young master, and unbuckled his armour.

"Marry! Master Ralph, what'll they say down Thruxton way?"

"'Tis a piece of luck, Humphrey, and I can't claim any credit in the tilt. But why do you think that unknown knight showed me such favour?"

"Beshrew me if I know; but 'tis clear enough he did let you off. Well, no matter! I'faith, all the better, say I. You'll be sure to have the ruby ring: I heard every one say so."

"Do you think I shall have the prize?" cried Ralph, astonished and delighted.

"Ay, marry, do I! That rusty one won't have it, albeit he deserves it. They always give it to a young one like you, if they can in reason."

"Well, I almost wish I may not get it," said Ralph thoughtfully.

"And why, Master Ralph?"

"Because of course I don't deserve it, and 'twill make Bowerman more jealous of me than ever, and he will have cause, certes, for saying I have been favoured."

"Oh, never fear him! You take my advice, and give him a good trouncing. You can easily do it, and he'd be all the better for it. Not but what he's a spiteful lad; and 'tisn't only me as thinks he knows more about Black Tom going lame than he'd like any one to say."

"Have you heard who that knight was?"

"Ay, there's a many as knows. Some says 'tis Sir Robert Clifford, him as is a known Yorkist, and who's been looked for for some time past. Others say 'tis my Lord Lovell, who's never been heard of since Stoke field. There's some as say even 'tis King Richard himself, got well of the wounds as laid him low at Bosworth. I'faith, there's no end to the tales they all swear is the truth."

"And what do you think, Humphrey?"

"Well, I doesn't just know what to think; but I'se sure he be a Yorkist, because of his collar. But then I can't think why the Captain didn't have him placed in safe keeping. 'Twill look ugly at Court, I'm thinking, and the King won't be best pleased when he hears of it."

By this time Ralph had stripped off all his armour, and was dressing himself in his gay new suit, which set off his well-knit, graceful figure to perfection. As he finished, and Humphrey was admiring his young master, the step of somebody ascending the narrow stairs could be heard, and soon afterwards Bowerman entered his room and shut his door.

When Ralph came into the hall he was almost dazzled by the brilliancy of the scene. He found himself the centre of attraction, and it would have been strange if his head had not been a little turned by the attentions he received. While standing in the lower part of the hall, Dicky Cheke, who was now splendidly dressed, but in the livery of a page, came up to him with an air of great importance.

"Lisle," he said, in a loud tone, and looking superciliously at the guests who were talking to Ralph, "the Lord Captain of the Wight is wishful to discourse with thee."

This was a high honour; and Ralph, bowing to the worthy esquire to whom he was talking, followed Dicky to the dais at the end of the hall, where Sir Nicholas Wadham was talking to the Sire de Kervignac, and Yolande was gaily chatting to the Captain of the Wight and the other Breton knight. Ralph felt very shy as he came up, all eyes following his splendidly-dressed, graceful figure. He held his plumed velvet bonnet in his hand, and his wavy brown hair hung in luxuriant masses on each side of his frank, boyish face.

Lord Woodville greeted him very kindly.

"My fair esquire," he said, "I am right joyous at thy gallant bearing. Thou wilt make a good knight ere long; and albeit thou hast won thy fame by the favour of thine adversary, yet thou hast shown to all men how well thou canst tilt, and what promise there is hereafter."

"Ma foi!" said the Sire de la Roche Guemené, shrugging his shoulders, and smiling; "I vould zat ze damoiseau had shown me a leetle favour. It vas a rude knock he gave me."

"Cousin Ralph," said Yolande, smiling at him with her sunny, radiant smile, "I am full glad thou art so puissant a chevalier, and right proud am I that thou and I bear the same name. 'Tis the noblest name in the island, and full nobly hast thou held up its fame."

Ralph could only look intensely pleased; he could not speak a word. He simply gazed at his cousin with eyes brimful of admiration and affection.

Seeing his confusion, the Captain of the Wight said,--

"Noble Judges, we are all here now. To whom shall we award the prize in this day's tilt?"

Sir Nicholas Wadham gave his opinion in favour of the unknown knight, but the Captain of the Wight produced a scrap of paper, part of which was torn off in which it was declared, on behalf of the unknown knight, that he tilted for no prize, looking for a higher guerdon and more deadly tilt a entrance as his reward hereafter.

"That, then, settles the matter," said Sir John Trenchard, "for the only other man-at-arms who was not unhorsed was Master Lisle."

"Then, my noble friends, I may take it that we all agree the prize belongs to Master Lisle?"

The others assenting, the Captain of the Wight made a signal to the trumpeters, who gave a prolonged flourish, after which, amid dead silence, the Captain briefly declared the opinion of the Court, praising the courtesy and generosity of the Breton nobles, and significantly declaring that "he knew all men there were right wishful to requite courtesy by courtesy, and would fain send back over the seas such a goodly company as would show their Breton kinsmen how greatly they valued their friendship and good fellowship against their common enemy of France," a sentiment which was received with gravity by the older knights and esquires present, but was rapturously applauded by the younger men. After this Lord Woodville handed to Yolande the ruby ring in its casket, declaring Ralph Lisle to have duly won it by his skill and hardy prowess.

