A March on London by G. A. HentyBeing a Story of Wat Tyler’s Insurrection (page 4)

When he had concluded, his father said: “Truly, Edgar, you have been fortunate indeed, which is another way of saying that you have skilfully grasped the opportunities that presented themselves. The man who bemoans ill-fortune is the man too apathetic, too unready, or too cowardly to grasp opportunity. The man who is called fortunate is, on the other hand, he who never lets a chance slip by, who is cool, resolute, and determined. During the time that you have been away you have made friends of two wealthy merchants, and have rendered them both high services; you have also as greatly benefited our neighbour, Sir Ralph De Courcy, and have placed your foot so firmly on the ladder, that ’tis your own fault if you do not rise high. And now, what think you of doing?”

“I have the intention of staying at home for a while, father. There will be troubles for a time, but I care not to take part in the hunting down of these poor peasants north of the river, who, unlike these fellows, were well content when the king offered them the charter granting their demands, and retired peacefully to their homes. So I would rather remain here quietly until I have a chance of drawing sword in a foreign war, either against the French or the Scots.”

“I think that you are right; and, moreover, although you have proved your manhood against men, you can hardly, when with an army, be regarded as more than a young esquire till another year or two have gone over your head.”

Two days later, finding that all was now perfectly quiet, and that there was no probability whatever of a renewal of the troubles, Sir Ralph went up to London with the city knight and his company. They had ridden over on the previous day to call upon Mr. Ormskirk to thank him for the services that Edgar had rendered them, and upon which they entered in much fuller detail than Edgar had allowed himself. In return he gave them a description of the defence of his house, in which Sir Robert was greatly interested, going down into the laboratory and examining the luminous paint and its effect upon the skull.

“It is a goodly device,” he said, “and though I myself have, during my visit to Italy, come to believe but little in the superstitions that are held by the mass of the people, I own that my courage would have been grievously shaken if I had encountered suddenly that gibbering head. How long does the effect last?”

“Three or four days. I believe that it is a sort of slow combustion which, although it has no sensible heat, gradually consumes the particles that give rise to it. It may be that further researches will lead to a discovery by which the light might be made permanent, and in that case the invention would be a useful one. I have, however, no time to follow it up, being engaged in more serious matters, and regard this as a mere relaxation from more important work.”

“And yet, methinks,” the merchant said, “that were men of science, like yourself, to devote themselves to such discoveries, instead of searching for the secrets that always evade them, they might do good service to mankind. Look at this discovery of Friar Bacon’s. So far, I grant that it has led to nothing, but I can see that in the future the explosive power of this powder will be turned to diverse uses besides those of machines for battering down walls. Were this light of yours made permanent it would do away with the necessity for burning lamps indoors. What could be more beautiful than a hall with its ceilings, rafters, walls, and pillars all glowing as if in the moonlight? For methinks the light resembles that of the moon rather than any other.”

“Were I a young man I would take up such matters, Sir Robert, for I believe with you that the time might be more usefully spent; but ’tis too late now. ‘Tis not when one’s prime is past that men can embark in a fresh course or lay aside the work for which they have laboured for so many years.”

“And which, even if made, might bring more woe than good upon the world,” Sir Robert said. “Where would be the value of gold if other metals could at will be transformed into it? When first produced, it might enable monarchs to raise huge armies to wage war against their neighbours; but, after a time, its use would become common. Gold would lose its value, and men would come to think less of it than of iron, for it is not so strong nor so fitted for weapons or for tools; and then some other and rarer metal would take its place, and alchemists would begin their work again in discovering another philosopher’s stone that would transmute other metals into the more valuable one.”

Mr. Ormskirk was silent. “I think, Sir Robert,” he said, at last, “that we alchemists do not work solely for the good of mankind, nor give a thought to the consequences that might follow the finding of the philosopher’s stone. We dream of immortality, that our name shall pass down through all ages as that of the man who first conquered the secret of nature and made the great discovery that so many thousands of others have sought for in vain.”

“It is assuredly an ambition as worthy as many others,” Sir Robert said, thoughtfully. “A knight would be ready to risk his life a thousand times in order to gain the reputation of being one of the foremost knights of Europe. A king would wring the last penny from his subjects for a rich monument that will, he thinks, carry down his name to all time; and doubtless the discovery of a secret that has baffled research for hundreds of years, is at least as worthy an ambition as these–far more laudable, indeed, since it can be carried out without inflicting woes upon others. And now farewell, Mr. Ormskirk. I trust that your son will always remember that in me he has a friend ready to do aught in his power for him. I am but a simple citizen of London, but I have correspondents in well-nigh every city in Europe, and can give him introductions that may be valuable wheresoever he goes, and I shall be grieved indeed if he does not avail himself of my good-will and gratitude.”

Three days later Sir Ralph returned to St. Alwyth from London with his dame and Aline. For some weeks time passed quietly and pleasantly to Edgar. The intimacy between the two houses became even closer than before, and Sir Ralph’s report of Edgar’s doings in London caused him to be frequently invited to the houses of all the well-to-do people in the neighbourhood. In the meantime the insurrection had been finally crushed. The commissioners in various parts of the country were trying and executing all who had taken any lead in the movement, and until a general amnesty was passed, two months later, every peasant lived in hourly dread of his life. They had gained nothing by the movement from which they had hoped so much, and for a while, indeed, their position was worse than it had ever been before.

In time, however, as the remembrance of the insurrection died out, it bore its fruits, and although there was no specific law passed abolishing serfdom, the result was arrived at insensibly. Privileges were granted, and these privileges became customs with all the effect of the law, and almost without their knowing it, the people became possessed of the rights for which their fathers had in vain taken up arms. Three weeks after Edgar’s return from London a royal commission came down to Dartford, and the authorities of the town and others were called upon to name the leaders of the insurgents.

Sir Ralph, who was one of those summoned, said that he was altogether unable to give any information. He had been away when the first outbreak took place. On his return he found his castle besieged, but having with him fifty stout men-at-arms, he attacked and pursued the insurgents, and nearly five hundred of them were slain. But fighting, as he did, with his vizor down, and having, for a time, as much as he could do to defend himself, he had recognized no one, and indeed, so far as he knew, he did not see one among the rioters with whose face he was acquainted.

Two days later, as Edgar was riding back from Sir Ralph’s castle, he came suddenly upon a man at a cross-road. He was one of the villagers.

“Well, Master Ormskirk,” he said, folding his arms, “you can kill me if you will, and it will be best so, for if you do not I shall live but the life of a hunted dog, and sooner or later fall into their hands.”

“Why should I kill you, Carter? I have naught against you.”

“Then it was not you who denounced me as one of those who fought against you at De Courcy’s castle?”

“Not I, assuredly. I have had no communication whatever with the commissioners, nor did I know that you were one of those we encountered there.”

“Someone has given my name,” the man said, moodily. “I suppose it was some of those at Dartford, for it is true enough that I joined the Tyler the day he slew the collector. I thought that he had done rightfully, and it may be that, like a fool, I have exhorted others to join him to win our charter of rights, I thought it was to be got honestly, that no harm was to be done to any man; but when we got to London, and I saw that the Tyler and others intended to slay many persons of high rank and to burn and destroy, I was seized with horror, and made my way back. When the others returned I was fool enough to let myself be persuaded to join in the attack on Sir Ralph’s castle; and for that and the speeches, it seems that I am to be tried and hung. You had best run me through, Master Ormskirk, and have done with it; I would rather that than be hung like a dog.”

“I shall do nothing of the kind, Carter. I have known you for years as an honest, and a hard-working fellow. Here are a couple of crowns with which you can make your way to London.”

“‘Tis no good, sir. I hear that there are parties of men on every road, and that orders have been given in every township to arrest all passers- by, and to detain them if they have not proper papers with them. Well, I can die better than some, for I lost my wife last Christmas, and have no children; so if you won’t do my business for me I will go straight back to Dartford and give myself up.”

“No, no, Carter. Do you go into that wood, and remain there till nightfall; then come to our house and knock at the gate, and you can shelter there as long as you like. As you know, there are few indeed who come there, and if I get you a servitor’s suit, assuredly none of our visitors would recognize you, and as for the village folk, you have but to keep out of their way when they come with wood, meat, and other matters. It may not be for long, for ’tis like that I shall be going to the wars soon, and when I do so I will take you with me as my man-at-arms. Moreover, it is probable that when the commissioners have sat for a time, and executed all the prominent leaders of this rioting, there will be an amnesty passed. What do you say to that?”

“I say, God bless you, sir! I know well enough that I deserve everything that has befallen me, for of a surety the murders that were done in London have so disgraced our cause that no one has a right to look for mercy. However, sir, if you are willing to give me such shelter as you say, I will serve you well and faithfully, and will right willingly imperil the last drop of my blood in your service.”

“Then it is agreed, Carter. Come soon after nightfall. I am sure that my father will approve of what I am doing, and should the worst come to the worst, and you be discovered, he would be able to say truly that he knew not that you were wanted for your share in the matter, for, indeed, he takes but small notice of what is passing without. Now you had better be off at once to hiding before anyone else comes along.”

“Father,” Edgar said, when he returned, “I have taken on an additional servitor in the house. He will cost you naught but his food while he is here, and he will ride with me as my man-at-arms if I go abroad. He is a stout fellow, and I beg that you will ask me no questions concerning him, and will take him simply on my recommendation. He will not stir out of the house at present, but you may make him of use in your laboratory if you can.”

“I think that I understand, Edgar. After a business like that which is just over, vengeance often strikes blindly, and ’tis enough for me that you declare him to be honest, and that you have known him for some time.”

“Andrew,” Edgar said to the old servitor after he had left his father, “I know that you are no gossip, and that in the matter of which I am going to speak to you I can rely upon your discretion. I have taken on a stout fellow, who will follow me to the wars as a man-at-arms. It may be that you will know him when you see him; indeed, I doubt not that you will do so. It is good for him at present that he should not stir beyond the walls, and he will, indeed, remain indoors all day. There are a good many others like him, who just at present will be keeping quiet, and you may be sure that I should not befriend the man were it not that I feel certain he has had no hand in the evil deeds performed by others.”

“I understand, young master, and you may trust me to keep my lips sealed. I hear that a score have been hung during the last three days, and though I am no upholder of rioters, methinks that now they have had a bitter lesson. The courts might have been content with punishing only those who took a part in the murders and burnings in London. The rest were but poor foolish knaves, who knew no better, and who were led astray by the preachings of some of these Jack Priests and other troublers of the peace.”

“Think you that it would be best to speak to old Anna?”

“Not a bit, Master Ormskirk. Save to go to mass, she never stirs beyond the house, and she is so deaf that you have to shout into her ear to make her hear the smallest thing. I will simply say to her that you have got a man-at-arms to go with you to the wars, and that until you leave he is to remain here in the house. You did not tell me whether I was to take your horse round to the stable.”

“No; I am going to ride into Dartford now, to get the man some apparel suited to his station here.”

Edgar returned in an hour, bringing with him a servitor’s suit. As soon as Hal Carter arrived, Edgar himself opened the gate to him.

