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NONLINEAR CONTINUUM
MECHANICS FOR FINITE
ELASTICITY-PLASTICITY
 NONLINEAR
CONTINUUM
MECHANICS FOR
FINITE ELASTICITY-
PLASTICITY
Multiplicative Decomposition With
Subloading Surface Model

KOICHI HASHIGUCHI
Technical Adviser, MSC Software Ltd.
(Emeritus Professor of Kyushu University),
Tokyo, Japan
Elsevier
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 Contents

Preface xi

1. Mathematical fundamentals 1
1.1 Matrix algebra 1
1.1.1 Summation convention 1
1.1.2 Kronecker’s delta and alternating symbol 2
1.1.3 Matrix notation and determinant 2
1.2 Vector 6
1.2.1 Definition of vector 7
1.2.2 Operations of vector 7
1.3 Definition of tensor 15
1.4 Tensor operations 18
1.4.1 Properties of second-order tensor 18
1.4.2 Tensor components 19
1.4.3 Transposed tensor 20
1.4.4 Inverse tensor 21
1.4.5 Orthogonal tensor 22
1.4.6 Tensor decompositions 24
1.4.7 Axial vector 25
1.4.8 Determinant 27
1.4.9 Simultaneous equation for vector components 30
1.5 Representations of tensors 31
1.5.1 Notations in tensor operations 31
1.5.2 Operational tensors 32
1.5.3 Isotropic tensors 34
1.6 Eigenvalues and eigenvectors 35
1.6.1 Eigenvalues and eigenvectors of second-order tensor 35
1.6.2 Spectral representation and elementary tensor functions 37
1.6.3 Cayley Hamilton theorem 38
1.6.4 Scalar triple products with invariants 39
1.6.5 Second-order tensor functions 39
1.6.6 Positive-definite tensor and polar decomposition 40
1.6.7 Representation theorem of isotropic tensor-valued tensor function 42
1.7 Differential formulae 43
1.7.1 Partial derivatives of tensor functions 43
1.7.2 Time-derivatives in Lagrangian and Eulerian descriptions 48
1.7.3 Derivatives of tensor field 49
1.7.4 Gauss’ divergence theorem 51
1.7.5 Material-time derivative of volume integration 52

v
vi CONTENTS

1.8 Variations of geometrical elements 53

1.8.1 Deformation gradient and variations of line, surface and volume
elements 53
1.8.2 Velocity gradient and rates of line, surface and volume elements 56

2. Curvilinear coordinate system 61

2.1 Primary and reciprocal base vectors 61
2.2 Metric tensor and base vector algebra 65
2.3 Tensor representations 68

3. Tensor operations in convected coordinate system 77

3.1 Advantages of description in embedded coordinate system 77
3.2 Convected base vectors 79
3.3 Deformation gradient tensor 80
3.4 Pull-back and push-forward operations 83
3.5 Convected time-derivative 88
3.5.1 General convected derivative 89
3.5.2 Corotational rate 92
3.5.3 Objectivity of convected rate 95

4. Deformation/rotation (rate) tensors 101

4.1 Deformation tensors 101
4.2 Strain tensors 106
4.2.1 Green and Almansi strain tensors 106
4.2.2 General strain tensors 109
4.2.3 Logarithmic strain tensor 113
4.3 Volumetric and isochoric parts of deformation gradient tensor 114
4.4 Strain rate and spin tensors 117
4.4.1 Strain rate and spin tensors based on velocity gradient tensor 117
4.4.2 Strain rate tensor based on general strain tensor 120

5. Conservation laws and stress tensors 123

5.1 Conservation laws 123
5.1.1 Conservation law of physical quantity 123
5.1.2 Conservation law of mass 124
5.1.3 Conservation law of linear momentum 125
5.1.4 Conservation law of angular momentum 126
5.2 Cauchy stress tensor 127
5.2.1 Definition of Cauchy stress tensor 127
5.2.2 Symmetry of Cauchy stress tensor 130
5.3 Balance laws in current configuration 132
5.3.1 Translational equilibrium 133
5.3.2 Rotational equilibrium: symmetry of Cauchy stress tensor 133
5.3.3 Virtual work principle 134
 CONTENTS vii

5.3.4 Conservation law of energy 135

5.4 Work-conjugacy 135
5.4.1 Kirchhoff stress tensor and work-conjugacy 136
5.4.2 Work-conjugate pairs 137
5.4.3 Physical meanings of stress tensors 138
5.4.4 Relations of stress tensors 141
5.4.5 Relations of stress tensors to traction vectors 142
5.5 Balance laws in reference configuration 145
5.5.1 Translational equilibrium 145
5.5.2 Virtual work principle 146
5.5.3 Conservation law of energy 146
5.6 Simple shear 147

6. Hyperelastic equations 151

6.1 Basic hyperelastic equations 151
6.2 Hyperelastic constitutive equations of metals 155
6.2.1 St. Venant Kirchhoff elasticity 155
6.2.2 Modified St. Venant Kirchhoff elasticity 156
6.2.3 Neo-Hookean elasticity 157
6.2.4 Modified neo-Hookean elasticity (1) 157
6.2.5 Modified neo-Hookean elasticity (2) 158
6.2.6 Modified neo-Hookean elasticity (3) 158
6.2.7 Modified neo-Hookean elasticity (4) 159
6.3 Hyperelastic equations of rubbers 159
6.4 Hyperelastic equations of soils 160
6.5 Hyperelasticity in infinitesimal strain 161

