CHAPTER IV   HOW GEOFFREY LYSLE CROSSED THE CHANNEL

Sir Thomas Carberry was as good as his word. He rode over to Warblington betimes on the following morning, where he was welcomed by the châtelaine and her assembled household.

Being a man of action, the knight lost no time in dealing with the matter that had brought him thither.

"I can well understand Sir Oliver's wishes in this matter," he remarked. "Since he will not have a ransom paid on his behalf, and on the other hand the Tyrant of Malevereux doth threaten him with death should the gold not be forthcoming, it is certain that we are in a strait. Thou sayest that the garrison of Taillemartel is not strong enough to assail the baron's stronghold? Then some other plan must be considered. Methinks the great thing is to gain time with this recreant Lord of Malevereux. To that end it would be well to reply guardedly to his letter."

"But not to promise payment of the ransom?"

"Not in plain words. Write that ere the Feast of Saint Silvester the demands of the Lord of Malevereux will be met. That need be all; thy husband's squire can deliver the message, since he hath been promised safe conduct."

"But will the Tyrant keep to his word concerning the good treatment of Oswald?" demurred the Lady Bertha. "It is hardly meet that the lad should be placed in the power of this recreant knight."

"For my part I care but little, fair lady," said Sir Oliver's squire. "Since my place is with my lord—and 'twas not my doing that I was compelled to leave him at Malevereux—I'll bear the letter to Sir Yves in person. Should he think fit to keep his word, well and good; otherwise I must rest content that I am to be kept in durance with Sir Oliver."

"Well spoken, squire," exclaimed Sir Thomas Carberry. "See to it that thy actions are as brave as thy speech. Now, there is yet another point. Who holds the Castle of Taillemartel in Sir Oliver's absence?"

The châtelaine did not reply. Instinctively she realized the motive of the question.

"Hath my son said aught to thee concerning his wish to go Franceward?" she asked.

"Fair lady, he hath," replied the knight. "Moreover, 'tis right and meet that he, as Sir Oliver's son, should hold Taillemartel in his father's absence. Thrust aside thy feelings as a mother, Lady Bertha, and make a sacrifice to duty. The lad, from what I know of him—and that is not a little—hath courage, wisdom, and discretion beyond his years. Let him have the ordering of Taillemartel, and I'll warrant he'll prove a right worthy limb of the old Lysle stock."

"And what can be done towards the actual setting free of my husband?"

"Concerning myself, this affair could not have happened at a more inopportune time. Until I learn King Harry's wishes I am tied to my Castle of Portchester; otherwise would I right gladly take a troop of lances, add them to the garrison of Taillemartel, and together they would have the Castle of Malevereux about its owner's ears in less than a week. Did Sir Oliver ever mention the name of Sir Raoul d'Aulx, seigneur of Maissons?"

"I cannot call the name to mind."

"This Sir Raoul is a Burgundian knight, a right worthy gentleman of good repute. Sir Oliver and I fought side by side with him 'gainst the Paynims of Barbary, under the late King, when he was but Henry of Lancaster. Now it is in my mind to write to the Seigneur of Maissons that he should beleaguer the Castle of Malevereux; knowing that he hath just cause 'gainst Sir Yves, and that he hath great regard for Sir Oliver, this request may find favour in Sir Raoul's eyes. To that end I'll send my squire, Richard Ratclyffe, with thy son and Sir Oliver's squire, Oswald Steyning. When will Geoffrey be ready for the journey?"

"The Grâce à Dieu lies in the harbour fit to take the sea within an hour," replied the châtelaine with a sigh, for, although she was resigned to Sir Thomas Carberry's plan, the thought of parting with her son seemed well-nigh unbearable.

"Then the sooner the better, since the wind holds fair. I'll send my squire to thee this night. Now, bear up, fair lady, for by the blessing of the saints, Sir Oliver will sit at his ease in Warblington Castle ere the feast of St. Silvester."

So saying Sir Thomas took his leave, while the châtelaine busied herself with preparations for her son's journey.

That night Geoffrey kept vigil in the little church of St. Thomas à Becket, vowing to be courageous and honourable in warfare, courteous to women, and just towards those under his authority, as befitting the son of a true knight who himself aspired to the gilded spurs. But when he prayed that he might take vengeance upon the Lord of Malevereux, Father Hilarius gently reproved him.

"Vengeance, my son, hath no place within the mind of a gentleman of quality; leave that in the hands of One above, who, if He think fit, will grind the oppressor between the upper and nether millstones of His wrath. In thy dealings with thy fellow-men see to it that justice is ever tempered with mercy."