“Strip off those clothes, and put on this suit; it were best that you be not seen in your ordinary attire. However, you can trust old Andrew, and as to Anna, there is little chance of her recognizing you, and I don’t suppose she as much as knows that there has been trouble in the land.”

A month later a mounted messenger brought Edgar a letter–it was the first that he had ever received. Telling the man to alight, and calling Carter to take his horse, he led the man into the kitchen and told Anna to give him some food. He then opened the letter. It ran as follows:

_To Master Edgar Ormskirk, with hearty greeting,_

_Be it known to you, good friend, that having wound up my business affairs, I am about to start for Flanders, and shall, in the first place, go to Ghent, having a mission from those in authority at Court here to carry out in that city. It would greatly please me if you would accompany me. The times are troubled in Flanders, as you doubtless know, and you would see much to interest you; and, moreover, as at present there is naught doing in England, save the trying and executing of malefactors, you could spend your time better in seeing somewhat of a foreign country than in resting quietly at St. Alwyth. I need not say that the trip will put you to no cost, and that by accepting, you will give pleasure to my wife and daughter, as well as to myself._

_Yours in friendship,_

_NICHOLAS VAN VOORDEN._

_P.S.–I am writing at the same time to Master De Courcy, who, I hope, will also accompany me._

Edgar went down at once to his father’s laboratory and handed him the letter. Mr. Ormskirk read it.

“It is a hearty invitation, Edgar,” he said, “and after the kindness of the Fleming in presenting you with that splendid suit of armour, you can scarce refuse it; but, indeed, in any case, I should be glad for you to accompany him to Flanders. The Flemings are mostly our allies against France, and it would be well for you to pass some time among them, to learn as much as you can of their language, and to acquaint yourself with their customs. Their towns are virtually independent republics, like those of Athens, Sparta, and Thebes. The power lies wholly in the hands of the democracy, and rough fellows are they. The nobles have little or no influence, save in the country districts. The Flemings are at present on ill terms with France, seeing that they, like us, support Pope Urban, while the French, Spaniards, and others hold to Pope Clement.

“Possibly neither may care very much which pope gets the mastery, but it makes a convenient bone of contention, and so is useful to neighbours on bad terms with each other. Go, by all means. You had best write a reply at once, and hand it to the messenger. Have you heard yet whether he has been to the De Courcy’s castle?”

“I did not ask him, father, for I did not read the letter until I had handed him over to Anna to get some food in the kitchen. I will go and ask him now, and if he has not yet gone there I will ride with him. ‘Tis a cross-road, and he might have difficulty in finding it; besides, perhaps if I tell Sir Ralph that I am going, it may influence him to let Albert go also.”

He went down to the kitchen and found that the messenger had not yet been to the castle. Telling him that he would go with him and act as his guide, and would be ready to start in a quarter of an hour, Edgar sat down to write to the Fleming. It was the first time that he had ever indited a letter, and it took him longer than he expected. When he went down, the messenger was already standing by his horse, while Carter was walking Edgar’s up and down.

Albert and Aline were at the castle gate as they rode up.

“We were in the pleasaunce when we saw you coming, Edgar. We did not expect you until to-morrow.”

“I have come over with a messenger, who is the bearer of a letter to you.”

“You mean to my father, I suppose?”

“No, indeed; it is for yourself, and I have had a similar one. I have written an answer, and I hope you will write one in the same strain.”

“Who can it be from?” Aline said, as Albert took out his dagger and cut the silk that held the roll.

“It is from our good friend, Mynheer Van Voorden,” Edgar said. “He is just leaving for Flanders, and has written to ask Albert and myself to accompany him thither.”

“And I suppose that you have accepted,” Aline said, pettishly.

“Yes, indeed; my father thinks that it will be very good for me to see something of foreign countries, and especially Flanders. As there is nothing doing here now, I am wasting my time, and doubtless in the great Flemish cities I shall be able to find masters who can teach me many things with the sword.”

“And how are we going to get on without you, I should like to know?” she asked, indignantly, “especially if you are going to take Albert away too.”

“Albert will decide for himself–at least Sir Ralph will decide for him, Mistress Aline.”

“It is all very well to say that, but you know perfectly well that Albert will be wanting to go if you are going, and that Sir Ralph will not say no, if you and he both want it.”

“Well, you would wish us to become accomplished knights some day, and assuredly, as all say, that is a thing better learned abroad than in England.”

“I am quite satisfied with you as you are,” she replied, “and I call it a downright shame. I thought, anyhow, I was going to have you both here until some great war broke out, and here you are running away for your amusement. It is all very well for you to contend that you think it may do you good, but it is just for change and excitement that you want to go.”

By this time Albert had finished reading the letter.

“That will be splendid,” he said. “I have always thought that I should like to see the great Flemish cities. Why, what is the matter, Aline?” he broke off, seeing tears in his sister’s eyes.

“Is it not natural that I should feel sorry at the thought of your going away? We have to stay all our lives at home, while you wander about, either fighting or looking for danger wherever it pleases you.”

“I don’t think that it is quite fair myself, Aline, but I did not have anything to do with regulating our manners and customs; besides, it is not certain yet that my father will let me go.”

They had by this time reached the spot where Sir Ralph was watching a party of masons engaged in heightening the parapet of the wall, as the experience of the last fight showed that it did not afford sufficient protection to its defenders.

“Well, Albert, what is your news?” he said, as he saw by their faces that something unusual had happened.

“A letter from Mynheer Van Voorden to ask me to accompany him to Flanders, whither he is about to sail. He has asked Edgar too, and his father has consented.”

“Read me the letter, Albert. ‘Tis a fair offer,” he said, when Albert came to the end, “and pleases me much. I had spoken but yesterday with your mother, saying that it was high time you were out in the world, the only difficulty being with whom to place you. There are many knights of my acquaintance who would gladly enough take you as esquire, but it is so difficult to choose. It might be that, from some cause or other, your lord might not go to the wars; unless, of course, it were a levy of all the royal forces, and then it would be both grief to you and me that I had not put you with another lord under whom you might have had a better opportunity.

“But this settles the difficulty. By the time you come back there may be some chance of your seeing service under our own flag. Lancaster has just made a three years’ truce with the Scots, and it may be that he will now make preparations in earnest to sail with an array to conquer his kingdom in Spain. That would be an enterprise in which an aspirant for knighthood might well desire to take part. The Spaniards are courtly knights and brave fellows, and there is like to be hard fighting. This invitation is a timely one. Foreign travel is a part of the education of a knight, and in Flanders there are always factions, intrigues, and troubles. Then there is a French side and an English side, and the French side is further split up by the Flemings inclining rather to Burgundy than to the Valois. Why, this is better than that gift of armour, and it was a lucky day indeed for you when you went to his daughter’s aid. Faith, such a piece of luck never fell in my way.”

“Shall I go and write the letter at once, father?”

“There is no hurry, Albert. The messenger must have ridden from town to- day, and as he went first to Master Ormskirk’s, that would lengthen his journey by three or four miles, therefore man and horse need rest, and it were best, I should think, that he sleep here to-night, and be off betimes in the morning. It would be dark before he reached the city, and the roads are not safe riding after nightfall; besides, it can make no difference to Van Voorden whether he gets the answer to-night or by ten o’clock to- morrow morning.”

Dame Agatha did not, as Aline had somewhat hoped, say a word to persuade Sir Ralph to keep Albert longer at home. She looked wistfully at the lad as the knight told her of the invitation that had come, and at his hearty pleasure thereat, but she only said: “I am sorely unwilling to part with you, Albert, but I know that it is best for you to be entering the world, and that I could not expect to have you many months longer. Your father and I were agreeing on that yesterday. A knight cannot remain by a fireside, and it is a comfort to me that this first absence of yours should be with the good Flemish merchant, and I like much also his wife and daughter, who were most kind to us when we tarried with them in London when your father was away. I would far rather you were with him, than in the train of some lord, bound for the wars. I am glad, too, that your good friend Edgar is going with you. Altogether, it is better than anything I had thought of, and though I cannot part with you without a sigh, I can feel that the parting might well have been much more painful. What say you, Aline?”

“I knew, as you say, mother, that it was certain that Albert would have to leave us, but I did not think that it would be so soon. It is very hateful, and I shall miss him dreadfully.”

“Yes, my dear, but you must remember it was so I felt the many times that your father went to the war. It is so with the wife of every knight and noble in the land. And not only these, but also the wives of the men-at- arms and archers, and it will be yours when you too have a lord. Men risk their lives in battle; women stay at home and mind their castles. We each have our tasks. You know the lines that the priest John Ball used, they say, as a text for his harangues to the crowds, _When Adam delved and Eve span_. You see, one did the rough part of the toil, the other sat at home and did what was needful there, and so it has been ever since. You know how you shared our feelings of delight that your brother had grown stronger, and would be able to take his own part, as his fathers had done before him, to become a brave and valiant knight, and assuredly it is not for you to repine now that a fair opportunity offers for him to prepare for his career.”

“I was wrong, mother,” Aline said, penitently. “I was very cross and ill- behaved, but it came suddenly upon me, and it seemed to me hard that Albert and Edgar should both seem delighted at what pained me so much. Forgive me, Albert.”

“There is nothing to forgive, dear. Of course I understand your feeling that it will be hard for us to part, when we have been so much together. I shall be very sorry to leave you, but I am sure you will agree with me that it is less hard to do so now than it would have been if I had been going to be shut up in a convent to prepare for entering the Church, as we once thought would be the case.”

“I should think so,” the girl said. “This will be nothing to it. Then you would have been going out of our lives; now we shall have an interest in all you do, and you will often be coming back to us; there will be that to look forward to. Well, you won’t hear me say another word of grumbling until you have gone. And when are you to go?”

“To-morrow or next day,” her father said. “Mynheer Van Voorden says, ‘I am about to start,’ which may mean three days or six. It will need a whole day for your mother and the maids to see to Albert’s clothes, and that all is decent and in order. To-day is Monday, and I think that if we say that Albert will arrive there on Thursday by noon it will do very well. Will you be ready by that time, Edgar?”

“Easily enough, Sir Ralph; for, indeed, as we have no maid, my clothes need but little preparation. I wear them until they are worn out, and then get new ones; and I doubt not that I shall be able to replenish my wardrobe to-morrow at Dartford.”

Well pleased to find that Albert was to accompany him, Edgar rode home. As he passed in at the gates, Hal Carter ran up to him. “Master tells me that you are going away, Master Edgar. Are you going to take me with you?”

“Not this time, Hal. I am going to Flanders as a guest of a Flemish gentleman, and I could not therefore take a man-at-arms with me; besides, as you know naught of the language, you would be altogether useless there. But do not think that I shall not fulfil my promise. This is but a short absence, and when I return I shall enter the train of some warlike knight or other, and then you shall go with me, never fear.”

“Thank you, sir. ‘Tis strange to me to be pent up here; not that I have aught in the world to complain of; your father is most kind to me, and I do hope that I am of some use to him.”

