WILLIAM FITZ-OSBERT.

Nelson Evening Mail, Volume VI, Issue 69, 22 March 1871, Page 2

WILLIAM FITZ-OSBERT.

A STORY OF LONDON LIFE LN THE DATS OF RICHARD CCEUR DE LION. From the Family Friend. A man named Harold and three lazy retainers formed the only guard of the party, and these did not seem inclined to attempt any vigorous feat of valor. The women, shrieking, and praying, clung round their mistress, while Harold and his men reluctantly obeyed Mary's command to advance ■within arrow-shot of the outlaws and demand- their purpose. No sooner did they get within range than a dozen arrows whiz-

zed about their ears, and turning their horses' heads tbey vode off at full speed, and left the party of women'at the mercy of the ruffians, who now raised a shout of triumph, and eagerly hurried forward to their work of brutality and plunder. Conspicuous among the crowd of savage-looking men Maty observed one of extraordinary dimensions. He seemed fiercer and more eager than any of his followers. His head had a natural covering of coarse red hair, and in his right hand he carried a short but heavy axe. On this man she fixed her gaze as she disengaged herself from the women who were clinging hysterically around her, and drew from her girdle a small bright poignard, Tho ruffian, instead o( attempting to molest the women, turned suddenly aside and began to examine the contents of the small wagon which carried Mary's wardrobe, &c. In an instant Mary dashed up to him, and her dagger was within an inch of his breast. Her face was flushed with excitement, and her large dark eyes flashed with anger. So utterly regardless was the rogue of aught but the plunder that ho might have received his quietus then and there had Mary possessed the strength of

heart and hand to carry out ,her first impulse. * A strange feeling of horror seized her as she thought of spilling the fellow's blood. She hesitated; and gripping her hand, he - snatched the little weapon from her delicate fingers iv an instant. "- : ~-~- : --^--~^_. "He, he, hee!" laughed the fellow savagely. "You ought to be in Prince John's garrison at Nottingham. They want soldiers that cau fight." Mary made no reply, for a rough hand seized her by the shoulder and dragged her away. She and her attendants were now surrounded by the outlaws, who, with coarse jests and threats, forced them to relinquish every article of value. In vain Mary looked round for help. There was neither sigu nor sound to give her hope bA succour. "What shaU we do with this precious booty, Capf-aiu?" said one of the men to Armstrong, for it was he who was busy ransacking the wagon. "Leave them where they are," was the abrupi reply, aud the speaker went on with the task of tossing the various articles about and extracting the valuables from what would have been to him useless lumber. Mary was burning with indignation at the sight .of her wardrobe being thus destroyed, and at the insulting familiarity of the men who were standing round. "You are a base coward," she excbiimed, addressing herself to Armstrong. "I shaH remember your evil face again, and you shaH pay dearly for this!" "Remember me again, will you?" said Armstrong, with a slight start. "I fear then we must gag your unpleasant memory. Baldwin, secure that little' fury." The man addressed stepped forward, and was about to seize Mary, but suddenly jumped back with a yell of pain. An arrow had pierced him between the shoulders. All was confusion instantly. Wheugh-thut— wheugh— thut— wheugh — thut — came the arrows one after another, and three of the outlaws fell in succession, groaning and writhing with agony. Armstrong lingered a few moments to grasp the heap of treasures which he had been so careful in selecting, but those moments were sufficient to put a long distance between him and his flying comrades. A party of horsemen dashed from a neighboring thicket, and their leader took a sweep round so as to cut off Armstrong from his companions. The armourer quickly perceived the difficulty in which he was placed, and drawing a ponderous sword that hung by his side from a broad belt of rough hide, he gripped the long handle firmly with both hands, and boldly sprang forward at the horseman. "After them!" cried the foremost rider, who appeared to be a person of distinction. "Leave this rogue to rue." His followers obeyed him without hesitation, and overtaking the retreating outlaws, were soon engaged in a fierce hand to hand encounter. Mary and- .her attendants stood in a group, trembling -with suspense, and half terrified at the shouts and imprecations, the groans and shrieks of the furious combatants, as blow followed blow in rapid succession. In the meantime Armstrong had raised his long two-handed sword, and was about to aim a tremendous blow at the head of his opponent's charger, when his huge arms appeared suddenly to relax, and he staggered back paralysed with a strange fear. "Ah — you know me, scoundrel!" cried Sir Hugh, for he it was who had come thus opportunely to the rescue. "Yield thee now, or by the good St. Edmund thy ugly head shall roll at thy feet." "Never!" cried Armstrong, recovering himself from the shock of surprise, and dealing a heavy blow at Sir Hugh's horse that brought both horse and rider to the ground. Sir Hugh disengaged himself instantly, and was only just in time to ward off a second blow aimed at his head. He knew that to close with so powerful an an- . tagonist as Armstrong would be instant defeat, and so he leapt back several paces and resolved to trust to his sword. Both were skilled in the use of their long and formidable weapon, and round and round they darted > strikiug and warding with a violence that tested to the utmost the temper of the steel. Neither seemed to gain an advantage, although there was a marked difference in their bearing. Armstrong rushed at his antagonist mad with fury, and Sir Hugh baffled his desperate onsets with the coolness and uudaunted confidence of one to whom such an encounter was nornovelty. Mary fell upon her knees pale »witk terror, and burying her face in her hands, offered up a hurried but fervent prayer- to* Heaven for the safety of Sir Hugh. It was becoming a question of endurance, for both were equally matched in agility and perfect command of their weapons. The great strength of Armstrong might under these circumstances have prevailed, but for the superior coolness of his adversary. The ground was torn up by their feet, and the woods -were" still echoing with their iSows, when the,

