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THE BLACK ARROW

BY

ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON





BOOK II--THE MOAT HOUSE




CHAPTER I--DICK ASKS QUESTIONS



The Moat House stood not far from the rough forest road.
Externally, it was a compact rectangle of red stone, flanked at
each corner by a round tower, pierced for archery and battlemented
at the top. Within, it enclosed a narrow court. The moat was
perhaps twelve feet wide, crossed by a single drawbridge. It was
supplied with water by a trench, leading to a forest pool and
commanded, through its whole length, from the battlements of the
two southern towers. Except that one or two tall and thick trees
had been suffered to remain within half a bowshot of the walls, the
house was in a good posture for defence.

In the court, Dick found a part of the garrison, busy with
preparations for defence, and gloomily discussing the chances of a
siege. Some were making arrows, some sharpening swords that had
long been disused; but even as they worked, they shook their heads.

Twelve of Sir Daniel's party had escaped the battle, run the
gauntlet through the wood, and come alive to the Moat House. But
out of this dozen, three had been gravely wounded: two at
Risingham in the disorder of the rout, one by John Amend-All's
marksmen as he crossed the forest. This raised the force of the
garrison, counting Hatch, Sir Daniel, and young Shelton, to twenty-
two effective men. And more might be continually expected to
arrive. The danger lay not therefore in the lack of men.

It was the terror of the Black Arrow that oppressed the spirits of
the garrison. For their open foes of the party of York, in these
most changing times, they felt but a far-away concern. "The
world," as people said in those days, "might change again" before
harm came. But for their neighbours in the wood, they trembled.
It was not Sir Daniel alone who was a mark for hatred. His men,
conscious of impunity, had carried themselves cruelly through all
the country. Harsh commands had been harshly executed; and of the
little band that now sat talking in the court, there was not one
but had been guilty of some act of oppression or barbarity. And
now, by the fortune of war, Sir Daniel had become powerless to
protect his instruments; now, by the issue of some hours of battle,
at which many of them had not been present, they had all become
punishable traitors to the State, outside the buckler of the law, a
shrunken company in a poor fortress that was hardly tenable, and
exposed upon all sides to the just resentment of their victims.
Nor had there been lacking grisly advertisements of what they might
expect.

At different periods of the evening and the night, no fewer than
seven riderless horses had come neighing in terror to the gate.
Two were from Selden's troop; five belonged to men who had ridden
with Sir Daniel to the field. Lastly, a little before dawn, a
spearman had come staggering to the moat side, pierced by three
arrows; even as they carried him in, his spirit had departed; but
by the words that he uttered in his agony, he must have been the
last survivor of a considerable company of men.

Hatch himself showed, under his sun-brown, the pallour of anxiety;
and when he had taken Dick aside and learned the fate of Selden, he
fell on a stone bench and fairly wept. The others, from where they
sat on stools or doorsteps in the sunny angle of the court, looked
at him with wonder and alarm, but none ventured to inquire the
cause of his emotion.

"Nay, Master Shelton," said Hatch, at last--"nay, but what said I?
We shall all go. Selden was a man of his hands; he was like a
brother to me. Well, he has gone second; well, we shall all
follow! For what said their knave rhyme?--'A black arrow in each
black heart.' Was it not so it went? Appleyard, Selden, Smith,
old Humphrey gone; and there lieth poor John Carter, crying, poor
sinner, for the priest."

Dick gave ear. Out of a low window, hard by where they were
talking, groans and murmurs came to his ear.

"Lieth he there?" he asked.

"Ay, in the second porter's chamber," answered Hatch. "We could
not bear him further, soul and body were so bitterly at odds. At
every step we lifted him, he thought to wend. But now, methinks,
it is the soul that suffereth. Ever for the priest he crieth, and
Sir Oliver, I wot not why, still cometh not. 'Twill be a long
shrift; but poor Appleyard and poor Selden, they had none."

Dick stooped to the window and looked in. The little cell was low
and dark, but he could make out the wounded soldier lying moaning
on his pallet.

"Carter, poor friend, how goeth it?" he asked.

"Master Shelton," returned the man, in an excited whisper, "for the
dear light of heaven, bring the priest. Alack, I am sped; I am
brought very low down; my hurt is to the death. Ye may do me no
more service; this shall be the last. Now, for my poor soul's
interest, and as a loyal gentleman, bestir you; for I have that
matter on my conscience that shall drag me deep."

He groaned, and Dick heard the grating of his teeth, whether in
pain or terror.

Just then Sir Daniel appeared upon the threshold of the hall. He
had a letter in one hand.

