.dt The Story of Viteau, by Frank R. Stockton—A Project Gutenberg eBook
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.ca RAYMOND, LOUIS, AND THE PAGE RETURN TO VITEAU.
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THE STORY OF VITEAU
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[Illustration: RAYMOND, LOUIS, AND THE PAGE RETURN TO VITEAU.]
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THE

<xl>STORY OF VITEAU</xl>

BY

<l>FRANK R. STOCKTON</l>

<s>AUTHOR OF "A JOLLY FELLOWSHIP," "THE FLOATING PRINCE," ETC.</s>

<i>ILLUSTRATED</i>

<sc>New York</sc>
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
1907
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COPYRIGHT 1884
BY CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
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LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
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#<sc>Raymond, Louis and the Page return to Viteau</sc>, (Frontispiece.):lol0004#

#<sc>Bernard, Raymond and Louis meet the Monk</sc>,:lol0017# 9

#<sc>Louis and Bernard on their way to DeBarran's Castle</sc>,:lol0031# 20

#<sc>Louis, Agnes, and the Falcon</sc>,:lol0041# 29

#<sc>Louis finds one of the Highwaymen a good-natured fellow</sc>,:lol0054# 41

#<sc>Bernard teaching Raymond the use of the long sword</sc>,:lol0066# 50

#<sc>Brother Anselmo threatens Bernard and Raymond</sc>,:lol0078# 60

#<sc>The Countess sent for Jasto and thanked him warmly</sc>,:lol0112# 93

#<sc>A small window was opened</sc>,:lol0118# 97

#<sc>Agnes tells Raymond and Louis of her plan</sc>,:lol0132# 109

#<sc>Sir Hugo and Sir Charles charge the Robbers</sc>,:lol0146# 120

#<sc>The flight of the Countess</sc>,:lol0160# 132

#<sc>Michol welcomes the Countess</sc>,:lol0166# 136

#<sc>Agnes makes a plea for the mother of Raymond and Louis</sc>,:lol0172# 141

#<sc>The Robbers in the Old Woman's Cottage</sc>,:lol0194# 160

#<sc>The Robbers in the hallway were forced into the Court-yard</sc>,:lol0214# 178
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<xl>The Story of Viteau.</xl>
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CHAPTER I.
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BY the side of a small stream, which ran through one
of the most picturesque portions of the province
of Burgundy, in France, there sat, on a beautiful day
in early summer, two boys, who were brothers.

They had been bathing in the stream, and now,
having dressed, they were talking together on the
bank.

Raymond, the elder, was about fourteen years old,
and his brother Louis was some eighteen months
younger. In form and feature, and in general disposition
and character, they were not unlike many of the
boys of our day, and yet these two young fellows lived
more than six hundred years ago. They were dressed
in simple tunics, one green, one brown, and wore short
breeches, dark-colored stockings, and rather clumsy
shoes.
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The two brothers were very busily engaged in conversation,
for they had a great deal to say to each
other, and not much time to say it in. On the next
day Louis was going away from home, to be gone a
long, long time.

Raymond and Louis were the sons of the Countess
of Viteau, whose chateau stood on a little eminence
about half a mile away. Their father, the Count of
Viteau, had been one of the most steadfast adherents
and supporters of the Duke of Burgundy, in his endeavors
to maintain the independence of his dukedom
against the claims of the French crown, and had fallen
in one of the battles between the Duke's followers and
the army of the Regent, Queen Blanche, who, in those
days, ruled France in the name of her son, the young
King, Louis IX., afterward known as Louis the Just,
or St. Louis.

The Duke's forces had been defeated, Burgundy had
been compelled to acknowledge the supremacy of the
French crown, and peace reigned in the kingdom.

The widowed Countess of Viteau now found herself
the sole protector and guardian of her two boys. Fortunately,
she had a large estate, but even this added to
her cares and responsibilities, and rendered her less able
to attend to what she had intended should be the aim
and business of her life—the education of her sons.

Education, in those days, did not mean what it does
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now. The majority of the people, even of the upper
classes, were not educated at all, some of the lords
and barons being unable to write their names. Printing
had not been invented; all books were in manuscript,
and were scarce and valuable. Most of the learning,
such as it was, had been, for a long time, confined to
the monks and priests; but, in the era in which our
two boys lived, people had begun to give more attention
to general education, and there were schools
in some of the large cities which were well attended,
and where the students of that day were taught grammar,
logic, rhetoric, music, arithmetic, geometry, and
astronomy, although their studies in most of these
branches were not carried very far. The school of
Paris was one of the most celebrated of these institutions.

The Countess of Viteau was among the few ladies
of the time who really cared for an education beyond
that which included the small number of accomplishments
then considered necessary to persons of
high position. When quite a young woman, she had
learned all that the priests, one or more of whom
generally lived in her father's house, could teach her,
and afterward, when her sons were old enough, she
made it her personal business to attend to their
studies. Some things she taught them herself, and,
for other branches, she employed such men of knowledge—almost
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always members of some order of the
clergy—as could be obtained.

But now the time had arrived when the customs
of the day demanded that one of her sons, at least,
should leave her to receive an education of another
sort, and her younger boy was to be sent away to the
castle of the Count de Barran, an old friend and
fellow-soldier of her husband, to be taught, as most
of the boys of his station were taught, the arts and
usages of knighthood and chivalry. Raymond would
also be a knight, but his mother wished him to be
more than that. He would succeed to the rank and
estate of his father, and she hoped that he would
not only be a nobleman and a soldier, but a scholar.
When he should leave her to go to the school at
Paris,—and it was for this school that she was now
endeavoring to prepare him,—he would live with one
of his relatives, by whom he would be instructed in
the noble duties of chivalry. His mother felt sure
that his studies at the school and his knightly exercises
would not interfere with each other.

"Only one more day," said Raymond, "and then
it will seem so strange here without you, Louis."

"But it will be ever so much stranger for me,"
said Louis, "for I shall be without everybody. I
have never seen a single soul of the castle people,
excepting the Count de Barran, and it is so long
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since he was here that I have almost forgotten him. He
was a big, stout man, and that's all I know about him."

"You might as well have never seen him," said
Raymond, "for he is not stout, and he is not big.
He's a tall, thin man, and, I think, a kind one. But
I expect you soon will know everybody."

"Or they will know me," said Louis, "which will
be the same thing. I know I shall have lively
times. Let me see: For a year and a half I shall
be a page. There must be ever so many ways for
the pages, especially if there are a good many of
us, to have royal fun. And then, when I am fourteen,
I shall be a squire. I think I shall not like
that so much, excepting for the fighting part."

"Fighting!" exclaimed his brother. "You'll have
none of that."

"Oh yes, but I shall have," returned Louis. "Barran
has always been fighting, ever since I heard of
him; and if he does his duty by me, he is bound
to take me with him to the wars."

"But the wars are all over," said Raymond. "You
know that as well as I do."

"Oh, there'll be more," said Louis, laughing.
"There is sure to be trouble of some kind before
I'm fourteen. And, if there are any wars, you must
come to them. It won't do to be spending all your
time here, with priests and books."
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"Priests and books!" exclaimed Raymond. "I
don't expect to spend half my time with them. I
shall ride and fence, and tilt and hunt quite as much
as you will, or even more, I doubt not. But I can
do all that, and be a scholar too."

"I'd like well enough to be a scholar," said
Louis, "if it were not so much trouble. Just to
learn to write, like the monks who make our books,
must take years! I tell you, Raymond, it would be
time wasted for me."

"No doubt of that," said his brother, laughing.
"You would never have the patience to write out all
the pages of a book, even if you could do it so
well that people could read it. If you can do so
much as write me a letter from the castle, to tell
me how you find things there, and what happens
to you, I shall be glad enough."

"I never did write a letter," said Louis, "but I
feel quite sure that I could do it. The trouble
would be for you to read it."

"That's true;" said Raymond, "but I will do my
best to read, if you will do your best to write."

"Did not our mother tell you to ask me this?"
said Louis, turning towards his brother with a smile.

"She did," answered Raymond.

"I thought it sounded like her," said Louis.
"She greatly wants me to read and write; and, for
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her sake, and yours, too, Raymond, I'll try a letter.
But is not that Bernard, over in the field?"

"Yes, it is," said Raymond. "He is training a
young falcon for me."

"For you!" cried Louis, jumping up. "I did not
know that. Let us go down to him."

"I did not know it, either," said his brother, rising,
"until yesterday. Bernard is going to teach me to
fly the bird as soon as it is trained."

"And I am going away to-morrow," cried Louis.
"It is too bad!"

The boys now ran down to the field, where a tall,
broad-shouldered man, dressed in a short, coarse
jacket of brown cloth, with tight breeches of the
same stuff, was walking towards them. He bore on
his left hand a large falcon, or goshawk, a bird used
in that day for hunting game of various kinds.

"Ho, Bernard!" cried Louis, "how is it I never
heard that you were training that bird? I should have
liked to watch you all the time."

"That is the reason you were not told," said Bernard,
who had been the squire of the late Count, and was now
a well-trusted member of the household of Viteau.

"If you had known what I was about," he continued,
"you would have done nothing but watch me, and
therefore it was that your good mother told me to
keep the matter from you. It takes a long time
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and a world of trouble to train a hawk, especially
one that was nearly full-grown when caught, as this
one was. Those taken from their nests are far
easier to manage."

"But he is trained now, isn't he?" said Louis.
"Why not try him to-day? Just one flight, good
Bernard, for, you know, I shall be gone to-morrow.
We can easily find a heron, or a pheasant, or something
he can go after."

"No, no, my boy," said the squire; "this bird is
not yet ready to cast off for a free flight. Why,
it was only last week that I ceased using the long
string with which I brought him back when I
wanted him; and, ever since, I have been very careful
to have a lure which should be so tempting
that he would be certain to come down to it, no
matter how high he might soar. See, here is the
one I used to-day. He has eaten from it the whole
breast of a pigeon."

With this he showed the boys his "lure," which
was a rude figure of a bird, the body made of
cloth, with the head, talons, and wings of a real bird,
and to which had been attached a piece of some
kind of meat of which the falcon is fond. By being
thus accustomed to find something good to tear and
eat when called to his master, the bird gradually
learned to obey the call whenever he heard it.
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.ca BERNARD, RAYMOND, AND LOUIS MEET THE MONK.
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[Illustration: BERNARD, RAYMOND, AND LOUIS MEET THE MONK.]
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Raymond was quite willing to wait until the hawk
was thoroughly trained, before testing him in actual
sport; but Louis, very naturally, made great complaint.
To-day was his last chance. Bernard, however, was
firm, and so they walked towards the chateau, the
hooded bird still perched upon the squire's wrist.

Just as the three, now busily talking of Louis'
future life at the castle of the Count de Barran,
were about entering a little gate in the lower part
of the grounds which surround the house, there came
out of the gate a monk wearing a long, dark, and
rather dirty gown, and walking with his eyes fixed
upon the ground, as if deeply engaged in thought.
He seemed scarcely to perceive the boys or the
squire, as he passed them.

"I shall be glad to be free from those long-gowned
folk," said Louis, as they entered the grounds.
"No more priests' lessons for me. I shall have
knights and soldiers for my teachers."

"All very fine," said Bernard, "but you will have
other things to do besides learning how to be a
knight and soldier. You will serve your masters
and your mistresses at table, clean armor, hold stirrups,
and do everything else they ask of you."

"Oh yes," said Louis; "but that will be only while
I am a page. In a year and a half all that will
be over."
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"A year and a half seems to me like a long
time," said Raymond; "but time always passes
quickly with Louis."

This remark was made to Bernard, but the squire
did not appear to hear it. He was looking back
through the gate at the departing monk.

"If I only knew that <i>he</i> was never coming back,"
he said to himself, "I would not much care what
else happened."

And then he followed the boys up to the chateau.
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CHAPTER II.
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THE good squire did not make his inhospitable
remark in regard to the monk because he had
any dislike for monks or priests in general. He
had as high an opinion of the members of the clergy
as any one, but he had a very strong dislike for
this particular prior. To understand his reasons for
this feeling, we must know that, not very long before
the period at which our story begins, and soon
after the Queen Regent had conquered the rebellious
provinces, and so consolidated the kingdom, there
was established in the city of Toulouse that terrible
tribunal of the Romish Church known as the Holy
Inquisition. Here persons suspected of holding opinions
in opposition to the doctrines taught by the
Church were tried, often subjected to tortures in
order to induce them to confess the crimes with
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which they were charged, and punished with great
severity if found guilty. This inquisition was under
the charge of the Dominican friars, of which order
the man who had just passed out of the little gate
was a member.

For several weeks the frequent visits of this prior
to the Countess of Viteau had given a great deal
of uneasiness to Bernard. The man was not one of
the regular religious instructors of the family, nor
had he anything to do with the education of the
boys. There was some particular reason for his
visits to the chateau, and of this the household at
large knew nothing; but the fact of his being a
Dominican, and therefore connected with the Inquisition,
made him an unpleasant visitor to those who
saw his comings and goings, but who did not know
their object.

Squire Bernard thought that he knew why this
Brother Anselmo came so often to the chateau, but
he could not be certain that he was right. So he
kept his ideas to himself, and did no more than
hope that each visit of the friar might be the last.

When the two brothers entered the chateau, they
went directly to their mother's apartments. They
found her in a large room, the floor of which was
covered with soft rushes, for there were no carpets
in those days. There was an abundance of furniture,
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but it was stiff and heavy, and on the walls
there hung various pieces of tapestry, of silk or
wool, most of which the good lady had embroidered
herself.

The Countess of Viteau was a woman of about
thirty-five years of age, and of a sweet but dignified
appearance and demeanor. She was evidently very
fond of her children, and they were equally fond of
her. She had a book in her hand when the boys
entered (it should be remembered that she was one
of the very few ladies of that day who read books),
but she laid it down, and drew her sons to her,
one on each side.

"Mother," said Louis, as she leaned over to kiss
the young fellow who was to leave her the next
day for such a long, long time,—"Mother, I wish
you would write a letter to the Count de Barran,
and ask him to have me taught falconry as soon as
possible, and also to get me a hawk of my own,
and have him trained."

"What put that into your head?" asked his
mother, who could not help smiling at this absurd
idea on the part of a boy who was going to begin
life as a page, but who expected to enter at once into
the sports and diversions of the grown-up nobility.

"It was Raymond's falcon that made me think of
it," said Louis. "I suppose I shall not see that bird
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fly,—at least, not for ever so long,—and so I want
one of my own."

"I did not intend you should know anything
about Raymond's falcon," said his mother, "for I
knew it would fill your head so full that there
would be no room for anything else. But we will
not talk of falcons now. I have a great deal to
say to my little boy——"

"Not so very little either," said Louis, drawing himself
up to his full height.

"Who is going away," continued his mother, "to
learn to be a page, a squire, and a Christian knight."

We need not know what she said to him, but
the three were together until the room grew dark,
and there was no treasure that Louis could take
with him which could be so valuable as the motherly
advice he received that afternoon.

Louis was to start for Barran's castle in the forenoon
of the next day, and was to be accompanied
by Bernard and a small body of archers, for, although
there were no wars going on at that time,
there was always danger from robbers. All over
France, and in many other parts of Europe, there
were well-organized bands of men who made a regular
business of pillaging travelers on the highways. So it
was necessary that Louis should have with him enough
men to defend him against an attack by these brigands.
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Very early in the morning,—earlier than any one
else in the chateau, excepting a few servants,—Louis
arose and dressed himself. He did this very quietly,
so as not to wake his brother. Then he stole softly
down to a room in the lower part of the building,
where he knew Bernard kept the falcon he was
training. The door of this room was shut, but not
locked, and Louis slipped in without waking the
squire, who slept soundly in a chamber just across
the passage-way.

He closed the door, and looking around the room,
into which a little light came from a small, high window,
he soon perceived the falcon sitting on a wooden
perch, in a corner. The bird was unhooded, but
was tied by the leg, with a short cord, to the perch.
On a small table near by lay the hood. As Louis
approached the falcon, it turned its head quickly
towards him and slightly raised its wings. This
threatening gesture made the boy hesitate; he did
not want to be bitten or scratched. Drawing back,
and looking about him, he saw a cloth lying upon
a bench. Seizing this, he quickly threw it over the
bird, untied the cord, and, muffling with the cloth a
little bell which was fastened to one of the falcon's
legs, Louis snatched up the hood from the table,
and, with the bird under his arm, he hurried out
of the room, carefully closing the door behind him.
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Out-of-doors, he quickly made his way to the little
gate at the bottom of the grounds, and, through
this, passed out into the road. When he reached a
spot where he could not be seen from the chateau,
he sat down, carefully uncovered the head of the
falcon, and clapped over it the little hood. Then he
threw aside the cloth, and set the bird upon his
wrist, where it perched contentedly, although not finding
it quite so firm a support as the strong hand of
Bernard. While wearing the hood, which completely
covered its eyes, it would not attempt to fly.

"Now, then," said he to himself, "I shall try what
this fine bird can do; and when I have had an
hour's sport, I shall take it back and put it on its
perch, and no one will be any the worse for it. If
I meet Bernard, as I go back, I shall not care. I
shall have had my bit of falconry, and he can have
his falcon. There must be herons, or some kind of
birds, down in that field by the wood, where we saw
Bernard yesterday."

When Louis reached the field, he gazed eagerly into
the air and all about him for some flying creature,
after which he could send his falcon in chase. But
nothing, excepting a few small birds, could he discover,
and he was not to be content with such game
as they. If he had had dogs with him, or knew
how himself to arouse the birds from their covers,
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he might have had a chance to send his falcon after
a long-legged heron, or a pheasant; but no large
bird chose to make its appearance, and poor Louis
began to think that he would lose the one chance
he had of seeing Raymond's falcon in pursuit of its
prey.

Suddenly, from under some bushes near the edge
of the wood, a large hare leaped out, and went
jumping across an open space towards a little copse
a short distance beyond the spot where Louis stood.
Our young hunter knew that falcons chased hares,
and such small animals, as well as winged game,
and he instantly jerked the hood from the head of
his bird, and cast it off toward the flying hare.

But, to his amazement, the falcon did not pursue
the hare, which, in a few moments, disappeared in
the copse. Louis did not know that hawks or falcons
were not always trained to chase both hares
and birds, and that this one had been accustomed
to fly after winged game only.

Instead of swooping upon the hare, which, it is
probable, it did not see, the falcon rose into the air,
and began to soar around in a great circle.

"Perhaps it will see some game for itself," thought
Louis, "and that will do just as well."

But the falcon did not appear to be in pursuit of
anything. It only flew around and around, apparently
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rising higher and higher each moment. Louis
now became anxious for it to come down, so that
he could try again in some other place to scare up
some game, and he began to whistle and call, as he
had heard the falconers do when they wished their
birds to descend.

But the falcon paid no attention to his calls, and,
after rising to a great height, it flew away to the
south, and presently was lost to sight.

Poor Louis was overwhelmed with grief. It seemed
to him that he could never hear anything so dismal
as the last tinkle of the little bell on the falcon's
leg, nor see anything so sad as the dark speck
which he watched until it appeared to melt away
into the distant sky.

For some minutes Louis stood gazing up into the
air, and then he hung his head, while a few tears
came into his eyes. But he was a sturdy boy in
mind and body, and he did not cry much. He
slowly turned, and, with the hood of the falcon in
his hand, went back to the house.

"If they ask me about it, I shall tell them," he
said to himself, "but I hope they will not find it
out just as I am starting away."

It was yet quite early when Louis reached his
room, where he found his brother still asleep, and
there was soon so much hurry and bustle, in the
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preparation for the departure of the little expedition,
that the absence of the falcon did not seem to have
been discovered.

After a prolonged leave-taking, and a great many
tears from his mother and brother, and from many
of the retainers and servants of the chateau, Louis
set forth for the castle of Barran. He rode his
mother's palfrey, a small and gentle horse, and was
followed by quite a train of archers and men-at-arms,
headed by the trusty Bernard.
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CHAPTER III.
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WHEN the first pain caused by the separation
from his dear mother and brother began to
subside in Louis' heart,—and it must be admitted
that it began to subside pretty soon, the day being
so bright and everybody in such good spirits,—he
felt quite proud to see himself at the head of such
a goodly company, and greatly wished that they
would fall in with some enemy, so that he might
have a little conquering to tell about when he should
reach his future home. But no enemy was met, and,
if a fight had taken place, it is not likely that the
boy would have been able to boast of his part in
it, for Bernard was very careful of his young charge,
and as soon as they had left the neighborhood of
the Chateau de Viteau, and had entered the forest
through which ran their road for the greater part
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of the journey, he made Louis ride about the middle
of the little procession, while he himself went
a short distance in advance, looking carefully about
him for the first signs of robbers, or any one else
who might be likely to dispute their passage.
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.ca LOUIS AND BERNARD ON THEIR WAY TO DE BARRAN'S CASTLE.
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[Illustration: LOUIS AND BERNARD ON THEIR WAY TO DE BARRAN'S CASTLE.]
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But no such persons were met, and towards the
end of the afternoon Louis and his train rode into
the court-yard of the castle.

The moment that he entered the great gates, the
quick eye of the boy perceived that he had come
to a place very different from his mother's chateau.
He had supposed there would be a difference, but
had never imagined it would be so great. There
were a good many serving-people, of various ranks
and orders, at Viteau. There were ladies in attendance
on his mother; and sometimes there were
knights and other visitors, whose diversions had made
what Raymond and Louis had considered a very
gay time; but there never had been anything like
the lively scenes which met the eye of our young
friend, both in the court-yard and in the halls of
the castle itself. Outside there were boy-pages running
on various errands, or standing about, watching
other people and neglecting their own business; and
there were squires, men-at-arms, and archers who
were lounging in the shade, or busily at work rubbing
up a piece of armor, or putting a point on an
// 034.png
.bn 034.png
arrow-head or on a blunted lance. Here and there
was a knight not clad in armor, but in fine silk
and embroidered cloth, looking at horses which were
being led about the inclosure by varlets or inferior
serving-men, who generally were dressed in clothes
of dirty leather. Two barefooted monks, one of them
holding the bridle of a donkey, with a bag thrown
across his back, were talking together near the gate.
Some people were laughing, some were talking, some
were calling to others at a distance, and some were
hammering; the horses were making a good deal of
noise with their feet; a man was blowing a horn,
which he had begun to blow as soon as Louis entered
the gates, and which was intended, it appeared,
as a general announcement that somebody had arrived
who was a friend, and had been admitted freely. All
together, there was more noise, and moving about,
and standing still, and lying down, than Louis had
ever seen, at one time, before.

Inside the castle there was not so much bustle;
but knights and ladies, the first generally dressed
much more finely, and with more show of color and
ornament than their female companions, were to be
seen here and there. The pages who were not running
about or standing still outside, seemed to be
doing the same inside; there was a clatter of metal
and wooden dishes in the dining-hall, where the servants
// 035.png
.bn 035.png
were preparing supper; and, in a room opening
into the great hall, a tall knight sat upon a
stool, with a little harp on his knee, singing one
of the romantic songs which were so much liked in
those days, and accompanying his voice with a steady
"tum-tum" on the harp-strings. Around him were
several knights and ladies, some sitting and some
standing, and all listening, with much satisfaction, to
his song.

The Count de Barran, a tall, spare man, with an
ugly but good-humored face, gave Louis a kindly
welcome.

"He is the son of Raymond de Viteau, my old
brother-at-arms," he said to a knight with a great
brown beard, who stood beside him, "and I shall
try to make of him as good a knight as his—as
I can."

"You were going to say 'as good a knight as
his father,' good sir," said Louis quickly, looking up
into Barran's face. "Do you think I cannot be
that?"

"That will depend upon yourself," said the master
of the castle. "Your father was brave and noble
above his fellow-knights. If you become his equal,
my little fellow, I shall be very proud. And now I
shall send you to my sister, the Lady Clemence,
who will see that you are taken care of."
// 036.png
.bn 036.png

"The boy's quickness of wit comes out well, even
now," said the brown-bearded knight; "but you may
have to wait for the bravery and the honor to show
themselves."

"Not long, I hope," replied Barran. "Good blood
must soon make some sign, if he has it in him."

The next day Bernard and his train returned to
Viteau, with many messages from Louis, and the life
of the boy, as the youngest page in the castle,
fairly commenced. In a few days he began to
understand his duties, and to make friends among the
other pages, all of whom were sons of well-born people.
These boys had come to the castle to receive
the only education they would ever have. Louis did
not at first very much like to wait upon the knights
and ladies at table, and to find himself expected to
serve so many people in so many ways; but he soon
became used to these things, especially when he saw
other boys, whom he knew to be just as good as
he was, doing what he was expected to do.

He had a bright, interesting face, and he soon became
a favorite, especially among the ladies, for they
liked to be waited upon by a page who was so
good-humored and quick. The Count de Barran was
not married, and his sister, the Lady Clemence, was
at the head of domestic affairs in his castle.

The only very young person among the visitors at
// 037.png
.bn 037.png
the castle was a little girl named Agnes, the
motherless daughter of Count Hugo de Lanne, the
brown-bearded man who had talked with De Barran
about his new page. Between this girl and Louis
a friendship soon sprang up. Agnes was a year
older than he, and she knew so much of castle-life,
and of the duties of a page, that she became
one of his best instructors. She was a lively, impulsive
girl; and this was the reason, no doubt,
why she and Louis got on so well together.

One morning, as Agnes was passing through an
upper hall, she saw, standing at a window which
overlooked the court-yard, our young friend Louis,
with an enormous battle-ax over his shoulder. As
she approached, he turned from the window, out of
which he had been looking.

"What in the world," she cried, "are you doing
with that great ax, and what makes you look so
doleful?"

"I am taking the ax down to the armorer's shop,
to be sharpened and polished," he said.