“Yes, my father has told me several times how useful you were to him in washing out his apparatus and cleaning his crucibles and getting his fires going in readiness. He wonders now how he got on so long without a helper, and will be sorry when the time comes for you to go with me. Indeed he said, but two days ago, that when you went he should certainly look for someone to fill your place.”

“So long as he feels that, Master Edgar, I shall be willing enough to stay, but it seemed to me that I was doing but small service in return for meat and drink and shelter. I should feel that I was getting fat and lazy, were it not that I swing a battle-axe every day for an hour, as you bade me.”

“Look through your apparel, Edgar,” his father said that evening, “and see what you lack. To-morrow morning I will give you moneys wherewith you can repair deficiencies. The suits you got in London will suffice you for the present, but as winter approaches you must get yourself cloth garments, and these can be purchased more cheaply in Flanders than here. Of course, I know not how long your stay there may be; that must depend upon your host. It would be well if, at the end of a month, you should speak about returning, then you will see by his manner whether he really wishes you to make a longer stay or not. Methinks, however, that it is likely he will like you to stay with him until the spring if there is no matter of importance for which you would wish to return. I am sure that he feels very earnestly how much he owes to you, and is desirous of doing you real service; and to my thinking he can do it in no better manner than by giving you six months in Flanders.”

Accordingly, three days later, the two friends again rode to London. Each was followed by a man on horseback leading a sumpter-horse carrying the baggage; and Hal Carter was much pleased when he was told that he was to perform this service. Both, for the convenience of carriage, wore their body-armour and arm-pieces, the helmets and greaves being carried with their baggage. On their arrival they were most cordially received by Van Voorden and his family, and found that they were to start on Saturday. On the following morning the lads went to the Tower to pay their respects to the king.

“Be sure you do not neglect that,” Sir Ralph had said; “the king is mightily well disposed to you, as I told you. I had related to him in full the affairs in which you took part in London, and on my return after the fight here, I, of course, told him the incidents of the battle, and he said, ‘If all my knights had borne themselves as well as your son and his friend, I should not have been in so sore a strait. I should be glad to have them about my person now; but I can well understand that you wish your son to make a name for himself as a valiant knight, and that for a time I must curb my desire.'”

The king received them very graciously. “Sir Ralph and you did good work in dispersing that Kentish rabble, and doing with one blow what it has taken six weeks to accomplish in Essex and Hertford. So you are going to Flanders? You will see there what has come of allowing the rabble to get the mastery. But of a truth the knaves of Ghent and Bruges are of very different mettle to those here, and fight as stoutly as many men-at-arms.”

“‘Tis true, your Majesty,” Edgar said, “but not because they are stouter men, for those we defeated so easily down in Kent are of the same mettle as our archers and men-at-arms who fought so stoutly at Cressy and Poictiers, but they have no leading and no discipline. They know, too, that against mail-clad men they are powerless; but if they were freemen, and called out on your Majesty’s service, they would fight as well as did their forefathers.”

“You are in favour, then, of granting them freedom?”

“It seems to me that it would strengthen your Majesty’s power, and would add considerably to the force that you could put in the field, and would make the people happier and more contented. Living down among them as we do, one cannot but see that ’tis hard on men that they may not go to open market, but must work for such wages as their lords may choose to give them, and be viewed as men of no account, whereas they are as strong and able to work as others.”

“You may be right,” the young king said, “but you see, my councillors think otherwise, and I am not yet rightly my own master. In one matter, however, I can have my way, and that is in dispensing honours. You know what I said to you before you went hence, that, young as you were, I would fain knight you for the valiant work that you had done. Since then you have done me good service, as well as the realm, by having, with Sir Ralph De Courcy and Sir Robert Gaiton, defeated a great body of the Kentish rebels, who were the worst and most violent of all, though there were with you but fifty men-at-arms. This is truly knightly service, and their defeat drove all rioters in that part to their homes, whereas, had they not been so beaten, there might have been much more trouble, and many worthy men might have been slain by them.

[Illustration: EDGAR AND ALBERT ARE KNIGHTED BY KING RICHARD.]

“Moreover, as you are going to Flanders with our good friend Mynheer Van Voorden, who is in a way charged with a mission from us, it is well that you should travel as knights. It will give you more influence, and may aid him to further my object. Therefore, I am sure, that all here who know how stoutly you have wielded your swords, and how you gave aid and rescue to the worshipful Mynheer Van Voorden and his family, to stout Sir Robert Gaiton, Dame De Courcy and her daughter, and how you bore yourselves in the fight down in Kent, will agree with me that you have right well won the honour.”

Then, drawing his sword, he touched each slightly on the shoulder:

“Rise, Sir Albert De Courcy, and Sir Edgar Ormskirk.”

As the lads rose they were warmly congratulated by several of the nobles and knights standing round.

“I will not detain you,” the king said, a short time later. “Doubtless you have many preparations to make for your voyage. I hope that things will fare well with you in Flanders. Bear in mind that if you draw sword for Mynheer Van Voorden you are doing it for England.”

CHAPTER XII

THE TROUBLES IN FLANDERS

On re-entering the city gates they first went to an armourer’s, where they purchased and buckled on some gilded spurs.

“Truly, Albert, I can scarce believe our good fortune,” Edgar said, as they left the shop. “It seems marvellous that though we have not served as esquires, we should yet at seventeen be dubbed knights by the king.”

“You have well deserved it, Edgar; as for me, I have but done my best to second you.”

“And a very good best it was, Albert,” Edgar laughed. “‘Tis true that in the skirmish outside Aldersgate I might have managed by myself, but in the Fleming’s affair and in the Tower I should have fared hardly indeed had it not been for your help. I fancy that we have the Fleming to thank for this good fortune. You see he had already told the king that we were to accompany him, and perhaps he may have pointed out to him that it might be to the advantage of his mission that we should be made knights. He has great influence with the Court, seeing that he has frequently supplied the royal needs with money. First let us visit our good friend Sir Robert Gaiton.”

The knight received them most warmly. “I heard from Van Voorden that you were going to Flanders with him. You are like to see stirring events, for Ghent has long been in insurrection against the Count of Flanders, and things are likely to come to a head erelong. Ah, and what do I see–gold spurs! Then the king has knighted you. That is well, indeed, and I congratulate you most heartily. I tell you that I felt some shame that I, who had not even drawn a sword, should have been knighted, while you two, who had fought like paladins, had not yet your spurs, and I was glad that I had an opportunity, down in Kent, of showing that I was not a mere carpet knight.”

“‘Tis for that affair that the king said he knighted us, Sir Robert,” Edgar said. “The other matters were private ventures, though against the king’s enemies; but that was a battle in the field, and the success put an end to rioting down there.”

“I shall not forget my promise about the knightly armour,” the merchant said, “but methinks that it were best to wait for a while. The armour the Fleming bought you is as good as could be made, but doubtless you will outgrow it, so it would be best for me to delay for two or three years. It is not likely that you will have much to do with courtly ceremonies before then, and when you get to twenty, by which time you will have your full height, if not your full width, I will furnish you with suits with which you could ride with Richard when surrounded by his proudest nobles and best knights.”

“We thank you, indeed, Sir Robert, and it would be much better so. The first shine is not off our armour at present, and it would be cumbrous to carry a second suit with us, therefore we would much rather that you postponed your gift.”

He now went with them into the ladies’ room. “Dame and daughter,” he said, “I have to present to you Sir Edgar Ormskirk and Sir Albert De Courcy, whom his Majesty has been pleased this morning to raise to the honour of knighthood, which has been well won by their own merits and bravery.”

The dame gave an exclamation of pleasure and her daughter clapped her hands.

“‘Tis well deserved, indeed,” the former exclaimed, “and I wish them all good fortune with their new dignity. How much we owe them, Robert.”

“That do we,” the merchant said, heartily.

“I am pleased,” the girl said, coming forward and frankly shaking hands with both.

“I can scarce credit our good fortune, Mistress Ursula,” Albert said. “‘Tis but a few months since I deemed that I was unfit for martial exercise, and that there was naught for me but to enter the Church, and now, thanks entirely to Edgar and to good luck, I am already a knight; ’tis well-nigh past belief. That meeting with you and your father was the beginning of our great fortune.”

“That was a terrible night,” the girl said, with a little shudder at the recollection. “Heaven surely sent you to our aid.”

While they were talking, Sir Robert said a word apart to his wife, and left the room. He presently returned with a small coffer, which he handed to her.

“It seems to me, young knights,” she said, “that your equipment is incomplete without a knightly chain. My husband, I know, is going to give you armour for war; it is for us to give you an ornament for Court. These are the work of Genoese goldsmiths, and I now, in the name of my daughter and myself, and as a small token of the gratitude that we owe you, bestow these upon you.”

So saying she placed round their necks two heavy gold chains of the finest workmanship. Both expressed their thanks in suitable terms.

“When do you sail?” the merchant asked Edgar.

“To-morrow morning,” he replied, “and the ship will unmoor at noon. We will come to say farewell to you in the morning.”

Mynheer Van Voorden and his family were no less delighted than Sir Robert Gaiton at the honour that had befallen them.

“Methinks, Mynheer,” Edgar said, “that ’tis to you that we in part owe the honour the king has bestowed on us, for he said that as you had a mission from him it would be well that we should have the rank of knighthood.”

“I may have said as much to the king,” Van Voorden admitted, “but it was not until Richard had himself said that he intended at the first opportunity to knight you both. On that I spoke, and pointed out that the presence of two English knights with me would add weight to my words. On which he gladly assented, saying that it had before been his intention to do so ere you left London, had not Sir Ralph said it would be better for you to earn it in the field; but as, since that time, you had fought in a stiff battle, and done good service to the realm by putting down the insurgents in Kent, who had been the foremost in the troubles here, he would do so at once.

“I think now that it were well you should each take a man-at-arms with you–a knight should not ride unattended. When we get across there I will hire two Flemings, who speak English, to ride with your men. You will need them to interpret for you, and they can aid your men to look after your horses and armour. If the two fellows here start at once for your homes, the others can be back in the morning.”

“One of them is the man I should take with me,” Edgar said. “I promised him that he should ride behind me as soon as occasion offered. He has no horse, but I doubt not that I shall be able to purchase one out there.”

“I will see to that,” Van Voorden said, “and to his armour. Do not trouble yourself about it in any way. And now about your man, Sir Albert?”

“I will ask my father to choose a good fellow for me, and one who has armour and a horse.”

“Then it were best to lose no time. There is pen and parchment on that table. Doubtless you will both wish to write to tell your fathers of the honour that the king has bestowed upon you.”

Both at once sat down and wrote a short letter. Edgar, after telling his father that he had been knighted, said:

“_Mynheer Van Voorden says it will be as well if we each take a man-at- arms with us, so I shall, with your permission, take Hal Carter, as I had arranged with you to do so when I went to the wars. He is a stout fellow, and will, I am sure, be a faithful one. I hope that you will find no difficulty in replacing him._”

Sir Ralph himself arrived at the house the next morning. “I could not let you go without coming to congratulate you both on the honour that has befallen you. It might have been well that it should have come a little later, but doubtless it will be of advantage to you in Flanders, and should there be fighting between Ghent and the earl you will be more free to choose your own place in battle, and to perform such journeys and adventures as may seem good to you as knights, than you would be as private gentlemen, or esquires, following no leader, and having no rank or standing save that of gentlemen who have come over as friends of Mynheer Van Voorden.

