It is quite right and proper to suppose that the reader is thoroughly acquainted with the position, situation, and peculiarities of every town, to which we may be pleased to lead him; and, therefore, it may be unnecessary to remind him, that Peronne is surrounded by marshy ground, which soon gives way to a hilly country, which, at the time I speak of, was of a very wild and desolate character. The party of Burgundian horse, with Richard of Woodville and the fair Canonesses, rode on through this track towards Arras, at the same quick pace as during the preceding part of their journey; and even the ladies themselves were glad to keep their mules at a rapid amble; for the weather had undergone a sudden change, and a foul north-easterly wind was blowing sharp, cutting them to the marrow. The troop was now increased by the presence of the clerk's servant; and with him, as they went, the young English gentleman held more than one consultation, which resulted in Woodville adopting the resolution of quitting the escort, shortly after passing the Abbey of Arrouaise, where it was proposed that they should stop to dine.

The whole party, however, were destined to be disappointed of their comfortable meal; for when, after passing Feuillancourt, Rancourt, and Sailly, they approached the gates of the monastery, and rang the great bell, no one responded to the summons for some time. As they sat upon their horses waiting for admission, the sight of a neighbouring barn burnt to the ground, and still smoking, showed them that some party of pillagers had passed that morning; and they began to think that the monastery was deserted, which was certainly the case with the little village itself. The sound of voices within, however, at length induced them to make another application to the bell; and, after a short pause, a monk's head appeared at the window over the gate, exclaiming, "Get you gone, brothers, get you gone. You cannot enter here."

The leader of the troop remonstrated, and announced his name as Isambert of Agincourt; but the reply was still the same, the monk adding, by way of explanation, "We have suffered too much from you all already this morning. We will open our gates to none, and we have cross-bow men within, who will shoot if you do not retire. Do you not see the barns burning?"

"But that was done by the savage Englishmen," replied Isambert; "we are friends. We are men of Burgundy."

"So were these," answered the monk; "but the Duke and the English understand each other; for that sacrilegious villain, Robinet de Bournonville, had Englishmen with him. Get you gone, I will hear no more; and if you do not go, the men shall shoot."

The sight of several men upon the wall, with cross-bows in their hands, gave effect to the old man's words; and Isambert withdrew slowly, muttering curses at his friend, Robinet de Bournonville, for depriving him of his dinner. When he reached the bottom of the next slope, he halted to consult his companions and Richard of Woodville, as to what was to be done to procure food for themselves and for their horses; and he finally determined to return to Sailly, where a good hostel had been observed as they passed.

But Richard of Woodville took this opportunity of separating himself from the rest of the party, and announced his intention to Isambert of Agincourt, who seemed by no means sorry to get rid of him. The clerk's man and his own page were the only companions whom the young gentleman expected to go with him; and he was not a little surprised when the two novices drew aside from the ladies of Cambray, and the taller of the two begged that he would have the kindness to give them the benefit of his escort as far as Hesdin, saying, "We were on our way to Amiens, and thence to Montreuil, and not to Arras, whither, it seems now, this noble gentleman is bending his steps."

One of the Canonesses interposed a remonstrance, representing the danger of falling in with some party of English troops; but she did not venture to use a tone of authority, as the novices belonged to another Order; and the young lady who had already spoken, replied briefly, in a resolute and somewhat haughty tone, "that she had no fear, and, knowing what it was her duty to do, should do it."

"Well, settle the matter as you please, fair ladies," cried Isambert of Agincourt; "only be quick, for I have no time to lose;" and no farther opposition being made, Richard of Woodville undertook to protect, as far as he could, the two novices on the way, only warning them in general terms, that as soon as he discovered the exact position of the armies, he must join them; promising, however, to send on his page and the man with them to Hesdin. This being understood, he took leave of the commander of the men-at-arms; and choosing the first road to the left, under the direction of the clerk's man, who seemed thoroughly acquainted with the whole country, he proceeded for some way at a quick pace, till they reached a village, which seemed to have escaped the predatory propensities of the soldiery on both parts, and there paused to feed his horses, and to procure some refreshment for himself and his companions.