"Lads," he said, "we have had a shog, we have had a tumble;
wherefore, then, deny it? Rather it imputeth to get speedily again
to saddle. This old Harry the Sixt has had the undermost. Wash
we, then, our hands of him. I have a good friend that rideth next
the duke, the Lord of Wensleydale. Well, I have writ a letter to
my friend, praying his good lordship, and offering large
satisfaction for the past and reasonable surety for the future.
Doubt not but he will lend a favourable ear. A prayer without
gifts is like a song without music: I surfeit him with promises,
boys--I spare not to promise. What, then, is lacking? Nay, a
great thing--wherefore should I deceive you?--a great thing and a
difficult: a messenger to bear it. The woods--y' are not ignorant
of that--lie thick with our ill-willers. Haste is most needful;
but without sleight and caution all is naught. Which, then, of
this company will take me this letter, bear me it to my Lord of
Wensleydale, and bring me the answer back?"

One man instantly arose.

"I will, an't like you," said he. "I will even risk my carcase."

"Nay, Dicky Bowyer, not so," returned the knight. "It likes me
not. Y' are sly indeed, but not speedy. Ye were a laggard ever."

"An't be so, Sir Daniel, here am I," cried another.

"The saints forfend!" said the knight. "Y' are speedy, but not
sly. Ye would blunder me headforemost into John Amend-All's camp.
I thank you both for your good courage; but, in sooth, it may not
be."

Then Hatch offered himself, and he also was refused.

"I want you here, good Bennet; y' are my right hand, indeed,"
returned the knight; and then several coming forward in a group,
Sir Daniel at length selected one and gave him the letter.

"Now," he said, "upon your good speed and better discretion we do
all depend. Bring me a good answer back, and before three weeks, I
will have purged my forest of these vagabonds that brave us to our
faces. But mark it well, Throgmorton: the matter is not easy. Ye
must steal forth under night, and go like a fox; and how ye are to
cross Till I know not, neither by the bridge nor ferry."

"I can swim," returned Throgmorton. "I will come soundly, fear
not."

"Well, friend, get ye to the buttery," replied Sir Daniel. "Ye
shall swim first of all in nut-brown ale." And with that he turned
back into the hall.

"Sir Daniel hath a wise tongue," said Hatch, aside, to Dick. "See,
now, where many a lesser man had glossed the matter over, he
speaketh it out plainly to his company. Here is a danger, 'a
saith, and here difficulty; and jesteth in the very saying. Nay,
by Saint Barbary, he is a born captain! Not a man but he is some
deal heartened up! See how they fall again to work."

This praise of Sir Daniel put a thought in the lad's head.

"Bennet," he said, "how came my father by his end?"

"Ask me not that," replied Hatch. "I had no hand nor knowledge in
it; furthermore, I will even be silent, Master Dick. For look you,
in a man's own business there he may speak; but of hearsay matters
and of common talk, not so. Ask me Sir Oliver--ay, or Carter, if
ye will; not me."

And Hatch set off to make the rounds, leaving Dick in a muse.

"Wherefore would he not tell me?" thought the lad. "And wherefore
named he Carter? Carter--nay, then Carter had a hand in it,
perchance."

He entered the house, and passing some little way along a flagged
and vaulted passage, came to the door of the cell where the hurt
man lay groaning. At his entrance Carter started eagerly.

"Have ye brought the priest?" he cried.

"Not yet awhile," returned Dick. "Y' 'ave a word to tell me first.
How came my father, Harry Shelton, by his death?"

The man's face altered instantly.

"I know not," he replied, doggedly.

"Nay, ye know well," returned Dick. "Seek not to put me by."

"I tell you I know not," repeated Carter.

"Then," said Dick, "ye shall die unshriven. Here am I, and here
shall stay. There shall no priest come near you, rest assured.
For of what avail is penitence, an ye have no mind to right those
wrongs ye had a hand in? and without penitence, confession is but
mockery."

"Ye say what ye mean not, Master Dick," said Carter, composedly.
"It is ill threatening the dying, and becometh you (to speak truth)
little. And for as little as it commends you, it shall serve you
less. Stay, an ye please. Ye will condemn my soul--ye shall learn
nothing! There is my last word to you." And the wounded man
turned upon the other side.

Now, Dick, to say truth, had spoken hastily, and was ashamed of his
threat. But he made one more effort.

"Carter," he said, "mistake me not. I know ye were but an
instrument in the hands of others; a churl must obey his lord; I
would not bear heavily on such an one. But I begin to learn upon
many sides that this great duty lieth on my youth and ignorance, to
avenge my father. Prithee, then, good Carter, set aside the memory
of my threatenings, and in pure goodwill and honest penitence give
me a word of help."