7. Development of elastoplastic and viscoplastic constitutive

equations 163
7.1 Basis of elastoplastic constitutive equations 163
7.1.1 Fundamental requirements for elastoplasticity 164
7.1.2 Requirements for elastoplastic constitutive equation 166
7.2 Historical development of elastoplastic constitutive equations 168
7.2.1 Infinitesimal hyperelastic-based plasticity 168
7.2.2 Hypoelastic-based plasticity 178
7.2.3 Multiplicative hyperelastic-based plasticity 181
7.3 Subloading surface model 182
7.4 Cyclic plasticity models 188
7.4.1 Cyclic kinematic hardening models with yield surface 188
7.4.2 Ad hoc Chaboche model and Ohno-Wang model excluding yield
surface 191
7.4.3 Extended subloading surface model 192
7.5 Formulation of (extended) subloading surface model 195
7.5.1 Normal-yield and subloading surfaces 195
7.5.2 Evolution rule of elastic-core 198
viii CONTENTS

7.5.3 Plastic strain rate 205

7.5.4 Strain rate versus stress rate relations 206
7.5.5 Calculation of normal-yield ratio 207
7.5.6 Improvement of inverse and reloading responses 208
7.5.7 Cyclic stagnation of isotropic hardening 209
7.6 Implicit time-integration: return-mapping 213
7.6.1 Return-mapping formulation 213
7.6.2 Loading criterion 221
7.6.3 Initial value of normal-yield ratio in plastic corrector step 224
7.6.4 Consistent tangent modulus tensor 227
7.7 Subloading-overstress model 229
7.7.1 Constitutive equation 230
7.7.2 Defects of past overstress model 238
7.7.3 On irrationality of creep model 240
7.7.4 Implicit stress integration 243
7.7.5 Temperature dependence of isotropic hardening function 249
7.8 Fundamental characteristics of subloading surface model 249
7.8.1 Distinguished abilities of subloading surface model 250
7.8.2 Bounding surface model with radial-mapping: Misuse of subloading
surface model 252

8. Multiplicative decomposition of deformation gradient tensor 255

8.1 Elastic-plastic decomposition of deformation measure 256
8.1.1 Necessity of multiplicative decomposition of deformation gradient
tensor 256
8.1.2 Isoclinic concept 259
8.1.3 Uniqueness of multiplicative decomposition 262
8.1.4 Embedded base vectors in intermediate configuration 263
8.2 Deformation tensors 264
8.2.1 Elastic and plastic right Cauchy-Green deformation tensor 264
8.2.2 Strain rate and spin tensors 265
8.3 On limitation of hypoelastic-based plasticity 269
8.4 Multiplicative decomposition for kinematic hardening 271

9. Subloading-multiplicative hyperelastic-based plastic and

viscoplastic constitutive equations 273
9.1 Stress measures 273
9.2 Hyperelastic constitutive equations 275
9.3 Conventional elastoplastic model 277
9.3.1 Flow rules for plastic strain rate and plastic spin 277
9.3.2 Confirmation for uniqueness of multiplicative decomposition 281
9.3.3 Plastic strain rate 281
9.4 Continuity and smoothness conditions 283
9.5 Initial subloading surface model 284
9.6 Multiplicative extended subloading surface model 286
9.6.1 Multiplicative decomposition of plastic deformation gradient for
elastic-core 286
 CONTENTS ix

9.6.2 Normal-yield, subloading and elastic-core surfaces 289

9.6.3 Plastic flow rules 291
9.6.4 Plastic strain rate 294
9.7 Material functions of metals and soils 296
9.7.1 Metals 296
9.7.2 Soils 300
9.8 Calculation procedure 306
9.9 Implicit calculation by return-mapping 309
9.9.1 Return-mapping 309
9.9.2 Loading criterion 312
9.9.3 Initial value of normal-yield ratio in plastic corrector step 314
9.10 Cyclic stagnation of isotropic hardening 317
9.11 Multiplicative subloading-overstress model 320
9.11.1 Constitutive equation 320
9.11.2 Calculation procedure 326
9.11.3 Implicit calculation by return-mapping 328
9.12 On multiplicative hyperelastic-based plastic equation in current
configuration 330

10. Subloading-friction model: finite sliding theory 335

10.1 History of friction models 335
10.2 Sliding displacement and contact traction vectors 336
10.3 Hyperelastic sliding displacement 339
10.4 Normal-sliding and subloading-sliding surfaces 340
10.5 Evolution rule of friction coefficient 341
10.6 Evolution rule of sliding normal-yield ratio 342
10.7 Plastic sliding velocity 344
10.8 Calculation procedure 348
10.9 Return-mapping 349
10.9.1 Return-mapping formulation 349
10.9.2 Loading criterion 353
10.10 Subloading-overstress friction model 356
10.11 Implicit stress integration 362
10.12 On crucially important applications of subloading-friction model 363
10.12.1 Loosening of screw 363
10.12.2 Deterministic prediction of earthquake occurrence 364

11. Comments on formulations for irreversible mechanical

phenomena 365
11.1 Utilization of subloading surface model 365
11.1.1 Mechanical phenomena described by subloading surface model 365
11.1.2 Standard installation to commercial software 367
11.2 Disuses of rate-independent elastoplastic constitutive equations 368
11.3 Impertinence of formulation of plastic flow rule based on second law of
thermodynamics 369
x CONTENTS

Appendix 1: Proofs for formula of scalar triple products

with invariants 371
Appendix 2: Convective stress rate tensors 373
Appendix 3: Cauchy elastic and hypoelastic equations 377
Bibliography 379
Index 393
 Preface

