A March on London: Being a Story of Wat Tyler's InsurrectionHenty, G. A. (George Alfred)
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A March on London: Being a Story of Wat Tyler's Insurrection
Henty, G. A. (George Alfred)
Tyler's Insurrection, 1381 -- Juvenile fiction
"The street is all clear," he said; "except half a dozen fellows
watching in front of the house we have left, there is not a soul in
sight." The others joined him, closing the door silently behind them.
They had not put on their shoes again, so with noiseless steps they
crossed the street and turned up the one that had been indicated by Sir
Robert. After going a few paces they stopped, put on their shoes, and
then walked boldly along. When they reached the end of the street three
figures came out from a deep doorway to meet them.
"Is all well?" one asked.
This was the signal that had been agreed upon.
"All is well, Sir Robert. We have escaped without any difficulty or
aught going wrong."
"The saints be praised!" the knight ejaculated. "These with me are Sir
Oliver Drafurn and Sir Francois Regnault."
"Right glad we are, knights," one of them said, "that we can assist in
giving you your freedom. A foul shame indeed would it have been had two
such gallant fighters been massacred by this rascally mob, after
yielding themselves to a knight."
"Truly, sirs, we are greatly beholden to you," Edgar replied, "and
trust that an occasion may occur in which we may repay to some of your
countrymen the great service you are now rendering us."
They had gone but a short distance further when the door of a tavern
opened and twelve or fifteen half-drunken soldiers poured out.
"Whom have we here?" one of them shouted. "Faith, if they are burghers
they must pay for being thus late in the streets."
"Silence, knaves," Sir Francois Regnault said, sternly. "What mean ye
by this roystering? Disperse to your quarters at once, or by St. James,
some of you shall hang in the morning, as a lesson to others that the
burgesses of Ypres are not to be insulted by drunken revellers."
As by this time the speaker had moved on into the light that streamed
through the open door, the soldier saw at once that it was a knight,
and, muttering excuses, went hastily down the street. No one else was
encountered until they reached the foot of the wall. Here Sir Robert
took a hearty farewell of them. The two knights first mounted the steps
to the wall.
As they reached the top a sentry close by challenged.
"France," Sir Oliver replied; "and, hark ye, make no noise. I am Sir
Oliver Drafurn, and I am here with Sir Francois Regnault to pass three
messengers over the wall, bearers of important dispatches. We do not
wish the news to get abroad, so take your halbert and march up and
down."
Hal Carter had brought one of the ropes, twisted round him for the
purpose.
"You are on the side facing the English camp," Sir Oliver said. "Those
are the lights that you see ahead. You will have three ditches to swim,
and will find it cold work, but there is no other way for it."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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