One night--it was a week or two after Myles had come toDevlen--Blunt was called to attend the Earl at livery. The liverywas the last meal of the day, and was served with great pomp andceremony about nine o'clock at night to the head of the house ashe lay in bed. Curfew had not yet rung, and the lads in thesquires' quarters were still wrestling and sparring and rompingboisterously in and out around the long row of rude cots in thegreat dormitory as they made ready for the night. Six or eightflaring links in wrought-iron brackets that stood out from thewall threw a great ruddy glare through the barrack-like room-- alight of all others to romp by. Myles and Gascoyne were engagedin defending the passage-way between their two cots against theattack of three other lads, and Myles held his sheepskin coverletrolled up into a ball and balanced in his hand, ready forlaunching at the head of one of the others so soon as it shouldrise from behind the shelter of a cot. Just then Walter Blunt,dressed with more than usual care, passed by on his way to theEarl's house. He stopped for a moment and said, "Mayhaps I willnot be in until late to-night. Thou and Falworth, Gascoyne, mayfetch water to-morrow.
Then he was gone. Myles stood staring after his retreating figurewith eyes open and mouth agape, still holding the ball ofsheepskin balanced in his hand. Gascoyne burst into a helplesslaugh at his blank, stupefied face, but the next moment he laidhis hand on his friend's shoulder.
"Myles," he said, "thou wilt not make trouble, wilt thou?"Myles made no answer. He flung down his sheepskin and sat himgloomily down upon the side of the cot.
"I said that I would sooner die than fetch water for them," saidhe.
"Aye, aye," said Gascoyne; "but that was spoken in haste."Myles said nothing, but shook his head.
But, after all, circumstances shape themselves. The next morningwhen he rose up through the dark waters of sleep it was to feelsome one shaking him violently by the shoulder.
"Come!" cried Gascoyne, as Myles opened his eyes--"come, timepasseth, and we are late."Myles, bewildered with his sudden awakening, and still fuddledwith the fumes of sleep, huddled into his doublet and hose,hardly knowing what he was doing; tying a point here and a pointthere, and slipping his feet into his shoes. Then he hurriedafter Gascoyne, frowzy, half-dressed, and even yet onlyhalf-awake. It was not until he was fairly out into the fresh airand saw Gascoyne filling the three leathern buckets at the tank,that he fully awakened to the fact that he was actually doingthat hateful service for the bachelors which he had protested hewould sooner die than render.
The sun was just rising, gilding the crown of the donjon-keepwith a flame of ruddy light. Below, among the lesser buildings,the day was still gray and misty. Only an occasional noise brokethe silence of the early morning: a cough from one of the rooms;the rattle of a pot or a pan, stirred by some sleepy scullion;the clapping of a door or a shutter, and now and then the crowingof a cock back of the long row of stables--all sounding loud andstartling in the fresh dewy stillness.
"Thou hast betrayed me," said Myles, harshly, breaking thesilence at last. "I knew not what I was doing, or else I wouldnever have come hither. Ne'theless, even though I be come, I willnot carry the water for them.""So be it," said Gascoyne, tartly. "An thou canst not stomach it,let be, and I will e'en carry all three myself. It will make metwo journeys, but, thank Heaven, I am not so proud as to wish toget me hard knocks for naught." So saying, he picked up two ofthe buckets and started away across the court for the dormitory.
Then Myles, with a lowering face, snatched up the third, and,hurrying after, gave him his hand with the extra pail. So it wasthat he came to do service, after all.
"Why tarried ye so long?" said one of the older bachelors,roughly, as the two lads emptied the water into the woodentrough. He sat on the edge of the cot, blowzed and untrussed,with his long hair tumbled and disordered.
His dictatorial tone stung Myles to fury. "We tarried no longerthan need be," answered he, savagely. "Have we wings to flywithal at your bidding?"He spoke so loudly that all in the room heard him; the youngersquires who were dressing stared in blank amazement, and Bluntsat up suddenly in his cot.
"Why, how now?" he cried. "Answerest thou back thy betters sopertly, sirrah? By my soul, I have a mind to crack thy head withthis clog for thy unruly talk."He glared at Myles as he spoke, and Myles glared back again withright good-will. Matters might have come to a crisis, only thatGascoyne and Wilkes dragged their friend away before he hadopportunity to answer.
"An ill-conditioned knave as ever I did see," growled Blunt,glaring after him.
"Myles, Myles," said Gascoyne, almost despairingly, "why wiltthou breed such mischief for thyself? Seest thou not thou hastgot thee the ill-will of every one of the bachelors, from WatBlunt to Robin de Ramsey?""I care not," said Myles, fiercely, recurring to his grievance.
"Heard ye not how the dogs upbraided me before the whole room?
That Blunt called me an ill-conditioned knave.""Marry!" said Gascoyne, laughing, "and so thou art."Thus it is that boldness may breed one enemies as well as gainone friends. My own notion is that one's enemies are more quickto act than one's friends.
