Leaving Basle, they travelled along the left side of the Rhine by easy stages. The country was much disturbed, owing to the return and disbandment of so many of the troops employed in the Crusades. These, their occupation being gone, scattered over the country, and France and Germany alike were harassed by bands of military robbers. The wild country between the borders of Switzerland and Lorraine was specially vexed, as the mountains of the Vosges afforded shelter, into which the freebooters could not be followed by the troops of the duke.
Upon the evening of the third day they reached a small inn standing in a lonely position near the foot of the mountains.
"I like not the look of this place," Cuthbert said; "but as we hear that there is no other within a distance of another ten miles, we must e'en make the best of it."
The host received them with extreme and even fawning civility, which by no means raised him in the estimation of Cuthbert or Cnut. A rough meal was taken, and they then ascended to the rude accommodation which had been provided. It was one large room, barely furnished. Upon one side straw was thickly littered down—for in those days beds among the common people were unknown. In a sort of alcove at the end was a couch with a rough mattress and coverlet. This Cuthbert took possession of, while his followers stretched themselves upon the straw.
"Methinks," Cnut said, "that it were well that one should keep watch at the door. I like not the look of our host, and we are near the spot where the bands of the robbers are said to be busy."
Towards morning the archer on guard reported that he could hear the sound of many approaching footsteps. All at once sprang to their feet, and betook themselves to their arms. Looking from the window they saw a large party of rough men, whose appearance at once betokened that they were disbanded soldiers—a title almost synonymous in those days with that of robber. With the united strength of the party the truckle bed was carried from the alcove and placed against the door. Cuthbert then threw open the window, and asked in French what they wanted. One of the party, who appeared to be the leader, said that the party had better surrender immediately. He promised them good treatment, and said that the knight would be put to ransom, should it be found that the valuables upon his person were not sufficient to pay the worshipful company present for the trouble which they had taken in waiting upon him. This sally was received with shouts of laughter. Cuthbert replied quietly that he had no valuables upon his person; that if they took him there were none would pay as much as a silver mark for the ransom of them all; and that the only things that they had to give were sharp arrows and heavy blows.
"You talk bravely, young sir," the man said. "But you have to do with men versed in fight, and caring but little either for knocks or for arrows. We have gone through the Crusades, and are therefore held to be absolved from all sin, even that so great as would be incurred in the cutting of your knightly throat."
"But we have gone through the Crusades also," Cuthbert said, "and our persons are sacred. The sin of slitting our weazands, which you speak of, would therefore be so great that even the absolution on which you rely would barely extend to it."
"We know most of those who have served in the Holy Land," the man said more respectfully than he had yet spoken, "and would fain know with whom we speak."
"I am an Englishman, and a follower of King Richard," Cuthbert said, "and am known as Sir Cuthbert of Evesham. As I was the youngest among the knights who fought for the holy sepulchre, it may be that my appearance is known to you?"
"Ah," the other said, "you are he whom they called the Boy Knight, and who was often in the thick of the fray, near to Richard himself. How comes it, Sir Cuthbert, that you are here?"
"The fleet was scattered on its return," Cuthbert replied, "and I landed with my followers, well-nigh penniless, at Zara, and have since made my way across the Tyrol. I have, then, as you may well suppose, neither silver nor gold about my person; and assuredly neither Philip of France nor John of Austria would give a noble for my ransom; and it would be long, methinks, to wait ere John of England would care to ransom one of King Richard's followers."
The brigands spoke for awhile among themselves, and then the leader said,—
"You speak frankly and fairly, Sir Knight, and as you have proved yourself indeed a doughty giver of hard blows, and as I doubt not that the archers with you can shoot as straight and as fast as the rest of the Saxon breed, we will e'en let you go on your way, for your position is but little better than ours, and dog should not rob dog."
"Thanks, good fellow," Cuthbert said. "We trust that in any case we might have made a strong defence against you; but it would be hard if those who have fought together in the Holy Land, should slay each other in this lonely corner of Lorraine."
"Are you seeking adventures or employment, Sir Knight? For if so, myself and comrades here would gladly take service with you; and it may be that with a clump of spears you might obtain engagement, either under the Duke of Lorraine or he of Cleves."
"Thanks for your offer," Cuthbert replied; "but at present my face is turned towards England. King Richard needs all his friends; and there is so little chance of sack or spoil, even should we have—which God forfend—civil war, that I fear I could ill reward the services which you offer me."
The leader and his men shouted an adieu to Cuthbert, and departed for the mountains, leaving the latter well pleased with his escape from a fight of which the result was doubtful.
Journeying on without further adventure, they came to Nancy, and were there kindly received by the duke, who was not at that time upon good terms with Phillip of France, and was therefore well disposed towards the English. Cuthbert inquired from him whether any news had been heard of King Richard? but received as a reply that the duke had heard nothing of him since he sailed from Palestine.
"This is strange," Cuthbert said, "for I myself have journeyed but slowly, and have met with many delays. King Richard should long ere this have reached Saxony; and I fear much that some foul treatment has befallen him. On our way, we found how bitter was the feeling among those related to Conrad of Montferat against him; and the Archduke John is still smarting from the blow which King Richard struck him at Ascalon. But surely they would not be so unknightly as to hinder so great a champion of Christendom as King Richard on his homeward way?"
"The Archduke John is crafty and treacherous," the duke said; "and the emperor himself would, I think, be not sorry Conrad of Montferat, who falsely allege that the death of their kinsman was caused by King Richard. The Archduke John, too, owes him no good-will; and even the emperor is evilly disposed towards him. The king travelled under an assumed name; but it might well be that he would be recognized upon the way. His face was known to all who fought in the East; and his lordly manner and majestic stature could ill be concealed beneath a merchant's garb. Still, lady, as I have been so long in making my way across, it may be that King Richard has been similarly delayed without danger befalling him, and it could hardly be that so important a man as the King of England would be detained, or come to any misfortune, without the news being bruited abroad."
In spite of Cuthbert's reassuring words, the duke and duchess were greatly alarmed at the news of King Richard's disappearance, although indeed consoled to find that their previous fears, that he had been drowned in the storm or captured by the Moorish corsairs, were unfounded.
They now requested from Cuthbert the story of what had befallen him since he left the king; and this he related at some length. The duke was greatly interested, and begged Cuthbert at least to remain at his court until some news might arrive of King Richard.
For