Have you been unsuccessful? said the Templar.
The Lady Rowena must have heard that I cannot endure the sight of womens tears, answered De Bracy.
And I have never met a woman more proud that this Jewish girl. But where is Front-de-Boeuf? That horn gets louder and louder.
Soon Front-de-Boeuf joined them.
Let us see the reason for this noise, said Front-de-Boeuf, here is a letter, and, if I am right, it is in Saxon.
He looked at it, turning it round and round, and then handed it to De Bracy.
It may be magic spells, I dont know, said De Bracy, who couldnt read as well.
Give it to me, said the Templar. We are half-priests and have some knowledge in addition to bravery. This is a formal letter of challenge, but it is extraordinary if its not a joke!
A joke! said Front-de-Boeuf, I want to know who jokes with me! Read it, Sir Brian.
The Templar read the following letter I, Wamba, the son of Witless, Jester to a noble man, Cedric of Rotherwood, called the Saxon, And I, Gurth, the son of Beowulph, the swineherd of the same person, with the help of our allies and confederates the Black Knight and the stout yeoman Robert Locksley demand that you, Reginald Front de-Boeuf, give freedom to Cedric of Rotherwood, lady Rowena, Athelstane of Coningsburgh, their servants, Isaac the Jew and his daughter. If you do not do so, we will treat you as a robber and fight you to your destruction.
The knights heard this strange document read from end to end, and then gazed upon each other in silent amazement. De Bracy was the first to break silence by an uncontrollable fit of laughter.
Stop laughing, sir, said Front-de-Boeuf, There are at least two hundred men assembled in the woods.
Shame on you, Sir Knight! said the Templar. Let us call our people, and attack them. One knight is enough for twenty peasants.
Not in the forest, answered Front-de-Boeuf. Attack? We dont even have enough men to defend the castle. The best of mine are at York; and there is all your band, De Bracy. We dont have more than thirty.
Send to your neighbours, said the Templar.
They are all at York, answered the baron.
Then send to York, said De Bracy.
And who will bear such a message? said Front-de-Boeuf; these robbers will catch the messenger and kill him. But I have an idea: Sir Templar, write an answer to this letter. Tell them that we are going to kill our prisoners and ask to send us a priest who can receive their last confession.
This answer was delivered to Wamba and Gurth, with their allies the Black Knight and Locksley, and the hermit, who were waiting under the old oak. More than two hundred yeomen had already assembled near that place, and others were coming. A group of the Saxon servants of Cedric had arrived to assist in his rescue.
The monk did not understand French, so the letter was given to the Black Knight. He first read it to himself, and then explained the meaning in Saxon to his confederates.
I think, said the Black Knight, that if they require a confessor, this holy monk can get into the castle and get us some information of what happens inside.
I am not a monk, when I am in my green cloak, said the hermit.
I fear, said the Black Knight, that there is no one here who can pretend to be a priest.
I see, said Wamba, after a short pause, that the fool must be still a fool, and put his neck in the adventure which wise men stay away from. I will put on a monastic cloak and go to my master Cedric.
Do it then, said the Knight, and let your master send us a message of their situation within the castle.
And, in the meantime, said Locksley, we will surround the castle so that even a fly will not be able to carry news from there.
Pax vobiscum,[23] said Wamba, putting on his religious disguise.
He went on his mission, imitating the ceremonial manners of a monk.
* * *When the Jester, who was dressed like a hermit, stood before the gates of the castle of Front-de-Boeuf, the soldiers asked who he was.
Pax vobiscum,[23] said Wamba, putting on his religious disguise.
He went on his mission, imitating the ceremonial manners of a monk.
* * *When the Jester, who was dressed like a hermit, stood before the gates of the castle of Front-de-Boeuf, the soldiers asked who he was.
Pax vobiscum, answered the Jester, I am a poor brother of the Order of St Francis, who came here to visit the unhappy prisoners of this castle. The gates opened.
Wamba was brave, but his bravery almost left him in the presence of a man so dreadful as Reginald Front-de-Boeuf, and he pronounced his pax vobiscum with fear and hesitation. But Front-de-Boeuf was accustomed to see men tremble in his presence, so the timidity of the supposed father did not give him any cause of suspicion.
Who are you, priest? he said.
Pax vobiscum, answered the Jester, I am a poor servant of St Francis. I was travelling and some robbers caught me and sent me to this castle in order to confess two persons condemned by your honourable justice.
Yes, right, answered Front-de-Boeuf; and can you tell me, holy father, how many robbers there are?
Sir, answered the Jester, there are at least five hundred men.
The Templar, who came into the hall that moment, took Front-de-Boeuf aside: Do you know the priest?