“Your mother is greatly pleased, and as for Aline, she would fain have ridden hither with me, but as I intend to return this afternoon, and as she saw you both but two days since, I thought it best that she should stay at home. I have brought up with me John Lance. I thought that he was the one who would suit you best. In some respects the other is the more experienced and might be of more value were you going on a campaign, but he is somewhat given to the ale-jug, so I thought it best to bring Lance, who is a stout fellow, and can wield his sword well. He is civil and well- spoken, and as I have told him he is to obey your orders just the same as if they were mine, I believe that you will have little trouble with him. His arms and armour are in good condition, and he has been furnished with a fresh suit out of the chest.

“I saw your father, Edgar, late yesterday evening. I myself took over your letter to him. He said that whatever a man’s calling may be, it is well that he should go into it with all his heart, and that since you have taken to arms, it is well indeed that you should so soon have distinguished yourself as to be deemed worthy of knighthood. He said that he would get another to take the place of the man you keep with you, and he wishes you God-speed in Flanders.”

At eleven o’clock, Van Voorden, his wife and daughter, mounted, together with Edgar, Albert, and their two men-at-arms; both the latter were in body armour, with steel caps; the Fleming had secured a strong and serviceable horse for Hal. His own servants had gone on an hour before with three carts carrying the baggage; Sir Ralph accompanied them across London Bridge to Rotherhithe, where the barque was lying alongside a wharf. The horses were first taken on board, and placed in stalls on deck. These Van Voorden had had erected so that the horses should suffer no injury in case they encountered rough weather. As soon as the animals were secured in their places, Sir Ralph said good-bye to them all, the hawsers were thrown off, and the vessel dropped out into the tide, the baggage having been lowered into the hold before they came down.

There were no other passengers, the Fleming having secured all the accommodation for his party. There were two small cabins in the stern, one of which was set apart for the merchant’s wife and daughter, the other for their two maids. The cabin where they sat and took their meals was used by the merchant and the two young knights as a sleeping-place. The Fleming’s four men-servants and the two men-at-arms slept in a portion of the hold under the stern cabins. The wind was favourable, and although speed was not the strong point of the ship, she made a quick passage, and forty- eight hours after starting they entered the port of Sluys.

“Will you tell us, Mynheer,” Edgar said, as they sailed quietly down the Thames, “how it comes about that Ghent is at war with the Earl of Flanders, for it is well that we should have some knowledge of the matter before we get into the midst of it.”

“‘Tis well, indeed, that it should be so, Edgar. The matter began in a quarrel between two men, John Lyon and Gilbert Mahew. Lyon was a crafty and politic man, and was held in great favour by the earl. There was a citizen who had seriously displeased Louis, and at his request John Lyon made a quarrel with him and killed him. The matter caused great anger among the burgesses, and Lyon had to leave the city, and went and dwelt at Douay, living in great state there for three years, at the earl’s expense. At the end of that time the earl used all the influence he possessed at Ghent, and obtained a pardon for Lyon, and the restoration of his property, that had been forfeited for his crime, and, moreover, made him chief ruler of all the ships and mariners.

“This caused great displeasure to many, not only in Ghent but in all Flanders. Mahew, who, with his seven brothers, was the leading man among the mariners, and between whose family and that of Lyon there was a long- standing feud, went presently to the earl and told him that if things were properly managed and certain taxes put on the shipping, the earl would derive a large annual sum from it, and the earl directed Lyon to carry this out. But owing to the general opposition among the mariners, which was craftily managed by Mahew’s brothers, Lyon was unable to carry the earl’s orders into effect. Gilbert Mahew then went to the earl and said that if he were appointed in Lyon’s place he would carry the thing out. This was done, and Mahew. from his influence with the mariners, and by giving many presents to persons at the earl’s Court, gained high favour, and used his power to injure Lyon.

“The latter, however, kept quiet, and bided his time. This came when the people of Bruges, who had long desired to make a canal–which would take away most of the water of the river Lys for their benefit–but who had never been able to do so, owing to the opposition offered by Ghent, now set a great number of men upon this work. This caused a great agitation in Ghent, especially among mariners, who feared that if the river Lys were lowered their shipping trade would be much injured. Then people began to say that if Lyon had remained their governor in Ghent the people of Bruges would never have ventured on such action. Many of them went secretly to Lyon to sound him on the matter. He advised them that they had best revive the old custom of wearing white hoods, and that they should then choose a governor whom they would obey.

“In a few days a great number of white hoods appeared in the streets, and a popular meeting was held. John Lyon was elected leader, and with two hundred companies marched from Ghent to attack the pioneers digging the channel. These, on hearing that a great force from Ghent was marching against them, hastily retired. John Lyon and his force returned home, and the former again resumed his position as a quiet trader. The White Hoods, however, dominated the town. In a short time some of them demanded that a mariner, who was a burgess of Ghent, and who was confined in the earl’s prison at Eccloo, should be liberated, as, according to the franchise of the city, no burgess could be tried save by its Courts.

“This trouble Lyon carefully fostered, and as the new and heavy dues injured the trade of Ghent, his party increased rapidly. In public, however, he always spoke moderately, remaining quietly in his house, and never going out except with an escort of two or three hundred of the White Hoods. An embassy was sent to the earl to ask that the rights of the city should be respected. The earl answered them mildly, ordered the prisoner to be given up to them, and promised to respect the franchise of the city, but at the same time asked that the wearing of white hoods should be discontinued. Lyon, however, persuaded the White Hoods not to accede to this request, saying that it was the White Hoods that had wrung those concessions from the earl, and that if they disappeared from the streets, the franchise would be speedily abolished.

“In this Lyon was right, and he at once set to work to organize the White Hoods, dividing them into companies, and appointing a captain to each hundred men; a lieutenant to fifty; and a sub-officer to ten. In a short time the Bailie of Ghent, with two hundred horse, rode into the city, the earl having agreed with Gilbert Mahew that John Lyon and several other leaders should be carried off and beheaded. As soon as the bailie arrived at the market-place he was joined by the Mahews and their adherents. The White Hoods at once gathered at John Lyon’s house, and he set out for the market-house with four hundred men. These were joined by many others as they went. As soon as they appeared, the Mahews, with their party, fled. Then the White Hoods rushed upon the bailie, unhorsed and slew him, and tore the earl’s banner to pieces. His men-at-arms, seeing how strong and furious were the townsmen, at once turned their horses and rode away.

“A search was then made for the Mahews, but they had fled from the town and ridden away to join the earl. Their houses were all sacked and destroyed. The White Hoods were now undisturbed masters of the place; most of the rich burgesses, however, were much grieved at what had taken place. A great council was held, and twelve of their number went to the earl to beg for pardon for the town. The earl received them sternly, but at their humble prayer promised to spare the city and to punish only the chief offenders. While they were away, however, Lyon called an assembly of the citizens in a field outside the town. Ten thousand armed men gathered there, and they at once sacked and burnt the palace of Andrehon, which was the earl’s favourite residence, and a very stately pile.

“The earl, on hearing the news, called the burgesses, who were still with him, and sent them back to Ghent with a message to the town that they should have neither peace nor treaty until he had struck off the heads of all those whom he chose. John Lyon began the war by marching to Bruges, which, being wholly unprepared, was forced to admit him and his men, and to agree to an alliance with Ghent. He then marched to Damme, where he was taken ill, and died, not without strong suspicion of having been poisoned. The people of Ghent sent a strong force to Ypres. The knights and men-at- arms of the garrison refused to admit them, but the craftsmen of the town rose in favour of Ghent, slew five of the knights, and opened the gates. The men of the allied cities then tried to attack Tormonde, where the earl was, but were unable to take it; they afterwards besieged Oudenarde. The Duke of Burgundy, however, interposed, and peace was agreed upon, on condition that the earl should pardon all and come to live in Ghent. The earl kept his promise so far as to go there, but he only stayed four days and then left the town.

“The peace was of very short continuance, for some relations of the bailie and some other knights took forty ships on the river, put out the eyes of the sailors, and sent them into Ghent, in return for which a strong body marched out from Ghent, surprised Oudenarde, and stayed there a month, during which time they hewed down the gates and made a breach in the walls by destroying two towers. After the men of Ghent had left Oudenarde the earl went there and repaired the damage they had done, and then marched to Ypres and beheaded many of those who had risen against him, and had slain his knights. In the meantime Ghent prepared for the war by sacking and destroying all the houses of the gentry in the country round the city.

“Several battles were fought, and in these the White Hoods had the worst of it, for although they fought stoutly they were greatly outnumbered. Bruges and Damme opened their gates to the earl, and Ghent was left without an ally. Then Peter De Bois, who was now the chief of the White Hoods, seeing that many of the townsmen were sorely discouraged by their want of success, went to Philip Van Artevelde (the son of Jacob Van Artevelde, who was murdered by the townsfolk for making an alliance with England) and persuaded him to come forward as the leader of the people. On his doing so Philip was at once accepted by the White Hoods. Two of the leaders of the party of peace were at once murdered. As his father had been a great man and an excellent ruler, Philip was joyfully accepted by the whole population, and was given almost arbitrary power.

“Since that time,” went on Van Voorden, “Ghent has been straitly besieged, and had it not been that they sent out a strong force, who bought large supplies at Brussels and at Liege, and managed to convey them back to the city, most of the inhabitants would have died from hunger.

“So matters stand at present. The mission with which I am charged at present is to see Van Artevelde, and to find out whether he, like his father Jacob, is well disposed towards the English, and if so, to promise that some aid shall be sent to him.”

“And what are your own thoughts on the matter, Mynheer?”

“As to Ghent, I say nothing,” the merchant replied. “The population have ever been rough and turbulent, swayed by agitators, and tyrannized over by the craftsmen; but I can well see that it is for the interest of England that Ghent should be upheld, for these troubles in Flanders greatly disturb both the Duke of Burgundy and the King of France, whose interests never run together. Again, I see that the independence of Ghent, Bruges, and other large towns is for the good of Flanders, since were it not for that, the country would be but an appanage of Burgundy or France. Heavy imposts would be laid upon the people, their franchises abolished, and the trade greatly injured; and it would therefore be a sore misfortune for the country were the Earl of Flanders to crush Ghent, for did he do so he could work his will in all the other towns.

“These, you see, are something like your city of London; they exist and flourish owing to the rights they have gained. They curbed the power of the nobles, and have built up great wealth and power for themselves. Their merchants have the revenues of princes, and carry on a great trade with all countries. You see how readily the earl fell in with Mahew’s suggestion, and laid heavy taxes on the shipping of Ghent. In the same way, were he supreme master, he and his lords could similarly tax the trade of other towns of Flanders, to the great benefit of the merchants of foreign countries. Thus, you see, as a Fleming I should wish to see Ghent –although I love not the turbulent town–preserved from the destruction that would surely fall upon it were the earl to capture it. Why, at Ypres, not only did he kill many thousands of the citizens in an ambush, but when he entered the town, he beheaded well-nigh six hundred of the citizens. If he did that at Ypres, which had offended comparatively little, what would he do to Ghent, which has killed his bailie, sacked and burned his palace, defied his authority, and holds out against all his force?”

