A number of figures showed black about a fire that had been lit in the center of the roofless hall. John Falconer was there, sullen2, heavy-eyed—a man who found no pleasure in looking at his own thoughts; also Sir Gregory, skull-faced and ominous3, with blue eyes that stared. A hot posset was going around in a big tankard. These gentlemen had but little to say to one another; they were waiting; the case had been heard, and judgment4 given.
The man who had gone a-spying up the tower came and stood before Sir Gregory.
“The priest is not this side of the door, lording.”
John Falconer’s sullen eyes seemed to catch the light of the fire.
“You lie!”
“See for yourself, Master Falconer. What’s more, he is asleep across the door, for I could hear a sound of breathing.”
A grim laugh went around the fire. Ironical5 looks were thrown at Falconer, who was frowning and biting his beard.
“Such insolence7 must be chastened; we must be rid of this bastard8. Hallo, there! Axes for the breaking of a door.”
A little man with a sallow face and bright black eyes stood forward.
“The room has a window, sir.”
“Well?”
“Breaking the door is a clumsy device, and this Valliant is desperate strong. Why not use the window, gentlemen, and crawl in upon him while he is asleep?”
“Most excellent! But will God give us a ladder twenty feet long?”
“There is no need for a ladder. Strain a stout9 rope over the battlement so that it runs in front of the window, and men can slide down the rope.”
“Well thought of.”
“Wait, gentlemen. Let no violence be done this man. He has served us, and will suffer for it.”
“What would you, John Falconer?”
“Let him be taken, mastered, stripped of his harness and his arms, and turned out into the woods. His blood should not be upon our hands.”
“I stand for that—or nothing.”
“By my soul, such a punishment is better than blows. There is a certain subtlety13 about it. I put my seal to the document. Some one fetch the rope.”
The work was done noiselessly by men who crept about on bare feet, and without as much as a whisper. John Falconer and a dozen of his own fellows were ready on the stairs. Four men were to slide down the rope, enter by the window, and while three of them fell upon Martin Valliant, the fourth was to unbar the door.
Nature willed it that Mellis and her man should sleep heavily that night, solaced14 by the innocent sweetness of being so near each other, so full of a happy faith in their great love. They slept like children, Mellis on her bed, Martin lying across the door, his arms folded, his naked sword beside him.
He woke to a cry from Mellis.
“Martin—Martin! Guard yourself!”
The last man to enter by the window had slipped on the sill, and blundered against the man in front of him; and Mellis, opening her eyes, had seen him outlined dimly against the window.
Her warning came too late. The fellows had thrown themselves on Martin before he could rise, and had dragged him from the door. One of them pulled out the bar, and threw the door open.
He shouted to those on the stairs, and Falconer’s voice took up the cry.
“Torches—torches! Forward! Up with you, and follow me.”
Mellis had slipped out of bed and was trying to find the sword that Martin had brought her out of the vault15. She could hear men struggling in the room, but the light was too dim for her to see what was passing. A horror of helplessness seized her; she shrank back against the wall, with her hands pressed to her ears.
“Help, there—help!”
Martin had broken free and was on his feet. One man lay writhing16 with a bone in his throat broken; another had been thrown against the wall and stunned17. Martin had another fellow lying bent18 across his knees and was choking him, while the fourth man clung to his feet.
Then Falconer and his torches came up the stairs; the doorway19 filled with smoke and glare and steel.
A sudden palsy seemed to strike all the players in that tragedy. Valliant let go of the man whom he was throttling20, while the fellow who had been clinging to Martin’s ankles squirmed away toward the door. Martin stood motionless, like a wrestler21 touched by enchantment22 and turned into a statue; Mellis, her hands to her ears, her eyes two great black circles, leaned against the wall; Falconer, with torch and sword in the doorway, held back the men who were behind him.
Martin’s sword lay close to Mellis’s bed. His eyes looked at it, but he did not move.
Then Falconer spoke.
“Martin Valliant, no harm is meant you. Leave the sword lying there; it will not avail.”
Mellis’s lips moved, but no sound came from them. She moved forward into the room, and her eyes were on John Falconer’s face.
“Traitor!”
“Valliant, we captains have sworn not to keep you as one of us. It is our right to choose; we have our reasons. No harm shall be done you; you shall go out into the Forest—as you came from it. Take your life, man; this room is no place for you, and no place for brawls24 and violence.”
Martin’s face was gray and haggard. The muscles stood out like cords in his throat, and he drew his breath heavily. He gave one glance at Mellis, and moved suddenly toward the door.
“Explicit,” he said, crossing his hands upon his chest. “God have mercy on us all, John Falconer.”