sound of approaching horsemen caused Armstrong to glance behind him, and to his dismay he beheld Sir Hugh's companions returning from the pursuit and advancing to the succour of their leader More desperate than ever, he rushed at Sir Hugh, and contrived by a daring risk to close with him. Sir Hugh flung away his now useless sword and giipped the giaut by the throat, causing his eyes to start aud his face to blacken with suffocation. Armstrong had managed, however, to raise Sir Hugh from tbe ground, and was preparing to fling him down, when he heard a mocking voice close to his ear — " Thou wantest wind — hero's a blow that'll make thee blow more freely." With a wild shriek, that lent the air, Armstrong released his hold of Sir Hugh, and, bending backwards, fell groaning and writhing to the earth. "Kick about, kick about, my most excellent fellow," cried Walrick the fool, who had plunged his long dagger into the armourer's side. "The end fonvith thou didst come was to steal, and by steel thou hast come to thy end." Sir Hugh looked at the dying man with stern indifference, but his heart was not without a large share of tenderness, and he felt a momentary pang of regret that his enemy had fallen by a treacherous thrust from behind, and not in fair battle. "Cease your senseless jesting," he exclaimed, addressing Walrick somewhat irritably. "He is dying; his fate, poor wretch, is scaled — how hard he dies!" "A hard die maketh a sure seal, my lord," said Walrick, with great gravity. Sir Hugh was in no humor to listen to the prattling of his fool, and he turned away to see after the unfortunate persons whom he had rescued from the outlaws. "Permit me, Sir Knight," said Mary, partially concealing her facs with, her mantle, "to offer you, on behalf of 'myself and my attendants, our mo^tr hearffelt thanks for the gallant servicfc you have done us. But for the bravery of yourself and followers we must have lost all our property, and possibly our lives." " Most gracious ladj'," replied Sir Hugh, "we have done nought to deserve such special thanks. We hold it our duty to defend our good king's subjects from the miscreants who harass and disturb his kingdom. With your permission, I will order my men to replace your goods in the wagon, and as your escort appears to have deserted you in the hour of peril, we will bear you company to a place of safety. Whither were you bound?" "We were on the road to Norwich," said Mary; "but I pray, Sir Knight, that you will not delay your own journey for tbe protection of so humble a person as myself." "I, too, am on my way to Norwich," answered Sir Hugh, with a start. "Pardon me gentle lady, but ydtir'.yoice is wonderfully familiar to my 'ear. '*•-■• Mary made no reply. NSir Hugh looked round, and recognised her attendants. "Mary de Lawnford," he exclaimed, extending his hand, "have you forgotten me?" "Have you not rather forgotton me?" answered Mary, no longer attempting to conceal her facV "I have not forgotten you entirely, Mary, but then the events which have occurred since my return to this country have torn me from all the pleasant associations of the past. Far from forgetting you, I have often remembered with regret your sudden departure from Danedred Tower. I could not be totally unconscious of the unchivalrous abruptness with which I accepted your generous greeting on my return; but my heart was heavy with, a-^re^at trouble at the time, and I was utteiw* incapable of the smallest act of courtesy." * "Courtesy!" thought Mary. Had she only looked for courtesy how much suffering might she have been spared! It was j with difficulty she concealed the pain that that one word caused; it expressed so plainly Sir Hugh's sentiments, and his perfect ignorance of the long dream of lovfc from which she had so cruelly awakerieil. It was evident that what she had cherished as a great reality had only been regarded by him as a boyish flirtation. Her heart sank within her as she looked timidly into his handsome face, and read there the perfect absence of any deeper feelings than those of courteous friendship. "I beg, Sir Hugh," she replied, "that you will not allow any thought of that unhappy time to distress you on my account. I did not know the cause of your trouble, nor is it 1 jjtely that my sympathy would have been any service to you." "Why my pretty cousin," said Sir Hugh, anxious to change the topic, and looking into Mary's pale face, "these ruffians have alarmed you I fear; or have you been doing penance with fastings and vigils, for the protection of some absent loyjaßH|, Mary made an excuse fjsifl|^HHK&p3sL appearance, and Sir HughsHH^HfiSw give instructions for the con^jHSSSB journey. "Walrick, see that fflHHfl^B those rascally outlaws are carriea^HHHH to tbe nearest village. We have^HHH "this hundred a heavy amercement."