The Outlaw of Torn............................................................................................................................................1

Edgar Rice Burroughs ..............................................................................................................................1

HERE is a story that has lain dormant for seven hun dred years. At first it was suppressed by one of the

Plantagenet kings of England. Later it was forgotten. I happened to dig it up by accident. The accident being

the relationship of my wife's cousin to a certain Father Superior in a very ancient monastery in Europe.

He let me pry about among a quantity of mildewed and musty manuscripts and I came across this. It is very

interestingpartially since it is a bit of hitherto unrecorded history, but principally from the fact that it

records the story of a most remarkable revenge and the adventurous life of its innocent victimRichard, the

In the retelling of it I have left out most of the history. What interested me was the unique character about

whom the tale revolvesthe visored horseman who but let us wait until we get to him.

It all happened in the thirteenth century, and while it was happening it shook England from north to south and

from east to west; and reached across the channel and shook France. It started, directly, in the London palace

of Henry III, and was the result of a quarrel between the King and his powerful brotherinlaw, Si mon de

Never mind the quarrel, that's history, and you can read all about it at your leisure. But on this June day in the

year of our Lord 1243, Henry so forgot himself as to very unjustly accuse De Montfort of treason in the

De Montfort paled. He was a tall, handsome man, and when he drew himself to his full height and turned

those gray eyes on the victim of his wrath, as he did that day, he was very imposing. A power in England,

second only to the King himself, and with the heart of a lion in him, he answered the King as no other man in

"My Lord King," he cried, "that you be my Lord King alone prevents Simon de Montfort from demand ing

satisfaction for such a gross insult. That you take advantage of your kingship to say what you would never

dare say were you not king, brands me not a traitor, though it does brand you a coward."

Tense silence fell upon the little company of lords and courtiers as these awful words fell from the lips of a

subject, addressed to his king. They were horrified, for De Montfort's bold challenge was to them but little

Henry, flushing in mortification and anger, rose to advance upon De Montfort, but suddenly recollecting the

power which he represented, he thought better of whatever action he contemplated, and with a haughty sneer

"Come, my gentlemen," he said, "methought that we were to have a turn with the foils this morning. Already

it waxeth late. Come, De Fulm! Come, Leybourn!" and the King left the apartment followed by his

gentlemen, all of whom had drawn away from the Earl of Leicester when it became apparent that the royal

displeasure was strong against him. As the arras fell behind the depart ing King, De Montfort shrugged his

When the King, with his gentlemen, entered the armory he was still smarting from the humiliation of De

Montfort's reproaches, and as he laid aside his sur coat and plumed hat to take the foils with De Fulm his

eyes alighted on the master of fence, Sir Jules de Vac, who was advancing with the King's foil and helmet.

Henry felt in no mood for fencing with De Fulm, who, like the other sycophants that surrounded him, always

De Vac he knew to be too jealous of his fame as a swordsman to permit himself to be overcome by aught but

The armory was a great room on the main floor of the palace, off the guard room. It was built in a small wing

of the building so that it had light from three sides. In charge of it was the lean, grizzled, leather skinned Sir

Jules de Vac, and it was he whom Henry commanded to face him in mimic combat with the foils, for the

So he let De Vac assume to his mind's eye the person of the hated De Montfort, and it followed that De Vac

was nearly surprised into an early and mortifying defeat by the King's sudden and clever attack.

Henry III had always been accounted a good swords man, but that day he quite outdid himself, and in his

imagination was about to run the pseudo De Montfort through the heart, to the wild acclaim of his audience.

For this fell purpose he had backed the astounded De Vac twice around the hall when, with a clever feint, and

backward step, the master of fence drew the King into the position he wanted him, and with the sudden ness

of lightning, a little twist of his foil sent Henry's weapon clanging across the floor of the armory.

For an instant the King stood as tense and white as though the hand of death had reached out and touched his

heart with its icy fingers. The episode meant more to him than being bested in play by the best swordsman in

Englandfor that surely was no disgraceto Henry it seemed prophetic of the outcome of a future struggle

when he should stand face to face with the real De Montfort; and then, seeing in De Vac only the creature of

his imagination with which he had vested the like ness of his powerful brotherinlaw, Henry did what he

should like to have done to the real Leicester. Drawing off his gauntlet he advanced close to De Vac.

"Dog!" he hissed, and struck the master of fence a stinging blow across the face, and spat upon him. Then he

De Vac had grown old in the service of the kings of England, but he hated all things English and all Eng

lishmen. The dead King John, though hated by all others, he had loved, but with the dead King's bones De

Vac's loyalty to the house he served had been buried in the Cathedral of Worcester.

During the years he had served as master of fence at the English Court the sons of royalty had learned to

thrust and parry and cut as only De Vac could teach the art; and he had been as conscientious in the discharge

of his duties as he had been in his unswerving hatred and contempt for his pupils.

And now the English King had put upon him such an insult as might only be wiped out by blood.

As the blow fell the wiry Frenchman clicked his heels together, and throwing down his foil, he stood erect

and rigid as a marble statue before his master. White and livid was his tense drawn face, but he spoke no

He might have struck the King, but then there would have been left to him no alternative save death by his

own hand; for a king may not fight with a lesser mor tal, and he who strikes a king may not livethe king's

Had a French king struck him De Vac would have struck back, and gloried in the fate which permitted him to

die for the honor of France; but an English King pooh! a dog; and who would die for a dog? No, De Vac

would find other means of satisfying his wounded pride, he would revel in revenge against this man for

whom he felt no loyalty. If possible, he would harm the whole of England if he could, but he would bide his

time. He could afford to wait for his opportunity if by waiting he could encompass a more terrible re venge.

De Vac had been born in Paris, the son of a French officer reputed the best swordsman in France. The son

had followed closely in the footsteps of his father until on the latter's death, he could easily claim the title of

his sire. How he had left France and entered the ser vice of John of England is not of this story. All the

bear ing that the life of Jules de Vac has upon the history of England hinges upon but two of his many

attributes his wonderful swordsmanship and his fearful hatred for his adopted country.

SOUTH of the armory of Westminster Palace lay the gardens, and here, on the third day following the King's

affront to De Vac, might have been a seen a black haired woman gowned in a violet cyclas, richly em

broidered with gold about the yoke and at the bottom of the loosepointed sleeves, which reached almost to

the similar bordering on the lower hem of the garment. A richly wrought leathern girdle, studded with

precious stones, and held in place by a huge carved buckle of gold, clasped the garment about her waist so

that the upper portion fell outward over the girdle after the manner of a blouse. In the girdle was a long

dagger of beautiful workmanship. Dainty sandals encased her feet, while a wimple of violet silk bordered in

By her side walked a handsome boy of about three, clad, like his companion, in gay colors. His tiny surcoat

of scarlet velvet was rich with embroidery, while be neath was a closefitting tunic of white silk. His

doublet was of scarlet, while his long hose of white were cross gartered with scarlet from his tiny sandals to

his knees. On the back of his brown curls sat a flatbrimmed, roundcrowned hat in which a single plume of

The child's features were well molded, and his frank, bright eyes gave an expression of boyish generosity to a

face which otherwise would have been too arrogant and haughty for such a mere baby. As he talked with his

companion, little flashes of peremptory authority and dignity, which sat strangely upon one so tiny, caused

the young woman at times to turn her head from him that he might not see the smiles which she could scarce

Presently the boy took a ball from his tunic, and, pointing at a little bush near them, said, "Stand you there,

The young woman did as she was bid, and when she had taken her place and turned to face him the boy threw

the ball to her. Thus they played beneath the windows of the armory, the boy running blithely after the ball

when he missed it, and laughing and shouting in happy glee when he made a particularly good catch.

In one of the windows of the armory overlooking the garden stood a grim, gray, old man, leaning upon his

folded arms, his brows drawn together in a malignant scowl, the corners of his mouth set in a stern, cold line.

He looked upon the garden and the playing child, and upon the lovely young woman beneath him, but with

eyes which did not see, for De Vac was working out a great problem, the greatest of all his life.

For three days the old man had brooded over his grievance, seeking for some means to be revenged upon the

King for the insult which Henry had put upon him. Many schemes had presented themselves to his shrewd

and cunning mind, but so far all had been rejected as unworthy of the terrible satisfaction which his wounded

His fancies had for the most part revolved about the unsettled political conditions of Henry's reign, for from

these he felt he might wrest that opportunity which could be turned to his own personal uses and to the harm,

For years an inmate of the palace, and often a listen er in the armory when the King played at sword with

his friends and favorites, De Vac had heard much which passed between Henry III and his intimates that

With all England he knew the utter contempt in which Henry held the terms of the Magna Charta which he so

often violated along with his kingly oath to maintain it. But what all England did not know De Vac had

gleaned from scraps of conversation dropped in the armory: that Henry was even now negotiating with the

leaders of foreign mercenaries, and with Louis IX of France, for a sufficient force of knights and men

atarms to wage a relentless war upon his own barons that he might effectively put a stop to all future inter

ference by them with the royal prerogative of the Plan tagenets to misrule England.

If he could but learn the details of this plan, thought De Vac: the point of landing of the foreign troops; their

numbers; the first point of attack. Ah, would it not be sweet revenge indeed to balk the King in this venture

A word to De Clare, or De Montfort would bring the barons and their retainers forty thousand strong to

And he would let the King know to whom, and for what cause, he was beholden for his defeat and dis

comfiture. Possibly the barons would depose Henry, and place a new king upon England's throne, and then

De Vac would mock the Plantagenet to his face. Sweet, kind, delectable vengeance, indeed! and the old man

licked his thin lips as though to taste the last sweet vestige of some dainty morsel.

And then Chance carried a little leather ball beneath the window where the old man stood; and as the child

ran, laughing, to recover it, De Vac's eyes fell upon him, and his former plan for revenge melted as the fog

before the noonday sun; and in its stead there opened to him the whole hideous plot of fearsome vengeance as

clearly as it were writ upon the leaves of a great book that had been thrown wide before him. And, in so far as

he could direct, he varied not one jot from the details of that vividly conceived masterpiece of hellishness

The little boy who so innocently played in the garden of his royal father was Prince Richard, the threeyear

old son of Henry III of England. No published history mentions this little lost prince; only the secret archives

of the kings of England tell the story of his strange and adventurous life. His name has been blotted from the

records of men; and the revenge of De Vac has passed from the eyes of the world; though in his time it was a

FOR nearly a month the old man haunted the palace, and watched in the gardens for the little Prince until he

He saw that when the Lady Maud accompanied him they were wont to repair to the farthermost extremities of

the palace grounds where, by a little postern gate, she admitted a certain officer of the Guards to whom the

There, in a secluded bower, the two lovers whispered their hopes and plans, unmindful of the royal charge

Toward the middle of July De Vac had his plans well laid. He had managed to coax old Brus, the gar dener,

into letting him have the key to the little postern gate on the plea that he wished to indulge in a mid night

escapade, hinting broadly of a fair lady who was to be the partner of his adventure, and, what was more to the

point with Brus, at the same time slipping a couple of golden zecchins into the gardener's palm.

Brus, like the other palace servants, considered De Vac a loyal retainer of the house of Plantagenet. What

ever else of mischief De Vac might be up to, Brus was quite sure that in so far as the King was concerned, the

key to the postern gate was as safe in De Vac's hands as though Henry himself had it.

The old fellow wondered a little that the morose old master of fence should, at his time in life, indulge in

frivolous escapades more befitting the younger sprigs of gentility, but, then, what concern was it of his? Did

he not have enough to think about to keep the gardens so that his royal master and mistress might find pleas

ure in the shaded walks, the wellkept sward, and the gorgeous beds of foliage plants and blooming flowers

Further, two gold zecchins were not often come by so easily as this; and if the dear Lord Jesus saw fit, in his

infinite wisdom, to take this means of rewarding his poor servant it ill became such a worm as he to ignore

the divine favor. So Brus took the gold zecchins and De Vac the key, and the little prince played happily

among the flowers of his royal father's garden, and all were satisfied; which was as it should have been.

That night De Vac took the key to a locksmith on the far side of London; one who could not possibly know

him or recognize the key as belonging to the palace. Here he had a duplicate made, waiting impatiently while

From this little shop De Vac threaded his way through the dirty lanes and alleys of ancient London, lighted at

far intervals by an occasional smoky lantern, until he came to a squalid tenement but a short distance from the

A narrow alley ran past the building, ending abruptly at the bank of the Thames in a moldering wooden dock,

beneath which the inky waters of the river rose and fell, lapping the decaying piles and surging far beneath

the dock to the remote fastnesses inhabited by the great fierce dock rats and their fiercer human antitypes.

Several times De Vac paced the length of this black alley in search of the little doorway of the building he

sought. At length he came upon it, and, after repeated pounding with the pommel of his sword, it was opened

"What would ye of a decent woman at such an un godly hour?" she grumbled. "Ah, 'tis ye, my lord?" she

added, hastily, as the flickering rays of the candle she bore lighted up De Vac's face. "Welcome, my Lord,

"Silence, old hag," cried De Vac. "Is it not enough that you leech me of good marks of such a quantity that

you may ever after wear mantles of villosa and feast on simnel bread and malmsey, that you must needs

"Hast thou the clothes ready bundled and the key, also, to this gate to perdition? And the room: didst set to

rights the furnishings I had delivered here, and sweep the centuryold accumulation of filth and cob webs

from the floor and rafters? Why, the very air reeked of the dead Romans who builded London twelve hundred

years ago. Methinks, too, from the stink, they must have been Roman swineherd who habited this sty with

their herds, an' I venture that thou, old sow, hast never touched broom to the place for fear of disturb ing the

"Cease thy babbling, Lord Satan," cried the woman. "I would rather hear thy money talk than thou, for

though it come accursed and tainted from thy rogue hand, yet it speaks with the same sweet and command

"The bundle is ready," she continued, closing the door after De Vac, who had now entered, "and here be the

key; but first let us have a payment. I know not what thy foul work may be, but foul it is I know from the

secrecy which you have demanded, an' I dare say there will be some who would pay well to learn the

whereabouts of the old woman and the child, thy sister and her son you tell me they be, who you are so

anxious to hide away in old Til's garret. So it be well for you, my Lord, to pay old Til well and add a few

guilders for the peace of her tongue if you would that your prisoner find peace in old Til's house."

"Fetch me the bundle, hag," replied De Vac, "and you shall have gold against a final settlement; more even

But the old woman's threats had already caused De Vac a feeling of uneasiness, which would have been

reflected to an exaggerated degree in the old woman had she known the determination her words had caused

His venture was far too serious, and the results of exposure too fraught with danger, to permit of his tak ing

any chances with a disloyal fellowconspirator. True, he had not even hinted at the enormity of the plot in

which he was involving the old woman, but, as she had said, his stern commands for secrecy had told enough

to arouse her suspicions, and with them her curiosity and cupidity. So it was that old Til might well have

quailed in her tattered sandals had she but even vaguely guessed the thoughts which passed in De Vac's mind;

but the extra gold pieces he dropped into her withered palm as she delivered the bundle to him, together with

the promise of more, quite effectually won her loyalty and her silence for the time being.

Slipping the key into the pocket of his tunic and covering the bundle with his long surcoat, De Vac stepped

Beneath the planks he found a skiff which he had moored there earlier in the evening, and underneath one of

the thwarts he hid the bundle. Then, casting off, he rowed slowly up the Thames until, below the palace

walls, he moored near to the little postern gate which let into the lower end of the garden.

Hiding the skiff as best he could in some tangled bushes which grew to the water's edge, set there by order of

the King to add to the beauty of the aspect from the river side, De Vac crept warily to the postern and,

The next day he returned the original key to Brus, telling the old man that he had not used it after all, since

mature reflection had convinced him of the folly of his contemplated adventure, especially in one whose

youth was past, and in whose joints the night damp of the Thames might find lodgement for rheumatism.

"Ha, Sir Jules," laughed the old gardener, "Virtue and Vice be twin sisters who come running to do the

bidding of the same father, Desire. Were there no desire there would be no virtue, and because one man

desires what another does not, who shall say whether the child of his desire be vice or virtue? Or on the other

hand if my friend desires his own wife and if that be virtue, then if I also desire his wife, is not that likewise

virtue, since we desire the same thing? But if to obtain our desire it be necessary to expose our joints to the

"Right you sound, old mole," said De Vac, smiling, "would that I might learn to reason by your wondrous

"The best sword arm in all Christendom needs no other logic than the sword, I should think," said Brus,

That afternoon De Vac stood in a window of the armory looking out upon the beautiful garden which spread

before him to the river wall two hundred yards away. In the foreground were boxbordered walks, smooth,

sleek lawns, and formal beds of gorgeous flow ering plants, while here and there marble statues of wood

nymph and satyr gleamed, sparkling in the bril liant sunlight, or, half shaded by an overhanging bush, took

on a semblance of life from the riotous play of light and shadow as the leaves above them moved to and fro in

the faint breeze. Farther in the distance the river wall was hidden by more closely massed bushes, and the

formal, geometric precision of the nearer view was relieved by a background of vinecolored bowers, and a

Through this seeming jungle ran tortuous paths, and the carved stone benches of the open garden gave place

Toward this enchanting spot slowly were walking the Lady Maud and her little charge, Prince Richard; all

A great peacock strutted proudly across the walk be fore them, and, as Richard ran, childlike, after it, Lady

Maud hastened on to the little postern gate which she quickly unlocked admitting her lover who had been

waiting without. Relocking the gate the two strolled arm in arm to the little bower which was their trysting

As the lovers talked, all selfengrossed, the little Prince played happily about among the trees and flow ers,

and none saw the stern, determined face which peered through the foliage at a little distance from the playing

Richard was devoting his royal energies to chasing an elusive butterfly which fate led nearer and nearer to the

cold, hard watcher in the bushes. Closer and closer came the little Prince, and in another moment he had burst

"Your Highness," said De Vac, bowing to the little fellow, "let old De Vac help you catch the pretty insect."

Richard, having often seen De Vac, did not fear him, and so together they started in pursuit of the butter fly

which by now had passed out of sight. De Vac turned their steps toward the little postern gate, but when he

"Come, My Lord Prince," urged De Vac, "methinks the butterfly did but alight without the wall, we can have

"Go thyself and fetch it," replied the Prince; "the King, my father, has forbid me stepping without the palace

But the child hung back and would not go with him so that De Vac was forced to grasp him roughly by the

"Unhand me, sirrah," screamed the boy. "How dare you lay hands on a prince of England?"

De Vac clapped his hand over the child's mouth to still his cries, but it was too late, the Lady Maud and her

lover had heard, and in an instant they were rush ing toward the postern gate, the officer drawing his sword

When they reached the wall De Vac and the Prince were upon the outside, and the Frenchman had closed and

was endeavoring to lock the gate. But handicapped by the struggling boy he had not time to turn the key

before the officer threw himself against the panels and burst out before the master of fence, closely followed

De Vac dropped the key and, still grasping the now thoroughly affrightened Prince with his left hand, drew

There were no words, there was no need of words; De Vac's intentions were too plain to necessitate any

parley, so the two fell upon each other with grim fury; the brave officer facing the best swordsman that

In a moment De Vac had disarmed him, but, con trary to the laws of chivalry, he did not lower his point

until it had first plunged through the heart of his brave antagonist. Then with a bound he leaped between

Lady Maud and the gate, so that she could not retreat into the garden and give the alarm.

Still grasping the trembling child in his iron grip he stood facing the lady in waiting, his back against the

"No, My Lady," he answered, "but I had not thought to do the work which now lies before me. Why didst

thou not keep a still tongue in thy head and let his patron saint look after the welfare of this princeling? Your

rashness has brought you to a pretty pass, for it must be either you or I, My Lady, and it cannot be I. Say thy

Henry III, King of England, sat in his council cham ber surrounded by the great lords and nobles who com

posed his suit. He awaited Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester, whom he had summoned that he might heap

still further indignities upon him with the intention of degrading and humiliating him that he might leave

England forever. The King feared this mighty kinsman who so boldly advised him against the weak follies

What the outcome of this audience would have been none may say, for Leicester had but just entered and

saluted his sovereign when there came an interruption which drowned the petty wrangles of king and courtier

There was a commotion at one side of the room, the arras parted, and Eleanor, Queen of England, staggered

"Oh, My Lord! My Lord!' she cried, "Richard our son, has been assassinated and thrown into the Thames."

In an instant all was confusion and turmoil, and it was with the greatest difficulty that the King finally

It seemed that when the Lady Maud had not returned to the palace with Prince Richard at the proper time, the

Queen had been notified and an immediate search had been instituteda search which did not end for over

twenty years; but the first fruits of it turned the hearts of the court to stone, for there beside the open postern

gate lay the dead bodies of Lady Maud and a certain officer of the Guards, but nowhere was there a sign or

trace of Prince Richard, second son of Henry III of England, and at that time the youngest prince of the realm.

It was two days before the absence of De Vac was noted, and then it was that one of the lords in waiting to

the King reminded his majesty of the episode of the fencing bout, and a motive for the abduction of the

An edict was issued requiring the examination of every child in England, for on the left breast of the little

Prince was a birthmark which closely resembled a lily, and when after a year no child was found bearing such

a mark and no trace of De Vac uncovered, the search was carried into France, nor was it ever wholly relin

The first theory, of assassination, was quickly aban doned when it was subjected to the light of reason, for it

was evident that an assassin could have dispatched the little Prince at the same time that he killed the Lady

The most eager factor in the search for Prince Richard was Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester, whose

affec tion for his royal nephew had always been so marked as to have been commented upon by the

Thus for a time the rupture between De Montfort and his king was healed, and although the great noble man

was divested of his authority in Gascony he suf fered little further oppression at the hands of his royal

AS De Vac drew his sword from the heart of the Lady Maud he winced, for, merciless though he was, he had

shrunk from this cruel task. Too far he had gone, how ever, to back down now, and, had he left the Lady

Maud alive, the whole of the palace guard and all the city of London would have been on his heels in ten

The little Prince was now so terrified that he could but tremble and whimper in his fright. So fearful was he

of the terrible De Vac that a threat of death easily stilled his tongue, and so the grim, old man led him to the

De Vac did not dare remain in this retreat until dark, as he had first intended. Instead he drew a dingy, ragged

dress from the bundle beneath the thwart and in this disguised himself as an old woman, drawing a cotton

wimple low over his head and forehead to hide his short hair. Concealing the child beneath the other articles

of clothing he pushed off from the bank, and, rowing close to the shore, hastened down the Thames toward

the old dock where, the previous night, he had concealed his skiff. He reached his destination unno ticed,

and, running in beneath the dock, worked the boat far into the dark recess of the cavelike retreat.

Here he determined to hide until darkness had fallen, for he knew that the search would be on for the little

lost Prince at any moment, and that none might traverse the streets of London without being subject to the

Taking advantage of the forced wait De Vac un dressed the Prince and clothed him in other garments, which

had been wrapped in the bundle hidden beneath the thwart; a little red cotton tunic with hose to match, a

The discarded clothing of the Prince he wrapped about a huge stone torn from the disintegrating masonry of

The Prince had by now regained some of his for mer assurance, and, finding that De Vac seemed not to

intend harming him, the little fellow commenced ques tioning his grim companion, his childish wonder at

"What do we here, Sir Jules?" he asked. "Take me back to the King's, my father's palace. I like not this dark

"Silence, boy!" commanded the old man. "Sir Jules be dead, nor are you a king's son. Remember these two

things well, nor ever again let me hear you speak the name Sir Jules, or call yourself a prince."

The boy went silent, again cowed by the fierce tone of his captor. Presently he began to whimper, for he was

tired and hungry and frightenedjust a poor little baby, helpless and hopeless in the hands of this cruel

enemy all his royalty as nothing, all gone with the silken finery which lay in the thick mud at the bottom of

the Thamesand presently he dropped into a fitful sleep in the bottom of the skiff.

When darkness had settled, De Vac pushed the skiff outward to the side of the dock and gathering the sleep

ing child in his arms stood listening, preparatory to mounting to the alley which led to old Til's place.

As he stood thus a faint sound of clanking armor came to his attentive ears; louder and louder it grew until

De Vac resumed his place in the skiff, and again drew it far beneath the dock. Scarcely had he done so ere a

party of armored knights and menatarms clanked out upon the planks above him from the mouth of the

dark alley. Here they stopped as though for consulta tion and plainly could the listener below hear every

"De Montfort," said one, "what thinkest thou of it? Can it be that the Queen is right and that Richard lies dead

"No, De Clare," replied a deep voice, which De Vac recognized as that of the Earl of Leicester. "The hand

that could steal the Prince from out of the very gardens of his sire without the knowledge of Lady Maud or

her companion, which must evidently have been the case, could more easily and safely have dispatched him

with in the gardens had that been the object of this strange attack. I think, My Lord, that presently we shall

hear from some bold adventurer who holds the little Prince for ransom. God give that such may be the case,

for of all the winsome and affectionate little fellows I have ever seen, not even excepting mine own dear son,

the little Richard was the most to be beloved. Would that I might get my hands upon the foul devil who has

Beneath the planks, not four feet from where Leices ter stood, lay the object of his search. The clanking

armor, the heavy spurred feet, and the voices above him had awakened the little Prince and with a startled cry

he sat upright in the bottom of the skiff. Instantly De Vac's iron band clapped over the tiny mouth, but not

In tense silence they listened for a repetition of the sound and then De Montfort cried out:

"What ho, below there! Who is it beneath the dock? Answer, in the name of the King!"

Richard, recognizing the voice of his favorite uncle, struggled to free himself, but De Vac's ruthless hand

crushed out the weak efforts of the babe, and all was quiet as the tomb, while those above stood listening for

"Dock rats," said De Clare, and then as though the devil guided them to protect his own, two huge rats

scurried upward from between the loose boards, and ran squealing up the dark alley.

"Right you are," said De Montfort, "but I could have sworn 'twas a child's feeble wail had I not seen the two

filthy rodents with mine own eyes. Come, let us to the next vile alley. We have met with no success here,

though that old hag who called herself Til seemed overanxious to bargain for the future information she

As they moved off, their voices grew fainter in the ears of the listeners beneath the dock and soon were lost in

"A close shave," thought De Vac, as he again took up the child and prepared to gain the dock. No further

noises occurring to frighten him he soon reached the door to Til's house and inserting the key crept noise

There were no stairs from the upper floor to the garret above, this ascent being made by means of a wooden

ladder which De Vac pulled up after him, closing and securing the aperture, through which he climbed with

The apartment which they now entered extended across the entire east end of the building, and had windows

upon three sides. These were heavily cur tained. The apartment was lighted by a small cresset hanging from

The walls were unplastered and the rafters un ceiled; the whole bearing a most barnlike and unhos pitable

In one corner was a huge bed, and across the room a smaller cot; a cupboard, a table, and two benches com

pleted the furnishings. These articles De Vac had pur chased for the room against the time when he should

On the table were a loaf of black bread, an earthen ware jar containing honey, a pitcher of milk and two

drinking horns. To these De Vac immediately gave his attention, commanding the child to partake of what he

Hunger for the moment overcame the little Prince's fears, and he set to with avidity upon the strange, rough

fare, made doubly coarse by the rude utensils and the bare surroundings, so unlike the royal magnificence of

While the child ate, De Vac hastened to the lower floor of the building in search of Til whom he now

thoroughly mistrusted and feared. The words of De Montfort, which he had overheard at the dock, con

vinced him that here was one more obstacle to the fulfillment of his revenge which must be removed as had

the Lady Maud; but in this instance there was neither youth nor beauty to plead the cause of the intended

When he found the old hag she was already dressed to go upon the street, in fact he intercepted her at the very

door of the building. Still clad as he was in the mantle and wimple of an old woman, Til did not, at first,

recognize him, and when he spoke she burst into a nervous, cackling laugh, as one caught in the perpe

tration of some questionable act, nor did her manner escape the shrewd notice of the wily master of fence.

"To visit Mag Tunk at the alley's end, by the river, My Lord," she replied, with more respect than she had

"Then I will accompany you part way, my friend, and, perchance, you can give me a hand with some

And so the two walked together through the dark alley to the end of the rickety, dismantled dock; the one

thinking of the vast reward the King would lavish upon her for the information she felt sure she alone could

give; the other feeling beneath his mantle for the hilt of a long dagger which nestled there.

As they reached the water's edge De Vac was walking with his right shoulder behind his companion's left, in

his hand was gripped the keen blade and as the woman halted on the dock the point that hovered just below

her left shoulderblade plunged, soundless, into her heart at the same instant that De Vac's left hand swung

There was no sound, barely a struggle of the con vulsively stiffening old muscles, and then, with a push

from De Vac, the body lunged forward into the Thames, where a dull splash marked the end of the last hope

FOR three years following the disappearance of Prince Richard a bent old woman lived in the heart of

London within a stone's throw of the King's palace. In a small back room she lived, high up in the attic of an

old building, and with her was a little boy who never went abroad alone, nor by day. And upon his left breast

was a strange mark which resembled a lily. When the bent old woman was safely in her attic room, with

bolted door behind her, she was wont to straighten up, and discard her dingy mantle for more comfortable

For years she worked assiduously with the little boy's education. There were three subjects in her curriculum;

French, swordsmanship and hatred of all things Eng lish, especially the reigning house of England.

The old woman had had made a tiny foil and had commenced teaching the little boy the art of fence when he

"You will be the greatest swordsman in the world when you are twenty, my son," she was wont to say, "and

then you shall go out and kill many Englishmen. Your name shall be hated and cursed the length and breadth

of England, and when you finally stand with the halter about your neckaha, then will I speak. Then shall

The little boy did not understand it all, he only knew that he was comfortable, and had warm clothing, and all

he required to eat, and that he would be a great man when he learned to fight with a real sword, and had

grown large enough to wield one. He also knew that he hated Englishmen, but why, he did not know.

Way back in the uttermost recesses of his little, child ish head he seemed to remember a time when his life

and surroundings had been very different; when, in stead of this old woman, there had been many people

around him, and a sweet faced woman had held him in her arms and kissed him, before he was taken off to

bed at night; but he could not be sure, maybe it was only a dream he remembered, for he dreamed many

When the little boy was about six years of age a strange man came to their attic home to visit the little old

woman. It was in the dusk of the evening but the old woman did not light the cresset, and further, she

whispered to the little boy to remain in the shadows of a far corner of the bare chamber.

The stranger was old and bent and had a great beard which hid almost his entire face except for two piercing

eyes, a great nose and a bit of wrinkled forehead. When he spoke he accompanied his words with many

shrugs of his narrow shoulders and with waving of his arms and other strange and amusing gesticulations.

