A Gentleman-at-Arms: Being Passages in the Life of Sir Christopher Rudd, KnightStrang, Herbert
History
A Gentleman-at-Arms: Being Passages in the Life of Sir Christopher Rudd, Knight
Strang, Herbert
Adventure stories; Great Britain -- History -- Elizabeth, 1558-1603 -- Juvenile fiction
When we were come to the waterside, a man met me from the jetty, and
speaking in the English of a five-years’ bairn, invited me to enter the
wherry. This I did, with my own men and some of those that were with
us, and we were ferried over the lake, and into the castle by the
water-gate, through a covered way that led from the lake into the
courtyard.
Alighting from the wherry and ascending some few ragged stone steps, I
found myself in the courtyard amid a strange medley of beasts and men.
There were cattle, swine, and poultry enclosed in tumbledown pens, and
set against the walls were rude cabins of wood overlaid with turfs,
which I supposed to be the dwellings of serving men and retainers. Of
mankind there were in the courtyard about a score, men, women and
children, the men being for the greater part well stricken in years.
All these folk gazed upon me as you see peasants gaze at quaint
outlandish monsters in a country fair. My men were taken, by command
already given, into one of the cabins aforesaid; but I myself was
ushered through a postern into the keep, and up a winding stair to a
chamber barely furnished with a stool and a truckle bed, whereon was
laid in a heap a suit of woollen garments. These I donned with much
contentment in exchange for my own sodden and miry raiment, a man
standing at the door with his back to me all the time, a courtesy I
little expected in such savages. When I was dry clad he conducted me
down the stairs into a lofty and spacious hall, where food of the
English sort was spread upon a table. With this I was mightily
refreshed and strengthened, for hard fortune had not bereft me of
appetite, though I acknowledge my satisfaction was tempered by the
recollection that I who had fought in campaigns with the greatest
captains of the age had fallen an inglorious victim to a handful of wild
Irish kernes.
Some while after the remains of my repast had been removed, and I was
drumming my heels alone and in idleness, the door opened, and the maiden
entered, and with her an old and withered dame of forbidding aspect and
mien. A smile flickered upon the maiden’s countenance as she beheld me,
clad in coarse and ill-fitting garments, making my bow as courtly as to
a queen.
"Our fare is poorer than I could wish," she said, "but ’tis our
necessity at fault, not our good will."
"I thank you, mistress," said I, "and would fain beg that the same fare
may be provided for my men, one of whom, I fear, was somewhat incommoded
in the late misadventure."
"Their wants are supplied, sir," quoth she coldly; "and as for you, I
desire that you will rest in such comfort as our poor means and the
straitness of our dwelling may afford."
"In troth, mistress," said I, "I have known worse quarters and leaner
fare; but desiring that you be at no more pains or charges in my behoof,
I purpose with your leave to get me hence with all commendable speed as
soon as my garments are dried, not forgetting that I owe my life to
you."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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