Forest Days. G. P. R. James

of Gloucester stood me in good stead. These are riddles, my good lord, but they are easily read. Hark to another, not much more difficult. My hundred men are not few, but many; for each man, besides a sheaf of arrows, has a sheaf of friends, and about the same number of each. We shall not count much less than two thousand, noble sir, in the day of need, and that day is coming faster than you imagine."

      "There are clouds in the sky, certainly," replied the Earl,

      "They overshadow the sun," rejoined the outlaw, abruptly. "The news I had to tell you, but an hour ago, was merely that the King had contrived to lead my lord of Leicester away from his resources, and that Gloucester is fortifying himself in the marches of Wales--that he has refused to be present at the tournament of Northampton, and that people flock to him who are known to be favourers of the foreigners."

      "I have heard something of this," said the Earl, "but knew not that it had gone so far."

      "Farther--farther, my lord," replied the other--"farther a great deal! I have more tidings for you now. Gloucester is proclaimed a traitor, Leicester has fallen back upon the Severn, and I fear me that means have been taken to amuse the good Earl's son in that business of Pevensey. Look at that letter, my lord."

      "Ay this bears the likeness of war, indeed," replied the Earl, after reading a paper which his companion, gave to him--"this bears the likeness of war, indeed; and I am glad it has come to this. Gloucester is a loss to the good cause, it is true, though he is cold and cautious----"

      "And selfish, and treacherous, and cunning," added the outlaw.

      "But still there is little to fear," continued the Earl, "he is no more competent to cope with Simon de Montfort, than an usher's white rod with a soldier's battle-axe."

      "He wants the energy of a strong will," said the outlaw, "and therefore can never be a great man; but still his influence makes him dangerous, my lord, and you must look to it."

      "We will not despise him," replied the Earl; "but still I fear him not. So long as the Prince is in the hands of De Montfort, the freedom of England is secure. He is the power of the royal party, but we have taken care that he shall have no means of acting--nominally free, but watched, day and night--his servants, his keepers--his companions, his gaolers. I could grieve for the noble Prince, I must confess, were it not that the safety of the whole realm, the freedom of every man within it, and the happiness of every English hearth, demand that he should be prevented by any means from giving strength to his father's weakness by his own powerful mind."

      "I grieve for him, too," replied the outlaw. "I once, at York, saw an eagle in a cage, my lord; and though it looked at me fiercely, as if it would have torn me for my pains, I broke the bars, and let the noble bird go free."

      "We must not do that here," replied the Earl.

      "I fear not," answered his companion. "Nevertheless, I grieve for the Prince with all my heart; and would he but swear and keep his oath, which princes seldom do, I would be the first to give him his liberty, upon a promise to respect ours."

      "We have tried that, good Robin," replied the Earl, "and we must do so no more. The wisest man that ever lived, said, 'Put not your faith in princes;' and this young leopard must, I fear, be kept in a chain, however sad it be to fetter noble energies like his."

      "Make the chain strong enough, then, my lord," said the outlaw; "for if he breaks it, he will be more fierce than ever."

      "Forged by Simon de Montfort, it will be strong enough," answered the Earl; "but let us think of farther proceedings. So, Gloucester is proclaimed a traitor?"

      "Ay, and Mortimer, too," replied the forester, "and a number of others. Many of the lords marchers have joined him, you see, and his power is daily increasing."

      "Then it is time," said the Earl, "for the friends of England to gather round De Montfort. A battle cannot be far distant. Doubtless there will be letters for me at Nottingham, and I will soon let you know where you can meet us with your brave archers. Gloucester's day is over, and--"

      "I know what you would add, my lord," replied the forester, "but I say, No. This outlawry sits more easily on my shoulders than you can think. Heaven forbid that you should ever have to try our life; but, were such the case, you would soon grow fond of it. There is a charm in these wild woods, and in our free existence amongst them, which leaves the parade of the city or the castle sadly tasteless in the comparison. No, my lord, I am well as I am, for the present. No man can call me traitor; for kings and princes have cast off my allegiance, and I have cast off their rule. Perhaps when happier days come back--when England's wounds are healed--when justice and honour hold the sway, and peace and liberty go hand in hand, I may reclaim my rights, my lord, and ask your voice to testify that the Outlaw of Sherwood was as just in his dealings, as true to his country, and as fearless in her defence as any judge in his court, or statesman in the hall, or knight in the saddle. But till then--good faith," he added, in a gayer tone, "I live a merry life of it here, and am troubled with no remorse for the deeds I do under the green leaf of the wood. However, enough of myself, and as for your letters, you will find none at Nottingham. The sheriff is no friend of Simon de Montfort, and that the Earl of Leicester knows by this time. I would wager, my lord, a pipe of Malvoisie to a flitch of bacon, that if you go on to Nottingham, you will be a tarrier in the castle for longer than you reckon."

      "If so," replied Monthermer, "the Earl of Ashby is a prisoner there by this time."

      "Not so, my lord," said the outlaw, drily "the Earl of Ashby has had other things to do."

      "Why, I thought that but now," exclaimed the Earl, "you did not know where our good friend was?"

      "True," answered his companion, "but I know what waited him at Nottingham, if he arrived there yesterday.--Besides, my good lord, he has a friend at court. Richard de Ashby passed through Nottingham before him, was with the sheriff in close consultation for an hour, and doubtless set forth duly, 'how good a subject the Earl is to the King, and how humble a servant to the Earl of Gloucester.'--Take care, my lord, that you are not betrayed, as well as deceived.--There is a viper under your hand; and it may sting you."

      "No--no--no!" said the old nobleman, shaking his head. "The Ashbys are incapable of treachery: proud and irascible they both are, father and son; but even in their pride there is no dishonour, though----"

      "Though pride be the most dishonest of all our knave passions;" interrupted the outlaw, "ay, and the meanest, too! But I believe you, my good lord, they will not betray you, either father or son, but they will betray themselves; and their roguish kinsman will betray you and them every one. You judge, perhaps, that he came down but upon the lewd errand of carrying off a peasant girl, but his business in Barnsdale was of a darker character than that. Prisoner as the King now is, and watched as the Prince now seems, they have agents over all the land."

      "But can you be sure," said the Earl--"can you prove that this Richard de Ashby is one of them? Base, I have always believed him to be; and I recollect that while the feud existed between our two families, he did all in his power to keep it alive, and prevent the breach from ever being healed--pandering, like all mean sycophants, to the fiercer passions of their lords; but I ever judged him a petty scoundrel, fit only to cheat at cross and pile, or accomplish the ruin of a milkmaid. I think not, Robin, that he has courage to deal with much greater things. Have you any proof of his treachery in this business?"

      "Something I know, my lord," replied the outlaw, "and much more do I suspect--let them take my counsel who like it. What will you have? He was first with Mortimer, and then with Gloucester; and then, making a circuit round, to seem as if he came from the side of Norfolk, he visited Leicester at Northampton, and spent two days there, seeing the King thrice, and the Prince as often. Thence he went back to London, was purveyed with a spy, one Richard Keen, a servant of the King's who fled from Lewes; and thus accompanied, he followed you to Pontefract."

      "I will tax him with it in his kinsman's presence," said Monthermer. "The good Lord of Ashby wants not sense and discrimination. He was eager for the business to be inquired into before, but the man's flight with the light-o'-love girl of the inn broke off the investigation. Think you his master has really any