"It is too big a thing for you to be carrying
about," said Agnes, "and it seems sharp enough
now. And as to you, you look as if you were
going somewhere to cut your head off with it.
What is the matter with you?"

"That is the matter," said Louis, turning again
// 038.png
.bn 038.png
to the window, and pointing to a body of horsemen
who were just riding out of the gate. They had
dogs with them, and several of them carried each a
hooded falcon perched upon his wrist.

"Did you want to go hunting herons? Is that
what troubles you?" asked Agnes.

"No, indeed; I don't want to go," said Louis.
"I hate to see falcons."

"What did you look at them for, then?" asked
Agnes. "But I don't see how you can hate them.
I love to see them swooping about, so lordly, in
the air. Why do not you like them as well as I do?"

Moved by a strong desire to share his secret with
some one, Louis, after a little hesitation, finally put
the battle-ax on the floor, and told Agnes the whole
story of the loss of his brother's falcon, first making
her promise that she would never repeat it to any
one. He told it all in a straightforward way, and
finished by explaining how the sight of the hunters
made him think of his poor brother, who could not
go hawking for ever so long. Indeed, he did not
know that Bernard would be willing to get another
hawk and take all the trouble of training it. He
might be very angry.

"I think it's easy enough to make that right,"
said Agnes. "You ought to give your brother
another hawk, already trained."
// 039.png
.bn 039.png

"I would like much to know where I am to get
it," said Louis.

Agnes thought for a moment.

"My father will give you one," she said, "if I
ask him. If he questions me as to what you want
with it, I can tell him, with truth, that you want
to give it to your brother, who has no falcon, and
who needs one very much."

"Do you really think he would give me one?"
asked Louis, with brightening face.

"I am sure of it," said Agnes. "He has plenty
of trained falcons, and he could spare one easily
enough. I will ask him, as soon as he comes back
to-day."

Accordingly, when Count Hugo returned from his
hawking expedition that afternoon, he was met by
his little daughter, who asked him for a falcon, a
well-trained and good one, which could hunt hares
as well as birds, and which would be sure to come
back to its master whenever it was called.

Of course such a request as this excited some
surprise, and required a good deal of explanation.
But when Count Hugo, who was a very indulgent
father, and who had also quite a liking for Louis,
heard what was to be done with the bird, he consented
to give it.

"If he wanted it for himself," he said, "I should
// 040.png
.bn 040.png
not let him have it, for a page has no need of falcons,
and a boy of the right spirit ought not to
desire gifts; but, as he wants it for his brother,
who is in a station to use it, it shows a generous
disposition, and he shall have it." And calling to
one of his falconers to bring him a hawk, he handed
it to Agnes, and told her that she should herself
give it to her young friend.

"He and you can look at it for a quarter of an
hour," said the Count, "and then he must bring it
back to Orion, here, who will feed and take care
of it until the boy has an opportunity of sending it
to his brother. Don't take its hood off, and keep
your fingers well clear of its beak."

When Agnes appeared with the falcon unsteadily
perched on her two small fists, which she had covered
with a scarf, to keep its talons from hurting
her, Louis was overwhelmed with delight. He was
sure that this was a much finer bird than the one
he had lost.

When the falcon had been sufficiently admired,
and had been returned to its keeper, and when
Louis had run to find Count Hugo, and had thanked
him for his kindness, the question arose between the
two young friends: How was he to be carried to
Raymond?
.if h
.il fn=lol0041.jpg id=lol0041  w=449px
.ca LOUIS, AGNES, AND THE FALCON.
.if-

.if t
[Illustration: LOUIS, AGNES, AND THE FALCON.]
.if-

"If I had any way of riding there, I'd take it to
// 041.png
.bn 041.png
// 042.png
.bn 042.png
// 043.png
.bn 043.png
him myself. I want him to have it just as soon
as he can get it," said Louis.

"I can lend you my jennet," said Agnes. "He is
small, but can travel far."

"You will lend him!" cried Louis. "And are
you not going to use him for two days? It will
take at the very least two days to go to Viteau
and come back."

"I may not ride him for a week," said Agnes.
"But you must not travel to your mother's house
alone. You must wait until some company is going
that way."

Louis would have been willing to start off by
himself, but he knew he would not be allowed to
do so; and he had to curb his impatience for three
whole days before an opportunity of making his
journey offered itself. Then a knight from the south
was leaving the castle, with a small train, and as
they would pass near Viteau, Louis was allowed to
accompany them.

The Count de Barran was not pleased that his
new page should ask for leave of absence so soon;
but, as it was represented that there was good reason
for the journey, and as the Lady Clemence urged
the boy's request, he was allowed to go.

So, early one morning Louis started away, the
gayest of his company, his little Spanish steed
// 044.png
.bn 044.png
were evidently the present dwelling-places of these
robbers, or <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang>, as they were called. There
were several classes of highwaymen, or brigands, in
France at this time, and of these the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang> were,
probably, the most numerous.

There were fires built in various places about the
open space in which the huts had been erected,
and there were a good many men around the fires.
A smell of cooking meat made Louis feel sure that
supper would soon be ready, and this was a comforting
thing to him, for he was very hungry. The
supper which was served to him was of plain food,
but he had enough, and the bed he slept on, at the
back part of the Captain's hut, was nothing but a
lot of dry leaves and twigs, with a coarse cloth
thrown over it; but Louis was very tired, and it
was not long before he was sound asleep.

He was much troubled, of course, at the thought
of going to bed in this way, in the midst of a band
of robbers, but he was not afraid that they would
do him any injury, for he had heard enough about
these <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang> to know that they took prisoners
almost always for the purpose of making money out
of them, and not to do them useless harm. If he
had been an older and a deeper thinker, he would,
probably, have thought of the harm which might be
done to him in case no money could be made by
// 045.png
.bn 045.png
overtaken. He expected to be pursued, for he knew
the knight and his men would not allow him to go
off by himself if it could be prevented.

So he galloped on, his falcon tightly grasping the
saddle-bow, and he himself turning around every few
minutes, to see if he were followed. But he saw
no horsemen riding after him. The knight's men
had straggled a good deal after they had turned
into the new road, and Louis was not missed for
an hour or two. Then, when his absence was discovered,
the knight sent three men after him, with
instructions to bring him back, or to escort him to
Viteau, in case they found him near that place. It
was supposed, of course, that he had slipped away,
so as to get home as soon as possible.

The men did not like the job at all, for they
feared they would not be able to return until after
dark to the chateau where their party was to spend
the night, and they did not fancy traveling at night
for the sake of a boy they knew very slightly, and
cared very little about. So, after riding five or six
miles, they agreed to halt until nearly night, and
ride back to their party at the top of their speed,
and report that they had overtaken Louis, and had
accompanied him to a spot within sight of his
mother's chateau. This story was believed by the
knight from the south, who had no very clear idea
// 046.png
.bn 046.png
as to the distance of Viteau from the forks of the
road; and no further thought was given to the young
page.

As for Louis, he kept madly on his way. His
horse was strong and fleet, but it was beginning to
flag a little in its pace, when, suddenly, it stopped
short. A tall man stood in front of it, and in a
moment had seized the panting animal by the bridle.
Another man, with a pike in his hand, appeared on
the right, while several others came out from behind
some bushes on the left. The tall man wore a
cuirass, or body-armor, of steel rings linked closely
together, which had probably once been bright and
shining, but which was now very rusty and old.
He wore no other armor, and his clothes seemed
torn and soiled. The whole party, indeed, as Louis,
with open mouth and eyes, glanced quickly around
him,—too much startled to speak,—seemed to be a
very rusty set of fellows.

Louis did not long remain silent. Indeed, he
was the first one to speak. He had often seen
such persons as these among the serfs and varlets
at the castle, and he had been accustomed to respect
from them.

"Ho there!" he cried, "move out of my way.
Step from the road, do you hear? I am going home
to my mother's chateau, and I am in a hurry."
// 047.png
.bn 047.png

"Your mother can wait," said the tall man. "We
should be pleased to have your company ourselves
to-night. So do not be angry. You can not go on."

"I believe," cried Louis, his eyes flashing, although
they were full of tears, "that you are a set of
robbers."

"That is true," said the other, "and this little
man, and this little horse, and this very fine falcon,
are our booty."
// 048.png
.bn 048.png
.pb
.sp 4
.h2
CHAPTER IV.
.sp 2
.dc 0.4 0.7
LOUIS did not submit readily to his captors. At
first he was angry; then he cried, and when some
of the men laughed at him for being a baby he
got angry again, and told them they were a band
of cowards to set upon him in this way,—a dozen
men on one boy,—and that if they wanted to rob
him they might do it and go about their business.
He did not care; he could walk home.

"No, no, my valiant page," said the leader of the
robbers; "we don't want you to walk and we don't
want you to go home. We shall take you with us
now, and we will see about the robbing afterward."

And with this he turned the little horse around,
and led him, by a path which Louis had passed
without noticing it, into the depths of the forest.
On the way, the robber asked his young prisoner a
// 049.png
.bn 049.png
great many questions regarding his family, his connections,
and his present business in riding thus
alone through the forest roads. To these questions
Louis was ready enough to give answer, for it was
not his nature to conceal anything, unless he thought
it absolutely necessary. Indeed, he was quite proud
of the opportunity thus afforded him of talking about
the rank and importance of his mother, and of
dwelling upon the great power and warlike renown
of the nobleman under whom he served.

"They will not let me stay here long, you may
be sure of that," said Louis. "As soon as they
hear that you have carried me off, they will take
me away from you."

"I hope so, indeed," said the robber, laughing;
"and if I had not thought that they would take
you from me, I should not have taken the trouble
to capture you."

"Oh, I know what you mean," said the boy.
"You expect them to ransom me."

"I most certainly do," replied the other.

"But they will not do it," cried Louis. "They
will come with soldiers and take me from you!"

"We shall see," returned the robber.

It was almost dark when, by many winding and
sometimes almost invisible paths through the forest,
the party reached a collection of rude huts, which
// 050.png
.bn 050.png
his capture; but this matter did not enter his mind.
He went to sleep with the feeling that what he
wanted now was a good night's rest, and that, in
some way or other, all would be right on the morrow.

Michol, the captain of the band, was very plain-spoken,
the next morning, in telling Louis his plans
in regard to him. "I know well," he said, "that
your mother is able to pay a handsome ransom for
you, and, if she is so hard-hearted that she will not
do it, I can depend on Barran. He will not let a
page from his castle pine away in these woods, for
the sake of a handful of gold."

"My mother is not hard-hearted," said Louis,
"and I am not going to pine away, no matter how
long you keep me. Do you intend to send to my
mother to-day?"

"Not so soon as that," replied Michol. "I shall
let her have time to feel what a grievous thing it
is to have a son carried away to the heart of the
forest, where she can never find him, and where he
must stay, month after month and year after year,
until she pays his worthy captors what she thinks
the boy is worth."

"I'll tell you what I'll do," said Louis. "If you
will give me my horse and my falcon, which your
men have taken from me, and will let me have
again my dagger, I will go to Viteau, myself, and
// 051.png
.bn 051.png
tell my mother about the ransom; and I promise
you that she will send you all the money she can
afford to spend for me in that way. And, if there
is no one else to bring it,—for our men might be
afraid to venture among so many robbers,—I shall
bring it myself, on my way back to Barran's castle.
I am not afraid to come."

"I am much pleased to hear that, my boy," said
Michol, "but I do not like your plan. When I
am ready, I shall send a messenger, and no one
will be afraid to bring me the money, when everything
is settled. But one thing you can do. If
you have ever learned to write,—and I have heard
that the Countess of Viteau has taught her sons
to be scholars,—you may write a letter to your
mother, and tell her in what a doleful plight you
find yourself, and how necessary it is that she should
send all the money that I ask for. Thus she will
see that you are really my prisoner, and will not
delay to come to your assistance. One of my men,
Jasto, will give you a pen and ink, and something
to write your letter on. You may go, now, and
look for Jasto. You will know him by his torn
clothes and his thirst for knowledge."

"Torn clothes!" said Louis, as he walked away.
"They all have clothes of that kind. And, as for
his thirst for knowledge, I can not see how I am to
// 052.png
.bn 052.png
find out that. I suppose the Captain wanted to
give me something to do, so as to keep me from
troubling him. I am not going to look for any
Jasto. If I could find my horse, and could get a
chance, I should jump on him and gallop away from
these fellows."

Louis wandered about among the huts, peering
here and there for a sight of Agnes's little jennet.
But he saw nothing of him, for the animal had
been taken away to another part of the forest, to
keep company with other stolen horses. And even
if he had been able to mount and ride away unobserved,
it would have been impossible for Louis to
find his way along the devious paths of the forest
to the highway. More than this, although he seemed
to be wandering about in perfect liberty, some of
the men had orders to keep their eyes upon the
boy, and to stop him if he endeavored to penetrate
into the forest.

"Ho, there!" said a man, whom Louis suddenly
met, as he was walking between two of the huts,
"are you looking for anything? What have you
lost?"

"I have lost nothing," said Louis, deeming it
necessary to reply only to the last question.

"I thought you lost your liberty yesterday," said
the other, "and, before that, you must have lost your
// 053.png
.bn 053.png
senses, to be riding alone on a road, walled in for
miles and miles by trees, bushes, and brave <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang>.
But, of course, I did not suppose that you came
here to look for either your liberty or your senses.
What is it you want?"

Louis had no intention of telling the man that he
was looking for his horse, and so, as he felt obliged
to give some answer, he said:

"I was sent to look for Jasto, so that I could
write a letter to my mother."

"Jasto!" exclaimed the man. "Well, my young
page, if you find everything in the world as easily
as you found Jasto, you will do well. I am Jasto.
And do you know how you came to find me?"

"I chanced to meet you," said Louis.

"Not so," said the other. "If I had not been
looking for you, you never would have found me.
Things often happen in that manner. If what we
are looking for does not look for us, we never find
it. But what is this about your mother and a
letter? Sit down here, in this bit of shade, and make
these things plain to me."

Louis accepted this invitation, for the sun was
beginning to be warm, and he sat down by the man,
at the foot of a tree.

"I do not believe you are Jasto," he said, looking
at his companion. "Your clothes are not
// 054.png
.bn 054.png
// 055.png
.bn 055.png
// 056.png
.bn 056.png
torn. I was told to look for a man with torn
clothes."
.if h
.il fn=lol0054.jpg id=lol0054  w=600px
.ca LOUIS FINDS ONE OF THE HIGHWAYMEN A GOOD-NATURED FELLOW.
.if-

.if t
[Illustration: LOUIS FINDS ONE OF THE HIGHWAYMEN A GOOD-NATURED FELLOW.]
.if-

"Torn clothes!" exclaimed the other. "What are
you talking of? Not torn? Why, boy, my clothes
are more torn and are worse torn and have staid
torn longer than the clothes of any man in all our
goodly company. But they have been mended, you
see, and that is what makes them observable among
so many sadly tattered garments."

Louis looked at the coarse jerkin, breeches, and
stockings of the man beside him. They were, certainly,
torn and ripped in many places, and the torn
places were of many curious shapes, as if the wearer
had been making a hurried journey through miles
of bramble bushes; but all the torn places were
carefully mended with bright-red silk thread, which
made them more conspicuous than if they had not
been mended at all.

"I see that they have been torn," said Louis,
"but they are not torn now."

"A great mistake, my good sir page—a great
mistake," said the other; "once torn, always torn.
If my clothes are mended, that but gives them
another quality. Then they have two qualities.
They are torn and they are mended. If one's clothes
are torn, the only way to have clothes that are not
torn is to have new ones. Think of that, boy, and
// 057.png
.bn 057.png
make no rents in yourself nor in your clothes.
Although mending can be done very well," he added,
looking complacently at his breeches, "the evil of it
is, though, that it always shows."

"I could mend better than that," said Louis.

"That is to be hoped; it is truly to be hoped,"
said the other, "for you have had better chances
than I. This red silk, left in our hands by a fair
lady, who was taking it to waste it in embroidery
in some friend's castle, was all the thread I had for
my mending. Now, you could have all things suitable
for your mending, whether of clothes or of
mind or of body, if it should so happen that you
should have rents in any of these. But tell me,
now, about your letter."

"There is nothing to tell," said Louis, "excepting
that your Captain wishes me to write a letter to
my mother, urging her to send good ransom for
me, and that he said you could give me pen and
ink and something to write upon."

"Pen and ink are well enough," said the man,
who, as Louis now believed, was really Jasto, "for
I can make them. But something to write on is a
more difficult matter to find. Paper is too scarce,
and parchment costs too much; and so there is none
of either in this company. But I shall see to it
that you have something to write on when you are
// 058.png
.bn 058.png
ready to write. It strikes me that the chief trouble
will be to put together the three things—the pen
and the ink and the something to write on—in such
a manner as to make a letter of them. Did you
ever write a letter?"

"Not yet. But I know how to do it," said Louis;
and, as he spoke, he remembered how he had promised
his brother to write a letter to him. He was
now going to send a letter to Viteau, but under
what strange circumstances it would be written! If
he were at the castle, Agnes would help him. He
wished he had thought of asking her, weeks ago,
to help him.

"I have written a letter myself," said Jasto, "but
before I had written it I trembled to say I could
do it. And I was a grown man, and had fought
in three battles. But pages are bolder than soldiers.
Would you like to hear about my letter?"

"Indeed I should," said Louis, anxious to listen
to anything which might give him a helping hint
regarding the duty he had taken upon himself.

"Well, then," said Jasto, stretching out his legs,
"I shall tell you about my letter. It was just before——"

"Jasto!" rang out a voice from the opposite side
of the inclosure formed by the huts.

"There!" cried Jasto, jumping to his feet, "that
// 059.png
.bn 059.png
is the Captain. I must go. But you sit still, just
where you are, and when I come back, which will
be shortly, I shall tell you about my letter."
// 060.png
.bn 060.png
.pb
.sp 4
.h2
CHAPTER V.
.sp 2
.dc 0.2 0.7
WE must now go back to the Chateau de Viteau,
and see what has happened there since the
departure of Louis for his new home. Of course,
the boy was greatly missed by his mother and brother,
but Raymond soon found himself so busy that he
had not time enough to grieve very much over the
absence of his old playmate. In order to prepare
himself for the school at Paris he was obliged to
study diligently, and in order that he might make a
good appearance at the house of his cousin, with
whom he was to live, Bernard insisted on his employing
nearly all his leisure time in out-door exercises
and knightly accomplishments. Hawking was
postponed for the present, for, after the loss of Raymond's
falcon was discovered, Bernard declared that
he had not the heart to train another one immediately,
// 061.png
.bn 061.png
even if a good bird could be easily obtained,
which was not the case.

Very little was said about the disappearance of
the falcon. Raymond, his mother, and the squire
each had a suspicion that Louis had had something
to do with it; but no one of them mentioned it to
either of the others. Each hoped the suspicion was
unfounded, and therefore said nothing about it.

While Raymond was busy with his studies and his
manly exercises, the mind of Bernard, even while
giving the boy the benefit of his knowledge of the
management of horses and the use of arms, was
occupied with a very serious matter.

As has been said before, the Countess of Viteau
was one of the very few ladies in France who was
fairly educated, and who took an interest in acquiring
knowledge from books. This disposition, so unusual
at that time, together with her well-known efforts to
have her sons educated, even giving a helping hand
herself whenever she found that she was qualified to
do so, had attracted attention to her, and many
people began to talk about her, as a woman who
gave a great deal of time to useless pursuits. Why
should a lady of her rank—these people said—wish
to read books and study out the meaning of
old manuscripts, as if she were of no higher station
than a poor monk? If there were anything in the
// 062.png
.bn 062.png
books and parchments which she ought to know,
the priests would tell her all about it.

But the Countess thought differently, and she kept
on with her reading, which was almost entirely confined
to religious works, and in this way she gradually
formed some ideas about religious matters which
were somewhat different from those taught at that
time by the Church of Rome, or, at least, from those
taught by the priests about her. She saw no harm
in her opinions, and did not hesitate to speak of
them to the priests who came to the chateau from
a neighboring monastery, and even to argue in favor
of them.

The priests, however, did see harm in the ideas
of the Countess, simply because, in those days, people
had very narrow and bigoted ways of thinking in
regard to religious affairs, and it was generally
thought that any person having an opinion differing,
even very little, from what was taught by the monks
and priests, was doing a wicked thing to persist in
such an opinion after he had been told it was wrong.

For this reason, when the priests who had charge
of the religious services at Viteau found that their
arguments made no impression on the Countess,
who was able to answer them back in such a way
that they could find nothing more to say on their
side of the question, they reported the state of affairs
// 063.png
.bn 063.png
to some of the higher officers of the Church, and,
in due time, a man was sent to Viteau to find out
exactly what its mistress did think, and why she
was so wicked as to think it.

The person who was sent was the Dominican
monk, Brother Anselmo, who was met by the two
boys and Bernard, on the occasion when we first
made their acquaintance. Brother Anselmo was a
quiet-spoken man, making no pretensions to authority
or to superior knowledge; and the Countess
talked with him and answered his questions freely
and unsuspectingly. She knew he was a Dominican,
and she knew he had come to the neighborhood
of Viteau on purpose to talk with her on certain
religious subjects; but this did not surprise her, as
she supposed all good people were just as much
interested in these subjects as she was; but she
had no idea that he was connected with the Inquisition
at Toulouse.

Bernard, the squire, however, knew well who he
was, and it troubled him greatly to know it.

Some weeks after the Dominican had begun to
make his almost daily visits to Viteau, he came,
one day, accompanied by another monk, who did not
enter the grounds, but who remained outside the
little gate, waiting for his companion to return.

Bernard noticed the monk waiting outside, and
// 064.png
.bn 064.png
thinking that this unusual occurrence had something
suspicious about it, he followed Brother Anselmo
when he left the chateau, and, as he rejoined his
fellow monk, the squire slipped quietly up to the
wall and listened to what they said to each other.
In this case, Bernard did not consider that he was
doing a very improper thing. He feared that danger
threatened the household of Viteau, and that these
two monks were the persons through whom the
evil would come. Therefore, he believed that it was
his duty to employ every possible means of averting
this danger; and he listened with all his ears.

What he heard was very little. The two monks
stood silent a few moments, and then the one who
had been waiting said something in a low voice,
which Bernard could not hear. To this Brother
Anselmo answered: "We have done all we can. I
think it is a case for the Holy Inquisition."

And then the two walked off together.

Bernard now knew that his fears were correct.
His beloved mistress, on account of some of her
religious opinions, was in danger of being carried
a prisoner to Toulouse, there to be tried before the
officers of the Inquisition. He had no doubt that
her opinions, whatever they were, were entirely correct,
for he had a great respect for her religious
knowledge, and he felt sure she knew more than
// 065.png
.bn 065.png
the monks who came to the chateau, but he well
understood that, if she should be put on trial, and
if the doctrines she believed to be true were found
to differ, in the least point, from those taught by
the priests, she would be considered guilty of heresy,
and perhaps be put to death.

The squire went away from the wall a very sad
man. He was certain that no one at the chateau
but himself knew of the danger of its mistress, and
he felt that it rested on him to take some immediate
steps to save her, if that were possible.

As he approached the house, Bernard met Raymond,
who was coming to take some lessons from
him in the use of the long sword. The good squire
never threw so much energy and good-will into his
lessons as he did that day.

"If he has to fight for his mother," he said to
himself, "I want him to fight well."
// 066.png
.bn 066.png
.if h
.il fn=lol0066.jpg id=lol0066  w=600px
.ca BERNARD TEACHING RAYMOND THE USE OF THE LONG SWORD.
.if-

.if t
[Illustration: BERNARD TEACHING RAYMOND THE USE OF THE LONG SWORD.]
.if-
// 067.png
.bn 067.png
// 068.png
.bn 068.png
.pb
.sp 4
.h2
CHAPTER VI.
.sp 2
.dc 0.2 0.7
FOR some days after the departure of Louis for
his mother's chateau, none of his friends had the
least idea of his unfortunate situation. At the castle
it was supposed that he was overstaying his time
with his family, and at Viteau no one knew that
he had left the castle. At last, Barran, somewhat
provoked that the boy should so deliberately disobey
his orders,—for he had told him to return promptly,—and
knowing that his mother could always furnish
him an escort, sent messengers to Viteau, demanding
that Louis should immediately come back with them.

This, of course, caused great consternation at the
chateau, and the messengers went hurriedly home,
accompanied by Raymond, to tell the news that
Louis had not yet been seen at his mother's house.

The Countess wished Bernard to go with the
// 069.png
.bn 069.png
messengers, but this he refused to do, urging that
his place could be nowhere else than at Viteau,
and that Raymond could confer as well as any one
else with Barran, regarding the immediate steps
which should be taken to find out what had become
of Louis, and to rescue him from any danger he
might have fallen into.

The Countess spent the time, during Raymond's
absence, in tears and prayers. When he returned,
there came with him a small troop of well-armed
men, which Barran had sent to press on, as rapidly
as possible, to the estates of the knight from the
South, for it had been thought very likely that this
knight had been prevented in some way from stopping
at Viteau, and that he had taken Louis on
with him, intending to send him back at some convenient
opportunity. That the boy should have been
lost, in any way, from the company of the southern
knight, Barran did not consider possible.

