“No, brother, be not angry,” said the youth quietly. “If I have used anything I have paid for it fully beforehand. For these sixteen years you have had full use and profit of fifteen good ploughlands which my father left me; you have also the use and increase of all my cattle and horses; and now all this past profit I abandon to you, in return for the expense of this feast of mine.”
Then said the treacherous Sir John: “Wait, my dear brother: I have no son, and you shall be my heir – I swear by the holy St. John.”
“Honestly, brother,” said Gamelyn, “if that is the case, and if this offer is made in all sincerity, may God reward you!” for it was impossible for him to suspect his brother of treachery.
Sir John hesitated a moment, and then said doubtfully: “There is one thing I must tell you, Gamelyn. When you threw my porter into the well I swore in my wrath that I would have you bound hand and foot. That is impossible now without your agreement, but I swore to god and cannot forget my promise. I will go to hell unless you let yourself be bound for a moment, as a mere form,[24] just to save me from the sin.”
So sincere Sir John seemed, and so simple did the whole thing appear, that Gamelyn agreed at once. “Why, certainly, brother, you shall not go to hell for my sake.”
So he sat down, and the servants bound him hand and foot; and then Sir John looked mockingly at him as he said: “So now, my fine brother, I have you caught at last.” Then he ordered to chain him fast to a post in the centre of the hall. Gamelyn was placed on his feet with his back to the post and his hands tight behind him, and as he stood there the false brother told every person who entered that Gamelyn had suddenly gone mad, and was chained for safety’s sake, so that he would not do himself or others some deadly hurt. For two long days and nights he stood there bound, with no food or drink, and grew faint with hunger and weariness, for his ropes were so tight that he could not sit or lie down; bitterly he regretted the carelessness which made him fall such an easy prey[25] to his treacherous brother’s evil plans.
When all others had left the hall Gamelyn appealed to old Adam Spencer, the steward of the household, a loyal old servant who had known Sir John of the Marches, and had watched the boy grow up. “Adam Spencer,” he said, “unless my brother wants to kill me, I am kept hungry too long. I pray, for the great love my father had for you, get the keys and release me from my bonds. I will share all my free land with you if you help me in this distress.”
The poor old servant was greatly perplexed. He knew not how to reconcile his grateful loyalty to his dead master with the loyalty to his present lord, and he said doubtfully: “I have served your brother for sixteen years, and if I release you now, he will rightly call me a traitor.”
“Ah, Adam! You’ll find him a false rogue in the end, as I have done. Release me, dear friend Adam, and I will be true to my agreement to share my land with you.”
By these words the steward was persuaded, and, waiting till Sir John was safely in bed, managed to get the keys and release Gamelyn, who stretched his arms and legs[26] and thanked God for his liberty. Then Adam took him to a private room and set food before him; eagerly he ate and drank till his hunger was satisfied and he began to think of revenge.
“What is your advice, Adam? Shall I go to my brother and smite off his head? He well deserves it.”
“No,” answered Adam, “I know a better plan than that. Sir John is to give a great feast on Sunday to many Churchmen and prelates; there will be present a great number of abbots and priors and other holy men. Do you stand as if bound by your post in the hall, and ask them to release you. If they help you, your liberty will be gained with no blame to me; if they all refuse, you shall cast aside the unlocked chains, and you and I, with two good sticks, can soon win your freedom. Christ’s curse on him who fails his comrade!”
“Yes, let me be cursed if I fail in my part of the bargain! But if we must need to help them to do penance for their sins, you must warn me, brother Adam, when to begin.”
“Certainly, master, I will give you a warning. When I wink at you be ready to cast away your chains at once and come to me.”
“This is good advice of yours, Adam, and blessings on your head. If these imperious Churchmen refuse to help me I’ll pay them well.”
Sunday came, and after mass many guests arrived to the feast in the great hall; they all stared curiously at Gamelyn as he stood with his hands behind him, apparently chained to his post, and Sir John explained sadly that he, after killing the porter and wasting the household stores, had gone mad, and was to be chained, for his fury was dangerous. The servants carried delicious dishes round the table, and beakers of rich wines, but, though Gamelyn cried aloud that he was hungry, no food was brought to him. Then he spoke pitifully and humbly to the noble guests:
“Lords, for Christ’s sake help a poor captive out of prison.” But the guests were hard-hearted, and answered cruelly, especially the abbots and priors, who had been deceived by Sir John’s false tales. So rude was their reply that he grew angry.
“Oh,” said he, “that is all the answer I am to have to my prayer! Now I see that I have no friends. Cursed be he that ever does good to abbot or prior!”
Adam Spencer, busied about the removal of the tablecloth, looked anxiously at Gamelyn, and saw how angry he was growing. He thought little more of his service, but, making an excuse[27] to go to the pantry, brought two good oak sticks, and put them beside the hall door. Then he winked at Gamelyn, who with a sudden shout flung off his chains, rushed to the hall door, took a barrel and whirled his weapon as lightly as if it had been a holy water sprinkler. There was a dreadful mess in the hall, for the fat Churchmen tried to escape, but Gamelyn was able to scatter the prelates. Now he had no pity on these cruel Churchmen, as they had been without pity for him; he knocked them over, battered them, broke their arms and legs, and brought a terrible fear among them; and during this time Adam Spencer kept the door so that none might escape. He called aloud to Gamelyn to respect the sanctity of men of Holy Church and shed no blood,[28] but if he should by chance break arms and legs there would be no sacrilege, because no blood would be shed.
Thus Gamelyn did what he wanted, laying hands on monks and friars, and sent them home wounded, while some of them muttered: “We were better at home, with just bread and water, than here where we have had such a sorry feast!”
Then Gamelyn turned his attention to his false brother, who had been unable to escape. He caught him by the neck, broke his backbone with one blow, and chained, sitting, to the post at which he had stood.
“Sit there, brother, and cool thy blood,” said Gamelyn, as he and Adam sat down to a feast, at which the servants served them eagerly, partly from love and partly from fear.
Now the sheriff happened to be only five miles away, and soon heard the news of this disturbance, and how Gamelyn and Adam had broken the peace. As his duty was, he determined to arrest the law-breakers. Twenty-four of his best men were sent to the castle to arrest Gamelyn and his steward; but the new porter, loyal to Gamelyn, denied them entrance till he knew their errand; when they refused to tell it, he sent a servant to wake his master and warn him that the sheriff’s men stood before the gate.
Then answered Gamelyn: “Good porter, go; delay my foes with fair speech at the gate till I have invented some plan. If I survive this incident, I will requite you truth and loyalty. Adam,” said he then to his steward, “Our enemies are on us, and we have no friend – the sheriff’s men surround us, we must go where our safety calls us.”
Adam replied: “Go where you want to go, I’ll follow you to the last or die abandoned. But this proud sheriffs will flee soon.”
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