The elastoplasticity theory is now faced to the epoch-making devel-

opment that the exact description of the finite irreversible (plastic or vis-
coplastic) deformation/sliding behavior under the monotonic/cyclic
loading in the general rate of deformation/sliding from the static to the
impact loading is attained as the subloading multiplicative hyperelas-
tic based plasticity and viscoplasticity. This is the first book on this the-
ory, comprehensively describing the underlying concepts and the
formulations for the subloading surface model and for the multiplicative
decomposition of deformation gradient tensor into the elastic and the plastic
(or viscoplastic) parts and their combination.
The precise description of the plastic strain rate induced by the rate
of stress inside the yield surface is inevitable for the prediction of cyclic
loading behavior, which is crucial for the accurate mechanical design of
solids and structures in engineering. A lot of works have been executed
and various unconventional plastic constitutive (cyclic plasticity) models,
named by Drucker (1998), have been proposed aiming at describing the
plastic strain rate caused by the rate of stress inside the yield surface
after 1960s when the demands of mechanical designs of solids and
structures for the mechanical vibration and the seismic vibrations have
been highly raised responding to the high development of machine
industries and the frequent occurrences of earthquakes, e.g. Chile (1960)
and Niigata (Japan) (1964). Among various unconventional models the
multi surface model (Mroz, 1967; Iwan, 1967), the two surface model
(Dafalias and Popov, 1975; Krieg, 1975; Yoshida and Uemori, 2002), and
the superposed-kinematic hardening model (Chaboche et al., 1979;
Ohno and Wang, 1993) are well known. However, they assume a sur-
face enclosing a purely elastic domain and are based on the premise
that the plastic strain rate develops with the translation of the small
yield surface so that they are called the cyclic kinematic hardening model.
Therefore they possess various defects, for example, (1) the abrupt tran-
sition from the elastic to the plastic state violating the continuity and
the smoothness conditions (Hashiguchi, 1993a,b, 1997, 2000), (2) the
incorporation of the offset value of the plastic strain at yield, which is
accompanied with the unreality and the arbitrariness, (3) the incapabil-
ity of cyclic loading behavior for the stress amplitude less than the small

xi
xii Preface

surface enclosing an elastic domain, (4) the incapability of the nonpro-

portional loading behavior, (5) the incapability of extension to the rate-
dependency at high rate of deformation up to the impact loading behav-
ior, (6) the limitation to the description of deformation behavior in
metals, and (7) the necessity of the additional cumbersome operation to
pull back the stress to the yield surface or the small surface enclosing an
elastic domain. In particular, it is quite pitiful from the scientific point
of view that the superposed cyclic plasticity model, i.e. the Chaboche
model and the Ohno-Wang model are diffused widely, which are the
most primitive ad hoc cyclic plasticity models ignoring the historical
development of the plasticity but regressing to the easy going way by
the empirical method as will be explained in Section 7.4.
Now, it should be noted that the plastic strain rate is not induced
abruptly but develops gradually as the stress approaches the yield sur-
face. In fact, the mutual slips of material particles, for example, crystal
particles in metals and soil particles in sands and clays leading to the
plastic deformation is not induced simultaneously but induced gradu-
ally from parts in which mutual slips can be induced easily, exhibiting
the smooth transition from the elastic to the plastic transition. The sub-
loading surface model (Hashiguchi, 1978, 1980, 1989, 2017a; Hashiguchi
and Ueno, 1997) is free from the existence of the stress region enclosing
the purely elastic domain, while the existence has been postulated in
the other elastoplasticity models. The subloading surface, which passes
through the current stress and is similar to the yield surface, is assumed
inside the yield surface, and then it is postulated that the plastic strain
rate is not induced suddenly at the moment when the stress reaches the
yield surface but it develops as the stress approaches the yield surface,
that is, as the subloading surface expands. Therefore the smooth transi-
tion from the elastic to the plastic state, that is, the smooth elastic-plastic
transition leading to the continuous variation of the tangent stiffness
modulus tensor is described in this model. The subloading surface
model has been applied to the descriptions of the elastoplastic deforma-
tion behaviors of various solids, for example, metals, soils, concrete, etc.
Further, it has been extended to describe the viscoplastic deformation
by incorporating the concept of the overstress. The subloading surface
model would be regarded to be the governing law of the irreversible
mechanical phenomena of solids.
The subloading surface model has been incorporated into the com-
mercial software “Marc” in MSC Software Corporation as the standard
installation by the name “Hashiguchi model,” which can be used by all
Marc users (contractors) since October, 2017. Therefore it is explained in
the Marc user manual (MSC Software Corporation, 2017) in brief.
Further, the function for the automatic determination of material para-
meters was installed into the Marc as the standard function in June
 Preface xiii

2019. Furthermore, the subloading-friction model will also be incorpo-

rated into the Marc as the standard installation until the end of 2020.
The mechanisms of the elastic deformation and the plastic deforma-
tion in the solids consisting of material particles are physically different
from each other such that the former is induced by the deformation of
material particles themselves (e.g., crystal particles in metals and soil
particles in sands and clays) but the latter is induced by the mutual
slips between the material particles. Further, note that all the deforma-
tion measures, for example, the infinitesimal and the finite-strain tensors
and the strain rate tensor (skew-symmetric part of velocity gradient ten-
sor) are defined by the deformation gradient tensor. Therefore the exact
description of finite elastoplastic deformation requires the exact decom-
position of the deformation gradient tensor into the elastic and the plas-
tic parts. Furthermore, note that the deformation gradient tensor is
defined by the ratio (note: not difference) of the current infinitesimal
line element vector to the initial one. Then, the multiplicative decompo-
sition of the deformation gradient tensor has been introduced for the
exact description of finite elastoplastic deformation by the leading scho-
lars (Kroner, 1960; Lee and Liu, 1967; Lee, 1969; Mandel, 1971, 1972,
1973a; Kratochvil, 1973). However, it now passed already more than a
half century after the proposition of the multiplicative decomposition of
deformation gradient tensor. In the meantime, unfortunately the
hypoelastic-based plasticity has been studied enthusiastically by numer-
ous workers represented by Rodney Hill and James R. Rice after the
proposition of the hypoelasticity by Truesdell (1955), which is not based
on the multiplicative decomposition so that it is limited to the infinitesi-
mal elastic deformation and accompanied with the cumbersome time-
integration procedure of the corotational rates of the stress and tensor-
valued internal variables. In addition, the concept of the multiplicative
decomposition has not been delineated properly even in the
notable books referring to this concept (cf. Lubliner, 1990; Simo, 1998;
Simo and Hughes, 1998; Lubarda, 2002; Haupt, 2002; Nemat-Nasser,
2004; Asaro and Lubarda, 2006; Bonet and Wood, 2008; de Sauza Neto
et al., 2008; Gurtin et al., 2010; Hashiguchi and Yamakawa, 2012;
Belytshko et al., 2014, etc.).
The multiplicative hyperelastic based plasticity has been studied
centrally by Simo and his colleagues (e.g., Simo, 1985, 1988a,b, 1992;
Simo and Ortiz, 1985) in the last century, in which the logarithmic strain
has been used mainly leading to the coaxiality of stress and strain rate
so that it has been limited to the isotropy. It has been developed actively
from the beginning of this century by Lion (2000), Menzel and
Steinmann (2003a,b), Wallin et al. (2003), Dettmer and Reese (2004),
Menzel et al. (2005), Wallin and Ristinmaa (2005), Gurtin and Anand
(2005), Sansour et al. (2006, 2007), Vladimirov et al. (2008, 2010),
xiv Preface