“Thank you very much, Mynheer; I knew but little of the matter before, and I am glad to be so thoroughly informed in it. I see it is the same there as it was in London when the rioters came thither; the better class were overborne by the baser. Had it not been for the death of Wat the Tyler, and the dispersal of his rabble, it is likely that every trader’s house in London would have been pillaged and all the better class murdered, as were the Flemings.”

As soon as the vessel drew alongside the wharf at Sluys, a Flemish trader came on board. He was a correspondent of Van Voorden’s, and to him the merchant had written, asking him to secure lodgings for him and his party for a day or two. Van Voorden was well known to him, for the merchant had occasion to cross to Flanders three or four times every year, and his correspondent often came over to London. After greeting the merchant, his wife and daughter, he said:

“I was in much fear for you, Van Voorden, when I heard the reports of the wild doings of the rabble in London, and how they specially directed their fury against our people, and killed very many worthy merchants. You have said in your letters to me that you had been in some danger, but that, as you would see me shortly, you would not write at length.”

“I will tell you of it anon, Rochter. First, how about the lodging?”

“As to that, there is no difficulty. It would be strange indeed were you to go elsewhere than to my house, which you have always used hitherto when you passed through.”

“Yes: when I was alone. Now I have my wife and daughter, and these two young English knights, to say nothing of the maids and the men-at-arms.”

“We can take them all without difficulty. As you know, the house is a large one, and there are but my wife and myself and my daughter Marie. There is the room you always occupy for yourself and madame, a bed has been put up in Marie’s room for your daughter, the large room over it will be allotted to these gentlemen, your maids can sleep with ours, and there is a large room in the attic for your servants and the knights’ men.”

“So be it,” Van Voorden said, “and it will be far more pleasant to be with you and your good wife than in a strange place. How about the horses, of which we have six?”

“The accommodation I have for them is small, but I have arranged with a friend for the disposal of the horses in his stables, which are commodious, and of which he makes but little use.”

The house of Mynheer Rochter surprised the young knights by its size. It was massively and strongly built, and apparently there was no pressure for room, as was the case in the busy streets of London. The hall was of great size, panelled with a dark wood, and with a flooring so smooth and polished that both knights narrowly escaped falling, on stepping on it for the first time. A great staircase led to the family apartments upstairs. The main room would have held four of either those of Van Voorden or Sir Robert Gaiton in London, and the rest of the house was on the same scale. All was dark, massive, and rich, with an air of great comfort. The furniture and floors were polished until they reflected the light from the casements, and heavy rugs and carpets were stretched in front of the fire- places and windows, and at other points where the family were accustomed to sit.

There were heavy curtains to the windows, and others before the doors, so that all draught should be cut off. Although not so handsome as the rooms of the two merchants in London, everything was so substantial, well kept, and comfortable, that the two friends were greatly struck by it. It was now October, and great wood fires blazed in the hall below and in all the upstairs rooms, and these quite dispelled any air of gloom that might otherwise have been caused by the darkness of the furniture.

“Truly, Edgar,” Albert said, in a low tone, while the ladies were talking together, “I think that I shall change my vocation once again, abandon the cutting of throats, and establish myself as a Flemish merchant.”

“It would be years before you could acquire the necessary knowledge,” Edgar laughed, “to say nothing of the capital required for the business; but truly the comfort of this house is wonderful, and it is clear to me that, although we Englishmen have learned to fight, we are mightily behind others in the art of making our lives comfortable.”

Before the meal was served the friends went upstairs to their room, took off the rough clothes in which they had travelled, and apparelled themselves in the plainest of their two suits. When dinner was announced they went into a room leading from that in which they had before been. As the numbers were equal, the four gentlemen each offered his hand to a lady, and led her to the table. It was almost dark now, and the room was lighted with many wax candles, which were novelties to the young knights. Tallow candles had indeed come into partial use at the beginning of the century, but they had never seen wax used, save on occasions of great ceremony in the churches. It was now for the first time that Frau Rochter obtained a fair view of the faces of her guests.

“You are young indeed, gentlemen, are you not, to have attained the rank of knighthood?” she said; “but I believe that in England ’tis a title that goes with the land.”

“It is so,” Van Voorden said, before either of the young knights could reply; “but in this case it has been won by distinguished bravery, for which King Richard himself bestowed knighthood upon them. No one can testify to their bravery more strongly than ourselves, for it was thanks alone to them that my life certainly, and probably those of my wife and daughter, were preserved on that evil day in London,” and as the meal proceeded he gave a full narrative of the manner in which they had defended his house while his wife was removed from her sick-bed and carried down to the hiding-place below. “It was not only for this single act of bravery that they received knighthood. Young though they are, they saved the life of a worshipful London citizen–who has since himself become a knight–when he had fallen into the hands of a party of robbers. When the Tower was in the hands of the rioters, they, without assistance, killed seven men who had entered the ladies’ chamber; and, lastly, they rode, with two knights and fifty men-at-arms, at a mob consisting of some two thousand of the worst of the rebels, and entirely defeated them with the loss of five hundred, and it was for this last act that they were knighted.”

“Mynheer Van Voorden omits to say,” Edgar added, “that it was largely to his own good offices that we owe the honour.”

“I said nothing to the king but what was true and just,” the merchant replied; “and he told me that he had already determined to promote you on the first opportunity; indeed, even had I not spoken I believe that he would have done so before we left London.”

“I am sure that they deserved it if it had only been for what they did for us,” his daughter said, warmly. “Several times, while you were getting mother down the stairs, I ran out to the landing and looked down at the fight. It was terrible to see all the fierce faces, and the blows that were struck with pole-axe and halbert, and a marvel that two young men should so firmly hold their ground against such odds.”

“We all owe them our lives assuredly,” Madame Van Voorden said. “Had it not been for them, undoubtedly I should have died that day. I was very near to death as it was, and had I seen my husband slaughtered before my eyes, it would have needed no blow of knife to have finished me.”

CHAPTER XIII

A STARVING TOWN

Many of the leading citizens, hearing of Van Voorden’s arrival, called in the course of the evening. The conversation, of course, turned upon the state of public affairs in Flanders; and Van Voorden inquired particularly as to the feeling in Bruges, and the sides taken by leading citizens there.

“That is difficult to say,” one of the merchants replied. “Bruges has always been a rival to Ghent, and there has been little good-will between the cities. The lower class are undoubtedly in favour of Ghent; but among the traders and principal families the feeling is the other way. Were Ghent in a position to head a national movement with a fair chance of success, no doubt Bruges would go with her, for she would fear that, should it be successful, she would suffer from the domination of Ghent. At present, however, the latter is in a strait, the rivers are blockaded by the earl’s ships, and the town is sorely pressed by famine. After the vengeance taken by the earl on the places that, at the commencement of the trouble, threw in their lot with Ghent, she can expect no aid until she shows herself capable of again defeating the prince’s army.”

“Of course, at present I know but little how matters stand,” Van Voorden said. “I have been so long settled in England that I have hardly kept myself informed of affairs here. I am thinking now of making Flanders my home again, but I would not do so if the land is like to be torn by civil war; I shall, therefore, make it my business to sojourn for a time in many of the large towns, and so to learn the general feeling throughout the country towards the earl, and to find out what prospect there is of the present trouble coming to a speedy end. France, Burgundy, or even England may interfere in the matter if they see a prospect of gain by it, and in that case the fighting might become general.”

“Is the feeling of England in favour of Ghent?” one of the burghers asked, anxiously.

“So far I have heard but little on the matter. The English have had troubles of their own, and have had but little time to cast their eyes abroad. Nevertheless, if the struggle continues, they may remember that a Van Artevelde was their stout ally, and that Ghent, after his murder, again submitted itself to them. There is, too, the bond of sympathy that Flanders accepts the same pope as England, and that in aiding her they aid the pope’s cause, and strike a blow at France, with whom they are always at daggers drawn. Therefore, methinks more unlikely things have happened than that; if France gives aid to the earl, the English may strike in for Ghent.”

“I trust not,” one of the burghers said, earnestly, “for Sluys might well be the landing point for an English expedition, and then the first brunt of the war would fall upon us.”

“I say not that there is much chance of such a thing,” Van Voorden said; “I was but mentioning the complication that might arise if Ghent is able to prolong the struggle.”

On the following morning the party started from Sluys. They made a good show, for Van Voorden had the evening before engaged two mounted men, well-armed, to ride with the young knights as men-at-arms. Behind the merchant and his party came the two maids and the four retainers who had accompanied them from England. These carried swords and daggers, but no defensive armour. Behind were the two English men-at-arms and the two freshly taken on, all wearing breast-and back-pieces and steel caps. They tarried but a day or two at Bruges, Van Voorden finding that among the burgesses the trade animosity against Ghent overpowered any feeling of patriotism, and moreover it was felt that the success of that town would give such encouragement to the democracy elsewhere that every city would become the scene of riot and civil strife.

They learnt that, unless they fell in with one of the parties that was stationed to prevent strong forces of foragers issuing from Ghent to drive in cattle, they would find no difficulty in entering the town, for the citizens had shown themselves such stout fighters, that the earl, believing that the city must fall by famine, had drawn off the greater portion of his army. Travelling by easy stages, the party approached the town on the second evening. Soon after they started that morning they came upon a body of the troops of the Earl of Flanders. The officer in command rode up to the merchant and asked him for his name and his object in going to Ghent, and also who were the two knights with him. As soon as Van Voorden mentioned his name, and said that he had for many years been established in London, the officer at once recognized it.

“I am well acquainted with your name as one of the foremost among our countrymen at King Richard’s Court, and that you have several times acted as our representative when complaints have been made of injury to Flemish traders by English adventurers, but I must still ask, what do you propose doing at Ghent?”

“I am over here for a time with my wife and daughter, and am paying visits to friends and business correspondents in the various towns, and it may be that if these troubles come to an end I may retire from business altogether and settle down here. These knights have done me a signal service, having saved the lives of myself and daughter during the riots in London; therefore I have asked of them the courtesy to ride with me through Flanders. Having a desire to visit foreign countries, they accepted my invitation.”

“Adieu, then, Master Van Voorden. I know that you are a man of influence among the merchants, and trust that you will do your best to persuade the stiff-necked burghers of Ghent to submit themselves to their lord.”

“Methinks, from what I hear,” the merchant replied, “that if it depended upon the burgesses and traders there would be a speedy end to these troubles, but they are overborne by the demagogues of the craftsmen.”

“That is true enough,” the officer replied. “Numbers of the richer burgesses have long since left Ghent, and many have established themselves in trade in other cities where there was better chance of doing their business in peace and quiet.”

The party now rode on, and without further interruption arrived at Ghent. They put up for the night at a hostelry, but in the morning the merchant had no difficulty in hiring the use of a house for a month, for many of the better class houses were standing empty. Then he called on several of the leading burgesses, some of whom were known to him personally, and had long and earnest talk with them upon the situation.