The child was fascinated. Here was the first amusement of his little starved life. He listened intently to the

"I have just the thing for madame," the stranger was saying. "It be a noble and stately hall far from the beaten

way. It was built in the old days by Harold the Saxon, but in later times death and poverty and the disfavor of

the King have wrested it from his descend ants. A few years since Henry granted it to that spend thrift

favorite of his, Henri de Macy, who pledged it to me for a sum he hath been unable to repay. Today it be my

property, and as it be far from Paris you may have it for the mere song I have named. It be a won drous

"And when I come upon it I shall find that I have bought a crumbling pile of ruined masonry, unfit to house a

"One tower hath fallen, and the roof for half the length of one wing hath sagged and tumbled in," ex plained

the old Frenchman. "But the three lower stories be intact and quite habitable. It be much grander even now

than the castles of many of England's noble barons, and the price, madameah, the price be so ridiculously

"Come," said the Frenchman, "I have it. Deposit the money with Isaac the Jewthou knowest him?and he

shall hold it together with the deed for forty days, which will give thee ample time to travel to Derby and

inspect thy purchase. If thou be not entirely satisfied Isaac the Jew shall return thy money to thee and the

deed to me, but if at the end of forty days thou hast not made demand for thy money then shall Isaac send the

deed to thee and the money to me. Be not this an easy and fair way out of the difficulty?"

The little old woman thought for a moment and at last conceded that it seemed quite a fair way to ar range

"We start tonight upon a long journey to our new home. Thy face shall be wrapped in many rags, for thou

"But I have no toothache. My teeth do not pain me at all. I" expostulated the child.

"Tut, tut," interrupted the little old woman. "Thou hast a toothache, and so thy face must be wrapped in many

rags. And listen, should any ask thee upon the way why thy face be so wrapped thou art to say that thou hast a

toothache. And thou do not do as I say the King's men will take us and we shall be hanged, for the King

hateth us. If thou hatest the English King and lovest thy life do as I command."

"I hate the King," replied the little boy. "For this reason I shall do as thou sayest."

So it was that they set out that night upon their long journey north toward the hills of Derby. For many days

they travelled, riding upon two small donkeys. Strange sights filled the days for the little boy who

remembered nothing outside the bare attic of his Lon don home and the dirty London alleys that he had

They wound across beautiful parklike meadows and through dark, forbidding forests, and now and again they

passed tiny hamlets of thatched huts. Occasionally they saw armored knights upon the highway, alone or in

small parties, but the child's companion always man aged to hasten into cover at the road side until the grim

Once, as they lay in hiding in a dense wood beside a little open glade across which the road wound, the boy

saw two knights enter the glade from either side. For a moment they drew rein and eyed each other in silence,

and then one, a great black mailed knight upon a black charger, cried out something to the other which the

boy could not catch. The other knight made no response other than to rest his lance upon his thigh and with

lowered point ride toward his ebon adversary. For a dozen paces their great steeds trotted slowly toward one

another but presently the knights urged them into full gallop, and when the two iron men on their iron trapped

chargers came together in the center of the glade it was with all the terrific impact of full charge.

The lance of the black knight smote full upon the linden shield of his foeman, the staggering weight of the

mighty black charger hurtled upon the gray who went down with his rider into the dust of the highway. The

momentum of the black carried him fifty paces beyond the fallen horseman before his rider could rein him in,

then the black knight turned to view the havoc he had wrought. The gray horse was just staggering dizzily to

With raised visor the black knight rode back to the side of his vanquished foe. There was a cruel smile upon

his lips as he leaned toward the prostrate form. He spoke tauntingly, but there was no response, then he

prodded the fallen man with the point of his spear. Even this elicited no movement. With a shrug of his iron

clad shoulders the black knight wheeled and rode on down the road until he had disappeared from sight

"Yes, and thou shalt ride the highways of England with thy stout lance and mighty sword, and behind thee

thou shalt leave a trail of blood and death, for every man shalt be thy enemy. But come, we must be on our

They rode on leaving the dead knight where he had fallen, but always in his memory the child carried the

thing that he had seen, longing for the day when he should be great and strong like the formidable black

On another day as they were biding in a deserted hovel to escape the notice of a caravan of merchants

journeying upcountry with their wares, they saw a band of ruffians rush out from the concealing shelter of

some bushes at the far side of the highway and fall upon the surprised and defenseless tradesmen.

Ragged, bearded, uncouth villains they were, armed mostly with bludgeons and daggers, with here and there

a crossbow. Without mercy they attacked the old and the young, beating them down in cold blood even

when they offered no resistance. Those of the caravan who could escaped, the balance the highwaymen left

At first the child was horrorstruck, but when he turned to the little old woman for sympathy he found a grim

"It is naught, my son. But English curs setting upon English swine. Some day thou shalt set upon both they

The boy made no reply, but he thought a great deal about that which he had seen. Knights were cruel to

knightsthe poor were cruel to the richand every day of the journey had forced upon his childish mind

that everyone must be very cruel and hard upon the poor. He had seen them in all their sorrow and misery and

povertystretching a long, scattering line all the way from London town. Their bent backs, their poor thin

bodies and their hopeless, sorrowful faces attest ing the weary wretchedness of their existence.

"Only he who wields the mightiest sword," responded the old woman. "You have seen, my son, that all Eng

lishmen are beasts. They set upon and kill one another for little provocation or for no provocation at all.

When thou shalt be older thou shalt go forth and kill them all for unless thou kill them they will kill thee."

At length, after tiresome days upon the road, they came to a little hamlet in the hills. Here the donkeys were

disposed of and a great horse purchased, upon which the two rode far up into a rough and uninviting country

away from the beaten track, until late one eve ning they approached a ruined castle.

The frowning walls towered high against the moonlit sky beyond, and where a portion of the roof had fallen

in, the cold moon, shining through the narrow unglazed windows, gave to the mighty pile the likeness of a

huge, many eyed ogre crouching upon the flank of a deserted world, for nowhere was there other sign of

Before this somber pile the two dismounted. The little boy was filled with awe and his childish imagina tion

ran riot as they approached the crumbling barbican on foot, leading the horse after them. From the dark

shadows of the ballium they passed into the moonlit inner court. At the far end the old woman found the

ancient stables, and here with decaying planks she penned the horse for the night, pouring a measure of oats

Then she led the way into the dense shadows of the castle, lighting their advance with a flickering pine knot.

The old planking of the floors, long unused, groaned and rattled beneath their approach. There was a sudden

scamper of clawed feet before them, and a red fox dashed by in a frenzy of alarm toward the freedom of the

Presently they came to the great hall. The old wo man pushed open the great doors upon their creaking

hinges and lit up dimly the mighty, cavernous interior with the puny rays of their feeble torch. As they

stepped cautiously within an impalpable dust arose in little spurts from the long rotted rushes that crumbled

beneath their feet. A huge bat circled wildly with loud fluttering wings in evident remonstrance at this rude

intrusion. Strange creatures of the night scurried or wriggled across wall and floor.

But the child was unafraid. Fear had not been a part of the old woman's curriculum. The boy did not know the

meaning of the word, nor was he ever in his after life to experience the sensation. With childish eagerness he

followed his companion as she inspected the in terior of the chamber. It was still an imposing room. The

boy clapped his hands in delight at the beauties of the carved and panelled walls and the oak beamed ceiling,

stained almost black from the smoke of torches and oil cressets that had lighted it in bygone days, aided, no

doubt, by the wood fires which had burned in its two immense fireplaces to cheer the merry throng of noble

Here they took up their abode. But the bent, old woman was no longer an old womanshe had become a

The little boy's education went onFrench, swords manship and hatred of the Englishthe same thing

year after year with the addition of horsemanship after he was ten years old. At this time the old man com

menced teaching him to speak English, but with a studied and very marked French accent. During all his life

now he could not remember of having spoken to any living being other than his guardian, whom he had been

His life in the Derby hills was so filled with the hard, exacting duties of his education that he had little time to

think of the strange loneliness of his existence; nor is it probable that he missed that companionship of others

of his own age of which, never having had ex perience in it, he could scarce be expected to regret or yearn

At fifteen the youth was a magnificent swordsman and horseman, and with an utter contempt for pain or

dangera contempt which was the result of the heroic methods adopted by the little old man in the training

of him. Often the two practiced with razorsharp swords, and without armor or other protection of any

"Thus only," the old man was wont to say, "mayst thou become the absolute master of thy blade. Of such a

nicety must be thy handling of the weapon that thou mayst touch an antagonist at will and so lightly, shouldst

thou desire, that thy point, wholly under the control of a master hand, mayst be stopped before it inflicts so

But in practice there were many accidents, and then one or both of them would nurse a punctured skin for a

few days. So, while blood was often let on both sides, the training produced a fearless swordsman who was

so truly the master of his point that he could stop a thrust within a fraction of an inch of the spot he sought.

At fifteen he was a very strong and straight and handsome lad. Bronzed and hardy from his outdoor life; of

few words, for there was none that he might talk with save the taciturn old man; hating the English, for that

he was taught as thoroughly as swordsmanship; speaking French fluently and English poorlyand wait ing

impatiently for the day when the old man should send him out into the world with clanking armor and lance

It was about this time that there occurred the first important break in the monotony of his existence. Far down

the rocky trail that led from the valley below through the Derby hills to the ruined castle, three armored

knights urged their tired horses late one after noon of a chill autumn day. Off the main road and far from

any habitation, they had espied the castle's towers through a rift in the hills, and now they spurred toward it in

As the road led them winding higher into the hills they suddenly emerged upon the downs below the castle

where a sight met their eyes which caused them to draw rein and watch in admiration. There before them

upon the downs a boy battled with a lunging, rearing horsea perfect demon of a black horse. Strik ing and

biting in a frenzy of rage it sought ever to escape or injure the lithe figure which clung leechlike to its

The boy was on the ground. His left hand grasped the heavy mane; his right arm lay across the beast's withers

and his right hand drew steadily in upon a halter rope with which he had taken a half hitch about the horse's

muzzle. Now the black reared and wheeled, striking and biting, full upon the youth, but the active figure

swung with himalways just behind the giant shoulderand ever and ever he drew the great arched neck

As the animal plunged hither and thither in great leaps he dragged the boy with him, but all his mighty efforts

were unavailing to loosen the grip upon mane and withers. Suddenly he reared straight into the air carrying

the youth with him, then with a vicious lunge he threw himself backward upon the ground.

"It's death!" exclaimed one of the knights, "he will kill the youth yet, Beauchamp."

"No!" cried he addressed. "Look! He is up again and the boy still clings as tightly to him as his own black

"'Tis true," exclaimed another, "but he hath lost what he had gained upon the halterhe must needs fight it

And so the battle went on again as before, the boy again drawing the iron neck slowly to the rightthe beast

fighting and squealing as though possessed of a thousand devils. A dozen times as the head bent far ther and

farther toward him the boy loosed his hold upon the mane and reached quickly down to grasp the near fore

pastern. A dozen times the horse shook off the new hold, but at length the boy was successful, and the knee

Now the black fought at a disadvantage, for he was on but three feet and his neck was drawn about in an

awkward and unnatural position. His efforts became weaker and weaker. The boy talked incessantly to him in

a quiet voice, and there was a shadow of a smile upon his lips. Now he bore heavily upon the black withers

pulling the horse toward him. Slowly the beast sank upon his bent kneepulling backward until his off fore

leg was stretched straight before him. Then with a final surge the youth pulled him over upon his side, and as

he fell slipped prone beside him. One sinewy hand shot to the rope just beneath the black chinthe other

For a few minutes the horse fought and kicked to gain his liberty, but with his head held to the earth he was

as powerless in the hands of the boy as a baby would have been. Then he sank panting and exhausted into

"Well done!" cried one of the knights. "Simon de Montfort himself never mastered a horse in better or der,

In an instant the lad was upon his feet his eyes searching for the speaker. The horse, released, sprang up also,

and the two stoodthe handsome boy and the beautiful blackgazing with startled eyes, like two wild

"Come, Sir Mortimer!" cried the boy, and turning he led the prancing but subdued animal toward the castle

"What ho, there, lad!" shouted Paul of Merely. "We wouldst not harm theecome, we but ask the way to the

"Come, Sir Knights," spoke Paul of Merely, "we will ride within and learn what manner of churls inhabit this

As they entered the great courtyard, magnificent even in its ruined grandeur, they were met by a little, grim

"We have lost our way in these devilish Derby hills of thine, old man," replied Paul of Merely. "We seek the

"Ride down straight to the river road, keeping the first trail to the right, and when thou hast come there turn

again to thy right and ride north beside the river thou canst not miss the wayit be plain as the nose

"Hold, old fellow!" cried the spokesman. "It be nigh onto sunset now, and we care not to sleep out again this

night as we did the last. We will tarry with you then till morn that we may take up our journey re freshed,

The old man grumbled, and it was with poor grace that he took them in to feed and house them over night.

But there was nothing else for it, since they would have taken his hospitality by force had he refused to give it

From their guests the two learned something of the conditions outside their Derby hills. The old man showed

less interest than he felt, but to the boy, not withstanding that the names he heard meant nothing to him, it

was like unto a fairy tale to hear of the won drous doings of earl and baron, bishop and king.

"If the King does not mend his ways," said one of the knights, "we will drive his whole accursed pack of

"De Montfort has told him as much a dozen times, and now that all of us, both Norman and Saxon barons,

have already met together and formed a pact for our mutual protection the King must surely realize that the

time for temporizing be past, and that unless he would have a civil war upon his hands he must keep the

promises he so glibly makes, instead of breaking them the moment De Montfort's back be turned."

"He fears his brotherinlaw," interrupted another of the knights, "even more than the devil fears holy water.

I was in attendance on his majesty some weeks since when he was going down the Thames upon the royal

barge. We were overtaken by as severe a thunder storm as I have ever seen, of which the King was in such

abject fear that he commanded that we land at the Bishop of Durham's palace opposite which we then were.

De Montfort, who was residing there, came to meet Henry, with all due respect, observing, 'What do you fear,

now, Sire, the tempest has passed?' And what thinkest thou old 'waxen heart' replied? Why, still trem bling,

he said, 'I do indeed fear thunder and lightning much, but, by the hand of God, I tremble before you more

"I surmise," interjected the grim, old man, "that De Montfort has in some manner gained an ascendancy over

"Not so," cried the oldest of the knights. "Simon de Montfort works for England's weal aloneand methinks,

nay knowest, that he would be first to spring to arms to save the throne for Henry. He but fights the King's

rank and covetous advisers, and though he must needs seem to defy the King himself, it be but to save his

tottering power from utter collapse. But, gad, how the King hates him. For a time it seemed that there might

be a permanent reconciliation when, for years after the disappearance of the little Prince Richard, De Mont

fort devoted much of his time and private fortune to prosecuting a search through all the world for the little

fellow, of whom he was inordinately fond. This self sacrificing interest on his part won over the King and

Queen for many years, but of late his unremitting hos tility to their continued extravagant waste of the na

The old man, growing uneasy at the turn the con versation threatened, sent the youth from the room on

As they were sitting at the evening meal one of the nobles eyed the boy intently, for he was indeed good to

look upon; his bright handsome face, clear, intelligent gray eyes, and square strong jaw framed in a mass of

brown waving hair banged at the forehead and falling about his ears, where it was again cut square at the

His upper body was clothed in a rough under tunic of wool, stained red, over which he wore a short leath

ern jerkin, while his doublet was also of leather, a soft and finely tanned piece of undressed doeskin. His long

hose, fitting his shapely legs as closely as another layer of skin, were of the same red wool as his tunic, while

his strong leather sandals were crossgartered half way to his knees with narrow bands of leather.

A leathern girdle about his waist supported a sword and a dagger and a round skull cap of the same materi

al, to which was fastened a falcon's wing, completed his picturesque and becoming costume.

"'S blood, Beauchamp," he continued, turning to one of his companions, "an' were he set down in court I

wager our gracious Queen would he hard put to it to tell him from the young Prince Edward. Dids't ever see

"Now that you speak of it, My Lord, I see it plainly. It is indeed a marvel," answered Beauchamp.

Had they glanced at the old man during this colloquy they would have seen a blanched face, drawn with

Presently the oldest member of the party of three knights spoke in a grave quiet tone.

"I do not know what you mean. I have no name. My father calls me son and no other ever before ad dressed

At this juncture the old man arose and left the room, saving he would fetch more food from the kitchen, but

"The lad appears about fifteen," said Paul of Merely, lowering his voice, "and so would be the little lost

Prince Richard, if he lives. This one does not know his name, or his age, yet he looks enough like Prince

"Come, my son," he continued aloud, "open your jerkin and let us have a look at your left breast, we shall

"Are you Englishmen?" asked the boy without mak ing a move to comply with their demand.

"Then it were better that I die than do your bidding, for all Englishmen are pigs and I loathe them as be

The knights, at first taken back by this unexpected outbreak, finally burst into uproarious laughter.

"Indeed," cried Paul of Merely, "spoken as one of the King's foreign favorites might speak, and they ever told

"No man lives who can harm me while a blade hangs at my side," answered the boy, "and as for doing as you

Beauchamp and Greystoke laughed aloud at the dis comfiture of Paul of Merely, but the latter's face hard

ened in anger, and without further words he strode forward with outstretched hand to tear open the boy's

leathern jerkin, but met with the gleaming point of a sword and a quick sharp, "En garde!" from the boy.

There was naught for Paul of Merely to do but draw his own weapon, in selfdefense, for the sharp point of

the boy's sword was flashing in and out against his unprotected body, inflicting painful little jabs, and the

boy's tongue was murmuring lowtoned taunts and insults as it invited him to draw and defend himself or be

Paul of Merely was a brave man and he liked not the idea of drawing against this stripling, but he argued that

he could quickly disarm him without harming the lad, and he certainly did not care to be further humili ated

But when he had drawn and engaged his youthful antagonist he discovered that, far from disarming him, he

Never in all his long years of fighting had he faced such an agile and dexterous enemy, and as they backed

this way and that about the room great beads of sweat stood upon the brow of Paul of Merely, for he realized

The loud laughter of Beauchamp and Greystoke soon subsided to grim smiles, and presently they looked on

The boy was fighting as a cat might play with a mouse. No sign of exertion was apparent, and his haughty

confident smile told louder than words that he had in no sense let himself out to his full capacity.

Around and around the room they circled, the boy always advancing, Paul of Merely always retreating. The

din of their clashing swords and the heavy breath ing of the older man were the only sounds, except as they

Paul of Merely was a brave man, but he shuddered at the thought of dying uselessly at the hands of a mere

boy. He would not call upon his friends for aid, but presently, to his relief, Beauchamp sprang between them

with drawn sword, crying "Enough, gentlemen, enough! You have no quarrel. Sheathe your swords."

But the boy's only response was, "En garde, cochon," and Beauchamp found himself taking the center of the

stage in the place of his friend. Nor did the boy neglect Paul of Merely, but engaged them both in swordplay

So swiftly moved his flying blade that half the time it was a sheet of gleaming light, and now he was driving

Paul of Merely and Beauchamp were wounded in a dozen places when Greystoke rushed to their aid, and

then it was that a little, wiry, gray man leaped agilely from the kitchen doorway, and with drawn sword took

his place beside the boy. It was now two against three and the three may have guessed, though they never

"To the death," cried the little gray man, "a mort, mon fils." Scarcely had the words left his lips ere, as though

it had but waited permission, the boy's sword flashed into the heart of Paul of Merely, and a Saxon gentleman

The old man engaged Greystoke now, and the boy turned his undivided attention to Beauchamp. Both these

men were considered excellent swordsmen, but when Beauchamp heard again the little gray man's "a mort,

mon fils," he shuddered, and the little hairs at the nape of his neck rose up, and his spine froze, for he knew

that he had heard the sentence of death passed upon him; for no mortal had yet lived who could vanquish

As Beauchamp pitched forward across a bench, dead, the little old man led Greystoke to where the boy

"They are thy enemies, my son, and to thee belongs the pleasure of revenge; a mort, mon fils."

Greystoke was determined to sell his life dearly, and he rushed the lad as a great bull might rush a teasing

dog, but the boy gave back not an inch and when Greystoke stopped there was a foot of cold steel pro

Together they buried the knights at the bottom of the dry moat at the back of the ruined castle. First they had

stripped them, and when they took account of the spoils of the combat they found themselves richer by three

horses with full trappings, many pieces of gold and silver money, ornaments and jewels, as well as the lances,

But the greatest gain, the old man thought to him self, was that the knowledge of the remarkable resem

blance between his ward and Prince Edward of Eng land had come to him in time to prevent the undoing of

The boy, while young, was tall and broad shouldered, and so the old man had little difficulty in fitting one of

the suits of armor to him, obliterating the devices so that none might guess to whom it had belonged. This he

did, and from then on the boy never rode abroad except in armor, and when he met others upon the high road

The day following the episode of the three knights the old man called the boy to him, saying,

"It is time, my son, that thou learned an answer to such questions as were put to thee yestereve by the pigs of

Henry. Thou art fifteen years of age, and thy name be Norman, and so, as this be the ancient castle of Torn,

thou mayst answer those whom thou desire to know it that thou art Norman of Torn; that thou be a French

gentleman whose father purchased Torn and brought thee hither from France on the death of thy mother,

"But remember, Norman of Torn, that the best an swer for an Englishman is the sword; naught else may

And so was born that Norman of Torn whose name in a few short years was to strike terror to the hearts of

Englishmen, and whose power in the vicinity of Torn was greater than that of the King or the barons.

FROM now on the old man devoted himself to the training of the boy in the handling of his lance and

battleaxe, but each day also a period was allotted to the sword, until, by the time the youth had turned six

teen, even the old man himself was as but a novice by comparison with the marvelous skill of his pupil.

During these days the boy rode Sir Mortimer abroad in many directions until he knew every bypath within a

radius of fifty miles of Torn. Sometimes the old man accompanied him, but more often he rode alone.

On one occasion he chanced upon a hut at the out skirts of a small hamlet not far from Torn, and, with the

curiosity of boyhood, determined to enter and have speech with the inmates, for by this time the natural

desire for companionship was commencing to assert it self. In all his life he remembered only the company

The hut was occupied by an old priest, and as the boy in armor pushed in, without the usual formality of

"What now," he said, "have the King's men respect neither for piety nor age that they burst in upon the

"I am no king's man," replied the boy quietly, "I am Norman of Torn, who has neither a king nor a god, and

who says 'by your leave' to no man. But I have come in peace because I wish to talk to another than my

father. Therefore you may talk to me, priest," he concluded with haughty peremptoriness.

"By the nose of John, but it must be a king has deigned to honor me with his commands," laughed the priest.

"Raise your visor, My Lord, I would fain look upon the countenance from which issue the commands of

The priest was a large man with beaming, kindly eyes, and a round jovial face. There was no bite in the tones

"A child in years, mayhap," replied the boy, "but a good child to own as a friend, if one has enemies who

"Then we shall be friends, Norman of Torn, for albeit I have few enemies no man has too many friends, and I

like your face and your manner, though there be much to wish for in your manners. Sit down and eat with me,

and I will talk to your heart's content, for be there one other thing I more love than eating, it is talking."

With the priest's aid the boy laid aside his armor, for it was heavy and uncomfortable, and together the two

Thus began a friendship which lasted during the lifetime of the good priest. Whenever he could do so

Norman of Torn visited his friend, Father Claude. It was he who taught the boy to read and write in French,

English and Latin at a time when but few of the nobles could sign their own names.

French was spoken almost exclusively at court and among the higher classes of society, and all public docu

ments were inscribed either in French or Latin, al though about this time the first proclamation written in the

Father Claude taught the boy to respect the rights of others, to espouse the cause of the poor and weak, to

revere God and to believe that the principal reason for man's existence was to protect woman. All of virtue

and chivalry and true manhood which his old guardian had neglected to inculcate in the boy's mind the good

priest planted there, but he could not eradicate his deepseated hatred for the English or his belief that the

An occurrence which befell during one of the boy's earlier visits to his new friend rather decided the latter

that no arguments he could bring to bear could ever overcome the bald fact that to this very belief of the

boy's, and his ability to back it up with acts, the good father owed a great deal, possibly his life.

As they were seated in the priest's hut one afternoon a rough knock fell upon the door which was immedi

ately pushed open to admit as disreputable a band of ruffians as ever polluted the sight of man. Six of them

there were, clothed in dirty leather, and wearing swords and daggers at their sides.

The leader was a mighty fellow with a great shock of coarse black hair and a red, bloated face almost con

cealed by a huge matted black beard. Behind him pushed another giant with red hair and a bristling mustache;

while the third was marked by a terrible scar across his left cheek and forehead and from a blow which had

evidently put out his left eye, for that socket was empty, and the sunken eyelid but partly covered the

"A ha, my hearties," roared the leader, turning to his motley crew, "fine pickings here indeed. A swine of God

fattened upon the sweat of such poor honest devils as we, and a young shoat who, by his looks, must have

"Say your prayers, my pigeons," he continued, with a vile oath, "for The Black Wolf leaves no evidence

"If it be The Black Wolf," whispered Father Claude to the boy, "no worse fate could befall us for he preys

ever upon the clergy, and when drunk as he now is, he murders his victims. I will throw myself before them

while you hasten through the rear doorway to your horse, and make good your escape." He spoke in French,

and held his hands in the attitude of prayer, so that he quite entirely misled the ruffians, who had no idea that

Norman of Torn could scarce repress a smile at this clever ruse of the old priest, and, assuming a similar

"The good Father Claude does not know Norman of Torn if he thinks he runs out the back door like an old

"I do not know what manner of grievance you hold against my good friend here, nor neither do I care. It is

sufficient that he is the friend of Norman of Torn, and that Norman of Torn be here in person to acknowl

edge the debt of friendship. Have at you, sir knights of the great filth and the mighty stink!" and with drawn

In the little room but two could engage him at once, but so fiercely did his blade swing and so surely did he

thrust that in a bare moment The Black Wolf lay dead upon the floor and the red giant, Shandy, was badly

though not fatally wounded. The four remaining ruffi ans backed quickly from the hut, and a more cautious

fighter would have let them go their way in peace, for in the open four against one are odds no man may pit

himself against with impunity. But Norman of Torn saw red when he fought and the red lured him ever on

into the thickest of the fray. Only once before had he fought to the death, but that once had taught him the

love of it, and ever after until his death it marked his manner of fighting; so that men who loathed and hated

and feared him were as one with those who loved him in acknowledging that never before had God joined in

So it was, now, that instead of being satisfied with his victory he rushed out after the four knaves. Once in the

open, they turned upon him, but he sprang into their midst with his seething blade, and it was as though they

faced four men rather than one, so quickly did he parry a thrust here and return a cut there. In a moment one

was disarmed, another down, and the remaining two fleeing for their lives toward the high road with Norman

Young, agile and perfect in health he outclassed them in running as well as in swordsmanship, and ere they

had made fifty paces both had thrown away their swords and were on their knees pleading for their lives.

"Come back to the good priest's hut, and we shall see what he may say," replied Norman of Torn.

On the way back they found the man who had been disarmed bending over his wounded comrade. They were

brothers, named Flory, and one would not desert the other. It was evident that the wounded man was in no

danger, so Norman of Torn ordered the others to assist him into the hut, where they found Red Shandy sitting

propped against the wall while the good father poured the contents of a flagon down his eager throat.

The villain's eyes fairly popped from his head when he saw his four comrades coming, unarmed and prison

"The Black Wolf dead, Red Shandy and John Flory wounded, James Flory, One Eye Kanty and Peter the

"Man or devil! By the Pope's hind leg, who and what be ye?" he said, turning to Norman of Torn.

"I be your master and ye be my men," said Norman of Torn. "Me ye shall serve in fairer work than ye have

The sight of this gang of ruffians banded together to prey upon the clergy had given rise to an idea in the

boy's mind, which had been revolving in a nebulous way within the innermost recesses of his subconscious

ness since his vanquishing of the three knights had brought him, so easily, such riches in the form of horses,

arms, armor and gold. As was always his wont in his after life, to think was to act.

"With The Black Wolf dead, and may the devil pull out his eyes with red hot tongs, we might look farther

and fare worse, mates, in search of a chief," spoke Red Shandy, eyeing his fellows, "for verily any man, be he

"To follow Norman of Torn where he may lead, to protect the poor and the weak, to lay down your lives in

defence of woman, and to prey upon rich Englishmen and harass the King of England."

The last two clauses of these articles of faith ap pealed to the ruffians so strongly that they would have

subscribed to anything, even daily mass, and a bath, had that been necessary to admit them to the service of

"Wait," said Norman of Torn, "there is more. You are to obey my every command on pain of instant death,

and onehalf of all your gains are to be mine. On my side I will clothe and feed you, furnish you with mounts

and armor and weapons and a roof to sleep under, and fight for and with you with a sword arm which you

"That we are," and "Long live Norman of Torn," and "Here's to the chief of the Torns" signified the ready

"Then swear it as ye kiss the hilt of my sword and this token," pursued Norman of Torn catching up a crucifix

With these formalities was born the Clan Torn, which grew in a few years to number a thousand men, and

which defied a king's army and helped to make Simon de Montfort virtual ruler of England.

Almost immediately commenced that series of out law acts upon neighboring barons, and chance members

of the gentry who happened to be caught in the open by the outlaws, that filled the coffers of Norman of Torn

with many pieces of gold and silver, and placed a price upon his head ere he had scarce turned eighteen.

That he had no fear of or desire to avoid responsi bility for his acts he grimly evidenced by marking with a

dagger's point upon the foreheads of those who fell before his own sword the initials NT.

As his following and wealth increased he rebuilt and enlarged the grim Castle of Torn, and again dammed the

Through all the length and breadth of the country that witnessed his activities his very name was wor

shipped by poor and lowly and oppressed. The money he took from the King's tax gatherers he returned to the

miserable peasants of the district, and once when Henry III sent a little expedition against him he sur

rounded and captured the entire force, and, stripping them, gave their clothing to the poor, and escorted them

By the time he was twenty Norman the Devil, as the King himself had dubbed him, was known by reputa

tion throughout all England, though no man had seen his face and lived, other than his friends and followers.

He bad become a power to reckon with in the fast culminating quarrel between King Henry and his for eign

Neither side knew which way his power might be turned, for Norman of Torn had preyed almost equally

upon royalist and insurgent. Personally, he had decided to join neither party, but to take advantage of the tur

As Norman of Torn approached his grim castle home with his five filthy ragged cutthroats on the day of his

first meeting with them, the old man of Torn stood watching the little party from one of the small towers of

Halting beneath this outer gate, the youth winded the horn which hung at his side in mimicry of the custom of

"What ho, without there!" challenged the old man entering grimly into the spirit of the play.