At length the eventful day dawned. At the head of the rithe lay the Grâce à Dieu, her huge square sail, emblazoned with the arms of the Lysles, being loosely furled ready to be sheeted home at the shipmaster's call.

Geoffrey and the two squires, Oswald Steyning and Richard Ratclyffe, attended by the stout old man-at-arms, Arnold Gripwell, and three trusty archers, boarded the skiff that was to take them off to the larger vessel. The hour of parting had come and gone, and with heavy heart Sir Oliver's son saw the crowd of tenantry on the shore grow less and less distinct.

But the moment the lads set foot upon the deck of the Grâce à Dieu the bustle and excitement of setting sail dispelled for the time their feeling of sadness.

Old Simeon Cross, the master-shipman, was standing by the long tiller, shouting orders at the seamen to the accompaniment of a string of expletives uttered in half a dozen different tongues.

"Yarely, now, yarely with the cable! Dick, do you attend to the vang; Tom, thou rapscallion, haul handsomely on yonder brace. Avast heaving there! Now she feels it!"

Before the steady north-westerly breeze the Grâce à Dieu bore rapidly down the Emsworth Channel; the low-lying islands of Thorney and Hayling were quickly passed, and, after a buffeting on the wind-swept bar, the staunch vessel was curtseying to the long, heavy swell of the English Channel.

Ere noon the Sussex Downs were but a low, indistinct line of blue against the northern sky, while the rounded hills of the Isle of Wight were fading away on the starboard quarter.

Then, having given the helmsman the course by means of the lodestone that did duty for a compass, Simeon went below to rest, since he must needs be on deck throughout the coming night.

"The English shore is well-nigh lost to view," remarked Oswald. "Ere morning we ought to see the coast of France, an this wind hold."

"Aye, an we are not molested by any of the sea rovers that infest the Channel," added Gripwell. "Now, young sirs, I'll wager that old Simeon will descry the French coast ere either of your young eyes can do so."

"I have heard it said that a shipmaster's vision is better by far than a landsman's," replied Richard Ratclyffe. "Yet I call to mind a device that my master, Sir Thomas, purchased from a monk of Limoges. It was but a tube of wood filled with sundry pieces of glass, yet one could distinguish a man's features a league away."

"By St. George, Master Ratclyffe," exclaimed Gripwell, "thou art trying to befool us, saving thy presence. See a man's face a league off, forsooth! Certes, next thou'lt say that it is possible for a person in England to clap a trumpet to his mouth and speak to another in France. Go to, Master Ratclyffe, Arnold Gripwell is not to be caught by such reports."

"Yet such is the truth, Gripwell," replied the squire.

"When I see it I'll believe it," retorted the man-at-arms sturdily.

Ere nightfall the wind dropped, and the Grâce à Dieu floundered sluggishly in the long rolling swell. Under the influence of this unaccustomed motion Richard Ratclyffe was the first to succumb to the woeful malady of sea-sickness. Geoffrey was soon in like case. The others, having crossed the sea beforetimes, were more hardened to its usages.

"Go below and lie down awhile," counselled Arnold Gripwell. "Ere ye wake the evil will have left you."

"I would there were some other way of crossing to France," said Geoffrey miserably.

"'Tis part of the game, and must be borne with a good heart," replied Gripwell. "This is the only way, and ever will be the only way, as far as I can see, unless men devise a means of flying thither through the air. How think ye, Master Ratclyffe," he added slyly, but the squire was beyond the sting of banter.

Lulled by the motion of the vessel, Geoffrey sank into a deep yet troubled slumber, nor did he awake till he was aroused by the man-at-arms shaking him by the shoulder.

"Up with ye, Master Geoffrey," he exclaimed. "There's foul work without, and if so be we can play our part every man jack will be wanted."

"What's amiss?" asked the lad, sitting up. All feelings of sea-sickness had left him; excitement had conquered the landsman's arch-enemy.

"On deck, and thou'lt see," replied Gripwell curtly as he hastened to rouse the other lads.

It was a strange sight that greeted Geoffrey Lysle as he gained the deck. Day had just broken, and the pale grey light revealed the presence of two ships lying a mile or so to leeward of the Grâce à Dieu.

One, a tall wall-sided ship, was striving to keep at bay a long, low-lying galley, from which showers of arrows, quarrels, stones, and spears were being hurled by the crowd of men who thronged her low fo'c'sle and towering poop.