Henann and Anand (2009), Brepols et al. (2014), etc., in which constitu-
tive relations are formulated in the intermediate configuration imagined
fictitiously by the unloading to the stress-free state along the hyperelas-
tic relation, based on the isoclinic concept (Mandel, 1971). However, the
plastic flow rule with the generality unlimited to the elastic isotropy
remains unsolved and only the conventional plasticity model, named by
Drucker (1998), with the yield surface enclosing the elastic domain have
been incorporated so that only the monotonic loading behavior of elasti-
cally isotropic materials is concerned in them.
The subloading multiplicative hyperelastic based plastic model has
been formulated by the author recently (Hashiguchi, 2018c), which is
capable of describing the finite elastoplastic deformation/rotation rigor-
ously under the monotonic/cyclic loading process. Further, it has been
extended to the subloading-multiplicative hyperelastic-based viscoplas-
ticity recently, which is capable of describing the rate-dependent elasto-
plastic deformation behavior at the general rate from the static to the
impact loading. It is to be the best opportunity to review the multiplica-
tive hyperelastic based plasticity comprehensively and explain the
detailed formulation of the subloading multiplicative hyperelas-
tic based plastic model systematically. This is the first book on the sub-
loading multiplicative hyperelastic based plasticity and viscoplasticity
for the description of the general irreversible deformation/sliding
behavior.
The subloading surface model and the multiplicative hyperelas-
tic based plasticity are explained comprehensively providing the
detailed physical interpretations for all relevant concepts and the deriv-
ing processes of all equations. Further, the incorporation of the subload-
ing surface model to the multiplicative hyperelastic plastic relation is
described in detail. Further, it is extended to the description of the vis-
coplastic deformation by incorporating the concept of overstress, which
is capable of describing the general rate of deformation ranging from
the quasistatic to the impact loading behaviors (Hashiguchi, 2016a,
2017a). In addition, the exact hyperelastic based plastic and viscoplastic
constitutive equation of friction (Hashiguchi, 2018c) is formulated rigor-
ously, while the hypoelastic-based plastic constitutive equation of fric-
tion has been formulated formerly (Hashiguchi et al., 2005; Hashiguchi
and Ozaki, 2008; Hashiguchi, 2013a).
The aim of this book is to give a comprehensive explanation of the
finite elastoplasticity theory and viscoplasticity under the monotonic
and the cyclic loading processes. The incorporation of the Lagrangian
tensors is required originally in the formulation of finite elastoplasticity
and viscoplasticity, since the deformation of the material involved in
the reference configuration, which is invariant through the deformation,
is physically relevant. Therefore the necessity and the meanings of the
 Preface xv

Lagrangian tensors and the transformations rules between the Eulerian

and the Lagrangian tensors, that is, the pull-back and push-forward
operations are explained concisely. Various Lagrangian stress tensors
are derived based on the requirement of the work-conjugacy from the
Cauchy stress tensor in the current configuration. To this end, the
descriptions of physical quantities and relations in the embedded (con-
vected) coordinate system, which turns into the curvilinear coordinate
system under the deformation of material, are required, since their
physical meanings can be captured clearly by observing them in the
coordinate system that not only moves but also deforms and rotates
with material itself. In other words, the essentials of continuum mechan-
ics cannot be captured without the incorporation of the general curvilin-
ear coordinate system, to which the embedded coordinate system
changes, although the explanation only in the rectangular coordinate
system is given in a lot of books entitled “continuum mechanics.”
The author expects that the readers of this book will capture the fun-
damentals in the finite-strain elastoplasticity theory and they will con-
tribute to the development of mechanical designs of machinery and
structures in the field of engineering practice by applying the theories
addressed in this book. A reader is apt to give up reading through a
book if one encounters a matter that is uneasy to understand by insuffi-
cient explanation. For this reason, the detailed explanations of physical
concepts in elastoplasticity are delineated, and the derivations/transfor-
mation processes of all equations are given with detailed proofs but
without abbreviation.
The author wishes to express cordial thanks to his colleagues at
Kyushu University, who have discussed and collaborated over several
decades: Prof. M. Ueno (currently Emeritus Professor at University of
the Ryukyus) in particular, and Dr. T. Okayasu (currently Associate
Professor at Kyushu University), Dr. S. Tsutsumi (currently Associate
Professor at Osaka University), Dr. T. Ozaki of Kyushu Electric Eng.
Consult. Inc., Dr. S. Ozaki (currently Associate Professor at Yokohama
National University), and Dr. T. Mase of Tokyo Electric Power Services
Co., Ltd. (currently Professor of Tezukayama Gakuin Univ.)
Furthermore, the author is thankful to Dr. K. Okamura, Dr. N.
Suzuki, and Dr. R. Higuchi, Nippon Steel & Sumitomo Metal
Corporation, Dr. M. Oka and Mr. T. Anjiki, Yanmar Co. Ltd., for the col-
laborations on constitutive relations of metals and the numerical calcu-
lations. In particular, the numerical calculations performed by Mr. T.
Anjiki was quite effective for the improvement of the subloading-
overstress model. The author is also grateful to Mr. T. Kato (President)
and Dr. M. Tateishi (Fellow), MSC Software, Ltd., Japan for the standard
implementation of the Hashiguchi (subloading surface) model to the
commercial FEM (Finite Element Method) software Marc.
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"Knight of the red shield," she said.
"Madame?"
"I ask you an honest question. If you would serve me, speak
the truth, and let me know my peril. Are you the Lord Flavian of
Gambrevault, or no?"
The man never hesitated an instant. There was no wavering to
cast doubt upon his sincerity, or upon his intelligence as a liar.
"No, madame," he answered her, "I am not the Lord of
Gambrevault and Avalon, and may I, for the sake of my own neck,
never come single-handed within his walls. I have an old feud with
the lords of Gambrevault, and when the chance comes, I shall settle
it heavily to my credit. If you have any ill to say of the gentleman,
pray say it, and be happy in my sympathy."
"Ha," she said, with a sudden flash of malice, "I would give my
soul for that fellow's head."
"So," quoth the man, with a keen look, "that would be a most
delectable bargain."

