Ivanhoe - Page 154/201

"Shall we stand fast, Gurth?" said Wamba; "or shall we e'en give him

leg-bail? In my foolish mind, he had all the equipage of a thief too

much in readiness, to be himself a true man."

"Let him be the devil," said Gurth, "an he will. We can be no worse of

waiting his return. If he belong to that party, he must already have

given them the alarm, and it will avail nothing either to fight or fly.

Besides, I have late experience, that errant thieves are not the worst

men in the world to have to deal with."

The yeoman returned in the course of a few minutes.

"Friend Gurth," he said, "I have mingled among yon men, and have learnt

to whom they belong, and whither they are bound. There is, I think,

no chance that they will proceed to any actual violence against their

prisoners. For three men to attempt them at this moment, were little

else than madness; for they are good men of war, and have, as such,

placed sentinels to give the alarm when any one approaches. But I

trust soon to gather such a force, as may act in defiance of all their

precautions; you are both servants, and, as I think, faithful servants,

of Cedric the Saxon, the friend of the rights of Englishmen. He shall

not want English hands to help him in this extremity. Come then with me,

until I gather more aid."

So saying, he walked through the wood at a great pace, followed by the

jester and the swineherd. It was not consistent with Wamba's humour to

travel long in silence.

"I think," said he, looking at the baldric and bugle which he still

carried, "that I saw the arrow shot which won this gay prize, and that

not so long since as Christmas."

"And I," said Gurth, "could take it on my halidome, that I have heard

the voice of the good yeoman who won it, by night as well as by day, and

that the moon is not three days older since I did so."

"Mine honest friends," replied the yeoman, "who, or what I am, is little

to the present purpose; should I free your master, you will have reason

to think me the best friend you have ever had in your lives. And whether

I am known by one name or another--or whether I can draw a bow as well

or better than a cow-keeper, or whether it is my pleasure to walk in

sunshine or by moonlight, are matters, which, as they do not concern

you, so neither need ye busy yourselves respecting them."