This belief of a man so sensible as Barran partially
comforted the Countess; but when the troop
returned, and told how Louis had left the knight's
company to ride on by himself, as none could doubt,
to his mother's house, the poor lady was completely
overwhelmed with grief, and thus she remained until
Barran arrived at Viteau, for which place he started
as soon as he heard the news.
// 070.png
.bn 070.png

Vigorous measures were now taken for a search
after Louis. It was generally agreed that he must
have been captured by robbers, for there was no
other danger which was likely to befall him on the
road; but what robbers had taken him, and to what
place they had conveyed him, were questions not
easy to answer. That a band of <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang> might
then be in the forest, within ten or fifteen miles of
Viteau, was not at all improbable; but to find out
their hiding-place, and, also, to find them in it, would
certainly be difficult tasks. The forests of that time
spread over such a vast extent of country, and were
so dense, and in many places so apparently pathless,
that to find anything so carefully hidden as a robber's
camp would be a matter almost as much of
chance as of skill and design.

Barran privately declared that, if it were not for
the Countess, who seemed almost overcome with
grief, he would quietly wait a few days before
attempting to penetrate the forest with any force;
for he was sure that, if the boy had been captured
by <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang>, their only object was to get a ransom
for him, and that they would soon be heard from.
Under the circumstances, however, Count de Barran
saw that it would be necessary to take immediate
action, and Bernard was very active in pushing
forward the most warlike preparations.
// 071.png
.bn 071.png

Some of these appeared almost ridiculous to the
Count.

"How now, Squire?" he said. "One might think
that we expected the rascals to attack this chateau,
and carry off the other boy. By the plans you lay,
there will be more cross-bows and lances left at
Viteau than we shall carry with us into the forest."

"I should not leave the Countess defenseless, good
Sir Count," replied the squire.

"I know you are a good man and a brave soldier,
Bernard," said Barran, "and as much to be trusted,
in peace or war, as many a knight of good renown;
but this is something too prudent. In these times
the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang>
do not come out of their holes to our
chateaux and castles to carry us away."

Bernard hesitated before making answer to this
speech. He had intended informing Barran of his
recent discoveries in regard to the visits of the
Dominican monk, but he had not thought it well to
speak of the matter now, when the minds of every
one were so occupied with the present great trouble.
However, he knew that it would be necessary to
give the reasons for the peculiar measures he advocated,
and so he said, in a low but impressive tone:

"No, good Sir Count, the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang> do not come
to our houses to carry us away, but the officers of
the Holy Inquisition do."
// 072.png
.bn 072.png

"What means that?" cried Barran, turning pale;
and then, on a warning signal from the squire, he
lowered his voice and continued: "Has the Countess
brought upon herself the censure of the priests, by
her strange ideas about the saints? I have heard
of them. Tell me quickly, is that what you mean?"

The squire bowed his head.

"This is, indeed, grievous," said Barran; "but, surely,
we need have no great fears. Tell me, quickly,
what has happened?"

Then Bernard told all that he feared and all that
he had heard.

Barran was not easily frightened. Indeed, he was
too apt to sneer at things which other people considered
dangerous; but this was such a very serious
matter that it caused him great anxiety and even
fear, when he heard of the peril to which the wife
of his dear old friend was likely to be exposed.

"This must not be allowed," he said. "We can
not suffer that gentle lady to be taken from us by
the Inquisition. Even if she should be found
entirely innocent, which is not likely, the trial itself
is something I cannot think of for a moment. And
yet what is to be done? We can not fight the
Church."

"No, Sir Count," said Bernard, "but I shall be
here, with all the force of men and arms that I can
// 073.png
.bn 073.png
bring together, to defend my lady, and if the Church
fights me, I shall do my best battle."

"And you shall not do battle alone, my good
Bernard," said Barran; "but it may be that we
shall find some better way to avert the evil than
by force of arms, which, indeed, would amount to
very little, I fear me, in the end. But now we must
give our hearts and hands to the finding of this
poor, foolish boy."

Bernard was perfectly willing to give his heart to
the finding of Louis, but he would not give his
hand. Nothing could induce him to leave the
chateau, where he insisted upon being left with a
moderate force of well-armed men.

Barran, with several knights from his castle, for
whom he had sent when he found that there would,
probably, be more work to be done than he had at
first anticipated, set out as soon as possible, at the
head of a large body of followers, some of whom
were expert in all kinds of wood-craft, and as
capable as any men could be of finding out the
paths of beasts or human beings in the depths of
the woods.

The party quickly made its way along the road
down which Louis must have ridden; and, a few
miles below the place where the road forked, turned
into the woods, to the west, and made careful search
// 074.png
.bn 074.png
for paths, or any traces of the passage of men
through the undergrowth. Several well-marked paths
were soon discovered, and along the most promising
of these Barran and his men pushed their way,
sometimes separating, in various directions, and then
coming together again, until they had penetrated far
into the forest.

Unfortunately for the success of their search, the
camp of the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang> was in the woods to the
east of the road. To be sure, the forest, in every
direction, would be searched in time, but if the
Count's party should keep on in the way it was
going, it would be long before it could find the huts
of Captain Michol.

Raymond stayed at the chateau with his mother.
He much wished to join the Count's party in the
search for his brother, but Barran told him that it
was his duty to try to comfort and console the
Countess until Louis should be brought back, and,
therefore, Raymond reluctantly remained at Viteau.
He loved his mother, and was always willing to do
anything that would please or benefit her, but, in
this case, he thought that she, being safe at home,
did not need him nearly so much as his poor
brother, who probably was suffering in captivity, no
one knew where.

On the evening of the second day after the
// 075.png
.bn 075.png
departure of the searching party, Raymond came
down into the grounds of the chateau. His
mother was asleep, and he came out for a little
exercise.

Not far from the house he met the squire.

"Bernard," said Raymond, "I think it is a foolish
thing for you and me and all these men to be
idling here. We might leave my mother with her
ladies, and a man or two, and go, the rest of us,
to help scour the woods to find dear Louis."

Just at this moment, and before Bernard could
answer him, Raymond saw, coming up from the
lower part of the grounds, the Dominican monk,
Brother Anselmo.

"What does that man want, Bernard?" he exclaimed.
"There have been two priests here to-day, to console
my mother in her affliction, and I do not think
another one is needed now, especially not this man,
who does not belong to our monastery and who
keeps himself a stranger to me. My mother is
asleep, and should not be disturbed."

"If she is asleep," said the squire, "she shall not
be disturbed."

He then walked back to the house, closely followed
by Raymond, and stood in the entrance door.
In a few moments the monk appeared, and with a
slight motion of the head, but not a word, stepped
// 076.png
.bn 076.png
forward to pass in. But the squire stood stoutly
before him, and stopped him.

"My lady, the Countess," he said, "is weary and
sick at heart on account of the loss of her young
son. She is sleeping now and can not be disturbed."

"If she is sick at heart," said Brother Anselmo,
"that is the greater reason why I should see her."

"It can not be," said Bernard. "She needs rest,
and no one must disquiet her."

"What right have you, Squire Bernard," said the
monk, "to forbid my entrance? Are you the master
of this house?"

"No," said Raymond, stepping forward, "but I
am, when my mother can not act as its mistress,
and I say that no one shall disturb her this night.
Two priests have been here to-day, and I know she
expects no others."

"Boy," said Brother Anselmo, "stand aside! You
should be chastised for such presumptuous words;
and as for you, Squire, I command you, in the name
of the Church, to let me pass."

"I honor the Church as much as any man," said
Bernard, "but I do not believe that she grants to
her priests the right to ask what they please, in her
name. I might come to be asked for my purse, in
the name of the Church; and that I would not
give up, any more than I shall give up my right
// 077.png
.bn 077.png
to protect my mistress, the Countess, in this, her
first hour of sleep and rest for many days."

Brother Anselmo was very angry. Shaking his
fist at the sturdy squire, he cried:

"Stupid blunderer! You shall see, and that right
soon, what power the Church gives me." And then,
without another word, he turned and walked rapidly
away.

"What does he mean?" asked Raymond. "I greatly
dislike that monk. He is always asking my mother
questions which trouble her much to answer."

Bernard made no reply, but stood for a moment
in deep thought. Then he said to himself: "An
hour to the monastery, and an hour back. There
is yet time, and the plan I think of will be the
better one. I can not trust the men to stand against
the priests. Raymond! Run now, and have your
horse saddled and bridled, and ride out of the upper
gate, and wait for me in the road."

"Why so?" cried Raymond, in surprise. "It is
too late for exercises."

"I can not answer now," said Bernard, hurrying
away. "Be speedy and I will tell you on the road."
.if h
.il fn=lol0078.jpg id=lol0078  w=600px
.ca BROTHER ANSELMO THREATENS BERNARD AND RAYMOND.
.if-

.if t
[Illustration: BROTHER ANSELMO THREATENS BERNARD AND RAYMOND.]
.if-

Raymond, much amazed, but feeling quite sure
that the squire had some good reason for this
strange proceeding, ran to get his horse, while Bernard
ordered the men-at-arms to hastily equip
// 078.png
.bn 078.png
// 079.png
.bn 079.png
// 080.png
.bn 080.png
themselves for an expedition, and to gather together,
mounted, inside the north gate. Then he went
upstairs to the apartments of the Countess, and
asked to speak with one of her ladies. The
Countess, who was only lightly dozing on a couch,
heard the squire's voice, and, instantly rising, called
to him to know what news he brought.

Bernard advanced within the door-way, and in a
hurried voice told his lady that the news he brought
was of great import, but that he must tell it to her
alone. The Countess then desired the ladies who
were with her to retire to another room, and the
squire, in as few words as possible, but very earnestly
and forcibly, told her of her great danger, of
the threats of the Dominican monk, and of the fact
that he had heard, that day, of the arrival of a body
of men, well-armed, at the neighboring monastery.

"In an hour or so," he said, "these men will be
here, I greatly fear me. Raymond is already on the
road, for I wished to spare him this wretched story,
and, if we do not start quickly for Barran's castle,
where you will find present safety, it may happen
that weeks and months may pass before you will
have news of Louis, even if he should be found
to-morrow."

"You mean that I may not be here to meet the
news?" the lady said.
// 081.png
.bn 081.png

Bernard bowed his head. The Countess did not
hesitate, but came to a decision at once.

"I shall be ready," she said, "in a very short
time. Have horses prepared for myself and my
three ladies. We must hasten to Raymond, if he
be alone on the road."

She then called her ladies, and began to make
rapid preparations for the journey.

The horses were scarcely ready when the ladies
made their appearance in the court, and, in a few
minutes, accompanied by Bernard and the men-at-arms,
they rode out of the north gate. An elderly
man, who acted as seneschal, or keeper of the establishment,
was left, with the ordinary servants and
vassals, in charge of the chateau.

Raymond, riding slowly up and down the road,
was soon overtaken, and then the squire, without
entering into explanations, urged his party onward as
swiftly as possible.

"What is the meaning of all this?" cried Raymond,
in great perplexity, riding up to his mother.
"It is stranger than any of the old tales the women
used to tell me."

The Countess was a lady of strong mind and
body, and although the unknown fate of her
younger son had overwhelmed her with grief, this
new peril to her whole family had thoroughly
// 082.png
.bn 082.png
aroused her, and she was riding steadily and swiftly
onward.

"It is a strange tale," she said—"stranger far than
any I thought would ever be told in this fair land;
but I can not tell it to you, my boy, until our
journey's end. Then you shall hear it all."

So Raymond, with the rest, rode on, and he, with
all the others, excepting the squire and his mother,
supposed that this long night-ride had something to
do with the rescue of Louis.
// 083.png
.bn 083.png
.pb
.sp 4
.h2
CHAPTER VII.
.sp 2
.dc 0.4 0.7
LOUIS sat for a long time, in the bit of shade
by the tree, before Jasto returned; but, when
that learned man at last made his appearance, he
merely remarked that the Captain had kept him
longer than he had supposed he would, and, after
that, he had to look for a quill, of which to make
a pen.

"It is not an easy thing to get the right kind of
quill for a pen, you must know," he said, as he took
his seat by Louis, and began to scrape the lower
end of a long quill with a broad, sharp knife which
he took from his belt. "A crow-quill will do very
well, or even a quill from a hawk; but I like a
long one, like this, which came from a heron's wing,
nailed up in one of our houses. And he who
nailed it up never dreamed of the benefit that a
// 084.png
.bn 084.png
quill from that wing would bring to our good
company."

"What benefit?" asked Louis.

"The benefit that comes from the money your
mother will send us when she reads your letter."

"Oh!" said Louis.

"And while I make this pen," continued his
companion, "I shall tell you the story of my letter."

"Yes, indeed," cried Louis; "I should rather have
that than the pen—at least, just now."

"That is a bad choice, for the pen is to give you
liberty, and the story will not do that. However,
there is a lesson in the story, and you shall have
it. It was just before one of the battles between
Queen Blanche and the Duke of Burgundy. I was
a soldier then, in the service of a good knight;
and although I was not his squire, but a simple
man-at-arms, ready to fight on horse or on foot, or
not to fight at all, just as the case might be, still
I was a better man than the squire—for he could
not write, any more than his master could. So, just
before the battle, the knight sent for me, and, said
he, 'Jasto, I have heard that you are a wise fellow
and can write, and I want you to write me a letter.'
He knew I could write, because I had told him so,
and had told all my companions so, for this I found
I must do, otherwise they would never be aware of
// 085.png
.bn 085.png
it; for, not knowing how to write themselves, how
could they comprehend that I knew? 'I want to
send a messenger back to my castle,' said my good
knight, 'and I want him to carry a straight and
fair message, which he can not do if I send it by
word of mouth. So you must write what I wish
to say in a letter to my seneschal, and the messenger
shall carry it.' With that, he showed me a little
piece of parchment that he had with him, and a
phial of ink and a pen, and he bade me sit down
and write what he told me to say. I liked not
this haste, which gave me no time for study and
preparation, and I told him, with due respect, that I
could not write unless I had a table on which to
lay my parchment. Whereupon he made a man
with a cuirass get down on all-fours before me, so
that on this man's steel back I could write as on
a table. My master then told me to write how
that, knowing the enemy would soon reach the spot
where we then lay, and feeling the want of a
stronger force, he desired his seneschal to send him
five more men, and five horses, with arms and all
things needful, and also to send therewith a new
casque which he expected from the armorer, and a
long sword which hung up in the great hall, and
divers other things, of which I wot not now. When
I came to write down all this, I found myself sorely
// 086.png
.bn 086.png
troubled, for you must know that to write a letter
requires a knowledge of many things. One must
know what letters are needed for a word, what
order to put them in, and how to make them.

"Some words need a good many letters, and if
the letters in a word are not the right letters, and
are not set in a befitting order, it will be of no
use for any man, even the most learned scholar, to
try to tell what that word is. So I soon found
that for many of the words I could not remember
the letters, and of those letters I did remember there
were some that I could not make, for I had forgotten
their shape. But I would not tell my master
that, for it would have been a sorrowful thing to
have fallen from my high place as the most learned
person in our company, not to speak of the punishment
I might have expected. So I wrote on,
making the best words I could devise with the
letters at my command, and urging my master to
repeat every sentence, so that I should be sure to
get it straight and fair; and in that way I learned
the whole letter by heart, and read it to him, when
I had finished it, so that he was greatly gratified.
'Let me see the letter, my good Jasto,' said he; and
when he looked at it, he said, 'The words seem
very much like each other'—which was the truth,
indeed, for most of them had the same letters in
// 087.png
.bn 087.png
them, measured out in very much the same measurement.
'But it all looks simple enough,' he went
on to say, 'and I greatly desire that I could read
it, but that is beyond my powers.' And then he
made his mark, which his seneschal well knew, and
the letter was done.

"Thereupon he called for a messenger to take it
in all haste to his castle, but I told him that he
could have no better messenger than I should be,
because, having writ the letter, I could read it to the
person to whom it was sent, if it should so be
that he could not read it himself. 'But old Hubert
can read, else I would not send him a letter,' said
my lord. But I answered that, if he had never
seen my writing, it might be so strange to him that
it would take much time for him to understand the
proper slope and indication of the letters, and so
the re-enforcements might be sorely hindered in their
coming. Therefore it was that I was sent, and I
so saved my life; for, shortly after, the battle came
off, and, if I had been there, I know I should have
been killed, as most of my knight's men were. But
I was safe in the castle, and when I went back
with the men and the horses and the armor, I met
my lord coming to his castle, and right glad was
he to see me with my company, for he was in such
sore plight that he was even afraid of thieves,
// 088.png
.bn 088.png
although there were but few of them to be met
with then, being mostly in the wars. And therefore,
I, being fresh and unwounded, took the lead among
the men-at-arms, and felt high in my lord's favor,
and this was far better than being able to scratch
off a poor letter that could be read."

"But what said the seneschal to your letter?"
asked Louis.

"Oh, nought at all," answered Jasto. "I read it
to him out of my head, and showed him his master's
mark."

"But did you not feel, all the time, that you were
a great trickster and cheat?" said the free-spoken
Louis.

"No more than I do now," answered Jasto,
"coming here to help you with your letter to your
mother, and telling you a story with a moral to it,
showing how arduous a thing it is to write a
letter, so that you may be ready for your difficulties
when they come upon you. And now this pen is
done, and it ought to be, for I have put a score
of nibs to it, and there is not enough quill left for
another one. It may be blunt, but it will make a
mark."

"And what am I to write on?" asked Louis.

"I'll find that and the ink this afternoon," said
Jasto, "but now I smell dinner."
// 089.png
.bn 089.png

In the afternoon, Jasto mixed up a black compound
with some water, so as to make an ink,—rather
thick and gritty, to be sure, but good enough
for its purpose,—and he produced a piece of parchment,
completely written over on one side. This
writing he proceeded to obliterate, as far as possible,
by rubbing it with a piece of pumice-stone.

Louis was impatient, and suggested that he might
mark out the words on one side and go on writing
on the other; but Jasto would not hear to this,
for it would argue too great poverty on the part
of the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang> to send a letter on the back
of another, and so he rubbed and rubbed, and
talked, and came and went, until it was nearly
dark, and so the letter was postponed until the
next day.

On the morrow, however, Jasto refused to produce
the writing materials, because there was to be a
grand expedition of the band, which would require
nearly all the men; and Michol had said that Louis
must be taken along, as he did not wish to leave
him behind, guarded only by the few men who
would stay at the camp.

"That's a pretty way to do!" exclaimed Louis.
"Suppose I should be killed in this expedition,
what will your captain say to my mother then? I
am not afraid to go, but I do not want to be
// 090.png
.bn 090.png
taken for a robber, and be shot with an arrow, or
have my head cut off."

"Be not afraid," said Jasto, laughing. "The
enemy will not hurt you, if you keep out of the
way. You are to be under my special keeping,
and I will warrant that the foe shall not kill you."

Early in the morning, nearly the whole of Captain
Michol's force, some armed with lances, some with
bows and arrows, and others with long knives, or
swords of various descriptions, set out, on foot, for
a march through the forests. Louis went with them,
closely accompanied by Jasto, who never lost sight
of him.

On the way, the good-humored robber, who
seemed to be of a better class than most of his
companions, using more correct language, and behaving
himself better in every way, informed Louis
of the object of the expedition. About eight or ten
miles to the east of the camp of the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang>
there was a chateau, almost as strongly fortified as
a castle, the owner of which possessed a great
number of hogs. These animals, until within a few
days previous, had been confined within close bounds,
for fear that they should be stolen. But as no evil-disposed
persons had been seen for a long time in
the neighborhood, the whole herd had been let out
into the adjacent woods, where they would thrive
// 091.png
.bn 091.png
much better, during the hot weather, than in their
former quarters. Michol had been informed that
these hogs were ranging through the woods, under
the charge of two or three men, and he was now
going to try to capture as many of them as possible.
He took his large force, not because he expected
any opposition from the keepers of the hogs, but
because a great many men would be needed to
surround and capture the animals, many of which
would be lost if the herd should be allowed to
scatter itself through the forest.

As they walked along, Louis thought that it was
a great pity that the first foray he ever set out
upon should be an expedition, in time of peace, to
steal pigs; but he considered it wise not to say
what was in his mind, for it was the business of
these men to steal pigs, or anything else they could
lay their hands on,—even boys and borrowed jennets,—and
they might not fancy his finding fault
with them. He was not afraid of Jasto, with whom
he had become very friendly and communicative;
but many of the other men looked like fellows
whom it would not be at all pleasant to offend.
So he went along with the company, and made no
objections until he had walked five or six miles
through the forest, when he informed Jasto that he
was getting very tired, and that he hoped they
// 092.png
.bn 092.png
would soon come to the end of their journey, so
that he could sit down and rest.

"As for that," said Jasto, "the end of your journey
will soon come, if the signs ahead of us mean
anything. Some of our foremost fellows have come
back, and I think they are telling the Captain that
the herd is not far ahead of us. And if that be
so, it will make our work easier, for the herdsmen
will be far from home and can not call for help.
You and I will not go up to the field of battle,
but will be posted outside, with here and there
another brave fellow, to arrest any of the enemy
who may take to flight in our direction. So keep
up a brave pair of legs for a little while longer,
and then you shall have your rest."

Sure enough, in less than a quarter of an hour
Jasto received orders to wait with Louis, at the end
of a small path through the underbrush, while the
rest of the force spread themselves out widely through
the forest. Before long a great noise of squealing
and shouting was heard in the distance.

"We have come upon them," said Jasto, "and
many a good meal of pork shall we have this year."

"I hope the poor herdsmen are not getting killed,"
said Louis.

"Have no fear for them," replied Jasto; "they will
run away the moment they see one of us. And as
// 093.png
.bn 093.png
they can not bring help, there will be no Christian
blood shed. Look out there! Stand close behind
me! Hear you that?"

Louis plainly heard something rushing through
the bushes, and in a moment a pig, about half-grown,
dashed along the path toward them. When
he saw Jasto, he stopped for an instant, and then
made a rush, endeavoring to
pass him. But the robber
was too quick to allow that,
and he stooped and seized
the scampering porker by the
hind leg. In an instant, Jasto
was jerked upon his back, still
however, holding fast to the
struggling pig.
.if h
.il fn=lol0093.jpg w=562px
.if-

.if t
[Illustration]
.if-
// 094.png
.bn 094.png

Louis shouted in laughter, and he enjoyed the
fun so much that it was some moments before he
considered that the shouting and wriggling Jest
probably wanted his assistance. He then ran up,
and, taking hold of the other hind leg of the prisoner,
enabled Jasto to get up, and to tie the pig's
legs together with a strong cord which he had in
his pocket.

"There, now," cried Jasto, with a very red face,
"the rest of the pork will be ready to cook or salt
down, but this fellow I shall take home to fatten.
He is too lean and lively for good eating now."

In less than half an hour the rest of the company
appeared, walking in a long line, some of the men
bearing each a slaughtered pig, while here and there
two fellows carried a larger animal between them.
Jasto threw his prize across his shoulders, and,
although there was a good deal of struggling on
the part of the pig, his captor held him firmly, and
carried him thus throughout the whole long tramp
back to the camp.

When he reached the huts, Jasto immediately set
to work to make a rude pen of stakes and poles,
in which he shut up his pig, which was to be
thoroughly fattened before sharing the fate of his
brethren who had been slain in the forest.

Louis was a very tired boy when he found himself
// 095.png
.bn 095.png
again in the camp, and he slept until a late hour
the next morning; but, as soon as he had had his
breakfast and felt fully awake, he went to hunt up
Jasto, so that he could begin his letter.

But he found that individual, his well-mended and
red-lined clothes exchanged for an indescribably
wretched suit, busily engaged, with a large portion
of his comrades, in cutting up and curing, in various
ways, the pork which had been brought in the day
before. The band had so much hog-flesh on hand
that they hardly knew what to do with all of it,
and they were so busy for several days that Jasto
had no time to give to Louis and his literary
labors.

But, as soon as the pork business was finished
and Jasto was at liberty, Louis set to work in
earnest to write his letter to his mother.

Jasto prepared the parchment, nearly obliterating
the writing on one side of it, and, the ink and pen
being ready, the work began, and a very important
work it seemed to be. Louis, of course, was anxious
that his first letter to his mother should be a good
one, well spelled and well expressed; Jasto continually
suggested forcible and high-sounding sentences,
containing words which neither Louis nor he could
spell; the Captain came several times to the place
where the writing was going on, to insist on certain
// 096.png
.bn 096.png
terms of ransom being clearly stated; and nearly all
the men in the band straggled up, one or two at
a time, to know how the letter was coming on,
and to hear Louis read what he had already written.
It was a document of great interest to every
one of the robbers, for, if it should succeed in its
purpose, it would bring a large sum of money to
the band.

At last, after much labor and consultation, Louis
finished the letter just as the sun was setting, and
as one of the men called out that the evening meal—which
that day consisted principally of fresh pork—was
ready.

Louis laid his letter, the last words of which were
scarcely dry, upon the ground, putting a stone upon
it to keep it from blowing away, and ran to get
his supper. While he and the rest of the company
were busily eating, Jasto's pig broke out of the pen,
and, seeing the parchment letter under the tree,
devoured it without the slightest hesitation.
// 097.png
.bn 097.png
.pb
.sp 4
.h2
CHAPTER VIII.
.sp 2
.dc 0.2 0.7
WHEN Barran had searched the forest on the
western side of the highway for nearly three
days, and had found no traces of the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang>,
he was obliged to return to Viteau, before entering the
woods to the east, to obtain a fresh supply of provisions.
He was utterly astounded, of course, when
he heard of the flight of the Countess, with nearly
all her household; but he was still more surprised,
and very much alarmed, when the seneschal told him
that, in an hour or so after the departure of the
Countess and her party, the chateau had been visited
by a large body of armed men, accompanied by
several priests, among whom was Brother Anselmo.
These men were admitted because the presence of
the priests was a token that they were friends, but
they behaved very strangely after they entered. One
// 098.png
.bn 098.png
of them demanded to see the Countess, and when
he was told that she had gone away to look for
her son, as the seneschal supposed she had gone,
he ordered the other men to search the chateau
from top to bottom, evidently believing not a word
that was told him.