Late in the afternoon he sent a letter to Philip Van Artevelde, saying that he had just arrived from England, and would be glad to have a private parley with him. An answer was received from Van Artevelde saying that he would call that evening upon him, as it would be more easy to have quiet speech together there than if he visited him at his official residence. At eight o’clock Van Artevelde arrived. He was wrapped in a cloak, and gave no name, simply saying to the retainer who opened the door that he was there by appointment with his master. Van Voorden received him alone. They had met on two or three occasions previously, and saluted each other cordially.

“I think it best that we should meet quietly,” the merchant said, as they shook hands. “I know the Ghentois, how greedily they swallow every rumour, how they magnify the smallest things, and how they rage if their desires are not gratified, and give themselves wholly up to the demagogues. ‘Tis for that reason that I think it well that you have come to see me privately.

“I have no official mission to you, but I am charged by King Richard, or rather by his council–when they heard that I was coming over here on my private affairs–to find out in the first place how things really stand here; and secondly, to learn your own opinion and thoughts on the matters in hand.”

By this time they had seated themselves by the fire.

“The position is grievous enough in that we are straitened for food,” was the reply; “indeed, although we have of late been fortunate in obtaining supplies, the pressure cannot be borne. Of one thing you may be sure, Ghent will not tamely be starved out. If we cannot obtain fair terms, every man will arm himself and sally out, and, it need be, we will sweep the whole country clear of its flocks and herds, and bring in such stores as we want from all quarters, carrying our arms to the gates of Brussels and Malines in one direction, to Lisle in another, and to Ypres and Dixmuide south of the Lys. Earl though he be, Louis cannot bar every road to us, nor forever keep up a force sufficient to withstand us. Already the feudal lords have kept their levies under arms far beyond the time they have a right to require them, but this cannot go on. War costs us no more than peace, and whenever we will we can march with 20,000 men in any direction that may please us. As to defending ourselves against assault, I have no fear whatever. Thus, then, so long as Ghent chooses she can maintain the war.” He put an emphasis on the last words.

“That means, I take it,” the merchant said, “as long as the people are willing to go on fasting.”

“That is so. There is a sore pinch; food is distributed gratuitously; for, as all trade is stopped, there is little work to be had. So long as they could live in idleness, obtain enough food, and a small sum paid daily, there were no signs of discontent; and there is still plenty of money in the coffers, for the goods and estates of many who have fled, and who are known to be favourable to the earl, have been confiscated, but money cannot provide food. Thus, it seems to me that, save for the lack of food, matters could go on as at present. But if fair terms cannot be obtained, the people will demand to be led against their enemy. We shall lead them, but what will come after that I cannot say.

“As you doubtless know, I am here by no choice of my own. I had naught to do with the rising of Ghent, or what has been done hitherto, but when Lyon died and the leaders who succeeded him were killed, they sent to me to be their governor. For a time I refused, but I was overborne. I was living quietly and peaceably on my estates, with no love for strife; but it was pointed out that I alone could unite the factions, that many of the better classes of citizens, who held aloof from the demagogues of the streets, would feel confidence in me, that my name would carry weight, and that other cities might make alliance with me when they would have naught to say to butchers and skinners and such like, and that possibly the earl would be more likely to grant terms to me than to those whom he considers as the rabble. I took up the position reluctantly, but, having taken it up, I shall not lay it down. Like enough it will cost me my life, as it cost the life of Jacob Van Artevelde before me, but it may be that aid will come from some unexpected quarter.”

“That is the next point. Do you look for aid from France?”

“France is never to be relied upon,” Artevelde replied, gloomily. “The Valois has, of course, made us vague promises, but all he cares for is that the war should go on, so that, if he and Burgundy come to blows, Flanders can give no aid to the duke. I have no hope in that quarter. Of late, however, Burgundy and Berry have prevailed in his councils, and we hear that he has decided to join the duke against us. We have sent, as doubtless you know, to the King of England, to ask him to ally himself with us.”

“‘Tis concerning that matter he has charged me. It was known when I left England that Burgundy had promised his aid to the earl, but naught was known of France joining in. The king is well disposed towards you, but his council hold that, so long as Ghent stands alone, England can make no alliance with her, for she would have to fight, not only Burgundy and France, but the rest of Flanders. But if Ghent makes herself master of Flanders, England will gladly ally herself with you, and will send troops and money.”

“‘Tis reasonable,” Artevelde said, “and we will bestir ourselves. I myself have done all that is possible to obtain peace, and in three days I am going, with twelve of the principal citizens, to Bruges, where the earl arrived yesterday. We shall offer to submit ourselves to his mercy if he will have pity on the city. If he demands the entire mastership we shall fight in earnest. If he will content himself with taking our lives, we are ready to give them for the sake of the city. We know that we have a strong body of friends in every town, and should it come to blows, methinks it is not improbable that all Flanders will join, and if we are supported by England, we may well hope to withstand both France and Burgundy.”

“I have two young English knights with me, Van Artevelde; they are young, but have already shown themselves capable of deeds of the greatest bravery. During the late riots in London they defended my house against a mob many hundreds strong, and so gave time for myself, my wife, and daughter to gain a place of hiding; they did many other brave feats, and so distinguished themselves that, though very young, the king has knighted them. I invited them to accompany me hither, in order that they might see service, and I would fain commend them greatly to you. The fact that they are English knights would be of advantage to you, seeing that it will, in the eyes of the people, be taken as a proof that the sympathy of England is with us, and should there be fighting, or any occasion for the use of brave men, you can rely upon them to do their utmost.”

“I will gladly accept their services, Van Voorden, and, as you say, the people will certainly draw a good augury from their presence.”

The merchant left the room, and returned in a minute with the two young knights.

“These are the gentlemen of whom I have spoken to you, Van Artevelde,” he said, “Sir Edgar Ormskirk and Sir Albert De Courcy, both very valiant gentlemen, and high in the esteem of King Richard.”

“I greet you gladly, sir knights,” Van Artevelde said, “both for your own sakes and for that of Mynheer Van Voorden, my worthy friend, who has presented you, and right glad shall I be if you will aid us in this sore strait into which we have fallen.”

“I fear that our aid will not be of much avail to you, sir,” Edgar said, “but such service as we can render we will right willingly give. I shall be glad to see service for the first time under one bearing the name of the great man who lost his life because he was so firm an ally of England.”

“At present, gentlemen, things have not come to a crisis here, and for a few days I must ask your patience; by that time we shall know how matters are to go. If it be war, gladly, indeed, will I have you ride with me in the field.”

Two days later Philip Van Artevelde rode away with the twelve citizens, who, like himself, went to offer their lives for the sake of the city. The scene was an affecting one, and crowds of haggard men and half-starved women filled the streets. Most of them were in tears, and all prayed aloud that Heaven would soften the earl’s heart and suffer them to come back unharmed to the city. Three days later they returned. As they rode through the streets all could see that their news was bad, and that they had returned because the earl had refused to accept them as sacrifices for the rest. An enormous crowd gathered in front of the town-hall, and in a few minutes Van Artevelde and his companions appeared on the balcony.

There was a dead hush among the multitude. They felt that life or death hung on his words. He told them that the count had refused altogether to accept twelve lives as ransom for the city, and that he would give no terms save that he would become its master and would execute all such as were found to have taken part in the rebellion against him.

A despairing moan rose from the square below.

“Fellow citizens,” Van Artevelde went on, “there is now but one of two things for us to do. The one is to shut our gates, retire to our houses, and there die either by famine or by such other means as each may choose. The other way is, that every man capable of bearing arms shall muster, that we shall march to Bruges, and there either perish under the lances of his knights, or conquer and drive him headlong from the land. Which choose ye, my friends?”

A mighty shout arose: “We will fight!”

“You have chosen well,” Van Artevelde said. “Have we not before now defeated forces of men-at-arms superior in numbers to ourselves? Are we less brave than our fathers? Shall we not fight as stoutly when we know that we leave famishing wives and children behind who look to us to bring them back food? Return to your homes! A double ration of bread shall be served out from the magazines to all. Two hours before daybreak we will muster in our companies, and an hour later start for Bruges.”

Among those who shouted loudest, “We will fight!” were the two young knights. They had, as soon as it was known that Van Artevelde and his party had entered the town, gone with Van Voorden to the house of a friend of his in the great square. They heard with indignation the refusal of the Earl of Flanders to accept the noble sacrifice offered by the twelve burgesses, who had followed the example of the Governor of Calais and its leading citizens in offering their lives as a sacrifice for the rest. They had met, however, with a less generous foe, whose terms would, if accepted, have placed the life and property of every citizen of Ghent at his mercy. What that was likely to be had been shown at Ypres. Now the young knights felt indeed that the cause was a righteous one, and that they could draw their swords for Ghent with the conviction that by so doing they were fighting to save its people from massacre.

“By heavens!” Van Voorden exclaimed, “were I but younger I too would go out with the Ghentois to battle. I care but little myself as to the rights of the quarrel, though methinks that Ghent is right in resisting the oppressive taxes which, contrary to their franchise, the earl has laid on the city. But that is nothing. One has but to look upon the faces of the crowd to feel one’s blood boil at the strait to which their lord, instead of fighting them boldly, has, like a coward, reduced them by famine. But now when I hear that he has refused the prayer for mercy, refused to stay his vengeance, or to content himself with the heads of the noblest of the citizens offered to him, but instead would deluge the streets with blood, I would march with them as to a crusade. I will presently see Van Artevelde if but for a moment, tell him that you will ride with him, and ask where you shall take your station.”

Late that evening Van Voorden returned. “I have been present at the council,” he said. “The gates will not be open to-morrow, but on Thursday five thousand men will set out early.”

“But five thousand is a small number,” Edgar said, “to march against Bruges, a city as large as this, and having there the earl, and no doubt a strong body of his own troops.”

“That is true; but most of the men are so weakened that it is thought that it will be best to take but a small number of the strongest and most capable. They will carry with them the three hundred hand guns. What little provision there is must be divided; half will go with those who march, the other half will be kept for those here to sustain life until news comes how matters have fared in the field.”

“But with only five thousand men, without machines for the siege, they can never hope to storm the walls of Bruges. It would be a feat that as many veteran soldiers might well hesitate to undertake.”

“They have no thought of doing so. It has been agreed that this would be impossible, but the force will camp near the city, and seeing the smallness of their number, the people of Bruges will surely sally out and attack them. Then they will do their best for victory, and if they beat the enemy our men will follow on their rear hotly and enter the city.”

“‘Tis a bold plan,” Edgar said; “but at least there seems some hope of success, which no other plan, methinks, could give. At any rate we two will do our best, and being well fed and well armed may hope to be able to cut our way out of the _mêlée_ if all should be lost. We fight for honour and from good-will. But this is not a case in which we would die rather than turn bridle, as it would be were we fighting under the banner of England and the command of the king.”