The wounded man lay silent; nor, say what Dick pleased, could he
extract another word from him.

"Well," said Dick, "I will go call the priest to you as ye desired;
for howsoever ye be in fault to me or mine, I would not be
willingly in fault to any, least of all to one upon the last
change."

Again the old soldier heard him without speech or motion; even his
groans he had suppressed; and as Dick turned and left the room, he
was filled with admiration for that rugged fortitude.

"And yet," he thought, "of what use is courage without wit? Had
his hands been clean, he would have spoken; his silence did confess
the secret louder than words. Nay, upon all sides, proof floweth
on me. Sir Daniel, he or his men, hath done this thing."

Dick paused in the stone passage with a heavy heart. At that hour,
in the ebb of Sir Daniel's fortune, when he was beleaguered by the
archers of the Black Arrow and proscribed by the victorious
Yorkists, was Dick, also, to turn upon the man who had nourished
and taught him, who had severely punished, indeed, but yet
unwearyingly protected his youth? The necessity, if it should
prove to be one, was cruel.

"Pray Heaven he be innocent!" he said.

And then steps sounded on the flagging, and Sir Oliver came gravely
towards the lad.

"One seeketh you earnestly," said Dick.

"I am upon the way, good Richard," said the priest. "It is this
poor Carter. Alack, he is beyond cure."

"And yet his soul is sicker than his body," answered Dick.

"Have ye seen him?" asked Sir Oliver, with a manifest start.

"I do but come from him," replied Dick.

"What said he? what said he?" snapped the priest, with
extraordinary eagerness.

"He but cried for you the more piteously, Sir Oliver. It were well
done to go the faster, for his hurt is grievous," returned the lad.

"I am straight for him," was the reply. "Well, we have all our
sins. We must all come to our latter day, good Richard."

"Ay, sir; and it were well if we all came fairly," answered Dick.

The priest dropped his eyes, and with an inaudible benediction
hurried on.

"He, too!" thought Dick--"he, that taught me in piety! Nay, then,
what a world is this, if all that care for me be blood-guilty of my
father's death? Vengeance! Alas! what a sore fate is mine, if I
must be avenged upon my friends!"

The thought put Matcham in his head. He smiled at the remembrance
of his strange companion, and then wondered where he was. Ever
since they had come together to the doors of the Moat House the
younger lad had disappeared, and Dick began to weary for a word
with him.

About an hour after, mass being somewhat hastily run through by Sir
Oliver, the company gathered in the hall for dinner. It was a
long, low apartment, strewn with green rushes, and the walls hung
with arras in a design of savage men and questing bloodhounds; here
and there hung spears and bows and bucklers; a fire blazed in the
big chimney; there were arras-covered benches round the wall, and
in the midst the table, fairly spread, awaited the arrival of the
diners. Neither Sir Daniel nor his lady made their appearance.
Sir Oliver himself was absent, and here again there was no word of
Matcham. Dick began to grow alarmed, to recall his companion's
melancholy forebodings, and to wonder to himself if any foul play
had befallen him in that house.

After dinner he found Goody Hatch, who was hurrying to my Lady
Brackley.

"Goody," he said, "where is Master Matcham, I prithee? I saw ye go
in with him when we arrived."

The old woman laughed aloud.

"Ah, Master Dick," she said, "y' have a famous bright eye in your
head, to be sure!" and laughed again.

"Nay, but where is he, indeed?" persisted Dick.

"Ye will never see him more," she returned--"never. It is sure."

"An I do not," returned the lad, "I will know the reason why. He
came not hither of his full free will; such as I am, I am his best
protector, and I will see him justly used. There be too many
mysteries; I do begin to weary of the game!"

But as Dick was speaking, a heavy hand fell on his shoulder. It
was Bennet Hatch that had come unperceived behind him. With a jerk
of his thumb, the retainer dismissed his wife.

"Friend Dick," he said, as soon as they were alone, "are ye a moon-
struck natural? An ye leave not certain things in peace, ye were
better in the salt sea than here in Tunstall Moat House. Y' have
questioned me; y' have baited Carter; y' have frighted the Jack-
priest with hints. Bear ye more wisely, fool; and even now, when
Sir Daniel calleth you, show me a smooth face for the love of
wisdom. Y' are to be sharply questioned. Look to your answers."

"Hatch," returned Dick, "in all this I smell a guilty conscience."

"An ye go not the wiser, ye will soon smell blood," replied Bennet.
"I do but warn you. And here cometh one to call you."

And indeed, at that very moment, a messenger came across the court
to summon Dick into the presence of Sir Daniel.

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