But after every room and every part of the house
and grounds had been ransacked, and when it was
found that the Countess was really not in the chateau,
and that her ladies, and almost all her attendants,
as well as the horses in her stables, had gone
away, the search was given up, and, after a great
deal of talking among themselves, and a great deal
of severe questioning of the seneschal and the other
servants of the house who had been left behind, the
unpleasant visitors departed.

What they wanted, and why they came, the seneschal
did not know, any more than he knew why
the Countess had left. But Barran was not long in
divining the truth. He felt certain that the men
with the priests were officers of the Inquisition, and
that the Countess had heard of their intended visit,
and had escaped from the chateau. Whether or not
she was then really out of their power, he did not
know; but, as he hoped that her destination was
his own castle, the Count determined to hasten home
as fast as he could.
// 099.png
.bn 099.png

After a brief halt for rest and food, Barran, with
all his men, hastened back to his castle, where, to
his great delight, he found the Countess safe from
her pursuers.

But the relief and satisfaction of the poor lady
at her present security was entirely overbalanced by
the news that her son had not been found. She
was in such grief that Barran had not the heart to
tell her of the visit of the Inquisitors. He assured
her that he would immediately begin the search of
the forests on the other side of the road; but,
before he started the next day, he held an earnest
consultation with Bernard and with Count de Lanne,
who was taken into confidence in this most important
matter, in regard to the measures to be adopted
should the officers of the Inquisition follow the
Countess to the castle.

Nothing was agreed upon, excepting that Bernard
declared that she should never be given up, so long
as life remained in his body; but Barran considered
it necessary that he himself should be at home, in
case the Inquisitors should come to the castle; and
so, after conducting his men to the forest, and
instructing them as to the manner in which they
should proceed, he returned to the castle, where he
remained quietly, without informing the Countess of
his presence.
// 100.png
.bn 100.png

He would have been glad to assist in the search
for Louis, for whose safety he was very anxious,
but he regarded the mother's position as one which
required his personal attention much more than did
that of the son. He would have told her everything,
and have urged her to leave France, if possible; but
he knew she could not be induced to take a step of
the kind until she had seen her son, or had had
definite news of him, and so he deemed it unwise to
say any thing about the Inquisitors as long as he
felt sure that she would go no farther to escape from
them. She asked no questions, for her mind seemed
entirely occupied by the loss of her boy.

She would not allow Raymond to go with the
searching party, for fear she should in some way lose
him also; and this troubled her eldest son greatly
until she told him, as she had promised, of the danger
with which she was threatened, and which had
caused her to leave her home.

This information had a powerful effect upon Raymond.
It seemed to make him several years older.
At first he scarcely could believe that there were
people in the world who could wish to punish his
dear mother for believing what she thought right
about religious matters; but when he heard how so
many persons had been cruelly tried and punished
by the Inquisition for saying and thinking no more
// 101.png
.bn 101.png
than his mother had said and thought, he saw what
peril she was in; and he determined, like Bernard,
that he would never leave her until she should be
safe from all her dangers.
// 102.png
.bn 102.png
.pb
.sp 4
.h2
CHAPTER IX.
.dc 0.2 0.7
WHEN Captain Michol heard of the fate of the
letter,—and there could be no doubt as to
what that fate was, for the pig was found rooting
around the spot where the parchment had been left,
evidently searching for something else good to eat,—he
was very angry. He knew that there was no
more parchment in the camp, nor anything else on
which a proper letter could be written, and he did
not know when or where he could procure any
material of the kind. He had made all his arrangements
to send the letter, which had now been too
long delayed, to Viteau the next day; and this
disappointment enraged him very much. He ordered
Jasto's pig to be instantly slaughtered, and he told
Louis that he would cut off one of his ears and
send that to his mother, and then, if a handsome
// 103.png
.bn 103.png
ransom did not soon arrive, he would cut off the
other one and send it also.

Whether or not the Captain was in earnest in
making this threat is not to be known; but it
frightened Louis greatly, and he determined that the
morning should not find him in the power of a man
who would do such terrible things, and he made up
his mind to escape that night, no matter what might
afterward happen to him.

Accordingly, when Jasto was fast asleep, poor little
Louis slipped quietly past him and made his way
into the forest. He pushed blindly through the
thickets and undergrowth, not knowing in what direction
he was going—only anxious to get away as far
as possible from the cruel Captain. It was very dark,
and he frequently came violently against a tree, or
stumbled over tangled vines and bushes, scratching
his hands and face and bruising his body; but he
still pressed on, wherever he could push himself through
the bushes. When daylight should appear he hoped
to be able to make his way to the high road, and,
once there, he felt sure he could walk to Viteau.

But, after hours of toilsome and painful struggling
through the pathless underbrush, he found that, even
by the increasing light, he could not discover, although
he searched diligently, any sign or indication of a
passage through the thicket. He even climbed a
// 104.png
.bn 104.png
tree, but could see nothing except trees and bushes—the
latter extending, in what seemed like impenetrable
masses, in every direction.

Almost tired to death, he sat down at the foot of
the tree he had climbed, and in a few minutes was
fast asleep. He slept for hours, and it was after noon
when he was awakened by some one laughing very
close to him.

Louis opened his eyes with a start, and there was
Jasto, who at that moment laughed again. The boy
sprang up with a cry, and was about to plunge into
the bushes, but the robber seized him by the arm.

"No, no, my good Sir Page," said Jasto. "Don't
lead me over any more such wretched ways as you
have led me this morning. I've had enough of them."

"Oh, Jasto!" cried Louis, "you are not going to
take me back?"

"I don't know," said the robber, "what I shall do
with you, but I certainly shall not take you back
the way you came. Where you crept under the
bushes, I had to break through them. I never saw
such a fellow for hiding. How do you suppose I
found you?"

"I don't know," said Louis.

"I found you," said Jasto, "by not looking for you.
The rest of our men—and nearly all of them turned
out to search for you, when we found you had run
// 105.png
.bn 105.png
away—scattered themselves about in all directions, to
see if they could catch a glimpse of <i>you</i>. I did
nothing of that kind. I knew that if a boy like you
were to crouch under a thick bush, I could not see
him. So I looked for little bits of blue silk from
a pair of trunk hose, and little shreds of purple cloth
from a tunic that I knew of. I saw a bit of the silk
on some briers when I started out, and I knew I
should find more. I lost your track many times,
but every now and then a bit of rag on a thorn
would encourage me; and so, at last, I came up to
the gallant young page who was marking his way
with pieces of silk and costly cloth. It made me laugh
to think how truly these rags had led me to him."

"I am glad, Jasto," said Louis, "that you found
me, and not one of the other men. I don't believe
you will make me go back to the Captain to have
one of my ears cut off. You will show me the way
to go home, and I promise you, if you will do that,
that my mother will send you a good sum of money,
quite as much as she would have sent to the Captain
if she had got my letter and had ransomed me."

"I am not sure about that," said Jasto, "but I have
been thinking over the matter, and it may be that
I shall not take you back to our camp. I have a
kindly feeling for you, Sir Page. First, because I
think you are a lad of spirit, as I used to be; and
// 106.png
.bn 106.png
second, because my pig ate your letter, and so brought
your trouble on you. Therefore, I feel bounden to
help you out of it. But, if I send you to your
mother, she may forget my sole share in your rescue
and return, and may send the ransom-money to our
company, when it will be so divided and shared,
and measured into parts, that I shall get very little
of it. So I think I shall take you to your mother,
and then I shall get all the ransom myself, and not
be obliged to share it with any one. And I am sure
the good lady, your mother, will give more to him
who brings you back than to him who has merely
carried you away."

"Indeed would she!" cried Louis, more than
delighted at the prospect of being taken directly to
his home.

"Well, then," said Jasto, "take you this piece of
bread, which I put in my pocket before I set out
this morning, and when you have eaten it, you will
be strong enough, mayhap, to go on to your mother's
chateau, though it is still a good distance from here;
and I promise you that I shall not lead you through
such rough ways as you led me. But we must be
careful, for, if we meet any of my good comrades,
there will be an end of our plan."

When Louis had finished eating,—and, coarse and
hard as the bread was, he devoured every morsel,
// 107.png
.bn 107.png
for it was his breakfast and his dinner,—the two started
off for Viteau. Louis supposed that they would
try to reach the main road as soon as possible; but
Jasto assured him that he had no idea of doing that,
for the woods would be occupied, at various points
along the road, by the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang>, who would expect the
fugitive boy to take the highway as soon as he could
find it. Instead of that, Jasto intended to slyly make his
way, through the woods, to the nearest point to Viteau,
and then to strike across the country to the chateau.

Jasto was an expert and experienced woodsman,
and he found paths where Louis would never have
imagined they could exist; and with great care and
caution, and frequent halts for outlook and listening,
he led the boy through the devious mazes of the
forest, without meeting one of his comrades. About
dark they reached the edge of the forest, and then
they cautiously made their way to the chateau, where
they arrived late in the night.

It would be hard to express the consternation of
Louis—and that of Jasto was almost as great—at
finding that the Countess had gone away; that
Barran had been there that day, returning from a
search for his lost page, but had almost immediately
set out for his castle, and that a body of strange
men, accompanied by priests, had been searching the
house for his mother only the night before.
// 108.png
.bn 108.png

Poor Louis, who could not imagine what all this
meant, and who was bewildered and astounded at
seeing the happy home he had always known
deserted by every one excepting the seneschal and a
few servants, desired nothing so much as to go immediately
to his mother. But this Jasto would not have
allowed, had it been possible, for the boy was nearly
exhausted by fatigue and want of food. After some
supper had been prepared for the two travelers, and
Louis had eaten as much as Jasto thought good for
him, the robber accompanied his young companion
to the room he had been used to occupy with his
brother Raymond, and, after seeing him safely in
bed, lay down on the floor across the door-way, and
went to sleep himself. It was evident that he
intended to take good care that Louis should not
leave him this time until he had conducted him
into his mother's presence.

The seneschal was rather surprised at the actions
of this man, who announced himself as a friend to the
boy, and one who had saved him from the robbers
who had captured him; but, as he and Louis seemed
on very friendly terms, the old man made no objection
to anything that Jasto said or did.

In the morning, Louis insisted upon an early start
for Barran's castle; but, although Jasto was now
perfectly willing to go, he was afraid to do so, for
// 109.png
.bn 109.png
there was no other road but the one which led
through the woods, and on that he certainly would be
seen by some of the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang>, who would keep the
road under constant watch. To make his way with
the boy through the woods on the west of the road
would be almost impossible, for he was not familiar
with that part of the forest, and did not know the
paths; and Louis would of a certainty be tired out
long before he could reach the castle, which was
distant almost a day's journey for a horse.

But fortune favored him, for, after he had spent most
of the day in endeavoring to impress these things on
the mind of the impatient Louis, and in making
efforts to find some one who would be willing to go
to the castle and inform the Countess of her son's
arrival at Viteau, there came to the chateau a party
of horsemen who had been sent by Barran to see if
anything had been heard from the boy at his home,
the party in the eastern woods, having, so far, met no
traces of his captors.

The course was now easy enough, and the next
day Barran's men set out for the castle, taking with
them the happy Louis and Jasto, who felt no fear of
capture by his former comrades now that he was
escorted by a body of well-armed men.

The scene at the castle, when Louis arrived was a
joyous one. The Countess forgot all her troubles and
// 110.png
.bn 110.png
fears about herself, in her great happiness for the
return of her son; and even Raymond ceased to
think, for a time, of his mother's danger, so glad was
he to see his dear brother again. Every one at the
castle, indeed, was in a state of great delight, for
Louis was a general favorite, and few persons had
expected to see him again.

Among the most joyful of his welcomers was
Agnes. She listened to his story with the greatest
eagerness, and, when he began to lament that he had
lost her horse, she exclaimed:

"We don't think much about horses, my father and
I, when we are afraid that we have lost boys. It is
easy enough to get another Jennet, and, before many
years, this one would have been too small for me.
Do you think he is in a comfortable place?"

"I don't know," answered Louis. "I did not see
where they took him."

"At any rate," said the girl, promptly, "the thieves
can not ride him in the forest, and so he will not
be worn out by hard work. But we won't talk about
him any more. And your brother's new falcon is
gone, too, I suppose."

"Oh, yes," said Louis, ruefully. "But he will not
grieve about that, for he did not know he was going
to have one. I thought of that a good many times,
when I was among the robbers. If he had been
// 111.png
.bn 111.png
expecting it, things would have been a great deal
worse than they are now."

"Of course he did not expect the bird," said the
girl, "but he knows you have lost it, for everybody
was told that it was to carry him a new falcon that
you left the castle. But he never will scold you for
not bringing it, and so we need not say anything more
about it. But he must wonder that you were bringing
him a falcon; for how could you know he had
none, when you left your mother's house before anything
was said about his bird having been lost? He
must suspect you had something to do with it."

"Of course he does," said poor Louis. "I intended
to tell him all about it when I should give him the
new falcon; but it will be harder to do it now."

"Don't you say a word about it," said Agnes, who
was really a kind-hearted girl, although she liked to
talk about everything that was on her mind. "I'll tell
him myself. It will be easy enough for me to do it,
and I can tell him better than you can, anyway."

She did tell Raymond all about it, dwelling with
much earnestness on Louis's sorrow for his fault, and
his great desire to make amends for it; but she found
that Raymond cared very little about falcons. His
mind was occupied with weightier matters.
.if h
.il fn=lol0112.jpg id=lol0112  w=485px
.ca THE COUNTESS SENT FOR JASTO AND THANKED HIM WARMLY.
.if-

.if t
[Illustration: THE COUNTESS SENT FOR JASTO AND THANKED HIM WARMLY.]
.if-

"Louis is a good fellow and a true one," he said,
"although he often plays wild pranks, and the only
// 112.png
.bn 112.png
// 113.png
.bn 113.png
// 114.png
.bn 114.png
reason I am sorry that he lost my bird is that it
caused him such danger, and all of us such grief."

"I like Louis better than Raymond," said Agnes to
herself. "Raymond talks so much like a man, and
he isn't half so glad as he ought to be, now that his
brother is saved from those dreadful robbers. If I
were in his place, I'd be singing and dancing all the
time."

The Countess sent for Jasto, and thanked him
warmly and earnestly for bringing her son to her,
instead of taking him back to the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang>.

"If I could do it now," she said, "I should reward
you handsomely for what you have done for me;
but, as I left my chateau for this place very suddenly,
I have no money with me. However, as soon as I
shall have opportunity to send for some, I shall more
than pay you for the trouble you have taken. Meantime,
as your conduct shows that you wish to leave
your companions and give up your evil ways, you
can remain here, and I shall see that you receive fair
treatment and are well employed." And then, with a
few more gracious words, she dismissed him.

This was all very pleasant, for the Countess spoke
so sweetly and looked so good that it greatly gratified
Jasto to have her talk to him so kindly, and thank
him for what he had done; but still he was not
satisfied. He had expected to make a regular bargain
// 115.png
.bn 115.png
about a ransom, and hoped that Louis would have
told his mother how much Michol was going to
charge for his return; but he found the boy had never
mentioned the matter, and he did not feel bold
enough, in his first interview with the Countess, to
do it himself. He knew that he would be rewarded,
but he felt sure that a lady would have no idea of
the proper sum to pay for a page's ransom. If the
pig had not eaten the letter her son had written, she
would have been astonished indeed. He would wait,
and, when the proper time came, he would let it be
known that he expected ransom-money just as much
as if he had kept the boy in some secret spot, and
had made his mother send the sum required before
her son was restored to her. Meanwhile, he was
perfectly willing to remain in the service of the
good Countess, and the first thing he asked for was
a suit of clothes not composed of patches sewn
together with bright-red silk. And that he received
without delay.

Now that Louis was safe at the castle, the minds
of the Countess and her friends were occupied with
the great question of her safety. It was not to be
expected that the officers of the Inquisition would
give up their attempts to arrest the lady; and although
Barran's castle and Barran's forces might be strong
enough to hold her securely and to drive back her
// 116.png
.bn 116.png
persecutors, a contest of this kind with the Church
was something not to be desired by the Count nor
by his friends. Barran and Lanne were both of the
opinion that the safest refuge for the Countess would
be England; but a secret journey there would be
full of hardships, and might compel her to give up
all her property, and to be separated from her sons.

It was hard to decide what to do, and at any day
the officers of the Inquisition might appear at the
gates of the castle.
// 117.png
.bn 117.png
.pb
.sp 4
.h2
CHAPTER X.
.dc 0.2 0.7
A FEW days after the arrival of Louis and Jasto
at the castle of Barran, the Countess found it
necessary to send to Viteau for some clothing and
other things which were needed by herself and her
ladies, for they had brought very little with them in
their hasty flight from the chateau.

A trusty squire—not Bernard, for he would not leave
his mistress for so long a time as a day and night—was
sent, with a small, but well-armed body of men,
to convey to the castle the property desired by the
Countess, and to give some orders to the seneschal
in charge. When the party reached the chateau,
early in the evening, the squire was greatly surprised
to find that he could not enter. The gates were all
closed and barred securely, and no answer came to
his calls and shouts to the inmates.

// 118.png
.bn 118.png
.if h
.il fn=lol0118.jpg id=lol0118  w=600px
.ca A SMALL WINDOW WAS OPENED.
.if-
.if t
[Illustration: A SMALL WINDOW WAS OPENED.]
.if-
// 119.png
.bn 119.png
// 120.png
.bn 120.png

At length, a small window in the principal gate was
opened, and a man's head, wearing a helmet with the
visor down, appeared in the square aperture.

"Which of the varlets that we left here are you?"
cried the angry squire. "And what are you doing
with the armor of the Countess on your rascally
head? Did you not know me when I called to you,
and when are you going to open this gate for us?"

"I am not any man's varlet," said the person in the
helmet, "and you did not leave me here. I wear
this helmet because I thought that some of your
impatient men might thrust at me with a spear, or
shoot an arrow at me when I should show my head.
I did not know you when you called, for I never
heard your voice before, and I am not going to open
the gate for you at all."

The squire sat upon his horse, utterly astounded
at this speech, while his men gathered around him,
wondering what strange thing they next would hear.

"Who, then, are you?" cried the squire, when he
had found his voice, "and what are you doing here?"

"I have no objection," said the other, "to make
the acquaintance of any man who wants to know me,
and to tell him what I do, if it be, in any way, his
business. I am Michol, the captain of the good and
true band of <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang> who for some time past have
lived in this forest, near by; and what I am doing here
// 121.png
.bn 121.png
is this: I am dwelling in this goodly chateau, in
peace and comfort, with my men."

The squire turned and looked at his followers.

"What think you," he said, "does all this mean?
Is this a man gone crazed?"

"Not so," said the man with the helmet; "not so,
my good fellow. I may have done crazy deeds in
by-gone days, but this is the most sane thing I ever
did in all my life. If you should care to hear the
whole story, straight and true,—and I should like
much to tell it to you, that you may take it to your
mistress,—come closer and listen."

The squire, anxious enough to hear, rode close
to the gate; the men crowded near him, and Michol,
for it was really the captain of the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang>, told his
story.

"I am going to make this tale a short one," he said,
"so that you can remember it, and tell it clearly, all of
you. When the boy, son of the Countess of Viteau,
was stolen from us——"

"Stolen!" ejaculated the squire.

"Yes," said the other, "that is the word. We
captured the youngster fairly on the road, and held
him for fitting and suitable ransom; and before we
had opportunity to acquaint his friends with his
whereabouts, and with the sum demanded for him, he
was basely stolen by a traitor of our company, and
// 122.png
.bn 122.png
carried away from us, thus cheating us of what was
our fair and just reward."

"Reward!" exclaimed the squire. "Reward for
what?"

"For treating him well and not killing him," said
Michol, coolly. "When I found out the base deed
that had been done to us," he continued, "I gathered
all my men, together with another band of brave
fellows, who gladly joined us, and I came boldly
here to demand the ransom for the boy, and the body
of the wretched villain who stole him away. And
when I found no boy, and no traitor, and no Countess,
and no one in the whole chateau but an old man and
some stupid varlets, I blessed my happy stars, and
took possession of the whole domain. And this I
shall hold, occupy, and defend, until the Countess,
its former mistress, shall send to me one hundred
silver marks, together with the person of the traitor
Jasto. When these shall have been fairly delivered
to me, I shall surrender the chateau, and honorably
depart, with all my men."

"You need expect nothing of that kind," cried the
squire. "Count de Barran and the good knights with
him, when they hear this story, will come down upon
you and drive you out with all your men; and never a
piece of money, gold or silver, will you gain by this deed—unless,
indeed, it shall be such as you shall find here."
// 123.png
.bn 123.png

"I shall have my money," replied Michol; "but
until I hear that my just demands are denied, I shall
break no bars or locks to look for it. My men and
I will live merrily on the good stores of the Countess;
but while we hold this place as warranty for her son's
ransom, we shall not sack or pillage. But if your lord
and his knights should come to drive me out, they
would find more good soldiers here than they can
bring, for in times of peace we are strong, and the
lords of the land are weak, unless, indeed, they keep
retainers and men-at-arms for mere show and ostentation.
My men are well armed, too, for the Count of
Viteau kept his armory well furnished, as became
a valiant knight and a leader of fighting men. So,
therefore, if Barran shall come to give us foul blows,
instead of fair words and just deeds, he will get blow
for blow, and harder blows, methinks, than he can
strike; and if it should be, by strange fortune, that
he drive us out, he would drive us only from the
blazing ruins of this chateau.[A] All this I tell you,
my good squire, that you may tell it to Barran and
the Countess. Think you you will remember it?"

.fn A
Such was the lawlessness of the times, when people had
to rely on themselves for protection and defense, that a deed
like the taking of this chateau would probably meet with no
immediate punishment, unless it were inflicted by the injured
owner or his friends.
.fn-
// 124.png
.bn 124.png

"Indeed will I," said the squire. "Such words can
not easily be forgotten. But then I truly think——"

"No more of that!" interrupted Michol. "I do not
care what you think. Hear, remember, and tell.
That is enough for you in this matter. And, now,
what brought you here? You did not come to bring
word, good or bad, to me?"

"Indeed I did not," said the other, "for I knew not
you were here. I came, at the command of the
Countess of Viteau, to get for her certain garments
and needful goods belonging to herself and ladies,
which she could not, with convenience, take with her
to the castle, but which, I suppose, if your tale be
true, I shall go back without."

"Not so," said Michol. "I war not on fair ladies,
until they themselves declare the war. You shall
come in, and take away what your lady needs. That
is, if you fear not to enter alone."

These words made the squire turn pale. He was
afraid to trust himself, alone, inside the walls of the
chateau court-yard, but he was ashamed to own it—ashamed
that his own men should see his fear, or
that Michol should see it. And so, out of very
cowardice and fear of mockery, he did a thing which
was exceedingly brave, and entered by the wicket in
the gate, which Michol opened for him.

Inside the court and in the chateau, the squire saw,
// 125.png
.bn 125.png
as Michol was very glad to have him see, hundreds
of <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang>, well armed, and in a good state of discipline,
and he felt sure, at last, that the tale he had
been told was true.

The articles he had been sent for were all delivered
to him, and properly packed by Michol's men for
conveyance on the baggage-horses that had been
brought for the purpose. Then the goods were
carried out, and the squire was allowed to depart,
without hurt or hindrance.

Provisions were sent outside the gates for the squire
and his men and horses, and that night they bivouacked
by the roadside.

The next morning they rode back to Barran's castle,
and the squire delivered to the Countess the property
he had been sent for, and told the wonderful tale
that the captain of the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang> had instructed him
to tell.
// 126.png
.bn 126.png
.pb
.sp 4
.h2
CHAPTER XI.
.dc 0.2 0.7
THE news of the occupation of Viteau by a band
of robbers, occasioned, as well might be supposed,
the greatest astonishment at the castle of Barran. At
first, every one, from the Lord of the castle to the
lowest varlet, was loud in favor of an immediate march
upon the scoundrels, with all the force that could be
gathered together on the domain. But after Barran
had held a consultation with the Countess, Hugo de
Lannes, and the very sensible and prudent Bernard, he
determined not to be too hasty in this important
matter. If the story of the squire who had been sent
to Viteau was true,—and there was no reason to
doubt it,—it would require every fighting man on the
estates of the Count de Barran to make up a force
sufficiently strong to compel the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang> to leave
the chateau; and if this force should not be large
// 127.png
.bn 127.png
enough to completely surround and invest the place,
the captain of the robbers might make good his threat
of burning the chateau and retreating to the forest,
which he could probably reach in safety, if the retreat
should be made in the night.

But, even if the Count had been able to raise men
enough to make a successful attack upon the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang>
at Viteau, he did not wish, at this time, to strip his
castle of all its defenders. If it should be concluded
that the Countess should endeavor to escape to England,
a tolerably strong party might be necessary to conduct
her to the coast; and if the officers of the Inquisition
should appear at his gates, he would like to be
there with enough men to compel at least parley and
delay.

It would, also, be difficult to hold the chateau, after
it should be taken, during this serious quarrel with
the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang>. If the lady of Viteau had been at
home, she might have summoned many of her vassals
to her aid, but it was not to be supposed that these
people would willingly risk their lives, and expose
their families to the vengeance of the robbers, to defend
a dwelling which its owner had deserted.

It was, therefore, determined not to attempt, at
present, to disturb the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang> at Viteau, who, as
long as their demand for a ransom for young Louis
was not positively denied, would probably refrain from
// 128.png
.bn 128.png
doing any serious injury to the property. When the
Countess should be in safety, a force could be raised
from some of the estates, and from villages in the
surrounding country, to thoroughly defeat the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang>
and to break up their band. Suitable arrangements
then could be made to hold and defend the chateau
until the Countess or her heirs should come back to
take possession.

