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THE BLACK ARROW

BY

ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON





CHAPTER VI--TO THE DAY'S END



It was, indeed, high time for them to run. On every side the
company of the Black Arrow was making for the hill. Some, being
better runners, or having open ground to run upon, had far
outstripped the others, and were already close upon the goal; some,
following valleys, had spread out to right and left, and outflanked
the lads on either side.

Dick plunged into the nearest cover. It was a tall grove of oaks,
firm under foot and clear of underbrush, and as it lay down hill,
they made good speed. There followed next a piece of open, which
Dick avoided, holding to his left. Two minutes after, and the same
obstacle arising, the lads followed the same course. Thus it
followed that, while the lads, bending continually to the left,
drew nearer and nearer to the high road and the river which they
had crossed an hour or two before, the great bulk of their pursuers
were leaning to the other hand, and running towards Tunstall.

The lads paused to breathe. There was no sound of pursuit. Dick
put his ear to the ground, and still there was nothing; but the
wind, to be sure, still made a turmoil in the trees, and it was
hard to make certain.

"On again," said Dick; and, tired as they were, and Matcham limping
with his injured foot, they pulled themselves together, and once
more pelted down the hill.

Three minutes later, they were breasting through a low thicket of
evergreen. High overhead, the tall trees made a continuous roof of
foliage. It was a pillared grove, as high as a cathedral, and
except for the hollies among which the lads were struggling, open
and smoothly swarded.

On the other side, pushing through the last fringe of evergreen,
they blundered forth again into the open twilight of the grove.

"Stand!" cried a voice.

And there, between the huge stems, not fifty feet before them, they
beheld a stout fellow in green, sore blown with running, who
instantly drew an arrow to the head and covered them. Matcham
stopped with a cry; but Dick, without a pause, ran straight upon
the forester, drawing his dagger as he went. The other, whether he
was startled by the daring of the onslaught, or whether he was
hampered by his orders, did not shoot; he stood wavering; and
before he had time to come to himself, Dick bounded at his throat,
and sent him sprawling backward on the turf. The arrow went one
way and the bow another with a sounding twang. The disarmed
forester grappled his assailant; but the dagger shone and descended
twice. Then came a couple of groans, and then Dick rose to his
feet again, and the man lay motionless, stabbed to the heart.

"On!" said Dick; and he once more pelted forward, Matcham trailing
in the rear. To say truth, they made but poor speed of it by now,
labouring dismally as they ran, and catching for their breath like
fish. Matcham had a cruel stitch, and his head swam; and as for
Dick, his knees were like lead. But they kept up the form of
running with undiminished courage.

Presently they came to the end of the grove. It stopped abruptly;
and there, a few yards before them, was the high road from
Risingham to Shoreby, lying, at this point, between two even walls
of forest.

At the sight Dick paused; and as soon as he stopped running, he
became aware of a confused noise, which rapidly grew louder. It
was at first like the rush of a very high gust of wind, but soon it
became more definite, and resolved itself into the galloping of
horses; and then, in a flash, a whole company of men-at-arms came
driving round the corner, swept before the lads, and were gone
again upon the instant. They rode as for their lives, in complete
disorder; some of them were wounded; riderless horses galloped at
their side with bloody saddles. They were plainly fugitives from
the great battle.

The noise of their passage had scarce begun to die away towards
Shoreby, before fresh hoofs came echoing in their wake, and another
deserter clattered down the road; this time a single rider and, by
his splendid armour, a man of high degree. Close after him there
followed several baggage-waggons, fleeing at an ungainly canter,
the drivers flailing at the horses as if for life. These must have
run early in the day; but their cowardice was not to save them.
For just before they came abreast of where the lads stood
wondering, a man in hacked armour, and seemingly beside himself
with fury, overtook the waggons, and with the truncheon of a sword,
began to cut the drivers down. Some leaped from their places and
plunged into the wood; the others he sabred as they sat, cursing
them the while for cowards in a voice that was scarce human.

All this time the noise in the distance had continued to increase;
the rumble of carts, the clatter of horses, the cries of men, a
great, confused rumour, came swelling on the wind; and it was plain
that the rout of a whole army was pouring, like an inundation, down
the road.

Dick stood sombre. He had meant to follow the highway till the
turn for Holywood, and now he had to change his plan. But above
all, he had recognised the colours of Earl Risingham, and he knew
that the battle had gone finally against the rose of Lancaster.
Had Sir Daniel joined, and was he now a fugitive and ruined? or had
he deserted to the side of York, and was he forfeit to honour? It
was an ugly choice.

"Come," he said, sternly; and, turning on his heel, he began to
walk forward through the grove, with Matcham limping in his rear.

For some time they continued to thread the forest in silence. It
was now growing late; the sun was setting in the plain beyond
Kettley; the tree-tops overhead glowed golden; but the shadows had
begun to grow darker and the chill of the night to fall.

"If there were anything to eat!" cried Dick, suddenly, pausing as
he spoke.

Matcham sat down and began to weep.

"Ye can weep for your own supper, but when it was to save men's
lives, your heart was hard enough," said Dick, contemptuously. "Y'
'ave seven deaths upon your conscience, Master John; I'll ne'er
forgive you that."

"Conscience!" cried Matcham, looking fiercely up. "Mine! And ye
have the man's red blood upon your dagger! And wherefore did ye
slay him, the poor soul? He drew his arrow, but he let not fly; he
held you in his hand, and spared you! 'Tis as brave to kill a
kitten, as a man that not defends himself."

Dick was struck dumb.

"I slew him fair. I ran me in upon his bow," he cried.

