lighted cresset within the chamber. In an instant, all was
darkness. There was a rapid shuffling sound as of the scurrying of rats
and then the quiet of the tomb settled upon the great hall.
"Are you safe and unhurt, my Lady Bertrade?" asked a grave English voice
out of the darkness.
"Quite, Sir Knight," she replied, "and you?"
"Not a scratch, but where is our good friend the Baron?"
"He lay here upon the floor but a moment since, and carried a thin long
dagger in his hand. Have a care, Sir Knight, he may even now be upon
The knight did not answer, but she heard him moving boldly about the
room. Soon he had found another lamp and made a light. As its feeble
rays slowly penetrated the black gloom, the girl saw the bodies of
the three men-at-arms, the overturned table and lamp, and the visored
knight; but Peter of Colfax was gone.
The knight perceived his absence at the same time, but he only laughed a
low, grim laugh.
"He will not go far, My Lady Bertrade," he said.
"How know you my name?" she asked. "Who may you be? I do not recognize
your armor, and your breastplate bears no arms."
He did not answer at once and her heart rose in her breast as it filled
with the hope that her brave rescuer might be the same Roger de Conde
who had saved her from the hirelings of Peter of Colfax but a few short
weeks since. Surely it was the same straight and mighty figure, and
there was the marvelous swordplay as well. It must be he, and yet Roger
de Conde had spoken no English while this man spoke it well, though, it
was true, with a slight French accent.
"My Lady Bertrade, I be Norman of Torn," said the visored knight with
The girl's heart sank, and a feeling of cold fear crept through her. For
years that name had been the symbol of fierce cruelty, and mad hatred
against her kind. Little children were frightened into obedience by the
vaguest hint that the Devil of Torn would get them, and grown men had
come to whisper the name with grim, set lips.
"Norman of Torn!" she whispered. "May God have mercy on my soul!"
Beneath the visored helm, a wave of pain and sorrow surged across
the countenance of the outlaw, and a little shudder, as of a chill of
hopelessness, shook his giant frame.
"You need not fear, My Lady," he said sadly. "You shall be in your
father's castle of Leicester ere the
By her side walked a handsome boy of about three, clad, like his companion, in gay colors.Page 42
For all the din of clashing blades and rattling armor, neither of the contestants had inflicted much damage, for the knight could neither force nor insinuate his point beyond the perfect guard of his unarmored foe, who, for his part, found difficulty in penetrating the other's armor.Page 80
Norm--Roger de Conde asks permission of no man to do what he would do.Page 87
His life had been a hard and lonely one.Page 91
And who be the knight?" "Look for yourself, My Lord Earl," replied the girl removing the helm, which she had been unlacing from the fallen man.Page 92
It has been some years since I have seen you and I did not know the old fox Richard de Tany kept such a package as this hid in his grimy old castle.Page 96
The sound of pursuit was now quite close, in fact the reflection from flickering torches could be seen in nearby chambers.Page 98
I have so few friends," he added sadly, "that I cannot afford to lose such as you.Page 99
"You know not what you say.Page 101
"How many are you?" asked the outlaw.Page 103
"We shall pay a little visit upon our amorous friend, My Lord, the Earl of Buckingham.Page 104
"Look! Behind you.Page 106
Then one of the ladies turned to a knight at her side with a word of command and an imperious gesture toward the fast disappearing company.Page 110
was, and that the memory of Bertrade de Montfort's lips would always be more to him than all the allurements possessed by the balance of the women of the world, no matter how charming, or how beautiful.Page 117
It was a crestfallen gentleman who rode forth from the castle of Torn a half hour later and spurred rapidly--in his head a more civil tongue.Page 120
A wave of melancholy passed over him, for the deserted aspect of the little flower-hedged cote seemed dismally prophetic of a near future without the beaming, jovial face of his friend and adviser.Page 127
" "Who be ye, that thus rudely breaks in upon the peace of my castle, and makes bold to insult my guests?" demanded Roger de Leybourn.Page 143
Keep thy cattle back, out of my way.Page 145
They stood looking into each other's eyes with a strange fixity, for what seemed an eternity, before any dared to move; and then, as though they feared what they should see, they bent over the form of the Outlaw of Torn for the first time.Page 150
reasons of clarity: "chid" to "chide" "sword play" to "swordplay" "subtile" to "subtle".