> planted as to repel assailants. There was but one gateway, opposite the

general camp, and this was guarded by soldiers fully armed. A knight on

horseback in armour, except his helmet, rode slowly up and down before

the gate; he was the officer of the guard. His retainers, some thirty or

forty men, were drawn up close by.



A distance of fifty yards intervened between this entrenchment and the

camp, and was kept clear. Within the entrenchment Felix could see a

number of gentlemen, and several horses caparisoned, but from the

absence of noise and the fact that every one appeared to walk daintily

and on tiptoe, he concluded that the king was still sleeping. The stream

ran beside the entrenchment, and between it and the city; the king's

quarters were at that corner of the camp highest up the brook, so that

the water might not be fouled before it reached him.



The king's levy, however, did not seem to be hereabouts, for the booths

nearest the head-quarters were evidently occupied by great barons, as

Felix easily knew from their banners. There was here some little

appearance of formality; the soldiery were not so noisy, and there were

several officers moving among them. He afterwards discovered that the

greater barons claimed the right to camp nearest the king, and that the

king's levy was just behind their booths. But unable to discover the

place, and afraid of losing his liberty if he delayed longer, Felix,

after hesitating some time, determined to apply direct to the guard at

the gate of the circular entrenchment.



As he crossed the open ground towards it, he noticed that the king's

quarters were the closest to the enemy. Across the little stream were

some corn-fields, and beyond these the walls of the city, scarcely half

a mile distant. There was no outpost, the stream was but a brook, and

could be crossed with ease. He marvelled at the lack of precaution; but

he had yet to learn that the enemy, and all the armies of the age, were

equally ignorant and equally careless.



With as humble a demeanour as he could assume, Felix doffed his cap and

began to speak to the guard at the gateway of the entrenchment. The

nearest man-at-arms immediately raised his spear and struck him with the

butt. The unexpected blow fell on his left shoulder, and with such force

as to render it powerless. Before he could utter a remonstrance, a

second had seized his boar-spear, snapped the handle across his knee,

and hurled the fragments from him. Others then took him by the shoulders

and thrust him back across the open space to the camp, where they kicked

him and left him, bruised, and almost stupefied with indignation. His

offence was approaching the king's ground with arms in his hands.



Later in the afternoon he found himself sitting on the bank of the

stream far below the camp. He had wandered thither without knowing where

he was going or what he was doing. His spirit for the time had been

crushed, not so much by the physical brutality as by the repulse to his

aspirations. Full of high hopes, and conscious of great ideas, he had

been beaten like a felon hound.



From this spot beside the brook the distant camp appeared very

beautiful. The fluttering banners, the green roofs of the booths (of

ferns and reeds and boughs), the movement and life, for bodies of troops

were now marching to and fro, and knights in gay attire riding on

horseback, made a pleasant scene on the sloping ground with the forest

at the back. Over the stream the sunshine lit up the walls of the

threatened city, where, too, many flags were waving. Felix came somewhat

to himself as he gazed, and presently acknowledged that he had only had

himself to blame. He had evidently transgressed a rule, and his

ignorance of the rule was no excuse, since those who had any right to be

in the camp at all were supposed to understand it.



He got up, and returning slowly towards the camp, passed on his way the

drinking-place, where a groom was watering some horses. The man called

to him to help hold a spirited charger, and Felix mechanically did as he

was asked. The fellow's mates had left him to do their work, and there

were too many horses for him to manage. Felix led the charger for him

back to the camp, and in return was asked to drink. He preferred food,

and a plentiful supply was put before him. The groom, gossiping as he

attended to his duties, said that he always welcomed the beginning of a

war, for they were often half starved, and had to gnaw the bones, like

the dogs, in peace. But when war was declared, vast quantities of

provisions were got together, and everybody gorged at their will. The

very dogs battened; he pointed to half a dozen who were tearing a raw

shoulder of mutton to pieces. Before the campaign was over, those very

dogs might starve. To what "war" did Felix belong? He replied to the

king's levy.





The groom said that this was the king's levy where they were; but under

whose command was he? This puzzled Felix, who did not know what to say,

and ended by telling the truth, and begging the fellow to advise him, as

he feared to lose his liberty. The man said he had better stay where he

was, and serve with him under Master Lacy, who was mean enough in the

city, but liked to appear liberal when thus consorting with knights and

gentlemen.



Master Lacy was a merchant of Aisi, an owner of vessels. Like most of

his fellows, when war came so close home, he was almost obliged to join

the king's levy. Had he not done so it would have been recorded against

him as a lack of loyalty. His privileges would have been taken from him,

possibly the wealth he had accumulated seized, and himself reduced to

slavery. Lacy, therefore, put on armour, and accompanied the king to the

camp. Thus Felix, after all his aspirations, found himself serving as

the knave of a mere citizen.