Though he had tried to entertain the two young ladies to the best of his power as they rode along, either their notions of propriety, or some anxiety in regard to their situation, rendered them cold and taciturn in their communications; and, unlike the gay Canonesses from whom they had just parted, they neither seemed inclined to converse with the knight or with each other, nor ever raised their veils to take a coquettish look at the country through which they passed. They now refused refreshment, also, saying, "It is not our habit to eat with men;" and as the house, at which they had bought some bread and mead, had but one public room, Richard of Woodville, with his two male companions, retired to the door while the horses fed, and left the shy novices to partake of what was set upon the table if they thought fit.

While there, the young knight entered into conversation with the good peasant who supplied them, and, though the jargon which the man spoke was scarcely intelligible, made out, that the English army had marched from Acheux on the preceding day, and had encamped the night before amongst the villages near the source of the Canche. Of the movements of the French army he could learn nothing, however, which led him to a false belief, that he was likely to meet with no interruption from the enemy in following the march of his own sovereign.

As the young knight rode on, and came into the country through which the English army had passed, the sad and terrible effects of that barbarous system of warfare, which was universal in those times, made themselves visible at every step. Houses and villages burnt, cattle slaughtered and left half consumed by the wayside, and fruit trees cut down for the purpose of lighting fires, presented themselves all along the road; and the painful feelings which such a scene could not but produce were aggravated by the lamentations of the villagers, who felt no terror at the appearance of a party consisting of women and of men without any arms except those usually worn in time of peace, and who poured forth their complaints to Woodville's ear, pointing to their ruined dwellings, and their little property destroyed, and cursing the ambition of kings, and the ferocity of their soldiery.

The young knight felt grieved and sorrowful; but he was surprised to find that the bitterness of the peasantry was less excited against the English themselves, than he had expected; and, on guiding the conversation with one of these poor men in a direction which he thought would lead to some explanation of the fact, the villager replied vehemently, "The English are not so bad as our own people. They are enemies, and we might expect worse at their hands; but, wherever the King or his brothers were, they destroyed little or nothing, and only took what they wanted. But, since they have passed, we have had two bands of Frenchmen, who have destroyed everything that the English left, on the pretence that we favoured them, though they knew that we could not resist. The Duke of York took my meat and my flour; but he left my house standing, and injured no one in the place. That cursed Robinet de Bournonville, and his companion the captain Vodeville, burnt down my house and carried off my daughter."

The young knight consoled the poor man as well as he could, and gave him a piece of silver, thinking it somewhat strange, indeed, that one of Bournonville's companions should have a name so nearly resembling his own. He and his companions rode on, however, still finding that the band, which he had seen issue forth from Peronne in the morning, had gone on before them, till they reached the town of Acheux, which was well nigh deserted. Most of the houses were closed and the doors nailed up; but they had evidently been broken into by the windows, and had been rifled of all their contents. In the mere hovels, indeed, some cottagers were seen; and on inquiring of one of these where they could find any place of rest, as night was coming on, the man led them to a large, ancient, embattled mansion in the centre of the town, which, though stripped of everything easily portable, still contained some beds and pallets. An old woman was found in the house, which she said belonged to the Lord of Acheux, and for a small piece of silver she agreed to make the strangers as comfortable as she could, seeming--perhaps, from old experience of such things--perhaps, from the obtuseness of age--to feel the horrors of war less keenly than any one they had yet met with. Money, however, made all her faculties alive, and declaring that she knew, notwithstanding the pillage which the place had undergone, where to procure corn for the cattle, and bread, eggs, and even wine, for the party, she set out upon her search, while Woodville and his two male companions led the horses and mules to the vacant stable, and the two novices remained in one of the desolate chambers up the great flight of stairs.

