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 driving storm.
"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 pressed on toward Stutevill.
Some two miles beyond the spot where the white palfrey had been found, they came upon the dead bodies of the five knights who had accompanied Bertrade from Stutevill.
Dismounting, Henry de Montfort examined the bodies of the fallen men.The arms upon shield and helm confirmed his first fear that these had been Bertrade's escort from Stutevill.
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 spurred back toward Torn.
When Bertrade de Montfort regained her senses, she was in bed in a strange room, and above her bent an old woman; a repulsive, toothless old woman, whose smile was but a fangless snarl.
"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 mantling his beauteous countenance.""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 hopelessness.
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 counter-balanced by the fact that she was the daughter of Simon de Montfort, whom he feared and hated.
In the corridor without, she heard the heavy tramp of approaching feet, and presently a man's voice at the door.
"Within there, Coll ! Hast the damsel awakened from her swoon ?""Yes, Sir Peter," replied the old woman, "I was but just urging her to arise and clothe herself, saying that you awaited her below.""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 conversation, but the girl would not talk.Her whole mind was devoted to weighing each possible means of escape.
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, unglazed windows beyond which lay *******.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 Colfax.
A single cresset lighted the chamber, while the flickering light from a small wood fire upon one of the two great hearths seemed rather to accentuate the dim shadows of the place.
Bertrade crossed the room and leaned against a massive 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 applause by the lay of some wandering minstrel, or the sterner call of their mighty chieftains for the oath of fealty.
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 interspread with such bones and scraps of food as the dogs had rejected or overlooked.
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 encounter 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 entered, 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 he halted, rattling his sword to attract her attention.
