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

The culprits were condemned to stand pinioned in the marketplace for two hours, that should any persons recognize them or any of them as guilty of other crimes, they might depose to that effect at the trial.

They stood, however, the whole period, and no one advanced anything fresh against them. This was the less remarkable that they were night birds, vampires who preyed in the dark on weary travellers, mostly strangers.

But just as they were being taken down, a fearful scream was heard in the crowd, and a woman pointed at one of them, with eyes almost starting from their sockets: but ere she could speak she fainted away.

Then men and women crowded round her, partly to aid her, partly from curiosity. When she began to recover they fell to conjectures.

“'Twas at him she pointed.”

“Nay, 'twas at this one.”

“Nay, nay,” said another, “'twas at yon hangdog with the hair hung round his neck.”

All further conjectures were cut short. The poor creature no sooner recovered her senses than she flew at the landlord like a lioness. “My child! Man! man! Give me back my child.” And she seized the glossy golden hair that the officers had hung round his neck, and tore it from his neck, and covered it with kisses; then, her poor confused mind clearing, she saw even by this token that her lost girl was dead, and sank suddenly down shrieking and sobbing so over the poor hair, that the crowd rushed on the assassin with one savage growl. His life had ended then and speedily, for in those days all carried death at their girdles. But Denys drew his sword directly, and shouting “A moi, camarades!” kept the mob at bay. “Who lays a finger on him dies.” Other archers backed him, and with some difficulty they kept him uninjured, while Denys appealed to those who shouted for his blood.

“What sort of vengeance is this? would you be so mad as rob the wheel, and give the vermin an easy death?”

The mob was kept passive by the archers' steel rather than by Denys's words, and growled at intervals with flashing eyes. The municipal officers, seeing this, collected round, and with the archers made a guard, and prudently carried the accused back to gaol.

The mob hooted them and the prisoners indiscriminately. Denys saw the latter safely lodged, then made for “The White Hart,” where he expected to find Gerard.

On the way he saw two girls working at a first-floor window. He saluted them. They smiled. He entered into conversation. Their manners were easy, their complexion high.

He invited them to a repast at “The White Hart.” They objected. He acquiesced in their refusal. They consented. And in this charming society he forgot all about poor Gerard, who meantime was carried off to gaol; but on the way suddenly stopped, having now somewhat recovered his presence of mind, and demanded to know by whose authority he was arrested.

“By the vice-baillie's,” said the constable.

“The vice-baillie? Alas! what have I, a stranger, done to offend a vice-baillie? For this charge of sorcery must be a blind. No sorcerer am I; but a poor true lad far from his home.”

This vague shift disgusted the officer. “Show him the capias, Jacques,” said he.

Jacques held out the writ in both hands about a yard and a half from Gerard's eye; and at the same moment the large constable suddenly pinned him; both officers were on tenterhooks lest the prisoner should grab the document, to which they attached a superstitious importance.

But the poor prisoner had no such thought. Query whether he would have touched it with the tongs. He just craned out his neck and read it, and to his infinite surprise found the vice-bailiff who had signed the writ was the friendly alderman. He took courage and assured his captor there was some error. But finding he made no impression, demanded to be taken before the alderman.

“What say you to that, Jacques?”

“Impossible. We have no orders to take him before his worship. Read the writ!”

“Nay, but good kind fellows, what harm can it be? I will give you each an ecu.”

“Jacques, what say you to that?”

“Humph! I say we have no orders not to take him to his worship. Read the writ!”

“Then say we take him to prison round by his worship.”

It was agreed. They got the money; and bade Gerard observe they were doing him a favour. He saw they wanted a little gratitude as well as much silver. He tried to satisfy this cupidity, but it stuck in his throat. Feigning was not his forte.

He entered the alderman's presence with his heart in his mouth, and begged with faltering voice to know what he had done to offend since he left that very room with Manon and Denys.

“Nought that I know of,” said the alderman.

On the writ being shown him, he told Gerard he had signed it at daybreak. “I get old, and my memory faileth me: a discussing of the girl I quite forgot your own offence: but I remember now. All is well. You are he I committed for sorcery. Stay! ere you go to gaol, you shall hear what your accuser says: run and fetch him, you.”

The man could not find the accuser all at once. So the alderman, getting impatient, told Gerard the main charge was that he had set a dead body a burning with diabolical fire, that flamed, but did not consume. “And if 'tis true, young man, I'm sorry for thee, for thou wilt assuredly burn with fire of good pine logs in the market-place of Neufchasteau.”

“Oh, sir, for pity's sake let me have speech with his reverence the cure.”

The alderman advised Gerard against it. “The Church was harder upon sorcerers than was the corporation.”

“But, sir, I am innocent,” said Gerard, between snarling and whining.

“Oh, if you think you are innocent—officer, go with him to the cure; but see he 'scape you not. Innocent, quotha?”

They found the cure in his doublet repairing a wheelbarrow. Gerard told him all, and appealed piteously to him. “Just for using a little phosphorus in self-defence against cut-throats they are going to hang.”

It was lucky for our magician that he had already told his tale in full to the cure, for thus that shrewd personage had hold of the stick at the right end. The corporation held it by the ferule. His reverence looked exceedingly grave and said, “I