The Cloister and the Hearth by Charles Reade (most interesting books to read .TXT) 📕

And now he must get to Gerard. But how? He had to run the gauntlet of the whole band. He asked himself, what was the worst thing they could do? for he had learned in war that an enemy does, not what you hope he will do, but what you hope he will not do. “Attack me as I enter the kitchen! Then I must not give them time.”

Just as he drew near to the latch, a terrible thought crossed him. “Suppose they had already dealt with Gerard. Why, then,” thought he, “nought is left but to kill, and be killed;” and he strung his bow, and walked rapidly into the kitchen. There were seven hideous faces seated round the fire, and the landlord pouring them out neat brandy, blood's forerunner in every age.

“What? company!” cried Denys gaily; “one minute, my lads, and I'll be with you;” and he snatched up a lighted candle off the table, opened the door that led to the staircase, and went up it hallooing. “What, Gerard! whither hast thou skulked to?” There was no answer. He hallooed louder, “Gerard, where art thou?”

After a moment, in which Denys lived an hour of agony, a peevish, half-inarticulate noise issued from the room at the head of the little stairs. Denys burst in, and there was Gerard asleep.

“Thank God!” he said, in a choking voice, then began to sing loud, untuneful ditties. Gerard put his fingers into his ears; but presently he saw in Denys's face a horror that contrasted strangely with this sudden merriment.

“What ails thee?” said he, sitting up and staring.

“Hush!” said Denys, and his hand spoke even more plainly than his lips. “Listen to me.”

Denys then pointing significantly to the door, to show Gerard sharp ears were listening hard by, continued his song aloud but under cover of it threw in short muttered syllables.

“(Our lives are in peril.)

“(Thieves.)

“(Thy doublet.)

“(Thy sword.)

“Aid.

“Coming.

“Put off time.” Then aloud—

“Well, now, wilt have t'other bottle?—Say nay.”

“No, not I.”

“But I tell thee, there are half-a-dozen jolly fellows. Tired.”

“Ay, but I am too wearied,” said Gerard. “Go thou.”

“Nay, nay!” Then he went to the door and called out cheerfully “Landlord, the young milksop will not rise. Give those honest fellows t'other bottle. I will pay for't in the morning.”

He heard a brutal and fierce chuckle.

Having thus by observation made sure the kitchen door was shut, and the miscreants were not actually listening, he examined the chamber door closely: then quietly shut it, but did not bolt it; and went and inspected the window.

It was too small to get out of, and yet a thick bar of iron had been let in the stone to make it smaller; and just as he made this chilling discovery, the outer door of the house was bolted with a loud clang.

Denys groaned. “The beasts are in the shambles.”

But would the thieves attack them while they were awake? Probably not.

Not to throw away this their best chance, the poor souls now made a series of desperate efforts to converse, as if discussing ordinary matters; and by this means Gerard learned all that had passed, and that the girl was gone for aid.

“Pray Heaven she may not lose heart by the way,” said Denys, sorrowfully.

And Denys begged Gerard's forgiveness for bringing him out of his way for this.

Gerard forgave him.

“I would fear them less, Gerard, but for one they call the Abbot. I picked him out at once. Taller than you, bigger than us both put together. Fights with an axe. Gerard, a man to lead a herd of deer to battle. I shall kill that man to-night, or he will kill me. I think somehow 'tis he will kill me.”

“Saints forbid! Shoot him at the door! What avails his strength against your weapon?”

“I shall pick him out; but if it comes to hand fighting, run swiftly under his guard, or you are a dead man. I tell thee neither of us may stand a blow of that axe: thou never sawest such a body of a man.”

Gerard was for bolting the door; but Denys with a sign showed him that half the door-post turned outward on a hinge, and the great bolt was little more than a blind. “I have forborne to bolt it,” said he, “that they may think us the less suspicious.”

Near an hour rolled away thus. It seemed an age. Yet it was but a little hour, and the town was a league distant. And some of the voices in the kitchen became angry and impatient.

“They will not wait much longer,” said Denys, “and we have no chance at all unless we surprise them.”

“I will do whate'er you bid,” said Gerard meekly.

There was a cupboard on the same side as the door; but between it and the window. It reached nearly to the ground, but not quite. Denys opened the cupboard door and placed Gerard on a chair behind it. “If they run for the bed, strike at the napes of their necks! a sword cut there always kills or disables.” He then arranged the bolsters and their shoes in the bed so as to deceive a person peeping from a distance, and drew the short curtains at the head.

Meantime Gerard was on his knees. Denys looked round and saw him.

“Ah!” said Denys, “above all, pray them to forgive me for bringing you into this guet-apens!”

And now they grasped hands and looked in one another's eyes oh, such a look! Denys's hand was cold, and Gerard's warm.

They took their posts.

Denys blew out the candle.

“We must keep silence now.”

But in the terrible tension of their nerves and very souls they found they could hear a whisper fainter than any man could catch at all outside that door. They could hear each other's hearts thump at times.

“Good news!” breathed Denys, listening at the door. “They are casting lots.”

“Pray that it may be the Abbot.”

“Yes. Why?

“If he comes alone I can make sure of him.”

“Denys!”

“Ay!”