Waverley, Ivanhoe & Rob Roy (Illustrated Edition). Walter Scott
so devoutly but what thy thirty zecchins may yet escape, if thou deal uprightly with us. Meantime render up thy trust for a time.” So saying, he took from Gurth’s breast the large leathern pouch, in which the purse given him by Rebecca was enclosed, as well as the rest of the zecchins, and then continued his interrogation. — “Who is thy master?”
“The Disinherited Knight,” said Gurth.
“Whose good lance,” replied the robber, “won the prize in to-day’s tourney? What is his name and lineage?”
“It is his pleasure,” answered Gurth, “that they be concealed; and from me, assuredly, you will learn nought of them.”
“What is thine own name and lineage?”
“To tell that,” said Gurth, “might reveal my master’s.”
“Thou art a saucy groom,” said the robber, “but of that anon. How comes thy master by this gold? is it of his inheritance, or by what means hath it accrued to him?”
“By his good lance,” answered Gurth. — “These bags contain the ransom of four good horses, and four good suits of armour.”
“How much is there?” demanded the robber.
“Two hundred zecchins.”
“Only two hundred zecchins!” said the bandit; “your master hath dealt liberally by the vanquished, and put them to a cheap ransom. Name those who paid the gold.”
Gurth did so.
“The armour and horse of the Templar Brian de Bois-Guilbert, at what ransom were they held? — Thou seest thou canst not deceive me.”
“My master,” replied Gurth, “will take nought from the Templar save his life’s-blood. They are on terms of mortal defiance, and cannot hold courteous intercourse together.”
“Indeed!” — repeated the robber, and paused after he had said the word. “And what wert thou now doing at Ashby with such a charge in thy custody?”
“I went thither to render to Isaac the Jew of York,” replied Gurth, “the price of a suit of armour with which he fitted my master for this tournament.”
“And how much didst thou pay to Isaac? — Methinks, to judge by weight, there is still two hundred zecchins in this pouch.”
“I paid to Isaac,” said the Saxon, “eighty zecchins, and he restored me a hundred in lieu thereof.”
“How! what!” exclaimed all the robbers at once; “darest thou trifle with us, that thou tellest such improbable lies?”
“What I tell you,” said Gurth, “is as true as the moon is in heaven. You will find the just sum in a silken purse within the leathern pouch, and separate from the rest of the gold.”
“Bethink thee, man,” said the Captain, “thou speakest of a Jew — of an Israelite, — as unapt to restore gold, as the dry sand of his deserts to return the cup of water which the pilgrim spills upon them.”
“There is no more mercy in them,” said another of the banditti, “than in an unbribed sheriffs officer.”
“It is, however, as I say,” said Gurth.
“Strike a light instantly,” said the Captain; “I will examine this said purse; and if it be as this fellow says, the Jew’s bounty is little less miraculous than the stream which relieved his fathers in the wilderness.”
A light was procured accordingly, and the robber proceeded to examine the purse. The others crowded around him, and even two who had hold of Gurth relaxed their grasp while they stretched their necks to see the issue of the search. Availing himself of their negligence, by a sudden exertion of strength and activity, Gurth shook himself free of their hold, and might have escaped, could he have resolved to leave his master’s property behind him. But such was no part of his intention. He wrenched a quarter-staff from one of the fellows, struck down the Captain, who was altogether unaware of his purpose, and had well-nigh repossessed himself of the pouch and treasure. The thieves, however, were too nimble for him, and again secured both the bag and the trusty Gurth.
“Knave!” said the Captain, getting up, “thou hast broken my head; and with other men of our sort thou wouldst fare the worse for thy insolence. But thou shalt know thy fate instantly. First let us speak of thy master; the knight’s matters must go before the squire’s, according to the due order of chivalry. Stand thou fast in the meantime — if thou stir again, thou shalt have that will make thee quiet for thy life — Comrades!” he then said, addressing his gang, “this purse is embroidered with Hebrew characters, and I well believe the yeoman’s tale is true. The errant knight, his master, must needs pass us toll-free. He is too like ourselves for us to make booty of him, since dogs should not worry dogs where wolves and foxes are to be found in abundance.”
“Like us?” answered one of the gang; “I should like to hear how that is made good.”
“Why, thou fool,” answered the Captain, “is he not poor and disinherited as we are? — Doth he not win his substance at the sword’s point as we do? — Hath he not beaten Front-de-Boeuf and Malvoisin, even as we would beat them if we could? Is he not the enemy to life and death of Brian de Bois-Guilbert, whom we have so much reason to fear? And were all this otherwise, wouldst thou have us show a worse conscience than an unbeliever, a Hebrew Jew?”
“Nay, that were a shame,” muttered the other fellow; “and yet, when I served in the band of stout old Gandelyn, we had no such scruples of conscience. And this insolent peasant, — he too, I warrant me, is to be dismissed scatheless?”
“Not if THOU canst scathe him,” replied the Captain. — “Here, fellow,” continued he, addressing Gurth, “canst thou use the staff, that thou starts to it so readily?”
“I think,” said Gurth, “thou shouldst be best able to reply to that question.”
“Nay, by my troth, thou gavest me a round knock,” replied the Captain; “do as much for this fellow, and thou shalt pass scot-free; and if thou dost not — why, by my faith, as thou art such a sturdy knave, I think I must pay thy ransom myself. — Take thy staff, Miller,” he added, “and keep thy head; and do you others let the fellow go, and give him a staff — there is light enough to lay on load by.”
The two champions being alike armed with quarter-staves, stepped forward into the centre of the open space, in order to have the full benefit of the moonlight; the thieves in the meantime laughing, and crying to their comrade, “Miller! beware thy toll-dish.” The Miller, on the other hand, holding his quarter-staff by the middle, and making it flourish round his head after the fashion which the French call “faire le moulinet”, exclaimed boastfully, “Come on, churl, an thou darest: thou shalt feel the strength of a miller’s thumb!”
“If thou be’st a miller,” answered Gurth, undauntedly, making his weapon play around his head with equal dexterity, “thou art doubly a thief, and I, as a true man, bid thee defiance.”
So saying, the two champions closed together, and for a few minutes they displayed great equality in strength, courage, and skill, intercepting and returning the blows of their adversary with the most rapid dexterity, while, from the continued clatter of their weapons, a person at a distance might have supposed that there were at least six persons engaged on each side. Less obstinate, and even less dangerous combats, have been described in good heroic verse; but that of Gurth and the Miller must remain unsung, for want of a sacred poet to do justice to its eventful progress. Yet, though quarter-staff play be out of date, what we can in prose we will do for these bold champions.
Long they fought equally, until the Miller began to lose temper at finding himself so stoutly opposed, and at hearing the laughter of his companions, who, as usual in such cases, enjoyed his vexation. This was not a state of mind favourable to the noble game of quarter-staff, in which, as in ordinary cudgel-playing, the utmost coolness is requisite; and it gave Gurth, whose temper was steady, though surly, the opportunity of acquiring a decided advantage,