The Outlaw of Torn

By Edgar Rice Burroughs

Page 102

gentleman of France.

There was something familiar in the great bulk of Red Shandy; where had
she seen that mighty frame before? And now she looked closely at the
figure of Roger de Conde. Yes, somewhere else had she seen these two men
together; but where and when?

And then the strangeness of another incident came to her mind. Roger de
Conde spoke no English, and yet she had plainly heard English words upon
this man's lips as he addressed the red giant.

Norman of Torn had recovered his helmet from one of his men who had
picked it up at the crossroads, and now he rode in silence with lowered
visor, as was his custom.

There was something sinister now in his appearance, and as the moonlight
touched the hard, cruel faces of the grim and silent men who rode behind
him, a little shudder crept over the frame of Joan de Tany.

Shortly before daylight they reached the castle of Richard de Tany, and
a great shout went up from the watch as Norman of Torn cried:

"Open! Open for My Lady Joan."

Together they rode into the courtyard, where all was bustle and
excitement. A dozen voices asked a dozen questions only to cry out still
others without waiting for replies.

Richard de Tany with his family and Mary de Stutevill were still fully
clothed, having not lain down during the whole night. They fairly fell
upon Joan and Roger de Conde in their joyous welcome and relief.

"Come, come," said the Baron, "let us go within. You must be fair
famished for good food and drink."

"I will ride, My Lord," replied Norman of Torn. "I have a little matter
of business with my friend, the Earl of Buckingham. Business which I
fear will not wait."

Joan de Tany looked on in silence. Nor did she urge him to remain, as he
raised her hand to his lips in farewell. So Norman of Torn rode out of
the courtyard; and as his men fell in behind him under the first rays of
the drawing day, the daughter of De Tany watched them through the gate,
and a great light broke upon her, for what she saw was the same as she
had seen a few days since when she had turned in her saddle to watch
the retreating forms of the cut-throats of Torn as they rode on after
halting her father's party.


Some hours later, fifty men followed Norman of Torn on foot through the
ravine below the castle where John de Fulm, Earl of Buckingham, had his
headquarters; while nearly a

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