“Quite so, Edgar; I agree with you entirely,” the merchant said. “You have not come to this country to die in the defence of Ghent. You came hither to do, if occasion offers, some knightly deeds, and feeling pity for the starving people here you offer them knightly aid, and will fight for them as long as there is a chance that fighting may avail them, but beyond that it would be folly indeed to go; and when you see the day hopelessly lost, you and your men-at-arms may well try to make your way out of the crowd of combatants, and to ride whither you will. I say not to return here, for that would indeed be an act of folly, since Ghent will have to surrender at once, and without conditions, as soon as the news comes that the battle is lost. Therefore your best plan would be to ride for Sluys, and there take ship again. As for me, I shall wait until news comes and then ride for Liege, and remain there with friends quietly until we see what the upshot of the affair is likely to be.”

During the day preparations were made for the expedition. Five thousand of those best able to carry arms were chosen, but the store of provisions was so small that there were but five cartloads of biscuit and two tuns of wine for those who went, and a like quantity for the sustenance of those who stayed. The young knights were to ride in the train of Van Artevelde himself. In the morning the merchant had asked them what colours they would wear, for, so far, they had not provided themselves with scarves.

“You should have scarves, and knightly plumes also,” he said, “and, if you carry lances, pennons; but as you say that you shall fight with sword, that matter can stand over. Tell me what colours you choose, and I will see that you have them.”

Albert answered that he should carry his father’s colours, namely, a red sash, and red and blue plumes. Edgar replied that he had never thought about it, but that he would choose white and red plumes, and a scarf of the same colour. These the merchant purchased in the afternoon, and his wife and daughter fastened the plumes in their helmets. At the appointed hour in the morning they clad themselves in full armour, and when they went down they found the merchant’s wife and daughter were already afoot, and these fastened the scarves over their shoulders. On going down to the courtyard they found, to their surprise, that their two horses both carried armour on the chest, body, and head.

“It is right that you should go to battle in knightly fashion,” the merchant said, “and I have provided you with what is necessary. Indeed, that is no more than is due. I brought you out here, and involved you in this business, and ’tis but right that I should see that you are protected as far as may be from harm.”

The reins were supplemented by steel chains, so that the riders should not be left powerless were the leather cut by a sweeping blow. When they mounted, the merchant himself went with them to the spot where Van Artevelde’s following were to assemble. The two men-at-arms, in high spirits at the thought of a fight, rode behind them, together with the two Van Voorden had engaged at Sluys, both of whom were able to speak a certain amount of English.

“If you are unhorsed, comrade,” one of them said to Hal Carter, “and in an extremity, remember that the cry for mercy is ‘_Misericorde_.'”

“By my faith,” Hal replied, “’tis little likely that they will get that cry from me; as long as I can fight I will fight, when I can fight no longer they can slay me. Still, it is as well that I should know the word, as I should not like to kill any poor wretch who asks for quarter.”

They found Van Artevelde already at the place of assembly. He greeted the young knights most cordially.

“Your presence here,” he said, “will be invaluable to me. The word will soon go round to our host that you are English knights, and it will be held as a token that England is with us.”

They waited half an hour, and then Van Voorden bade them adieu, as the cavalcade moved forward. Already the greater part of the armed men had moved out from the city, each band having assembled in its own quarter, and moved through the gates as soon as its number was complete. The instructions had been that each company, as it issued from the gates, was to follow the road to Bruges, and as soon as the sun rose it was to halt, when they were all to form up and move in order. Van Artevelde introduced the young knights to many of those who rode with him, as having lately arrived from England, and as being willing to take part in a battle for so good a cause.

The road was broad and wide, but the cavalcade rode in single file, so as to pass without difficulty the masses of marching men. Just as the sun rose they reached the head of the column. A halt was called; the country was flat, and the companies were now formed on a front half a mile wide, so that they could march at once faster and in an orderly body, as it was possible that some spy might have sent the news of their coming to Bruges, and they might be attacked on their way. There were no horses, save those of Van Artevelde and his immediate followers, the seven carts being dragged by men. As the march proceeded, Edgar and Albert requested Van Artevelde to give them leave to ride with their four men across the country, and to take with them a score of the most active foot-men.

“It will be hard,” they said, “if we cannot come across a few cattle, sheep, or horses, or some sacks of flour, which would mightily help us. If we keep ahead of the main body we may, too, come by surprise on some of the farm-houses, and shall be able to send back news to you should there be any armed force approaching.”

“By all means do so, and thanks for the offer.”

Artevelde gave orders at once that twenty men of the company next to him should proceed as rapidly as they could ahead with the English knights, and should hold themselves under their command.

“We will go on, good fellows,” Edgar said to them; “if we meet with a force too strong for us we shall ride back, but if we can capture aught in the way of food we will wait until you come up and leave it in your charge to hold until the others arrive.”

Riding on fast the friends were soon two miles ahead of the main body. The villages on the road were found to be completely deserted, the people having removed weeks before; for lying, as they did, between the rival cities, they were likely to suffer at the hands of both. The party soon turned off and made across the country. Here and there a few animals could be seen over the flat expanse. Presently they came upon a mill; the water of the canal that turned its wheel was running to waste, and the place was evidently deserted.

“Hew down the door, Hal,” Edgar said to his follower.

“That will I right willingly, my lord, for, in truth, I begin to feel well-nigh as hungry as those of Ghent. We have had good lodgings, and the beasts have fared well on hay, but had it not been for the food we brought from the last halting-place, verily I believe that we should not have had a bite from the time we entered the place five days ago to now.”

“We have been in almost as bad a plight, Hal. It was well indeed that we filled up our panniers, in the knowledge that there was little to be obtained in Ghent; though in truth we knew not that the pressure of want was so great.”

A few strokes with the heavy axe Hal carried at his saddlebow stove in the door, and they entered.

The interior of the mill was in great confusion, and by the manner in which things were thrown about, it was evident that it had been deserted in great haste, and probably some months before, when the fighting was going on hotly. “Look round, lads!” Edgar exclaimed. “They may well have left something behind when they fled so suddenly.”

A shout was raised when the men-at-arms entered the next chamber. In one corner stood ten sacks of flour, and the bin, into which the flour ran from the stones, was half full, and contained enough to fill five or six others. One of the Flemish men-at-arms was at once ordered to ride back at full speed to the road to intercept the twenty foot-men. These were to be directed to come at once to take charge of the mill, and the messenger was then to ride on till he met Van Artevelde, and to beg him to send forward as many bakers as there might be among his following, and to inform him that there was flour enough to furnish a loaf for every man in the force. As soon as the foot-men arrived, Edgar and Albert set them to work. The three men had already collected a quantity of wood and lighted the fire in a great oven that they had found, and from which it was evident that the miller was also a baker, and supplied the villagers round them. The two knights, with their followers, again started on horseback, and after four hours’ riding, returned with twelve cattle, four horses, and a score of sheep they had found grazing masterless over the country. By this time fifty bakers were at work, and five hundred men were sitting down round the mill waiting to carry the loaves, when baked, to the army. The animals were given over to the charge of ten of these men, who were ordered to drive them after the army until this halted. The young knights and their men-at-arms then rode away.

CHAPTER XIV

CIVIL WAR

Edgar and Albert came up with the force after an hour-and-a-half’s riding, and found it halted some four miles from Bruges. The news that the English knights had discovered a store of flour had passed quickly through the ranks, and they were loudly cheered as they rode in.

“Truly you have rendered us a vast service,” Van Artevelde said, as they joined him, “for it will not be needful to break in this evening upon our scanty store, and this is of vital importance, since we must perforce wait until the earl and the men of Bruges come out to attack us. Your men said that it was some fifteen sacks of flour that you had found?”

“About that, sir. There were ten full, and under the millstones was a great bin holding, I should say, half as much more. Moreover, we have ridden far over the country, and have gathered up twelve head of cattle, four horses, and a score of sheep. These are following us, and will give meat enough for a good meal to-day all round, and maybe something to spare, and to-morrow I trust that we may bring in some more.”

A murmur of satisfaction broke from the four or five burghers with Van Artevelde.

“This is a good beginning, indeed, of our adventure,” the latter said, “and greatly are we beholden to these knights. They have dispelled the apprehension I had that if the people of Bruges deferred their attack for a couple of days they might find us so weakened with hunger as to be unable to show any front against them.”

Two hours later the animals arrived, and were handed over to the company of the butchers’ guild, who proceeded at once to cut them up. They were then distributed among the various companies, with orders that but half was to be eaten that night and the rest kept for the morrow. In the meantime men had been sent on to some of the deserted villages, and had returned with doors, shutters, broken furniture, and beams, and fires were speedily lighted. Before the meat was ready half of those who had remained at the mill arrived laden with bread, and said that the rest would be up in two hours. For the first time for weeks the Ghentois enjoyed a hearty meal, and as Van Artevelde, with the young knights and burghers with him, went round on foot among the men, they were greeted with loud cheers and shouts of satisfaction.

The next day the force remained where it had halted. The two knights and the men-at-arms scoured the country again for some miles round, and drove in before them twenty-two head of cattle, and these sufficed, with what had remained over, to furnish food for the day and to leave enough for the troops to break their fast in the morning.

So deserted was the country that it was not until the next morning early that the news reached the earl that the men of Ghent had come out against him. Rejoicing that they should thus have placed themselves in his power, he sent out three knights to reconnoitre their position and bring an account of their numbers. After breakfast Philip Van Artevelde had moved his followers a short distance away from their halting-ground and taken up a position near to a small hill, where he addressed them.

Some friars and clergy who were with the force celebrated mass at various points, and then confessed the troops and exhorted them to keep up their courage, telling them that small forces had, with the help of God, frequently defeated large ones, and as all had been done that was possible to obtain peace but without avail, He would surely help them against these enemies who sought to destroy them utterly. Then they prepared for battle. Each man carried with him a long and sharp stake, as was their custom, in the same fashion as did the English archers, and they gathered in a square and set a hedge of these stakes round them. The enemy’s knights had ridden near them without being interfered with, for the Ghentois wished nothing better than that the smallness of their numbers should be clearly seen.

After they had ridden off, Van Artevelde, confident that their report would suffice to bring out the earl with his people, now ordered that the wine and bread brought out with them, which had hitherto been untouched, should be served out. The men then sat down and quietly awaited the attack. As Van Artevelde had hoped, the message taken back by the knights as to his strength and position was sufficient to induce the earl to give battle at once, as he feared that they might change their mind and retreat. The alarm-bells called all the citizens to arms. They fell in with their companies, and marched out forty thousand strong, including the knights and men-at-arms of the earl. The citizens of Bruges, delighted at the thought that the opportunity for levelling their haughty rival to the dust had now arrived, marched on, until they reached the edge of a pond in front of the position of the Ghentois.

Van Artevelde had placed the whole of the men with guns in the front rank, with the strictest orders that no shot was to be fired until the order was given. Waiting until the enemy had gathered in great masses, Van Artevelde gave the word, and the three hundred guns, many of these being wall- pieces, were fired at once, doing great destruction. The sun was behind the Ghentois, and its direct rays, and those reflected from the pond, rendered it difficult for the men of Bruges to see what their foes were doing, and observing the great confusion from the effect of the volley, the men of Ghent, with a mighty cheer, pulled up their stakes, and rushing round the ends of the pond, fell upon their enemies with fury.