He had to take the horses down to water, to scour arms, to fetch wood

from the forest for the fire. He was at the beck and call of all the

other men, who never scrupled to use his services, and, observing that

he never refused, put upon him all the more. On the other hand, when

there was nothing doing, they were very kind and even thoughtful. They

shared the best with him, brought wine occasionally (wine was scarce,

though ale plentiful) as a delicacy, and one, who had dexterously taken

a purse, presented him with half a dozen copper coins as his share of

the plunder. Felix, grown wiser by experience, did not dare refuse the

stolen money, it would have been considered as the greatest insult; he

watched his opportunity and threw it away.



The men, of course, quickly discovered his superior education, but that

did not in the least surprise them, it being extremely common for

unfortunate people to descend by degrees to menial offices, if once they

left the estate and homestead to which they naturally belonged. There as

cadets, however humble, they were certain of outward respect: once

outside the influence of the head of the house, and they were worse off

than the lowest retainer. His fellows would have resented any show of

pride, and would speedily have made his life intolerable. As he showed

none, they almost petted him, but at the same time expected him to do

more than his share of the work.



Felix listened with amazement to the revelations (revelations to him) of

the inner life of the camp and court. The king's weaknesses, his

inordinate gluttony and continual intoxication, his fits of temper, his

follies and foibles, seemed as familiar to these grooms as if they had

dwelt with him. As for the courtiers and barons, there was not one whose

vices and secret crimes were not perfectly well known to them. Vice and

crime must have their instruments; instruments are invariably

indiscreet, and thus secrets escape. The palace intrigues, the intrigues

with other states, the influence of certain women, there was nothing

which they did not know.



Seen thus from below, the whole society appeared rotten and corrupted,

coarse to the last degree, and animated only by the lowest motives. This

very gossip seemed in itself criminal to Felix, but he did not at the

moment reflect that it was but the tale of servants. Had such language

been used by gentlemen, then it would have been treason. As himself of

noble birth, Felix had hitherto seen things only from the point of view

of his own class. Now he associated with grooms, he began to see society

from their point of view, and recognised how feebly it was held

together by brute force, intrigue, cord and axe, and woman's flattery.

But a push seemed needed to overthrow it. Yet it was quite secure,

nevertheless, as there was none to give that push, and if any such plot

had been formed, those very slaves who suffered the most would have been

the very men to give information, and to torture the plotters.



Felix had never dreamed that common and illiterate men, such as these

grooms and retainers, could have any conception of reasons of State, or

the crafty designs of courts. He now found that, though they could

neither writer nor read, they had learned the art of reading man (the

worst and lowest side of character) to such perfection that they at once

detected the motive. They read the face; the very gait and gesture gave

them a clue. They read man, in fact, as an animal. They understood men

just as they understood the horses and hounds under their charge. Every

mood and vicious indication in those animals was known to them, and so,

too, with their masters.



Felix thought that he was himself a hunter, and understood woodcraft; he

now found how mistaken he had been. He had acquired woodcraft as a

gentleman; he now learned the knave's woodcraft. They taught him a

hundred tricks of which he had had no idea. They stripped man of his

dignity, and nature of her refinement. Everything had a blackguard side

to them. He began to understand that high principles and abstract

theories were only words with the mass of men.



One day he saw a knight coolly trip up a citizen (one of the king's

levy) in the midst of the camp and in broad daylight, and quietly cut

away his purse, at least a score of persons looking on. But they were

only retainers and slaves; there was no one whose word would for a

moment have been received against the knight's, who had observed this,

and plundered the citizen with impunity. He flung the lesser coins to

the crowd, keeping the gold and silver for himself, and walked off

amidst their plaudits.



Felix saw a slave nailed to a tree, his arms put round it so as to clasp

it, and then nails driven through them. There he was left in his agony

to perish. No one knew what his fault had been; his master had simply

taken a dislike to him. A guard was set that no one should relieve the

miserable being. Felix's horror and indignation could not have been

expressed, but he was totally helpless.



His own condition of mind during this time was such as could not be well

analysed. He did not himself understand whether his spirit had been

broken, whether he was really degraded with the men with whom he lived,

or why he remained with them, though there were moments when it dawned

upon him that this education, rude as it was, was not without its value

to him. He need not practise these evils, but it was well to know of

their existence. Thus he remained, as it were, quiescent, and the days

passed on. He really had not much to do, although the rest put their

burdens upon him, for discipline was so lax, that the loosest attendance

answered equally well with the most conscientious. The one thing all the

men about him seemed to think of was the satisfying of their appetites;

the one thing they rejoiced at was the fine dry weather, for, as his

mates told him, the misery of camp life in rain was almost unendurable.