The holy man drew back, as though from some touch of pollution.
“Hold!” cried he, “one touch and ’tis thy last. Rash fool, thou hast provoked this rebuke!”
The hand of the seneschal had scarcely been put forth, when, lo! the astonished deputy shrank back in dismay. A sudden change came over his angry countenance—a look of surprise mingled with horror, as though he could have wished the earth to gape and hide him from the object of his apprehensions. He stood trembling, speechless, pale as ashes, expecting immediate and condign punishment. So suddenly this change was wrought that the spectators fancied it to be some direct interposition from heaven; concluding that he was smitten for the sacreligious and profane hand he had dared to stretch toward this holy man. Yet was the change not so sudden but that a quick-eyed observer, if such were there, might have seen the hermit’s outer garment loosened for a moment, and a significant whisper which the other evidently heard with such visible tokens of alarm.
Ulphilas immediately retired to his cell, and from that hour the castellan discharged his official duties evidently under the control of some overmastering influence or apprehension.
Not long afterwards it was rumoured abroad that tidings had been heard from Roger de Fitz-Eustace, who was supposed either to be in captivity or to have fallen at the siege of Ascalon.
The king was still detained in prison by the Emperor Henry VI., and it was only through the remonstrance of the German princes, and a threat of excommunication from the Pope, that Henry, finding he could no longer hold him in durance, concluded a treaty for his ransom at the exorbitant sum of 150,000 marks, about L300,000 of our money; of which sum two-thirds were to be paid before he received his liberty, and sixty-seven hostages delivered for the remainder. The captivity of the superior lord was one of those cases provided for by the feudal tenures, and all vassals were, in that event, obliged to contribute towards his ransom. Twenty shillings were therefore levied on each knight’s fee throughout England; but as this money came in slowly, and was not sufficient for the intended purpose, the voluntary zeal of the people readily supplied the deficiency.
The churches and monasteries melted down their plate to the amount of 30,000 marks; the bishops, abbots, and nobles paid a fourth of their yearly rent; the parochial clergy contributed a tenth of their tithes; and the requisite sum being thus collected, the queen-mother and Walter, Archbishop of Rouen, set out with it to Germany, paid the money to the emperor and the Duke of Austria at Mentz, delivered to them hostages for the remainder, and freed Richard from captivity.[52]
During these important negotiations two messengers arrived at Clitheroe, who in consequence of the deputy’s absence for a season, held a secret conference with the Dean of Whalley ere they departed. An order was left that the castle should be forthwith in readiness for the reception of some distinguished guest. In those days tidings travelled slowly in such thinly-populated districts; like the heath-fire, which extends rapidly where the fuel is thickly strewn, but is tardy in spreading where it is less abundant.