There was prolonged cheering as Lord Woodville finished, and the shouts were deafening as Ralph knelt down and received the ring from his cousin, who handed it him with a sweet smile and gentle words. He took it rapturously, and stammered a few words of thanks to her, the queen of the tourney, and to the Breton nobles who had given the prize; and then, before rising from his knee, he gave it back to his cousin, asking her to keep it in remembrance of that day, and for his sake. Yolande took the trinket with evident pleasure, and a well-feigned air of surprise, thanking Ralph cordially, who rose from his kneeling position, and was about to retire, when old Sir William Lisle, who was standing by, a smile of pleasure softening his grim and determined features, said,--

"By'r Lady, Ralph, thou art a damoiseau in sooth, or thou wouldest know there is another prize thou canst claim, an thou likest, and the guerdon, by all the laws of the tourney, may not be withholden."

Ralph looked up with a puzzled air, while Yolande held down her fair head, and pouted with a half-vexed air.

"Nay, father, cousin Ralph knows full well what is best to be done. Go, fair cousin, 'tis a custom better honoured in the breach than the observance."

"Humph!" chuckled Sir William. "An thou callest it by that--"

But Lord Woodville hastily interrupted, well knowing the humour of the old knight.

"Master Lisle," he said, smiling, "Sir William means that by the laws of the tourney and chivalry the winner the most laud and guerdon may claim a favour from the Queen of the Tilt, which she may not refuse. In other words thou mayest--"

"Nay, nay, my Lord Captain," broke in Yolande, "thou hast said enough. Cousin Ralph, the ceremony is over," she added hastily, and with a heightened colour; "thou art keeping all the company from their converse and pastime."

Ralph stood looking on somewhat abashed, and at last, making a low bow, and dropping once more on one knee, he gracefully took his cousin's fair hand, and imprinted a kiss of respectful love and homage. Then rising, amid the hum of congratulation from the company, he retired into the body of the hall.

"Well, times are changed," said Sir Nicholas Wadham; "I'd never kiss a fair maid's hand if I could have her lips, and cheek, for the asking or taking."

"Then you are a ruder man than I took you for, Sir Nicholas, and I shall tell Lady Wadham what you have said. I am glad my cousin hath learnt better ways," said Yolande, tossing her head, and giving Sir Nicholas a severe look.

The guests were now all assembled, and the banquet was ready. A prolonged blast on the silver trumpet of Lord Woodville's trumpet-major announced the beginning of the feast, and soon the hum of voices gave place to the clatter of knives and jingle of plate. There was the usual medley of fish, flesh, and fowl served up in the quaint fashion of the time, and succeeding each other, with fantastic sweets intervening, after the mode of the age. Subtleties and jellies, baked meats and roast; soups of divers sorts, and some resembling rather sweet syrups than the modern soups, rapidly succeeded each other, or adorned the long tables set down the hall, while gaily-dressed serving-men and varlets handed the dishes and washed up the plates, at a large table or dresser at one end. In a gallery above, the musicians played tunes both gay and plaintive, according to the taste of the age, for fair ladies were supposed to be quite as much pleased with the sufferings of their knights as with their valiant deeds, and a gentle knight who could not suffer becomingly, had not learnt a very important part of his education in the court of chivalrous romance. In the intervals of the music a jongleur recited the adventures of Sir Tristram and the fair Yseult, while the jester belonging to the household of the Captain of the Wight interrupted him from time to time with broad jokes, dry remarks, or riddles which he answered himself.

After the banquet, the tables were hastily cleared, while most of the company adjourned to the castle-yard and sauntered round the noble quadrangle, where the soft light of the moon threw quaint shadows down over the grass and walls of the castle.

The minstrels took up their position on a platform near the wellhouse, and the gentlemen and ladies paired off in readiness for the dancing to begin. The music soon struck up, and away the couples went in the stately "Pas de Brabant."

Ralph was standing in a state of dreamy joy watching the graceful figures of the ladies, before whom each chevalier bent the knee as he revolved in the intricacies of the dance. He was thinking how lucky he was, and how kind and lovely Yolande looked as she danced with sweet grace in a set with the Captain of the Wight for her partner, and the Sire de la Roche Guemené, with a pretty girl dressed in exquisite taste, as their vis-à-vis.

As Ralph stood looking on, Newenhall came up to him.

"Lisle, there's a young damsel wishes to speak with thee. She's outside the main gate, and cannot come in. Jock Osborn's sergeant of the guard; he'll let thee out, an there's any hindrance."

Ralph's thoughts instantly flew to the events of the tilt. Somehow this little girl seemed to have a strange influence on his destiny.

He went to the gate. The deep shadows of the huge towers were impenetrable in their opaqueness. He stepped out of the bright moonlight, his graceful figure gleaming in its gay attire, and flashing in the silver light, before he disappeared into the black shadow. The guards were keeping but a lazy watch. He pushed aside the little wicket-gate in the huge iron-studded door, and stepped out into the blackness, rendered all the blacker by the brilliancy of the landscape beyond. The shadow of the two noble towers and main ward was thrown clear and distinct across the drawbridge and road outside, while all beyond shone and sparkled in the moonbeams. A silver haze spread over the valley in the distance, and the sounds of music and revelry gaily vibrated behind.

Ralph could see no one. He looked into the shadow of the great gate. There was a sound there--a faint rustle.

"Little maid, is that you?" said Ralph.

A sharp spasm, a burning pain, was the sudden answer, and Ralph knew no more.
A SHARP SPASM WAS THE SUDDEN ANSWER.
A SHARP SPASM WAS THE SUDDEN ANSWER.

Half a minute after, and Dicky Cheke sprang through the door.

"Ralph," he cried, "Ralph, come back, 'tis a trap!" but all he saw was a figure disappearing in the silver haze over the brow of the steep hill.