For years, she worked assiduously with the little boy's education. There were three subjects in her curriculum; French, swordsmanship and hatred8 of all things English, especially the reigning9 house of England.
The old woman had had made a tiny foil and had commenced teaching the little boy the art of fence when he was but three years old.
“You will be the greatest swordsman in the world when you are twenty, my son,” she was wont to say, “and then you shall go out and kill many Englishmen. Your name shall be hated and cursed the length and breadth of England, and when you finally stand with the halter about your neck, aha, then will I speak. Then shall they know.”
The little boy did not understand it all, he only knew that he was comfortable, and had warm clothing, and all he required to eat, and that he would be a great man when he learned to fight with a real sword, and had grown large enough to wield10 one. He also knew that he hated Englishmen, but why, he did not know.
Way back in the uttermost recesses11 of his little, childish head, he seemed to remember a time when his life and surroundings had been very different; when, instead of this old woman, there had been many people around him, and a sweet faced woman had held him in her arms and kissed him, before he was taken off to bed at night; but he could not be sure, maybe it was only a dream he remembered, for he dreamed many strange and wonderful dreams.
When the little boy was about six years of age, a strange man came to their attic home to visit the little old woman. It was in the dusk of the evening but the old woman did not light the cresset, and further, she whispered to the little boy to remain in the shadows of a far corner of the bare chamber13.
The stranger was old and bent and had a great beard which hid almost his entire face except for two piercing eyes, a great nose and a bit of wrinkled forehead. When he spoke14, he accompanied his words with many shrugs15 of his narrow shoulders and with waving of his arms and other strange and amusing gesticulations. The child was fascinated. Here was the first amusement of his little starved life. He listened intently to the conversation, which was in French.
“I have just the thing for madame,” the stranger was saying. “It be a noble and stately hall far from the beaten way. It was built in the old days by Harold the Saxon, but in later times, death and poverty and the disfavor of the King have wrested17 it from his descendants. A few years since, Henry granted it to that spend-thrift favorite of his, Henri de Macy, who pledged it to me for a sum he hath been unable to repay. Today it be my property, and as it be far from Paris, you may have it for the mere19 song I have named. It be a wondrous20 bargain, madame.”
“And when I come upon it, I shall find that I have bought a crumbling21 pile of ruined masonry22, unfit to house a family of foxes,” replied the old woman peevishly23.
“One tower hath fallen, and the roof for half the length of one wing hath sagged24 and tumbled in,” explained the old Frenchman. “But the three lower stories be intact and quite habitable. It be much grander even now than the castles of many of England's noble barons26, and the price, madame—ah, the price be so ridiculously low.”
Still the old woman hesitated.
“Come,” said the Frenchman, “I have it. Deposit the money with Isaac the Jew—thou knowest him?—and he shall hold it together with the deed for forty days, which will give thee ample time to travel to Derby and inspect thy purchase. If thou be not entirely27 satisfied, Isaac the Jew shall return thy money to thee and the deed to me, but if at the end of forty days thou hast not made demand for thy money, then shall Isaac send the deed to thee and the money to me. Be not this an easy and fair way out of the difficulty?”
The little old woman thought for a moment and at last conceded that it seemed quite a fair way to arrange the matter. And thus it was accomplished28.
Several days later, the little old woman called the child to her.
“We start tonight upon a long journey to our new home. Thy face shall be wrapped in many rags, for thou hast a most grievous toothache. Dost understand?”
“But I have no toothache. My teeth do not pain me at all. I—” expostulated the child.
“Tut, tut,” interrupted the little old woman. “Thou hast a toothache, and so thy face must be wrapped in many rags. And listen, should any ask thee upon the way why thy face be so wrapped, thou art to say that thou hast a toothache. And thou do not do as I say, the King's men will take us and we shall be hanged, for the King hateth us. If thou hatest the English King and lovest thy life do as I command.”
“I hate the King,” replied the little boy. “For this reason I shall do as thou sayest.”
So it was that they set out that night upon their long journey north toward the hills of Derby. For many days they travelled, riding upon two small donkeys. Strange sights filled the days for the little boy who remembered nothing outside the bare attic of his London home and the dirty London alleys30 that he had traversed only by night.
They wound across beautiful parklike meadows and through dark, forbidding forests, and now and again they passed tiny hamlets of thatched huts. Occasionally they saw armored knights32 upon the highway, alone or in small parties, but the child's companion always managed to hasten into cover at the road side until the grim riders had passed.
Once, as they lay in hiding in a dense33 wood beside a little open glade34 across which the road wound, the boy saw two knights enter the glade from either side. For a moment, they drew rein35 and eyed each other in silence, and then one, a great black mailed knight31 upon a black charger, cried out something to the other which the boy could not catch. The other knight made no response other than to rest his lance upon his thigh36 and with lowered point, ride toward his ebon adversary37. For a dozen paces their great steeds trotted38 slowly toward one another, but presently the knights urged them into full gallop39, and when the two iron men on their iron trapped chargers came together in the center of the glade, it was with all the terrific impact of full charge.
