Howbeit,thinking it good to have a friend at court,I made occasion to put in the hand of the old serving-woman all of such small coins as I had won in my life servile,deeming myself well quit of such ill-gotten gear.And thereafter,with great mirth and noise,they set forth to climb the hill towards the castle,where I was led,through many a windy passage,to the chamber of Sir Hugh Kennedy.
There were torches lit,and the knight,a broad-shouldered,fair-haired man,with a stern,flushed face,was turning over and gazing at his new Book of Hours,like a child busy with a fresh toy.He laid the book down when we entered,and the senior of the two archers who accompanied me told him that I was he who had been summoned.
"Your name?"he asked;and I gave it.
"You are of gentle blood?"And I answering "Yes,"he replied,"Then see that you are ready to shed it for the King.Your life that was justly forfeit,is now,by his Royal mercy,returned to you,to be spent in his service.Rutherford and Douglas,go take him to quarters,and see that to-morrow he is clad as beseems a man of my command.Now good night to you--but stay!You,Norman Leslie,you will have quarrels on your hand.Wait not for them,but go to meet them,if they are with the French men-at-arms,and in quarrel see that you be swift and deadly.For the townsfolk,no brawling,marauding,or haling about of honest wenches.Here we are strangers,and my men must be respected."He bowed his head:his words had been curt,no grace or kindness had he shown me of countenance.I felt in my heart that to him Iwas but a pawn in the game of battle.Now I seemed as far off as ever I was from my foolish dream of winning my spurs;nay,perchance never had I sunk lower in my own conceit.Till this hour I had been,as it were,the hinge on which my share of the world turned,and now I was no more than a wheel in the carriage of a couleuvrine,an unconsidered cog in the machine of war.I was to be lost in a multitude,every one as good as myself,or better;and when I had thought of taking service,I had not foreseen the manner of it and the nature of the soldier's trade.My head,that I had carried high,somewhat drooped,as I saluted,imitating my companions,and we wheeled forth of the room.
"Hugh has taken the pride out of you,lad,or my name is not Randal Rutherford,"said the Border man who had guided me."Faith,he has a keen tongue and a short way with him,but there are worse commanders.And now you must to your quarters,for the hour is late and the guard-room shut."He led me to our common sleeping-place,where,among many snoring men-at-arms in a great bare hall,a pallet was laid for me,and my flesh crept as I remembered how this was the couch of him whom I had slain.Howbeit,being well weary,despite the strangeness of the place,after brief orisons I slept sound till a trumpet called us in the morning.
Concerning the strangeness of this waking,to me who had been gently nurtured,and the rough life,and profane words which I must hear (not,indeed,that they had been wholly banished from our wild days at St.Andrews),it is needless that I should tell.Seeing that Iwas come among rude neighbours,I even made shift to fall back,in semblance,on such manners as I had used among the students before Ileft Scotland,though many perils,and the fear wherein I stood of Brother Thomas,and the company of the maid Elliot,had caused me half to forget my swaggering ways.So,may God forgive me!I swore roundly;I made as if I deemed lightly of that Frenchman's death,and,in brief,I so bore me that,ere noon (when I behoved to go into Chinon with Randal Rutherford,and there provide me with the rich apparel of our company),I had three good quarrels on my hand.
First,there was the man-at-arms who had kissed me in the guard-room.He,in a "bourde"and mockery,****** pretence that he would repeat his insult,got that which was owing him,and with interest,for indeed he could see out of neither of his squint eyes when I had dealt with him.And for this cause perforce,if he needed more proof of my manhood than the weight of my fist,he must tarry for the demonstration which he desired.
Then there was Robin Lindsay,and at his wrath I make no marvel,for the tale of how he came late to tryst,and at second-hand (with many such rude and wanton additions as soldiers use to make),was noised abroad all over the castle.His quarrel was no matter for fisticuffs;so,being attired in helmet,vambrace rerebrace,gauntlets,and greaves out of the armoury,where many such suits were stored,I met him in a certain quiet court behind the castle,where quarrels were usually voided.And now my practice of the sword at home and the lessons of our smith came handily to my need.
After much clashing of steel and smiting out of sparks,I chanced,by an art known to me,to strike his sword out of his hand.Then,having him at an avail,I threw down my own blade,and so plainly told him the plain truth,and how to his mistress I owed my life,which I would rather lose now at his hand than hear her honour blamed,that he forgave me,and we embraced as friends.Neither was this jest anew cast up against either of us,men fearing to laugh,as we say,with the wrong side of their mouths.
After this friendly bout at point and edge,Robin and Randal Rutherford,being off duty,must needs carry me to the Tennis Court,where Tremouille and the King were playing two young lords,and that for such a stake as would have helped to arm a hundred men for the aid of Orleans.It was pretty to see the ball fly about basted from the walls,and the players bounding and striking;and,little as Iunderstood the game,so eager was I over the sport,that a gentleman within the "dedans"touched me twice on the shoulder before I was aware of him.
"I would have a word with you,sir,if your grace can spare me the leisure.""May it not be spoken here?"I asked,for I was sorry to lose the spectacle of the tennis,which was new to me,and is a pastime wherein France beats the world.Pity it is that many players should so curse and blaspheme God and His saints!
