The Fall of the Grand Sarrasin Part 13

We too were carried on like a mad torrent that could not stay itself, and in the front we cut furiously with our swords at the tail of their long line whenever chance was afforded. Not many so we slew, but a number tripped over in the rush were trampled underfoot, or threw themselves in the streamlet's bed, wherein afterwards they were speedily slain.

But an end came at last to that mad descent, and all-quivering and furious, we landed on the sh.o.r.e. We stayed a moment till a great troop was round us, every moment swelling as the laggards came up, thirsting to have a lot in so great a matter, and then with a mighty charge, that our foes scarce essayed to meet, we drove them before us into the sea.

Ay! in that deadly rush, with swinging steel and echoing cry like angels of great Heaven's power, we swept them like some unclean stuff off our island's face into the water. There was great slaughter all along the bay. Some climbing into boats were knifed behind; some half-drowned in the water we cut to pieces; some, but poor swimmers, never reached their ships; and more than one boat capsized, being overfull of raging and infuriated men.

A little remnant speedily entrenched themselves amid the rugged boulders, and smarting as they were with wild and bitter rage, we left them in their fortress, till one of the ships espying them, a boat was sent amid the rocks that they climbed towards and entered safely without hindrance from us. These and the few that swam, and the few that escaped in boats, and some that hid themselves in cave or brake, and afterwards escaped, were the scanty sum of that bodyguard of Le Grand Geoffroy that got to their ships.

The rest lay on the road, or in the water-way, or here where the sh.o.r.e met the white roll of the surf, in great heaps that the waves played with, as they rolled up and ran back dyed with blood. So we islanders of Guernsey and Brethren of the Vale dealt with one-half of the pirates'

force, while good Samson d'Anville did likewise with the other half as they fled to the Grand Havre.

It was when we at last rested from this sad work of slaughter that I looked up to the clear sky, since earth and sea seemed all defiled with blood, and lo! there on the spur of land that divideth the Bay of Moulin Huet from the Bay of All Saints, high up on the top, with his form outlined against the sky, sat Le Grand Sarrasin on his Arabian steed. I showed him in a moment to Hugo.

"Fools that we be," cried he, "that stain our hands in this foul work upon these paltry runaways, while he, the chief cause of these men's offending, still goes free!"

"See," I said, "the monster gazes down on the downfall of his lieges, and sees them die without a care!"

"Ay, for he knows," said Hugo, "there is plenty of evil men in the world for him still to lead."

With that Hugo picked out some twenty of his most trusted men and bade us follow him.

So we started up the cliff side by a little path that wound upward amid the gorse. And still all the time as we toiled with foot and hand at climbing, upon the summit sat the Sarrasin, as though with a proud air deriding our attack.

"Whom seek you, good gentlemen?" he cried to us as we climbed below.

"A vile knave and caitiff!" Hugo cried back.

"He hath not pa.s.sed this way," shouted the Sarrasin, "so lose not your labour, good sirs, at this boys' play of climbing."

"It is not boys' play down yonder!" returned Hugo. "Oh, villain, cursed villain, we will mete you the same measure!"

"Then you must rival my Pearl of Seville!" he cried, just galloping lightly away as we landed on the summit.

So he had got away to some secret place, of which there were so many on the coast, had he not met full-tilt a strong band of the Normans that were even now on the road, being sent down by Samson to see that we were not worsted.

These he met tramping to Moulin Huet Bay, and, wheeling hastily at the sight of them, found us behind him. Like a spent hare that runs into a hole, he spurred to the house at Blanchelande that lay at the head of All Saints' Bay, and we that followed at a run heard his beast clatter over the drawbridge of the moat. We rolled a great stone on to the bridge that none could draw it up, and, with the Normans following behind, pursued him into his cover. The good steed stood riderless before the gate. With all our weight we burst the door, and ran in a great body into the hall wherein I had visited my Lord of Rouen.

No man was to be seen therein, and for a while we stood at fault, Normans and islanders alike, and then went through the house, battering with l.u.s.ty strokes, that echoed again, every part of wall or wainscot that might afford concealment.