The lance of the black knight smote41 full upon the linden shield of his foeman, the staggering weight of the mighty43 black charger hurtled upon the gray, who went down with his rider into the dust of the highway. The momentum44 of the black carried him fifty paces beyond the fallen horseman before his rider could rein him in, then the black knight turned to view the havoc45 he had wrought46. The gray horse was just staggering dizzily to his feet, but his mailed rider lay quiet and still where he had fallen.
With raised visor, the black knight rode back to the side of his vanquished47 foe42. There was a cruel smile upon his lips as he leaned toward the prostrate49 form. He spoke tauntingly50, but there was no response, then he prodded51 the fallen man with the point of his spear. Even this elicited52 no movement. With a shrug16 of his iron clad shoulders, the black knight wheeled and rode on down the road until he had disappeared from sight within the gloomy shadows of the encircling forest.
“Some day thou shalt go and do likewise, my son,” said the little old woman.
“Shall I be clothed in armor and ride upon a great black steed?” he asked.
“Yes, and thou shalt ride the highways of England with thy stout54 lance and mighty sword, and behind thee thou shalt leave a trail of blood and death, for every man shalt be thy enemy. But come, we must be on our way.”
They rode on, leaving the dead knight where he had fallen, but always in his memory the child carried the thing that he had seen, longing55 for the day when he should be great and strong like the formidable black knight.
On another day, as they were biding56 in a deserted57 hovel to escape the notice of a caravan58 of merchants journeying up-country with their wares59, they saw a band of ruffians rush out from the concealing60 shelter of some bushes at the far side of the highway and fall upon the surprised and defenseless tradesmen.
Ragged61, bearded, uncouth62 villains63 they were, armed mostly with bludgeons and daggers64, with here and there a cross-bow. Without mercy they attacked the old and the young, beating them down in cold blood even when they offered no resistance. Those of the caravan who could, escaped, the balance the highwaymen left dead or dying in the road, as they hurried away with their loot.
At first the child was horror-struck, but when he turned to the little old woman for sympathy he found a grim smile upon her thin lips. She noted66 his expression of dismay.
“It is naught, my son. But English curs setting upon English swine. Some day thou shalt set upon both—they be only fit for killing67.”
The boy made no reply, but he thought a great deal about that which he had seen. Knights were cruel to knights—the poor were cruel to the rich—and every day of the journey had forced upon his childish mind that everyone must be very cruel and hard upon the poor. He had seen them in all their sorrow and misery68 and poverty—stretching a long, scattering69 line all the way from London town. Their bent backs, their poor thin bodies and their hopeless, sorrowful faces attesting70 the weary wretchedness of their existence.
“Be no one happy in all the world?” he once broke out to the old woman.
“Only he who wields71 the mightiest72 sword,” responded the old woman. “You have seen, my son, that all Englishmen are beasts. They set upon and kill one another for little provocation73 or for no provocation at all. When thou shalt be older, thou shalt go forth74 and kill them all for unless thou kill them, they will kill thee.”
At length, after tiresome75 days upon the road, they came to a little hamlet in the hills. Here the donkeys were disposed of and a great horse purchased, upon which the two rode far up into a rough and uninviting country away from the beaten track, until late one evening they approached a ruined castle.
The frowning walls towered high against the moonlit sky beyond, and where a portion of the roof had fallen in, the cold moon, shining through the narrow unglazed windows, gave to the mighty pile the likeness76 of a huge, many-eyed ogre crouching77 upon the flank of a deserted world, for nowhere was there other sign of habitation.
Before this somber78 pile, the two dismounted. The little boy was filled with awe79 and his childish imagination ran riot as they approached the crumbling barbican on foot, leading the horse after them. From the dark shadows of the ballium, they passed into the moonlit inner court. At the far end the old woman found the ancient stables, and here, with decaying planks80, she penned the horse for the night, pouring a measure of oats upon the floor for him from a bag which had hung across his rump.
Then she led the way into the dense shadows of the castle, lighting81 their advance with a flickering82 pine knot. The old planking of the floors, long unused, groaned83 and rattled84 beneath their approach. There was a sudden scamper85 of clawed feet before them, and a red fox dashed by in a frenzy86 of alarm toward the freedom of the outer night.
Presently they came to the great hall. The old woman pushed open the great doors upon their creaking hinges and lit up dimly the mighty, cavernous interior with the puny87 rays of their feeble torch. As they stepped cautiously within, an impalpable dust arose in little spurts88 from the long-rotted rushes that crumbled89 beneath their feet. A huge bat circled wildly with loud fluttering wings in evident remonstrance90 at this rude intrusion. Strange creatures of the night scurried91 or wriggled92 across wall and floor.