IV

The stems thinned about them suddenly, and the sky grew great
beyond a more meagre screen of boughs. To the west, breaking the
blood-red canopy with an edge of agate, rocks towered
heavenwards, smiting golden-fanged into a furnace of splendour.
Waves of light beat in spray upon the billowy masses of the trees,
dying in the east into a majestic mask of gloom.
Yeoland and the man in red came forth into a little glade,
hollowed by the waters of a rush-edged pool. A stream, a scolloped
sheet of foam, stumbled headlong into the mere, vanishing beyond
like a frail white ghost into the woods. A fire danced in the open,
and under the trees stood a pavilion of red cloth.
The man dismounted and held the girl's stirrup. A quick glance
round the glade had shown her bales of merchandise, littering the
green carpet of the place, horses tethered in the wood, men moving
like gnomes about the fire. Even as she dismounted, streaks of steel
shone out in the surrounding shadows. Armed men streamed in, and
piled their pikes and bills about the pines.
At the western end of the glade, a gigantic fir, a forest patriarch,
stood out above the more slender figures of his fellows. The
grotesque roots, writhing like talons, tressled a bench of boughs and
skins. Before the tree burnt a fire, the draught sweeping upwards to
fan the fringe of the green fir's gown. The man in the black harness
took Yeoland to the seat under the tree. The boughs arched them
like a canopy, and the wood fire gave a lusty heat in the gloaming.
A boy had run forward to unhelm the knight in the red cloak.
Casque and sword lay on the bench of boughs and skins. The girl's
glance framed for the first time the man's face. She surveyed him at
her leisure under drooping lids, with a species of reticent interest
that escaped boldness. It was one of those incidents to her that
stand up above the plain of life, and build individual history.
She saw a bronzed man with a tangle of tawny-red hair, a great
beak of a nose, and a hooked chin. His eyes were like amber, darting
light into the depth of life, alert, deep, and masterful. There was a
rugged and indomitable vigour in the face. The mouth was of iron,
yet not unkind; the jaw ponderous; the throat bovine. The mask of
youth had palpably forsaken him; Life, that great chiseller of faces,
had set her tool upon his features, moulding them into a strenuous
and powerful dignity that suited his soul.
He appeared to fathom the spirit of the girl's scrutiny, nor did he
take umbrage at the open and critical revision of her glances. He
inferred calmly enough, that she considered him by no means
blemishless in feature or in atmosphere. Probably he had long
passed that age when the sanguine bachelor never doubts of
plucking absolute favour from the eyes of a woman. The girl was not
wholly enamoured of him. He was rational enough to read that in
her glances.
"Madame is in doubt," he said to her, with a glimmer of a smile.
"As to what, messire?"
"My character."
"You prefer the truth?"
"Am I not a philosopher?"
"Hear the truth then, messire, I would not have you for a
master."
The man laughed, a quiet, soundless laugh through half-closed
lips. There was something magnetic about his grizzled and ironical
strength, cased in its shell of blackened steel. He had the air of one
who had learnt to toy with his fellows, as with so many strutting
puppets. The world was largely a stage to him, grotesque at some
seasons, strenuous at others.
"Ha, a miracle indeed," he said, "a woman who can tell the
truth."
She ignored the gibe and ran on.
"Your name, messire?"
The man spread his hands.
"Pardon the omission. I am known as Fulviac of the Forest. My
heritage I judge to be the sword, and the shadows of these same
wilds."
Yeoland considered him awhile in silence. The firelight flickered
on his harness, glittering on the ribbed and jointed shoulder plates,
striking a golden streak from the edge of each huge pauldron. Mimic
flames burnt red upon his black cuirass, as in a darkened mirror. The
night framed his figure in an aureole of gloom, as he sat with his
massive head motionless upon its rock-like throat.
"Five years ago," she said suddenly, "you rode as a noble in the
King's train. Now you declare yourself a thief. These things do not
harmonise unless you confess to a dual self."
"Madame," he answered her, "I confess to nothing. If you would
be wise, eschew the past, and consider the present at your service. I
am named Fulviac, and I am an outlaw. Let that grant you
satisfaction."
Yeoland glanced over the glade, walled in with the gloom of the
woods, the stream foaming in the dusk, the armed men gathered
about the further fire.
"And these?" she asked.
"Are mine."
"Outcasts also?"
"Say no hard things of them; they are folk whom the world has
treated scurvily; therefore they are at feud with the world. The times
are out of joint, tyrannous and heavy to bear. The nobles like
millstones grind the poor into pulp, tread out the life from them, that
the wine of pleasure may flow into gilded chalices. The world is
trampled under foot. Pride and greed go hand in hand against us."
She looked at him under her long lashes, with the zest of cavil
slumbering in her eyes. Autocracy was a hereditary right with her,
even though feudalism had slain her sire.
"I would have the mob held in check," she said to him.
"And how? By cutting off a man's ears when he spits a stag. By
splitting his nose for some small sin. By branding beggars who
thieve because their children starve. Oh, equable and honest justice!
God prevent me from being poor."
She looked at him with her great solemn eyes.
"And you?" she asked.
He spread his arms with a half-flippant dignity.
"I, madame, I take the whole world into my bosom."
"And play the Christ weeping over Jerusalem?"
"Madame, your wit is excellent."
A spit had been turning over the large fire, a haunch of venison
being basted thereon by a big man in the cassock of a friar. Certain
of Fulviac's fellows came forward bearing wine in silver-rimmed
horns, white bread and meat upon platters of wood. They stood and
served the pair with a silent and soldierly briskness that bespoke
discipline. The girl's hunger was as healthy as her sleek, plump neck,
despite the day's hazard and her homeless peril.
Dusk had fallen fast; the last pennon of day shone an eerie
streak of saffron in the west. The forest stood wrapped in the
stupendous stillness of the night. An impenetrable curtain of ebony
closed the glade with its rush-edged pool.
Fulviac's servers had retreated to the fire, where a ring of rough
faces shone in the wayward light. The sound of their harsh voices
came up to the pair in concord with the perpetual murmur of the
stream. Yeoland had shaken the bread-crumbs from her green
gown. She was comforted in the flesh, and ready for further foining
with the man who posed as her captor.
"Sincerity is a rare virtue," she said, with a slight lifting of the
angles of her mouth.
"I can endorse that dogma."
 "Do you pretend to the same?"
"Possibly."
"You love the poor, conceive their wrongs to be your own?"
Fulviac smiled in his eyes like a man pleased with his own
thoughts.
"Have I not said as much?"
"Well?"
"I revere my own image."
"And fame?"
He commended her and unbosomed in one breath.
"Pity," he said, "is often a species of splendid pride. We toil, we
fight, we labour. Why? Because below all life and effort, there burns
an immortal egotism, an eternal vanity. 'Liberty, liberty,' we cry,
'liberty and justice man for man.' Yet how the soul glows at the
sound of its own voice! The human self hugs fame, and mutters, 'Lo,
what a god am I in the eyes of the world!'"