"'Tis Sir Norman of Torn," spoke up Red Shandy, "with his great host of noble knights and menatarms and

squires and lackeys and sumpter beasts. Open in the name of the good right arm of Sir Norman of Torn."

"What means this, my son?" said the old man as Norman of Torn dismounted within the ballium.

The youth narrated the events of the morning, con cluding with, "These, then, be my men, father; and

together we shall fare forth upon the highways and into the byways of England, to collect from the rich

"'Tis well, my son, and even as I myself would have it; together we shall ride out, and where we ride a trail of

"From now, henceforth, the name and fame of Nor man of Torn shall grow in the land, until even the King

shall tremble when he hears it, and shall hate and loathe ye as I have even taught ye to hate and loathe him.

"All England shall curse ye and the blood of Saxon and Norman shall never dry upon your blade."

As the old man walked away toward the great gate of the castle after this outbreak, Shandy, turning to

"By the Pope's hind leg, but thy amiable father loveth the English. There should be great riding after such as

"Ye ride after ME, varlet," cried Norman of Torn, "an' lest ye should forget again so soon who be thy master,

take that, as a reminder," and he struck the red giant full upon the mouth with his clenched fistso that the

He was on his feet in an instant, spitting blood, and in a towering rage. As he rushed, bulllike, toward

Norman of Torn, the latter made no move to draw; he but stood with folded arms, eyeing Shandy with cold,

level gaze; his head held high, haughty face marked by an arrogant sneer of contempt.

The great ruffian paused, then stopped, slowly a sheepish smile overspread his countenance and going upon

one knee he took the hand of Norman of Torn and kissed it, as some great and loyal noble knight might have

kissed his king's hand in proof of his love and fealty. There was a certain rude, though chivalrous grandeur in

the act; and it marked not only the begin ning of a lifelong devotion and loyalty on the part of Shandy

toward his young master, but was prophetic of the attitude which Norman of Torn was to inspire in all the

men who served him during the long years that saw thousands pass the barbicans of Torn to crave a position

As Shandy rose, one by one, John Flory, James, his brother, One Eye Kanty, and Peter the Hermit knelt

before their young lord and kissed his hand. From the Great Court beyond a little, grim, gray, old man had

"'Tis to transcend even my dearest dreams," he muttered. "'S death, but he be more a king than Henry himself.

God speed the day of his coronation, when, before the very eyes of the Plantagenet hound, a black cap shall

be placed upon his head for a crown; beneath his feet the platform of a wooden gibbet for a throne."

IT WAS a beautiful spring day in May, 1262, that Nor man of Torn rode alone down the narrow trail that

led to the pretty cottage with which he had replaced the hut of his old friend Father Claude.

As was his custom he rode with lowered visor, and nowhere upon his person or upon the trappings of his

horse were sign or insignia of rank or house. More powerful and richer than many nobles of the court he was

without rank or other title than that of outlaw and he seemed to assume what in reality he held in little esteem.

He wore armor because his old guardian bad urged him to do so, and not because he craved the protection it

afforded. And for the same cause he rode always with lowered visor, though he could never prevail upon the

"It is enough that I tell you, my son," the old fellow was wont to say, "that for your own good as well as mine

you must not show your face to your enemies until I so direct. The time will come and soon now, I hope,

The young man gave the matter but little thought, usually passing it off as the foolish whim of an old dotard;

Behind him, as he rode down the steep declivity that day, loomed a very different Torn from that which he

had approached sixteen years before, when, as a little boy he had ridden through the darkening shadows of

the night, perched upon a great horse behind the little old woman, whose metamorphosis to the little grim,

Today the great, frowning pile loomed larger and more imposing than ever in the most resplendent days of its

past grandeur. The original keep was there with its huge buttressed Saxon towers whose mighty fifteen foot

walls were pierced with stairways and vaulted chambers, lighted by embrasures which, mere slits in the outer

periphery of the walls, spread to larger dimen sions within, some even attaining the area of small triangular

The moat, widened and deepened, completely en circled three sides of the castle, running between the inner

and outer walls, which were set at intervals with small projecting towers so pierced that a flanking fire from

The fourth side of the walled enclosure overhung a high precipice, which natural protection rendered tow

The main gateway of the castle looked toward the west and from it ran the tortuous and rocky trail, down

through the mountains toward the valley below. The aspect from the great gate was one of quiet and rugged

beauty. A short stretch of barren downs in the fore ground only sparsely studded with an occasional gnarled

oak gave an unobstructed view of broad and lovely meadowland through which wound a sparkling tribu

Two more gateways let into the great fortress, one piercing the north wall and one the east. All three gates

were strongly fortified with towered and but tressed barbicans which must be taken before the main gates

could be reached. Each barbican was portcullised, while the inner gates were similarly safeguarded in

addition to the drawbridges which, spanning the moat when lowered, could be drawn up at the approach of an

The new towers and buildings added to the ancient keep under the direction of Norman of Torn and the grim,

old man whom he called father, were of the Nor man type of architecture, the windows were larger, the

Within the great enclosure thrived a fair sized town, for, with his ten hundred fightingmen, the Outlaw of

Torn required many squires, lackeys, cooks, scullions, armorers, smithies, farriers, hostlers and the like to

Fifteen hundred war horses, beside five hundred sumpter beasts, were quartered in the great stables, while the

Great wooden carts drawn by slow, plodding oxen were daily visitors to the grim pile, fetching provender for

man and beast from the neighboring farm lands of the poor Saxon peasants to whom Norman of Torn paid

These poor serfs, who were worse than slaves to the proud barons who owned the land they tilled, were for

bidden by royal edict to sell or give a pennysworth of provisions to the Outlaw of Torn, upon pain of death,

but nevertheless his great carts made their trips regu larly and always returned full laden, and though the

husbandmen told sad tales to their overlords of the awful raids of the Devil of Torn in which he seized upon

their stuff by force, their tongues were in their cheeks as they spoke and the Devil's gold in their pock ets.

And so, while the barons learned to hate him the more, the peasants' love for him increased. Them he never

injured; their fences, their stock, their crops, their wives and daughters were safe from molestation even

though the neighboring castle of their lord might be sacked from the wine cellar to the ramparts of the loftiest

tower. Nor did anyone dare ride rough shod over the territory which Norman of Torn patrolled. A dozen

bands of cutthroats he had driven from the Der by hills, and though the barons would much rather have

had all the rest than he, the peasants worshipped him as a deliverer from the lowborn murderers who had

been wont to despoil the weak and lowly and on whose account the women of the huts and cottages had never

Few of them had seen his face and fewer still had spoken with him, but they loved his name and his prowess

and in secret they prayed for him to their ancient god Wodin and the lesser gods of the forest and the meadow

and the chase, for though they were confessed Christians, still in the hearts of many beat a faint echo of the

old superstitions of their ancestors; and while they prayed also to the Lord Jesus and to Mary, yet they felt it

could do no harm to be on the safe side with the others, in case they did happen to exist.

A poor, degraded, downtrodden, ignorant, supersti tious people, they were; accustomed for generations to

the heel of first one invader and then another and in the interims, when there were any, the heels of their

No wonder then that such as these worshipped the Outlaw of Torn, for since their fierce Saxon ancestors had

come, themselves as conquerors, to England no other hand had ever been raised to shield them from

On this policy of his toward the serfs and freedmen Norman of Torn and the grim, old man whom he called

father had never agreed. The latter was for carrying his war of hate against all Englishmen, but the young

man would neither listen to it, nor allow any who rode out from Torn to molest the lowly. A ragged tunic was

a surer defence against this wild horde than a stout lance or an emblazoned shield.

So, as Norman of Torn rode down from his mighty castle to visit Father Claude, the sunlight playing on his

clanking armor and glancing from the copper boss of his shield, the sight of a little group of woodmen kneel

Entering the priest's study, Norman of Torn removed his armor and lay back moodily upon a bench with his

"What ails you, my son?" asked the priest, "that you look so disconsolate on this beautiful day?"

"I do not know, Father," replied Norman of Torn, "unless it be that I am asking myself the question, 'What it

is all for?' Why did my father train me ever to prey upon my fellows? I like to fight, but there is plenty of

fighting which is legitimate, and what good may all my stolen wealth avail me if I may not enter the haunts of

men to spend it? Should I stick my head into London town it would doubtless stay there, held by a hempen

"What quarrel have I with the King or the gentry? They have quarrel enough with me it is true, but, nath

less, I do not know why I should have hated them so before I was old enough to know how rotten they really

are. So it seems to me that I am but the instrument of an old man's spite, not even knowing the grievance to

"And at times, Father Claude, as I grow older, I doubt much that the nameless old man of Torn is my father,

so little do I favor him, and never in all my life have I heard a word of fatherly endearment or felt a caress,

"I have thought much of it, my son," answered the priest. "It has ever been a sore puzzle to me, and I have my

suspicions, which I have held for years, but which even the thought of so frightens me that I shud der to

speculate upon the consequences of voicing them aloud. Norman of Torn, if you are not the son of the old

man you call father may God forfend that Eng land ever guesses your true parentage. More than this I dare

not say except that as you value your peace of mind and your life, keep your visor down and keep out of the

"I can only guess, Norman of Torn, because I have seen another whom you resemble."

The conversation was interrupted by a commotion from without; the sound of horses' hoofs, the cries of men

and the clash of arms. In an instant both men were at the tiny unglazed window. Before them on the highroad

five knights in armor were now engaged in furious battle with a party of ten or a dozen other steel clad

warriors, while crouching breathless on her palfry a young woman sat a little apart from the contestants.

Presently one of the knights detached himself from the melee and rode to her side with some word of com

mand, at the same time grasping roughly at her bridle rein. The girl raised her riding whip and struck repeat

edly but futilely against the iron headgear of her assail ant while he swung his horse up the road, and, drag

Norman of Torn sprang to the door, and, reckless of his unarmored condition, leaped to Sir Mortimer's back

The great black was fleet, and, unencumbered by the usual heavy armor of his rider, soon brought the fugi

tives to view. Scarce a mile had been covered ere the knight, turning to look for pursuers, saw the face of

With a look of mingled surprise, chagrin and incredu lity the knight reined in his horse, exclaiming as he did

"Draw, or I stick you as I have stuck an hundred other English pigs," cried Norman of Torn.

The charging steed was almost upon him and the knight looked to see the rider draw rein, but like a black bolt

the mighty Sir Mortimer struck the other horse full upon the shoulder, and man and steed rolled in the dust of

The knight arose, unhurt, and Norman of Torn dis mounted to give fair battle upon even terms. Though

handicapped by the weight of his armor the knight also had the advantage of its protection, so that the two

The girl sat motionless and wideeyed at the side of the road watching every move of the two contestants.

She made no effort to escape, but seemed riveted to the spot by the very fierceness of the battle she was

beholding, as well, possibly, as by the fascination of the handsome giant who had espoused her cause. As she

looked upon her champion she saw a lithe, muscular, brownhaired youth whose clear eyes and perfect fig

ure, unconcealed by either bassinet or hauberk, re flected the clean, athletic life of the trained fighting man.

Upon his face hovered a faint, cold smile of haughty pride as the sword arm, displaying its mighty strength

and skill in every move, played with the sweating, puffing, steelclad enemy who hacked and hewed so

futilely before him. For all the din of clashing blades and rattling armor, neither of the contestants had in

flicted 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.

Finally by dint of his mighty strength, Norman of Torn drove his blade through the meshes of his adver

And surely, as Norman of Torn turned in the direc tion from which he had just come, there, racing toward

"Ride, madam," cried Norman of Torn, "for fly I shall not, nor may I, alone, unarmored, and on foot hope

more than to momentarily delay these three fel lows, but in that time you should easily make your

As he spoke he took note for the first time of the young woman. That she was a lady of quality was evidenced

not alone by the richness of her riding ap parel and the trappings of her palfrey, but as well in her noble and

Although at this time nearly twenty years had passed over the head of Norman of Torn he was without

knowl edge or experience in the ways of women, nor had he ever spoken with a female of quality or

position. No woman graced the castle of Torn nor had the boy, within his memory, ever known a mother.

His attitude therefore was much the same toward women as it was toward men, except that he had sworn

always to protect them. Possibly in a way he looked up to womankind, if it could be said that Norman of

Torn looked up to anything: God, man or devil. It being more his way to look down upon all creatures whom

As his glance rested upon this woman, whom fate had destined to alter the entire course of his life, Nor man

of Torn saw that she was beautiful, and that she was of that class against whom he had preyed for years with

his band of outlaw cutthroats. Then he turned once more to face her enemies with the strange inconsistency

Tomorrow he might be assaulting the ramparts of her father's castle, but today he was joyously offering to

sacrifice his life for herhad she been the daughter of a charcoal burner he would have done no lessit was

The three knights were now fairly upon him, and with fine disregard for fair play charged with couched

spears the unarmored man on foot. But as the leading knight came close enough to behold his face, he cried

"Mon Dieu, le Prince!" He wheeled his charging horse to one side. His fellows, hearing his cry, followed his

example, and the three of them dashed on down the high road in as evident anxiety to escape as they had been

"One would think they had met the devil," muttered Norman of Torn, looking after them in unfeigned aston

"What means it, lady?" he asked turning to the dam sel, who had made no move to escape.

"It means that your face is well known in your fath er's realm, my Lord Prince," she replied. "And the King's

men have no desire to antagonize you even though they may understand as little as I why you should espouse

"I am not the Prince," said Norman of Torn. "It is said that Edward is in France."

"Right you are, sir," exclaimed the girl. "I had not thought on that; but you be enough of his likeness that you

might well deceive the Queen herself. And you be of a bravery fit for a king's son. Who are you then, Sir

Knight, who has bared your steel and faced death for Bertrade, daughter of Simon de Montfort, Earl of

"Be you De Montfort's daughter, niece of King Henry?" queried Norman of Torn, his eyes narrowing to mere

"That I be," replied the girl, "an' from your face I take it you have little love for a De Montfort," she added,

"An' whither may you be bound, Lady Bertrade de Montfort? Be you niece or daughter of the devil, yet still

you be a woman, and I do not war against women. Wheresoever you would go will I accompany you to

"I was but now bound, under escort of five of my father's knights, to visit Mary, daughter of John de Stutevill

"I know the castle well," answered Norman of Torn, and the shadow of a grim smile played about his lips, for

scarce sixty days had elapsed since he had reduced the stronghold, and levied tribute on the great baron.

"Come, you have not far to travel now, and if we make haste you shall sup with your friend before dark."

So saying, he mounted his horse and was turning to retrace their steps down the road when he noticed the

Again dismounting he returned to the side of his late adversary, and lifting the dead knight's visor drew upon

The girl turned to see what detained him, but his back was toward her and he knelt beside his fallen foe

man, and she did not see his act. Brave daughter of a brave sire though she was, had she seen what he did her

heart would have quailed within her and she would have fled in terror from the clutches of this scourge of

England, whose mark she had seen on the dead fore heads of a dozen of her father's knights and kinsmen.

Their way to Stutevill lay past the cottage of Father Claude, and here Norman of Torn stopped to don his

armor. Now he rode once more with lowered visor, and in silence, a little to the rear of Bertrade de Mont

fort that he might watch her face, which, of a sudden, had excited his interest.

Never before, within the scope of his memory, had he been so close to a young and beautiful woman for so

long a period of time, although he had often seen women in the castles that had fallen before his vicious and

terrible attacks. While stories were abroad of his vile treatment of women captives, there was no truth in

them. They were merely spread by his enemies to incite the people against him. Never had Norman of Torn

laid violent hand upon a woman, and his cut throat band were under oath to respect and protect the sex, on

As he watched the semiprofile of the lovely face before him, something stirred in his heart which had been

struggling for expression for years. It was not love, nor was it allied to love, but a deep longing for com

panionship of such as she, and such as she represented. Norman of Torn could not have translated this feeling

into words for he did not know, but it was the far faint cry of blood for blood and with it, mayhap, was mixed

not alone the longing of the lion among jackals for other lions, but for his lioness.

"I am Nor" and then he stopped. Always before he had answered that question with haughty pride. Why

should he hesitate, he thought. Was it because he feared the loathing that name would inspire in the breast of

this daughter of the aristocracy he despised? Did Norman of Torn fear to face the look of seem and

"Raise your visor, Roger de Conde," she commanded. "I do not take pleasure in riding with a suit of armor; I

Norman of Torn smiled as he did her bidding, and when he smiled thus, as he rarely did, he was good to look

"It is the first command I have obeyed since I turned sixteen, Bertrade de Montfort," he said.

The girl was about nineteen, full of the vigor and gaiety of youth and health; and so the two rode on their

She told him of the reason for the attack upon her earlier in the day, attributing it to an attempt on the part of

a certain baron, Peter of Colfax, to abduct her, his suit for her hand having been peremptorily and roughly

Simon de Montfort was no man to mince words, and it is doubtless that the old reprobate who sued for his

daughter's hand heard some unsavory truths from the man who had twice scandalized England's nobility by

"This Peter of Colfax shall be looked to," growled Norman of Torn. "And as you have refused his heart and

hand, his head shall be yours for the asking. You have but to command, Bertrade de Montfort."

"Very well," she laughed, thinking it but the idle boasting so much indulged in in those days. "You may bring

"And what reward does the knight earn who brings to the feet of his princess the head of her enemy?" he

"That whatsoever a bad report you hear of your knight, of whatsoever calumnies may be heaped upon him,

The girl laughed gaily as she answered, though some thing seemed to tell her that this was more than play.

"It shall be as you say, Sir Knight," she replied. "And the boon once granted shall be always kept."

Quick to reach decisions and as quick to act, Norman of Torn decided that he liked this girl and that he

wished her friendship more than any other thing he knew of. And wishing it, he determined to win it by any

means that accorded with his standard of honor; an honor which in many respects was higher than that of the

They reached the castle of De Stutevill late in the afternoon, and there Norman of Torn was graciously

The grim humor of the situation was too much for the outlaw, and, when added to his new desire to be in the

company of Bertrade de Montfort, he made no effort to resist, but hastened to accept the warm welcome.

At the long table upon which the evening meal was spread sat the entire household of the Baron, and here and

there among the men were evidences of painful wounds but barely healed, while the host himself still wore

"We have been through grievous times," said Sir John, noticing that his guest was glancing at the vari ous

evidences of conflict. "That fiend, Norman the Devil, with his filthy pack of cutthroats besieged us for ten

days, and then took the castle by storm and sacked it. Life is no longer safe in England with the King

spending his time and money with foreign fa vorites and buying alien soldiery to fight against his own

barons, instead of insuring the peace and protec tion which is the right of every Englishman at home.

"But," he continued, "this outlaw devil will come to the end of a short halter when once our civil strife is

settled, for the barons themselves have decided upon an expedition against him, if the King will not subdue

"An' he may send the barons naked home as he did the King's soldiers," laughed Bertrade de Montfort. "I

should like to see this fellow; what may he look likefrom the appearance of yourself, Sir John, and many

"Not once did he raise his visor while he was among us," replied the Baron, "but there are those who claim

they had a brief glimpse of him and that he is of horrid countenance, wearing a great yellow beard and having

"A fearful apparition," murmured Norman of Torn. "No wonder he keeps his helm closed."

"But such a swordsman," spoke up a son of De Stute vill. "Never in all the world was there such sword play

"I, too, have seen some wonderful sword play," said Bertrade de Montfort, "and that today. O he!" she cried,

laughing gleefully, "verily do I believe I have captured the wild Norman of Torn, for this very knight, who

styles himself Roger de Conde, fights as I ne'er saw man fight before, and he rode with his visor down until I

Norman of Torn led in the laugh which followed, and of all the company he most enjoyed the joke.

"An' speaking of the Devil," said the Baron, "how think you he will side should the King eventually force war

upon the barons? With his thousand hellhounds the fate of England might well he in the palm of his bloody

"He loves neither King nor baron," spoke Mary de Stutevill, "and I rather lean to the thought that he will

serve neither, but rather plunder the castles of both rebel and royalist whilst their masters be absent at war."

"It be more to his liking to come while the master be home to welcome him," said De Stutevill, ruthfully.

"But yet I am always in fear for the safety of my wife and daughters when I be away from Derby for any

"I think you may have no need of fear on that score," spoke Mary, "for Norman of Torn offered no violence

to any woman within the wall of Stutevill, and when one of his men laid a heavy hand upon me, it was the

great outlaw himself who struck the fellow such a blow with his mailed hand as to crack the ruffian's helm,

saying at the time, 'Know you, fellow, Norman of Torn does not war upon women?'"

Presently the conversation turned to other subjects and Norman of Torn heard no more of himself during that

His stay at the castle of Stutevill was drawn out to three days, and then, on the third day, as he sat with

Bertrade de Montfort in an embrasure of the south tower of the old castle, he spoke once more of the

"To be with you, Bertrade of Montfort," he said boldly, "I would forego any other pleasure, and endure any

privation, or face any danger, but there are others who look to me for guidance and my duty calls me away

from you. You shall see me again, and at the castle of your father, Simon de Montfort, in Leicester.

"I shall always welcome you, wherever I may be, Roger de Conde," replied the girl.

"Remember that promise," he said smiling. "Some day you may be glad to repudiate it."

"Never," she insisted, and a light that shone in her eyes as she said it would have meant much to a man better

"I hope not," he said gravely. "I cannot tell you, being but poorly trained in courtly ways, what I should like

to tell you, that you might know how much your friendship means to me. Goodbye, Bertrade de Montfort,"

As he passed over the drawbridge and down toward the highroad a few minutes later on his way back to

Torn, he turned for one last look at the castle and there in an embrasure in the south tower stood a young

woman who raised her hand to wave, and then, as though by sudden impulse, threw a kiss after the de

As Norman of Torn rode back to his grim castle in the hills of Derby he had much food for thought upon the

way. Never till now had he realized what might lie in another manner of life, and he felt a twinge of bitterness

toward the hard old man whom he called father, and whose teachings from the boy's earliest childhood had

guided him in the ways that had out him off completely from the society of other men, except the wild horde

of outlaws, ruffians and adventurers that rode beneath the grisly banner of the young chief of Torn.

Only in an illdefined, nebulous way did he feel that it was the girl who had come into his life that caused

him for the first time to feel shame for his past deeds. He did not know the meaning of love, and so he could

And another thought which now filled his mind was the fact of his strange likeness to the Crown Prince of

England. This, together with the words of Father Claude, puzzled him sorely. What might it mean? Was it a

But now that he felt he had solved the reason that he rode always with closed helm he was for the first time

anxious himself to hide his face from the sight of men. Not from fear, for he knew not fear, but from some

AS Norman of Torn rode out from the castle of De Stutevill, Father Claude dismounted from his sleek

donkey within the ballium of Torn. The austere strong hold, notwithstanding its repellent exterior and un

savory reputation, always extended a warm welcome to the kindly, genial priest; not alone because of the

deep friendship which the master of Torn felt for the good father, but through the personal charm, and

It was doubtless due to his unremitting labors with the youthful Norman, during the period that the boy's

character was most amenable to strong impressions, that the policy of the mighty outlaw was in many re

spects pure and lofty. It was this same influence, though, which won for Father Claude his only enemy in

Torn; the little, grim, gray, old man whose sole aim in life seemed to have been to smother every finer

instinct of chivalry and manhood in the boy, to whose training he had devoted the past nineteen years of his

As Father Claude climbed down from his donkey fat people do not "dismount"a half dozen young

The good priest called each of his willing helpers by name, asking a question here, passing a merry joke there

with the ease and familiarity that bespoke mu tual affection and old acquaintance.

As he passed in through the great gate the menat arms threw him laughing, though respectful, welcomes

and within the great court, beautified with smooth lawn, beds of gorgeous plants, fountains, statues and small

shrubs and bushes, he came upon the giant, Red Shandy, now the principal lieutenant of Norman of Torn.

"Good morrow, Saint Claude!" cried the burly ruf fian. "Hast come to save our souls, or damn us? What

manner of sacrilege have we committed now, or have we merited the blessings of Holy Church? Dost come

"Neither, thou unregenerate villain," cried the priest, laughing. "Though methinks ye merit chiding for the

grievous poor courtesy with which thou didst treat the great Bishop of Norwich the past week."

"Tut, tut, Father," replied Red Shandy. "We did but aid him to adhere more closely to the injunctions and

precepts of Him whose servant and disciple he claims to be. Were it not better for an Archbishop of His

Church to walk in humility and poverty among His people, than to be ever surrounded with the tempta tions

of fine clothing, jewels and much gold, to say nothing of two sumpter beasts heavy laden with runlets of

"I warrant his temptations were less by at least as many runlets of wine as may be borne by two sumpter

"Yes, Father," laughed the great fellow, "for the sake of Holy Church I did indeed confiscate that tempta

tion completely, and if you must needs have proof in order to absolve me from my sins, come with me now

and you shall sample the excellent discrimination which the Bishop of Norwich displays in the selection of

"They tell me you left the great man quite destitute of finery, Red Shandy, " continued Father Claude, as he

"One garment was all that Norman of Torn would permit him, and as the sun was hot overhead he se lected

for the Bishop a bassinet for that single article of apparel, to protect his tonsured pate from the rays of old sol.

Then fearing that it might be stolen from him by some vandals of the road he had One Eye Kanty rivet it at

each side of the gorget so that it could not be removed by other than a smithy, and thus, strapped face to tail

upon a donkey, he sent the great Bishop of Norwich rattling down the dusty road with his head, at least,

protected from the idle gaze of whomsoever he might chance to meet. Forty stripes he gave to each of the

Bishop's retinue for being abroad in bad company; but come, here we are where you shall have the wine as

As the two sat sipping the Bishop's good Canary the little old man of Torn entered. He spoke to Father

Claude in a surly tone, asking him if he knew aught of the whereabouts of Norman of Torn.

"We have seen nothing of him since, some three days gone, he rode out in the direction of your cottage," he

"Why, yes," said the priest, "I saw him that day. He had an adventure with several knights from the castle of

Peter of Colfax, from whom he rescued a damsel whom I suspect from the trappings of her palfrey to be of

the house of Montfort. Together they rode north, but thy son did not say whither or for what purpose. His

only remark, as he donned his armor, while the girl waited without, was that I should now behold the falcon

"No," said the old man, "and doubtless his adven ture is of a nature in line with thy puerile and effemi nate

teachings. Had he followed my training, without thy accurst priestly interference, he had made an iron

barred nest in Torn for many of the doves of thy damned English nobility. An' thou leave him not alone he

"Where, perchance, he might be more at home than here," said the priest quietly.

"Oh," laughed the priest, "because he whose power and mien be even more kingly than the King's would

rightly grace the royal palace," but he had not failed to note the perturbation his remark had caused, nor did

At this juncture a squire entered to say that Shandy's presence was required at the gates, and that worthy, with

For a few moments the two men sat in meditative silence, which was presently broken by the old man of

"Priest," he said, "thy ways with my son are, as you know, not to my liking. It were needless that he should

have wasted so much precious time from sword play to learn the useless art of letters. Of what benefit may a

knowledge of Latin be to one whose doom looms large before him. It may be years and again it may be but

months, but as sure as there be a devil in hell Norman of Torn will swing from a king's gibbet. And thou

knowst it, and he too, as well as I. The things which thou hast taught him be above his station, and the hopes

and ambitions they inspire will but make his end the bitterer for him. Of late I have noted that he rides upon

the highway with less enthusiasm than was his wont, but he has gone too far ever to go back now; nor is there

where to go back to. What has he ever been other than outcast and outlaw? What hopes could you have

engendered in his breast greater than to be hated and feared among his blood enemies?"

"I knowst not thy reasons, old man," replied the priest, "for devoting thy life to the ruining of his, and what I

guess at be such as I dare not voice; but let us understand each other once and for all. For all thou dost and

hast done to blight and curse the nobleness of his nature, I have done and shall continue to do all in my power

to controvert. As thou hast been his bad angel, so shall I try to be his good angel, and when all is said and

done and Norman of Torn swings from the King's gibbet, as I only too well fear he must, there will be more

"His friends are from the ranks of the lowly, but so too were the friends and followers of our Dear Lord Jesus;

so that shall be more greatly to his honor than had he preyed upon the already unfortunate.

"Women have never been his prey; that also will be spoken of to his honor when he is gone, and that he has

been cruel to men will be forgotten in the greater glory of his mercy to the weak.

"Whatever be thy object: whether revenge or the natural bent of a cruel and degraded mind, I know not; but if

any be curst because of the Outlaw of Torn it will be thouI had almost said, unnatural father; but I do not

believe a single drop of thy debased blood flows in the veins of him thou callest son."

The grim old man of Torn had sat motionless through out this indictment, his face, somewhat pale, was

drawn into lines of malevolent hatred and rage, but he per mitted Father Claude to finish without

"Thou hast made thyself and thy opinions quite clear," he said bitterly, "but I be glad to know just how thou

standeth. In the past there has been peace be tween us, though no love; now let us both understand that it be

war and hate. My life work is cut out for me. Others, like thyself, have stood in my path, yet today I am here,

but where are they? Dost understand me, priest?" And the old man leaned far across the table so that his eyes,

burning with an insane fire of venom, blazed but a few inches from those of the priest.

Shortly after he had reached his cottage a loud knock sounded at the door, which immediately swung open

without waiting the formality of permission. Father Claude looked up to see the tall figure of Norman of

"And to thee, Father," replied the outlaw, "And what may be the news of Torn, I have been absent for several

"All be well at the castle," replied Father Claude, "if by that you mean have none been captured or hanged for

their murders. Ah, my boy, why wilt thou not give up this wicked life of thine? It has never been my way to

scold or chide thee, yet always hath my heart ached for each crime laid at the door of Norman of Torn."

