"Admit him not, upon thy life, till we be prepared for him," said
Wilkin. "Bend the bonny mangonel upon the place, and shoot him if
he dare to stir from the spot where he stands till we get all
prepared to receive him," said Flammock in his native language.
"And, Neil, thou houndsfoot, bestir thyself--let every pike,
lance, and pole in the castle be ranged along the battlements, and
pointed through the shot-holes--cut up some tapestry into the
shape of banners, and show them from the highest towers.--Be ready
when I give a signal, to strike _naker_, [Footnote:
_Naker_,--Drum. ] and blow trumpets, if we have any; if not,
some cow-horns--anything for a noise. And hark ye, Neil Hansen, do
you, and four or five of your fellows, go to the armoury and slip
on coats-of-mail; our Netherlandish corslets do not appal them so
much. Then let the Welsh thief be blindfolded and brought in
amongst us--Do you hold up your heads and keep silence--leave me
to deal with him--only have a care there be no English among us."
The monk, who in his travels had acquired some slight knowledge of
the Flemish language, had well-nigh started when he heard the last
article in Wilkin's instructions to his countryman, but commanded
himself, although a little surprised, both at this suspicious
circumstance, and at the readiness and dexterity with which the
rough-hewn Fleming seemed to adapt his preparations to the rules
of war and of sound policy.
Wilkin, on his part, was not very certain whether the monk had not
heard and understood more of what he said to his countryman, than
what he had intended. As if to lull asleep any suspicion which
Father Aldrovand might entertain, he repeated to him in English
most of the directions which he had given, adding, "Well, good
father, what think you of it?"
"Excellent well," answered the father, "and done as if you had
practised war from the cradle, instead of weaving broad-cloth."
"Nay, spare not your jibes, father," answered Wilkin.--"I know
full well that you English think that Flemings have nought in
their brainpan but sodden beef and cabbage; yet you see there goes
wisdom to weaving of webs."
"Right, Master Wilkin Flammock," answered the father; "but, good
Fleming, wilt thou tell me what answer thou wilt make to the Welsh
Prince's summons?"
"Reverend father, first tell me what the summons will be," replied
the Fleming.
"To surrender this castle upon the instant," answered the monk.
"What will be your reply?"
"My answer will be, Nay--unless upon good composition."
"How, Sir Fleming! dare you mention composition and the castle of
the Garde Doloureuse in one sentence?" said the monk.
"Not if I may do better," answered the Fleming. "But would your
reverence have me dally until the question amongst the garrison
be, whether a plump priest or a fat Fleming will be the better
flesh to furnish their shambles?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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