But the child was unafraid. Fear had not been a part of the old woman's curriculum. The boy did not know the meaning of the word, nor was he ever in his after-life to experience the sensation. With childish eagerness, he followed his companion as she inspected the interior of the chamber. It was still an imposing93 room. The boy clapped his hands in delight at the beauties of the carved and panelled walls and the oak beamed ceiling, stained almost black from the smoke of torches and oil cressets that had lighted it in bygone days, aided, no doubt, by the wood fires which had burned in its two immense fireplaces to cheer the merry throng94 of noble revellers that had so often sat about the great table into the morning hours.
Here they took up their abode95. But the bent, old woman was no longer an old woman—she had become a straight, wiry, active old man.
The little boy's education went on—French, swordsmanship and hatred of the English—the same thing year after year with the addition of horsemanship after he was ten years old. At this time the old man commenced teaching him to speak English, but with a studied and very marked French accent. During all his life now, he could not remember of having spoken to any living being other than his guardian96, whom he had been taught to address as father. Nor did the boy have any name—he was just “my son.”
His life in the Derby hills was so filled with the hard, exacting97 duties of his education that he had little time to think of the strange loneliness of his existence; nor is it probable that he missed that companionship of others of his own age of which, never having had experience in it, he could scarce be expected to regret or yearn98 for.
At fifteen, the youth was a magnificent swordsman and horseman, and with an utter contempt for pain or danger—a contempt which was the result of the heroic methods adopted by the little old man in the training of him. Often the two practiced with razor-sharp swords, and without armor or other protection of any description.
“Thus only,” the old man was wont to say, “mayst thou become the absolute master of thy blade. Of such a nicety must be thy handling of the weapon that thou mayst touch an antagonist99 at will and so lightly, shouldst thou desire, that thy point, wholly under the control of a master hand, mayst be stopped before it inflicts100 so much as a scratch.”
But in practice, there were many accidents, and then one or both of them would nurse a punctured101 skin for a few days. So, while blood was often let on both sides, the training produced a fearless swordsman who was so truly the master of his point that he could stop a thrust within a fraction of an inch of the spot he sought.
At fifteen, he was a very strong and straight and handsome lad. Bronzed and hardy102 from his outdoor life; of few words, for there was none that he might talk with save the taciturn old man; hating the English, for that he was taught as thoroughly103 as swordsmanship; speaking French fluently and English poorly—and waiting impatiently for the day when the old man should send him out into the world with clanking armor and lance and shield to do battle with the knights of England.
It was about this time that there occurred the first important break in the monotony of his existence. Far down the rocky trail that led from the valley below through the Derby hills to the ruined castle, three armored knights urged their tired horses late one afternoon of a chill autumn day. Off the main road and far from any habitation, they had espied104 the castle's towers through a rift18 in the hills, and now they spurred toward it in search of food and shelter.
As the road led them winding105 higher into the hills, they suddenly emerged upon the downs below the castle where a sight met their eyes which caused them to draw rein and watch in admiration106. There, before them upon the downs, a boy battled with a lunging, rearing horse—a perfect demon107 of a black horse. Striking and biting in a frenzy of rage, it sought ever to escape or injure the lithe108 figure which clung leech-like to its shoulder.
The boy was on the ground. His left hand grasped the heavy mane; his right arm lay across the beast's withers109 and his right hand drew steadily110 in upon a halter rope with which he had taken a half hitch111 about the horse's muzzle112. Now the black reared and wheeled, striking and biting, full upon the youth, but the active figure swung with him—always just behind the giant shoulder—and ever and ever he drew the great arched neck farther and farther to the right.
As the animal plunged113 hither and thither114 in great leaps, he dragged the boy with him, but all his mighty efforts were unavailing to loosen the grip upon mane and withers. Suddenly, he reared straight into the air carrying the youth with him, then with a vicious lunge he threw himself backward upon the ground.
“It's death!” exclaimed one of the knights, “he will kill the youth yet, Beauchamp.”
“No!” cried he addressed. “Look! He is up again and the boy still clings as tightly to him as his own black hide.”
“'Tis true,” exclaimed another, “but he hath lost what he had gained upon the halter—he must needs fight it all out again from the beginning.”
And so the battle went on again as before, the boy again drawing the iron neck slowly to the right—the beast fighting and squealing115 as though possessed116 of a thousand devils. A dozen times, as the head bent farther and farther toward him, the boy loosed his hold upon the mane and reached quickly down to grasp the near fore12 pastern. A dozen times the horse shook off the new hold, but at length the boy was successful, and the knee was bent and the hoof117 drawn118 up to the elbow.
Now the black fought at a disadvantage, for he was on but three feet and his neck was drawn about in an awkward and unnatural119 position. His efforts became weaker and weaker. The boy talked incessantly120 to him in a quiet voice, and there was a shadow of a smile upon his lips. Now he bore heavily upon the black withers, pulling the horse toward him. Slowly the beast sank upon his bent knee—pulling backward until his off fore leg was stretched straight before him. Then, with a final surge, the youth pulled him over upon his side, and, as he fell, slipped prone121 beside him. One sinewy122 hand shot to the rope just beneath the black chin—the other grasped a slim, pointed123 ear.
