Chapter 10 THROUGH OUSE MARSHES.

The Lady Aliva had gone to the retreat at Elstow with a heavy heart. In the first place, she had dismissed the man whom she loved with all her soul without giving him to understand that she would remain true to him; indeed, she even doubted within herself whether the words she had used to him might not, in fact, have implied the exact opposite. Then, further, her conduct to her father had given her pain. She confessed to herself that in that scene in the hall she had acted as an undutiful daughter, and even, at the conclusion of it, with want of maidenly reserve and self-respect.

Thus it was that with all true sorrow of repentance she had knelt in the abbey church. When the Lady Margaret and the abbess came upon her in the dusk bending before the high altar, she was indeed, as the abbess had intimated, praying not for strength to face the troublesome world again, but for grace to take the vows of the Benedictine rule.

It has already been shown how she had made known her wish to the lady abbess, and had obtained leave to wear for the time the habit of a novice. But her desire for the profession of a religious life had been combated, strange to say, by two persons who in any other case would have thought it their duty to strengthen it.

These two were the lady abbess herself and the archdeacon her uncle; and when she had learned Aliva's story, the Lady Margaret added her objections to theirs. All these three elders deemed it unadvisable for so young a girl--she was only eighteen--to think of monastic vows, and held out hopes that the course of true love might yet run smoothly. The archdeacon himself had always been a supporter of Ralph de Beauchamp's suit, and the two ladies joined with him in comforting the distressed damsel with plans for the future happiness of Ralph and herself.

With regard to the unlucky incident in the hall which had so abruptly terminated the other suitor's visit, Aliva made a clean breast of the whole matter. The ladies even went so far as to justify her conduct; and the archdeacon, speaking as a spiritual father, considered it sufficiently condoned by the exhortation he administered on the duty of maidenly reserve and the virtue of checking anger.

So when the retreat was ended, Aliva's plans were discussed in real earnest, and a determination arrived at. The good archdeacon decided to give up his projected journey to Dunstable, leaving his learned friends to finish their business by themselves, and to accompany his niece to Bletsoe. There he hoped to convince his brother of the injustice of repressing Ralph de Beauchamp's suit.

The pros and cons of this discussion occupied all the early part of the day, and it was accordingly late in the afternoon when Aliva, after an affectionate parting with the two elder ladies, set off towards home, accompanied by her uncle and his two serving-men, and by Dicky Dumpling, who had brought over her riding-horse that morning.

Of the untoward event that befell the little party as they passed out of the abbey gateway we are already aware, and we must now take up the story of Aliva's flight and De Breauté's pursuit.

After a short spurt across country, she turned her horse back again into the road, that she might take in the situation and see what had become of her uncle. But she could see nothing in the distance save a confused group of horsemen. Between herself and that group, however, she was soon aware that a rider, William de Breauté, was following her at the top of his speed.

Now, had he been alone, it is not improbable that the courageous maiden, who had already faced him once, would boldly have awaited his arrival; but close at his heels came two of his men, and Aliva felt that there was nothing for it but a flight towards home.

The road to Bedford was quite cut off from her by the advancing horsemen, but she knew that at some distance further west there was a bridge across the Ouse at Bromham, and she determined to try to escape in that direction.

It was a desperate chance. Her horse was a mere palfrey, while De Breauté and his men were mounted on some of the best horses to be found in the stables of Bedford Castle.

She hurried through the little village of Kempston on the river-bank, for she knew it would prove no safe asylum. The approach of De Breauté's men always struck terror into the peasants of the villages around Bedford. They gazed open-mouthed after the flying maiden, and then slunk back into their huts as the mail-clad soldiers came clattering after her in pursuit.

Only upon her own wit and readiness could Aliva depend in this terrible race. She was less acquainted with this side of the Ouse valley than with the other, in which she had been accustomed to ride and hawk since childhood. But she knew that between Kempston and Bromham lay a stretch of marshy ground intersected by broad ditches, and into these marshes she resolved to ride with the hope of baffling her pursuers. She thought it not unlikely that in the ground which would bear the weight of herself and her palfrey the armed men and huge horses might be bogged.