"Come, come, Father," replied the outlaw, "what dost I that I have not good example for from the barons, and

the King, and Holy Church. Murder, theft, rapine! Passeth a day over England which sees not one or all

"Be it wicked for Norman of Torn to prey upon the wolf, yet righteous for the wolf to tear the sheep? Me

thinks not. Only do I collect from those who have more than they need, from my natural enemies; while they

"Yet," and his manner suddenly changed, "I do not love it, Father. That thou know. I would that there might

"If I told you why I wished it you would be sur prised indeed, nor can I myself understand; but, of a verity,

my greatest wish to be out of this life is due to the fact that I crave the association of those very ene mies I

have been taught to hate. But it is too late, Father, there can be but one end and that the lower end of a

"No, my son, there is another way, an honorable way," replied the good Father. "In some foreign clime there

be opportunities abundant for such as thee. France offers a magnificent, future to such a soldier as Norman of

Torn. In the court of Louis you would take your place among the highest of the land. You be rich and brave

and handsome, nay do not raise your hand, you be all these and more, for you have learning far beyond the

majority of nobles, and you have a good heart and a true chivalry of character. With such wondrous gifts

naught could bar your way to the highest pinnacles of power and glory, while here you have no future beyond

The young man stood silent for a moment, then he drew his hand across his eyes as though to brush away a

"There be a reason, Father, why I must remain in England for a time at least, though the picture you put is

THE visit of Bertrade de Montfort with her friend Mary de Stutevill was drawing to a close. Three weeks had

passed since Roger de Conde had ridden out from the portals of Stutevill and many times the hand some

young knight's name had been on the lips of his fair hostess and her fairer friend.

Today the two girls roamed slowly through the gar dens of the great court, their arms about each other's

waists, pouring the last confidences into each other's ears, for tomorrow Bertrade had elected to return to

"Methinks thou be very rash indeed, my Bertrade," said Mary. "Wert my father here he would, I am sure, not

"Fear not, Mary," replied Bertrade, "five of thy fath er's knights be ample protection for so short a journey.

By evening it will have been accomplished; and as the only one I fear in these parts received such a sound set

back from Roger de Conde recently I do not think he will venture again to molest me."

"But what about the Devil of Torn, Bertrade?" urged Mary. "Only yestereve, you wot, one of Lord de Grey's

menatarms came limping to us with the news of the awful carnage the foul fiend had wrought on his mas

ter's household. He be abroad, Bertrade, and I canst think of naught more horrible than to fall into his hands."

"Why, Mary, thou didst but recently say thy very self that Norman of Torn was most courteous to thee when

he sacked this, thy father's castle. How be it thou so soon has changed thy mind?"

"Yes, Bertrade, he was indeed respectful then, but who knows what horrid freak his mind may take, and they

do say that he be cruel beyond compare. Again, forget not that thou be Leicester's daughter and Henry's

niece; against both of whom the Outlaw of Torn open ly swears his hatred and his vengeance. Oh, Bertrade,

wait but for a day or so, I be sure my father must return ere then, and fifty knights shall accompany thee

"What be fifty knights against Norman of Torn, Mary? Thy reasoning is on a parity with thy fears, both have

"If I am to meet with this wild ruffian it were better that five knights were sacrificed than fifty, for either

number would be but a mouthful to that horrid horde of unhung murderers. No, Mary, I shall start tomorrow

and your good knights shall return the following day with the best of word from me."

"If thou wilst, thou wilst," cried Mary petulantly. "Indeed it were plain that thou be a De Montfort; that race

"Mayhap I shall find the brave Roger de Conde again upon the highroad to protect me. Then indeed shall I

send back your five knights, for of a truth his blade is more powerful than that of any ten men I ere saw fight

"Methinks," said Mary, still peeved at her friend's determination to leave on the morrow, "that should you

meet the doughty Sir Roger all unarmed that still would you send back my father's knights."

Bertrade flushed, and then bit her lip as she felt the warm blood mount to her cheek.

Mary broke into a joyful, teasing laugh; hugely en joying the discomfiture of the admission the telltale

"Ah, I did but guess how thy heart and thy mind tended, Bertrade; but now I seest that I divined all too truly.

"Hush, Mary!" commanded Bertrade. "Thou know not what thou sayest. I would not wipe my feet upon him,

I care naught whatever for him, and thenit has been three weeks since he rode out from Stutevill and no

"Oh, ho," cried the little plague, "so there lies the wind? My Lady would not wipe her feet upon him, but she

be sore vexed that he has sent her no word. Mon Dieu, but thou hast strange notions, Bertrade."

"I will not talk with you, Mary," cried Bertrade, stamping her sandaled foot, and with a toss of her pretty head

In a small chamber in the castle of Colfax two men sat at opposite sides of a little table. The one, Peter of

Colfax, was short and very stout. His red, bloated face, bleary eyes and bulbous nose bespoke the manner of

his life; while his thick lips, the lower hanging large and flabby over his receding chin, indicated the base

passions to which his life and been given. His com panion was a little, grim, gray man but his suit of armor

and closed helm gave no hint to his host of whom his guest might be. It was the little armored man who was

"Is it not enough that I offer to aid you, Sir Peter," he said, "that you must have my reasons? Let it go that my

hate of Leicester be the passion which moves me. Thou failed in thy attempt to capture the maiden; give me

"How knowest thou she rides out tomorrow for her father's castle?" asked Peter of Colfax.

"That again be no concern of thine, my friend, but I do know it, and, if thou wouldst have her, be quick, for

we should ride out tonight that we may take our positions by the highway in ample time tomorrow."

Still Peter of Colfax hesitated, he feared this might be a ruse of Leicester's to catch him in some trap. He did

not know his guestthe fellow might want the girl for himself and be taking this method of obtaining the

"Come," said the little, armored man irritably. "I cannot bide here forever. Make up thy mind; it be nothing to

me other than my revenge, and if thou wilst not do it I shall hire the necessary ruffians and then not even thou

"It is agreed," he said. "The men shall ride out with you in half an hour. Wait below, in the court yard."

When the little man had left the apartment Peter of Colfax summoned his squire whom he had send to him at

"Guy," said Peter of Colfax, as the man entered, "ye made a rare fizzle of a piece of business some weeks

"It chances that on the morrow ye may have oppor tunity to retrieve thy blunder. Ride out with ten men

where the stranger who waits in the courtyard below shall lead ye, and come not back without that which ye

"And, Guy, I half mistrust this fellow who hath of fered to assist us. At the first sign of treachery fall upon

The morning that Bertrade de Montfort had chosen to return to her father's castle dawned gray and threat

ening. In vain did Mary de Stutevill plead with her friend to give up the idea of setting out upon such a

"Already have I overstayed my time three days, and it is not lightly that even I, his daughter, fail in obedi

ence to Simon de Montfort. I shall have enough to account for as it be. Do not urge me to add even one more

day to my excuses. And again, perchance, my mother and my father may be sore distressed by my continued

absence. No, Mary, I must ride today." And so she did, with the five knights that could be spared from the

Scarcely half an hour had elapsed before a cold driz zle set in, so that they were indeed a sorry company that

splashed along the muddy road, wrapped in mantle and surcoat. As they proceeded the rain and wind in

creased in volume, until it was being driven into their faces in such blinding gusts that they must needs keep

Less than half the journey had been accomplished. They were winding across a little hollow toward a low

ridge covered with dense forest, into the somber shad ows of which the road wound. There was a glint of

armor among the drenched foliage, but the rainbuf feted eyes of the riders saw it not. On they came, their

Now they were half way up the ridge's side. There was a movement in the dark shadows of the grim wood,

and then without cry or warning a band of steelclad horsemen broke forth with couched spears. Charging at

full run down upon them they overthrew three of the girl's escort before a blow could be struck in her

defense. Her two remaining guardians wheeled to meet the return attack, and nobly did they acquit them

selves, for it took the entire eleven who were pitted against them to overcome and slay the two.

In the melee none had noticed the girl, but presently one of her assailants, a little, grim, gray man, discovered

that she had put spurs to her palfrey and escaped. Calling to his companions he set out at a rapid pace in

Reckless of the slippery road and the blinding rain, Bertrade de Montfort urged her mount into a wild run, for

she had recognized the arms of Peter of Colfax on the shields of several of the attacking party.

Nobly the beautiful Arab bent to her call for speed. The great beasts of her pursuers, bred in Normandy and

Flanders, might have been tethered in their stalls for all the chance they had of overtaking the flying white

But for the fiendish cunning of the little grim, gray man's foresight Bertrade de Montfort would have made

good her escape that day. As it was, however, her fleet mount had carried her but two hundred yards ere, in

the midst of the dark wood, she ran full upon a rope stretched across the roadway, between two trees.

As the horse fell, with a terrible lunge, tripped by the stout rope, Bertrade de Montfort was thrown far before

There they found her. The little, grim, gray man did not even dismount, so indifferent was he to her fate; dead

or in the hands of Peter of Colfax, it was all the same to him. In either event his purpose would be

accomplished, and Bertrade de Montfort would no longer lure Norman of Torn from the path he had laid out

That such an eventuality threatened he knew from one Spizo the Spaniard, the single traitor in the service of

Norman of Torn, whose mean aid the little grim, gray man had purchased since many months to spy upon the

The men of Peter of Colfax gathered up the lifeless form of Bertrade de Montfort and placed it across the

"Come," said the man called Guy, "if there be life left in her we must hasten to Sir Peter before it be extinct."

And so he sat watching them until they had disap peared in the forest toward the castle of Colfax.

Then he rode back to the scene of the encounter where lay the five knights of Sir John de Stutevill. Three

were already dead, the other two, sorely but not mortally wounded, lay groaning by the roadside.

The little grim, gray man dismounted as he came abreast of them and with his long sword silently finished the

two wounded men. Then, drawing his dagger, he made a mark upon the dead foreheads of each of the five,

"And if one fact be not enough," he muttered, "that mark upon the dead will quite effectually stop further

Henry de Montfort, son of Simon, rode fast and furious at the head of a dozen of his father's knights on the

Bertrade de Montfort was so long overdue that the Earl and Princess Eleanor, his wife, filled with grave

apprehensions, had posted their oldest son off to the castle of John de Stutevill to fetch her home.

With the wind and rain at their backs the little party rode rapidly along the muddy road, until late in the

afternoon they came upon a white palfrey standing huddled beneath a great oak, his arched back toward the

"By God," cried De Montfort, "tis my sister's own Abdul. There be something wrong here indeed." But a

rapid search of the vicinity, and loud calls brought no further evidence of the girl's whereabouts, so they

Some two miles beyond the spot where the white palfrey had been found they came upon the dead bodies of

Dismounting, Henry de Montfort examined the bodies of the fallen men. The arms upon shield and helm

As he bent over them to see if he recognized any of the knights there stared up into his face from the

foreheads of the dead men the dreaded sign, NT, scratched there with a dagger's point.

"The curse of God be on him!" cried De Montfort. "It be the work of the Devil of Torn, my gentlemen," he

said to his followers. "Come, we need no further guide to our destination." And, remounting, the little party

When Bertrade de Montfort regained her senses she was in bed in a strange room, and above her bent an old

"Ho, ho!" she croaked. "The bride waketh. I told My Lord that it would take more than a tumble in the mud

to kill a De Montfort. Come, come, now, arise and clothe thyself, for the handsome bridegroom canst scarce

restrain his eager desire to fold thee in his arms. Below in the great hall he paces to and fro, the red blood

"Who be ye?" cried Bertrade de Montfort, her mind still dazed from the effects of her fall. "Where am I?" and

then, "O, Mon Dieu!" as she remembered the events of the afternoon; and the arms of Colfax upon the shields

of the attacking party. In an instant she realized the horror of her predicament; its utter hope lessness.

Beast though he was, Peter of Colfax stood high in the favor of the King; and the fact that she was his niece

would scarce aid her cause with Henry, for it was more than counterbalanced by the fact that she was the

In the corridor without she heard the heavy tramp of approaching feet, and presently a man's voice at the

"Yes, Sir Peter," replied the old woman, "I was but just urging her to arise and clothe herself, saying that you

"Haste then, My Lady Bertrade," called the man, "no harm will be done thee if thou showest the good sense I

give thee credit for. I will await thee in the great hall, or, if thou prefer, wilt come to thee here."

The girl paled, more in loathing and contempt than in fear, but the tones of her answer were calm and level.

"I will see thee below, Sir Peter, anon," and rising, she hastened to dress, while the receding footsteps of the

Baron diminished down the stairway which led from the tower room in which she was imprisoned.

The old woman attempted to draw her into conver sation, but the girl would not talk. Her whole mind was

A half hour later she entered the great hall of the castle of Peter of Colfax. The room was empty. Little

change had been wrought in the apartment since the days of Ethelwolf. As the girl's glance ranged the hall in

search of her jailer it rested upon the narrow, un glazed windows beyond which lay freedom. Would she

ever again breathe God's pure air outside these stifling walls? These grimy hateful walls! Black as the inky

rafters and wainscot except for occasional splotches a few shades less begrimed, where repairs had been

made. As her eyes fell upon the trophies of war and chase which hung there her lips curled in scorn, for she

knew that they were acquisitions by inheritance rather than by the personal prowess of the present master of

A single cresset lighted the chamber, while the flicker ing light from a small wood fire upon one of the two

Bertrade crossed the room and leaned against a mas sive oak table, blackened by age and hard usage to the

color of the beams above, dented and nicked by the pounding of huge drinking horns and heavy swords when

wild and lusty brawlers had been moved to ap plause by the lay of some wandering minstrel, or the sterner

Her wandering eyes took in the dozen benches and the few rude, heavy chairs which completed the rough

furnishings of this rough room, and she shuddered. One little foot tapped sullenly upon the disordered floor

which was littered with a miscellany of rushes inter spread with such bones and scraps of food as the dogs

But to none of these surroundings did Bertrade de Montfort give but passing heed; she looked for the man she

sought that she might quickly have the en counter over and learn what fate the future held in store for her.

Her quick glance had shown her that the room was quite empty, and that in addition to the main doorway at

the lower end of the apartment, where she had en tered, there was but one other door leading from the hall.

This was at one side, and as it stood ajar she could see that it led into a small room, apparently a bedchamber.

As she stood facing the main doorway a panel opened quietly behind her and directly back of where the

thrones had stood in past times. From the black mouth of the aperture stepped Peter of Colfax. Silently he

closed the panel after him, and with soundless steps advanced toward the girl. At the edge of the raised dais

If his aim had been to unnerve her by the suddenness and mystery of his appearance he failed signally, for she

"What explanation hast thou to make, Sir Peter, for this base treachery against thy neighbor's daughter and

"When fond hearts be thwarted by a cruel parent," replied the potbellied old beast in a soft and fawning

tone, "love must still find its way; and so thy gallant swain hath dared the wrath of thy great father and

majestic uncle, and lays his heart at thy feet, O beau teous Bertrade, knowing full well that thine hath been

hungering after it since we didst first avow our love to thy hard hearted sire. See I kneel to thee, my dove!"

Bertrade turned and as she saw him her haughty countenance relaxed into a sneering smile.

"Thou art a fool, Sir Peter," she said, "and, at that, the worst species of foolan ancient fool. It is useless to

pursue thy cause, for I will have none of thee. Let me hence, if thou be a gentleman, and no word of what

hath transpired shall ever pass my lips. But let me go, 'tis all I ask, and it is useless to detain me for I cannot

Her first words had caused the red of humiliation to mottle his already ruby visage to a semblance of purple,

and now, as he attempted to rise with dignity he was still further covered with confusion by the fact that his

huge stomach made it necessary for him to go upon all fours before he could rise, so that he got up much after

the manner of a cow, raising his stern high in air in a most ludicrous fashion. As he gained his feet he saw the

"Return to thy chamber," he thundered. "I will give thee until tomorrow to decide whether thou wilt ac cept

Peter of Colfax as thy husband, or take another position in his household which will bar thee for all time from

"I will be wife to no buffoon; to no clumsy old clown; to no debauched, degraded parody of a man. And as

for thy other rash threat, thou hast not the guts to put thy wishes into deeds, thou craven coward, for well ye

know that Simon de Montfort would cut out thy foul heart with his own hand if he ever suspected thou wert

guilty of speaking of such to me, his daugh ter." And Bertrade de Montfort swept from the great hall, and

The old woman kept watch over her during the night and until late the following afternoon, when Peter of

Colfax summoned his prisoner before him once more. So terribly had the old hag played upon the girl's fears

that she felt fully certain that the Baron was quite equal to his dire threat, and so she had again been casting

The room in which she was imprisoned was in the west tower of the castle, fully a hundred feet above the

moat, which the single embrasure overlooked. There was, therefore, no avenue of escape in this direction.

The solitary door was furnished with huge oaken bars, and itself composed of mighty planks of the same

If she could but get the old woman out, thought Bertrade, she could barricade herself within and thus delay, at

least, her impending fate in the hope that suc cor might come from some source. But her most subtle wiles

proved ineffectual in ridding her, even for a mo ment, of her harpy jailer; and now that the final sum mons

Her dagger had been taken from her, but one hung from the girdle of the old woman and this Bertrade

Feigning trouble with the buckle of her own girdle she called upon the old woman to aid her, and as the hag

bent her head close to the girl's body to see what was wrong with the girdle clasp, Bertrade reached quick ly

to her side and snatched the weapon from its sheath. Quickly she sprang back from the old woman who, with

"Back!" cried the girl. "Stand back, old hag, or thou shalt feel the length of thine own blade."

The woman hesitated and then fell to cursing and blaspheming in a most horrible manner, at the same time

Bertrade backed to the door, commanding the old woman to remain where she was, on pain of death, and

quickly dropped the mighty bars into place. Scarcely had the last great bolt been slipped than Peter of Colfax

"The wench has wrested my dagger from me and is murdering me," shrieked the old woman.

"An' that I will truly do, Peter of Colfax," spoke Bertrade, "if you do not immediately send for my friends to

conduct me from thy castle, for I will not step my foot from this room until I know that mine own people

Peter of Colfax pled and threatened, commanded and coaxed, but all in vain. So passed the afternoon, and as

darkness settled upon the castle the Baron desisted from his attempts, intending to starve his prisoner out.

Within the little room Bertrade de Montfort sat upon a bench guarding her prisoner, from whom she did not

dare move her eyes for a single second. All that long night she sat thus, and when morning dawned it found

Early in the morning Peter of Colfax resumed his endeavors to persuade her to come out; he even ad mitted

defeat and promised her safe conduct to her father's castle, but Bertrade de Montfort was not one to be fooled

"Gladly will I starve in preference to falling into thy foul hands," replied the girl. "But thy old servant here

will starve first, for she be very old and not so strong as I. Therefore how will it profit you to kill two and still

Peter of Colfax entertained no doubt but that his fair prisoner would carry out her threat and so he set his men

For hours they labored upon that mighty work of defence, and it was late at night ere they made a little

opening large enough to admit a hand and arm, but the first one intruded within the room to raise the bars was

drawn quickly back with a howl of pain from its owner. Thus the keen dagger in the girl's hand put an end to

To this work the men without then set themselves diligently while Peter of Colfax renewed his entreaties,

"Seest thou this poniard?" she asked. "When that door falls this point enters my heart. There is nothing

beyond that door, with thou, poltroon, to which death in this little chamber would not be preferable."

As she spoke she turned toward the man she was addressing, for the first time during all those weary, hideous

hours removing her glance from the old hag. It was enough. Silently, but with the quickness of a tigress the

old woman was upon her back, one claw like paw grasping the wrist which held the dagger.

Instantly Peter of Colfax ran his arm through the tiny opening in the door and a second later four of his men

Easily they wrested the dagger from Bertrade's fin gers, and at the Baron's bidding they dragged her to the

As his retainers left the room at his command Peter of Colfax strode back and forth upon the rushes which

strewed the floor. Finally he stopped before the girl standing rigid in the center of the room.

"Hast come to thy senses yet, Bertrade de Mont fort?" he asked angrily. "I have offered you your choice; to

be the honored wife of Peter of Colfax, or, by force, his mistress. The good priest waits without, what be your

"The same as it has been these past two days," she replied with haughty scorn. "The same that it shall always

be. I will be neither wife nor mistress to a co ward; a hideous, abhorrent pig of a man. I would die, it seems,

if I felt the touch of your hand upon me. You do not dare to touch me, you craven. I, the daugh ter of an

"Hold, chit!" cried the Baron, livid with rage. "You have gone too far. Enough of this; and you love me not

now I shall learn you to love ere the sun rises." And with a vile oath he grasped the girl roughly by the arm,

FOR three weeks after his meeting with Bertrade de Montfort and his sojourn at the castle of John de Stute

vill, Norman of Torn was busy with his wild horde in reducing and sacking the castle of John de Grey, a

royal ist baron who had captured and hanged two of the out law's fighting men; and never again after his

meeting with the daughter of the chief of the barons did Nor man of Torn raise a hand against the rebels or

Shortly after his return to Torn, following the success ful outcome of his expedition, the watch upon the

tower reported the approach of a dozen armed knights. Norman sent Red Shandy to the outer walls to learn

the mission of the party, for visitors seldom came to this inaccessible and unhospitable fortress; and he well

knew that no party of a dozen knights would venture with hostile intent within the clutches of his great band

The great red giant soon returned to say that it was Henry de Montfort, oldest son of the Earl of Leicester,

who had come under a flag of truce and would have speech with the master of Torn.

When the party, a few moments later, was ushered into his presence it found itself facing a mailed knight

"Be ye Norman of Torn?" he asked. And did he try to conceal the hatred and loathing which he felt, he was

"They call me so," replied the visored knight. "And what may bring a De Montfort after so many years to

"Well ye know what brings me, Norman of Torn," re plied the young man. "It is useless to waste words, and

we cannot resort to arms, for you have us entirely in your power. Name your price and it shall be paid, only

"Yes, my sister Bertrade whom you stole upon the highroad two days since, after murdering the knights of

John de Stutevill who were fetching her home from a visit upon the Baron's daughter. We know that it was

"Shandy!" roared Norman of Torn. "WHAT MEANS THIS? Who has been upon the road, attacking women,

in my absence? You were here and in charge during my visit to my Lord de Grey. As you value your hide,

"Since you laid me low in the hut of the good priest I have served you well, Norman of Torn; you should

know my loyalty by this time and that never have I lied to you. No man of yours has done this thing, nor is it

the first time that vile scoundrels have placed your mark upon their dead that they might thus escape sus

"Henry de Montfort," said Norman of Torn, turning to his visitor, "we of Torn bear no savory name, that I

know full well, but no man may say that we un sheath our swords against women. Your sister is not here. I

"They say you never lie," replied De Montfort. "Would to God I knew who had done this thing, or which way

Norman of Torn made no reply, his thoughts were in wild confusion, and it was with difficulty that he hid the

fierce anxiety of his heart or his rage against the perpetrators of this dastardly act which tore his whole being.

In silence De Montfort turned and left, nor had his party scarce passed the drawbridge ere the castle of Torn

Some thirty minutes later five hundred iron clad horses carried their mailed riders beneath the portcullis of

the grim pile, and Norman the Devil, riding at their head, spurred rapidly in the direction of the castle of Peter

The great troop, winding down the rocky trail from Torn's buttressed gates, presented a picture of wild

The armor of the men was of every style and metal from the ancient banded mail of the Saxon to the richly

and precious stones set in plumed crest and breastplate and shield, and even in the steel spiked chamfrons of

the horses' head armor showed the rich loot which had fal len to the portion of Norman of Torn's wild

Fluttering pennons streamed from five hundred lance points, and the gray banner of Torn, with the black

falcon's wing, flew above each of the five companies. The great linden wood shields of the men were cov

ered with gray leather and in the upper right hand corner of each was the black falcon's wing. The sur coats

of the riders were also uniform, being of dark gray villosa faced with black wolf skin, so that notwith

standing the richness of the armor and the horse trap pings there was a grim, gray warlike appearance to

Recruited from all ranks of society and from every civilized country of Europe the great horde of Torn

numbered in its ten companies serf and noble; Britain, Saxon, Norman, Dane, German, Italian and French,

Here birth caused no distinctions; the escaped serf, with the gall marks of his brass collar still visible about

his neck, rode shoulder to shoulder with the outlawed scion of a noble house. The only requisites for admis

sion to the troop were willingness and ability to fight, and an oath to obey the laws made by Norman of Torn.

The little army was divided into ten companies of one hundred men, each company captained by a fighter of

Our old friends Red Shandy, and John and James Flory led the first three companies, the remaining seven

One Eye Kanty, owing to his early trade, held the always important post of chief armorer, while Peter the

Hermit, the last of the five cutthroats whom Norman of Torn had bested that day, six years before, in the hut

of Father Claude, had become majordomo of the great castle of Torn, which post included also the vital func

The old man of Torn attended to the training of serf and squire in the art of war, for it was ever necessary to

fill the gaps made in the companies, due to their constant encounters upon the highroad and their bat tles at

the taking of some feudal castle; in which they did not always come off unscathed, though usually vic

Today, as they wound west across the valley, Norman of Torn rode at the head of the cavalcade, which strung

out behind him in a long column. Above his gray steel armor a falcon's wing rose from his crest. It was the

insignia which always marked him to his men in the midst of battle. Where it waved might always be found

Beside Norman of Torn rode the grim, gray, old man, silent and taciturn; nursing his deep hatred in the

At the head of their respective companies rode the five captains: Red Shandy; John Flory; Edwild the Serf;

The hamlets and huts which they passed in the morn ing and early afternoon brought forth men, women and

children to cheer and wave Godspeed to them; but as they passed farther from the vicinity of Torn where the

black falcon wing was known more by the ferocity of its name than by the kindly deeds of the great outlaw to

the lowly of his neighborhood, they saw only closed and barred doors with an occasional fright ened face

It was midnight ere they sighted the black towers of Colfax silhouetted against the starry sky. Drawing his

men into the shadows of the forest a half mile from the castle, Norman of Torn rode forward with Shandy and

some fifty men to a point as close as they could come without being observed. Here they dismounted and

Taking advantage of every cover he approached to the very shadows of the great gate without being detected.

In the castle a light shone dimly from the windows of the great hall, but no other sign of life was apparent. To

his intense surprise, Norman of Torn found the draw bridge lowered and no sign of watchmen at the gate or

As he had sacked this castle some two years since he was familiar with its internal plan, and so he knew that

through the scullery he could reach a small ante chamber above, which let directly into the great hall.

And so it happened that as Peter of Colfax wheeled toward the door of the little room he stopped short in

terror, for there before him stood a strange knight in armor, with lowered visor and drawn sword. The girl

"Draw!" commanded a low voice in English, "unless you prefer to pray, for you are about to die."

"Who be ye, varlet?" cried the Baron. "Ho, John! Ho, Guy! To the rescue, quick!" he shrieked, and drawing

his sword he attempted to back quickly toward the main doorway of the hall; but the man in armor was upon

It had been short shrift for Peter of Colfax that night had not John and Guy and another of his henchmen

"Ware! Sir Knight," cried the girl, as she saw the three knaves rushing to the aid of their master.

Turning to meet their assault the knight was forced to abandon the terrorstricken Baron for an instant, and

again he had made for the doorway bent only on es cape; but the girl had divined his intentions, and run

ning quickly to the entrance she turned the great lock and threw the key with all her might to the far corner of

the hall. In an instant she regretted her act, for she saw that where she might have reduced her rescuer's

opponents by at least one she had now forced the cowardly Baron to remain, and nothing fights more fiercely

The knight was holding his own splendidly with the three retainers, and for an instant Bertrade de Mont fort

Fighting the three alternately, in pairs and again all at the same time the silent knight, though weighted by his

heavy armor, forced them steadily back; his flashing blade seeming to weave a net of steel about them. Sud

denly his sword stopped just for an instant, stopped in the heart of one of his opponents, and as the man

lunged to the floor it was flashing again close to the breasts of the two remaining menatarms.

Another went down less than ten seconds later, and then the girl's attention was called to the face of the

horrified Baron; Peter of Colfax was movingslowly and cautiously, he was creeping, from behind, toward

For an instant the girl stood frozen with horror, un able to move a finger or to cry out; but only for an

instant, and then, regaining control of her muscles, she stooped quickly and grasping a heavy footstool

It struck him below the knees and toppled him to the floor just as the knight's sword passed through the throat

As the Baron fell he struck heavily upon a table which supported the only 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

"Are you safe and unhurt, my Lady Bertrade?" asked a grave English voice out of the darkness.

"He lay here upon the floor but a moment since, and carried a thin long dagger in his hand. Have a care, Sir

The knight did not answer, but she heard him mov ing boldly about the room. Soon he had found another

lamp and made a light. As its feeble rays slowly pene trated the black gloom the girl saw the bodies of the

three menatarms, 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.

"How know you my name?" she asked. "Who may you be? I do not recognize your armor, and your

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 sword play as

well. It must be he, and yet Roger de Conde had spoken no English while this man spoke it well, though, it

"My Lady Bertrade, I be Norman of Torn," said the visored knight with quiet dignity.

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.

Beneath the visored helm a wave of pain and sorrow surged across the countenance of the outlaw, and a little

"You need not fear, My Lady," he said sadly. "You shall be in your father's castle of Leicester ere the sun

marks noon. And you will be safer under the protection of the hated Devil of Torn than with your own mighty

"It is said that you never lie, Norman of Torn," spoke the girl, "and I believe you, but tell me why you thus

"It is not for love of your father or your brothers, nor yet hatred of Peter of Colfax, nor neither for any reward

He led her in silence to the courtyard and across the lowered drawbridge, to where they soon discovered a

group of horsemen, and in answer to a low challenge from Shandy, Norman of Torn replied that it was he.

"Take a dozen men, Shandy, and search yon hellhole. Bring out to me, alive, Peter of Colfax, and My Lady's

cloak and a palfreyand Shandy, when all is done as I say, you may apply the torch! but no looting,

Shandy looked in surprise upon his leader, for the torch had never been a weapon of Norman of Torn, while

loot, if not always the prime object of his many raids, was at least a very important consideration.

The outlaw noticed the surprised hesitation of his faithful subaltern and signing him to listen, said:

"Red Shandy, Norman of Torn has fought and sacked and pillaged for the love of it, and for a principle which

was at best but a vague generality. Tonight we ride to redress a wrong done to My Lady Bertrade de Mont

fort, and that, Shandy, is a different matter. The torch, Shandy, from tower to scullery, but in the service of

"He has flown, My Lord," the big fellow reported, and indeed it was true. Peter of Colfax had passed through

the vaults beneath his castle and by a long sub terranean passage had reached the quarters of some priests

without the lines of Norman of Torn. By this time he was several miles on his way to the coast, and France;

for he had recognized the swordsmanship of the outlaw, and did not care to remain in England and face the

"He will return," was the outlaw's only comment, when he had been fully convinced that the Baron had es

They watched until the castle had burst into flames in a dozen places, the prisoners huddled together in terror

When Norman of Torn had assured himself that no human power could now save the doomed pile, he ordered

that the march be taken up, and the warriors filed down the roadway behind their leader and Ber trade de

Montfort, leaving their erstwhile prisoners sorely puzzled but unharmed and free.

As they looked back they saw the heavens red with the great flames that sprang high above the lofty towers.

