Chapter XXIII: Three Chevrons Gules

When the Knights had gone Raynor Royk, having posted guards at the three doors, turned the broken chair over with his foot and sitting down on one of the fragments so that he could observe the entire room, fell to polishing his dagger.

The Abbot watched him furtively for a space, then arose.

"Are you of De Lacy's or De Bury's household?" he asked with condescending friendliness.

No answer.

"You hear? I asked if De Bury or De Lacy were your master."

No answer; and the polishing went vigorously on.

"Are you deaf?" the monk exclaimed angrily, and prod the old retainer with his foot.

The next moment the air was full of flying arms and legs and sandals and fluttering robes; and when it cleared Aldam was lying in a heap on the floor--and Raynor Royk was working on his dagger, as placidly as though it were a common enough act with him to seize the foot of a mitred Abbot and whirl him backward to the earth.

And the look of mingled fury and pain on the monk's face when, shaking off the assisting hands of the Prior and the Chancellor, he struggled to his feet, would have made a less hardened soldier feel a bit uneasy as to the fate of his soul. But without so much as a glance at the furious churchman, Raynor returned the dagger to its sheath and went to work on his sword blade.

Never in all the years of his life had the stern Aldam been so crossed and flouted as within this last hour. Speechless with rage, with clenched hands and heaving breast, he paced the dais. And the monks in fresh terror huddled closer together, and told their beads anew and muttered prayer on prayer. Verily, was it a gloomy day for the Cistercians of Kirkstall Abbey; and one sadly unpropitious to those lay brothers whose initiatory rites had been so rudely interrupted.

Presently the Abbot's face grew calmer and he began to prolong gradually his steps toward the rear of the platform, where the wall stones were very large and stood out rough and bare. There he would pause and lean against them as though for rest, his head bent slightly forward, his eyes closed--a figure of dejection deep and heavy. Yet it might have been noticed that he always rested at the same place, and could eyes have pierced his white robe, they would have seen his slender fingers playing with careful pressure over the wall beside him.

At length it happened--when the soldiers had grown accustomed to his pacings and had ceased to watch him, and while Raynor Royk was busy with his sword work, his head bent low--that Aldam halted at the wall and leaned against it in his usual way; and as he did so the huge stone he touched swung back noiselessly, he glided swiftly through the opening and the stone closed back into its place.

An excited exclamation by the Prior caused Raynor Royk to look up. Instantly he missed the Abbot. With a shout he sprang over and seized the Chancellor, who happened to be nearest.

"The Abbot? The Abbot?" he demanded fiercely.

"I know not," the monk stammered, staring about. "I saw him last by yonder wall."

The old soldier loosed him straightway and turned upon the Prior.

"Speak," he thundered, "where is the Abbot?"

Father James stepped forward. "He went through the wall," he said.

"What! thou shaveling! Do you take me for a superstitious fool? Through yonder stones! Think you I believe such nonsense?"

"That you believe or disbelieve concerns me not at all," the Prior answered. "Nathless, through that wall he went, for with my own eyes I saw a part of it roll back and him pass in."

Raynor crossed to the spot in a single bound and fell to pounding with his sword hilt. But only a monotonously dull sound answered to the blows.

"Do you know this hidden door, or whither it leads?"

"Methinks I can answer for myself and all my brothers," said the Prior. "There are certain secret passages in the Abbey which none but our ruler ever knows. Doubtless this is one of them."

"Beware, Sir Monk!" Raynor exclaimed, striding over and glaring down upon him. "If you lie to aid your Abbot you shall hang instead of him."

The Prior crossed himself devoutly. "Holy St. Benedict, be my witness, I speak truth. Nor do we love the Abbot Aldam well enough to shield him at danger to ourselves."

The veteran regarded him keenly for a moment. "I am prone to believe you," he said; "for I myself know something of this Aldam. Yet here is one who will need the convincing," as Sir Aymer de Lacy entered suddenly. And behind him came an archer with a coil of rope.

"Seize the Abbot!" the Knight commanded as he crossed the threshold. . . "Ho, Raynor! Since when are you afraid to touch a Priest? Seize him, I say."

The old soldier advanced and saluted.

