MARTIN VALLIANT
MARTIN VALLIANT
By
WARWICK DEEPING
Author of “Sorrell and Son”
ROBERT M. McBRIDE & COMPANY
New York
MARTIN VALLIANT
BY WARWICK DEEPING
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES
OF AMERICA
FIRST EDITION
MARTIN VALLIANT
Chapter I
Brother Geraint pulled his black cowl forwardover his head, and stepped out into the porch.Some one thrust the door to behind him, and therewas the sound of an oak bar being dropped into the slots.
A full moon stared at Brother Geraint over the top ofa thorn hedge. He stood there for a while in the deepshadow, licking his lips, and listening.
Somewhere down the valley a dog was baying the moon,a little trickle of discord running through the supremesilence of the night. Brother Geraint tucked his handsinto his sleeves, grinned at the moon, and started downthe path with his shadow following at his heels. He loitereda moment at the gate, glancing back over his shoulder atthe house that blinked never a light at him, but stoodsolid and black and silent in the thick of a smother ofapple trees.
The man at the gate nodded his head gloatingly.
“Peace be with you.”
He gave a self-pleased, triumphant snuffle, swung thegate open, glanced up and down the path that crossed themeadows, and then turned homewards through the moonlight.
In Orchard Valley the dew lay like silver samite on thegrass, and the boughs of the apple trees were white assnow. Between the willows the Rondel river ran towardthe sea, sleek and still and glassy, save where it thunderedover the weir beside the prior’s mill. The bell-tower ofParadise cut the northern sky into two steel-bright halves.Over yonder beyond the river the Forest held up a cloakof mystery across the west. Its great beech trees wereglimmering into green splendor and lifting a thousandcrowded domes against the brilliance of the moon.
Brother Geraint had no care for any of these things.He swung along toward Paradise like a dog returning froman adventure, his fat chin showing white under his cowl,his arms folded across his chest. The cluster of hovels andcottages that stretched between the river and the priorygate was discreetly dark and silent, with no Peepin