For a few minutes the horse fought and kicked to gain his liberty, but with his head held to the earth, he was as powerless in the hands of the boy as a baby would have been. Then he sank panting and exhausted124 into mute surrender.
“Well done!” cried one of the knights. “Simon de Montfort himself never mastered a horse in better order, my boy. Who be thou?”
In an instant, the lad was upon his feet his eyes searching for the speaker. The horse, released, sprang up also, and the two stood—the handsome boy and the beautiful black—gazing with startled eyes, like two wild things, at the strange intruder who confronted them.
“Come, Sir Mortimer!” cried the boy, and turning he led the prancing125 but subdued126 animal toward the castle and through the ruined barbican into the court beyond.
“What ho, there, lad!” shouted Paul of Merely. “We wouldst not harm thee—come, we but ask the way to the castle of De Stutevill.”
The three knights listened but there was no answer.
“Come, Sir Knights,” spoke Paul of Merely, “we will ride within and learn what manner of churls inhabit this ancient rookery.”
As they entered the great courtyard, magnificent even in its ruined grandeur127, they were met by a little, grim old man who asked them in no gentle tones what they would of them there.
“We have lost our way in these devilish Derby hills of thine, old man,” replied Paul of Merely. “We seek the castle of Sir John de Stutevill.”
“Ride down straight to the river road, keeping the first trail to the right, and when thou hast come there, turn again to thy right and ride north beside the river—thou canst not miss the way—it be plain as the nose before thy face,” and with that the old man turned to enter the castle.
“Hold, old fellow!” cried the spokesman. “It be nigh onto sunset now, and we care not to sleep out again this night as we did the last. We will tarry with you then till morn that we may take up our journey refreshed, upon rested steeds.”
The old man grumbled128, and it was with poor grace that he took them in to feed and house them over night. But there was nothing else for it, since they would have taken his hospitality by force had he refused to give it voluntarily.
From their guests, the two learned something of the conditions outside their Derby hills. The old man showed less interest than he felt, but to the boy, notwithstanding that the names he heard meant nothing to him, it was like unto a fairy tale to hear of the wondrous doings of earl and baron25, bishop129 and king.
“If the King does not mend his ways,” said one of the knights, “we will drive his whole accursed pack of foreign blood-suckers into the sea.”
“De Montfort has told him as much a dozen times, and now that all of us, both Norman and Saxon barons, have already met together and formed a pact40 for our mutual130 protection, the King must surely realize that the time for temporizing131 be past, and that unless he would have a civil war upon his hands, he must keep the promises he so glibly132 makes, instead of breaking them the moment De Montfort's back be turned.”
“He fears his brother-in-law,” interrupted another of the knights, “even more than the devil fears holy water. I was in attendance on his majesty133 some weeks since when he was going down the Thames upon the royal barge134. We were overtaken by as severe a thunder storm as I have ever seen, of which the King was in such abject135 fear that he commanded that we land at the Bishop of Durham's palace opposite which we then were. De Montfort, who was residing there, came to meet Henry, with all due respect, observing, 'What do you fear, now, Sire, the tempest has passed?' And what thinkest thou old 'waxen heart' replied? Why, still trembling, he said, 'I do indeed fear thunder and lightning much, but, by the hand of God, I tremble before you more than for all the thunder in Heaven!'”
“I surmise,” interjected the grim, old man, “that De Montfort has in some manner gained an ascendancy136 over the King. Think you he looks so high as the throne itself?”
“Not so,” cried the oldest of the knights. “Simon de Montfort works for England's weal alone—and methinks, nay137 knowest, that he would be first to spring to arms to save the throne for Henry. He but fights the King's rank and covetous138 advisers139, and though he must needs seem to defy the King himself, it be but to save his tottering140 power from utter collapse141. But, gad142, how the King hates him. For a time it seemed that there might be a permanent reconciliation143 when, for years after the disappearance of the little Prince Richard, De Montfort devoted144 much of his time and private fortune to prosecuting145 a search through all the world for the little fellow, of whom he was inordinately146 fond. This self-sacrificing interest on his part won over the King and Queen for many years, but of late his unremitting hostility147 to their continued extravagant148 waste of the national resources has again hardened them toward him.”
The old man, growing uneasy at the turn the conversation threatened, sent the youth from the room on some pretext149, and himself left to prepare supper.
As they were sitting at the evening meal, one of the nobles eyed the boy intently, for he was indeed good to look upon; his bright handsome face, clear, intelligent gray eyes, and square strong jaw150 framed in a mass of brown waving hair banged at the forehead and falling about his ears, where it was again cut square at the sides and back, after the fashion of the times.