Silence fell between them for a season, a silence deep and intangible
as the darkness of the woods. The man's mood had recovered its
subtle calm, even as a pool that has been stirred momentarily by the
plashing of a stone sinks into rippleless repose. He sat with folded
arms before the flare of the fire, watching the girl under his heavy
brows.
 She was very fair to look upon, slim, yet spirited as a band of
steel. Her ears shone out from her dusky hair like apple blossoms in
a mist of leaves. Her lips were blood-red, sensitive, clean as the
petals of a rose. Her great grief had chastened her. From the curve
of her neck to the delicate strength of her white hands, she was as
rich an idyll as a man could desire.
Fulviac considered her with a thought that leant philosophically
towards her beauty. He had grown weary of love in his time; the
passions of youth had burnt to dry ashes; possibly he had been
luckless in his knowledge of the sex. He had married a wife of
irreproachable birth, a lady with a sharp nose and a lipless mouth,
eyes of green, and a most unholy temper. She was dead, had been
dead many years. The man had no delirious desire to meet her
again in heaven. As for this girl, he had need of her for revolutionary
reasons, and his mood to her was more that of a father. Her spirit
pleased him. Moreover, he knew what he knew.
Gazing at the flames, he spread his hands to them, and entered
again on the confines of debate. His voice had the steady, rhythmic
insistence of a bell pealing a curfew. Its tone was that of a man not
willing to be gainsaid.
"Therefore, madame, I would have you understand that I desire
in some measure to be a benefactor to the human race."
"I take your word for it," she answered him.
"That I am an ambitious man, somewhat vain towards fame,
one that can glow in soul."
"A human sun."
"So."
"That loves to be thought great through warming the universe."
 "Madame, you are epigrammatic."
"Or enigmatic, messire."
"As you will," he answered her; "your womanhood makes you
an enigma; it is your birthright. Understand that I possess power."
"Fifty cut-throats tied to a purse."
"Consider me a serious figure in the world's sum."
"As you will, messire. You are an outlaw, a leader of fifty
vagabonds, a man with ideals as to the establishing of justice. You
are going to subvert the country. Very good. I have learnt my lesson.
But how is all this going to help me out of the wood?"
Fulviac took his sword, and balanced it upon his wrist. The red
light from the fire flashed on the swaying steel.
"Our hopes are more near of kin, madame, than you imagine."
"Well?"
"Flavian of Gambrevault's raiders burnt your home, slew your
father, exterminated your brethren. This happened but a day ago.
You do not love this Flavian of Gambrevault."
Her whole figure stiffened spasmodically as at the prick of a
sword. Her eyes, with widely open pupils, flashed up to Fulviac's
face. She questioned him through her set teeth with a passionate
whisper of desire.
"How do you know this?"
His face mellowed; the arm bearing the sword was steady as
the limb of an oak.
"I am wiser in many ways than you imagine," he said. "Look at
me, I am no longer young; I hate women; I patronise God. You are
a mere child; to you life is dark and perilous as this wilderness of
pines. Your trouble is known to me, because it is my business to
know of such things. It was my deliberate intent that you should fall
into my hands to-day."
The girl was still rigidly astonied. She stared at him mutely with
dubious eyes. The man and his philosophy were beyond her for the
moment.
"Well?" she said to him with a quaver of entreaty.
"First, you will honour me by saying that I have your trust."
"How may I promise you that?"
"Because I am surety for my own honour."
She smiled in his face despite the occasion.
"You seem very sure of your own soul," she said.
"Madame, it has taken me ten years to come by so admirable a
state. Self-knowledge carried to the depths, builds up self-trust. I
may take it for granted that you hate the Lord Flavian of
Gambrevault?"
"Need you ask that!"
Her eyes echoed the mood of the flame. Fulviac, watching her,
saw the strong wrack of wrath twisting her delicate features for the
moment into pathetic ugliness.
"You have courage," he said to her.
"Ample, messire."
"Flavian of Gambrevault is the greatest lord in the south."
"I am as wise."
"On that score, this Flavian and Fulviac of the Forest are
irreconcilable as day and night."
The man stood his sword pommel upwards in the grass, and ran
on.
 "Some day I shall slay this same Flavian of Gambrevault. His
blood will expiate the blood of these your kinsfolk. Therefore,
madame, you will be my debtor."
"That is all?" she asked him with a wistfulness in her voice that
was even piteous.
Fulviac looked long into the fire like a man whose thoughts
channel under the crust of years. Pity for the girl had gone to the
heart under the steel cuirass, a pity that was not the pander of
desire. His eyes took a new meaning into their keen depths; he
looked to have grown suddenly younger by some years. When he
spoke again, his voice had lost its half-mocking and grandiose
confidence. It was the voice of a man who strides generous and
eager into the breach of fate.
"Listen," he said to her, "I may tell you that your sorrow has
armed my manhood. Give me my due; I am more than a mere
vagabond. You have been cruelly dealt with; I take your cause upon
the cross of my sword."
"You, messire?"
"Even so. I need a good woman, a brave woman. You please
me."
"Well?"
"You are a necessity to me."
"And why, messire?"
"For a matter of religion and of justice. Trust to my honour. You
shall learn more in due season."
Yeoland, smitten with incredulity, stared at the man in mute
surmise. Here was an amazing circumstance--robbery idealised, soul,
body, purse, at one bold swoop. In her mystification, she could find
nothing to say to the man for the moment, even though he had
promised her a refuge.
"You are very sure of yourself," she said at length.
"I am a man."
"Yet you leave me in ignorance."
"Madame, we are to undertake great deeds together, great
perils. I could hold up an astonishing future to your eyes, but for the
present I keep silence. Rest assured that you shall be accorded such
honour as the Virgin herself could desire. Remember that I give you
promise of vengeance, and a home."
The girl drew a deep breath, as though taking the spirit of the
hour into her bosom.
"If I refuse?" she said to him.
"You cannot refuse," came the level retort.
"And why, messire?"
"Your consent, though pleasant, is not necessary in the matter. I
have long ago determined to appropriate you to my ambition."