Had all our struggle been for naught, and would the arch-villain escape us thus? We came back to the great hall, and stood therein while our followers ran riot in the house. I took up, as we stood by my lord's table, that very curious box or optic-gla.s.s, wherein he showed me far things brought close, and curiously raised it to my eyes, and gazed down upon the bay. It was brought wondrous clear, and the waves seemed dancing before mine eyes. Suddenly I saw what made me drop the gla.s.s, and hastily drag Hugo with me out of the house. The gla.s.s showed me the Sarrasin stealing along the shadows of the glen downwards to where a little boat lay moored by the rocks.

We tracked him like a quarry; and ere long he knew we were behind him, and hasted, sore hindered with his great bulky body, to the sh.o.r.e. There we overtook him, and at once he faced us, and made with his sword a great lunge at Hugo that well-nigh took his life. But even so, Hugo was quick with his parry, and kept him at fence.

"This is no fair fight 'twixt man and man, false monk!" cried the Sarrasin, as I had a stroke at his undefended side, so hot was I for his blood.

"Stand off, good Nigel," sang out Hugo. "None shall say I beat him by foul means."

With this, after sundry pa.s.ses that came to naught, he drove his good sword straight into his enemy's side; for, indeed, Geoffroy was wild in his swordplay, and left openings clear to a cool man.

Le Grand Sarrasin rolled heavily on the sand, and we knew that never again would the pirates gather head to harm our island.

"Had I but gained the ship," he howled, "I would have been duke yet."

Now this was the last he said, for a great spurt of blood coming from his side, he raised himself a moment on his arm, and then fell back upon the sand.

We knew not what face of horror we should gaze upon as we essayed to pull the helm from the head of Le Grand Sarrasin, that never showed his face to men.

The helm came off in our hands. It was no hideous countenance that it had masked, nor did we fear to gaze on it in death.

It was the face of my Lord Archbishop of Rouen, whom I had visited in his house hard by, and whom I had seen disguised in Normandy, that I now plainly saw.

Where, then, was Le Grand Sarrasin? Le Grand Sarrasin had been none other than this exiled man, that among the most evil of mankind had sought to raise a power that might one day overthrow William himself.

And in this ruin of his glory, achieved by grace of Heaven through our hands, Le Grand Sarrasin was brought to naught.

"Thou knowest who this was?" said Hugo, calmly.

"Ay, well I know," I said.

"Thou and I alone know this dark thing," he said. "Is it well that it should enter into men's mouths and minds?"

"Thou knowest best, Hugo," I said.

"Then," said he, "I say it were well for the Church of G.o.d, and for men's love of honour, and for truth and righteousness, that none know but ourselves this dead man's secret. Let him die Le Grand Sarrasin, a heathen Moor and no baptized Norman."

"But Maugher will be missed," I said.

"Yea; and a meeter tale than this will serve," said Hugo. "A false step, a squall at sea--anything but _this_." He pointed to the body. "Wilt thou keep silence?"

"If it be thy will," I said.

"a.s.sist me, then," said Hugo.

So we dragged the body of the exile a short way over some rocks, whose black bases the deep water washed upon, and weighting it with some great stones, pushed it into the dark deeps. Thence none would raise him again to discover what manner of face wore Le Grand Sarrasin; and none would guess it was no dark visage of the south, but the face of an evil traitor, so much the more evil that he was called by the two high names Norman and Christian. There shall he lie till the great blare of Heaven's trump call good and ill to judgment.

CHAPTER XXI.

Conclusion. How, the above matters being finished, I was made known to my father.

Thus fell Le Grand Sarrasin, and I would fain finish this chronicle here, for all matters at the Vale most quickly returned to their old order, the next year being chiefly occupied with the rebuilding of the cloister and the planning of that great church that took so many years to build, which at last is so magnifical, that the old church wherein we used to sing with our boyish trebles seems in our memories but a poor place.

To the laying of these n.o.ble stones much of the stores of treasure found in the caverns at the chateau was justly devoted, and the holy things of many a plundered House of G.o.d are to be found in the stately church of the cloister.

And in my time, at least, no pirates ever landed on that island. Like a rock of doom they shun the place, for indeed many hundred of them perished there, as I have told, and they lost in one day the gathered treasure of years of crime.

And their captain being destroyed, their spirit seemed fled out of them, to the joy of all good and honest men.