He is not from these lands, said Front-de-Boeuf; I dont know him.
Then dont trust him with your message, answered the Templar. Let him carry a written order to De Bracys company of Free Companions. In the meantime permit him to go freely to these Saxons, so that he wont suspect anything.
Let it be so, said Front-de-Boeuf. And he sent a servant to show Wamba the way to the apartment where Cedric and Athelstane were kept.
Pax vobiscum, said the Jester, entering the apartment; the blessing of St Dunstan, St Dennis, St Duthoc, and all other saints be upon you.
Enter freely, answered Cedric to the supposed friar; what do you want with us?
To ask you to prepare yourselves for death, answered the Jester.
It is impossible! replied Cedric, They will not dare to kill us!
They will, said the Jester, so think, noble Cedric and Athelstane, what crimes you have committed during your life, because today you will be called to answer at a higher tribunal.
I am ready, said Athelstane, and will walk to my death as calmly as to my dinner.
Let us begin then, father, said Cedric.
Wait a moment, good uncle, said the Jester, in his natural tone; you should look long before you leap in the dark.
I know that voice! said Cedric.
It belongs to your slave and jester, answered Wamba, taking off his hood. Take this cloak and walk quietly out of the castle, leaving me your clothes.
But they will kill you! said Cedric.
Let them do so, said Wamba.
Wamba, answered Cedric, you shoud save Lord Athelstane instead of me.
No, by St Dunstan, answered Wamba; my good master, either go yourself, or let me leave as free as I entered.
Go, father Cedric, said Athelstane, I would rather remain in this hall a week without food than escape instead of you.
Is there any chance of rescue? asked Cedric.
Chance? Five hundred men are outside this castle and they are ready to attack. So farewell, my master, and good luck. Remember your faithful fool.
The tears stood in Cedrics eyes.
You will never be forgotten, he said, but I hope I will save you all. Wait, I dont know Latin, how will I pretend to be a monk?
You need only two words, replied Wamba, Pax vobiscum. These words will open every door.
On his way to the hall of the castle, Cedric was interrupted by a female form.
Come this way, father, said the harsh voice of Urfried, you are a stranger in this castle, and need a guide. Come here, I want to speak with you.
* * *Urfried led Cedric into a small apartment and shut the door. Then she took a bottle of wine and two cups from a cupboard and put them on the table. You are Saxon, fatherDont deny it, she said, I love to hear the sounds of my native language.
Do not Saxon priests visit this castle, then? replied Cedric.
They dont come, answered Urfried, but you are a Saxon priest, and I have one question to ask of you.
I am a Saxon, answered Cedric, but unworthy, surely, of the name of priest. Let me goI swear I will return, or send one of our fathers more worthy to hear your confession.
Stay, said Urfried; I will soon be dead, but I dont want to die without confession. Wine must give me strength to tell my horrible story. She poured wine in the two cups. Drink it, father, if you want to hear my story without falling to the floor. Cedric didnt want to drink, but the woman seemed impatient and he decided to do what she asked. Then she began her story.
I was born free, father, she said, I was happy, was honoured, loved, and was beloved. I am now a miserable slave. Is it strange, father, that I hate people? Can the old hag before you forget she was once the daughter of the noble lord of Torquilstone?
You are Ulrica, the daughter of Torquil Wolfganger! said Cedric; youthe daughter of that noble Saxon, my fathers friend and ally!
Your fathers friend! echoed Ulrica; then Cedric called the Saxon stands before me, because noble Hereward of Rotherwood had only one son. But if you are Cedric of Rotherwood, why this religious dress?
It matters not who I am, said Cedric; go on, unhappy woman, with your story of horror and guilt.
There is, answered the poor woman, deep, black, heavy guilt. Yes, in these halls, where my father and brothers died, I lived as a mistress of their killer! I lived with him, but I didnt love him. No, with that at least I cannot reproach myselfI hated Front-de-Boeuf. And I have had my vengeancebecause of me the wild son killed his tyrant father in a drunken quarrel!
And what happened to you, creature of guilt and misery, said Cedric, when that tyrant was dead?
Dont ask me. Here I lived and grew old before my time.
Ulrica, said Cedric, I am no priest, but I tell you: repent. Pray and repent, and may be your prayers will be accepted! But I cannot, I will not, stay here any longer.
Stay a little! said Ulrica; remember, I can call Front-de-Boeuf if I am too upset by your words.
Do it, said Cedric; and let him tear me apart, before I say one word which my heart does not believe. I will die a Saxontrue in word, open in deed. The sight of Front-de-Boeuf himself is less odious to me than you, degraded and degenerate as you are.