"The Abbot has escaped," he said.

"What!--Escaped!--Hell and Furies!" De Lacy cried, and sprang at him with arm raised to strike. But instantly the anger passed; and instead of a blow, his hand fell kindly upon Royk's shoulder. "How did it happen?" he asked. "It was through some trick, I warrant, and by no fault of yours."

"I thank your lordship," Raynor answered, with another salute. "The Abbot escaped by a secret passage in yonder wall when my eyes were not upon him. This monk saw the stone open and close," and he pointed to the Prior.

De Lacy eyed Father James sharply, then nodded for him to speak.

At the end, he sent Royk to make another search of the entire Abbey, and himself turned his attention to the wall. But though he tried pressure both light and heavy and in all possible positions and combinations the stone stood firm.

"Is this the first time you have seen this passage opened?" he asked.

"It is, my lord; this or any other of its kind. It is a violation of the Abbot's vows to use the secret ways in presence of another."

"Do you think he never violated them before?"

The monk shook his head. "Save possibly for certain damsels, I think not; he never before had such occasion. Yet I will inquire. . . Brothers!" he cried, "if there be any among you who knows the trick of this hidden door or whither it leads, I enjoin him, in the name of the blessed Benedict and as the ranking officer in this Chapter, that has not yet been dissolved, to reveal the same."

The monks whispered among themselves. Then one stood forth.

"There is none among us who knows the secret, most reverend Prior," he answered.

"You hear, sir?" said Father James.

De Lacy nodded. "Yet I must trouble you to answer me a little further. Do you know this glove and kerchief? I found them in the room next to the Abbot's."

The Prior took them and after a glance held them inquiringly toward the Chancellor and Father Albert; but each disclaimed all knowledge.

"I fear me, sir, we cannot help you. . . Women are not unknown in the Abbot's quarters; yet none of us has ever seen them close enough to know them. It is thought he uses for them one of the secret passages which opens somewhere beyond the Abbey walls. Leastwise, you may be assured no one has ever ventured to refer thereto in the holy Aldam's hearing. So, my lord, these articles might belong to any of a dozen demoiselles--with religious inclinations," and he chuckled. . . "Yet--here is a cognizance upon the kerchief which may tell much to one acquainted with escutcheons. It is three chevrons gules, I take it."

"They are the arms of Clare, and the Countess is its heiress," said De Lacy.

"Then she you seek has, indeed, been here!"

"And is here still, though I have failed to find her."

"Nay--methinks not. There have been no gentle ones with his reverence these last five days."

"You are sure of that?"

The Prior's broad face expanded in a grin. "Well, sir, you see we have thought it good to keep a religious eye upon our worthy head."

De Lacy drew off his steel gauntlet.

"See you this ring?" he said, holding up the Boar. "In the name of the King I promise you, Sir Prior, the Abbotcy of Kirkstall, and your good fellows each a grade in rank, if you will aid me to capture this Aldam and to recover the Countess of Clare."

Father James's face flushed slightly at the prospect, and the Sub-prior and the Chancellor drew nearer in sudden interest.

"It is a tempting offer," the Prior said; "yet though you promised us all the red hat of a Prince Cardinal, we could give you no more assistance than we have already done. Nathless, fair sir, we shall do whatever lies in our power."

"It is a bargain. When the Abbot is a prisoner or the lady saved, the new dignities are yours . . . Monks of Kirkstall, harken!" he cried to those upon the benches. "For inasmuch as Aldam, Abbot of Kirkstall Abbey, has aided and abetted the enemies of his lawful Sovereign and has furthered and assisted the abductors of the Countess of Clare, Maid-in-waiting to Her Majesty; now, I, Aymer de Lacy, Knight of the Body, under the authority vested in me by this signet and in the name of the King, do hereby publicly degrade and remove the said Aldam from his office and do absolve and release every and all of you from any obligation or duty to him. And further, whosoever shall offer him comfort or sustenance shall be deemed and held traitor and shall suffer death. Heed and obey."

The Prior sprang to the front of the dais.

"Long live the King!" he shouted.

And the monks, wild with joy at release from their hard master, jumped on the benches crying:

"Long live the Royal Richard! Long live the King!"