Immense volumes of dense smoke rolled south ward across the sky line. Occasionally it would clear away

from the burning castle for an instant to show the black walls pierced by their hundreds of embrasures, each

lit up by the red of the raging fire within. It was a gorgeous, impressive spectacle, but one so common in

those fierce, wild days, that none thought it worthy of more than a passing backward glance.

Varied emotions filled the breasts of the several riders who wended their slow way down the mudslippery

road. Norman of Torn was both elated and sad. Elated that he had been in time to save this girl who

awakened such strange emotions in his breast; sad that he was a loathesome thing in her eyes. But that it was

pure happiness just to be near her, sufficed him for the time; of the morrow, what use to think! The little,

grim, gray, old man of Torn nursed the spleen he did not dare vent openly, and cursed the chance that had

sent Henry de Montfort to Torn to search for his sister; while the fol lowers of the outlaw swore quietly over

the vagary which had brought them on this long ride without either fighting or loot.

Bertrade de Montfort was but filled with wonder that she should owe her life and honor to this fierce, wild

cutthroat who had sworn especial hatred against her family, because of its relationship to the house of

Plantagenet. She could not fathom it, and yet, he seemed fair spoken for so rough a man; she wondered what

Once the outlaw took his cloak from its fastenings at his saddle's cantel and threw it about the shoulders of

the girl, for the night air was chilly, and again he dis mounted and led her palfrey around a bad place in the

She thanked him in her courtly manner for these services, but beyond that no word passed between them, and

they came, in silence, about midday within sight of the castle of Simon de Montfort.

The watch upon the tower was thrown into confusion by the approach of so large a party of armed men, so

that, by the time they were in hailing distance, the walls of the great structure were crowded with fighting

Shandy rode ahead with a flag of truce, and when he was beneath the castle walls Simon de Montfort called

"It is Norman of Torn, come in peace, and in the service of a De Montfort," replied Shandy. "He would enter

"Dares Norman of Torn enter the castle of Simon de Montfortthinks he that I keep a robbers' roost!" cried

"Norman of Torn dares ride where he will in all Eng land," boasted the red giant. "Will you see him in

"Let him enter," said De Montfort, "but no knavery, now, we are a thousand men here, well armed and ready

Shandy returned to his master with the reply, and together Norman of Torn and Bertrade de Montfort

clattered across the drawbridge beneath the portcullis of the castle of the Earl of Leicester, brotherinlaw of

The girl was still wrapped in the great cloak of her protector, for it had been raining, so that she rode beneath

the eyes of her father's men without being rec ognized. In the courtyard they were met by Simon de

The girl threw herself impetuously from her mount, and, flinging aside the outlaw's cloak, rushed toward her

"What means this," cried De Montfort, "has the ras cal offered you harm or indignity?"

"You craven liar," cried Henry de Montfort, "but yes terday you swore upon your honor that you did not

hold my sister, and I, like a fool, believed." And with his words the young man flung himself upon Norman

Quicker than the eye could see, the sword of the visored knight flew from its scabbard, and, with a single

lightninglike move, sent the blade of young De Montfort hurtling cross the courtyard; and then before either

could take another step, Bertrade de Montfort had sprung between them and placing a hand upon the

breastplate of the outlaw stretched forth the other with palm outturned toward her kinsmen as though to

"Be he outlaw or devil," she cried, "he is a brave and courteous knight, and he deserves from the hands of the

De Montforts the best hospitality they can give, and not cold steel and insults." Then she explained briefly to

Henry de Montfort, with the fine chivalry that marked him, was the first to step forward with outstretched

hand to thank Norman of Torn, and to ask his pardon for his rude words and hostile act.

"Let the De Montforts think well ere they take the hand of Norman of Torn. I give not my hand except in

friendship, and not for a passing moment; but for life. I appreciate your present feelings of gratitude, but let

them not blind you to the fact that I am still Norman the Devil, and that you have seen my mark upon the

brows of your dead. I would gladly have your friendship, but I wish it for the man, Norman of Torn, with all

"You are right, sir," said the Earl, "you have our gratitude and our thanks for the service you have ren dered

the house of Montfort, and ever during our lives you may command our favors. I admire your bravery and

your candor, but while you continue the Outlaw of Torn you may not break bread at the table of De Montfort

"Your speech is that of a wise and careful man," said Norman of Torn quietly. "I go, but remember that from

this day I have no quarrel with the House of Simon de Montfort, and that should you need my arms they are

at your service, a thousand strong. Goodbye." But as he turned to go, Bertrade de Montfort confronted him

"You must take my hand in friendship," she said, "for to my dying day I must ever bless the name of Norman

He took the little fingers in his mailed hand, and bending upon one knee raised them to his lips.

"To no otherwoman, man, king, God, or devil has Norman of Torn bent the knee. If ever you need him,

And turning he mounted and rode in silence from the courtyard of the castle of Leicester. Without a back

ward glance, and with his five hundred men at his back, Norman of Torn disappeared beyond a turning in the

"A strange man," said Simon de Montfort, "both good and bad, but from today I shall ever believe more good

than bad. Would that he were other than he be for his arm would wield a heavy sword against the ene mies

"Who knows," said Henry de Montfort, "but that an offer of friendship might have won him to a better life. It

seemed that in his speech was a note of wistfulness. I wish, father, that we had taken his hand."

SEVERAL days after Norman of Torn's visit to the castle of Leicester, a young knight appeared before the

Earl's gates demanding admittance to have speech with Simon de Montfort. The Earl received him, and as the

young man entered his presence Simon de Montfort sprang to his feet in astonishment.

"I be no prince, My Lord," he said, "though some have said that I favor the King's son. I be Roger de Conde

whom it may have pleased your gracious daugh ter to mention. I have come to pay homage to Bertrade de

"Ah," said De Montfort, rising to greet the young knight cordially, "an you be that Roger de Conde who

rescued my daughter from the fellows of Peter of Col fax, the arms of the De Montforts are open to you.

"Bertrade has had your name upon her tongue many times since her return. She will be glad indeed to re

ceive you, as is her father. She has told us of your valiant espousal of her cause, and the thanks of her

"She also told us of your strange likeness to Prince Edward, but until I saw you I could not believe two men

could be born of different mothers and yet be so identical. Come, we will seek out my daughter and her

De Montfort led the young man to a small chamber where they were greeted by Princess Eleanor, his wife,

and by Bertrade de Montfort. The girl was frankly glad to see him once more and laughingly chid him

because he had allowed another to usurp his prerogative and rescue her from Peter of Colfax.

"And to think," she cried, "that it should have been Norman of Torn who fulfilled your duties for you. But he

did not capture Sir Peter's head, my friend; that is still at large to be brought to me upon a golden dish."

"I have not forgotten, Lady Bertrade," said Roger de Conde. "Peter of Colfax will return."

"The very words of the Outlaw of Torn," she said. "How many men be ye, Roger de Conde? With raised

visor you could pass in the King's court for the King's son; and in manner, and form, and swordsmanship, and

"He has done me a great service, and I be under monstrous obligations to him, but he be, nathless, the Outlaw

"A most unbridgeable gulf indeed," commented Rog er de Conde, drily. "Not even gratitude could lead a

"He has my friendship, always," said the girl, "but I doubt me if Norman of Torn be the man to impose upon

"One can never tell," said Roger de Conde, "what manner of fool a man may be. When a man's head be filled

"Soon thou wilt be a courtier, if thou keep long at this turning of pretty compliments," said the girl coldly;

"If I turned a compliment I did not know it," he said. "What I think, I say. It may not be a courtly speech or it

may. I know nothing of courts and care less, but be it man or maid to whom I speak, I say what is in my mind

or I say nothing. I did not in so many words say that you are beautiful, but I think it never theless, and ye

cannot be angry with my poor eyes if they deceive me into believing that no fairer woman breathes the air of

England. Nor can you chide my sinful brain that it gladly believes what mine eyes tell it. No, you may not be

Bertrade de Montfort did not know how to answer so ridiculous a sophistry; and, truth to tell, she was more

than pleased to hear from the lips of Roger de Conde what bored her on the tongues of other men.

De Conde was the guest of the Earl of Leicester for several days, and before his visit was terminated the

young man had so won his way into the good graces of the family that they were loath to see him leave.

Although denied the society of such as these through out his entire life, yet it seemed that he fell as naturally

into the ways of their kind as though he had always been among them. His starved soul, groping through the

darkness of the empty past, yearned toward the feasting and the light of friendship, and urged him to turn his

back upon the old life, and remain ever with these people, for Simon de Montfort had offered the young man

"Why refused you the offer of my father?" said Ber trade to him as he was come to bid her farewell. "Simon

de Montfort is as great a man in England as the King himself, and your future were assured did you attach

your self to his person. But what am I saying! Did Roger de Conde not wish to be elsewhere he had accepted,

and as he did not accept it is proof positive that he does not wish to bide among the De Montforts."

"I would give my soul to the devil," said Norman of Torn, "would it buy me the right to remain ever at the

He raised her hand to his lips in farewell as he started to speak, but somethingwas it an almost im

perceptible pressure of her little fingers, a quickening of her breath or a swaying of her body toward him?

For an instant they stood thus, the eyes of the man sinking deep into the eyes of the maid, and then hers

closed and with a little sigh that was half gasp she swayed toward him, and the Devil of Torn folded the

King's niece in his mighty arms and his lips placed the seal of a great love upon those that were upturned to

"Ah, Bertrade, my Bertrade," he cried, "what is this thing that I have done! Forgive me, and let the great

She looked up into his face in surprise, and then placing her strong white hands upon his shoulders, she

"See, Roger, I am not angry. It is not wrong that we love; tell me it is not, Roger."

"You must not say that you love me, Bertrade. I am a coward, a craven poltroon; but, God, how I love you."

"Stop," he cried, "not yet, not yet. Do not say it till I come again. You know nothing of me, you do not know

even who I be; but when next I come I promise that ye shall know as much of me as I myself know, and then,

Bertrade, my Bertrade, if you can then say, 'I love you' no power on earth, or in heaven above, or hell below

"I will wait, Roger, for I believe in you and trust you. I do not understand, but I know that you must have

some good reason, though it all seems very strange to me. If I, a De Montfort, am willing to acknowledge my

love for any man there can be no reason why I should not do so, unless," and she started at the sudden

"There is no other woman, Bertrade," said Norman of Torn. "I have no wife; nor within the limits of my

memory have my lips ever before touched the lips of another, for I do not remember my mother."

"It is some old woman's bugaboo that you are haling out of a dark corner of your imagination to frighten

yourself with. I do not fear, since I know that you must be all good. There be no line of vice or deception

upon your face and you are very brave. So brave and noble a man, Roger, has a heart of pure gold."

"Don't," he said, bitterly. "I cannot endure it. Wait until I come again and then, oh my flower of all Eng

land, if you have it in your heart to speak as you are speaking now the sun of my happiness will be at zenith.

Then, but not before, shall I speak to the Earl, thy father. Farewell, Bertrade, in a few days I return."

"If you would speak to the Earl on such a subject, you insolent young puppy, you may save your breath,"

thundered an angry voice, and Simon de Montfort strode, scowling, into the room.

The girl paled, but not from fear of her father, for the fighting blood of the De Montforts was as strong in her

as in her sire. She faced him with as brave and resolute a face as did the young man, who turned slowly,

"I heard enough of your words as I was passing through the corridor," continued the latter, "to readily guess

what had gone before. So it is for this that you have wormed your sneaking way into my home? And thought

you that Simon de Montfort would throw his daughter at the head of the first passing rogue? Who be ye, but a

nameless rascal? For aught we know some low born lackey. Get ye hence, and be only thankful that I do not

"Stop!" cried the girl. "Stop, father, hast forgot that but for Roger de Conde ye might have seen your daughter

"I do not forget," replied the Earl, "and it is because I remember, that my sword remains in its scabbard. The

fellow has been amply repaid by the friendship of De Montfort, but now this act of perfidy has wiped clean

the score. An' you would go in peace, sirrah, go quickly, ere I lose my temper."

"There has been some misunderstanding on your part, My Lord," spoke Norman of Torn, quietly and without

apparent anger or excitement. "Your daughter has not told me that she loves me, nor did I contem plate

asking you for her hand. When next I come, first shall I see her and if she will have me, My Lord, I shall

come to you to tell you that I shall wed her. Norm Roger de Conde asks permission of no man to do what

Simon de Montfort was fairly bursting with rage but he managed to control himself to say,

"My daughter weds whom I select, and even now I have practically closed negotiations for her betrothal to

Prince Philip, nephew of King Louis of France. And as for you, sir, I would as lief see her the wife of the

Outlaw of Torn. He at least has wealth and power, and a name that be known outside his own armor. But

enough of this; get you gone, nor let me see your face again within the walls of Leicester's castle."

"You are right, My Lord, it were foolish and idle for us to be quarreling with words," said the outlaw.

"Farewell, My Lady. I shall return as I promised, and your word shall be law." And with a profound bow to

De Montfort, Norman of Torn left the apartment, and in a few minutes was riding through the courtyard of

As he passed beneath a window in the castle wall a voice called to him from above, and drawing in his horse,

"Take this, Roger de Conde," she whispered, drop ping a tiny parcel to him, "and wear it ever, for my sake.

We may never meet again, for the Earl my father, is a mighty man, not easily turned from his decisions;

therefore I shall say to you, Roger de Conde, what you forbid my saying, I love you, and be ye prince or

"Wait, my lady, until I return, then shall you decide, and if ye be of the same mind as today, never fear but

that I shall take ye. Again, farewell." And with a brave smile that hid a sad heart, Norman of Torn passed out

When he undid the parcel which Bertrade had tossed to him he found that it contained a beautifully wrought

The Outlaw of Torn raised the little circlet to his lips, and then slipped it upon the third finger of his left hand.

NORMAN of Torn did not return to the castle of Leicester "in a few days," nor for many months. For news

came to him that Bertrade de Montfort had been posted off to France in charge of her mother.

From now on the forces of Torn were employed in repeated attacks on royalist barons, encroaching ever and

ever southward until even Berkshire and Surrey and Sussex felt the weight of the iron hand of the outlaw.

Nearly a year had elapsed since that day when he had held the fair form of Bertrade de Montfort in his arms,

He would have followed her to France but for the fact that, after he had parted from her and the intoxi cation

of her immediate presence had left his brain clear to think rationally, he had realized the futility of his hopes,

and he had seen that the pressing of his suit could mean only suffering and mortification for the woman he

His better judgment told him that she, on her part, when freed from the subtle spell woven by the near ness

and the newness of a first love would doubtless be glad to forget the words she had spoken in the heat of a

divine passion. He would wait, then, until fate threw them together, and should that ever chance, while she

was still free, he would let her know that Roger de Conde and the Outlaw of Torn were one and the same.

If she wants me then, he thought, but she will not, no it is impossible. It is better that she marry her French

prince than to live, dishonored, the wife of a common highwayman; for though she might love me at first, the

As the outlaw was sitting one day in the little cottage of Father Claude, the priest reverted to the subject of

many past conversations; the unsettled state of civil conditions in the realm, and the stand which Norman of

"It would seem that Henry," said the priest, "by his continued breaches of both the spirit and letter of the

Oxford Statutes is but urging the barons to resort to arms; and the fact that he virtually forced Prince Ed

ward to take up arms against Humphrey de Bohun last fall, and to carry the ravages of war throughout the

Welsh border provinces, convinces me that he be by this time well equipped to resist De Montfort and his

"If that be the case," said Norman of Torn, "we shall have war and fighting in real earnest ere many months."

"And under which standard does My Lord Norman expect to fight?" asked Father Claude.

"Thou be indeed a closemouthed man, my son," said the priest, smiling. "Such an attribute helpeth make a

great statesman. With thy soldierly qualities in addi tion, my dear boy, there be a great future for thee in the

"Yes, father, well; and often have I thought on't. I have one more duty to perform here in England and then it

"That wheresoere I go thou must go also. Thou be my best friend; in truth, my father; none other have I ever

known, for the little old man of Torn, even though I be the product of his loins, which I much mistrust, be no

The priest sat looking intently at the young man for many minutes before he spoke.

Without the cottage a swarthy figure skulked be neath one of the windows, listening to such fragments of

the conversation within as came to his attentive ears. It was Spizo the Spaniard. He crouched entirely con

cealed by a great lilac bush, which many times before had hid his traitorous form.

"Norman of Torn," he said, "so long as thou remain in England, pitting thy great host against the Plantage

net King and the nobles and barons of his realm, thou be but serving as the catspaw of another. Thyself hast

said an hundred times that thou knowst not the reason for thy hatred against them. Thou be too strong a man

"There be that of which I dare not speak to thee yet and only may I guess and dream of what I think, nor do I

know whether I must hope that it be false or true, but now, if ever, the time hath come for the question to be

settled. Thou hast not told me in so many words, but I be an old man and versed in reading true between the

lines, and so I know that thou lovest Bertrade de Montfort. Nay, do not deny it. And now what I would say be

this. In all England there lives no more honorable man than Simon de Montfort, nor none who could more

truly decide upon thy future and thy past. Thou may not understand of what I hint, but thou know that thou

"Then promise me that with the old man of Torn alone thou wilt come hither when I bidst thee and meet

Simon de Montfort, and abide by his decision should my surmises concerning thee be correct. He will be the

"It shall be by the third day, or not at all," replied Father Claude, and Norman of Torn rising to leave

wondered at the moving leaves of the lilac bush with out the window, for there was no breeze.

Spizo the Spaniard reached Torn several minutes before the outlaw chief and had already poured his tale into

"The fool priest will upset the whole work to which I have devoted near twenty years," he muttered, "if I find

not the means to quiet his halfwit tongue. Be tween priest and petticoat it be all but ruined now. Well then,

so much the sooner must I act, and I know not but that now be as good a time as any. If we come near enough

to the King's men on this trip south, the gibbet shall have its own and a Plantagenet dog shall taste the fruits

of his own tyranny," then glancing up and realizing that Spizo the Spaniard had been a listen er, the old

An hour later the old man of Torn dismounted be fore the cottage of Father Claude and entered.

"Priest," cried the old man, coming immediately to the point, "Norman of Torn tells me that thou wish him

and me and Leicester to meet here. I know not what thy purpose may be, but for the boy's sake carry not out

thy design as yet. I may not tell thee my rea sons, but it be best that this meeting take place after we return

The old man had never spoken so fairly to Father Claude before, and so the latter was quite deceived and

A few days after, in the summer of 1263, Norman of Torn rode at the head of his army of outlaws through the

county of Essex, down toward London town. One thousand fighting men there were, with squires and other

servants, and five hundred sumpter beasts to transport their tents and other impedimenta, and bring back the

But a small force of ailing menatarms, and servants had been left to guard the castle of Torn under the able

At the column's head rode Norman of Torn and the little grim, gray, old man; and behind them nine com

panies of knights, followed by the catapult detachment; then came the sumpter beasts. Horsan the Dane, with

his company, formed the rear guard. Three hun dred yards in advance of the column rode ten men to guard

The pennons, and the banners and the bugles; and the loud rattling of sword, and lance and armor and

ironshod hoof carried to the eye and ear ample assur ance that this great cavalcade of iron men was bent

All his captains rode today with Norman of Torn. Beside those whom we have met there was Don Piedro

Castro y Pensilo of Spain; Baron of Cobarth of Germany, and Sir John Mandecote of England. Like their

leader, each of these fierce warriors carried a great price upon his head, and the story of the life of any one

would fill a large volume with romance, war, intrigue, treach ery, bravery and death.

Toward noon one day in the midst of a beautiful valley of Essex they came upon a party of ten knights

escorting two young women. The meeting was at a turn in the road, so that the two parties were upon each

other before the ten knights had an opportunity to escape with their fair wards.

"What the devil be this," cried one of the knights, as the main body of the outlaw horde came into view, "the

The faces of the knights blanched, for they were ten against a thousand, and there were two women with

"I am Richard de Tany of Essex," said the oldest knight, he who had first spoken, "and these be my daughter

and her friend, Mary de Stutevill. We are upon our way from London to my castle. What would you of us?

Name your price, if it can be paid with honor it shall be paid; only let us go our way in peace. We cannot

hope to resist the Devil of Torn, for we be but ten lances. If ye must have blood, at least let the women go

"My Lady Mary is an old friend," said the outlaw. "I called at her father's home but little more than a year

since. We are neighbors, and the lady can tell you that women are safer at the hands of Norman of Torn than

"Right he is," spoke up Lady Mary, "Norman of Torn accorded my mother, my sister, and myself the utmost

respect; though I cannot say as much for his treatment of my father," she added, half smiling.

The next day a young man hailed the watch upon the walls of the castle of Richard de Tany telling him to

bear word to Joan de Tany that Roger de Conde, a friend of her guest Lady Mary de Stutevill, was without.

In a few moments the great drawbridge sank slowly into place and Norman of Torn trotted into the court

He was escorted to an apartment where Mary de Stutevill and Joan de Tany were waiting to receive him.

Mary de Stutevill greeted him as an old friend, and the daughter of de Tany was no less cordial in wel

"Are all your old friends and neighbors come after you to Essex," cried Joan de Tany, laughingly, address

ing Mary. "Today it is Roger de Conde, yesterday it was the Outlaw of Torn. Methinks Derby will soon be

"I rather think it be for news of another that we owe this visit from Roger de Conde," said Mary, smiling.

"For I have heard tales, and I see a great ring upon the gentleman's handa ring which I have seen before."

Norman of Torn made no attempt to deny the reason for his visit, but asked bluntly if she heard aught of

"Thrice within the year have I received missives from her," replied Mary. "In the first two she spoke only of

Roger de Conde, wondering why he did not come to France after her; but in the last she mentions not his

Both girls were watching the countenance of Roger de Conde narrowly, but no sign of the sorrow which

"I guess it be better so," he said quietly. "The daugh ter of a De Montfort could scarcely be happy with a

"You wrong her, my friend," said Mary de Stutevill, she loved you,and unless I know not the friend of my

childhood as well as I know myself, she loves you yet; but Bertrade de Montfort is a proud woman and what

can you expect when she hears no word from you for a year? Thought you that she would seek you out and

"You do not understand," he answered, "and I may not tell you; but I ask that you believe me when I say that

it was for her own peace of mind, for her own happiness, that I did not follow her to France. But let us talk of

other things; the sorrow is mine and I would not force it upon others. I cared only to know that she is well,

and, I hope, happy. It will never be given to me to make her or any other woman so. I would that I had never

come into her life, but I did not know what I was doing; and the spell of her beauty and goodness was strong

upon me, so that I was weak and could not resist what I had never known before in all my life love."

"You could not well be blamed," said Joan de Tany, generously. "Bertrade de Montfort is all and even more

As she spoke, Norman of Torn looked upon her criti cally for the first time, and he saw that Joan de Tany

was beautiful, and that when she spoke her face lighted with a hundred little changing expressions of intelli

gence and character that cast a spell of fascination about her. Yes, Joan de Tany was good to look upon, and

Norman of Torn carried a wounded heart in his breast that longed for surcease from its sufferingsfor a

And so it came to pass that for many days the Outlaw of Torn was a daily visitor at the castle of Richard de

Tany, and the acquaintance between the man and the two girls ripened into a deep friendship, and with one of

Norman of Torn, in his ignorance of the ways of women, saw only friendship in the little acts of Joan de

Tany. His life had been a hard and lonely one. The only ray of brilliant and warming sunshine that had

His every thought was loyal to the woman whom he knew was not for him, but he longed for the compan

ionship of his own kind and so welcomed the friendship of such as Joan de Tany and her fair guest. He did

not dream that either looked upon him with any warmer sentiment than the sweet friendliness which was as

new to him as lovehow could he mark the line between or foresee the terrible price of his ignorance!

Mary de Stutevill saw and she thought the man but fickle and shallow in matters of the heartmany there

were, she knew, who were thus. She might have warned him had she known the truth, but instead she let

"Be careful of thy heart, Joan," she said, "lest it be getting away from thee into the keeping of one who seems

"I am quite capable of safeguarding my own heart, Mary de Stutevill," she replied warmly. "If thou covet this

man thyself, why, but say sodo not think though that because thy heart glows in his presence mine is

It was Mary's turn now to show offense, and a sharp retort was on her tongue when suddenly she realized the

folly of such a useless quarrel. Instead she put her arms about Joan and kissed her.

"I do not love him," she said, "and I be glad that you do not, for I know that Bertrade does, and that but a

short year since he swore undying love for her. Let us forget that we have spoken on the subject."

It was at this time that the King's soldiers were har assing the lands of the rebel barons, and taking a heavy

toll in revenge for their stinging defeat at Rochester earlier in the year, so that it was scarcely safe for small

parties to venture upon the roadways lest they fall into the hands of the mercenaries of Henry III.

Not even were the wives and daughters of the barons exempt from the attacks of the royalists; and it was no

uncommon occurrence to find them suffering imprison ment, and something worse, at the hands of the

And in the midst of these alarms it entered the will ful head of Joan de Tany that she wished to ride to

While London itself was solidly for the barons and against the King's party, the road between the castle of

"Why," cried the girl's mother in exasperation, "be tween robbers and royalists and the Outlaw of Torn you

"But then, as I have no army," retorted the laughing girl, "if you reason by your own logic, I shall be indeed

And when Roger de Conde attempted to dissuade her, she taunted him with being afraid of meeting with the

Devil of Torn, and told him that he might remain at home and lock himself safely in her mother's pantry.

And so, as Joan de Tany was a spoiled child, they set out upon the road to London; the two girls with a dozen

At the same time a grim, gray, old man dispatched a messenger from the outlaw's camp; a swarthy fellow,

disguised as a priest, whose orders were to proceed to London, and when he saw the party of Joan de Tany,

with Roger de Conde, enter the city he was to deliver the letter he bore to the captain of the gate.

All went well and Joan was laughing merrily at the fears of those who had attempted to dissuade her when, at

a cross road, they discovered two parties of armed men approaching from opposite directions. The leader of

the nearer party spurred forward to intercept the little band, and, reining in before them, cried brusque ly,

"A party on a peaceful mission to the shops of Lon don," replied Norman of Torn.

"I asked not your mission," cried the fellow. "I asked, who be ye? Answer, and be quick about it."

"I be Roger de Conde, gentleman of France, and these be my sisters and servants," lied the outlaw, "and were

it not that the ladies be with me your answer would be couched in steel, as you deserve for your boorish

"There be plenty of room and time for that even now, you dog of a French coward," cried the officer,

Joan de Tany was sitting her horse where she could see the face of Roger de Conde, and it filled her heart

with pride and courage as she saw and understood the little smile of satisfaction that touched his lips as he

Wheeling their horses toward one another the two combatants, who were some ninety feet apart, charged at

full tilt. As they came together the impact was so great that both horses were nearly overturned and the two

powerful war lances were splintered into a hundred fragments as each struck the exact center of his oppo

nent's shield. Then, wheeling their horses and throwing away the butts of their now useless lances, De Conde

The fellow made a most vicious return assault upon De Conde, attempting to ride him down in one mad rush,

but his thrust passed harmlessly from the tip of the outlaw's sword, and as the officer wheeled back to renew

the battle they settled down to fierce combat, their horses wheeling and turning shoulder to shoulder.

The two girls sat rigid in their saddles watching the encounter, the eyes of Joan de Tany alight with the fire of

battle as she followed every move of the won drous sword play of Roger de Conde.

He had not even taken the precaution to lower his visor, and the grim and haughty smile that played upon his

lips spoke louder than many words the utter con tempt in which he held the sword of his adversary. And as

Joan de Tany watched she saw the smile suddenly freeze to a cold, hard line, and the eyes of the man narrow

to mere slits, and her woman's intuition read the death warrant of the King's officer ere the sword of the

The other members of the two bodies of royalist soldiers had sat spellbound as they watched the battle, but

now, as their leader's corpse rolled from the saddle they spurred furiously in upon De Conde and his little

The Baron's men put up a noble fight, but the odds were heavy and even with the mighty arm of Norman of

Five swords were flashing about the outlaw, but his blade was equal to the thrust and one after another of his

assailants crumpled up in their saddles as his leap ing point found their vitals.

Nearly all of the Baron's men were down, when one, an old servitor, spurred to the side of Joan de Tany and

"Come, my ladies," he cried, "quick and you may escape. They be so busy with the battle that they will never

"Take the Lady Mary, John," cried Joan, "I brought Roger de Conde to this pass against the advice of all and

"But nothing, sirrah!" she interrupted sharply. "Do as you are bid. Follow my Lady Mary, and see that she

comes to my father's castle in safety," and raising her riding whip she struck Mary's palfrey across the rump

so that the animal nearly unseated his fair rider as he leaped frantically to one side and started madly up the

"After her, John," commanded Joan peremptorily, and see that you turn not back until she be safe with in

The old fellow had been wont to obey the imperious little Lady Joan from her earliest childhood, and the

habit was so strong upon him that he wheeled his horse and galloped after the flying palfrey of the Lady

As Joan de Tany turned again to the encounter be fore her, she saw fully twenty men surrounding Roger de

Conde, and while he was taking heavy toll of those before him he could not cope with the men who at

tacked him from behind; and even as she looked she saw a battle axe fall full upon his helm, and his sword

drop from his nerveless fingers as his lifeless body rolled from the back of Sir Mortimer to the battle

She slid quickly from her palfrey and ran fearlessly toward his prostrate form, reckless of the tangled mass of

snorting, trampling, steelclad horses, and surging fightingmen that surrounded him. And well it was for

Norman of Torn that this brave girl was there that day, for even as she reached his side the sword point of one

With a cry Joan de Tany threw herself across the outlaw's body, shielding him as best she could from the

Cursing loudly, the soldier grasped her roughly by the arm to drag her from his prey, but at this juncture a

The newcomer was a man of about fortyfive or fifty; tall, handsome, blackmustached and with the haughty

arrogance of pride most often seen upon the faces of those who have been raised by unmerited favor to

He was John de Fulm, Earl of Buckingham, a for eigner by birth and for years one of the King's favorites;

"A party of the King's enemies attacked us, My Lord Earl, but we routed them, taking these two prisoners."

"Who be ye?" he said, turning toward Joan who was kneeling beside De Conde, and as she raised her head,

"My God! The daughter of De Tany! a noble prize indeed my men. And who be the knight?"

"Look for yourself, My Lord Earl," replied the girl removing the helm, which she had been unlacing from the

"Edward?" he ejaculated. "But no, it cannot be, I did but yesterday leave Edward in Dover."