"What are we to do, good Master Gripwell?" asked Simeon, the shipmaster, anxiously. "Yonder lies the ship Brothers of Lymington. I know her well. She is a stout merchantman, but slow; though, by St. Peter, the Grâce à Dieu could scarce gain a bow-shot length on her in an hour. The galley, if mine eyes do not deceive me, belongs to the Republic of Genoa, and scant mercy shall we receive at her hands. What are we to do?"

"Do?" exclaimed Gripwell in high disdain. "Why, Simeon, trick her. If we flee we are lost, since she can sail two yards to our one. Art willing to leave this matter in my hands?"

"Ay, good Arnold," replied the shipmaster nervously.

"Then, do you steer straight for yonder ships. Ho there, Wat! Bring forth every spear and every steel cap that is in the ship. Thomas of Gosport, do you wind your horn and blow a rousing blast. The rest of you, shipmen and archers all, don steel caps and stand fast in the waist till I give ye word."

So saying, Gripwell left the deck and went below. Meanwhile Geoffrey and his two comrades were struggling into their plates and steel casques, knowing that there was hot work afoot, yet wondering what the man-at-arms was about.

Presently Gripwell re-appeared, bearing six large shields of painted canvas, emblazoned with the arms of the principal knights of Hampshire.

"Now ye be each two knights," he shouted light-heartedly. "Sixteen years ago come Martinmas these devices hung in the great hall of Warblington when Sir Oliver was wed. Ever since that day have I kept them. Whenever I journey by water they go with me. Now, Sir Geoffrey, take thy place on the poop with Sir Oswald; Sir Richard, the waist is under thy charge. I am for the fo'c'sle."

So saying the man-at-arms proceeded to hang the shields over the ship's sides, according to the custom when knights adventured themselves on the high seas. Every man had donned a steel cap, and was grasping two and sometimes three lances, so that the rays of the rising sun glittered upon a small forest of steel.

"Turn her aside, I pray thee, Simeon, and let yonder rogues see our knights' shields," ordered Gripwell, and obediently the master-shipman thrust the helm hard over so that the Grâce à Dieu exposed the whole of her broadside to the two antagonists.

"Now, wind thy horn once more, Thomas," he continued as the ship resumed her course straight for the Genoese galley. "Heaven help us if they see through the trick," he added in an undertone.

The Lymington ship, taking heart at the prospect of a rescue, redoubled her fire of arrows and stones, but withal the galley stuck doggedly to her prey. Nearer and nearer came the Grâce à Dieu, the lead-coloured water hissing from her bluff bows as her huge sail caught the rising breeze.

"We must fight them," quoth Oswald, "unless they give way. If we are to die 'tis better to fall in the heat of the fight than to have our throats cut in cold blood, for yon rascals give quarter to none—not even a gentleman of coat-armour."

"Give the Lymington men a rousing cheer, lads," shouted Gripwell. "Then stand to your arms and fight as you have never done before. Now, together!"

From five-and-twenty lusty throats a hoarse shout ascended in a roar of defiance.

This was too much for the Genoese. Thinking they had a shipload of valiant knights and their followers to reckon with, they sheered off, the huge sail was run up, and fifty oars splashed in the water. Once on the move the galley did not stop till it was a mere dot on the skyline.

"A wax candle as thick as my arm shall burn on the altar of the Church of St. Thomas à Becket at Warblington for this great deliverance," exclaimed the master-shipman fervently. "I' faith, methought I had lost both ship and life when the rogues held on."

"Bear up, that we may have speech with the Brothers of Lymington," said Gripwell. "Seeing that she sails but a trifle slower than the Grâce à Dieu it would be fitting that both sailed in company."

As the Grâce à Dieu drew up close alongside the succoured merchant ship the bellowing voice of the shipmaster of the Brothers was heard thanking these gentle and courteous knights for their timely aid.

"And though I be little skilled in reading the devices of gentlemen of coat-armour," added a voice, "I do perceive that the shield of my Lord Bishop of Winchester is displayed. Bear my humble respects to his Grace, and say that out of gratitude, I, Paul Roche, of the honourable company of Goldsmiths of the free borough of Southampton, do hereby promise a bar of virgin gold to the service of the Dean and Chapter of the See of Winchester."

"Better by far give the gold to me, Master Roche," replied Gripwell with a hearty laugh, and to the astonishment of the passengers and crew of the Brothers the story of the ruse was unfolded.

The proposal that the two ships should complete the voyage in company was quickly accepted, and keeping a bow-shot apart the Grâce à Dieu and the Brothers headed for the French coast.

Six hours later both vessels passed between the twin towers that guarded the entrance to the port of Harfleur, the principal harbour of Normandy, and Geoffrey had set foot upon French soil.