His upper body was clothed in a rough under tunic151 of wool, stained red, over which he wore a short leathern jerkin, while his doublet was also of leather, a soft and finely tanned piece of undressed doeskin. His long hose, fitting his shapely legs as closely as another layer of skin, were of the same red wool as his tunic, while his strong leather sandals were cross-gartered halfway152 to his knees with narrow bands of leather.
A leathern girdle about his waist supported a sword and a dagger65 and a round skull153 cap of the same material, to which was fastened a falcon's wing, completed his picturesque154 and becoming costume.
“Your son?” he asked, turning to the old man.
“He favors you but little, old fellow, except in his cursed French accent.
“'S blood, Beauchamp,” he continued, turning to one of his companions, “an' were he set down in court, I wager156 our gracious Queen would he hard put to it to tell him from the young Prince Edward. Dids't ever see so strange a likeness?”
“Now that you speak of it, My Lord, I see it plainly. It is indeed a marvel,” answered Beauchamp.
Had they glanced at the old man during this colloquy157, they would have seen a blanched158 face, drawn with inward fear and rage.
Presently the oldest member of the party of three knights spoke in a grave quiet tone.
“And how old might you be, my son?” he asked the boy.
“I do not know.”
“And your name?”
“I do not know what you mean. I have no name. My father calls me son and no other ever before addressed me.”
At this juncture159, the old man arose and left the room, saving he would fetch more food from the kitchen, but he turned immediately he had passed the doorway160 and listened from without.
“The lad appears about fifteen,” said Paul of Merely, lowering his voice, “and so would be the little lost Prince Richard, if he lives. This one does not know his name, or his age, yet he looks enough like Prince Edward to be his twin.”
“Come, my son,” he continued aloud, “open your jerkin and let us have a look at your left breast, we shall read a true answer there.”
“Are you Englishmen?” asked the boy without making a move to comply with their demand.
“That we be, my son,” said Beauchamp.
“Then it were better that I die than do your bidding, for all Englishmen are pigs and I loathe161 them as becomes a gentleman of France. I do not uncover my body to the eyes of swine.”
The knights, at first taken back by this unexpected outbreak, finally burst into uproarious laughter.
“Indeed,” cried Paul of Merely, “spoken as one of the King's foreign favorites might speak, and they ever told the good God's truth. But come lad, we would not harm you—do as I bid.”
“No man lives who can harm me while a blade hangs at my side,” answered the boy, “and as for doing as you bid, I take orders from no man other than my father.”
Beauchamp and Greystoke laughed aloud at the discomfiture162 of Paul of Merely, but the latter's face hardened in anger, and without further words he strode forward with outstretched hand to tear open the boy's leathern jerkin, but met with the gleaming point of a sword and a quick sharp, “En garde!” from the boy.
There was naught for Paul of Merely to do but draw his own weapon, in self-defense, for the sharp point of the boy's sword was flashing in and out against his unprotected body, inflicting163 painful little jabs, and the boy's tongue was murmuring low-toned taunts164 and insults as it invited him to draw and defend himself or be stuck “like the English pig you are.”
Paul of Merely was a brave man and he liked not the idea of drawing against this stripling, but he argued that he could quickly disarm165 him without harming the lad, and he certainly did not care to be further humiliated166 before his comrades.
But when he had drawn and engaged his youthful antagonist, he discovered that, far from disarming167 him, he would have the devil's own job of it to keep from being killed.
Never in all his long years of fighting had he faced such an agile168 and dexterous169 enemy, and as they backed this way and that about the room, great beads170 of sweat stood upon the brow of Paul of Merely, for he realized that he was fighting for his life against a superior swordsman.
The loud laughter of Beauchamp and Greystoke soon subsided171 to grim smiles, and presently they looked on with startled faces in which fear and apprehension172 were dominant173.
The boy was fighting as a cat might play with a mouse. No sign of exertion174 was apparent, and his haughty175 confident smile told louder than words that he had in no sense let himself out to his full capacity.
Around and around the room they circled, the boy always advancing, Paul of Merely always retreating. The din4 of their clashing swords and the heavy breathing of the older man were the only sounds, except as they brushed against a bench or a table.
Paul of Merely was a brave man, but he shuddered176 at the thought of dying uselessly at the hands of a mere boy. He would not call upon his friends for aid, but presently, to his relief, Beauchamp sprang between them with drawn sword, crying “Enough, gentlemen, enough! You have no quarrel. Sheathe177 your swords.”
But the boy's only response was, “En garde, cochon,” and Beauchamp found himself taking the center of the stage in the place of his friend. Nor did the boy neglect Paul of Merely, but engaged them both in swordplay that caused the eyes of Greystoke to bulge178 from their sockets179.
So swiftly moved his flying blade that half the time it was a sheet of gleaming light, and now he was driving home his thrusts and the smile had frozen upon his lips—grim and stern.
