Forest Days: A Romance of Old Times
as may seem fit unto your grace to order, either in arms, according to
the challenge given, or by still better proof, if so you will."
"None can be better, sir," answered the King; "God's own decision must
surely be more just than that of men."
"Well, sire," replied Hugh de Monthermer, with a smile; "be it as your
grace pleases. Alured," he continued, holding out his hand, "if I needs
must fight with you, I must; but you will be compelled to seek some
other cause than your good father's death. Of that, at least, I am
innocent, whatever I be guilty of.--Here is a witness cannot lie.--Draw
back the curtains.--Will you believe himself?"
Alured de Ashby, already pale, turned for an instant paler still, but
it seemed as if the blood had but withdrawn itself into the fountain of
the heart to gush forth again, purified, renewed, invigorated. For a
moment he was as white as the ashes of an extinguished fire, but the
next his cheek glowed, his eyes sparkled, and springing from his horse,
with a light bound, as if all sickness were departed, he cast himself
upon his knees beside the litter, in which, lying on a soft bed, but
partly raised upon his arm, appeared the old Earl of Ashby. The son
dewed the father's hand with his tears; then starting up and casting
his arms round Hugh de Monthermer, he pressed him to his mailed breast,
exclaiming, "I have injured you!--forgive me, my good brother!"
Hugh wrung his hand, and said, "This is all joyful, Alured; but there
is something painful still behind. There stand the murderers!--the
assassin and his tool! My lord the King, into your hands I give them,
to be dealt with as in your high judgment you shall deem expedient. The
one makes full confession of his crime, the other has not the daring to
deny it; and indeed, it would be useless so to do; for, as the very
consequences of our sins prove often by God's will their punishments, a
poor unhappy girl, whom he seduced from virtue and her peaceful home,
overheard in his house the foul conspiracy for murdering this good
earl, and charging the crime on me. She told it to those she thought
might best prevent it, who came not in time to stop the deed, but soon
enough to find the Earl, and staunch the bleeding of his wounds, before
life was extinct. She is now ready, though her heart is broke, to give
such evidence as leaves no doubt of these men's guilt, even if they
still denied it."
"Oh, villain!" said Alured de Ashby, gazing on his cousin, who still
looked fiercely from under his frowning brows upon him, "Oh, villain!
To bring such a stain upon our house!"
"Hush, Alured, hush!" said the old Earl, "I will beseech my lord the
King to pardon him."
"Ay, pardon me! pardon me!" cried Richard do Ashby, darting forward.
"King, I saved your son from bondage--I gave him means of flight!--But
for me there had been no Evesham--But for me De Montfort had still
ruled--but for me you had both been prisoners at this hour."
"What say you, Edward?" asked the King.
"I beseech you, my lord, pardon him, pardon him," exclaimed Mortimer
and Pembroke, in a breath.
"My lord, I dare not speak," said Edward, "for though justice calls for
the death of the blackest villain I ever did yet know, gratitude ties
my tongue. I must not speak."
"Untie his hands," cried the King, after a moment's pause. "We give him
life, but banish him the realm for ever. If in ten days he be found
within the seas, let him be put to death!"
"Thanks! my lord, thanks!" exclaimed Richard de Ashby, while the yeomen
unwillingly loosed his arms from the cords.
As soon as he was free, he passed his cousin and Hugh de Monthermer, as
if to cut straight across the lists; but when he had taken two or three
steps, he turned and shook his clenched fist at them, crying, "Curses
upon ye both!--but the time for vengeance may yet come!--I have not
done with you!"
Even while he spoke there was a little movement amongst the crowd
beyond the barriers; and as he turned again to pursue his way, a loud,
clear, powerful voice, which was heard echoing over the whole field,
exclaimed, in the English tongue, "This for the heart of the murderous
traitor, Richard de Ashby!--Whom kings spare, commons send to
judgment!"
None saw the man from whom the voice proceeded; but, the moment after,
there came a sharp sound, like the twang of bowstring, the whistle of a
shaft through the air, and then a dull stroke, such as an arrow makes
when it hits a target.
A shrill scream, like that of a wounded seabird, burst from the lips of
Richard de Ashby, and casting up his arms in the air, as if in the
effort to clutch at something for support, he fell back upon the grass.
Several persons ran up; but he was dead! The arrow had gone through and
through his heart; and between the peacock feathers, that winged it on
its way, was found written, "Robin Hood."
Almost at the same moment a tall, stout yeoman was seen to mount a
white horse, at the other side of the lists, and ride away from the
field. He proceeded, at no very quick pace, and, as he went, he hummed
lightly to some old, long-forgotten air,
"And this is the end of Robin Lythe
And his knave Gandelyne."
THE END.