VI

Fulviac's lair lay deep within the waving wilderness of pines. Above
the spires of the forest, a massive barrier of rock thrust up its
rugged bartisans into the blue. East and west it stretched a mile or
more, concavitated towards the north, and standing like a huge
breakwater amid the sea of boughs.
 The rocky plateau above was peopled by pines and rowans,
thatched also with a wild tangle of briar, whin, and heather. Crannies
cleft into it; caves tunnelled its massive bosom; innumerable
minarets of stone mingled with the wind-wracked trees. The cliffs
rose like the walls of a castle donjon from the forest floor, studded
with dwarf trees, bearded with ferns and grass. The plateau was
inaccessible from the forest save by a thin rocky track, where the
western slope of the cliff tailed off to merge into the trees.
The significance of the place to Fulviac lay in the existence of a
cavern or series of caves piercing the cliff, and opening both upon
the southern and northern facades of the mass. A wooden causeway
led to the southern entry, bridging a small gorge where a stream
foamed under the pines. The yawn of the southern opening had
been built up with great blocks of stone, and the rough walls pierced
by narrow squints, and a gate opening under a rounded arch.
Within, the roof of the main cavern arched abruptly upwards,
hollowing a great dome over the smooth floor beneath. This
grotesque and rock-ripped hall served as guard-room and dormitory,
a very various chamber. Winding ways smote from it into the black
bowels of the cliff. The height of the main cavern dwindled as it
tunnelled northwards into the rock. A second wall of stone
partitioned the guard-room from a second and smaller chamber, lit
always by a great lamp pendent from the ceiling, a chamber that
served Fulviac as state-room.
From Fulviac's parlour the cavern narrowed to a throat-like
gallery that had been expanded by human craft into a third and
smaller room. This last rock chamber was wholly more healthy and
habitable than the others. Its walls stood squarely from floor to
rocky roof, and it was blessed with a wide casement, that stared
northwards over a vista of obeisant trees. A postern gave entry to
the room from a narrow platform, and from this ledge a stairway cut
in the flank of the cliff dwindled into the murk of the forest below.
A more romantic atmosphere had swept into the bleak galleries
of the place that winter. Plundered stores were ransacked, bales of
merchandise ungirded, caskets and chests pilfered as for the
endowing of the chamber of a queen. The northern room in the cliff
blossomed into the rich opulence of a lady's bower. Its stone walls
were panelled with old oak carvings taken from some ancient manor.
There were tapestries of green, gold, and purple; an antique bed
with a tester of silver silk, its flanks blazoned with coloured
escutcheons. Painted glass, azure, red, and gold, jewelled the
casement, showing also Sebastian bound to his martyr's tree. A Jew
merchant plundered on the road had surrendered a set of brazen
ewers, a lute inlaid with pearl, a carpet woven on the looms of the
purple East. There were mirrors of steel about the walls. A carved
prayer-desk, an embroidery frame, a crucifix wrought in ivory:
Fulviac had consecrated all these to Yeoland, dead Rual's daughter.
A white lily amid a horde of thistles! The girl's life had drawn
under the black shadow of the cliff, and into the clanging torrent of
these rough men of the sword. It was a wild age and a wild region.
Fulviac's rogues were like wolves in a forest lair, keen, bloody, and
relentless. There was a rude strain of violence running through the
strenuous mood of the place, like the song of Norse rovers, piercing
the roar of the sea. Mystery enveloped the girl, war, and the sound
of the sword. She fumbled at the riddle of Fate with the trembling
fingers of one who unbars a prison gate in the hush of night. It was
all strange and fantastic beyond the riot of a dream.
"Madame," Fulviac had said to her when he had hung a key at
her girdle, "I have bidden you trust me; remember that I trust you in
turn. Take this room as your sanctuary. Lock me out when you will. I
prepare, among other things, to perfect your vengeance."
Yeoland suffered him and her necessity. She was shrewdly wise
in the conviction that it would be useless to rebel against the man.
Though over-masterful and secretive, his purpose appeared
benignant in the opulence of its favour. Moreover, the forest was as a
vast web holding her within the maze of the unknown.
"I have no alternative," she said to him, "I am in your power.
And yet, I believe you are no villain."
"Your charity pleases me. I am a man with a strong purpose."
"For good?"
"Do I not need you?"
"Am I then so powerful a person?"
"You will learn anon."
"You seem something of a mystic," she said to him.
"Madame," he retorted, "trust my discretion. In due season I
shall unfold to you certain aspects of life that will kindle your
sympathies. I shall appeal to the woman in you. When you are wise
you will commend my ambition."
"You speak in riddles."
"Wait. As yet you see through a glass darkly."
From the mountainous north to the warm southern sea, from
the wooded west to the eastern fens, the good King ruled, holding
many great barons in feudal faith, and casting his fetters of gold