"I know not who he be," said Joan de Tany, "ex cept that he be the most marvelous fighter and the bravest

man it has ever been given me to see. He called himself Roger de Conde, but I know nothing of him other

than that he looks like a prince, and fights like a devil. I think he has no quarrel with either side, My Lord,

and so, as you certainly do not make war on women, you will let us go our way in peace as we were when

"A De Tany, madam, were a great and valuable cap ture in these troublous times," replied the Earl, "and that

alone were enough to necessitate my keeping you; but a beautiful De Tany is yet a different matter and so I

will grant you at least one favor, I will not take you to the King, but a prisoner you shall be in mine own

castle for I am alone, and need the cheering com pany of a fair and loving lady."

"Think you, John de Fulm, Earl of Buckingham, that you be talking to some comely scullery maid? Do you

forget that my house is honored in England, even though it does not share the King's favors with his foreign

"All be fair in war, my beauty," replied the Earl. "Egad," he continued, "methinks all would be fair in hell

were they like unto you. It has been some years since I have seen you and I did not know the old fox Richard

"Let us not put it thus harshly," countered the Earl. "Rather let us say that it be so late in the day, and the way

so beset with dangers that the Earl of Buckingham could not bring himself to expose the beautiful daugh ter

"Let us have an end to such foolishness," cried the girl. "I might have expected naught better from a turn

coat foreign knave such as thee, who once joined in the councils of De Montfort, and then betrayed his

The Earl paled with rage, and pressed forward as though to strike the girl, but thinking better of it, he turned

"Bring the prisoner with you. If the man lives bring him also. I would learn more of this fellow who mas

And turning, he spurred on towards the neighboring castle of a rebel baron which had been captured by the

WHEN Norman of Torn regained his senses he found himself in a small tower room in a strange castle. His

head ached horribly, and he felt sick and sore; but he managed to crawl from the cot on which he lay, and by

steadying his swaying body with hands pressed against the wall he was able to reach the door. To his

disappointment he found this locked from without, and in his weakened condition he made no attempt to

He was fully dressed and in armor, as he had been when struck down, but his helmet was gone, as were also

The day was drawing to a close, and as dusk fell and the room darkened he became more and more impatient.

Repeated pounding upon the door brought no response and finally he gave up in despair. Going to the

window he saw that his room was some thirty feet above the stoneflagged courtyard, and also that it looked

at an angle upon other windows in the old castle where lights were beginning to show. He saw menatarms

moving about, and once he thought he caught a glimpse of a woman's figure, but he was not sure.

He wondered what had become of Joan de Tany and Mary de Stutevill. He hoped that they had escaped, and

yetno, Joan certainly had not, for now he dis tinctly remembered that his eyes had met hers for an instant

just before the blow fell upon him, and he thought of the faith and confidence that he had read in that quick

glance. Such a look would nerve a jackal to attack a drove of lions, thought the outlaw. What a beautiful

creature she was; and she had stayed there with him during the fight. He remembered now; Mary de Stutevill

had not been with her as he had caught that glimpse of her, no, she had been all alone. Ah! That was

What else was it that tried to force its way above the threshold of his bruised and wavering memory? Words?

Words of love? And lips pressed to his? No, it must be but a figment of his wounded brain.

What was that which clicked against his breastplate? He felt, and found a metal bauble linked to a mesh of his

steel armor by a strand of silken hair. He carried the little thing to the window, and in the waning light made

it out to be a golden hair ornament set with precious stones, but he could not tell if the little strand of silken

hair were black or brown. Carefully he de tached the little thing, and, winding the filmy tress about it,

placed it within the breast of his tunic. He was vaguely troubled by it, yet why he could scarcely have told,

Again turning to the window he watched the lighted rooms within his vision, and presently his view was

rewarded by the sight of a knight coming within the scope of the narrow casement of a nearby chamber.

From his apparel he was a man of position, and he was evidently in heated discussion with some one whom

Norman of Torn could not see. The man, a great, tall blackhaired and mustached nobleman, was pound ing

upon a table to emphasize his words, and presently he sprang up as though rushing toward the one to whom

he had been speaking. He disappeared from the watcher's view for a moment and then, at the far side of the

apartment, Norman of Torn saw him again just as he roughly grasped the figure of a woman who evidently

was attempting to escape him. As she turned to face her tormentor all the devil in the Devil of Torn surged in

With a muttered oath the imprisoned man turned to hurl himself against the bolted door, but ere he had taken

a single step the sound of heavy feet without brought him to a stop, and the jingle of keys as one was fitted to

the lock of the door sent him gliding stealthily to the wall beside the doorway, where the inswinging door

As the door was pushed back a flickering torch lighted up, but dimly, the interior, so that until he had reached

He was a manatarms, and at his side hung a sword. That was enough for the Devil of Tornit was a

sword he craved most; and, ere the fellow could assure his slow wits that the cot was empty, steel fingers

Without other sound than the scuffing of their bodies on the floor, and the clanking of their armor, they

fought, the one to reach the dagger at his side, the other to close forever the windpipe of his adversary.

Presently the manatarms found what he sought, and, after tugging with ever diminishing strength, he felt

the blade slip from its sheath. Slowly and feebly he raised it high above the back of the man on top of him;

with a last supreme effort he drove the point downward, but ere it reached its goal there was a sharp snapping

sound as of a broken bone, the dagger fell harmlessly from his dead hand, and his head rolled backward upon

Snatching the sword from the body of his dead an tagonist, Norman of Torn rushed from the tower room.

As John de Fulm, Earl of Buckingham, laid his vandal hands upon Joan de Tany she turned upon him like a

tigress. Blow after blow she rained upon his head and face until, in mortification and rage, he struck her full

upon the mouth with his clenched fist; but even this did not subdue her and with ever weakening strength, she

continued to strike him. And then the great royal ist Earl, the chosen friend of the King, took the fair white

throat between his great fingers, and the lust of blood supplanted the lust of love, for he would have killed her

It was upon this scene that the Outlaw of Torn burst with naked sword. They were at the far end of the

apartment, and his cry of anger at the sight caused the Earl to drop his prey, and turn with drawn sword to

There were no words, for there was no need of words here. The two men were upon each other, and fighting

to the death, before the girl had regained her feet. It would have been short shrift for John de Fulm had not

Four of them there were, and they tumbled pellmell into the room, fairly falling upon Norman of Torn in

their anxiety to get their swords into him; but once they met that master hand they went more slowly, and in a

moment two of them went no more at all, and the others, with the Earl, were but circling warily in search of a

Norman of Torn stood with his back against a table in an angle of the room, and behind him stood Joan de

"Move toward the left," she whispered. "I know this old pile. When you reach the table that bears the lamp

there will be a small doorway directly behind you, strike the lamp out with your sword, as you feel my hand

in your left, and then I will lead you through that doorway, which you must turn and quickly bolt after us. Do

Slowly he worked his way toward the table, the men atarms in the meantime keeping up an infernal howl

ing for help. The Earl was careful to keep out of reach of the point of De Conde's sword, and the

Just as he reached his goal a dozen more men burst into the room, and emboldened by this reinforcement one

of the men engaging De Conde came too close. As he jerked his blade from the fellow's throat, Norman of

Torn felt a firm, warm hand slipped into his from behind, and his sword swung with a resounding blow

As darkness enveloped the chamber Joan de Tany led him through the little door, which he immediately

"This way," she whispered, again slipping her hand into his and in silence she led him through several dim

Here the girl felt with swift fingers the edge of the molding; more and more rapidly she moved as the sound

"Mon Dieu!" she cried. "Can I be wrong! Surely this is the room. Oh, my friend, that I should have brought

you to all this by my willfulness and vanity; and now when I might save you my wits leave me and I forget

"Do not worry about me," laughed the Devil of Torn. "Methought that it was I who was trying to save you,

and may heaven forgive me else, for surely that be my only excuse for running away from a handful of

swords. I could not take chances when thou wert at stake, Joan," he added more gravely.

The sound of pursuit was now quite close, in fact the reflection from flickering torches could be seen in

At last the girl, with a little cry of "stupid," seized De Conde and rushed him to the far side of the room.

"Here it is," she whispered joyously, "here it has been all the time." Running her fingers along the mold ing

until she found a little hidden spring she pushed it, and one of the great panels swung slowly in, reveal ing

Quickly the girl entered, pulling De Conde after her, and as the panel swung quietly into place the Earl of

"The devil take them," cried De Fulm. "Where can they have gone? Surely we were right behind them."

"It is passing strange, My Lord," replied one of the men. "Let us try the floor above, and the towers; for of a

surety they have not come this way." And the party retraced its steps, leaving the apartment empty.

Behind the panel the girl stood shrinking close to De Conde, her hand still in his.

"Where now?" he asked. "Or do we stay hidden here like frightened chicks until the war is over and the

"Wait," she answered, "until I quiet my nerves a little. I am all unstrung." He felt her body tremble as it

With the spirit of protection strong within him what wonder that his arm fell about her shoulder as though to

say, fear not, for I be brave and powerful; naught can harm you while I am here.

Presently she reached her hands up to his face, made brave to do it by the sheltering darkness.

"Roger," she whispered, her tongue halting over the familiar name. "I thought that they had killed you, and all

"Forgive?" he asked, smiling to himself. "Forgive being given an opportunity to fight? There be nothing to

forgive, Joan, unless it be that I should ask forgive ness for protecting thee so poorly."

"Do not say that," she commanded. "Never was such bravery or such swordsmanship in all the world before;

He did not answer. His mind was a chaos of con flicting thoughts. The feel of her hands as they had lingered

momentarily, and with a vague caress upon his cheek, and the pressure of her body as she leaned against him

sent the hot blood coursing through his veins. He was puzzled, for he had not dreamed that friendship was so

sweet. That she did not shrink from his encircling arms should have told him much, but Norman of Torn was

slow to realize that a woman might look upon him with love. Nor had he a thought of any other sentiment

And then there came to him as in a vision another fair and beautiful faceBertrade de Montfort'sand

Norman of Torn was still more puzzled; for at heart he was clean, and love of loyalty was strong within him.

Love of women was a new thing to him, and, robbed as he had been all his starved life of the affec tion and

kindly fellowship, of either men or women, it is little to be wondered at that he was easily impres sionable

and responsive to the feeling his strong per sonality had awakened in two of England's fairest daughters.

But with the vision of that other face there came to him a faint realization that mayhap it was a stronger

power than either friendship or fear which caused that lithe, warm body to cling so tightly to him. That the

responsibility for the critical stage their young acquaint ance had so quickly reached was not his had never

for a moment entered his head. To him the fault was all his; and perhaps it was this quality of chivalry that

was the finest of the many noble characteristics of his sterling character. So his next words were typical of the

man; and did Joan de Tany love him, or did she not, she learned that night to respect and trust him as she

"My Lady," said Norman of Torn, "we have been through much, and we are as little children in a dark attic,

and so if I have presumed upon our acquaintance," and he lowered his arm from about her shoulder, "I ask

you to forgive it for I scarce know what to do, from weakness and from the pain of the blow upon my head."

Joan de Tany drew slowly away from him, and with out reply took his hand and led him forward through a

He held her hand pressed very tightly in his, tighter perhaps than conditions required, but she let it lie there as

Norman of Torn wondered if she were angry with him and then, being new at love, he blundered.

"You be silent, and I fear that you be angry with me. Tell me that you forgive what I have done, an it

offended you. I have so few friends," he added sadly, "that I cannot afford to lose such as you."

"You will never lose the friendship of Joan de Tany," she answered. "You have won her respect

andand" But she could not say it and so she trailed off lamely "and undying gratitude."

But Norman of Torn knew the word that she would have spoken had he dared to let her. He did not, for there

was always the vision of Bertrade de Montfort before him; and now another vision arose that would

effectually have sealed his lips had not the otherhe saw the Outlaw of Torn dangling by his neck from a

Before, he had only feared that Joan de Tany loved him, now he knew it, and while he marvelled that so

wondrous a creature could feel love for him, again he blamed himself, and felt sorrow for them both; for he

did not return her love nor could he imagine a love strong enough to survive the knowledge that it was

Presently they reached the bottom of the stairway, and Joan de Tany led him, gropingly, across what seemed,

from their echoing footsteps, a large chamber. The air was chill and dank, smelling of mold, and no ray of

"This be the castle's crypt," whispered Joan; "and they do say that strange happenings occur here in the still

watches of the night, and that when the castle sleeps the castle's dead rise from their coffins and shake their

"Sh! what was that?" as a rustling noise broke upon their ears close upon their right; and then there came a

"There is nothing to fear, Joan," reassured Norman of Torn. "Dead men wield not swords, nor do they move,

"I am afraid," she whispered. "If you can make a light I am sure you will find an old lamp here in the crypt,

and then will it be less fearsome. As a child I visited this castle often, and in search of adventure we passed

Norman of Torn did as she bid, and finding the lamp, lighted it. The chamber was quite empty save for the

coffins in their niches, and some effigies in marble set at intervals about the walls.

"No place would seem fearsome now," she answered simply, "were there a light to show me that the brave

"Hush, child," replied the outlaw. "You know not what you say. When you know me better you will be sorry

for your words, for Roger de Conde is not what you think him. So say no more of praise until we be out of

The fright of the noises in the dark chamber had but served to again bring the girl's face close to his so that he

felt her hot, sweet breath upon his cheek, and thus another link was forged to bind him to her.

With the aid of the lamp they made more rapid progress, and in a few moments reached a low door at the end

"This is the doorway which opens upon the ravine below the castle. We have passed beneath the walls and

"Let us get out of this place, and as far away as possible under the cover of darkness, and I doubt not I may

Putting out the light, lest it should attract the notice of the watch upon the castle walls, Norman of Torn

The ravine was so overgrown with tangled vines and wildwood that had there ever been a pathway it was

now completely obliterated; and it was with difficulty that the man forced his way through the entangling

creepers and tendrils. The girl stumbled after him and twice fell before they had taken a score of steps.

"I fear I am not strong enough," she said finally. "The way is much more difficult than I had thought."

So Norman of Torn lifted her in his strong arms, and stumbled on through the darkness and the shrub bery

down the center of the ravine. It required the better part of an hour to traverse the little distance to the

roadway; and all the time her head nestled upon his shoulder and her hair brushed his cheek. Once when she

lifted her head to speak to him he bent toward her, and in the darkness, by chance, his lips brushed hers. He

felt her little form tremble in his arms, and a faint sigh breathed from her lips.

They were upon the highroad now, but he did not put her down. A mist was before his eyes, and he could

have crushed her to him and smothered those warm lips with his own. Slowly his face inclined toward hers,

closer and closer his iron muscles pressed her to him, and then, clear cut and distinct before his eyes, he saw

the corpse of the Outlaw of Torn swinging by the neck from the arm of a wooden gibbet, and beside it knelt a

woman gowned in rich cloth of gold and many jewels. Her face was averted and her arms were out stretched

toward the dangling form that swung and twisted from the grim, gaunt arm. Her figure was racked with

choking sobs of horrorstricken grief. Pres ently she staggered to her feet and turned away, bury ing her

face in her hands; but he saw her features for an instant thenthe woman who openly and alone mourned the

Slowly his arms relaxed, and gently and reverently he lowered Joan de Tany to the ground. In that in stant

Norman of Torn had learned the difference be tween friendship and love, and love and passion.

The moon was shining brightly upon them, and the girl turned, wideeyed and wondering, toward him. She

had felt the wild call of love and she could not under stand his seeming coldness now, for she had seen no

"Joan," he said, "I would but now have wronged thee. Forgive me. Forget what has passed between us until I

can come to you in my rightful colors, when the spell of the moonlight and adventure be no longer upon us,

and then,"he paused"and then I shall tell you who I be and you shall say if you still care to call me

He had not the heart to tell her that he loved only Bertrade de Montfort, but it had been a thousand times

She was about to reply when a dozen armed men sprang from the surrounding shadows, calling upon them to

surrender. The moonlight falling upon the leader revealed a great giant of a fellow with an enor mous,

"It is I, Shandy," he said. "Keep a still tongue in thy head until I speak with thee apart. Wait here, My Lady

Drawing Shandy to one side he learned that the faithful fellow had become alarmed at his chief's con tinued

absence, and had set out with a small party to search for him. They had come upon the riderless Sir Mortimer

grazing by the roadside, and a short distance beyond had discovered evidences of the conflict at the

crossroads. There they had found Norman of Torn's helmet, confirming their worst fears. A peasant in a

nearby hut had told them of the encounter, and had set them upon the road taken by the Earl and his prison

"Give us horses, and let two of the men ride behind us," said the chief. "And, Shandy, let not the lady know

They were soon mounted, and clattering down the road, back toward the castle of Richard de Tany.

Joan de Tany looked in silent wonder upon this grim force that sprang out of the shadows of the night to do

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

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

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

Together they rode into the courtyard, where all was bustle and excitement. A dozen voices asked a dozen

Richard de Tany with his family and Mary de Stute vill 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

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 cutthroats 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 thousand more lurked in the woods

Under cover of the tangled shrubbery they crawled unseen to the little door through which Joan de Tany had

led him the night before. Following the corridors and vaults beneath the castle they came to the stone

stairway, and mounted to the passage which led to the false panel that had given the two fugitives egress.

Slipping the spring lock, Norman of Torn entered the apartment followed closely by his henchmen. On they

went, through apartment after apartment, but no sign of the Earl or his servitors rewarded their search, and it

As they came forth into the courtyard they descried an old man basking in the sun, upon a bench. The sight of

them nearly caused the old fellow to die of fright, for to see fifty armed men issue from the un tenanted halls

When Norman of Torn questioned him he learned that De Fulm had ridden out early in the day bound for

Dover, where Prince Edward then was. The outlaw knew it would be futile to pursue him, but yet, so fierce

was his anger against this man, that he ordered his band to mount, and spurring to their head, he marched

through Middlesex, and crossing the Thames above London, entered Surrey late the same afternoon.

As they were going into camp that night in Kent, midway between London and Rochester, word came to

Norman of Torn that the Earl of Buckingham, having sent his escort on to Dover, had stopped to visit the

The fellow who gave this information was a servant in my lady's household who held a grudge against his

mistress for some wrong she had done him. When, therefore, he found that these grim men were searching for

"Scarce a dozen, barring the Earl of Buckingham," replied the knave; "and, furthermore, there be a way to

enter, which I may show you, My Lord, so that you may, unseen, reach the apartment where My Lady and the

"Bring ten men, beside yourself, Shandy," commanded Norman of Torn. "We shall pay a little visit upon our

Half an hour's ride brought them within sight of the castle. Dismounting, and leaving their horses with one of

the men, Norman of Torn advanced on foot with Shandy and the eight others, close in the wake of the

The fellow led them to the rear of the castle, where, among the brush, he had hidden a rude ladder, which,

when tilted, spanned the moat and rested its farther end upon a window ledge some ten feet above the ground.

"Keep the fellow here till last, Shandy," said the outlaw, "till all be in, an' if there be any signs of treachery

So saying Norman of Torn crept boldly across the improvised bridge, and disappeared within the window

beyond. One by one the band of cutthroats passed through the little window, until all stood within the castle

"Lead me quietly, knave, to the room where My Lord sups," said Norman of Torn. "You, Shandy, place your

Following a moment or two after Shandy came an other figure stealthily across the ladder, and as Norman

of Torn and his followers left the little room this figure pushed quietly through the window and followed the

A moment later My Lady of Leybourn looked up from her plate upon the grim figure of an armored knight

And as the Earl of Buckingham glanced behind him he overturned the bench upon which he sat, in his effort

"In a grim old castle in Essex, only last night, a great lord of England held by force the beautiful daughter of a

noble house, and, when she spurned his advances, he struck her with his clenched fist upon her fair face, and

with his brute hands choked her. And in that castle also was a despised and hunted outlaw, with a price upon

his head, for whose neck the hempen noose has been yawning these many years. And it was this vile person

who came in time to save the young woman from the noble flower of knighthood that would have ruined her

"The outlaw wished to kill the knight, but many menatarms came to the noble's rescue, and so the outlaw

was forced to fly with the girl lest he be over come by numbers, and the girl thus fall again into the hands of

"But this crude outlaw was not satisfied with merely rescuing the girl, he must needs mete out justice to her

noble abductor and collect in full the toll of blood which alone can atone for the insult and violence done her.

"My Lady, the young girl was Joan de Tany; the noble was My Lord the Earl of Buckingham; and the outlaw

The encounter was short, for Norman of Torn had come to kill, and he had been looking through a haze of

blood for hoursin fact every time he had thought of those brutal fingers upon the fair throat of Joan de

He showed no mercy, but backed the Earl relentlessly into a corner of the room, and when he had him there

where he could escape in no direction, he drove his blade so deep through his putrid heart that the point

Claudia Leybourn sat frozen with horror at the sight she was witnessing, and, as Norman of Torn wrenched

his blade from the dead body before him and wiped it on the rushes of the floor, she gazed in awful fascina

tion while he drew his dagger and made a mark upon the forehead of the dead nobleman.

"Outlaw or Devil," said a stern voice behind them, "Roger Leybourn owes you his friendship for saving the

Both turned to discover a mailclad figure standing in the doorway where Norman of Torn had first

For answer Norman of Torn pointed to the forehead of the dead Earl of Buckingham, and there Roger

"I owe you much, you have saved my poor, silly wife from this beast, and Joan de Tany is my cousin, so I am

"You owe me nothing, Sir Roger, that may not be paid by a good supper; I have eaten but once in forty eight

The outlaw now called to Shandy and his men, telling them to remain on watch, but to interfere with no one

He then sat at the table with Roger Leybourn and his lady, who had recovered from her swoon, and be hind

them on the rushes of the floor lay the body of De Fulm in a little pool of blood.

Leybourn told them that he had heard that De Fulm was at his home, and had hastened back; having been in

hiding about the castle for half an hour before the arrival of Norman of Torn, awaiting an opportunity to enter

unobserved by the servants. It was he who had followed across the ladder after Shandy.

The outlaw spent the night at the castle of Roger Leybourn; for the first time within his memory a wel

The following morning he bade his host goodbye, and returning to his camp started on his homeward march

Near midday, as they were approaching the Thames near the environs of London, they saw a great con

course of people hooting and jeering at a small party of gentlemen and gentlewomen.

Some of the crowd were armed, and from very force of numbers were waxing brave to lay violent hands upon

the party. Mud and rocks and rotten vegetables were being hurled at the little cavalcade, many of them barely

Norman of Torn waited to ask no questions, but spurring into the thick of it laid right and left of him with the

flat of his sword, and his men, catching the contagion of it, swarmed after him until the whole pack of

And then, without a backward glance at the party he had rescued, he continued on his march toward the

The little party sat upon their horses looking in won der after the retreating figures of their deliverers. 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. He thus addressed put spurs to his horse, and rode at a rapid gallop after the

outlaw's troop. In a few moments he had overtaken them and reined up beside Norman of Torn.

"Hold, Sir Knight," cried the gentleman, "the Queen would thank you in person for your brave defence of

Ever keen to see the humor of a situation, Norman of Torn wheeled his horse and rode back with the Queen's

"You be a strange knight that thinks so lightly on saving a queen's life that you ride on without turning your

head, as though you had but driven a pack of curs from annoying a stray cat," said the Queen.

"I drew in the service of a woman, Your Majesty, not in the service of a queen."

"What now! Wouldst even belittle the act which we all witnessed? The King, my husband, shall reward thee,

"If I told my name methinks the King would be more apt to hang me," laughed the outlaw. "I be Nor man of

The entire party looked with startled astonishment upon him, for none of them had ever seen this bold raider

"For lesser acts than that which thou hast just per formed, the King has pardoned men before," replied Her

Majesty. "But raise your visor, I would look upon the face of so notorious a criminal who can yet be a

"They who have looked upon my face, other than my friends," replied Norman of Torn quietly, "have never

lived to tell what they saw beneath this visor; and as for you, Madame, I have learned within the year to fear

it might mean unhappiness to you to see the visor of the Devil of Torn lifted from his face." Without another

And so the Outlaw of Torn and his mother met and parted after a period of twenty years.

Two days later Norman of Torn directed Red Shan dy to lead the forces of Torn from their Essex camp back

to Derby. The numerous raiding parties which had been constantly upon the road during the days they had

spent in this rich district had loaded the extra sumpter beasts with rich and valuable booty and the men, for

the time satiated with fighting and loot, turned their faces toward Torn with evident satisfac tion.

The outlaw was speaking to his captains in council; at his side the old man of Torn.

"Ride by easy stages, Shandy, and I will overtake you by tomorrow morning. I but ride for a moment to the

castle of De Tany on an errand, and as I shall stop there but a few moments I shall surely join you to

"Do not forget, My Lord," said Edwild the Serf, a great yellowhaired Saxon giant, "that there be a party of

"I shall give them plenty of room," replied Norman of Torn. "My neck itcheth not to be stretched," and he

Five minutes after he had cantered down the road from camp, Spizo the Spaniard, sneaking his horse un

seen into the surrounding forest, mounted and spurred rapidly after him. The camp, in the throes of packing

refractory, half broken sumpter animals, and saddling their own wild mounts, did not notice his departure.

That afternoon as Roger de Conde was admitted to the castle of Richard de Tany, and escorted to a little room

where he awaited the coming of the Lady Joan, a swarthy messenger handed a letter to the captain of the

The officer tore open the seal as the messenger turned and spurred back in the direction from which he had

Instantly the call "to arms" and "mount" sounded through the camp; and in five minutes a hundred mer

cenaries galloped rapidly toward the castle of Richard de Tany, in the visions of their captain a great reward

and honor and preferment for the capture of the mighty outlaw who was now almost within his clutches.

Three roads meet at Tany; one from the south along which the King's soldiers were now riding; one from the

west which had guided Norman of Torn from his camp to the castle; and a third which ran northwest through

All unconscious of the rapidly approaching foes Nor man of Torn waited composedly in the anteroom for

Presently she entered, clothed in the clinging house garment of the period; a beautiful vision, made more

beautiful by the suppressed excitement which caused the blood to surge beneath the velvet of her cheek, and

She let him take her fingers in his and raise them to his lips, and then they stood looking into each other's

"I do not know how to tell you what I have come to tell," he said sadly. "I have not meant to deceive you to

your harm, but the temptation to be with you and those whom you typify must be my excuse. I" He

paused. It was easy to tell her that he was the Out law of Torn, but if she loved him, as he feared, how was

"You need tell me nothing," interrupted Joan de Tany. "I have guessed what you would tell me, Nor man of

Torn. 'The spell of moonlight and adventure is no longer upon us'those are your own words, and still I am

The little emphasis she put upon the last word be spoke the finality of her decision that the Outlaw of Torn

"It is best," he replied, relieved that, as he thought, she felt no love for him now that she knew him for what

he really was. "Nothing good could come to such as you, Joan, if the Devil of Torn could claim more of you

than friendship; and so I think that for your peace of mind and for my own we will let it be as though you had

never known me. I thank you that you have not been angry with me. Remember me only to think that in the

hills of Derby a sword is at your service, without reward and without price. Should you ever need it, Joan, tell

"Farewell," he said, and as he again kissed her hand he bent his knee to the ground in reverence. Then he rose

to go, pressing a little packet into her palm. Their eyes met, and the man saw in that brief instant deep in the

azure depths of the girl's that which tumbled the structure of his newfound complacency about his ears.

As he rode out into the bright sunlight upon the road which led northwest toward Derby, Norman of Torn

bowed his head in sorrow, for he realized two things. One was that the girl he had left still loved him, and that

some day, mayhap tomorrow, she would suffer be cause she had sent him away; and the other was that he

did not love her, that his heart was locked in the fair breast of Bertrade de Montfort.

He felt himself a beast that he had allowed his lone liness and the aching sorrow of his starved, empty heart

to lead him into this girl's life. That he had been new to women and newer still to love did not permit him to

excuse himself, and a hundred times he cursed his folly and stupidity, and what he thought was fickleness.

But the unhappy affair had taught him one thing for certain: to know without question what love 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.

Another thing, a painful thing he had learned from it, too, that the attitude of Joan de Tany, daughter of an old

and noble house, was but the attitude which the Out law of Torn must expect from any good woman of her

class; what he must expect from Bertrade de Mont fort when she learned that Roger de Conde was Nor

The outlaw had scarce passed out of sight upon the road to Derby ere the girl, who still stood in an em

brasure of the south tower, gazing with strangely drawn, sad face up the road which had swallowed him, saw

The King's banner waved above their heads, and in tuitively Joan de Tany knew for whom they sought at

her father's castle. Quickly she hastened to the outer barbican that it might be she who answered their hail

She had scarcely reached the ramparts of the outer gate ere the King's men drew rein before the castle.

"We seek the outlaw, Norman of Torn, who hides now within this castle," replied the officer.

"There be no outlaw here," replied the girl, "but, if you wish, you may enter with half a dozen men and search

This the officer did and when he had assured him self that Norman of Torn was not within an hour had

passed, and Joan de Tany felt certain that the Outlaw of Torn was too far ahead to be caught by the King's

"There was one here just before you came who called himself though by another name than Norman of Torn,

"Straight toward the west by the middle road," lied Joan de Tany. And as the officer hurried from the castle

and, with his men at his back, galloped furiously away toward the west, the girl sank down upon a bench,

Then she opened the packet which Norman of Torn had handed her, and within found two others. In one of

these was a beautiful jeweled locket, and on the out side were the initials JT, and on the inside the initials

NT; in the other was a golden hair ornament set with precious stones, and about it was wound a strand of her

She looked long at the little trinkets and then, press ing them against her lips, she threw herself face down

She was indeed but a little girl chained by the inex orable bonds of caste to a false ideal. Birth and station

spelled honor to her, and honor, to the daughter of an English noble, was a mightier force even than love.

That Norman of Torn was an outlaw she might have forgiven, but that he was, according to report, a low

For hours the girl lay sobbing upon the bench, whilst within her raged the mighty battle of the heart against

Thus her mother found her, and kneeling beside her, and with her arms about the girl's neck, tried to soothe

her and to learn the cause of her sorrow. Finally it came, poured from the flood gates of a sorrowing heart;

that wave of bitter misery and hopelessness which not even a mother's love could check.

"Joan, my dear daughter," cried Lady de Tany, "I sorrow with thee that thy love has been cast upon so bleak

and impossible a shore. But it be better that thou hast learnt the truth ere it were too late; for, take my word

upon it, Joan, the bitter humiliation such an al liance must needs have brought upon thee and thy father's

house would soon have cooled thy love; nor could his have survived the sneers and affronts even the menials

"Oh, mother, but I love him so," moaned the girl. "I did not know how much until he had gone, and the

King's officer had come to search for him, and then the thought that all the power of a great throne and the

mightiest houses of an entire kingdom were turned in hatred against him raised the hot blood of anger within

me and the knowledge of my love surged through all my being. Mother, thou canst not know the honor, and

the bravery, and the chivalry of the man as I do. Not since Arthur of Silures kept his round table hath ridden

"Couldst thou but have seen him fight, my mother, and witnessed the honor of his treatment of thy daugh

ter, and heard the tone of dignified respect in which he spoke of women thou wouldst have loved him, too,

and felt that outlaw though he be, he is still more a gentle man than ninetenths the nobles of England."