What was to be done for the unfortunate mother
of Raymond and Louis, now became again the great
question. Flight to England, which, though a Catholic
country, was not under the power of the Inquisition,
as were France and some of the neighboring countries,
would have been immediately determined upon,
had it not been for the great unwillingness of the
Countess to consent to separate herself from her
sons.

If she should leave France and take her children
with her, her property would probably be taken possession
of by the Church or the Crown; whereas, if
her sons, under a proper guardian, should remain in
France, the estate would be considered to belong to
them, for they had done nothing to make them forfeit
it; and everything could go on as usual, until the
friends of the Countess should have opportunity to
represent the matter to some of the high authorities
of the Church. Then, if she could be released from
// 129.png
.bn 129.png
the prosecution by the Inquisition, she could return
in peace to her home.

On the day after the squire's return from Viteau,
and after it had been decided to leave the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang>
in possession for the present, Raymond and Louis,
with Agnes, were sitting together at a window in one
of the great towers of the castle, talking of the proposed
journey of the Countess; Louis had been told
the reason of her flight from Viteau, and, of course,
Agnes knew all about it.

"If I were the Count de Barran," said Louis, very
much in earnest, "I should never make a lady, like
our mother, run away to England, nor to any other
savage country, to get rid of her enemies. I should
fill this castle with soldiers and knights, and I'd defend
her against everybody, to the last drop of my blood.
Wasn't Barran the brother-in-arms of our father?
And isn't he bound, by all his vows, to protect our
mother, when her husband isn't here on earth to do
it himself?"

"You don't look at things in the right way, Louis,"
said Raymond. "Of course, the Count would defend
our mother against all enemies, for he is a brave and
true knight; but we can not say that the priests and
officers of the Church are our enemies. Now, if Barran
fights the people of the Inquisition, he is fighting
the Church, and no Christian knight wants to do that."
// 130.png
.bn 130.png

"I'd like to know what an enemy is," said Louis,
"If he isn't a person who wants to do you an injury;
and that, it seems to me, is exactly what these Inquisition
people are trying to do to our mother. I shouldn't
care whether they belonged to the Church or not."

"Oh, yes, you would," said Raymond, "if you had
taken the vows of a Christian knight. The Count
will do everything he can to save our mother from
these people, but he will not want to fight and slay
Church officers, and his men-at-arms would not help
him,—I heard Count de Lannes say that,—for whoever
should do such a thing would be excommunicated
by the Pope of Rome, and would be cast out from
all Christian fellowship and all hope of salvation.
Our mother would not let any one fight for her,
when she should know that such things would happen
to him."

"Bernard would fight for her," said Louis; "and so
would I."

"And so would I, as well you know," said his
brother, "and so would the Count and many another
knight, if things came to the worst. They would not
stop to think what would happen afterward. But it
would be a sad thing to do. It would be much better
for our mother to go away, than to put her friends in
such jeopardy of their souls. I have heard all this
talked about, and I know how hard a thing it is for
// 131.png
.bn 131.png
the Count to send our mother away. But one thing
is certain: when she goes, I go with her. I care not
for the domain."

"And I go too!" cried Louis. "Let the robbers
and the priests divide Viteau between them. I will
not let my mother go among the barbarians without
me."

"The English are not barbarians," said Raymond.
"There are plenty of good knights and noble ladies
at the court of King Henry, and all over the land,
too, as I have read."

"I thought they must be savages," said Louis,
"because they have no Inquisition. Surely, if England
were a Christian land like France, there would be an
Inquisition there."

Up to this time Agnes had been silent, eagerly
listening to the conversation of the boys. But now
she spoke:

"Louis and Raymond!" she cried, "I think it will
be an awful, dreadful thing for your poor mother to
go to England; I don't care what sort of a country
it is, or who goes with her. Isn't there somebody
who can make these people stop their wicked doings
without fighting them? Can't the King do it?"

"Of course he can," cried Louis. "The King can
do anything."
.if h
.il fn=lol0132.jpg id=lol0132  w=600px
.ca AGNES TELLS RAYMOND AND LOUIS OF HER PLAN.
.if-

.if t
[Illustration: AGNES TELLS RAYMOND AND LOUIS OF HER PLAN.]
.if-

"Perhaps he can," said Raymond. "I spoke to my
// 132.png
.bn 132.png
// 133.png
.bn 133.png
// 134.png
.bn 134.png
mother about that this morning, and asked her why
Count de Barran did not go to the King and beseech
him to inquire into this matter, and to see why one
of his subjects—as good a Christian as any in the
land—should be so persecuted. She said I spoke too
highly of her——"

"Which you did not," cried Louis.

"Indeed, I did not," continued Raymond. "And
then she told me that the mother of our King, Queen
Blanche, who has more to do with the affairs of France
than her son himself, does not like Barran, who, with
our father, opposed her long with voice and sword, in
the disputes between Burgundy and the Crown. So it
is that he could not go to ask a favor of her son, for
fear that it would do us more harm than good."

"But is he the only person in the world?" cried
Agnes. "Why can't somebody else go? Why don't
you go, Raymond, with Louis—and with me? Let
us all three go! We can tell the King what has
happened, as well as any one, and the Queen-Mother
can not bear a grudge against any of us. Let us go!
My father will not say me nay."

Louis agreed instantly to this glorious plan, and
Raymond, after a moment's thought, gave it a hearty
assent.

"We'll start by the dawn of day to-morrow," cried
Agnes; and away she ran to ask her father if she
// 135.png
.bn 135.png
might mount a horse, and go with Louis and Raymond
to Paris, to see the King.

Strange as it may seem, this wild plan of the children
was received with favor by their elders. Something
must be done immediately, and the Countess must
either leave France, or some powerful aid must be
asked for. Measures had been taken to put the
matter before some of the high officials of the Church,
but it was believed that they would first send for
Brother Anselmo and the priests, and would hear
their story, before interfering for the Countess; and,
therefore, whatever help might be expected in this
direction, would probably be much delayed and come
too late.

But if the King should desire it, the matter would
be instantly investigated, and that was all that the
Countess and her friends intended to ask. They felt
sure that if some one, more competent and less
prejudiced than the two or three monks who had been
incensed by their failure to answer her arguments,
should examine the charges against her, it would be
found that she believed nothing but what was taught
by the fathers of the Church, and believed in by all
good people who had read what the authors had
written.

And who could go with better grace to ask the
help of the King—himself young—than these three
// 136.png
.bn 136.png
young people: two boys who would speak in behalf
of their mother, and the young girl, their friend, who
might be able to talk with the Queen-Mother, if there
should be need of it?

Count Hugo de Lannes readily agreed to take
charge of the young embassadors, if his daughter
should be one of them. He was well known in Paris,
and could give them proper introduction and guarantee
their statements. Thus his assistance would be very
great.

It was agreed that by dawn the next morning, just
as Agnes had said, the party should start for Paris,
and that, until its return, the Countess should postpone
her flight from France.

And many earnest prayers were said that night, that
nothing evil might happen to the Countess while her
two boys should be absent from her.
// 137.png
.bn 137.png
.pb
.sp 4
.h2
CHAPTER XII.
.dc 0.2 0.7
THE cavalcade, which started from the castle early
the next morning, was a gay and lively one, for
everybody seemed to think that it would soon return,
with happy news.

At the head rode Count de Lannes, and, at his
side, Sir Charles de Villars, a younger knight, visiting
at the castle, who had volunteered his services
to help defend the party, should it be attacked on the
way.

Next came the three young people, each mounted
on a small Arabian horse, from the castle stables.
After them came two women, in attendance on Agnes;
and then followed quite a long line of squires, pages,
and men-at-arms, with servants carrying the heavy
armor of the two knights, all mounted and armed.

It was calculated that the journey to Paris would
// 138.png
.bn 138.png
take about four days, if they pressed on as fast as
the strength of the horses and that of the young
riders would permit; and as it was desirable to be
back as soon as possible, they rode away at a good
pace.

Some distance in advance of the whole party were
two men-at-arms, whose duty it was, when passing
through forests, or among rocks and hills, where an
enemy might be concealed, to give timely notice of
any signs of danger. The Count de Lannes did not
expect any attack from robbers, for he felt quite sure
that the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang> who had been in the neighborhood
were all engaged in the occupation of Viteau.

But he did not know as much about the robber
bands of Burgundy as he thought. A short time
before, there had come into the country, between
Barran's castle and Viteau, a company of <lang="fr"><i>brabancois</i></lang>—freebooters
of somewhat higher order than the
<lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang>, who generally preferred to be soldiers rather
than thieves, but who, in times of peace, when no one
would hire them as soldiers, banded together, stopped
travelers on the highway, and robbed and stole whenever
they had a chance. They were generally better
armed and disciplined, and therefore more formidable,
than the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang>, or the <lang="fr"><i>routiers</i></lang>, who were robbers
of a lower order than either of the other two.

These <lang="fr"><i>brabancois</i></lang>, when Michol was making up his
// 139.png
.bn 139.png
force with which to seize and hold the chateau of
Viteau, offered to join him, but he declined their proposition,
believing that he had men enough for his
purpose, and not wishing, in any case, to bring into
the chateau a body of fellows who might, at any time,
refuse to obey his rule, and endeavor to take matters
into their own hands.

The captain of the band of <lang="fr"><i>brabancois</i></lang>, when he
found that he would not be allowed to take part in
the ransom speculation at Viteau, moved up nearer the
castle of Barran, and sent one of his men, dressed like
a common varlet or servant, to take service with the
Count, as an assistant in the stables and among the
horses. In this occupation he would learn of the
intended departure of any party from the castle, and
could give his leader such information as he could
manage to pick up about the road to be taken, and
the strength and richness of the company.

So it was that, on the night of the day on which
the expedition to Paris was determined upon, and
after orders had been given to have the necessary
horses ready early the next morning, this fellow got
away from the castle, and told his captain all he knew
about the party—who were to go and which way they
were going.

It was not likely that the company under the charge
of Count de Lannes would carry much money, or
// 140.png
.bn 140.png
valuable baggage of any sort, and, therefore, the enterprise
of waylaying these people on the road did not
appear very attractive to the leader of the robbers,
until he heard that Louis, and Jasto, who was to go
with the boy as servant, were to be of the party. Then
he took a great interest in the matter. If he could
capture Louis, he could interfere with Michol in getting
the ransom he demanded, and so force himself, in this
way, into partnership with the prudent captain of the
<lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang>; and if he could take Jasto, of whose exploits
he had heard, he felt sure that Michol would pay a
moderate ransom to get possession of that traitor to his
cause and his companions.

Therefore, principally to capture, if possible, these
two important and perhaps profitable personages, the
band of robbers set out before daylight, and took
a good position for their purpose on that road to
Paris.

It was nearly noon when the cavalcade of our friends
entered a wide and lonely forest, where the road was
thickly overgrown, on each side, with bushes and
clambering vines. It was an excellent place for an
ambuscade, and here the <lang="fr"><i>brabancois</i></lang> were ambuscaded.

Count Hugo de Lannes was a prudent man, and he
proceeded slowly, on entering the forest, giving orders
to his scouts to be very careful in looking out for
signs of concealed marauders.
// 141.png
.bn 141.png

He also called up the men who carried the heavy
armor, and he and Sir Charles proceeded to put on
their helmets and their coats of mail, so as to be ready
for anything which might happen during their passage
through the forest.

They were prepared none too soon, for the scouts
came riding back, just as Count Hugo had exchanged
his comfortable cap, or bonnet, for his iron head-covering,
with the news that men were certainly concealed
in the woods some hundred yards ahead.

Quickly the two knights, with the assistance of their
squires, finished putting on their armor, and each
hung his battle-ax at his saddle-bow. Their long
swords they wore at all times when riding. Then
Count Hugo, turning, gave rapid orders for the disposition
of his force.

Part of the men-at-arms, all ready for battle, drew
up before the young travelers, and part took their place
in their rear. On either side of each of the boys, and
of Agnes and her women, rode a soldier in mail,
holding his shield partly over the head of his charge.
Thus each of these non-combatants was protected by
two shields, and by the bodies of two mail-clad men,
from the arrows which might be showered upon them
should a fight take place.

All these arrangements were rapidly made, for the
men of the party were well-trained soldiers, and then
// 142.png
.bn 142.png
Count Hugo and Sir Charles rode forward to see
what they could see.

They saw a good deal more than they expected.
As they went around a slight bend in the road, they
perceived, a short distance ahead, three mounted men
in armor, drawn up across the road. Behind them
were a number of other men, with spears and pikes.
And in the woods, on either side, were a number of
archers, who, though they could not be seen, made
their presence known by a flight of arrows, which
rattled briskly on the armor of our two horsemen,
and then fell harmless to the ground.

If this volley and this brave show of force were
intended to intimidate the travelers, and to cause
them to fall back in confusion, it did not have the
desired effect.

Turning to their squires, who followed close behind
them, the two knights called for their lances, and
when, almost at the same instant, these trusty weapons
were put into their hands, they set them in rest, and,
without a moment's hesitation, charged down upon
the three horsemen.

Count Hugo was an old soldier, and had been in many
a battle, where, fighting on the side of the Crown, he
had met in combat some of the bravest soldiers of
France and many of the finest knights of England,
whom King Henry III. had sent over to aid the
// 143.png
.bn 143.png
provinces which were resisting Queen Blanche; and
Sir Charles, although a younger man, had met and
conquered many a stout knight in battle and in tournament.

Therefore, although the <lang="fr"><i>brabancois</i></lang> horsemen were
good, strong soldiers, and well armed, and although
all three of them put themselves in readiness to
receive the charge of the knights, they could not
withstand or turn aside the well-directed lances of
these veteran warriors, and two of them went down
at the first shock, unhorsed and helpless.

The other man, reining back his horse a little
way, charged furiously on Count Hugo, who was
nearest him; but the latter caught the end of his
lance on his shield, and then, dropping his own lance,
he seized his battle-ax, rose in his stirrups, and
brought the ponderous weapon down upon the ironclad
head of his assailant, with such a tremendous
whang that he rolled him off his horse at the first
crack.

Upon this, both knights were attacked at once by
the spearsmen and other men on foot, but so completely
and strongly were the Count and Sir Charles
clad in their steel mail that their opponents found no
crevice or unguarded spot through which their rapidly
wielded weapons could penetrate.

But the knights gave them little time to try the
// 144.png
.bn 144.png
strength of their armor, for whirling their battle-axes
over their heads, and followed by their squires, they
charged through the whole body of the foot-soldiers,
and then, turning, charged back again, driving the
<lang="fr"><i>brabancois</i></lang> right and left into the woods.

Meantime, all had not been quiet in the rear. The
captain of the robbers, as soon as he had seen the
knights engaged with his picked men, had come out
of the woods with a strong force of his followers on
foot, and had made a vigorous attack on our young
travelers and their attendants.

Here the fighting was general and very lively.
Arrows flew; swords, spears, and shields rattled and
banged against each other; horses reared and plunged;
the women screamed, the men shouted, and Raymond
and Louis drew the small swords they wore, and
struggled hard to throw themselves into the middle
of the fight.

But this was of no use. Their mailed and mounted
guardians pressed them closely on either side, and
protected them from every blow and missile.

Little Agnes was as pale as marble. Every arrow,
as it struck against the shields and armor about her,
made her wink and start, but she sat her horse like a
brave girl, and made no outcry, though her women
filled the air with their screams.

There were so many of the <lang="fr"><i>brabancois</i></lang>, and they
// 145.png
.bn 145.png
directed their attacks with such energy on the one
point, that it seemed for a time as if they certainly
must get possession of one or all of the children.
Three men had pulled aside the horse of Louis's
protector on the left, and others were forcing themselves
between the soldier and the boy, with the
evident intention of dragging the latter from his
horse.

But the fight at the head of the line was over
sooner than the captain of the robbers expected it
would be. His men had scarcely reached Louis's
side when Count Hugo and Sir Charles came
charging back.

Straight down each side of the road they came.
Their own men, seeing them come, drew up in a close
column along the middle of the road, and before the
<lang="fr"><i>brabancois</i></lang> knew what was going to happen, the two
knights were upon them. Standing up in their stirrups,
and dealing tremendous blows with their battle-axes
as they dashed along, they rode into the robbers on
each side of the road, cutting them down, or making
them wildly scatter into the woods. As the knights
passed, some of the men-at-arms left their line and,
rushing into the woods, drove their enemies completely
off the field.
.if h
.il fn=lol0146.jpg id=lol0146  w=600px
.ca SIR HUGO AND SIR CHARLES CHARGE THE ROBBERS.
.if-

.if t
[Illustration: SIR HUGO AND SIR CHARLES CHARGE THE ROBBERS.]
.if-

At least they supposed that this was the case; but,
when Count Hugo and Sir Charles had turned and had
// 146.png
.bn 146.png
// 147.png
.bn 147.png
// 148.png
.bn 148.png
ridden back to the young people and the women, and
were anxiously inquiring if any of them had been
injured during the affray, a cry from Louis directed
everybody's attention to a new fight, which was going
on at the rear of the line.

"Jasto!" cried Louis. "They are taking Jasto!"

The boy had happened to look back, and saw his
friend of the robber-camp, whose horse had been
killed, struggling on foot with four men, one of whom
was the captain of the <lang="fr"><i>brabancois</i></lang>. They were, apparently,
endeavoring to drag him into the bushes; Jasto,
who was a very stout fellow, was holding back manfully,
but the others were too strong for him, and were forcing
him along. No one of the Count's party was near,
except a few men who had charge of the baggage
horses, and these were too busy with their frightened
animals to take any notice of the re-appearance of some
of the robbers.

"Help him!" cried Louis. "Don't let them take Jasto
away!"

Count Hugo turned, as he heard the boy's cry, but
little Agnes was close by his side, trying to get her
arms around his iron neck, and several horsemen were
crowded up near him, so that he could not clearly see
what was going on in the rear. A few of the men-at-arms
saw the affair, and rode toward the scene of the
unequal contest, but Jasto would certainly have been
// 149.png
.bn 149.png
dragged into the thicket before they could have
reached him.

Sir Charles, however, was sitting on his horse, on the
outside of the group around the children, and when he
heard the alarm and saw the struggle, he immediately
galloped to the rear. He did not know who Jasto
was, but he saw that one man was contending with
four others, whom he perceived, by their appearance
and arms, to be members of the robber band. As he
rode, he put his hand on his long sword to draw it, but
he instantly saw that, if he struck at any one in that
twisting and writhing knot of men, he would be as likely
to kill the Count's follower as one of the robbers; and
so he dashed up, and seized Jasto by the collar with his
mailed hand. Then, reining in his horse vigorously, he
suddenly backed. The jerk he gave in this way was
so powerful that it almost pulled Jasto out of the hands
of his captors. He was so far released, indeed, that,
had the right hand of Sir Charles been free, he would
have been able to cut down the robbers.

But as he still held Jasto in his iron grasp, and prepared
to back again, the robber captain, seeing that, in
a moment, his captive would be torn from him, and
infuriated by the idea that he would lose everything,
even the chance of some ransom-money from the
captain of the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang>, drew from his belt a great,
heavy knife, almost as long as a sword and very broad,
// 150.png
.bn 150.png
and with this terrible weapon aimed a blow at Jasto's
head.

"Traitor!" he cried. "If I can't take you, you can
take that!"

But Jasto did not take anything of the kind; for, at the
instant that the robber made the blow, two arrows from
the archers, who were coming up, and who saw that the
only chance of saving Jasto was a quick shot, struck the
robber captain in the side of the head, and the knife
dropped harmlessly by Jasto's side, while the robber fell
back dead. Instantly the other <lang="fr"><i>brabancois</i></lang> took to their
heels, and Sir Charles released the red and panting
Jasto.

"Heigho!" cried the knight. "Surely I cannot mistake
that round face and those stout legs! This must
be Jasto; my old follower and man of learning! Why,
good letter writer, I knew not what had become of you,
and I have often missed you sorely."

Jasto recognized his old master, and, indeed, he had
recognized him as soon as he had seen him in Barran's
castle, but he had not wished to make himself known,
fearing that Sir Charles might interfere in some way
with his plan of demanding a reward for the return of
Louis. Now, he would have spoken, but he was too
much exhausted and out of breath to say a word. He
merely panted and bobbed his head, and tried to look
grateful for his deliverance.
// 151.png
.bn 151.png

"No need of speaking now," said the knight, laughing.
"When the breath comes back into your body, I
will see you again, and hear your story. And, I doubt
not, I shall soon have need to call on you to use your
pen and ink for me. If we stay long in Paris, I surely
shall so need you."

But now orders were given to form into line and
move onward, and Sir Charles galloped up to his place
by Count Hugo. The order of marching was taken
up as before, and the party, leaving the dead and
wounded <lang="fr"><i>brabancois</i></lang> to be cared for by their companions,
who were doubtless hiding in the forest near by,
rode cautiously on until they cleared the woods, and
then they proceeded on their way as rapidly and comfortably
as possible. But few of the men-at-arms had
been wounded, and none seriously.

The two boys and Agnes were in high good spirits as
they galloped along. Agnes was proud of her father's
bravery and warlike deeds, and Raymond and his
brother were as excited and exultant as if they had won
a victory themselves. Louis would have ridden back to
see if his friend Jasto had been injured, but this was not
allowed. He was told that the man was safe and sound,
and had to be satisfied with that assurance.

As for Jasto himself, he rode silently among the
baggage men, having been given a horse captured from
the <lang="fr"><i>brabancois</i></lang>.
// 152.png
.bn 152.png

For once in his life, he was thoroughly ashamed of
himself, and two things weighed upon his mind. In
the midst of his struggles with the robbers, and when
he had felt certain that they would overpower him and
take him back to Michol, by whom he would be cruelly
punished and perhaps slain, he had heard that shrill
young voice calling for help for Jasto.

"And yet," he said to himself, "I am following that
boy about and keeping in his company, solely that I may,
some day, have the chance of claiming pay for freeing
him from the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang>, to which bad company I should
have gone back this day if it had not been for him. For
had he not called for help none would have come to me.
I owe him my freedom now, and as he is worth surely
twice as much as I am, I will charge his friends but half
the sum I had intended. And I shall think about the
other half. But a poor man must not let his gratitude
hinder his fortune. I shall think of that too.

"But as for Sir Charles, who has saved my life to-day,
and who was ever of old a good master to me, I shall
never deceive him more. I shall either tell him boldly
that I can not write a letter any more than he can
himself, or I shall learn to read and write. And that last
is what I shall surely do, if I can find monk or clerk to
teach me and he ask not more pay than I have money."

With these comforting resolutions Jasto's face brightened
up, and raising his head, as if he felt like a man
// 153.png
.bn 153.png
again, he left the company of the baggage, and rode
forward among the men-at-arms.

That night our travelers rested in a village, and the
next day they came to the river Yonne, along the
banks of which their road lay for a great part of the
rest of their journey.

They passed through Sens, a large town, in which
there lived a bishop, to whom their errand might have
been made known had not there been reason to fear
that such an application might injure the cause of the
Countess more than it would benefit it, and then they
crossed the Seine and passed through Melun and several
small towns and villages; and, late in the afternoon of
the fourth day, they rode into Paris, with dusty clothes
and tired horses, but with hearts full of hope.
// 154.png
.bn 154.png
.pb
.sp 4
.h2
CHAPTER XIII.
.dc 0.2 0.7
IT must not be supposed that the officers of the
Inquisition and the monks of the monastery which,
as has been mentioned before, stood a few miles from
Viteau, were all this time ignorant of the fact that,
when the Countess of Viteau fled from her home,
she took refuge in the castle of the Count de
Barran.

It was not many days before this was known at the
monastery. But the officers had returned to Toulouse
to report their failure to secure the person for whom
they had been sent; and the monk who was dispatched
with the information that the Countess had not fled
the country, as was at first supposed, but had taken
refuge within a day's ride of Viteau, had a long journey
to make to the south of France; while the party
which was immediately dispatched by the Inquisition
// 155.png
.bn 155.png
to the castle of Barran had a long journey to make
back to him.

But it finally came, and it was a different party from
that which had been sent before. It was larger; it
contained many more armed men, and it was under
the control of a leader who would not give up the
pursuit of the Countess simply because he should fail
to find her in the first place in which he sought her.

About the time that the Count de Lannes and our
young friends entered Paris, the expedition from the
Inquisition at Toulouse reached the great gate of the
castle of Barran.

This visit threw the Count, and those of his household
who understood its import, into a state of
despair almost as great as if it had not been daily
feared and expected ever since the Countess had come
to the castle.

The Count did not know what to do. He had
thought the matter over and over, but had never been
able to make up his mind as to what his course would
be in case the officers should appear while the Countess
remained in his castle. He felt that he could not
give up this lady, the wife of his old brother-in-arms,
who had come to him for protection; but he could
not fight the company that was now approaching, for
such an act would have been considered the same
thing as fighting Christianity itself.
// 156.png
.bn 156.png

He was in a sad state of anxiety as he went to the
gate to meet, in person, these most unwelcome visitors;
and he wished many times, as he crossed the court-yard,
that he had yielded to his first impulse and had
insisted that the Countess should fly to England while
there was yet time.

All that the Count de Barran could do was to detain
the officers as long as possible at the gate, and to
endeavor to induce them to consent to a friendly
council before taking any steps to arrest the Countess.
If they would do this, he hoped to prevail upon them
to remain at the castle, with the lady really under
their watch and guard, until news should arrive from
Paris.

But the good squire Bernard acted in a very different
way. He did not believe in parleying, nor in
councils. Ever since he had come to the castle he
had expected this visit, and he had always been ready
for it.