"It was a coward blow," returned Matcham. "Y' are but a lout and
bully, Master Dick; ye but abuse advantages; let there come a
stronger, we will see you truckle at his boot! Ye care not for
vengeance, neither--for your father's death that goes unpaid, and
his poor ghost that clamoureth for justice. But if there come but
a poor creature in your hands that lacketh skill and strength, and
would befriend you, down she shall go!"

Dick was too furious to observe that "she."

"Marry!" he cried, "and here is news! Of any two the one will
still be stronger. The better man throweth the worse, and the
worse is well served. Ye deserve a belting, Master Matcham, for
your ill-guidance and unthankfulness to meward; and what ye deserve
ye shall have."

And Dick, who, even in his angriest temper, still preserved the
appearance of composure, began to unbuckle his belt.

"Here shall be your supper," he said, grimly. Matcham had stopped
his tears; he was as white as a sheet, but he looked Dick steadily
in the face, and never moved. Dick took a step, swinging the belt.
Then he paused, embarrassed by the large eyes and the thin, weary
face of his companion. His courage began to subside.

"Say ye were in the wrong, then," he said, lamely.

"Nay," said Matcham, "I was in the right. Come, cruel! I be lame;
I be weary; I resist not; I ne'er did thee hurt; come, beat me--
coward!"

Dick raised the belt at this last provocation, but Matcham winced
and drew himself together with so cruel an apprehension, that his
heart failed him yet again. The strap fell by his side, and he
stood irresolute, feeling like a fool.

"A plague upon thee, shrew!" he said. "An ye be so feeble of hand,
ye should keep the closer guard upon your tongue. But I'll be
hanged before I beat you!" and he put on his belt again. "Beat you
I will not," he continued; "but forgive you?--never. I knew ye
not; ye were my master's enemy; I lent you my horse; my dinner ye
have eaten; y' 'ave called me a man o' wood, a coward, and a bully.
Nay, by the mass! the measure is filled, and runneth over. 'Tis a
great thing to be weak, I trow: ye can do your worst, yet shall
none punish you; ye may steal a man's weapons in the hour of need,
yet may the man not take his own again;--y' are weak, forsooth!
Nay, then, if one cometh charging at you with a lance, and crieth
he is weak, ye must let him pierce your body through! Tut! fool
words!"

"And yet ye beat me not," returned Matcham.

"Let be," said Dick--"let be. I will instruct you. Y' 'ave been
ill-nurtured, methinks, and yet ye have the makings of some good,
and, beyond all question, saved me from the river. Nay, I had
forgotten it; I am as thankless as thyself. But, come, let us on.
An we be for Holywood this night, ay, or to-morrow early, we had
best set forward speedily."

But though Dick had talked himself back into his usual good-humour,
Matcham had forgiven him nothing. His violence, the recollection
of the forester whom he had slain--above all, the vision of the
upraised belt, were things not easily to be forgotten.

"I will thank you, for the form's sake," said Matcham. "But, in
sooth, good Master Shelton, I had liever find my way alone. Here
is a wide wood; prithee, let each choose his path; I owe you a
dinner and a lesson. Fare ye well!"

"Nay," cried Dick, "if that be your tune, so be it, and a plague be
with you!"

Each turned aside, and they began walking off severally, with no
thought of the direction, intent solely on their quarrel. But Dick
had not gone ten paces ere his name was called, and Matcham came
running after.

"Dick," he said, "it were unmannerly to part so coldly. Here is my
hand, and my heart with it. For all that wherein you have so
excellently served and helped me--not for the form, but from the
heart, I thank you. Fare ye right well."

"Well, lad," returned Dick, taking the hand which was offered him,
"good speed to you, if speed you may. But I misdoubt it shrewdly.
Y' are too disputatious." So then they separated for the second
time; and presently it was Dick who was running after Matcham.

"Here," he said, "take my cross-bow; shalt not go unarmed."

"A cross-bow!" said Matcham. "Nay, boy, I have neither the
strength to bend nor yet the skill to aim with it. It were no help
to me, good boy. But yet I thank you."

The night had now fallen, and under the trees they could no longer
read each other's face.

"I will go some little way with you," said Dick. "The night is
dark. I would fain leave you on a path, at least. My mind
misgiveth me, y' are likely to be lost."

Without any more words, he began to walk forward, and the other
once more followed him. The blackness grew thicker and thicker.
Only here and there, in open places, they saw the sky, dotted with
small stars. In the distance, the noise of the rout of the
Lancastrian army still continued to be faintly audible; but with
every step they left it farther in the rear.

At the end of half an hour of silent progress they came forth upon
a broad patch of heathy open. It glimmered in the light of the
stars, shaggy with fern and islanded with clumps of yew. And here
they paused and looked upon each other.

"Y' are weary?" Dick said.

"Nay, I am so weary," answered Matcham, "that methinks I could lie
down and die."

"I hear the chiding of a river," returned Dick. "Let us go so far
forth, for I am sore athirst."

The ground sloped down gently; and, sure enough, in the bottom,
they found a little murmuring river, running among willows. Here
they threw themselves down together by the brink; and putting their
mouths to the level of a starry pool, they drank their fill.

"Dick," said Matcham, "it may not be. I can no more."

"I saw a pit as we came down," said Dick. "Let us lie down therein
and sleep."

"Nay, but with all my heart!" cried Matcham.

The pit was sandy and dry; a shock of brambles hung upon one hedge,
and made a partial shelter; and there the two lads lay down,
keeping close together for the sake of warmth, their quarrel all
forgotten. And soon sleep fell upon them like a cloud, and under
the dew and stars they rested peacefully.

  Ecrire un nouveau commentaire Posté le 09-10-2011 à 14h51

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