"But his birth, my daughter!" argued the Lady de Tany. "Some even say that the gall marks of his brass collar

still showeth upon his neck, and others that he knoweth not himself the name of his own father, nor had he

Ah, but this was the mighty argument! Naught could the girl say to justify so heinous a crime as low birth.

What a man did in those rough cruel days might be forgotten and forgiven but the sins of his mother or his

grandfather in not being of noble blood, no matter howsoever wickedly attained, he might never overcome or

Torn by conflicting emotions the poor girl dragged herself to her own apartment and there upon a restless,

sleepless couch, beset by wild, impossible hopes, and vain, torturing regrets, she fought out the long, bitter

night; until toward morning she solved the problem of her misery in the only way that seemed possible to her

poor, tired, bleeding, little heart. When the rising sun shone through the narrow window it found Joan de

Tany at peace with all about her; the carved golden hilt of the toy that had hung at her girdle protruded from

her breast, and a thin line of crimson ran across the snowy skin to a little pool upon the sheet beneath her.

And so the cruel hand of a mighty revenge had reached out to crush another innocent victim.

WHEN word of the death of Joan de Tany reached Torn no man could tell from outward appearance the

depth of the suffering which the sad intelligence wrought on the master of Torn.

All that they who followed him knew was that cer tain unusual orders were issued, and that that same night

the ten companies rode south toward Essex without other halt than for necessary food and water for man and

When the body of Joan de Tany rode forth from her father's castle to the church at Colchester, and again as it

was brought back to its final resting place in the castle's crypt, a thousand strange and silent knights, black

Silently they had come in the night preceding the fun eral, and as silently they slipped away northward into

No word had passed between those of the castle and the great troop of sableclad warriors, but all within

knew that the mighty Outlaw of Torn had come to pay homage to the memory of the daughter of De Tany,

As the horde of Torn approached their Derby strong hold their young leader turned the command over to

"I am tired, Father," said the outlaw as he threw himself upon his accustomed bench. "Naught but sor row

and death follow in my footsteps. I and all my acts be accurst, and upon those I love the blight fall eth."

"Alter thy ways, my son; follow my advice ere it be too late. Seek out a new and better life in another country

"Would that I might, my friend," answered Norman of Torn. "But hast thou thought on the consequences

which surely would follow should I thus remove both heart and head from the thing that I have built?

"What suppose thou would result were Norman of Torn to turn his great band of cutthroats, leaderless, upon

"Wouldst thou draw a single breath in security if thou knew Edwild the Serf were ranging unchecked through

Derby? Edwild, whose father was torn limb from limb upon the rack because he would not confess to killing

a buck in the new forest, a buck which fell before the arrow of another man; Edwild, whose mother was

"And Horsan the Dane, Father. How thinkest thou the safety of the roads would be for either rich or poor an I

"And Pensilo the Spanish Don! A great captain, but a man absolutely without bowels of compassion. When

first he joined us and saw our mark upon the foreheads of our dead, wishing to outHerod Herod, he marked

the living which fell into his hands with a red hot iron, branding a great P upon each cheek and burning out

the right eye completely. Wouldst like to feel, Father, that Don Piedro Castro y Pensilo ranged free through

"And Red Shandy, and the two Florys, and Peter the Hermit, and One Eye Kanty, and Gropello, and

Campanee, and Cobarth, and Mandecote, and the thou sand others, each with a special hatred for some

particu lar class or individual, and all filled with the lust of blood and rapine and loot.

"No, Father, I may not go yet, for the England I have been taught to hate I have learned to love, and I have it

not in my heart to turn loose upon her fair breast the beasts of hell who know no law or order or decency

"Thou hast indeed a grave responsibility, my son," he said at last. "Thou canst not well go unless thou takest

thy horde with thee out of England, but even that may be possible; who knows other than God?"

"For my part" laughed the outlaw, "I be willing to leave it in His hands; which seems to be the way with

Christians. When one would shirk a responsibility, or explain an error, lo, one shoulders it upon the Lord."

"I fear, my son," said the priest, "that what seed of reverence I have attempted to plant within thy breast hath

"That dependeth upon the viewpoint, Father; as I take not the Lord into partnership in my successes it

seemeth to me to be but of a mean and poor spirit to saddle my sorrows and perplexities upon Him. I may be

wrong, for I am illversed in religious matters, but my conception of God and scapegoat be not that they are

"Religion, my son, be a bootless subject for argu ment between friends," replied the priest, "and fur ther,

there be that nearer my heart just now which I would ask thee. I may offend, but thou know I do not mean to.

The question I would ask, is, dost wholly trust the old man whom thou call father?"

"I know of no treachery," replied the outlaw, "which he hath ever conceived against me. Why?"

"I ask because I have written to Simon de Montfort asking him to meet me and two others here upon an

important matter. I have learned that he expects to be at his Leicester castle, for a few days, within the week.

He is to notify me when he will come and I shall then send for thee and the old man of Torn; but it were as

well, my son, that thou do not mention this matter to thy father, nor let him know when thou come hither to

"As you say, Father," replied Norman of Torn. "I do not make head nor tail of thy wondrous intrigues, but

that thou wish it done thus or so is sufficient. I must be off to Torn now, so I bid thee farewell."

Until the following spring Norman of Torn con tinued to occupy himself with occasional pillages against

the royalists of the surrounding counties, and his pa trols so covered the public highways that it became a

matter of grievous import to the King's party, for no one was safe in the district who even so much as sym

pathized with the King's cause, and many were the dead foreheads that bore the grim mark of the Devil of

Though he had never formally espoused the cause of the barons, it now seemed a matter of little doubt but

The long winter evenings within the castle of Torn were often spent in rough, wild carousals in the great hall

where a thousand men might sit at table singing, fighting and drinking until the gray dawn stole in through

the east windows, or Peter the Hermit, the fierce majordomo, tired of the din and racket came stalking into

the chamber with drawn sword and laid upon the revellers with the flat of it to enforce the authority of his

Norman of Torn and the old man seldom joined in these wild orgies, but when minstrel, or troubadour, or

storyteller wandered to his grim lair the Outlaw of Torn would sit enjoying the break in the winter's dull

monotony to as late an hour as another; nor could any man of his great fierce horde outdrink their chief when

he cared to indulge in the pleasures of the wine cup. The only effect that liquor seemed to have upon him was

to increase his desire to fight, so that he was wont to pick needless quarrels and to resort to his sword for the

slightest, or for no provocation at all. So, for this reason, he drank but seldom since he always regretted the

things he did under the promptings of that other self which only could assert its ego when reason was

Often on these evenings the company was enter tained by stories from the wild, roving lives of its own

members. Tales of adventure, love, war and death in every known corner of the world; and the ten cap tains

told, each, his story of how he came to be of Torn; and thus, with fighting enough by day to keep them good

humored, the winter passed, and spring came with the ever wondrous miracle of awakening life, with soft

Through all the winter Father Claude had been ex pecting to hear from Simon de Montfort but not until now

did he receive a message which told the good priest that his letter had missed the great baron and had

followed him around until he had but just received it. The message closed with these words:

"Any clew however vague which might lead nearer to a true knowledge of the fate of Prince Richard we shall

most gladly receive and give our best attention. Therefore if thou wilst find it convenient we shall visit thee,

Spizo the Spaniard had seen De Montfort's man leave the note with Father Claude and he had seen the priest

hide it under a great bowl on his table, so that when the good father left his cottage it was the matter of but a

moment's work for Spizo to transfer the mes sage from its hiding place to the breast of his tunic. The fellow

could not read, but he to whom he took the missive could, laboriously, decipher the Latin in which it was

The old man of Torn fairly trembled with suppressed rage as the full purport of this letter flashed upon him. It

had been years since he had heard aught of the search for the little lost prince of England, and now that the

period of his silence was drawing to a close, now that more and more often opportunities were opening up to

him to wreak the last shred of his terrible ven geance, the very thought of being thwarted at the final

"On the fifth day," he repeated. "That is the day on which we were to ride south again. Well, we shall ride,

That same spring evening in the year 1264 a messen ger drew rein before the walls of Torn and, to the

"A royal messenger from His Illustrious Majesty, Henry, by the grace of God, King of England, Lord of

Norman of Torn directed that the King's messenger be admitted, and the knight was quickly ushered into the

The bearing of the King's officer was haughty and arrogant, as became a man of birth when dealing with a

"His Majesty has deigned to address you, sirrah," he said, withdrawing a parchment from his breast. "And as

"I can read," replied Norman of Torn, "whatever the King can write. Unless it be," he added, "that the King

"It ill becomes such a low fellow to speak thus disrespectfully of our gracious King. If he were less generous

"A bridle for thy tongue, my friend," replied Nor man of Torn, "were in better taste than a halter for my

neck. But come, let us see what the King writes to his friend, the Outlaw of Torn."

Henry, by Grace of God, King of England, Lord of Ireland, Duke of Aquitaine; to Norman of Torn:

Since it has been called to our notice that you be harassing and plundering the persons and property of our

We therefore, by virtue of the authority vested in us by Almighty God do command that you cease these

And further, through the gracious intercession of Her Majesty, Queen Eleanor, we do offer you full pardon

Provided, you repair at once to the town of Lewes, with all the fighting men, your followers, prepared to

protect the security of our person, and wage war upon those enemies of England, Simon de Montfort, Gilbert

de Clare and their accomplices, who even now are collected to threaten and menace our person and king

Or, otherwise, shall you suffer death, by hanging, for your long unpunished crimes. Witnessed myself, at

"The closing paragraph be unfortunately worded," said Norman of Torn, "for because of it shall the King's

messenger eat the King's message; and thus take back in his belly the answer of Norman of Torn." And

The knight whipped out his sword, but the Devil of Torn was even quicker, so that it seemed that the King's

messenger had deliberately hurled his weapon across the room, so quickly did the outlaw disarm him.

And then Norman of Torn took the man by the neck with one powerful hand, and, despite his struggles, and

the beating of his mailed fists, bent him back upon the table, and there, forcing his teeth apart with the point

of his sword, Norman of Torn rammed the King's mes sage down the knight's throat; wax, parchment and

It was a crestfallen gentleman who rode forth from the castle of Torn a half hour later and spurred rapidly his

When, two days later, he appeared before the King at Winchelsea and reported the outcome of his mis sion

Henry raged and stormed, swearing by all the saints in the calendar that Norman of Torn should hang for his

News of the fighting between the barons and the King's forces at Rochester, Battel and elsewhere reached the

ears of Norman of Torn a few days after the com ing of the King's message, but at the same time came other

news which hastened his departure toward the south. This latter word was that Bertrade de Montfort and her

mother, accompanied by Prince Philip, had landed at Dover, and that upon the same boat had come Peter of

Colfax back to England. The latter doubtless reassured by the strong conviction, which held in the minds of

all royalists at that time, of the certainty of victory for the royal arms in the impending conflict with the rebel

Norman of Torn had determined that he would see Bertrade de Montfort once again, and clear his conscience

by a frank avowal of his identity. He knew what the result must be; his experience with Joan de Tany had

taught him that. But the fine sense of chivalry which ever dominated all his acts where the happiness or honor

of women were concerned urged him to give himself over as a sacrifice upon the altar of a woman's pride,

that it might be she who spurned and rejected; for, as it must appear now, it had been he whose love had

grown cold. It was a bitter thing to contemplate, for not alone would the mighty pride of the man be lacerated,

Two days before the start of the march Spizo the Spaniard reported to the old man of Torn that he had

overheard Father Claude ask Norman of Torn to come with his father to the priest's cottage the morning of

the march to meet Simon de Montfort upon an impor tant matter, but what the nature of the thing was the

This report seemed to please the little, grim, gray old man more than aught he had heard in several days; for it

made it apparent that the priest had not as yet divulged the tenor of his conjecture to the Outlaw of Torn.

On the evening of the day preceding that set for the march south, a little, wiry figure, grim and gray, en

tered the cottage of Father Claude. No man knows what words passed between the good priest and his visitor

nor the details of what befell within the four walls of the little cottage that night; but some half hour only

elapsed before the little, grim, gray man emerged from the darkened interior and hastened upward upon the

The castle of Torn was filled with the rush and rattle of preparation early the following morning, for by eight

o'clock the column was to march. The court yard was filled with hurrying squires and lackeys. War horses

were being groomed and caparisoned; sumpter beasts, snubbed to great posts, were being laden with the tents,

bedding, and belongings of the men; while those already packed were wandering loose among the other

animals and men. There was squealing, biting, kicking, and cursing as animals fouled one another with their

Squires were running hither and thither, or aiding their masters to don armor, lacing helm to hauberk, tying

the points of ailette, coude, and rondel; buckling cuisse and jambe to thigh and leg. The open forges of

armorer and smithy smoked and hissed, and the din of hammer on anvil rose above the thousand lesser noises

of the castle courts, the shouting of commands, the rat tle of steel, the ringing of iron hoof on stone flags, as

these artificers hastened, sweating and cursing, through the eleventh hour repairs to armor, lance and sword,

Finally the captains came, armored capapie, and with them some semblance of order and quiet out of

chaos and bedlam. First the sumpter beasts, all loaded now, were driven, with a strong escort, to the downs

below the castle and there held to await the column. Then, one by one, the companies were formed and

marched out beneath fluttering pennon and waving banner to the martial strains of bugle and trumpet.

Last of all came the catapults, those great engines of destruction which hurled two hundred pound bowlders

And after all had passed through the great gates Norman of Torn and the little old man walked side by side

from the castle building and mounted their chargers held by two squires in the center of the court yard.

Below, on the downs, the column was forming in marching order, and as the two rode out to join it the little

"I had almost forgot a message I have for you, my son. Father Claude sent word last evening that he had been

called suddenly south, and that some appoint ment you had with him must therefore be deferred un til

later; he said that you would understand." The old man eyed his companion narrowly through the eye slit in

"'Tis passing strange," said Norman of Torn but that was his only comment. And so they joined the column

which moved slowly down toward the valley and as they passed the cottage of Father Claude, Norman of

Torn saw that the door was closed and that there was no sign of life about the place. A wave of melan choly

passed over him, for the deserted aspect of the little flower hedged cote seemed dismally prophetic of a near

Scarcely had the horde of Torn passed out of sight down the east edge of the valley ere a party of richly

dressed knights, coming from the south by another road along the west bank of the river, crossed over and

As their hails were unanswered one of the party dismounted to enter the building.

"Have a care, My Lord," cried his companion. "This be over close to the Castle Torn and there may easily be

"Fear not," replied Simon de Montfort, "the Devil of Torn hath no quarrel with me." Striding up the little path

he knocked loudly on the door. Receiving no reply he pushed it open and stepped into the dim light of the

interior. There he found his host, the good father Claude, stretched upon his back on the floor, the breast of

"The secret of the little lost prince of England be a dangerous burden for a man to carry," he said. "But this

convinces me more than any words the priest might have uttered that the abductor be still in Eng land, and

A search of the cottage revealed the fact that it had been ransacked thoroughly by the assassin. The con tents

of drawer and box littered every room, though that the object was not rich plunder was evidenced by many

"The true object lies here," said De Montfort, point ing to the open hearth upon which lay the charred re

mains of many papers and documents. "All written evi dence has been destroyed, but hold what lieth here

beneath the table?" and, stooping, the Earl of Lei cester picked up a sheet of parchment on which a letter

Lest some unforeseen chance should prevent the ac complishment of our meeting, My Lord Earl, I send thee

this by one who knoweth not either its contents or the suspicions which I will narrate herein.

He who bareth this letter I truly, believe to be the lost Prince Richard. Question him closely, My Lord, and I

Of his past thou know nearly as much as I, though thou may not know the wondrous chivalry and true

"Mon Dieu! The damnable luck!" cried De Mont fort, "but a second more and the name we have sought for

twenty years would have been writ. Didst ever see such hellish chance as plays into the hand of the fiend

incarnate since that long gone day when his sword pierced the heart of Lady Maud by the postern gate beside

"There be naught more we can do here," he con tinued. "I should have been on my way to Fletching hours

since. Come, my gentlemen, we will ride south by way of Leicester and have the good Fathers there look to

The party mounted and rode rapidly away. Noon found them at Leicester, and three days later they rode into

At almost the same hour the monks of the Abbey of Leicester performed the last rites of Holy Church for the

And thus another innocent victim of an insatiable hate and vengeance which bad been born in the King's

WHILE Norman of Torn and his thousand fighting men marched slowly south on the road toward Dover, the

army of Simon de Montfort was preparing for its advance upon Lewes, where King Henry, with his son

Prince Edward, and his brother, Prince Richard, King of the Romans, together with the latter's son, were

Before sunrise on a May morning in the year 1264, the barons' army set out from its camp at Fletching, nine

miles from Lewes, and, marching through dense forests, reached a point two miles from the city, un

From here they ascended the great ridge of the hills up the valley Combe, the projecting shoulder of the

Downs covering their march from the town. The King's party, however, had no suspicion that an attack was

imminent, and, in direct contrast to the methods of the baronial troops, had spent the preceding night in

It is true that Henry had stationed an outpost upon the summit of the hill in advance of Lewes, but so lax was

discipline in his army that the soldiers, growing tired of the duty, had abandoned the post toward morning,

and returned to town, leaving but a single man on watch. He, left alone, had promptly fallen asleep; and thus

De Montfort's men found and captured him within sight of the belltower of the Priory of Lewes, where the

King and his royal allies lay peacefully asleep, after their night of wine and dancing and song.

Had it not been for an incident which now befell, the baronial army would doubtless have reached the city

without being detected, but it happened that the evening before Henry had ordered a foraging party to ride

This party had scarcely left the city behind them ere they fell into the hands of the baronial troops. Though

some few were killed or captured those who escaped were sufficient to arouse the sleeping army of the

By this time the four divisions of De Montfort's army were in full view of the town. On the left were the

Londoners under Nicholas de Segrave; in the center rode De Clare, with John FitzJohn and William de

Monchensy, at the head of a large division which oc cupied that branch of the hill which descended a gen

tle, unbroken slope to the town. The right wing was commanded by Henry de Montfort, the oldest son of

Simon de Montfort, and with him was the third son, Guy, as well as John de Burgh and Humphrey de Bo

Thus was the flower of English chivalry pitted against the King and his party, which included many nobles

whose kinsmen were with De Montfort; so that brother faced brother, and father fought against son, on that

Prince Edward was the first of the royal party to take the field, and as he issued from the castle with his

gallant company, banners and pennons streaming in the breeze and burnished armor and flashing blade

scintillating in the morning sunlight, he made a gor geous and impressive spectacle as he hurled himself

upon the Londoners, whom he had selected for at tack because of the affront they had put upon his mother

So vicious was his onslaught that the poorly armed and unprotected burghers, unused to the stern game of

war, fell like sheep before the iron men on their iron shod horses. The long lances, the heavy maces, the six

bladed battle axes, and the well tempered swords of the knights played havoc among them, so that the rout

was complete; but, not content with victory, Prince Edward must glut his vengeance, and so he pursued the

citizens for miles, butchering great numbers of them, while many more were drowned in attempting to escape

The left wing of the royalist army, under the King of the Romans and his gallant son, was not so fortunate for

The central divisions of the two armies seemed well matched also, and thus the battle continued through out

the day, the greatest advantage appearing to lie with the King's troops. Had Edward not gone so far afield in

pursuit of the Londoners, the victory might easily have been on the side of the royalists early in the day, but

by thus eliminating his division after de feating a part of De Montfort's army, it was as though neither of

The wily Simon de Montfort had attempted a little ruse which centered the fighting for a time upon the crest

of one of the hills. He had caused his car to be placed there, with the tents and luggage of many of his leaders,

under a small guard, so that the banners there displayed, together with the car, led the King of the Romans to

believe that the Earl himself lay there, for Simon de Montfort had but a month or so before suffered an injury

to his hip, when his horse fell with him, and the royalists were not aware that he had re covered sufficiently

And so it was that the forces under the King of the Romans pushed back the men of Henry de Montfort, and

ever and ever closer to the car came the royalists until they were able to fall upon it, crying out insults against

the old Earl and commanding him to come forth. And when they had killed the occupants of the car they

found that Simon de Montfort was not among them, but instead he had fastened there three im portant

citizens of London, old men and influential, who had opposed him, and aided and abetted the King.

So great was the wrath of Prince Richard, King of the Romans, that he fell upon the baronial troops with

This sight, together with the routing of the enemy's left wing by Prince Edward, so cheered and inspired the

royalists that the two remaining divisions took up the attack with refreshed spirits so that what a moment

Both De Montfort and the King had thrown them selves into the melee with all their reserves; no longer was

there semblance of organization. Division was in extricably bemingled with division; friend and foe formed

a jumbled confusion of fighting, cursing chaos, over which whipped the angry pennons and banners of

That the mass seemed moving ever away from Lewes indicated that the King's arms were winning toward

victory, and so it might have been had not a new element been infused into the battle; for now upon the brow

of the hill to the north of them appeared a great horde of armored knights, and as they came into position

where they could view the battle the leader raised his sword on high, and, as one man, the thousand broke

Both De Montfort and the King ceased fighting as they gazed upon this body of fresh, well armored, well

mounted reinforcements. Whom might they be? To which side owned they allegiance? And, then, as the

black falcon wing on the banners of the advancing horsemen became distinguishable, they saw that it was the

Now he was close upon them, and had there been any doubt before, the wild battle cry which rang from a

thousand fierce throats turned the hopes of the royalists cold within their breasts.

"For De Montfort! For De Montfort!" and "Down with Henry!" rang loud and clear above the din of battle.

Instantly the tide turned, and it was by only the bar est chance that the King himself escaped capture, and

The King of the Romans took refuge within an old mill, and here it was that Norman of Torn found him

barricaded. When the door was broken down the out law entered and dragged the monarch forth with his

own hand to the feet of De Montfort, and would have put him to death had not the Earl intervened.

"I have yet to see my mark upon the forehead of a King," said Norman of Torn, "and the temptation be great;

but, an you ask it, My Lord Earl, his life shall be yours to do with as you see fit."

"You have fought well this day, Norman of Torn," replied De Montfort. "Verily do I believe we owe our

victory to you alone; so do not mar the record of a noble deed by wanton acts of atrocity."

"It is but what they had done to me, were I the prisoner instead," retorted the outlaw.

"How comes it, Norman of Torn," asked De Montfort as they rode together toward Lewes, "that you threw

the weight of your sword upon the side of the barons? Be it because you hate the King more?"

"I do not know that I hate either, My Lord Earl," replied the outlaw. "I have been taught since birth to hate

you all, but why I should hate was never told me. Possibly it be but a bad habit that will yield to my maturer

"As for why I fought as I did today," he continued, "it be because the heart of Lady Bertrade your daughter be

upon your side. Had it been with the King, her uncle, Norman of Torn had fought otherwise than he has this

day. So you see, My Lord Earl, you owe me no gratitude. Tomorrow I may be pillaging your friends as of

Simon de Montfort turned to look at him, but the blank wall of his lowered visor gave no sign of the thoughts

"You do much for a mere friendship, Norman of Torn," said the Earl coldly, "and I doubt me not but that my

daughter has already forgot you. An English noble woman, preparing to become a princess of France, does

not have much thought to waste upon highway men." His tone, as well as his words were studiously

arrogant and insulting, for it had stung the pride of this haughty noble to think that a lowborn knave boasted

Norman of Torn made no reply, and could the Earl of Leicester have seen his face he had been surprised to

note that instead of grim hatred and resentment, the features of the Outlaw of Torn were drawn in lines of

pain and sorrow; for he read in the attitude of the father what he might expect to receive at the hands of the

WHEN those of the royalists who had not deserted the King and fled precipitately toward the coast had

regained the castle and the Priory the city was turned over to looting and rapine. In this Norman of Torn and

his men did not participate, but camped a little apart from the town until daybreak the following morn ing,

They marched until late the following evening, pass ing some twenty miles out of their way to visit a cer

tain royalist stronghold. The troops stationed there had fled, having been appraised some few hours earlier, by

Norman of Torn searched the castle for the one he sought, but, finding it entirely deserted, continued his

eastward march. Some few miles farther on he over took a party of deserting royalist soldiery, and from

them he easily, by dint of threats, elicited the informa tion he desired: the direction taken by the refugees

from the deserted castle, their number, and as close a description of the party as the soldiers could give.

Again he was forced to change the direction of his march, this time heading northward into Kent. It was dark

before he reached his destination, and saw before him the familiar outlines of the castle of Roger de Ley

bourn. This time the outlaw threw his fierce horde completely around the embattled pile, before he ad

Making sure that the drawbridge was raised, and that he could not hope for stealthy entrance there, he crept

silently to the rear of the great building, and there among the bushes his men searched for the lad der that

Norman of Torn had seen the knavish servant of My Lady Claudia unearth, that the outlaw might visit the

Presently they found it, and it was the work of but a moment to raise it to the sill of the low window, so that

Noiselessly they moved through the halls and corri dors of the castle until a maid, bearing a great pasty from

the kitchen, turned a sudden corner and bumped full into the Outlaw of Torn. With a shriek that might have

been heard at Lewes she dropped the dish upon the stone floor, and, turning, ran, still shrieking at the top of

So close behind her came the little band of out laws that scarce had the guests arisen in consternation from

the table at the shrill cries of the girl than Norman of Torn burst through the great door with twenty drawn

The hall was filled with knights and gentlewomen and house servants and menatarms. Fifty swords flashed

from fifty scabbards as the men of the party saw the hostile appearance of their visitors, but before a blow

could be struck Norman of Torn, grasping his sword in his right hand, raised his left aloft in a gesture for

"Hold!" he cried, and, turning directly to Roger de Leybourn, "I have no quarrel with thee, My Lord; but

again I come for a guest within thy halls. Methinks thou hast as bad taste in whom thou entertains as didst thy

"Who be ye, that thus rudely breaks in upon the peace of my castle, and makes bold to insult my guests?"

"Who be I! If you wait you shall see my mark upon the forehead of yon grinning baboon," replied the out

All eyes turned in the direction that the rigid finger of the outlaw indicated, and there indeed was a fear ful

apparition of a man. With livid face he stood, lean ing for support against the table; his craven knees

wabbling beneath his fat carcass; while his lips were drawn apart against his yellow teeth in a horrid grim

"If you recognize me not, Sir Roger," said Norman of Torn, drily, "it is evident that your honored guest hath a

At last the fear struck man found his tongue, and, though his eyes never left the menacing figure of the grim,

ironclad outlaw, he addressed the master of Leybourn; shrieking in a high, awe emasculated fal setto:

"Seize him! Kill him! Set your men upon him! Do you wish to live another moment draw and de fend

yourselves for he be the Devil of Torn, and there be a great price upon his head.

The Devil of Torn! Slowly the men standing there at the board of Sir Roger de Leybourn grasped the full

Tense silence for a moment held the room in the stillness of a sepulchre, and then a woman shrieked, and fell

prone across the table. She had seen the mark of the Devil of Torn upon the dead brow of her mate.

"Norman of Torn, but once before have you entered within the walls of Leybourn, and then you did, in the

service of another, a great service for the house of Leybourn; and you stayed the night, an honored guest. But

a moment since you said that you had no quarrel with me. Then why be you here? Speak! Shall it be as a

friend or an enemy that the master of Leybourn greets Norman of Torn; shall it be with outstretched hand or

"I come for this man whom you may all see has good reason to fear me. And when I go I take part of him

with me. I be in a great hurry, so I would pre fer to take my great and good friend, Peter of Col fax,

without interference; but, if you wish it otherwise; we be a score strong within your walls, and nigh a

"Your grievance against Peter of Colfax must be a mighty one, that you search him out thus within a day's

ride from the army of the King who has placed a price upon your head, and from another army of men who

"I would gladly go to hell after Peter of Colfax," replied the outlaw. "What my grievance be matters not.

Norman of Torn acts first and explains afterward, if he cares to explain at all. Come forth, Peter of Col fax,

and for once in your life, fight like a man, that you may save your friends here from the fate that has found

Slowly the palsied limbs of the great coward bore him tottering to the center of the room, where gradually a

little clear space had been made; the men of the party forming a circle, in the center of which stood Peter of

"Give him a great draught of brandy," said the out law, "or he will sink down and choke in the froth of his

When they had forced a goblet of the fiery liquid upon him, Peter of Colfax regained his lost nerve enough so

that he could raise his sword arm and de fend himself; and as the fumes circulated through him, and the

primal instinct of selfpreservation asserted it self, he put up a more and more creditable fight, until those

who watched thought that he might indeed have a chance to vanquish the Outlaw of Torn. But they did not

know that Norman of Torn was but playing with his victim, that he might make the torture long drawn out,

and wreak as terrible a punishment upon Peter of Colfax, before he killed him, as the Baron had visited upon

The guests were craning their necks to follow every detail of the fascinating drama that was being enacted

"Never was such sword play seen since the day the first sword was drawn from the first scabbard!" replied

Slowly but surely was Norman of Torn cutting Peter of Colfax to pieces; little by little, and with such

fiendish care that except for loss of blood, the man was in no way crippled; nor did the outlaw touch his

victim's face with his gleaming sword; that he was saving for the fulfillment of his design.

And Peter of Colfax, cornered and fighting for his life, was no marrowless antagonist, even against the Devil

of Torn. Furiously he fought; in the extremity of his fear rushing upon his executioner with frenzied agony.

And then the gleaming point of Norman of Torn flashed, lightninglike, in his victim's face, and above the

right eye of Peter of Colfax was a thin vertical cut from which the red blood had barely started to ooze ere

another swift move of that master sword hand placed a fellow to parallel the first.

Five times did the razor point touch the forehead of Peter of Colfax, until the watchers saw there, upon the

It was the end. Peter of Colfax, cut to ribbons yet fighting like the maniac he had become, was as good as

dead, for the mark of the Outlaw of Torn was upon his brow. Now, shrieking and gibbering through his

frothy lips, his yellow fangs bared in a mad and horrid grin, he rushed full upon Norman of Torn. There was a

flash of the great sword as the outlaw swung it to the full of his mighty strength through an arc that passed

above the shoulders of Peter of Colfax, and the grinning head rolled upon the floor, while the loath some

carcass, that had been a baron of England, sunk in a disheveled heap among the rushes of the great hall of the

A little shudder passed through the wideeyed guests. Some one broke into hysterical laughter, a woman

sobbed, and then Norman of Torn, wiping his blade upon the rushes of the floor as he had done upon another

"I would borrow yon golden platter, My Lord. It shall be returned, or a mightier one in its stead."

