Shea bowed easily. «We’re doing an experiment, Mrs. Ladd. We may be away for some time. If Mr. Bayard asks for us, let him in and tell him he can look at the papers in the top right-hand drawer. And you might mail this letter. Thanks.» He explained to Chalmers: «It’s to Gert; to tell her not to waste her money by setting Johnson after us.»
«But, Mr. Shea —» said the landlady.
«Please, Mrs. Ladd. You can sit down and watch if you like. Let’s go, Doctor — a conclusion can he drawn concerning the relation between two classes even if the evidence refers only to a part of some third class to which both are related. Whatever is predicated affirmatively or negatively of a class may be predicated in like manner of everything asserted to be contained in that class —»
Mrs. Ladd watched, ample bosom heaving. Her eyes bulged from her head: she’d have material for backfence conversation for months to come.
Pfmp! There was a movement of air, muttering the papers on the table and whirling ashes from the ash trays. Mrs. Ladd, pulling herself together, moved a trembling hand through the space where her stangely dressed lodgers had stood.
It met no resistance.
TWO
Chalmers spoke first. «Astounding! I should have thought the passage more difficult.»
«Uh-huh.» Shea looked around, sniffing the air with his head up. «Looks like a plain forest to me. Not as cold as the last one, thank God.»
«I. I suppose so. Though I’m sure I don’t know what type of tree that is.»
«I’d say some kind of eucalyptus,» replied Shea «That would mean a warm, dry climate. But look where the sun is. That means late afternoon, so we better get started.»
«Dear me, I suppose so. Which direction would you suggest?»
«Dunno, but I can find out.» Shea dropped his rucksack and swarmed up the nearest tree. He called down: «Can’t see much. No, wait, there’s a slope off that direction.» He waved an arm, almost lost his footing, and slid down again in a small torrent of bark and leaves.
They started towards the slope in the hope that it represented a river valley, where they could expect to find human habitations. After half a mile a scraping sound halted him wordlessly. They crept forward, peering. A tall, spotted buck was rubbing its horns against a tree. It flung up its head as it heard them, gave a sneezelike snort, and leaped gracefully away.
Shea said: «If he’s just getting rid of his velvet, it ought to be late summer or early fall.»
«I wasn’t aware you were so much of a woodsman, Harold.»
«What the hell, Doc. Doctor, I’ve been having practice. What’s that?»
Something far off had gone «Ow-ooh,» a sort of musical grunt, as though somebody had casually scraped the C string of a cello.
Chalmers fingered his chin. «It sounds remarkably like a lion. I trust we need not expect to encounter lions in this country.»
The noise came again, louder. «Don’t bet on it, Doctor,» said Shea. «If you remember your Spenser, there were plenty of lions around; also camels, bears, wolves, leopards, and aurochs, as well as human fauna like giants and Saracens. Not to mention the Blatant Beast, which had the worst qualities of all and slandered people besides. What worries me is whether lions can climb trees.»
«Merciful Heavens! I don’t know about lions, but I’m afraid I shouldn’t be equal to much climbing. Let’s hurry.»
They strode on through the wood, a wood of open glades with little underbrush and no recognizable paths. A little breeze came up to make the leaves whisper overhead. The coughing roar of the lion came again, and Shea and Chalmers, without realizing, stepped up their pace to a trot. They glanced at each other and slowed down again.
Chalmers puffed: «It’s good for a man of my age to have a little. uh. exercise like this.»
Shea grinned with one side of his mouth. They came out onto the edge of a meadow that stretched a couple of hundred yards downhill. At the bottom of the valley, more trees evidently concealed a stream. Shea scrambled up another tree for a look. Beyond the stream and its wide, shallow vale stood a castle, small in the distance and yellow in the low sun, with pennants writhing lazily from its turrets. He called down the news.
* * *
«Can you make out the devices on any of the pennants?» Chalmers answered. «I was. I am. not altogether inexpert in matters of heraldry. It might be wise to learn something of the character of the institution.»
«Nor a damn thing,» said Shea, and swung himself down. «Air’s too quiet and she’s too far away. Anyhow, I’d rather take a chance on the castle than on being part of a lion’s breakfast. Let’s go.»
* * *
In the tone of an announcer offering the express for East Chicago, Laporte, and South Bend on Track 18, a voice cried at them: «Who would enter Castle Caultrock?»
There was nobody in sight, but the travellers’ eyes caught a flash of metal on one of the projecting balconies where the drawbridge chains entered the wall. Shea shouted back the rehearsed answer: «Travellers, to wit, Harold Shea, gentleman and squire, and Reed Chalmers, palmer!» Wonder what they’d say about the «gentleman,» thought Shea, if they knew my father was head bookkeeper of a meat-packing concern?
The answer floated back: «This is a castle of deeds and ladies. The holy palmer may enter in the name of God, but no gentleman unless he be accompanied by his fair dame, for such is the custom of this place.»
Shea and Chalmers looked at each other. The latter was smiling happily. «Perfect selectivity!» he murmured. «This is exactly right; right at the beginning of Spenser’s fourth book —» his voice trailed off and his face fell. «I don’t quite know what to do about your being left out —»
«Go ahead in. I’ve slept in the open before.»
«But —» Just then a movable section in the bars of the portcullis creaked outward, and a man in armour stumbled through, apparently pushed from behind. There was a shout of derisive laughter. A horse was squeezed through the opening behind. The man took the reins and came towards them. He was a small man with close-cropped hair. A scar intersected one corner of a mouth drawn into a doleful expression. «Hi,» said Shea. «Did they throw you out?»
«I high Hardimour. Aye; it is even the hour of vespers, and being ladyless I am put forth from the fair entertainment within.» He smiled wryly. «And what hight you? Nay, tell me not now; for I see my dinner and bed approach, mounted on the back of a jennet.»
The travellers turned to follow Hardimour’s eyes behind them. Across the even meadow came a pair of horses, bearing an armoured knight and his lady. The latter rode sidesaddle, clad in rich garments of a trailing, impractical kind.
The little knight vaulted to his saddle with a lightness that was surprising, considering the weight of his hardware. He shouted, «Defend yourself, knight, or yield me your lady!» and snapped down his visor with a clang.
The smaller horse, with the woman, swung to one side. Shea gave a low whistle as he got a look at her: a slim, pale girl, with features as perfect as a cameo, and delicately rounded eyebrows. The other rider, without a word, whipped a cloth covering from his shield, revealing a black field on which broken spear points were picked out with silver. He swung a big black lance into position.
Heads appeared along the battlements of the castle. Shea felt Chalmers pluck at his sleeve. «That Sir Hardimour is in for trouble,» said the older psychologist. «Sable, semé of broken spears is the bearing of Britomart.»