When the beasts had been tied to the manger, the young knight returned with the man and the boy to their fair companions; but the old woman had not yet returned; and as night was falling fast, he lighted a small lamp which he found in the kitchen, and returned with it to the chamber above. A few minutes after, while he was expressing his sorrow to the two maidens that he could find no better lodging for them, the sound of a small party of horse was heard below, and a voice exclaimed in English, "Ah! there is a light--I will lodge here, Matthew. Take my casque. This cursed cuirass pinches me on the shoulder: unbuckle this strap. Keep a watch for Ned, or any one he may send."

The voice was not unfamiliar to Richard of Woodville; and a heavy frown gathered upon his brow. His first impulse was to lay his hand upon his sword, and take a step towards the door; but then, remembering what fearful odds there might be against him, he turned to the window and looked out. He could distinguish little but that there were ten or twelve men below; and as he gazed, a step was heard upon the stairs. The young gentleman turned hastily to close and bolt the door; but to his surprise he beheld the taller of the two novices with the lamp in her hand, walking rapidly towards the entrance; and turning towards him, she said in a stern and solemn tone, "Leave him to me!"

The next instant she had passed the door; and when Richard of Woodville reached it and looked out into the gloomy corridor, he could see her, by the lamp that she held in her hand, meet Simeon of Roydon, upon whose face the full light fell, as he was just reaching the top of the stairs. Her back was towards the young knight, but he perceived that she suddenly raised her veil, and he heard her say, in English, and in a deep and solemn tone, "Ha! Have you come at length?"

Whatever might have been the import of those words on the ear of him to whom they were addressed, he staggered, fell back, and would have been precipitated from the top to the bottom of the stairs, had he not by a convulsive effort grasped the rope that ran along the wall The light was instantly extinguished, and the moment after Richard felt the novice's hand laid upon his arm, drawing him back into the room. They all listened, and steps were heard rapidly descending the stairs, followed by the voice of Simeon of Roydon exclaiming, "No, no, I cannot lodge here--I will not lodge here! Mount, and away. We will go on."

"But, noble knight," said another voice,--

"Away, away!" cried Simeon of Roydon again. "Mount! or by Heaven--" and immediately there came the sound of armed men springing on their horses, the tramp of the chargers as they rode away, and the fainter noise of their departing feet.

"In the name of Heaven, who are you?" demanded Richard of Woodville, addressing her who had produced such a strange effect.

"One whom he bitterly injured in former days," replied the novice; "and whom he dares not face even now. Ask no more: that is enough!"

"It were well to quit this place," said the other girl, in a low voice. And the clerk's man urged the same course, adding, "He may take heart and return,--besides, he spoke of some one coming."

Richard of Woodville remained in silence, meditating deeply for several minutes, with his arms folded on his chest, and his eyes bent down. The faint outline of his figure was all that could be seen in the dim semi-darkness that pervaded the room; but the novice who had proposed to go, approached him gently, and laying her hand upon his arm, again urged it, saying, "Had we not better go?"

"Well," said the young knight, starting from his reverie as if suddenly awakened from a dream, "let us go. But yet a cold night ride, with no place of shelter for two young and tender things like you, is no slight matter. Run down, boy, and light the lamp again--"

"No, no, no!" cried one of the two ladies, eagerly. "Light it not! let us go at once.--Hark! there is some one below."

"The old woman's step," cried the page; "I will run down and see what she has got."

He returned in a moment with the good dame, bearing more than she had promised. She easily understood the reason why the light which she offered was refused; and after taking some wine and bread, the whole party descended to the stable, whence the horses were brought forth; and Richard of Woodville, paying her well for her trouble and her provisions, bade the page take the remainder of the bread to feed the poor beasts, when they could venture to pause. In less than a quarter of an hour the young knight and his companions were once more on their way, under the direction of the clerk's man, who proposed that they should bear a little towards Doulens, which would lead them out of the immediate track that the English army had followed.