Paul of Merely and Beauchamp were wounded in a dozen places when Greystoke rushed to their aid, and then it was that a little, wiry, gray man leaped agilely180 from the kitchen doorway, and with drawn sword took his place beside the boy. It was now two against three and the three may have guessed, though they never knew, that they were pitted against the two greatest swordsmen in the world.
“To the death,” cried the little gray man, “a mort, mon fils.” Scarcely had the words left his lips ere, as though it had but waited permission, the boy's sword flashed into the heart of Paul of Merely, and a Saxon gentleman was gathered to his fathers.
The old man engaged Greystoke now, and the boy turned his undivided attention to Beauchamp. Both these men were considered excellent swordsmen, but when Beauchamp heard again the little gray man's “a mort, mon fils,” he shuddered, and the little hairs at the nape of his neck rose up, and his spine181 froze, for he knew that he had heard the sentence of death passed upon him; for no mortal had yet lived who could vanquish48 such a swordsman as he who now faced him.
As Beauchamp pitched forward across a bench, dead, the little old man led Greystoke to where the boy awaited him.
“They are thy enemies, my son, and to thee belongs the pleasure of revenge; a mort, mon fils.”
Greystoke was determined182 to sell his life dearly, and he rushed the lad as a great bull might rush a teasing dog, but the boy gave back not an inch and, when Greystoke stopped, there was a foot of cold steel protruding183 from his back.
Together they buried the knights at the bottom of the dry moat at the back of the ruined castle. First they had stripped them and, when they took account of the spoils of the combat, they found themselves richer by three horses with full trappings, many pieces of gold and silver money, ornaments184 and jewels, as well as the lances, swords and chain mail armor of their erstwhile guests.
But the greatest gain, the old man thought to himself, was that the knowledge of the remarkable185 resemblance between his ward29 and Prince Edward of England had come to him in time to prevent the undoing186 of his life's work.
The boy, while young, was tall and broad shouldered, and so the old man had little difficulty in fitting one of the suits of armor to him, obliterating187 the devices so that none might guess to whom it had belonged. This he did, and from then on the boy never rode abroad except in armor, and when he met others upon the high road, his visor was always lowered that none might see his face.
The day following the episode of the three knights the old man called the boy to him, saying,
“It is time, my son, that thou learned an answer to such questions as were put to thee yestereve by the pigs of Henry. Thou art fifteen years of age, and thy name be Norman, and so, as this be the ancient castle of Torn, thou mayst answer those whom thou desire to know it that thou art Norman of Torn; that thou be a French gentleman whose father purchased Torn and brought thee hither from France on the death of thy mother, when thou wert six years old.
“But remember, Norman of Torn, that the best answer for an Englishman is the sword; naught else may penetrate188 his thick wit.”
And so was born that Norman of Torn, whose name in a few short years was to strike terror to the hearts of Englishmen, and whose power in the vicinity of Torn was greater than that of the King or the barons.
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disappearance
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| n.消失，消散，失踪 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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attic
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| n.顶楼，屋顶室 | |
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din
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| n.喧闹声，嘈杂声 | |
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wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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6
dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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7
mantle
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| n.斗篷，覆罩之物，罩子；v.罩住，覆盖，脸红 | |
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8
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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9
reigning
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| adj.统治的，起支配作用的 | |
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10
wield
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| vt.行使，运用，支配；挥，使用(武器等) | |
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recesses
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| n.壁凹( recess的名词复数 )；（工作或业务活动的）中止或暂停期间；学校的课间休息；某物内部的凹形空间v.把某物放在墙壁的凹处( recess的第三人称单数 )；将（墙）做成凹形，在（墙）上做壁龛；休息，休会，休庭 | |
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fore
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| adv.在前面；adj.先前的；在前部的；n.前部 | |
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13
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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14
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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15
shrugs
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| n.耸肩（以表示冷淡，怀疑等）( shrug的名词复数 ) | |
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shrug
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| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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17
wrested
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| （用力）拧( wrest的过去式和过去分词 )； 费力取得； （从…）攫取； （ 从… ） 强行取去… | |
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18
rift
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| n.裂口，隙缝，切口；v.裂开，割开，渗入 | |
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19
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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20
wondrous
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| adj.令人惊奇的，奇妙的；adv.惊人地；异乎寻常地；令人惊叹地 | |
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21
crumbling
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| adj.摇摇欲坠的 | |
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22
masonry
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| n.砖土建筑；砖石 | |
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23
peevishly
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| adv．暴躁地 | |
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24
sagged
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| 下垂的 | |
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25
baron
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| n.男爵；(商业界等)巨头，大王 | |
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26
barons
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| 男爵( baron的名词复数 )； 巨头； 大王； 大亨 | |
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27
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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28
accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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29
ward
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| n.守卫，监护，病房，行政区，由监护人或法院保护的人（尤指儿童）；vt.守护，躲开 | |
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30
alleys
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| 胡同，小巷( alley的名词复数 )； 小径 | |
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31
knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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32
knights
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| 骑士； （中古时代的）武士( knight的名词复数 )； 骑士； 爵士； （国际象棋中）马 | |
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33
dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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34
glade
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| n.林间空地，一片表面有草的沼泽低地 | |
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35
rein
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| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
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36
thigh
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| n.大腿；股骨 | |
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37
adversary
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| adj.敌手，对手 | |
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38
trotted
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| 小跑，急走( trot的过去分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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39
gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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40
pact
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| n.合同，条约，公约，协定 | |
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41
smote
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| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
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42
foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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43
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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44
momentum
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| n.动力，冲力，势头；动量 | |
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45
havoc
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| n.大破坏，浩劫，大混乱，大杂乱 | |
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46
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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47
vanquished
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| v.征服( vanquish的过去式和过去分词 )；战胜；克服；抑制 | |