Her conjecture proved not incorrect, and for a time the distance increased between herself and her pursuers. But the spring afternoon was now closing in, and in the failing twilight it was difficult to select the best track through the marshy ground. Once or twice Aliva had actually to return upon her path, and the men behind gained an advantage, as they watched her movements and avoided the impassable places. Moreover, her lightly-built horse, not much more than a pony, was beginning to tire. He had cleared one or two of the ditches with difficulty, and now, as he attempted to jump one of considerable breadth, a rotten take-off sent him floundering into the middle of it.

Aliva scrambled quickly from the saddle, and threw herself on the bank. But unfortunately it was the nearer one. For a minute or two she stood vainly trying to reach the reins, and calling to her palfrey to approach her.

But her pursuers were drawing on apace. The foremost was not De Breauté himself, but one of his men, who sprang from his horse and seized Aliva by the hood which hung loosely from her shoulders.

"Let go thy hold, varlet!" shouted De Breauté, in the rear. Even in his madness he could not bear to see her thus roughly handled by a rude soldier.

But Aliva was free ere he spoke. She unclasped the buckle which fastened her hood and mantle round her neck, and as the man fell back with the garments in his hand, flung herself into the muddy dike.

The water reached nearly to her waist, and with difficulty she struggled through. As she passed her horse, standing half bogged in the middle, she seized the reins and drew them over his head. By good chance a stunted willow overhung the further bank. She made a snatch at it, caught it, and with a supreme effort gained firm ground.

With the purchase afforded by the tree, Aliva was now able to get a tight hold of her horse's head, and encouraging him with her voice, she induced him to follow her example, and to struggle up the bank.

The two soldiers, meanwhile, watched her manoeuvres from the further side in some perplexity. Their lord's order to release her had been peremptory, and it was now apparent that she was escaping them again. Their lord himself, at some little distance, dismounted, his horse dangerously engulfed in a bog, was in as much uncertainty as they were.

When he had first started off in his wild chase of Aliva, he had indeed no fixed intention with regard to her, except perhaps to carry her off to Bedford along with Henry de Braybrooke; and now that he had pursued her thus far from Elstow, and held her, as it were, in his grasp, he was still undecided.

A wild chase through Ouse marshes.

Any brutal violence was far from his thoughts; for had he not forbidden his man to lay a hand upon her? A marriage was what he contemplated, though indeed it might be a forced marriage, like that of his brother Fulke with the Lady Margaret.

But no sooner did he perceive that the draggled girl was remounting her tired palfrey than he called to his men, standing stupidly looking at her from the nearer side of the ditch.

"Here, varlets, quick! Plague take you and these English morasses! Why came ye not to my help sooner? Saw ye not how I am well-nigh smothered in this cursed bog?"

It took some little time for the men-at-arms to free their master and his floundering steed. They dragged him out in as deplorable condition as that in which Aliva found herself, and by that time both he and they had had enough of the Ouse marshes.

Not that De Breauté was by any means inclined to give up the chase. He could see the hapless horsewoman he was pursuing far ahead and entering the little village of Bromham, and he followed her along firmer ground at some distance from the river.

The long, many-arched bridge which still stretches over the flat meadows at Bromham was furnished at the western end in those days with a small wayside chapel, the ruins of which can still be traced in the mill-house. Aliva rode slowly into the village, and wearily approached the foot of the bridge. As she cast an anxious glance over her shoulder, she saw that her pursuers had now reached hard ground, and were gaining on her rapidly.

Her little palfrey was dead beat. The struggle in the dike had completely exhausted him, and he no longer answered to his mistress's voice or to the touch of her riding-wand. As he reached the first cottage at Bromham, he stumbled and rolled heavily from side to side.

Aliva was off his back in a moment. A rustic stood by, gazing in astonishment at the young lady's condition--drenched and hoodless, her fair hair streaming over her shoulders.

But Aliva's first thought was for her horse.

"Prithee, friend," she cried to the peasant, "take my palfrey and tend him. You shall be well rewarded. I am the daughter of the lord of Bletsoe, and if I come not to claim him myself, take him to Bletsoe Castle when he has recovered."

She hurried on. How to escape now she knew not. But suddenly, as she approached the bridge, she perceived a haven of refuge. The chapel door stood open, and the poor hunted girl stepped into the welcome sanctuary.