The men of Bruges, who had anticipated no resistance, and had marched out in the full belief that the Ghentois would lay down their arms and crave for mercy as soon as they appeared, were seized with a panic. The two young knights, with their four men-at-arms, had placed themselves at the head of the foot-men, and, dashing among the citizens, hewed their way through them, followed closely by the shouting Ghentois. Numbers of the men of Bruges were slain with sword, axe, and pike. The others threw away their arms and fled, hotly pursued by their foes. Louis of Flanders, who, by a charge with his knights and men-at-arms, might well have remedied the matter, now showed that he was as cowardly as he was cruel, drew off with them, and, without striking a single blow, he himself and some forty men galloped to Bruges. The rest of his knights and followers scattered in all directions.

Great numbers of the flying citizens were killed in the pursuit. It was now dark; the earl on arriving had ordered the gate by which he entered to be closed, and had set twenty men there. Thus the retreat of the citizens into the town was prevented, and many were slaughtered. In consequence, the rest fled to other gates, where they were admitted, but with them rushed in their pursuers. Philip Van Artevelde begged the two English knights to each take a strong party, and to proceed round the walls in different directions, seizing all the gates, and setting a strong guard on them, that none should enter or leave; and then, with the main body of his following, he marched without opposition to the market-place.

The earl, when he found that the town was lost and the gates closed, disguised himself, and found shelter for the night in a loft in the house of a poor woman. Van Artevelde had issued the strictest orders that he was on no account to be injured, but was, when found, to be brought at once to him, so that he might be taken to Ghent, and there obliged to make a peace that would assure to the city all its privileges, and give rest and tranquillity to the country. In spite, however, of the most rigid search, the earl was not found; but the forty knights and men-at-arms who had entered with him were all captured and killed. No harm whatever was done to any of the inhabitants of Bruges, or to any foreign merchants or others residing there.

[Illustration: THE TWO YOUNG KNIGHTS CHARGE DOWN UPON THE PANIC-STRICKEN CROWD.]

On the following night the Earl of Flanders managed to effect his escape in disguise. That day being Sunday the men of Ghent repaired to the cathedral, where they had solemn mass celebrated, and a thanksgiving for their victory and for their relief from their sore strait. The young knights were not present, for as soon as the city was captured, Van Artevelde said to them:

“Brave knights, to you it is chiefly due that we are masters here to-day, instead of being men exhausted, without hope, and at the mercy of our enemies. It was you who found and brought us food, and so enabled us to hold out for two days, and to meet the enemy strong and in good heart. Then, too, I marked how you clove a way for our men to follow you through the ranks of the foe, spreading death and dismay among them. Sirs, to you, then, I give the honour of bearing the news to Ghent. I have ordered that fresh horses shall be brought you from the prince’s stable. Councillor Moens will ride with you to act as spokesman; but before starting, take, I pray you, a goblet of wine and some bread. It were well that you took your men-at-arms with you, for you might be beset on the road by some of the people who did not succeed in entering the gates, or by some of the cowardly knights who stood by and saw the citizens being defeated without laying lance in rest to aid them. Fresh horses shall be prepared for your men also, and they shall sup before they start. There is no lack of food here.”

Much gratified at the mission intrusted to them, the young knights at once ordered their men-at-arms to prepare for the ride.

“When you have supped,” Albert said, “see that you stuff your saddle-bags and ours with food for Van Voorden’s household first, and then for those who most need it.”

The meals were soon eaten. As they were about to mount Van Artevelde said to them:

“There will be no lack of provisions to-morrow, for in two hours a great train of waggons, loaded with provisions, will start under a strong guard, and to-morrow at daybreak herds of cattle will be brought in and driven there; you may be sure also that the rivers will be open as soon as the news is known, for none will now venture to interfere with those bringing food into Ghent.”

The councillor was ready, and in a few minutes they had passed out of the city, and were galloping along the road to Ghent, just as the bell of the cathedral tolled the hour often. Two hours later, without having once checked the speed of their horses, they heard the bells ringing midnight in Ghent. In ten minutes they approached the gate, and were challenged from the walls.

“I am the Councillor Moens,” the knights’ companion shouted. “I come from Philip Van Artevelde with good news. We have defeated the enemy and captured Bruges.”

There was a shout of delight from the walls, and in a minute the drawbridge was lowered and the great gate opened. The councillor rode straight to the town-hall. The doors were open, and numbers of the citizens were still gathered there. Moens did not wait to speak to them, but, running into the belfry, ordered the men there to ring their most joyous peal. The poor fellows had been lying about, trying to deaden their hunger by sleep, but at the order they leapt to their feet, seized the ropes, and Ghent was electrified by hearing the triumphal peal bursting out in the stillness of the night.

In the meantime those in the hall had crowded round the young knights and their followers, but these, beyond saying that the news was good, waited until Moens’ return. It was but a minute, and he at once shouted:

“The enemy have been beaten! We have taken Bruges! By the morning food will be here!”

Now from every belfry in the city the notes from the town-hall had been taken up, the clanging of the bells roused every sleeper, and the whole town poured into the street shouting wildly, for though they knew not yet what had happened, it was clear that some great news had arrived. All the councillors and the principal citizens had made for the town-hall, which was speedily thronged. Moens took his place with the two young knights upon the raised platform at the end, and lifted his hand for silence. The excited multitude were instantly still, and those near the doors closed them, to keep out the sound of the bells. Then Moens, speaking at the top of his voice that all might hear him, said: “I am now but the mouthpiece of these English knights, to whom Van Artevelde has given the honour of bearing the news to you, but since they are ignorant of our language I have come with them as interpreter. First, then, we have met the army of Bruges and the earl, forty thousand strong; we have defeated them with great slaughter, and with but small loss to ourselves.”

A mighty shout rose from the crowd, and it was some minutes before the speaker could continue.

“Following on the heels of our flying foes, we entered the city, and Bruges is ours.”

Another shout, as enthusiastic as the first, again interrupted him.

“A great train of waggons filled with wine and provisions was to start at midnight, and will be here to-morrow morning at daybreak. Herds will be driven in, and dispatched at once. By to-morrow night, therefore, the famine will be at an end, and every man, woman, and child in Ghent will be able to eat their fill.”

Those at the door shouted the glad news to the multitude in the square, and a roar like that of the sea answered, and echoed the shouts in the hall.

“Tell us more, tell us more!” the men cried, when the uproar ceased. “We have seven or eight hours to wait for food; tell us all about it.”

“I will tell you first, citizens, why I am speaking to you in the name of these English knights, and why they have been chosen to have the honour of bringing these good tidings hither.”

He then told them how, the force being without horsemen, and bound to keep straight along by the road, the two knights had volunteered to ride out to see if any hostile force was approaching, and also to endeavour to find provisions.

“The latter seemed hopeless,” the councillor went on. “Every village had long since been deserted, and no living soul met the eye on the plain. They had been gone but three hours when one of their men-at-arms rode in, asking that all the bakers should be sent forward at once, for that, in a mill less than two miles from the road, they had discovered fifteen sacks of flour left behind. The bakers started at once with five hundred men to bring on the bread as fast as it was baked to the spot where we were to halt.

“This was not all, for, later on, the knights with some of the men joined us at the camp with sufficient cattle, sheep, and horses, that the knights had found straying, to give every man a meal that night, and one the following morning. The next day they drove in a few more, and so it was not until to-day that we touched the store we took with us. It was the food that saved us. Had we been forced to eat our scanty supply that first night, we should have been fasting for well-nigh forty-eight hours, and when the earl, with his knights and men-at-arms and the townsmen of Bruges, in all forty thousand men, marched out to meet us, what chance would five thousand famished men have had against them? As it was, the food we got did wonders for us; and every man seemed to have regained his full strength and courage. When they came nigh to us we poured in one volley with all our guns, which put them into confusion. The sun was in their eyes, and almost before they knew that we had moved, we were upon them.

“These two knights and their four men-at-arms flung themselves into the crowd and opened the way for our footmen, and in five minutes the fight was over. It may be that many of the craftsmen of Bruges were there unwillingly, and that these were among the first to throw down their arms and fly. However it was, in five minutes the whole force was in full flight. The earl’s knights and their men-at-arms struck not a single blow, but seeming panic-struck, scattered and fled in all directions, the earl and forty men alone gaining Bruges. There they closed the gate against the fugitives, but these fled to other gates, and so hotly did we pursue them that we entered mixed up with them.

“Van Artevelde committed to the two English knights the task of seizing all the gates, and of setting a guard to prevent any man from leaving, while the rest of us under him pushed forward to the market-place. There was no resistance. Thousands of the men had fallen in the battle and flight. Thousands had failed to enter the gates. All who did so were utterly panic-stricken and terrified. Thus the five thousand men you sent out have defeated forty thousand, and have captured Bruges, and I verily believe that not more than a score have fallen. Methinks, my friends, you will all agree with me that your governor has done well to give these knights the honour of carrying the good news to Ghent.”

A mighty shout answered the question. The crowd rushed upon the two young knights, each anxious to speak to them, and praise them. With difficulty the councillor, aided by some of his colleagues, surrounded them, and made a way to a small door at the end of the platform. Once beyond the building, they hurried along by-streets to Van Voorden’s house, to where, on entering the hall, they had charged the men-at-arms at once to take the horses, to hand over as much of the provisions as were needed for the immediate wants of the household, and then to carry the rest to the nuns of a convent hard by–for these were, they knew, reduced to the direst straits before the expedition started.

“Welcome back, welcome back!” the Fleming exclaimed, as they entered, and the words were repeated by wife and daughter. “Your men-at-arms told my wife what had happened, and I myself heard it from the lower end of the town-hall, where I arrived just as Moens began to speak. I saw you escape from the platform, and hurried off, but have only this instant arrived. The crush was so great in the square that it was difficult to make my way through it, but forgive us if we say nothing further until we have eaten that food upon the table, for indeed we have had but one regular meal since you left the town. Tell me first, though, for all were too excited to ask Moens the question–has the earl been captured?”

“He had not, up to the moment when we left. The strictest search is being made for him. It is known that he must be somewhere in the town, for he and a party, not knowing that Van Artevelde was in the market-place, well- nigh fell into his hands, and he certainly could not have got through any of the gates before we had closed them and had placed a strong guard over them. Van Artevelde has given strict orders that he is to be taken uninjured, and he purposes to bring him here, and to make him sign a peace with us.”

“I trust that he will be caught,” Van Voorden said; “but as for the peace, I should have no faith in it, for be sure that as soon as he is once free again he would repudiate it, and would at once set to work to gather, with the aid of Burgundy, a force with which he could renew the war, wipe out the disgrace that has befallen him, and take revenge upon the city that inflicted it. Now, let us to supper.”

“We will but look on,” Albert said, with a smile. “We supped at Bruges at half-past nine, but it will be a pleasure indeed to see you eat it.”

“We must not eat much,” the merchant said to his wife and daughter. “Let