In five minutes from the time that he had seen the
officials approaching the castle,—and his sharp eyes
had quickly told him who they were,—the Countess
and her women, the squire himself, and the men-at-arms
who had come with them from Viteau, were in
their saddles; and, leaving the castle by a lower gate,
were galloping along a forest road as fast as their
horses' legs would carry them.
// 157.png
.bn 157.png

The leader of the party from the Inquisition would
not parley, and he would listen to no talk of councils.
He showed his credentials, and demanded instant
entrance; and as soon as he was inside the court-yard,
he posted some of his men at every gate.

If the men at the lower gate had put their ears to
the ground, they might have heard the thud of horses'
feet as the Countess and her party hurried away into
the depths of the forest.

The main body of the officers then entered the
castle, and the leader demanded to be conducted to the
Countess of Viteau. The Count de Barran did not
accompany him and his men as they mounted the
stairs, but, downcast and wretched, he shut himself
in a lower room.

In a very short time, however, the sound of running
footsteps and a general noise and confusion brought
him quickly into the great hall, and there he learned
that the Countess was not in her apartments, and that
the Inquisitors were looking for her all over the castle.
He instantly imagined the truth, and a little inquiry
among his people showed him that he was right, and
that the Countess had been carried off by Bernard.

"A trusty and noble fellow!" said Barran to himself,
almost laughing with delight at this sudden
change in the state of affairs. "But what will he do?
So small a party, unprepared for a long journey, could
// 158.png
.bn 158.png
not get out of the country, and these people here,
as soon as they find that the Countess has really
gone, will make pursuit in every direction. And if
they overtake her it will be all the worse for the poor,
poor lady."

Barran was right. When the Inquisitors had made
a rapid but thorough search of the castle, and when
the angry leader had examined some of the servants
and had become convinced that the Countess had
again fled, almost from under the very hands of her
pursuers, he sent out parties of his horsemen on every
road leading from the castle, with orders to thoroughly
search the surrounding country, and to make all
possible inquiries of persons by whom the fugitives
might have been seen. The leader himself remained
at the castle, to receive reports and to send out fresh
horsemen in any direction which might seem necessary.
It was impossible that a lady like the Countess could
have the strength and endurance to ride so far that
his tough and sturdy men-at-arms could not overtake
her. And if she took refuge in any house, castle, or
cottage, he would be sure to find her.

The party of soldiers which left the lower gate of
the castle and took the road through the forest were
mounted on swift, strong horses, and the Countess and
her company were only a few miles ahead of them.

The squire Bernard did not keep long upon the
// 159.png
.bn 159.png
road he had first taken. He knew that the officers
would probably pursue him this time, and he had seen
that their body was composed of many well-mounted
men. So he felt that he must bring into play, not
only the fleetness of his horses, but his knowledge of
the country, if he hoped to escape the soldiers who
would be sent after him.

Bernard did know the country very well. He had
been born in this part of Burgundy, and had, in youth
and manhood, thoroughly explored these forests, not
only after deer and other game, but in expeditions
with his master and Barran against parties of <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang>
and other thieves who at various times had been
giving trouble in the neighborhood.

About four miles from the castle Bernard turned
sharply to the left, and rode into what, in the rapidly
decreasing daylight, the Countess thought to be the
unbroken forest. But it was in reality a footway wide
enough for a horse and rider, and along this narrow
path, in single file, the party pursued its way almost
as rapidly as on the open road.

They had been riding northward; now they turned
to the west, and in a half hour or so they turned
again, and went southward, through a road which,
though overgrown and apparently disused, was open
and wide enough for most of its length to allow two
persons to ride abreast.

// 160.png
.bn 160.png
.if h
.il fn=lol0160.jpg id=lol0160  w=600px
.ca THE FLIGHT OF THE COUNTESS.
.if-
.if t
[Illustration: THE FLIGHT OF THE COUNTESS.]
.if-
// 161.png
.bn 161.png
// 162.png
.bn 162.png

They went more slowly now, for it was quite dark;
but the squire led the way, and they kept steadily on
all night.

At daybreak they reached what seemed to be the
edge of the wood, and Bernard ordered a halt. Bidding
the rest of the company remain concealed
among the trees, he dismounted and cautiously made
his way out of the forest.

Creeping along for a short distance into the open
country, he mounted a little hill and carefully surveyed
the surrounding fields and plains. Feeling
certain that none of their enemies were near at hand
in the flat country before them, Bernard went back
to the woods, got on his horse, and, turning to the
Countess, he said:

"Now, my lady, we must make a rapid dash, and
in a quarter of an hour we shall be at our journey's
end."

Without a word the Countess—who had put herself
entirely into her faithful squire's care, and who had
found early in the ride that he wished to avoid
answering any questions in regard to their destination—followed
Bernard out of the forest, and the
whole party began a wild gallop across the fields.

For a few minutes they rode in silence, as they had
been riding for the greater part of the night, and then
the Countess suddenly called out:
// 163.png
.bn 163.png

"Bernard! Oh, Bernard! Where are we going?
That is Viteau!"

"Yes," shouted back the squire. "That is Viteau,
and, by your leave, we are going there. For you, it
is the safest place in France."

"But the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang>! The <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang>!" cried the
Countess. "It is filled with those wicked men!"

"I hope it is yet filled with <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang>," cried the
squire, still galloping on; "for it is those fellows who
will make it safe for you. Fear them not, fair lady.
They want only your money, and as long as they
have a good hope of that they will not harm you
nor yield you up to any claimant."

The Countess answered not a word; but very pale,
and trembling a little, she rode on, and in a very
short time the party drew up before the great gate of
Viteau.

"Open!" cried Bernard, "open to the Countess of
Viteau!"

Receiving no immediate answer, Bernard shouted
again:

"Open! Open quickly! It is the lady of this
chateau who asks admittance. She is pursued! Open
quickly!"

There was now heard inside a sound of running
and calling, and in a few minutes the head of Michol
appeared at the window in the gate. Perceiving that
// 164.png
.bn 164.png
his visitors were but three ladies and half a dozen
men, all looking very tired and anxious to enter,
and recognizing Bernard, whom he had seen several
times and with whose position in the household of
Viteau he was quite familiar, he concluded that he
could run no risk, and might do himself much good,
by admitting the little party; and he therefore ordered
the gate to be opened and bade the Countess ride in.

The moment the fugitives had entered the court,
and the gate had been closed behind them, Bernard
sprang from his horse exclaiming:

"Now, at last, I can breathe at ease."

The Countess, although a good deal frightened at
her peculiar situation, could not help smiling at this
speech, considering that they were surrounded by a
great crowd of armed men, known to have in their
number some of the most notorious robbers in the
country, and who were crowding into the court to see
the visitors, although keeping, by command of their
captain, at a respectful distance.

Bernard now approached Michol, and with the
utmost frankness, concealing nothing, he told him all
about the troubles of the Countess and why she had
fled to his protection.

"As your object," said the squire, "is the payment
of the ransom, for which you have taken this chateau
as security, you will not wish to injure that lady by
// 165.png
.bn 165.png
whom you expect the money to be collected and
paid. And, if I mistake not, until the ransom is paid
to you, you will not allow that lady to be taken out
of your possession and keeping."

"You are a shrewd man, and a knowing one," said
Michol, with a smile, "and have judged my temper
well. And yet," he said, lowering his voice, "you
must have terribly feared those Inquisitors, to bring
that lady here."

"Fear them!" said the squire in a voice still lower
than the captain's. "Indeed did I fear them. Do
you know that they would begin her trial with the
torture?"

Even the rough bandit gave a little shudder as he
heard these words, and looked at the gentle lady
before him.

.if h
.il fn=lol0166.jpg id=lol0166  w=600px
.ca MICHOL WELCOMES THE COUNTESS.
.if-
.if t
[Illustration: MICHOL WELCOMES THE COUNTESS.]
.if-

Advancing to her, and removing the steel cap he
wore, he said:

"Fair lady, you are welcome, as far as I have
power to bid you welcome, to this chateau. Your
apartments have not been molested nor disturbed, and
you can take immediate possession of them, with your
attendants. And you may feel assured that here you
may rest in safety from all attacks of enemies of any
sort, unless they come in numbers sufficient to overcome
my men and carry these strong defenses. And
I promise you that when the matters of ransom shall
// 166.png
.bn 166.png
// 167.png
.bn 167.png
// 168.png
.bn 168.png
be settled between us, I and my men will march away
from your estates, leaving no damage nor injury
behind us, excepting your loss of what we have consumed
and used for our support and defense."

"Impudent varlet!" said Bernard to himself. "Your
hungry rascals have fattened on the possessions of
the Countess, and yet you talk in a tone as large and
generous as if you gave to her what was your own."

"Sir," said the Countess to Michol, "I accept your
offer of protection until I receive tidings of some sort
from my lord the King."

"You shall certainly have it, fair dame," said
Michol. "My men and I will never stand and be
robbed, be the robber who he may."

The Countess bowed her head, and, without having
heard all of this remark, rode up to the chateau and
entered with her party.
// 169.png
.bn 169.png
.pb
.sp 4
.h2
CHAPTER XIV.
.dc 0.4 0.7
AS soon as possible on the day after the arrival
of his party in Paris, the Count de Lannes made
arrangements for an interview between his young
ambassadors and the King.

The seneschal of the palace, to whom Count Hugo
was known, gave permission to Raymond, Louis, and
Agnes, with their proper attendants, to seek the young
King in the woods of Vincennes, where, on fine days,
he generally walked with some of his courtiers, after
the daily religious services which he always attended.
In after years, when he managed the affairs of his
kingdom without interference from Queen Blanche,
and managed them, too, in such a way as to win for
himself the reputation of being the most just and
honorable ruler that France or Europe had ever
known, Louis the Ninth used to hold regular audiences
// 170.png
.bn 170.png
in these beautiful woods, where those of his subjects
who desired to petition him or speak with him could
do so with very little ceremony. And even now the
young King generally saw the few persons who asked
audience of him in this place, which was already
becoming his favorite promenade.

Louis, at the time of our story, was about twenty-two
years old, but he had been married at nineteen,
and was crowned when he was but twelve. His
mother, who had been governing the country so long,
still continued to do so, and also governed her son and
his wife, as if they had been small children. She did
not even allow them to see each other, excepting at
such times as she thought fit.

This may have been all very well for the nation,
for Queen Blanche was a wise and energetic woman,
although very bigoted in regard to religious affairs,
but it must have greatly fretted the soul of the young
monarch, whose crown was like an expensive toy
given to a child, but put up on a high shelf, where
he might look at it and call it his own, but must
not touch it.

The Count de Lannes knew of all this, but he
thought it well that his young people should address
themselves to the King, who, being a young person
himself, and of a very kind disposition, would be apt
to sympathize with them and to take an interest in
// 171.png
.bn 171.png
their unusual mission. Not being much occupied
with state or other affairs, it might happen that he
would give his mind to this matter; and if he could
do nothing himself he might interest his mother,
who could do something.

It was a bright and pleasant day when Raymond,
Louis, and Agnes, followed by a lady and a page,
with Jasto a little farther behind, and Count Hugo
and Sir Charles bringing up the rear at quite a distance,
were conducted to the King, who was seated
under a large tree, with three or four of his noble
attendants standing around him.

When the three children approached him, and bent
down on their knees before him, as they had been
told they must do, the King gave them a smile of
welcome, and bade them stand.

"And now, my little friends," he said, "what is it
you would have of me?"

.if h
.il fn=lol0172.jpg id=lol0172  w=600px
.ca AGNES MAKES A PLEA FOR THE MOTHER OF RAYMOND AND LOUIS.
.if-
.if t
[Illustration: AGNES MAKES A PLEA FOR THE MOTHER OF RAYMOND AND LOUIS.]
.if-

Raymond was a straightforward, honest boy, not
backward to speak when he should do so, and it had
been arranged that he should be the spokesman. But
he had never seen a king, even a young one, and his
heart failed him. He looked at Louis, who, though
bold enough, could not think of anything but the
astounding fact, which had suddenly struck upon his
mind, that this king was not old enough to be of any
good to them. He looked as young as some of
// 172.png
.bn 172.png
// 173.png
.bn 173.png
// 174.png
.bn 174.png
the pages at the castle. The silence was a little
embarrassing, and both boys looked at Agnes. She
did not want to speak first, although she doubtless
expected to say something on the subject, but she
presently saw she would have to begin, and so, with
a little flush on her face, she addressed the King:

"May it please you, sire," she said, "we have
come to speak to you about the mother of these two
boys, who is the Countess of Viteau and is in great
trouble. We came to you because, as you are the
King of France, you can have the wicked business
stopped instantly, until some good persons can look
into it; and if we went to any of the bishops or the
people of the Church, they would take a long time
to think about it, and the poor lady might suffer
dreadfully before they would do a thing."

"I should gladly help you, my fair little lady,"
said the young King, with a smile; "but, on my
kingly honor, I can not imagine what you would have
me do. What is the wicked business, and what have
bishops to do with it? Bishops are lofty personages
for such young people as you to deal with."

"They are not so lofty as kings," remarked Louis,
as the thought came into his mind—although,
indeed, he was not impressed with the loftiness of
any king present.

"You are right," said the King. "Some kings are
// 175.png
.bn 175.png
loftier than bishops. But come, one of you, explain
your errand, that I may know how a poor king can
be more expeditious than a great bishop."

As the ice was now broken, and as Raymond knew
that he could tell the story better than either of the
others, he began it, and laid the whole matter, very
clearly and fully, before the King, who listened to the
statement and to the petition for his interference with
much attention and interest.

"It is a sad, sad tale," he said, when he had heard
it all; "but I see not what action the King can take
in a matter which belongs entirely to the Church, and
is subject to the ecclesiastical laws which extend over
France and all Christian countries. In such things,
like my lowest subject, I am but an humble follower
of our holy fathers, who know what is good for our
souls."

"But it is her body, sire," exclaimed Agnes. "Think
how she may suffer before they find out about her
soul! We are not afraid for her soul."

The young King smiled again, although he evidently
did not think it proper to smile about such subjects.

"My fair child," said he, putting his hand on Agnes's
head, "you seem to take this matter as greatly to
heart as if the lady was your own mother."

"My own mother is dead," said Agnes, "and I
fear that I ought to be glad of that, for she, too, was
// 176.png
.bn 176.png
a pious lady, and knew how to read; and all these
things might have been done to her had she lived
to see this day."

The King's face grew serious at this, and he was
silent for a few moments. But presently, turning to
Raymond, he said:

"Then what you would have me do is to request
these proceedings to be stopped, until some learned
and pious man, with mind not prejudiced in this
affair, shall examine into your mother's belief, and
shall see if there be cause or need that she be tried
by the Inquisition?"

"That is all, good sire," said Raymond. "That is
all we ask."

"I will lay this matter before my royal mother,
the Queen," said the King, "for she has far more
knowledge of such subjects, and far more influence
with our clergy, than I have, and I fear me not that
what you desire will be readily obtained. It is a fair
and reasonable request you make, and I am right well
pleased you came to me to make it. So be comforted,
my little friends. I will speak with the Queen this
very day in your behalf."

With this he rose, and with a smile and a little
wave of the hand dismissed his young petitioners.
They were about to step back, when Jasto, who had
been gradually getting nearer and nearer to the
// 177.png
.bn 177.png
central group, so that he had heard all that had been
said, pulled Louis by the end of his doublet, and
whispered in his ear:

"Ask if you shall come again, or if you may go
home with the good news."

Then Louis advanced a little, and spoke up quickly,
asking the question.

"Come to-morrow an hour earlier than this time,"
said the King, who evidently was much interested in
the matter,—the more so, perhaps, because so little
kingly business was submitted to him,—"and you
shall hear exactly what will be done, and who shall
be sent to catechise the Countess." He then walked
away, and the children rejoined their elder companions.

When Sir Charles heard of the suggestion made
by Jasto, he slapped him on the shoulder and said
to him:

"You were always a good fellow, Jasto, with
ideas suitable to the occasion, both to speak and to
write down with ink. Now I shall be able to see this
great city of Paris, which I have not visited for ten
long years."

And with minds relieved, and with the fresh and
eager curiosity of young people who had never seen
a city before, our three friends accompanied Sir
Charles on a sight-seeing tour through Paris. The
// 178.png
.bn 178.png
capital of France was nothing like so large and
wonderful as the Paris of to-day, but it contained,
among other public edifices, that great building, the
Louvre, which still stands, and which was then used, not
only as a residence for the King, but as a prison. There
were also beautiful bridges across the Seine, which
runs through the city; the streets were paved, and
there were shops; there were many people, some
going one way and some another—some attending to
their business, and some taking their ease, with their
families, in front of their houses; gayly dressed
knights were prancing through the streets on their
handsome horses; ladies were gazing from windows;
artisans were at work in their shops, and, altogether,
the sights and delights of the Paris of 1236 produced
upon these three children very much the same effect
that the Paris of 1883 would have produced upon
them had they lived in our day.

A little before the appointed time, the next day,
Raymond, Louis, and Agnes, accompanied as at the
previous interview, were in the woods of Vincennes,
and advanced to the spot where they were to meet
the King.

In about a quarter of an hour, the young monarch
made his appearance, walking quite rapidly, and
followed by several attendants. There was much
less ceremony observed in those days between royal
// 179.png
.bn 179.png
personages and their subjects than at present, and
the King walked straight up to our three friends
and spoke to them.

"I am sorry," he said, "that I have not performed
for you all the good offices which you asked, and
which I should gladly have performed. But the Queen,
who understands these important matters better than
myself, assures me that it would be an action unbefitting
royalty to interfere in this emergency which you
have brought before me. It is a matter with which
the clergy and its appointed institutions have to do,
and with which the King can not meddle without
detriment to Christianity, and to the proper power
and influence of the Church. Whatever ought to
be done, in order that the Countess of Viteau shall
be justly treated in this matter, will, as I am earnestly
assured, be done. And with this," he continued,
after a moment's hesitation, "we ought all to be
satisfied; ought we not? It was to discover the
truth, and to uphold and support good Christians,
that the Inquisition was established, and it is not
fitting that the King or the nobility of France should
doubt or fear the justice of its actions and decisions."

At these words, Agnes burst into tears; Louis,
too, began to sob, and Raymond stood pale and
trembling. Count Hugo and Sir Charles, perceiving
that something unhappy had occurred, drew near their
// 180.png
.bn 180.png
young charges, while the courtiers about the King
exchanged looks of compassion, as they gazed upon
the sorrowful children.

"There is but one thing, then, to do," exclaimed Raymond,
half turning away. "We must fly to England."

"What?" exclaimed the King; "to England! Fly?
What means that?"

"In England," said Louis, his voice half-choked
with tears, "the King does not allow——"

At this point Raymond gave his brother such a
pull by the arm that he instantly stopped speaking,
to turn around and see what was the matter, and then
Raymond spoke:

"My Lord King," he said, "we must now make
our way with our mother to England, because there
we shall be safe from the power of the Inquisition.
It may be that its trials may be just and right, but
we have heard something of the horrible tortures that
its prisoners have to bear, to prove whether they
will tell the truth or not; and, while I live, my
mother, my own dear mother, shall never be dragged
from her home and be made to go through such a
trial. I would kill her first myself."

"And so would I," cried Louis, "if Raymond were
dead!"

"Oh, boys!" exclaimed Agnes, imploringly, "do
not say such horrible things!"
// 181.png
.bn 181.png

The King, apparently, had not heard these latter
remarks. For a moment he seemed in troubled
thought, and then he said, half to himself:

"Can it be that a noble lady, and a pious one, I
doubt not, must flee my dominions, to take refuge
with Henry of England, because, as it appears, she is
persecuted by enemies, and threatened with the rigors
of the Inquisition, which, whatever they be, may
perhaps well frighten the souls of a gentle dame and
these poor children!"

"And they could not certainly save themselves by
flight, sire," said the courtiers, "for the Pope could
doubtless order them to be apprehended and remanded
to these shores."

"Is there, then, no place to which we can fly?"
cried little Agnes. "For I am going, too. Father
and I will go."

The young King made no reply. He stood, silent
and pale. Then, stepping forward a little, his head
held very high, and his eyes sparkling, he said:

"Do not fly to any land. Leave not France. You
are as safe here as in any spot on earth. Go back to
your mother, my brave youth, and tell her that her
own King will protect her from needless molestation,
and will give that opportunity she asks for to show
her true faith and sound belief. I will desire, as a
favor to myself, that the Inquisition shall cease its
// 182.png
.bn 182.png
action against this lady until some wise and learned
members of our clergy, whom I will send to her to
inquire into this matter, shall give their fair and
well-considered opinion of it. And now," said he,
turning to his courtiers, his face flushed with youthful
pride, "I feel more like a king of France than I
ever felt before."
// 183.png
.bn 183.png
.pb
.sp 4
.h2
CHAPTER XV.
.dc 0.2 0.7
THE leader of the officers of the Inquisition was
not long in discovering the retreat of the Countess.
He was greatly assisted by the monks of the monastery
near Viteau, who suspected, from what had been said
by some of the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang> who occasionally found it
necessary to go outside of the chateau court-yard,
that something of importance had occurred at Viteau.
By careful inquiries they soon found out that the
Countess was there, and reported the fact to the chief
officer at his headquarters at Barran's castle.

The Count, on the contrary, did not know where
the Countess of Viteau had gone. She and Bernard
had thought it best not to inform him of her place of
refuge, and Barran had not endeavored to discover
this place, deeming it unsafe for any one in the castle
to know where she was, so long as her pursuers were
// 184.png
.bn 184.png
with him. He knew by the actions of his unwelcome
visitors that she had not been captured, but he never
imagined that she was in her own chateau of Viteau.

Early on the morning of the second day after that
on which Count Hugo and his party started on their
return from Paris, bearing the happy news that the
King had consented to interfere in behalf of the
Countess, and that one or two well-qualified persons
were, as soon as possible, to visit her at the castle
of Barran to give her an opportunity of properly
representing her case, the Inquisitors appeared at
Viteau.

Viteau, although not exactly a castle, was, like all
the residences of the upper classes in those days, a
strongly defended place. It had a wall around the
court-yard, and its numerous towers and turrets and
little balconies were constructed to accommodate and
protect a large number of archers and cross-bow men.

Therefore it was that Robert de Comines, the
leader of the Inquisitorial party, thought it well to
have a strong body of men with him in case it became
necessary to force his way into the chateau.

First posting soldiers at every entrance to the
grounds, Comines marched to the great gate and
demanded admittance. Michol, who had received
notice that a large body of men was approaching, and
who felt quite sure that he knew who they were,
// 185.png
.bn 185.png
gave some orders to his under-officers and hastened
to the gate.

"Who may you be?" said Michol from the window
in the gate, "and why come you here? These gates
open, now, to no visitors, friends or foes."

Comines did not see fit to state the object of his
visit, nor to exhibit his authority, and without answering
Michol's questions, he asked another.

"Are you the captain of the robbers who have
seized upon this chateau?" he said.

"I am the captain of the good and valiant <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang>,
who hold this chateau and its belongings as a warranty
for a just and righteous debt," answered Michol.
"Have you aught to say to me concerning the matter?"

"I have something to say to you," replied Comines,
"which you will do well to hear, and that speedily.
Open the gate and let me enter."

"If you wish to speak with me," answered Michol,
"I am ready to hear what you have to say. But you
need not enter, fair sir. I will come out to you."

"No, no!" cried the other. "I must go in. Open
the gate!"

"That will I, gladly," said Michol, "but it must
be for me to go out and not for you to come in. This
is not my dwelling, nor are these my lands. I meet
my friends and foes in the forest and on the road."

At these words the gates were thrown open, and
// 186.png
.bn 186.png
Michol rushed out, followed by nearly all his men,
who had been closely massed behind him while he
spoke. The <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang> were in such a large and solid
body that they completely filled the gateway and
forced back Comines and his men, who vainly endeavored
to maintain their ground before the gate.

Comines shouted and threatened, and his followers
manfully struggled with the robbers, who surged like
a great wave from the gate; but it was of no use.
Out came the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang>, and backward were forced
Comines's men, until all the robbers, excepting those
who were left to guard the other gates, and some
archers who were posted on certain of the towers,
had rushed into the road, and the gates had been
locked behind them.

The sudden confusion had been so great that, at
first, the two leaders could not find each other. At
length they met in the middle of the road, and the
men of each party disengaged themselves from one
another as rapidly as possible, and gathered in two
confronting bodies, each behind its leader.

"Here am I. What would you have?" said
Michol.

"Thief and leader of thieves!" cried the enraged
Comines. "Do you suppose that I want you! You
shall feel the power of the Church in your own person
for this violence. Know that I am an officer of the
// 187.png
.bn 187.png
Holy Inquisition, with all due authority and warrant
to carry out my purpose, and that I come to apprehend
and take before our high tribunal the person of the
Countess of Viteau, who is behind those walls. Now
that you know my errand, stand back and let me
enter."

"That will I not," said Michol, firmly. "Whatever
your errand and your authority, you come too
late. The Countess of Viteau is now my prisoner.
I hold her and this chateau as security for the payment
of ransom-money justly due me; and I will give her
up to no man until that ransom shall be paid. Whatever
warrant you may have, I know well that you
have none to take from me my prisoner."

"Rascal!" cried Comines, "who would show a warrant
to a thief? Will you open that gate to me?"

"No," said Michol, "I will not."

"Then take that for my authority!" said Comines,
drawing his sword as he spoke, and making a sudden
thrust at the robber leader.

Michol had no sword, but in his right hand he bore
a mace or club with a heavy steel or iron head. This
was a weapon generally used by knights on horseback,
but Michol was a tall, strong fellow, and he
carried it with ease. Stepping quickly aside as Comines
thrust at him, he swung his mace in the air, and
brought it down upon his adversary's head with such
// 188.png
.bn 188.png
rapidity and force that it knocked him senseless to
the ground.

