Adventure Magazine, April 10, 1924 — page 24: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

22 slaughter was over. After washing his head in the river he was able to catch a riderless pony that was circling the camp. Without .delaying Bunsley had set forth on the trail: taken by the raiders. This was before the coming of the Montserrat men, and lhe pushed up into the mountains, be- coming weary and confused on the descent, until he dismounted and sought some sleep, being awakened by the tread of Abdullah’s horse. The Moslem bow he had picked up when he left the camp. “And if thou be’st true man, thou wilt seek out the infidel dogs and prevail upon them to release the maid and priest.. If not, then for love of the Cross thou didst wear, bear me company until we come up with them.”’ “You would not go far, bowman.” Robert liked. the stubborn courage of the yeoman, yet knew that Bunsley would not live to see the sun set if he kept on as he planned. “Turn back and seek service with the Montserrat, who hath an eye for a man who pulls a good bow.” “Nay, Dll seek no service with him. Ah, he is too glib with promises and too sparing of deeds. ’Tis a good lass and loves me well.” Bunsley heaved a deep sigh. “‘What says the redbeard?” asked Ab- dullah. Robert explained, and the minstrel stud- ied the archer curiously. “Take me with thee, lord,’ Bunsley begged doggedly, ‘‘and, God willing, Ill cry a greeting to the lass and strike a blow for her ere she be lost to Christian folk.” The girl, he added eagerly, was no more than a child when, a year and more ago, she had listened to the preaching of the monk de Courcon in Blois, where Bunsley happened to be stationed. She was Ellen d’Ibelin, daughter of a knight, and she had had schooling with the nuns. At Blois she took the Cross with many youths and children, for the monk declared that Jerusalem might be delivered by the children. Will Bunsley fell under the spell of the crusade preacher—also he confessed} to a mighty fondness for the girl—and ady ventured with the pilgrims through many barren and hostile lands to Byzantium. “And ’tis gold I seek,” cried Robert. “Nor will I turn me aside for any maid, cap- tive though she be.” Adventure It irked him that the men from Khar should have borne off prisoners from the lands of the Crotses, and he spoke bitterly, for his warning to Hugo and to the pilgrims had gone unheeded. Having formed a pur- pose, he would not swerve from it. More- over the red archer was the last man he wished to take with him on his venture. It was impossible to. disguise that raw- boned figure and stentorian voice; yet to leave Will Bunsley to follow the trail alone—— “ll tend the horses, good my lord,” in- sisted the yeoman, ‘‘and draw thee wine at every inn, aye, and keep watch o’nights for slit-throats —” “Hol” Robert chuckled. then, an’ you will. If my companion—— But Abdullah gave his assent without ado. The redbeard, he-said, could go as he was, and they would claim that he was Rob- ert’s captive. So should the Ameer Arslan have more honor. Bunsley’s appearance would be enough to make the Arabs, through whose country they must pass, think him a simpleton, afflicted by Allah. Clearly Robert explained to the yeoman the hardships they would face, first in the desert, then in the heart of Moslem power. “Fare with us +} ‘But Will Bunsley merely grinned—although he grimaced when told he must cast aside his weapons to play the part of captive. “Ha, for the land of gold—and the fair damsels of paynimry. How sayeth the song?” He chanted in a tuneful roar— “Though I have a man i-slaw And forfeited the king’s IT shall guiden a man of law, Will take my penny and let me go.” law, Robert harkened with relish to an Eng- lish voice, yet felt grave misgiving at tak- ing the archer, thinking that the man could not survive for many days. Before long, however, Will Bunsley of Northumberland proved to be a man of many surprizes. Although Abdullah pushed forward at a furious pace, the archer kept up with his nag, grumbling and groaning, but never al- lowing the two wanderers out of sight. The heat and the scanty fare stretched the skin taut on his bones, and he came to look like a scarlet skeleton, so that when they stopped at a village, the men of the desert thronged to stare at the red Frank captive in aston- ishment. , GO DOOK (C@ S|