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48
vanquish
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| v.征服，战胜；克服；抑制 | |
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49
prostrate
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| v.拜倒，平卧，衰竭；adj.拜倒的，平卧的，衰竭的 | |
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50
tauntingly
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| 嘲笑地，辱骂地； 嘲骂地 | |
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51
prodded
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| v.刺，戳( prod的过去式和过去分词 )；刺激；促使；（用手指或尖物）戳 | |
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52
elicited
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| 引出，探出( elicit的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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53
naught
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| n.无，零 [=nought] | |
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55
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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56
biding
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| v.等待，停留( bide的现在分词 )；居住；（过去式用bided）等待；面临 | |
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57
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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58
caravan
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| n.大蓬车；活动房屋 | |
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59
wares
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| n. 货物, 商品 | |
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60
concealing
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，遮住( conceal的现在分词 ) | |
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61
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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62
uncouth
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| adj.无教养的，粗鲁的 | |
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63
villains
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| n.恶棍( villain的名词复数 )；罪犯；（小说、戏剧等中的）反面人物；淘气鬼 | |
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64
daggers
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| 匕首，短剑( dagger的名词复数 ) | |
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65
dagger
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| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
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66
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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67
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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68
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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69
scattering
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| n.[物]散射；散乱，分散；在媒介质中的散播adj.散乱的；分散在不同范围的；广泛扩散的；（选票）数量分散的v.散射(scatter的ing形式)；散布；驱散 | |
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70
attesting
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| v.证明( attest的现在分词 )；证实；声称…属实；使宣誓 | |
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71
wields
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| 手持着使用（武器、工具等）( wield的第三人称单数 )； 具有； 运用（权力）； 施加（影响） | |
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72
mightiest
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| adj.趾高气扬( mighty的最高级 )；巨大的；强有力的；浩瀚的 | |
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73
provocation
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| n.激怒，刺激，挑拨，挑衅的事物，激怒的原因 | |
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74
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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75
tiresome
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| adj.令人疲劳的，令人厌倦的 | |
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76
likeness
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| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
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77
crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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78
somber
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| adj.昏暗的，阴天的，阴森的，忧郁的 | |
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79
awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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80
planks
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| （厚）木板( plank的名词复数 )； 政纲条目，政策要点 | |
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81
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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82
flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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83
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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84
rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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85
scamper
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| v.奔跑，快跑 | |
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86
frenzy
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| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
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87
puny
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| adj.微不足道的，弱小的 | |
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88
spurts
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| 短暂而突然的活动或努力( spurt的名词复数 )； 突然奋起 | |
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89
crumbled
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| （把…）弄碎， （使）碎成细屑( crumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 衰落； 坍塌； 损坏 | |
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90
remonstrance
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| n抗议，抱怨 | |
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91
scurried
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| v.急匆匆地走( scurry的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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92
wriggled
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| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的过去式和过去分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等） | |
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93
imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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94
throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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95
abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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96
guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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97
exacting
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| adj.苛求的，要求严格的 | |
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98
yearn
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| v.想念；怀念；渴望 | |
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99
antagonist
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| n.敌人，对抗者，对手 | |
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100
inflicts
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| 把…强加给，使承受，遭受( inflict的第三人称单数 ) | |
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101
punctured
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| v.在（某物）上穿孔( puncture的过去式和过去分词 )；刺穿（某物）；削弱（某人的傲气、信心等）；泄某人的气 | |
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102
hardy
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| adj.勇敢的，果断的，吃苦的；耐寒的 | |
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103
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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104
espied
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| v.看到( espy的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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105
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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106
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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107
demon
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| n.魔鬼，恶魔 | |
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108
lithe
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| adj.(指人、身体)柔软的，易弯的 | |
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109
withers
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| 马肩隆 | |
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110
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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111
hitch
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| v.免费搭(车旅行)；系住；急提；n.故障；急拉 | |
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112
muzzle
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| n.鼻口部；口套；枪(炮)口；vt.使缄默 | |
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113
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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114
thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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115
squealing
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| v.长声尖叫，用长而尖锐的声音说( squeal的现在分词 ) | |
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116
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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117
hoof
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| n.(马，牛等的)蹄 | |
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118
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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119
unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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120
incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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121
prone
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| adj.(to)易于…的，很可能…的；俯卧的 | |
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122
sinewy
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| adj.多腱的，强壮有力的 | |
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123
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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124
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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125
prancing
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| v.（马）腾跃( prance的现在分词 ) | |
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126
subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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127
grandeur
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| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
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128
grumbled
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| 抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
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129
bishop
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| n.主教，（国际象棋）象 | |
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130
mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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131
temporizing
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| v.敷衍( temporize的现在分词 )；拖延；顺应时势；暂时同意 | |
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132
glibly
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| adv.流利地，流畅地；满口 | |
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133
majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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134
barge
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| n.平底载货船，驳船 | |
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135
abject
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| adj.极可怜的，卑屈的 | |
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136
ascendancy
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| n.统治权，支配力量 | |
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137
nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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138
covetous
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| adj.贪婪的，贪心的 | |
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139
advisers
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| 顾问，劝告者( adviser的名词复数 )； （指导大学新生学科问题等的）指导教授 | |
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140
tottering
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| adj.蹒跚的，动摇的v.走得或动得不稳( totter的现在分词 )；踉跄；蹒跚；摇摇欲坠 | |
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141
collapse
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| vi.累倒；昏倒；倒塌；塌陷 | |
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142
gad
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| n.闲逛；v.闲逛 | |
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143
reconciliation
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| n.和解，和谐，一致 | |
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144
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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145
prosecuting
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| 检举、告发某人( prosecute的现在分词 )； 对某人提起公诉； 继续从事（某事物）； 担任控方律师 | |
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146
inordinately
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| adv.无度地，非常地 | |
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147
hostility
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| n.敌对，敌意；抵制［pl.］交战，战争 | |
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148
extravagant
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| adj.奢侈的；过分的；(言行等)放肆的 | |
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149
pretext
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| n.借口，托词 | |
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150
jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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151
tunic
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| n.束腰外衣 | |
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152
halfway
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| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
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153
skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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154
picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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155
growling
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| n.吠声, 咆哮声 v.怒吠, 咆哮, 吼 | |
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156
wager
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| n.赌注；vt.押注，打赌 | |
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157
colloquy
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| n.谈话，自由讨论 | |
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158
blanched
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| v.使变白( blanch的过去式 )；使（植物）不见阳光而变白；酸洗（金属）使有光泽；用沸水烫（杏仁等）以便去皮 | |
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159
juncture
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| n.时刻，关键时刻，紧要关头 | |
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160
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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161
loathe
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| v.厌恶，嫌恶 | |
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162
discomfiture
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| n.崩溃；大败；挫败；困惑 | |
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163
inflicting
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| 把…强加给，使承受，遭受( inflict的现在分词 ) | |
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164
taunts
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| 嘲弄的言语，嘲笑，奚落( taunt的名词复数 ) | |
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165
disarm
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| v.解除武装，回复平常的编制，缓和 | |
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166
humiliated
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| 感到羞愧的 | |
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167
disarming
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| adj.消除敌意的，使人消气的v.裁军( disarm的现在分词 )；使息怒 | |
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168
agile
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| adj.敏捷的，灵活的 | |
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169
dexterous
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| adj.灵敏的；灵巧的 | |
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170
beads
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| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
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171
subsided
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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172
apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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173
dominant
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| adj.支配的，统治的；占优势的；显性的；n.主因，要素，主要的人(或物)；显性基因 | |
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174
exertion
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| n.尽力，努力 | |
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175
haughty
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| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
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176
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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177
sheathe
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| v.（将刀剑）插入鞘；包，覆盖 | |
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178
bulge
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| n.突出，膨胀，激增；vt.突出，膨胀 | |
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179
sockets
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| n.套接字，使应用程序能够读写与收发通讯协定(protocol)与资料的程序( Socket的名词复数 )；孔( socket的名词复数 )；（电器上的）插口；托座；凹穴 | |
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180
agilely
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| adv.敏捷地 | |
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181
spine
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| n.脊柱，脊椎；(动植物的)刺；书脊 | |
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182
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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183
protruding
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| v.（使某物）伸出，（使某物）突出( protrude的现在分词 )；凸 | |
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184
ornaments
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| n.装饰( ornament的名词复数 )；点缀；装饰品；首饰v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的第三人称单数 ) | |
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185
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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186
undoing
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| n.毁灭的原因，祸根；破坏，毁灭 | |
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187
obliterating
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| v.除去( obliterate的现在分词 )；涂去；擦掉；彻底破坏或毁灭 | |
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188
penetrate
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| v.透(渗)入；刺入，刺穿；洞察，了解 | |
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