This blow was followed, almost instantly, by a
general conflict. As none of Comines's men were
mounted, their horses having been left at the monastery,
and as they did not number half as many as the
<lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang>,—who were, indeed, in much stronger force
than Comines and the monks had imagined,—the
fight was not a long one. The robbers soon overpowered
their opponents, killing some, causing others
to make a disorderly flight, and taking a number of
prisoners.

The latter were carefully robbed,—not an article
of value, not a weapon, nor piece of armor being left
on their persons,—and then they were set free to
carry away their wounded and dead comrades.

Michol sent a detachment of his men to attack the
soldiers who had been placed outside of the other
entrances to the chateau; and when these had been
routed and the battle-field in front of the great gate
had been cleared of enemies, dead and alive, the
robber captain entered the court-yard with his men,
and the gates were locked and barred behind him.

Bernard, the squire, had been watching the combat
from a high tower.

"I knew," he said to himself, when it was over,
"that this was the only place in France where the
// 189.png
.bn 189.png
Countess would be safe. For none but a pack of
thieves would have dared to fight those who came
to capture her."

The Countess was greatly agitated when she heard
of the affair, for she knew nothing of it until it was
over. She was glad and thankful that her pursuers
had been defeated in their object, but she thought it
was a terrible thing to have had an actual conflict
with them.

Her good squire did his best to make matters look
as well as possible.

"You must remember, my lady," said he, "that
the fight was not within our walls, and that none
of us took part in it. And, I trow, we shall not soon
see again those men from Toulouse; for the leader
of them has been grievously disabled, and it will be
many a day before he will again desire to carry off
anybody."
// 190.png
.bn 190.png
.pb
.sp 4
.h2
CHAPTER XVI.
.dc 0.2 0.7
THE Countess of Viteau now became very anxious to
learn, as soon as possible, the result of her embassy
to the King, and she also wished her sons to know
where she was. She consulted with her squire, Bernard,
in regard to the matter; and they concluded that it
would be better, if the travelers brought bad news,
and the young King had refused to interfere in behalf
of the Countess, that Raymond and Louis should
know the place of her refuge before any of their
party could reach Barran's castle, and that they
should immediately join her, when, with them, she
should fly the country without delay or further consultation
with any one.

She had determined at last that, if she should be
obliged to leave her country, she would take her
boys with her, and let the Count de Barran and her
// 191.png
.bn 191.png
other friends do the best they could in regard to her
estates. She had money enough in her possession to
provide for the expenses of a journey to England,
but she did not consider, when making her plans,
that the captain of the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang> would require his
claims paid before he would let her go. Bernard
thought of this, but he said nothing and hoped for
the best.

Michol also was quite anxious to know what had
been done at Paris, for the news would influence in
a great degree the terms of his demands for ransom
money.

On the day after the attack of Comines had been
repulsed, it was considered that Count de Lannes
and his party might be expected to be nearing the
end of their homeward journey, and it was determined
to send a page, accompanied by one of Michol's men,
to intercept the travelers and to convey a note to
Raymond from his mother.

The main road from Paris through Burgundy ran
within twelve or fifteen miles of Viteau, and Count
Hugo might therefore be met, while yet more than
half a day's journey from the castle.

The page's companion knew all the roads and
by-ways of the surrounding country, and they reached
in good time the high road from Paris, but after
waiting there all day and making inquiries at various
// 192.png
.bn 192.png
cottages near by, they saw nothing and heard no news
of the Count and his company.

After dark they returned to Viteau, as they had
been told to do, for it was known that Count Hugo
would not travel by night, and before daylight the
next morning they set out again.

The long watch of the previous day had wearied
the restless soul of the robber, and he declared to the
page, as they rode along, that they would have another
day to wait upon the dusty highway, for he had been
to Paris and he knew how long it would take the
Count's party to go and return, and that they could
not be reasonably expected that day.

"See you that cottage down there in the little glade
below us?" he said to the page, a little after sunrise.
"There live an old woman and two louts, her sons.
They are poor creatures, but they make wine good
enough to sell; at least, a month or so ago, when I
and a half-dozen of my comrades stopped at their
cottage to eat and rest, that is what they told me they
did with it. We found their wine good to drink,—which
can not be said of all wine that is good enough
to sell,—and we drank many a full horn of it, and
what we did not drink we poured over her floor, so
that her house should smell of good cheer."

"That was a wasteful thing to do," said the page,
"and must have cost you a goodly sum."
// 193.png
.bn 193.png

"Cost us!" laughed the robber. "How could it
cost us anything when we had no money? And
now, look you, we have more time than we shall
know what to do with, and I am going down there
for some wine to cheer us through the day. Ride
you slowly on, and I will overtake you before you
have gone half a mile."

So saying, the robber turned from the road, and
dashed down into the glade. Reaching the cottage,
he tied his horse by the door, and, entering, demanded
of the old woman, who was cooking something over
a little fire, that she should bring him some of her
good wine, and plenty of it, too, for he wanted some
to drink and some to carry away.

The old woman looked at him for a moment, and
then went out and brought a jug of wine and a
drinking-horn.

When the robber had sat down on a rough stool,
and had begun to drink, she went out for some wood
for her fire. But instead of picking up dry sticks,
she ran to a small field where her sons were working.

"Come quickly!" she said. "One of the cowardly
thieves who drank and wasted our wine, a while ago,
and struck me in the face when I asked for pay, is in
the cottage now, drinking and robbing us again.
There were many of them then, and you could do
nothing. Now there is only one. Come quickly!"
// 194.png
.bn 194.png

.if h
.il fn=lol0194.jpg id=lol0194  w=600px
.ca THE ROBBER IN THE OLD WOMAN'S COTTAGE.
.if-
.if t
[Illustration: THE ROBBER IN THE OLD WOMAN'S COTTAGE.]
.if-
// 195.png
.bn 195.png
// 196.png
.bn 196.png

Without a word, the young men, still carrying the
heavy hoes they had been using, ran to the house,
and rushing into the room where the robber was still
seated on his stool, engaged in drinking his second
horn of wine, they attacked him with their hoes.

The <lang="fr"><i>coterel</i></lang> sprang from his seat, and drew the
heavy sword which hung at his belt, but, in an instant,
it was knocked from his hand, and he was belabored
over the head and shoulders by the hoes of the angry
young peasants. If he had not worn an iron cap,
which was his only piece of armor, he probably would
have been killed. As it was, he was glad to plunge
out of the door and run for the woods. The two
young men pursued him, but he was a faster runner
than they, and his legs were not injured. So, wounded
and bruised, and very sorry that he had thought about
the old woman's wine, he left them behind, and disappeared
among the thick undergrowth of the neighboring
forest. His pursuers returned to the cottage
and set loose the robber's horse.

"The wicked thief shall not creep back," they
said, "to do us further injury, and then jump on his
horse and fly."

And they threw stones at the horse until he had
galloped up to the road and out of sight.

The page, who had been urged by his mistress to
lose no time in reaching the high road, for fear that
// 197.png
.bn 197.png
her sons might pass before he got there, rode on and
on, looking back continually for his companion, but
never stopping. Reaching a place where they had
made a short cut, the day before, he tried to find it,
got into the woods and lost his way. A wood-cutter
set him straight, but when he reached the Paris road,
it was long past noon, and he was dreadfully afraid
that Count de Lannes's party had gone by.

Inquiries of some peasants, who lived not far
from the road, made him almost sure that his fears
were correct, for they had noticed two companies of
horsemen go by, and they thought that there were
some young people with one of them. Still, he waited
and watched, and wondered why the <lang="fr"><i>coterel</i></lang> did not
come, until nightfall, and then he set out to return to
Viteau. Without his robber companion,—whom, by
the way, he never saw again, for the fellow was
afraid to return to his captain, having lost his horse,—it
was quite impossible for him to find his way back
in the dark, and in less than an hour he was hopelessly
lost. Finding no wood-cutter, or any one else,
who could show him his way, he wandered about
until he and his horse were tired out, and then they
spent the rest of the night under a tree.

The page was quite right when he supposed that
Count Hugo's party had passed along the high road
before he reached it. The travelers had pressed on
// 198.png
.bn 198.png
vigorously during their homeward journey, and meeting
with no hindrances,—of <lang="fr"><i>brabancois</i></lang>, or anything else,—they
rode into the gates of Barran's castle before
nightfall of the day on which the page had missed
them.

As soon as they had entered the court-yard, the
two boys sprang from their horses and ran to the
great door of the castle. But here they were met
by the Count de Barran, who, with outstretched arms,
stopped them as they were hurrying to their mother's
apartments, and, as gently as he could, told them,—with
Agnes and her father, who had now come
up,—the story of the visit of the Inquisitors and the
flight of the Countess.

The poor boys were almost overcome by this entirely
unlooked-for and dreadful news. They had hurried
back, excited and happy with the good tidings they
were bringing their mother, only to find that she had
utterly disappeared, and no one could tell them
whether she was safe, or had fallen into the hands of
her persecutors. Louis burst into tears, and fell on
the neck of his brother, who folded him in his arms,
and, without a word, the two boys stumbled up the
stairs, and were seen no more that night.

Early the next morning, Raymond and Louis,
still with pale and tear-stained faces, but unable to
remain quiet any longer, came down to the stables,
// 199.png
.bn 199.png
and, ordering two horses to be saddled, mounted them,
and rode away to look for their mother.

If any of their elders had known of their intention,
they would not have been allowed to go. This they
well knew, and so they hurried away before any one but
the servants of the castle was awake. They felt that
they hated the Count de Barran for having let their
mother go away, without knowing where she could be
found or heard from, and they wished to have nothing
more to do with him. And they had come to the belief
that no one but themselves could do anything for their
mother now, and that they must ride the whole world
over until they had found her.

Each was armed with sword and dagger, and they
had some money with them to buy food. As to plans,
they had made only one, and that was to ride so far that
day that Barran would not be likely to find them and
bring them back; and then they would make inquiries,
and come to some decision as to which direction they
should go in their mournful search.

The sun was about two hours' high, and they had
ridden quite a long distance, when they saw coming
toward them on the road a boy upon a horse. In a
moment they recognized their mother's page, and he as
soon knew them. The three young fellows rushed
together, and began clamorously to ask questions. The
page being only one against two was soon obliged to
// 200.png
.bn 200.png
surrender in this question conflict, and to give answers
to his eager young masters.

When Raymond and Louis heard that their mother
was at Viteau, they asked nothing more, but giving a
shout of joy, turned their horses' heads toward their old
home, for they were on a road leading directly thereto,
which the page had at last found.

Onward and onward the three galloped, much to the
weariness of their poor horses, and some hours before
nightfall they reached Viteau, where they were readily
admitted by Michol, who gave Raymond and Louis even
a more eager welcome than that with which he had
opened the gates to their mother.
// 201.png
.bn 201.png
.pb
.sp 4
.h2
CHAPTER XVII.
.dc 0.2 0.7
NOW that he had not only the Countess of Viteau,
but her two sons, under his control and in his
power, Michol became very anxious to settle the matter
of the ransom-money which he intended to demand for
his prisoners, as he considered them.

He set one of his new men, who happened to be a
truer scribe than Jasto, at work to write a carefully-worded
paper, to be sent to Count de Barran, and in it
he stated the terms on which he would release the
Countess and her sons and retire, with his men, from
Viteau.

The Countess, now happy in the possession of her
sons, and having the good news from the King, was very
desirous to start immediately for the castle of the Count
de Barran, where she expected the priests from Paris
would soon arrive. She was greatly surprised and disappointed
// 202.png
.bn 202.png
when she found that Michol would not let her
go until the ransoms had been paid; and the two boys
were very angry, and wanted to go down and demand
that Michol should instantly order the gates to be
opened to them. But their mother restrained them.
They were now in the power of these robbers, and
they must be prudent.

Michol, having understood that the Countess was
not herself prepared to pay any money, had prudently
determined to transact his business with Barran alone.
He was very glad, however, to have her write a letter
requesting the Count to pay the ransoms demanded,
promising to return the money when she again took
charge of her estates and business affairs, and urging
him to use all possible haste in settling the matter with
the captain of the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang>.

This letter, with the one from Michol, was sent to
the Count the day after the arrival of Raymond and
Louis at Viteau, and it gave the people at the castle
the first news of the whereabouts of the Countess,
and also relieved them from the new anxiety caused
by the departure of the boys, for whom search was at
that time being made.

But while these news gladdened the hearts and
relieved the minds of the Count de Barran and his
friends, the terms of Michol's letter vexed them exceedingly,
and threatened to embarrass them very much.
// 203.png
.bn 203.png
The wily robber knew that there were urgent reasons
why the Countess should, as soon as possible, be at
liberty to attend to private affairs, and therefore he
greatly increased the demands he had before determined
to make.

Not only did he require the payment of the amount
originally fixed as the ransom for Louis, but he asked
a very large sum for the release of the Countess; quite
as much for Raymond's ransom; a smaller sum for
Bernard; and a good price for his so-called services in
taking care of the chateau, and protecting its inmates.

Beside all this, he demanded that Jasto, the man
who had deserted him, should be delivered to him for
punishment.

Although Count de Barran was a rich nobleman, the
total amount named in this letter was far more money
than he had in his possession at the time; and far
more, too, than the Countess could afford to repay
him, if he had had it to send to Michol. Still, although
he was very much annoyed and provoked by the impudent
demands of the robber captain, he said that there
was nothing to be done but to accede to them; for the
Countess must be released, and that instantly. Not
only was it positively necessary for her to be at the
castle when the priests from Paris arrived (for it was not
at all likely that they would be willing to go to Viteau
and trust themselves among a gang of thieves), but he
// 204.png
.bn 204.png
was afraid that, if the terms of Michol were resisted,
or even disputed, he might be provoked to do some
injury to the Countess or her sons in order to hasten
the payment of the ransoms. Such conduct was not
uncommon among these thieves. For these reasons,
he would endeavor to raise the money and pay it, as
soon as possible.

Sir Charles was very indignant at that portion of the
letter relating to Jasto. He had been very glad to
regain his old servant, who had left him on account of
a quarrel with a squire, and who, according to his own
account, had been obliged to join the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang> because
he could find nothing else to do; and he stoutly
declared that he would not reward Jasto's good action
in bringing Louis to his mother by delivering him to
the vengeance of the scoundrel, Michol.

As this determination would make it useless to send
the money to Viteau, if Michol insisted on the surrender
of Jasto, Barran sent a message, in great haste, to
the captain of the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang>, to inquire if he would be
willing to take a ransom for Jasto, and also to ask if
he would release the Countess and her company on
the payment of half of the total sum demanded, and
be content to remain at Viteau until the rest should
be paid.

To this Michol sent a very short answer, in which
he declared that he would accept no terms for the
// 205.png
.bn 205.png
release of his prisoners but the delivery of Jasto and
the payment of the entire sum named in his letter.

The messengers who brought this answer also
brought the news of the fight with the Inquisition
people.

Such startling intelligence as this produced a great
effect upon the mind of Barran, as it showed him to
what length the robber captain was willing to go, in
order to secure the possession of his prisoners and the
payment of their ransoms; and he set out that very
day, accompanied by his chief seneschal and other
attendants, to visit some of his estates, and also some
small towns at no great distance, and there endeavor
to collect the money needed. The Jasto question, he
thought, must be settled as best it could be. His safety
must not interfere with that of the Countess.

As for Count Hugo, he would have nothing to do
with this business. He utterly disapproved of paying
the exorbitant sums demanded by Michol, or indeed any
money at all, for the release of a noble lady and her
sons, whom the rascals had no right whatever to hold
or to ask ransom for. If this money should be paid,
he said, it would show all the thieves and outlaws of
the country that the nobles of France were willing to
pay them enormous sums for any ladies and high-born
children that they might steal. Heretofore, they expected
vengeance if they attempted anything of the
// 206.png
.bn 206.png
kind, but now they would expect such deeds to make
them rich. To be sure, this case was a peculiar one;
but never, he declared, as a knight of Christendom,
would he submit to the vile exactions of a common
robber like Michol.

And little Agnes cried, and wandered about moaning,
and wished she was a man. What she would have
done if she had been a man she did not know, but
certainly she could do nothing as a little girl, or even
as a grown-up woman.

Jasto, when he was told what his old master had
said in regard to him, retired into a remote part of
the castle where he could not be easily found, and diligently
occupied his time with some writing materials
which he had brought from Paris.

"I must e'en make haste and learn to be a true
scribe," he said to himself, "for if my master finds me
out, he may be only too willing to toss me into the
jaws of the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang>. So, hard will I work at this
alphabet and this little book of words, and keep a
sharp eye and ear open for any change in Sir Charles's
mind about his good man Jasto. It will be a doughty
man-at-arms and a vigilant who delivers me to Michol."

Not long after the Count de Barran had started on
his money-raising errand, Count Hugo set out on a
little journey to the monastery, a few miles from
Viteau, where the wounded Comines and other disabled
// 207.png
.bn 207.png
members of the Inquisitorial force were said to be
still lying. He wished to find out whether orders had
been received to cease attempts to arrest the Countess,
and also to discover the exact truth, as far as possible,
about the fight with the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang> and the strength
of Michol's forces.

As he was going into what might prove a dangerous
neighborhood, he took with him a body of about
thirty-five horsemen, all completely clad in armor, of
which there were many suits in the castle, and all well
armed. Some of these men were his own retainers,
and others belonged to the retinue of Sir Charles,
who did not accompany his friend, as Count Hugo
thought it well that some knight should remain at
the castle, from which nearly all the visitors had
now departed.

When Count Hugo de Lannes reached the monastery,
he found that Comines was too much injured
to speak or think about the affair in which he had
been engaged, but he learned from the monks that
no recent message had arrived for Comines, and he
also heard how the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang> had robbed him of his
clothes and armor, and had even taken, it was supposed,
all his papers of authority from the Inquisition.

From this information, Count Hugo felt sure that
the Countess need be under no fear of trouble from
the Inquisitors before the message to desist from further
// 208.png
.bn 208.png
action should reach them. Comines, although he had
excellent surgical and medical attention from the
monks, would not recover for some time; and none
of the other members of his party would be likely to
attempt to carry off a noble lady through a great part
of France, without being able to show any warrant
for their proceedings.

It had been late in the day when Count Hugo
arrived at the monastery, and it was quite dark when,
after his party had been furnished with a good supper
by the monks, he took leave of his entertainers.

He did not take the straight road back to the castle,
but struck off toward Viteau. His men traveled
slowly by the light of the stars. Some time before
they reached the chateau, a halt was ordered by a
small wood; and there Count Hugo had a ladder
made.

Two straight young saplings, which were easily
selected by the men, whose eyes were now accustomed
to the dim light, were hewn down for the uprights of
the ladder, and slight notches were cut into them at
suitable distances for the rounds. These were made
of short, strong pieces of other saplings, quickly cut
into proper lengths, and were fastened to the uprights
by strong leathern thongs, of which one of the men
had brought a number tied to his saddle.

When this rude ladder was finished, one horseman
// 209.png
.bn 209.png
took it by one end, another took it by the other, and
the cavalcade proceeded.

Reaching Viteau,—which they did not approach by
the front, but on the southern side,—the horses were
tied at some distance from the court-yard, and left in
charge of several of the soldiers, while the other men,
carrying the ladder, quietly made their way to the
side-wall of the court. There had been a moat on
the outside of this wall, but after the wars were over,
and the Count de Viteau had died, this moat had been
allowed to go dry, and so Count Hugo and his men
were able to walk up to the wall and set their ladder
against it. The Count, with three or four followers,
then got over the wall, and when they were in the
court-yard they cautiously moved toward the great
gate. They encountered no one, for, although the
<lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang> preserved moderately good discipline, they
did not keep a very strict guard at night, expecting no
attack from any quarter.

Arriving at the gate, the Count found there one
sentry fast asleep. This fellow was quickly seized and
bound, with a scarf over his mouth; and the gate
being opened, the remainder of the Count's force,
which had been ordered around to the front, was noiselessly
admitted.

The whole body then proceeded to the chateau,
where a dim light could be seen shining through a
// 210.png
.bn 210.png
wide crack at the door of the principal entrance.
This crack, which was between the edge of the
door and its casement, showed that one bolt was
the only fastening which the robbers had thought it
necessary to use in securing this entrance; and when
the Count had made himself certain of this fact, he
signaled to a tall man who carried a great battle-ax,
apparently brought for use in a case like this, and
motioned to him to use his weapon on the fastening
of the door.

Two tremendous blows, which resounded through
the house, shattered the bolt, and the door was
immediately dashed open.

Count Hugo, who had carefully made all his plans,
rushed in, with four men at his heels, and hurried
up the stair-way which led to the apartments of the
Countess and her sons. There were hanging-lamps
in the halls, and he knew the house quite well.

At the top of the stairs he encountered Bernard,
who slept outside of the door of his mistress's apartments,
and who, aroused by the noise and seeing
five armed men coming up the stairs, had sprung
to his feet and seized his sword, prepared to do his
best for the defense of the Countess and her boys.
But when Count Hugo raised his visor and spoke
to him, the brave but frightened squire immediately
recognized him as a friend.
// 211.png
.bn 211.png

"Stay here!" cried the Count, "with these four
men. Guard the stair-way. Let no one go up or
down!" And, with these words, he dashed alone
down into the great hallway, where the sounds of
fighting and of calls to arms were heard, and threw
himself into the combat that was going on between
his men and a dozen or so of the robbers who had
rushed to the door-way when they heard the noise
of the ax.

But there was not much fighting inside the chateau.
Most of the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang> lodged in the lower part of
the house approached from the outside by various
doors, or in the outhouses and stables, and the court-yard
was now filled with these, hastily armed to repel
the intruders.

The robbers in the hallway were soon forced into
this court-yard, and into the midst of the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang>
Count Hugo, with the whole body of his followers,
now boldly plunged. Such attacks as these, made by
one or two knights with a few attendants against a
much greater force, were very popular in those days
of chivalry. For, whether the rash onslaught were
successful or not, the glory was the same. And if
the safety or honor of a lady happened to be concerned,
the unequal combat was the more attractive
to the knights. For a lady in those days was often
the cause of a knight's fiercest battles and the subject
// 212.png
.bn 212.png
of nearly all his songs. These combats, however,
were not always quite so unequal as they seemed,
for a knight clad from head to foot in armor was
more than equal to three or four soldiers not so
well guarded by steel plates and rings.

The Count's men, as has been said before, each
wore a complete suit of armor, while the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang>,
although much better protected in this way than most
men of their class, were none of them completely
dressed in mail. This, with the darkness of the night
and the suddenness of the combat, gave the attacking
party great advantage.

As they had been instructed, the Count's men
scattered themselves among their opponents, shouting
the battle-cry of De Lannes, and striking furiously
right and left. This gave the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang> the idea that
their enemies were in much greater number than they
really were,—and half a dozen of these mailed warriors
sometimes banding together and rushing through
the throng gave the idea of re-enforcements,—while
the horses outside, hearing the noises of clattering
steel and the cries of the combatants, neighed and
snorted, and their attendants shouted, making the
robbers suppose there were other forces beyond the
walls.

The Countess and her sons were, of course, quickly
aroused by the din and turmoil below, and Raymond
// 213.png
.bn 213.png
and Louis rushed to the door, where they were met
by Bernard, who told them all he knew, and that was
that Count Hugo de Lannes had come to the chateau
with a lot of soldiers and was fighting the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang>.

The Countess knew not what to think of this most
unexpected occurrence, and hastily dressed herself to
be ready for whatever might happen, while the two
boys, throwing on their clothes and seizing their
swords, endeavored to rush down-stairs and join in
the conflict. But this Bernard and the men on the
stair-way prevented, and the boys were obliged to be
contented with listening to the sounds of battle and
with seeing what little they could discern from the
upper windows.

Meanwhile, the struggle raged fiercely below, the
crowd of combatants surging from one side to the
other of the court. It was not long, however, before
the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang> began to be demoralized by the fierce
and wild attacks of their mailed antagonists. Michol
had been killed, and there was no one to command
and rally them. Some of them, being hard pressed
and finding the great gate open, rushed wildly through
and were lost in the outer darkness; and before long
the main body of the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang>, finding that many of
their companions were retreating through the gate,
were seized with a panic and a desire to fly while
they had the opportunity.

// 214.png
.bn 214.png
.if h
.il fn=lol0214.jpg id=lol0214 w=513px
.ca THE ROBBERS IN THE HALLWAY WERE SOON FORCED INTO THE COURT-YARD.
.if-
.if t
[Illustration: THE ROBBERS IN THE HALLWAY WERE SOON FORCED INTO THE COURT-YARD.]
.if-
// 215.png
.bn 215.png
// 216.png
.bn 216.png

A great rush was therefore soon made for the gate,
out of which the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang> pushed and crowded—even
carrying with them in their rush some of the
Count's men who were fighting in their midst.

This flight was precisely what Count Hugo had
wished to bring about. It would have been impossible
for him to conquer and subdue so many men
with his small number of followers. But he had
purposely left the great gate open, and hoped by
this sudden and determined onslaught in the dark
to throw the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang> into disorder, and thus be
able to drive them from the chateau.

Accordingly, he massed his men as quickly as
he could, and, making a circuit of the court, drove
before him every straggling <lang="fr"><i>coterel</i></lang>, and then, following
the retreating robbers through the gates,
pursued their straggling forces through bushes and
fields as far as they could be seen. Then calling
his men together, and ordering the horses to be
brought into the court-yard, Count Hugo hastened
back to the chateau, and the great gate was shut
and bolted behind them. With torch and lantern
every part of the chateau was now searched, and
none of the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang>, excepting the killed and
wounded, having been found therein, the Count pronounced
his victory complete, and proceeded up the
stairs to the apartments of the Countess.
// 217.png
.bn 217.png

Day had now dawned, and the victorious Count
Hugo was received by the boys and their mother
with the greatest thankfulness and delight. Bernard
had already told them of the rout of the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang>,
but they could not understand why the attack had
been made, when they had expected a peaceful
settlement of the affair by the payment of the
ransoms.