Leybourn nodded his assent, and Norman of Torn turned, with a few words of instructions, to one of his men.

The fellow gathered up the head of Peter of Col fax, and placed it upon the golden platter.

"I thank you, Sir Roger, for your hospitality," said Norman of Torn, with a low bow which included the

spellbound guests. "Adieu." Thus followed by his men, one bearing the head of Peter of Colfax upon the

platter of gold, Norman of Torn passed quietly from the hall and from the castle.

BOTH horses and men were fairly exhausted from the gruelling strain of many days of marching and fight

ing, so Norman of Torn went into camp that night; nor did he again take up his march until the second morn

He bent his direction toward the north and Leices ter's castle, where he had reason to believe he would find

a certain young woman, and though it galled his sore heart to think upon the humiliation that lay wait ing

Beside him on the march rode the fierce red giant, Shandy, and the wiry, gray little man of Torn, whom the

In no way, save the gray hair and the parchment surfaced skin, had the old fellow changed in all these years.

Without bodily vices, and clinging ever to the open air and the exercise of the foil he was still young in

For five years he had not crossed foils with Norman of Torn, but he constantly practiced with the best

swordsmen of the wild horde, so that it had become a subject often discussed among the men as to which of

Always taciturn, the old fellow rode in his usual silence. Long since had Norman of Torn usurped by the

force of his strong character and masterful ways, the position of authority in the castle of Torn. The old man

simply rode and fought with the others when it pleased him; and he had come on this trip because he felt that

Cold and hard, he looked with no love upon the man he still called "my son." If he held any sentiment toward

Norman of Torn it was one of pride which began and ended in the almost fiendish skill of his pupil's mighty

The little army had been marching for some hours when the advance guard halted a party bound south upon a

crossroad. There were some twenty or thirty men, mostly servants, and a half dozen richly garbed knights.

As Norman of Torn drew rein beside them he saw that the leader of the party was a very handsome man of

about his own age, and evidently a person of dis tinction; a profitable prize, thought the outlaw.

"Who are you," said the gentleman, in French, "that stops a prince of France upon the highroad as though he

"And be you riding to meet my Lady Bertrade de Montfort?" continued the outlaw, ignoring the Prince's

"It be," said the Devil of Torn, "for I be a friend of My Lady Bertrade, and as the way be beset with dangers

from disorganized bands of roving soldiery, it is unsafe for Monsieur le Prince to venture on with so small an

escort. Therefore will the friend of Lady Bertrade de Montfort ride with Monsieur le Prince to his destination

"It is kind of you, Sir Knight, a kindness that I will not forget. But, again, who is it that shows this solici

"Indeed!" cried Philip. "The great and bloody out law?" Upon his handsome face there was no look of fear

"Monsieur le Prince thinks, mayhap, that he will make a bad name for himself," he said, "if he rides in such

"My Lady Bertrade and her mother think you be less devil than saint," said the Prince. "They have told me of

how you saved the daughter of De Montfort, and, ever since, I have been of a great desire to meet you, and to

thank you. It had been my intention to ride to Torn for that purpose so soon as we reached Leicester, but the

Earl changed all our plans by his victory; and only yesterday, on his orders the Princess Eleanor, his wife,

with the Lady Bertrade, rode to Battel, where Simon de Montfort and the King are to be today. The Queen

also is there with her retinue, so it be expected that, to show the good feeling and renewed friendship existing

between De Montfort and his King, there will be gay scenes in the old fortress. But," he added, after a pause,

"dare the Outlaw of Torn ride within reach of the King who has placed a price upon his head?"

"The price has been there since I was eighteen," answered Norman of Torn, "and yet my head be where it has

always been. Can you blame me if I look with levity upon the King's price? It be not heavy enough to weigh

me down; nor never has it held me from going where I listed in all England. I am freer than the King, My

Together they rode toward Battel, and as they talked, Norman of Torn grew to like this brave and handsome

gentleman. In his heart was no rancor because of the coming marriage of the man to the woman he loved.

If Bertrade de Montfort loved this handsome French prince, then Norman of Torn was his friend; for his love

was a great love, above jealousy. It not only held her happiness above his own, but the happiness and welfare

It was dusk when they reached Battel and as Norman of Torn bid the prince adieu, for the horde was to make

"May I ask My Lord to carry a message to Lady Bertrade? It is in reference to a promise I made her two years

"Certainly, my friend," replied Philip. The outlaw, dismounting, called upon one of his squires for parch

Half an hour later a servant in the castle of Battel handed the missive to the daughter of Leicester as she sat

Two years have passed since you took the hand of the Outlaw of Torn in friendship, and now he comes to sue

It is that he may have speech with you, alone, in the castle of Battel this night.

Though the name Norman of Torn be fraught with terror to others, I know that you do not fear him, for you

My camp lies without the city's gates, and your mes senger will have safe conduct whatever reply he bears

Fear? Fear Norman of Torn? The girl smiled as she thought of that moment of terrible terror two years ago

when she learned, in the castle of Peter of Colfax, that she was alone with, and in the power of, the Devil of

Torn. And then she recalled his little acts of thought ful chivalry, nay, almost tenderness, on the long night

What a strange contradiction of a man! She won dered if he would come with lowered visor, for she was

still curious to see the face that lay behind the cold, steel mask. She would ask him this night to let her see his

face; or would that be cruel? For did they not say that it was from the very ugliness of it that he kept his helm

As her thoughts wandered back to her brief meeting with him two years before, she wrote and dispatched her

In the great hall that night as the King's party sat at supper, Philip of France, addressing Henry, said:

"And who thinkest thou, My Lord King, rode by my side to Battel today, that I might not be set upon by

"Nay, it was a man upon whose head Your Majesty has placed a price, Norman of Torn; and if all of your

English highwaymen be as courteous and pleasant gentlemen as he, I shall ride always alone and un armed

"Nay, Your Majesty, I think not," replied Philip, "for he was indeed a grim and mighty man, and at his back

rode as ferocious and aweinspiring a pack as ever I beheld outside a prison; fully a thousand strong they

"My Lord," said Henry, turning to Simon de Mont fort, "be it not time that England were rid of this devil's

spawn and his hellish brood? Though I pre sume," he added, a sarcastic sneer upon his lip, "that it may

prove embarrassing for My Lord Earl of Leicester to turn upon his companion in arms."

"You owe him victory at Lewes," snapped the King. "It were indeed a sad commentary upon the sincerity of

our loyalty professing lieges who turned their arms against our royal person, 'to save him from the treachery

of his false advisers,' that they called upon a cutthroat outlaw with a price upon his head to aid them in their

"My Lord King," cried De Montfort, flushing with anger, "I called not upon this fellow, nor did I know he

was within two hundred miles of Lewes until I saw him ride into the midst of the conflict that day. Neither

did I know, until I heard his battle cry, whether he would fall upon baron or royalist."

"If that be the truth, Leicester," said the King, with a note of skepticism which he made studiously apparent,

"You be King of England, My Lord Henry. If you say that he shall be hanged, hanged he shall be," re plied

"A dozen courts have already passed sentence upon him, it only remains to catch him, Leicester," said the

"And not," thought Philip of France, "if I know it, shall the brave Outlaw of Torn be hanged tomorrow."

In his camp without the city of Battel, Norman of Torn paced back and forth waiting an answer to his

Sentries patrolled the entire circumference of the bivouac, for the outlaw knew full well that he had put his

head within the lion's jaw when he had ridden thus boldly to the seat of English power. He had no faith in the

gratitude of De Montfort, and he knew full well what the King would urge when he learned that the man who

had sent his soldiers naked back to London, who had forced his messenger to eat the King's message, and

who had turned his victory to defeat at Lewes, was within reach of the army of De Montfort.

Norman of Torn loved to fight, but he was no fool, and so he did not relish pitting his thousand upon an open

No, he would see Bertrade de Montfort that night and before dawn his rough band would be far on the road

toward Torn. The risk was great to enter the castle, filled as it was with his mighty enemies. But if he died

there it would be in a good cause, thought he; and, anyway, he had set himself to do this duty which he

dreaded so, and do it he would were all the armies of the world camped within Battel.

Directly he heard a low challenge from one of his sentries, who presently appeared escorting a lackey.

The lackey approached and handed Norman of Torn a dainty parchment sealed with scented wax wafers.

"I am to wait, My Lord," replied the awestruck fellow, to whom the service had been much the same had his

Norman of Torn turned to a flickering torch and, breaking the seals, read the message from the woman he

Norman of Torn turned to where one of his captains squatted upon the ground beside an object covered with a

They fell in single file: first the lackey, Giles, then Norman of Torn and last the fellow whom he had

addressed as Flory bearing the object covered with a cloth. But it was not Flory who brought up the rear.

Flory lay dead in the shadow of a great oak within the camp; a thin wound below his left shoulder blade

marked the spot where a keen dagger had found its way to his heart, and in his place walked the little grim,

gray, old man, bearing the object covered with a cloth. But none might know the difference, for the little man

And so they came to a small gate which let into the castle wall where the shadow of a great tower made the

blackness of a black night doubly black. Through many dim corridors the lackey led them, and up wind ing

Norman of Torn touched the panel with the mailed knuckles of his right hand, and a low voice from within

Silently he strode into the apartment, a small ante chamber off a large hall. At one end was an open hearth

upon which logs were burning brightly, while a single lamp aided in diffusing a soft glow about the austere

chamber. In the center of the room was a table, and at the sides several benches.

"Place your burden upon this table, Flory," said Nor man of Torn. And when it had been done: "You may

He did not address Bertrade de Montfort until the door had closed behind the little grim, gray man who wore

the armor of the dead Flory and then Norman of Torn advanced to the table and stood with his left hand

He spoke in French, and she started slightly at his voice. Before, Norman of Torn had always spoken in

English. Where had she heard that voice! There were tones in it that haunted her.

"What promise did Norman of Torn e'er make to Bertrade de Montfort?" she asked. "I do not understand you,

"Look," he said. And as she approached the table he withdrew the cloth which covered the object that the

The girl started back with a little cry of terror, for there upon a golden platter was a man's head; horrid with

"Dost recognize the thing?" asked the outlaw. And then she did; but still she could not comprehend. At last,

slowly, there came back to her the idle, jesting promise of Roger de Conde to fetch the head of her enemy to

But what had the Outlaw of Torn to do with that! It was all a sore puzzle to her, and then she saw the bared

left hand of the grim, visored figure of the Devil of Torn, where it rested upon the table beside the grisly head

of Peter of Colfax; and upon the third finger was the great ring she had tossed to Roger de Conde on that day,

What strange freak was her brain playing her! It could not be, no it was impossible; then her glance fell again

upon the head grinning there upon the platter of gold, and upon the forehead of it she saw in letters of dried

Slowly her eyes returned to the ring upon the out law's hand, and then up to his visored helm. A step she

took toward him, one hand upon her breast, the other stretched pointing toward his face, and she swayed

"Your visor," she whispered, "raise your visor." And then, as though to herself: "It cannot be; it cannot be."

Norman of Torn, though it tore the heart from him, did as she bid, and there before her she saw the brave

"It be the cruel truth, My Lady Bertrade," said Nor man of Torn sadly. And, then, as she turned away from

him, burying her face in her raised arms, he came to her side, and, laying his hand upon her shoulder, said

"And now you see, My Lady, why I did not follow you to France. My heart went there with you, but I knew

that naught but sorrow and humiliation could come to one whom the Devil of Torn loved, if that love was

returned; and so I waited until you might forget the words you had spoken to Roger de Conde before I came

"It is because I love you, Bertrade, that I have come this night. God knows that it be no pleasant thing to see

the loathing in your very attitude, and to read the hate and revulsion that surges through your heart, or to

guess the hard, cold thoughts which fill your mind against me because I allowed you to speak the words you

"I make no excuse for my weakness. I ask no for giveness for what I know you never can forgive. That,

when you think of me, it will always be with loathing and contempt is the best that I can hope.

"I only know that I love you, Bertrade; I only know that I love you, and with a love that surpasseth even my

"Here is the ring that you gave in token of friendship. Take it. The hand that wore it has done no wrong by

"The blood that has pulsed through the finger that it circled came from a heart that beat for Bertrade de

Montfort; a heart that shall continue to beat for her alone until a merciful providence sees fit to gather in a

A thousand conflicting emotions surged through the heart of this proud daughter of the new conqueror of

England. The anger of an outraged confidence, grati tude for the chivalry which twice had saved her honor,

hatred for the murderer of a hundred friends and kins men, respect and honor for the marvellous courage of

the man, loathing and contempt for the base born, the memory of that exalted moment when those handsome

lips had clung to hers, pride in the fearlessness of a champion who dared come alone among twenty thou

sand enemies for the sake of a promise made her; but stronger than all the rest two stood out before her

mind's eye like living thingsthe degradation of his low birth, and the memory of the great love she had

And these two fought out their battle in the girl's breast. In those few brief moments of bewilderment and

indecision it seemed to Bertrade de Montfort that ten years passed above her head, and when she reached her

final resolution she was no longer a young girl but a grown woman who, with the weight of a mature

deliberation, had chosen the path which she would travel to the endto the final goal, however sweet or

Slowly she turned toward him who knelt with bowed head at her feet, and, taking the hand that held the ring

outstretched toward her, raised him to his feet. In silence she replaced the golden band upon his finger, and

"Keep the ring, Norman of Torn," she said. "The friendship of Bertrade de Montfort is not lightly given nor

"What do you mean?" he whispered. For in her eyes was that wondrous light he had seen there on that other

"I mean," she answered, "that, Roger de Conde or Norman of Torn, gentleman or highwayman, it be all the

Had she reviled him, spat upon him, he would not have been surprised, for he had expected the worst; but that

she should love him! Oh God, had his over wrought nerves turned his poor head? Was he dream ing this

But these warm arms about his neck, the sweet per fume of the breath that fanned his cheek; these were no

"Think thee what thou art saying, Bertrade?" he cried. "Dost forget that I be a low born knave, knowing not

my own mother and questioning even the identity of my father? Could a De Montfort face the world with

"I know what I say, perfectly," she answered. "Were thou born out of wedlock, the son of a hostler and a

scullery maid, still would I love thee, and honor thee, and cleave to thee. Where thou be, Norman of Torn,

there shall be happiness for me. Thy friends shall be my friends; thy joys shall be my joys; thy sorrows, my

"Why it is, my Norman, I know not. Only do I know that I didst often question my own self if in truth I did

really love Roger de Conde, but theeoh Nor man, why is it that there be no shred of doubt now, that this

"I do not know," he said simply and gravely. "So wonderful a thing be beyond my poor brain; but I think my

heart knows, for in very joy it is sending the hot blood racing and surging through my being till I were like to

"Sh!" she whispered, suddenly, "methinks I hear foot steps. They must not find thee here, Norman of Torn,

for the King has only this night wrung a promise from my father to take thee in the morning and hang thee.

"We shall not be separated, Bertrade; only so long as it may take thee to gather a few trinkets, and fetch thy

riding cloak. Thou ridest north tonight with Nor man of Torn, and by the third day Father Claude shall make

"I am glad thee wish it," she replied. "I feared that, for some reason, thee might not think it best for me to go

with thee now. Wait here, I will be gone but a moment. If the footsteps I hear approach this door," and she

indicated the door by which he had entered the little room, "thou canst step through this other door way into

Norman of Torn made a wry face, for he had no stomach for hiding himself away from danger.

"For my sake," she pleaded. So he promised to do as she bid, and she ran swiftly from the room to fetch her

WHEN the little, grim, gray man had set the object covered with a cloth upon the table in the center of the

room and left the apartment, he did not return to camp as Norman of Torn had ordered.

Instead he halted immediately without the little door, which he left a trifle ajar, and there he waited, listen

As he heard the proud daughter of Simon de Mont fort declare her love for the Devil of Torn a cruel smile

"It will be better than I had hoped," he muttered, and easier. 'S blood! How much easier now that Lei cester

too may have his whole proud heart in the hang ing of Norman of Torn. Ah, what a sublime revenge! I have

waited long, thou cur of a King, to return the blow thou struck that day, but the return shall be an hundred

Quickly the wiry figure hastened through the pas sageways and corridors, until he came to the great hall

where sat De Montfort and the King, with Philip of France and many others, gentlemen and nobles.

Before the guard at the door could halt him he had broken into the room, and, addressing the King, cried:

"Wouldst take the Devil of Torn, My Lord King? He be now alone where a few men may seize him."

"I be no madman, Your Majesty; never did brain work more clearly or to more certain ends," replied the man.

"He stands now within this palace and in his arms be Bertrade, daughter of My Lord Earl of Leicester. Even

"Hold," cried De Montfort. "Hold fast thy foul tongue. What meanest thou by uttering such lies, and to my

"They be no lies, Simon de Montfort. An I tell thee that Roger de Conde and Norman of Torn be one and the

"Come," said the little, old man. And turning he led from the hall, closely followed by De Montfort, the King,

"Thou hadst better bring twenty fighting menthou'lt need them all to take Norman of Torn," he advised De

Montfort. And so as they passed the guard room the party was increased by twenty menatarms.

Scarcely had Bertrade de Montfort left him ere Nor man of Torn heard the tramping of many feet. They

seemed approaching up the dim corridor that led to the little door of the apartment where he stood.

Quickly he moved to the opposite door, and, stand ing with his hand upon the latch, waited. Yes, they were

coming that way, many of them and quickly; and as he heard them pause without he drew aside the arras and

pushed open the door behind him; backing into the other apartment just as Simon de Montfort, Earl of

At the same instant a scream rang out behind Norman of Torn, and, turning, he faced a brightly lighted room

in which sat Eleanor, Queen of England, and another Eleanor, wife of Simon de Montfort, with their ladies.

There was no hiding now, and no escape; for run he would not, even had there been where to run. Slowly he

backed away from the door toward a corner, where with his back against a wall and a table at his right, he

might die as he had lived, fighting; for Norman of Torn knew that he could hope for no quarter from the men

With an army at their call it were an easy thing to take a lone man, even though that man were the Devil of

The King and De Montfort had now crossed the smaller apartment and were within the room where the

At the far side the group of royal and noble women stood huddled together, while behind De Montfort and

"What dost thou here, Norman of Torn?" cried De Montfort, angrily. "Where be my daughter, Bertrade?"

"I be here, My Lord Earl, to attend to mine own affairs," replied Norman of Torn, "which be the affair of no

other man. As to your daughter: I know nothing of her whereabouts. What should she have to do with the

Norman of Torn looked at the speaker, and beneath the visor that was now partly raised he saw the features of

He had never expected love from this hard old man, but treachery and harm from himno, he could not

believe it, one of them must have gone mad; but why Flory's armor, where was the faithful Flory?

"Father!" he ejaculated, "leadest thou the hated English King against thine own son?"

"Thou be no son of mine, Norman of Torn," retorted the old man. "Thy days of usefulness to me be past;

tonight thou serve me best swinging from a wooden gibbet. Take him, My Lord Earl; they say there be a

"Yes," was the reply, "when this floor be ankle deep in English blood and my heart has ceased to beat; then

"Have at him, then," ordered the Earl, turning toward the waiting menatarms, none of whom seemed

But an officer of the guard set them the example, and so they pushed forward in a body toward Norman of

There was no play now for the Outlaw of Torn; it was grim battle and his only hope that he might take a

And so he fought as he never fought before, to kill as many and as quickly as he might. And to those who

watched it was as though the young officer of the Guard had not come within reach of that terrible blade ere

he lay dead upon the floor, and then the point of death passed into the lungs of one of the menatarms,

The soldiers fell back momentarily, awed by the frightful havoc of that mighty arm. Before De Mont fort

could urge them on to renew the attack a girlish figure clothed in a long riding cloak burst through the little

With a low cry of mingled rage and indignation Bertrade de Montfort threw herself before the Devil of Torn,

and facing the astonished company of king, prince, nobles and soldiers drew herself to her full height, and

with all the pride of race and blood that was her right of heritage from a French king on her father's side and

an English king on her mother's, she flashed her defiance and contempt in the single word:

"What means this, girl?" demanded De Montfort, "Art gone stark mad? Know thou that this fellow be the

"If I had not before known it, My Lord," she replied haughtily, "it would be plain to me now as I see forty

cowards hesitating to attack a lone man. What other man in all England could stand thus against forty? A lion

"Thou lov'st this low born cutthroat, Bertrade," cried Henry. "Thou, a De Montfort, the daughter of my

sister; who have seen this murderer's accursed mark upon the foreheads of thy kin; thou have seen him flaunt

his defiance in the King's, thy uncle's, face, and bend his whole life to preying upon thy people; thou lov'st

"Thou lov'st him, Bertrade?" asked Philip of France in a low tone, pressing nearer to the girl.

"Yes, Philip," she said, a little note of sadness and finality in her voice; but her eyes met his squarely and

Instantly the sword of the young Prince leaped from its scabbard, and facing De Montfort and the others he

"That she loves him be enough for me to know, my gentlemen," he said. "Who takes the man Bertrade de

"No, thou must not do this thing, my friend," he said. "It be my fight and I will fight it alone. Go, I beg of

As they argued Simon de Montfort and the King had spoken together, and at a word from the former the

soldiers rushed suddenly to the attack again. It was a cowardly strategem, for they knew that the two could

not fight with the girl between them and their ad versaries. And thus, by weight of numbers, they took

Bertrade de Montfort and the Prince away from Nor man of Torn without a blow being struck, and then the

"There be but one sword in all England, nay in all the world that can, alone, take Norman of Torn," he said,

addressing the King, "and that sword be mine; keep thy cattle back, out of my way." And, without waiting for

a reply, the grim, gray man sprang in to engage him whom for twenty years he had called son.

Norman of Torn came out of his corner to meet his newfound enemy, and there, in the apartment of the

Queen of England in the castle of Battel, was fought such a duel as no man there had ever seen before, nor is

The world's two greatest swordsmen: teacher and pupilthe one with the strength of a young bull, the other

with the cunning of an old gray fox; and both with a lifetime of training behind them, and the lust of blood

and hate before themthrust and parried and cut until those that gazed awestricken upon the mar vellous

Back and forth about the room they moved, while those who had come to kill pressed back to make room for

the contestants. Now was the young man forcing his older foeman more and more upon the defensive.

Slowly, but as sure as death, he was winning ever nearer and nearer to victory. The old man saw it too. He

had devoted years of his life to training that mighty sword arm that it might deal out death to others, and now;

ah! the grim justice of the retribution, he at last was to fall before its diabolical cunning.

He could not win in fair fight against Norman of Torn; that the wily Frenchman saw; but now that death was

so close upon him that he felt its cold breath condensing on his brow, he had no stomach to die, and so he

cast about for any means whereby he might es cape the result of his rash venture.

Presently he saw his opportunity. Norman of Torn stood beside the body of one of his earlier antagonists.

Slowly the old man worked around until the body lay directly behind the outlaw, and then with a final rally

and one great last burst of supreme swordsmanship, he rushed Norman of Torn back for a bare stepit was

enough; the outlaw's foot struck the prostrate corpse; he staggered, and for one brief instant his sword arm

rose, ever so little, as he strove to retain his equili brium; but that little was enough, it was what the gray old

snake had expected, and he was ready. Like lightning his sword shot through the opening, and, for the first

time in his life of continual combat and death, Norman of Torn felt cold steel tear his flesh. But ere he fell his

sword responded to the last fierce command of that iron will, and as his body sank limply to the floor, rolling

with outstretched arms, upon its back, the little, grim, gray man went down also, clutching frantically at a

For an instant the watchers stood as though petrified, and then Bertrade de Montfort, tearing herself from the

restraining hand of her father, rushed to the side of the lifeless body of the man she loved. Kneeling there

beside him she called his name aloud, as she unlaced his helm. Tearing the steel headgear from him she

"Oh God! Oh God!" she murmured. "Why hast thou taken him? Outlaw though he was, in his little finger was

more of honor, of chivalry, of true manhood than courses through the veins of all the nobles of England.

"I do not wonder that he preyed upon you," she cried, turning upon the knights behind her. "His life was

clean, thine be rotten; he was loyal to his friends and to the downtrodden, ye be traitors at heart, all; and ever

be ye trampling upon those who be down that they may sink deeper into the mud. Mon Dieu! How I hate

you," she finished. And as she spoke the words Bertrade de Montfort looked straight into the eyes of her

The old Earl turned his head, for at heart he was a brave, broad, kindly man, and he regretted what he had

"Come, child," said the King, "thou art distraught; thou sayest what thou mean not. The world is better that

this man be dead. He was an enemy of organized society, he preyed ever upon his fellows. Life in Eng land

will be safer after this day. Do not weep over the clay of a nameless adventurer who knew not his own

Some one had lifted the little, grim, gray, old man to a sitting posture. He was not dead. Occasionally he

coughed, and when he did his frame was racked with suffering, and blood flowed from his mouth and

At last they saw that he was trying to speak. Weakly he motioned toward the King. Henry came toward him.

"Thou hast won thy sovereign's gratitude, my man," said the King, kindly. "What be thy name?"

The old fellow tried to speak, but the effort brought on another paroxysm of coughing. At last he managed to

He stopped from very weakness, and then in another moment, with a final effort: "DeVac'srevenge.

The King had heard, and De Montfort and the Queen. 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.

The King knelt beside the still form, across the breast of which lay the unconscious body of Bertrade de

Mont fort. Gently he lifted her to the waiting arms of Philip of France, and then the King with his own

hands tore off the shirt of mail, and with trembling fingers ripped wide the tunic where it covered the left

The Queen had seen also, and with a little moan she sank beside the body of her second born, crying out:

"Oh Richard, my boy, my boy!" And as she bent still lower to kiss the lily mark upon the left breast of the

son she had not seen to know for over twenty years, she paused, and with frantic haste she pressed her ear to

Bertrade de Montfort had regained consciousness al most before Philip of France had raised her from the

floor, and she stood now, leaning on his arm, watching with wide, questioning eyes the strange scene being

Slowly the lids of Norman of Torn lifted with re turning consciousness. Before him, on her knees in the

blood spattered rushes of the floor, knelt Eleanor, Queen of England, alternately chafing and kissing his

A sore wound indeed to have brought on such a wild delirium, thought the Outlaw of Torn.

He felt his body, in a half sitting, half reclining posi tion, resting against one who knelt behind him, and as

he lifted his head to see whom it might be supporting him he looked into the eyes of the King, upon whose

Strange vagaries of a disordered brain! Yes it must have been a very terrible wound that the little old man of

Torn had given him; but why could he not dream that Bertrade de Montfort held him? And then his eyes

wandered about among the throng of ladies, nobles and soldiers standing uncovered and with bowed heads

"I be very real, dear heart," she answered, "and these others be real, also. When thou art stronger, thou shalt

understand the strange thing that has happened. These who wert thine enemies, Norman of Torn, be thy best

friends nowthat thou should know, so that thou may rest in peace until thou be better."

They bore him to a cot in an apartment next the Queen's, and all that night the mother and the prom ised

wife of the Outlaw of Torn sat bathing his fevered forehead. The King's chirurgeon was there also, while the

And it is ever thus; whether in hovel or palace; in the days of Moses, or in the days that be ours; the lamb that

Toward morning Norman of Torn fell into a quiet and natural sleep; the fever and delirium had suc cumbed

before his perfect health and iron constitution. The chirurgeon turned to the Queen and Bertrade de Montfort.

Late that afternoon he awoke, and no amount of persuasion or commands on the part of the King's chirurgeon

"There be one without whose right it be to explain that to thee," replied the chirurgeon, "and when thou be

The chirurgeon aided him to dress, and, opening the door, he spoke to a sentry who stood just without. The

sentry transmitted the message to a young squire who was waiting there, and presently the door was thrown

Norman of Torn looked up in unfeigned surprise, and then there came back to him the scene in the Queen's

apartment the night before. It was all a sore perplexity to him; he could not fathom it, nor did he attempt to.

And now, as in a dream, he saw the Queen of Eng land coming toward him across the small room, her arms

"Richard, my son!" exclaimed Eleanor, coming to him and taking his face in her hands and kissing him.

When she had finished, he knelt at her feet, taking her hand in his and raising it to his lips.

"I did not know, Madame," he said, "or never would my sword have been bared in other service than thine. If

"Take it not so hard, my son," said Eleanor of Eng land, "it be no fault of thine, and there be nothing to

forgive; only happiness and rejoicing should we feel, now that thou be found again."

"Forgiveness!" said a man's voice behind them. "For sooth, it be we that should ask forgiveness; hunting

"Any but a fool might have known that it was no base born knave who sent the King's army back, naked to

"By all the saints, Richard, thou be every inch a King's son, an' though we made sour faces at the time, we be

The Queen and the outlaw had turned at the first words to see the King standing behind them, and now

"They be sorry jokes, Sire," he said. "Methinks it had been better had Richard remained lost. It will do the

honor of the Plantagenets but little good to acknowl edge the Outlaw of Torn as a prince of the blood."

But they would not have it so, and it remained for a later King of England to wipe the great name from the

Presently the King and Queen, adding their pleas to those of the chirurgeon, prevailed upon him to lie down

once more, and when he had done so they left him, that he might sleep again; but no sooner had the door

It was by chance that, in a deep set window, he found her for whom he was searching. She sat looking

wistfully into space, an expression half sad upon her beautiful face. She did not see him as he approached,

and he stood there for several moments watching her dear profile, and the rising and falling of her bosom

over that true and loyal heart that had beaten so proud ly against all the power of a mighty throne for the

He did not speak, but presently that strange, subtile sixth sense which warns us that we are not alone, though

With a little cry she arose, and then, curtsying low after the manner of the court, said:

"What would My Lord Richard, Prince of England, of his poor subject?" And then, more gravely, "My Lord,

I have been raised at court, and I understand that a prince does not wed rashly, and so let us forget what

"Prince Richard of England will in no wise disturb royal precedents," he replied, "for he will wed not rashly,

but most wisely, since he will wed none but Bertrade de Montfort." And he who had been the Outlaw of Torn

took the fair young girl in his arms, adding: "If she still loves me, now that I be a prince?"

"It was not the outlaw that I loved, Richard, nor be it the prince I love now; it be all the same to me, prince or