The men seized him and hurried him down the stairway, nor did he resist. In the courtyard they stripped him of his armor, leaving him nothing but his old cassock, a girdle and a knife. He was taken across the bridge and through the camp to the beech25 wood. A knight26 in black harness was waiting there, leaning on his sword. One of the men gave Martin a wallet full of food.
The knight—it was Sir Gregory—went close to Martin, and stared into his face.
“Let us not see you again,” he said. “Go—and take your shame and your sin away from us.”
And Martin Valliant went from them into the darkness like a broken man carrying a curse.
John Falconer had cleared the men from the room, and set his torch in a rusty29 bracket on the wall, where it threw a wayward, draughty flare30 upon his face. Mellis stood by the window with her back turned to him, rigid31, motionless, her hands at her throat.
“There will come a time when you will thank me for this.”
She was struggling for self-mastery, and against the bitter shame that they had thrust upon her, while her heart had gone out into the darkness with Martin Valliant, and in a way she was desperate, robbed of her love. She might have come through her anguish32 in silence had John Falconer been less of a dull and jealous fool.
“Now get you to bed, child; there will be peace in this house.”
“Peace!”
She flashed around on him with generous fury.
“Peace—for me, when you have treated me as though I were a harlot? Oh, you blind fools, you souls full of foul33 imaginings! That man was a saint, white as God’s own self. And you have robbed me of such a love as a man but seldom gives to a woman. Yes, he could have taken that sword and given death to many of your curs, but there was a nobleness, a humility34, that did not touch you. He knew what was in your hearts, that you hated him, were jealous, breathed foul lies. He besought35 me to let him go. And I—I bade him stay. I would that he had taken all that a woman has to give; yes, my very body and soul. There is the truth; I fling it in your face, John Falconer, you sour and godly and grudging36 hound!”
“It was for your sake I did it. For you are precious to us.”
“My sake! Ye gods! Is a woman’s love to be put in pawn39 by gray fools and wiseacres? I tell you I am his; I shall die his; I would that he had taken all that I had to give. And I am precious to you? Never, by my soul! I cast you off! I am your enemy henceforth, and every man here is my mortal foe40. May disaster befall you all! May you be cut off, slain41, trampled42 into the earth! Get you gone out of this room; my love has slept here, and you do foul it.”
She advanced on him, and he went back before her, covering his face with his arm.
“You will thank me—yet,” he said.
“Nay, I shall die before I thank you,” and she closed the door on him as he went out.
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1
omen
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| n.征兆，预兆；vt.预示 | |
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sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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3
ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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ironical
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| adj.讽刺的，冷嘲的 | |
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6
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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7
insolence
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| n.傲慢；无礼；厚颜；傲慢的态度 | |
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8
bastard
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| n.坏蛋，混蛋；私生子 | |
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10
stupor
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| v.昏迷；不省人事 | |
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11
plausible
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| adj.似真实的，似乎有理的，似乎可信的 | |
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12
chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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13
subtlety
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| n.微妙，敏锐，精巧；微妙之处，细微的区别 | |
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14
solaced
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| v.安慰，慰藉( solace的过去分词 ) | |
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15
vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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16
writhing
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的现在分词 ) | |
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17
stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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18
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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19
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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20
throttling
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| v.扼杀( throttle的现在分词 )；勒死；使窒息；压制 | |
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21
wrestler
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| n.摔角选手，扭 | |
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22
enchantment
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| n.迷惑，妖术，魅力 | |
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23
twitched
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| vt.& vi.（使）抽动，（使）颤动（twitch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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24
brawls
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| 吵架，打架( brawl的名词复数 ) | |
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25
beech
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| n.山毛榉；adj.山毛榉的 | |
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26
knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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27
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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28
beeches
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| n.山毛榉( beech的名词复数 )；山毛榉木材 | |
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29
rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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30
flare
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| v.闪耀，闪烁；n.潮红；突发 | |
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31
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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32
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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33
foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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34
humility
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| n.谦逊，谦恭 | |
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35
besought
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| v.恳求，乞求（某事物）( beseech的过去式和过去分词 )；(beseech的过去式与过去分词) | |
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36
grudging
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| adj.勉强的，吝啬的 | |
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37
scorched
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| 烧焦，烤焦( scorch的过去式和过去分词 )； 使（植物）枯萎，把…晒枯； 高速行驶； 枯焦 | |
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38
hoarsely
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| adv.嘶哑地 | |
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39
pawn
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| n.典当，抵押，小人物，走卒；v.典当，抵押 | |
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40
foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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41
slain
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| 杀死，宰杀，杀戮( slay的过去分词 )； (slay的过去分词) | |
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42
trampled
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| 踩( trample的过去式和过去分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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