But when the Count explained the matter to them,
and told the Countess what an enormous sum the
robber captain had demanded for their release, and
told Louis that the surrender and probable execution
of Jasto was included in the terms, they did
not wonder when he went on to say that his mind
could not endure the idea of submitting to such
outrageous and unjustifiable demands from a common
thief of the roads, and that he had therefore resolved
to strike a bold stroke to give them their
liberty without payment or cowardly submission. It
is true that if this attack had failed the safety of the
Countess and her boys would have been endangered;
but as it did not fail, nothing was said upon this
point.

But the Count gave them little time for thanks
or wonderment. As soon as the necessary preparations
could be made and the signs of conflict
removed from the court-yard, he sent the Countess
// 218.png
.bn 218.png
and her party rejoicing on their way to the castle
of Barran. Although the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang> had not actually
pillaged the chateau, it was impossible for such rude
and disorderly men to live there for any length of
time without causing a good deal of injury to the
house and surroundings, making Viteau an unfit place
for a lady to reside in.

Accordingly, with a few of the Count's men-at-arms
as an escort,—for no danger was now apprehended
on the road,—the Countess went to the
castle, not, as before, flying wildly from her pursuers,
but journeying pleasantly along in company
with her sons and attendants. Bernard, who now
no longer feared to leave his mistress, remained
behind to attend to the renovation and repairs of
the chateau, and to make it fit for the return of
its mistress. None of Count Hugo's men had been
killed and but few injured in the fight, for they
had protected themselves in the darkness from attack
from each other by continually shouting the battle-cry
of De Lannes, and the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang> had not been
able to make much impression upon their heavy
armor.

The Count now determined, with the main body
of his soldiers, to follow up the attack upon the
<lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang>—to penetrate, if possible, to their camp,
and to destroy it entirely, and to drive the remnant
// 219.png
.bn 219.png
of this band of thieves from the forests about
Viteau.

Therefore he also remained at the chateau, which
he intended making his basis of operations in the
projected campaign of extermination against the remaining
<lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang>.
// 220.png
.bn 220.png
.pb
.sp 4
.h2
CHAPTER XVIII.
.dc 0.2 0.7
BARRAN was much delayed in his endeavors to
obtain the money necessary for the ransoms,
and he found a great deal of difficulty in collecting
it at all at such short notice. And wearied with
his unpleasant and annoying task, and with his mind
full of doubts and anxieties regarding the obstacles
and complications that might yet arise from the
probable refusal of Sir Charles to surrender Jasto,
he rode into his castle the day after the arrival of
the Countess.

His astonishment and delight upon finding the
Countess and her family safe within his walls, and
on hearing that Viteau was free from every robber
and in the possession of its rightful owner, and
that for all this no ransom or price of any kind
was to be paid, can well be imagined. And when
// 221.png
.bn 221.png
he and the Countess talked the matter over, it
became evident to the lady that to repay the Count
the sums he intended to advance—which payment
she most certainly would have made—would have
impoverished her for years.

All was now happiness and satisfaction at the castle,
but no one was happier or better satisfied than
the ex-robber, Jasto. Now that his enemy, Michol,
was dead, he felt that his own life was safe; for
it would be no longer necessary to sacrifice
him for the good of others. He sat down in a
corner of the court-yard, and thought the matter
over.

"As to that ransom," he said to himself, "which
was due me for returning the boy Louis to his sorrowing
mother, I must make some proper settlement about
it. Half of it I remitted when the boy saved me
from the hands of the bloody-minded <lang="fr"><i>brabancois</i></lang>, and
one-half of what was left I took off when these good
people gave back to me again my brave and noble
master, Sir Charles. And now that that great knight,
Sir Hugo de Lannes, has killed Michol and saved my
life, I do remit what is left, which is only a quarter of
the whole sum—after all, hardly equal to the benefit
received; for when a man's life is in danger as much
from his friends as his enemies, it is a very great benefit,
indeed, to have it saved. But, as I have no money
// 222.png
.bn 222.png
with which to make up the balance, I will e'en call
the account settled, and so it is."

As Jasto took so much credit to himself for this
generous determination, it was not to be expected he
should keep the matter secret, and he therefore communicated
it to Louis the first time he saw the boy,
giving him in careful detail his reasons for what he
had intended to do, and what he had done.

All this Louis very soon told to his mother; and
the Countess, remembering that she had promised
Jasto a reward, and feeling a little ashamed that it had
passed out of her mind, took the hint which Jasto
had undoubtedly intended to throw out, and sent him
a sum of money which, if used with ordinary economy,
would make it unnecessary for him ever again to wear
a suit of clothes resembling a map of a country with
the counties and departments marked out with borderlines
of red silk.

A week afterward, when Jasto left the castle with
Sir Charles, his education had progressed sufficiently
to enable him, with the assistance of his alphabet and
his little manuscript book, to write a short and simple
message so that it could be read. But he intended to
persevere in his studies until he had become as good
a scribe as his master formerly supposed him to be.

By the aid of some deserters from the band of
<lang=fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang>, who came over to him when they found
// 223.png
.bn 223.png
out his object, Count Hugo soon discovered the encampment
of the robbers, which he utterly destroyed,
and then, following them to their several retreats, succeeded
in breaking up their organization and in driving
them from that part of the country.

He then returned to the castle of Barran, where he
was most warmly welcomed by everybody, and where
his little daughter Agnes was prouder of her brave
father than she had ever been before.

In a few weeks, the Count de Lannes found himself
obliged to return to his own castle, which lay several
days' journey to the west; and he and Agnes took
a regretful leave of all their dear friends, the little
girl shedding tears of heartfelt sorrow as she shook
her handkerchief for the last time to the boys and
their mother, who stood watching her departure from
the battlements.

"I wonder," said Louis, "if we shall ever see them
again."

Nothing was said for a moment, and then his
mother remarked: "I think—that is, I have reason
to believe—that we shall soon see the Count and his
daughter again."

"Why do you think so, mother?" asked Raymond.

The Countess did not answer him immediately, and
just then they were joined by the Count de Barran,
and no more was said on the subject.
// 224.png
.bn 224.png

The Countess did not remain much longer at the
castle. As soon as the squire Bernard had restored
her chateau to its former orderly condition, she bade
good-bye to her kind entertainer and friend, and departed
with her boys for her own home.

Nothing had been heard of the priests who were
to be sent from Paris, but there might be many good
reasons for their delay; and arrangements were made
for a courier to be sent to Viteau as soon as they
should arrive at the castle. The Countess would
have been happy to have had her suspense in regard
to this unfortunate affair set permanently at rest, but
she knew the Inquisitorial party had gone back to
Toulouse as soon as their leader was able to accomplish
the journey; and having been assured of the
protection of her King, she felt safe from unjust
prosecution.

On the morning after their arrival at Viteau, Louis,
who was gladly wandering all about the house and
grounds, went into a little room on the lower floor
which was opposite the sleeping apartment of the
squire Bernard. Here, by the light of a small window
near the ceiling, he saw, upon a perch in one corner
of the room, a falcon, secured by a string which was
tied to its leg. Louis threw the door wide open in
order to get a better light, and narrowly examined
the bird.
// 225.png
.bn 225.png

"Why, Bernard!" he cried to the squire, who just
then entered the room, "this looks exactly like the
falcon I took from this very perch the morning of
the day I first went to De Barran's castle."

"Of course it looks like it," said the squire, "for
it is the same falcon."

"The same falcon!" exclaimed Louis. "And on
the same perch! Why, that is a miracle!"

"It is no miracle at all," answered Bernard; "it is
a very simple thing when you come to know all about
it. After the rascally <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang> had been driven out
of this place, I found the falcon fastened to this perch,
and, by marks I had filed upon his beak, I knew him
for the same bird I had trained for your brother Raymond.
Of course, I was astonished; but, on thinking
the matter over, I supposed that this must be the bird
which the robbers had stolen from you, and that,
bringing it with them when they came here to live,—the
rascally scoundrels!—they naturally put it in this
room, which they could see had been planned and
fitted for the keeping of falcons. Looking into the
matter still further, I asked Orion, the chief falconer
of Count Hugo, who was one of the men he had
brought here with him, what kind of bird it was he
had given to you when the Count desired that you
should have one. Orion then told me it was a falcon
which had come to him only the day before. He had
// 226.png
.bn 226.png
been out hawking with his master, and was bringing
down to him by means of a lure a falcon that had
made an unsuccessful flight, when a strange hawk
made its appearance and also answered his call, and
came down to the lure. Knowing it to be a falcon
which had been lost by some hunter, and to be a
well-trained bird, he seized and hooded it and took it
home with him. The next day, when he was ordered
to give a bird to a boy, he much preferred to part
with this one, which he had just found, to giving
away any of the falcons he had reared and trained
himself. And this is the whole of the matter."

"You may think it a very simple story," said
Louis, "but I think it is wonderful. I am ever so
glad to have the falcon back again; and just think,
Bernard, if it had not been for my losing that bird,
ever so many troubles would not have happened, and
those wicked thieves would never have come to this
chateau!"

The squire agreed that this was true, but he
thought more than he said. He thought that if
Louis's kind heart had not been anxious to repair the
injury done his brother, he would not have been
captured by the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang>; and that, if he had not
been captured by the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang>, no ransom would
have been demanded for him; and if no ransom had
been demanded, the robbers never would have seized
// 227.png
.bn 227.png
upon Viteau to enforce their claims; and if they had
not been at Viteau, there would have been no place
of refuge for the Countess when flying from the
Inquisitors; and that, instead of the happiness which
was now so general at the chateau, all might have
been misery. But he said nothing of this to
Louis, for he thought it not right that boys should
take to themselves too much credit for what they
might do.

But although contentment seemed to reign at
Viteau, this was not really the case. True, the chateau
had been completely renovated, and all traces
of its occupation by the <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang> had been removed;
but the Countess could not forget that it had been
the abode of thieves, and that bloody and violent
deeds had so lately taken place before its gates and
within its very court-yard. Then, too, she felt that
she must soon be separated from her boys. Raymond
must go to school at Paris, and Louis must return
to his duties as the page of the Count de Barran.
And this separation seemed a very different thing to
her now from what it did before these troubles came
upon her.

Louis was particularly discontented. "I do not
want to go back to Barran," he said to his brother.
"I do not believe he is a true knight."

"What!" cried Raymond, in surprise. "You
// 228.png
.bn 228.png
should not speak thus, Louis. No man has ever said
such a thing of the Count de Barran."

"I suppose not," said Louis, "but I am a boy, and
I can say it. He stood still and did nothing when
our mother had to fly for her life from his castle;
and he wanted to buy us away from the thieves,
instead of coming and taking us boldly, as a true
knight should. Count Hugo is a different kind of a
knight."

"But you should not forget," said Raymond, "how
kind and generous the Count de Barran has always
been to us. He worked in his own way for our
mother's good."

"Oh, yes," said Louis, "I shall not forget that; but
I do not want to go back to him."

Matters were in this condition when, one beautiful
day in autumn, Count Hugo came again to Viteau.
This time he did not clamber over the wall, but rode
in bravely at the front gate. He was not followed by
a body of steel-clad soldiers, but he brought his
daughter Agnes, with her attendants, and a company
of followers in gay and bright array. He did not
come to conquer, but he came because he had been
conquered. He came to ask the lovely Countess of
Viteau to be his wife.

A few weeks after this, when the days were becoming
clear and frosty, there was a wedding at Viteau.
// 229.png
.bn 229.png
There were many guests; there was feasting, and
music, and great joy. Little Agnes had now a mother,
and Raymond and Louis a brave and noble father.

And when the wedding was over, the Countess
rode away with her husband to his castle of De
Lannes, and her two boys went with her—Raymond,
because it was on his road to Paris, and Louis,
because he was to be taught to be a knight by Count
Hugo, who had admired and loved the boy almost
from the first time he had seen him.

The priests from Paris never came to catechise
the Countess. The truth was, that the young King
was not so much of a king as he had supposed
himself to be; for his mother, Queen Blanche, was
not willing that the crown should interfere in any
way with the operations of the Inquisition, and had
not consented that the priests should be sent to the
castle of Barran. But as it became known that the
King had taken an interest in the matter, and as it
was probably considered unwise to bring a religious
prosecution against the wife of the Count de Lannes,—who
was not only a powerful nobleman, but a warm
supporter of both Church and state, and who was
also known to have punished and exterminated the
band of <lang="fr"><i>cotereaux</i></lang> who had attacked the
Inquisitorial party,—the matter was suffered to drop, and nothing more
was ever heard of it.
// 230.png
.bn 230.png

Viteau was left in charge of Bernard, who would
faithfully administer its affairs until Raymond should
be of age to come and take possession of the
establishment and the estates.

And now, as our friends have left the chateau, with
whose varying fortunes we have, for a time, been
interested, we will leave it also; and the story of
Viteau is told.
.sp 4
.ce
THE END.
// 231.png
.bn 231.png
// 232.png
.bn 232.png
.pb

.nf c
<xl>NEW AND STANDARD</xl>
BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
.nf-
.hr 50%
.ce
<b>MR. SETON'S FAMOUS ANIMAL BOOKS</b>
.hr 25%
.ce
<b>ANIMAL HEROES</b>

With 200 or more Illustrations by the author. Square 12mo,
$1.75 <i>net</i> (postage extra).

This new book of animal stories is a companion volume in
appearance and spirit to "Wild Animals I Have Known"
and "Lives of the Hunted," but it differs from these two books
in a few important particulars. Domestic animals are the
heroes of four or five of the stories, and the end of most of these
heroes is not a tragic but a happy one. Written and illustrated
with all the charm and expert knowledge of Mr. Seton, these
more cheerful adventures give a happier and more vivid idea than
his former works of the life and adventures of the domestic
animals we know, as well as of the unknown wild ones.
.sp 2
.ce
<b>WILD ANIMALS I HAVE KNOWN</b>
.ce
With 200 Illustrations by the author. Square l2mo, $2.00.

"It should be put with Kipling and Hans Christian Andersen as a
classic."—<i>Athenæum.</i>
.sp 1
.ce
<b>LIVES OF THE HUNTED</b>

With over 200 Illustrations by the author. Square 12mo,
$1.75 <i>net</i>.
"The breadth of his sympathy is the finest charm of his work."—<sc>Agnes
Repplier.</sc>
.sp 1
.ce
<b>MONARCH, THE BIG BEAR OF TALLAC</b>

With numerous Drawings by the author. 12mo, $1.25 <i>net</i>
(postage, 12 cents).

"A fascinating account of a bear family."—<i>Providence Journal.</i>
.sp 1
.ce
<b>THE TRAIL OF THE SANDHILL STAG</b>
.ce
With numerous Drawings by the author. Square 12mo, $1.50.
// 233.png
.bn 233.png
.hr 50%
.sp 2
.ce
<b>A NEW BOOK BY MRS. BURNETT</b>
.hr 25%
.ce
A LITTLE PRINCESS

Being the Whole Story of Sara Crewe now told for the
First Time. Handsomely illustrated in colors by <sc>Ethel
Franklin Betts</sc>. Royal 8vo, $2.00.

Miss Betts's illustrations, title-page and cover-design, will give great
distinction and beauty to this story by Mrs. Burnett, and will make
"A Little Princess" the leading holiday-book of the season for young
readers. The last paragraph of Mrs. Burnett's preface explains the origin
and scope of her new book: "After the play of 'A Little Princess' was
produced in New York, and so many children went to see it and liked
Becky and Lottie and Melchisidec, my publishers asked me if I could not
write Sara's story over again and put into it all the things and people who
had been left out before, and so I have done it, and when I began I found
there were actually pages and pages of things which had happened that had
never been put even into the play, so in this new 'Little Princess' I have
put in all that I have been able to discover."

.hr 50%
.ce
<b>W. A. FRASER'S ANIMAL STORIES</b>
.hr 25%
.ce
<b>SA-ZADA TALES</b>

Illustrated by <sc>Arthur Heming</sc>. 12mo, $1.50 <i>net</i> (postage
extra).

Since Mr. Fraser wrote his Mooswa Tales no such good stories of
animals have been published as in this new book. The tales of life and
adventure that the Tiger, the Panther, the Elephant, the Birds, and other
Animals tell each other arouse a vivid and absorbing interest in the mind
of either child or grown-up and make them unforgetable. The forty-eight
full-page illustrations by Mr. Heming, whose pictures have placed him at
the head of illustrators of his class, will make this a sumptuous and extraordinarily
attractive book.
.sp 1
.ce
<b>MOOSWA</b>
.ce
and Others of the Boundaries

Illustrated by <sc>Arthur Heming</sc>. Crown 8vo, $2.00.

"Takes its place at once beside the Jungle Book. A group of stories,
capitally told, of the lives and doings of the animals."—<i>Boston Herald.</i>
.sp 1
.ce
<b>THE OUTCASTS</b>

Illustrated by <sc>Arthur Heming</sc>. Crown 8vo, $1.25 <i>net</i>.

"It has the freedom and mystery of that great unknown country up
toward the Arctic circle, and the fascination of animal existence."—<i>Chicago
Tribune.</i>
// 234.png
.bn 234.png
.hr 50%
.ce
<xl>BOOKS BY HOWARD PYLE</xl>
.ce
<l>THE STORY OF THE CHAMPIONS OF THE ROUND TABLE</l>

Royal 8vo, $2.50 <i>net</i> (postage extra). With many full-page
drawings and decorations by the author.

Mr. Pyle's new book is similar in scope, style, scheme of illustrations,
etc., to his "Story of King Arthur and His Knights," which had a great
success two years ago. It deals with the adventures of Launcelot,
Tristram, Percival, and the other chiefs of the various groups in King
Arthur's court in a manner at once spirited and poetic. As in the
earlier volume, the illustrations, both the full pages and the
decorative embellishments, with the author's cover-design and
title-page, lift the book into the class of holiday art works.

.ce
<l>THE STORY OF KING ARTHUR AND HIS KNIGHTS</l>
.ce
Illustrated by the author. Royal 8vo, $2.50 <i>net</i>.

.ce
<l>THE MERRY ADVENTURES OF ROBIN HOOD</l>
.ce
Of Great Renown in Nottinghamshire. Illustrated by the \
author. Royal 8vo, $3.00.

.hr 50%
.ce
<xl>BOOKS ILLUSTRATED IN COLORS</xl>
.hr 25%
.ce
<l>A CHILD'S GARDEN OF VERSES</l>
.ce
By ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON

With 12 full-page illustrations and ornamental cover in colors.
By <sc>Jessie Willcox Smith</sc>. Royal 8vo, $2.50.

This is the most important work which Miss Smith has ever accomplished,
a work which she has long been anxious to do and into which she has put
the highest expression of her great and charming talent for drawing
children. There are twelve pages in color, and a colored title-page and
cover, and innumerable pen and ink drawings. No more perfect and
individual interpretation of Stevenson's inimitable verses could be
imagined.

.ce
<l>POEMS OF CHILDHOOD</l>
.ce
By EUGENE FIELD

With 8 full-page illustrations and ornamental cover in colors.
By <sc>Maxfield Parrish</sc>. Royal 8vo, $2.50.

"His poems of childhood have gone home, not only to the hearts of
children, but to the heart of the country as well, and he is one of the
few contributors to that genuine literature of childhood which expresses
ideas from the standpoint of a child."—<i>The Outlook.</i>
// 235.png
.bn 235.png
.hr 50%
.ce
<xl>THE AMERICAN NATURAL HISTORY</xl>
.ce
By WILLIAM T. HORNADAY

343 illustrations, 427 pages. $3.50 <i>net</i> (carriage extra)

"Here are the beasts of the field, the birds of the air, the
fishes of the deep, described in clear, simple language, with
no ambiguity, and pictured in many cases by photographs
from life, in others by drawings of well-known animal painters.
We suspect that Mr. Hornaday's book will be the popular
natural history for a long time to come."—<i>New York Sun.</i>
.hr 50%
.ce
<l>STORIES OF FAMOUS SEA FIGHTS</l>
.hr 25%
.ce
By JESSIE PEABODY FROTHINGHAM
.ce
<l>SEA WOLVES OF SEVEN SHORES</l>

Illustrated. 12mo, $1.20 <i>net</i> (postage extra)

"Every boy that loves a pirate will want to read 'Sea
Wolves of Seven Shores,' by Jessie Peabody Frothingham,
for all the famous pirates will be found here, besides some
not so well known."—<i>New York Sun.</i>

.ce
<l>SEA FIGHTERS FROM DRAKE TO FARRAGUT</l>
.ce
Illustrated. 12mo, $1.20 <i>net</i>.

"Exactly the present to give a clever boy who has the
boy's love for a brave adventure and likes to read of gallant
actions on sea and land."—<i>The Congregationalist.</i>

.hr 25%
.ce
By MOLLY ELLIOT SEAWELL
.ce
<l>TWELVE NAVAL CAPTAINS</l>
.ce
Illustrated. 12mo, $1.25.

"A capital collection of yarns.... She tells the story
of her heroes in an admirable tone of impartiality."—<i>The Academy.</i>
// 236.png
.bn 236.png
.hr 50%
.ce
<xl>THE BEARD BOOKS FOR BOYS</xl>
.ce
By DANIEL C. BEARD

Each profusely Illustrated by the author. Square 8vo, $2.00.

"To make a good book for boys, and more particularly a good book about
boys' sports, one needs to be a good deal of a boy himself. Mr. Beard
has just this qualification. He gets the boy's point of view, the boy's
sense of fun, the boy's love for what is new, ingenious, or
queer."—<i>The Outlook.</i>
.sp 2
.nf c
<l>THE JACK OF ALL TRADES</l>
Or, New Ideas for American Boys

<l>THE OUT-DOOR HANDY BOOK</l>
For Playground, Field, and Forest

<l>THE AMERICAN BOY'S HANDY BOOK</l>
Or, What to Do and How to Do It
.nf-

.hr 50%
.ce
<xl>THE BEARD BOOKS FOR GIRLS</xl>
.ce
By LINA and ADELIA B. BEARD
.ce
With many Illustrations.

.ce
<l>HANDICRAFT AND RECREATION FOR GIRLS</l>
.ce
8vo, $1.60 <i>net</i> (postage, 16 cents).

"It teaches how to make serviceable and useful things of all kinds out
of every kind of material. It also tells how to play and how to make
things to play with. The girl who gets this book will not lack for
occupation and pleasure."—<i>Chicago Evening Post.</i>

.ce
<l>WHAT A GIRL CAN MAKE AND DO</l>
.ce
New Ideas for Work and Play
.ce
8vo, $1.60 <i>net</i>.

"It would be a dull girl who could not make herself busy and happy
following its precepts.... A most inspiring book for an active-minded
girl."—<i>Chicago Record-Herald.</i>

.ce
<l>THE AMERICAN GIRL'S HANDY BOOK</l>
.ce
Or, How to Amuse Yourself and Others
.ce
8vo, $2.00.

"It is a treasure which, once possessed, no practical girl would
willingly part with. It is an invaluable aid in making a home
attractive, comfortable, and refined."—<sc>Grace Greenwood.</sc>
// 237.png
.bn 237.png
.sp 2
.hr 50%

<xl>MRS. BURNETT'S FAMOUS BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE</xl>

New and Uniform Edition. Illustrated by <sc>Reginald B.
Birch</sc>. Five volumes, 12mo, each $1.25.
.sp 1
.ce
<l>LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY</l>

"Another charming child to add to our gallery of juvenile heroes and
heroines."—<sc>Louisa M. Alcott.</sc>

.ce
<l>TWO LITTLE PILGRIMS' PROGRESS</l>
.ce
"A strong, sweet, true book."—<sc>Mrs. Margaret E. Sangster.</sc>
.ce
<l>SARAH CREWE</l>
.ce
Or, What Happened at Miss Minchin's, and Little Saint Elizabeth, \
and Other Stories
.sp 1
.ce
<l>GIOVANNI AND THE OTHER</l>
.ce
Children Who Have Made Stories
.ce
"Stories beautiful in tone and style and color."—<sc>Kate \
Douglas Wiggin.</sc>
.sp 1
.ce
<l>PICCINO</l>
.ce
And Other Child Stories
.hr 25%
.ce
<xl>TREASURE ISLAND</xl>
.ce
By ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON
.ce
Illustrated, 12mo, $1.25.
.ce
"Still the best tale of pirates and hidden treasure in the \
world."—<i>New York Times Review.</i>
.hr 50%
.ce
<xl>FOUR STORIES BY W. H. FROST</xl>
.ce
Each attractively illustrated. 12mo, $1.50.

"Mr. Frost has succeeded admirably in his attempt to make the doughty
knights and fair ladies of ancient days seem distinct and interesting to
the boys and girls of our own time."—<i>Public Opinion.</i>
.nf c
FAIRIES AND FOLK OF IRELAND
THE KNIGHTS OF THE ROUND TABLE
THE COURT OF KING ARTHUR
THE WAGNER STORY BOOK
.nf-
.hr 50%
.ce
<l>Charles Scribner's Sons      New York</l>
.pb
.sp 4
.ul
.it Transcriber's Notes:
.ul indent=1
.it Missing or obscured punctuation was corrected.
.it Typographical errors were silently corrected.
.it Inconsistant hyphenation was corrected (courtyard/court-yard, \
bright-red/bright red, out-door/outdoor, high road/high-road, \
ransom money/ransom-money, hall-way/hallway, robber-captain/robber captain)
.ul-
.ul-