over Church and State. Chivalry moved through the world to the
clangour of arms and the songs of the troubadour. Lutes sounded on
terrace and in garden, fair women bloomed like roses, bathed in a
sensuous blaze of romance. Baron made war upon baron; glory and
death were crowned together. The painter spread his colours in the
halls of the great; the goldsmith and the carver wrought wondrous
things to charm the eye. Church bells tolled. Proud abbots carried
the sword, and made fine flutter among the women. Innumerable
saints crowded the avenues to heaven. It was a fair age and very
lovely, full of colour and desire, music and the odour of romance.
And the poor? Their lot hung largely on the humour of an
overlord, or the state of a gentleman's stomach. They had their
saints' days, their games, their pageants, their miracle plays. They
had hovels of clay and wattle; labour in wind and rain; plagues and
pestilences in the rotting filth of their city alleys. They marked the
great folk go by in silks and cloth of gold, saw the pomp and
opulence of that other life, remembered their own rags and their
squealing children.
And yet, consider the broad inclinations of the world. To eat, to
be warm, to satisfy the flesh, to ease a lust, to drink beer. There was
no very vast gulf betwixt the rich man and the poor. The one feasted
to music, the other scraped a bone to the dirge of toil. They had like
appetites, like satisfactions, and hell is considered to be Utopian in
the extreme. The poor man envied the rich; the rich man ruled the
poor. Envy, that jingling demagogue, has made riotous profit out of
such a stew since the world was young.
Fulviac's cliff was shut out from the ken of man by leagues of
woodland, moor, and waste. The great pine forest girded it in its
inmost bosom. No wayfarers rode that way; no huntsman ranged so
deep; the place had an evil rumour; many whom it had welcomed
had never returned. Romancers had sung of it, the lay of Guingamor.
Horror ruled black-browed over its pine-cumbered hills, its gloomy
depths. Solitude abode there, as over a primæval sea, and there was
no sound save the moan or storm-cry of the wind over its troubled
trees.
According to legend lore, Romulus peopled Rome with the
offscourings of Italy. Fulviac had emulated the device with the state-
craft of a strong conspirator. The forest stood a grand accomplice,
abetting him with its myriad sentinels, who gossiped solely with the
wind. The venture had been finely conceived, finely edificated. A
cliff, a cave, five-score armed men. Not a vast power on the face of
it to threaten a system or to shake a throne. Superficialities were
fallacious, the surface false and fair as glistening ice. The forest hid
more than a company of ruffians banded together to resist tyranny.
Enthusiasm, genius, vigour, such torches, like a burning hovel, can
fling a city into flame.
As for the girl Yeoland, she was more than mocked by the swift
vagaries of life. Two days of mordant realism had erased from her
heart the dream visions of childhood. To be declared homeless,
kinless, in one day; to be bereft of liberty the next! To what end?
She stared round the richly-garnished room into which Fate had
thrust her, fingered the pearl-set lute, gazed at her own face in the
steel mirrors. She was the same woman, yet how differently
circumstanced! Fulviac's mood had not hinted at love, or at any
meaner jest. What power could he prophesy to his advantage in the
mere fairness of her face? What was the gall of a woman's
vengeance to a man who had conceived the downfall of a kingdom?
Her knowledge of psychology was rustic in the extreme, and she
had no wit for the unravelling of Fulviac's subtleties. There were
certain convictions, however, that abode with her even in her
ignorance. She could have taken oath that he was no mere
swashbuckler, no captain of outlaws, no mere spoiler of men.
Moreover, she believed him to be the possessor of some honour, and
a large guerdon of virility. Lastly, pity appealed her as a sentiment
not to be discarded. The man, whoever he might be, appeared
desirous of putting his broad shoulders betwixt her and the world.
Fulviac grew perspicuous sooner than she could have
prophesied. He had a fine, cloud-soaring way with him that seemed
to ignore the mole-hills of common circumspection. He had wit
enough also to impose his trust on others with a certain graceful
confidence that carried bribery in the very generosity of its
hardiness.
March was upon them like a spirit of discord, wild, riotous
weather, with the wind thundering like storm-waves upon the cliff.
The pines were buffeting each other in the forest, and reeling
beneath the scourgings of the breeze. Fulviac came to the girl one
windy noon, when the caverns were full of the breath of the storm.
His manner to her seemed as a significant prelude, heralding the
deep utterance of some human epic.
Fulviac took the girl by a winding stair leading from the guard-
room--a stair that circled upwards in the thickness of the rock some
hundred steps or more, and opened into a basin-shaped pit on the
plateau above. Dwarf trees and briars domed the hollow, giving
vision of a grey and hurrying sky. The pair climbed a second stair
that led to a rock perched like a pulpit on the margin of the southern
precipice. The wind swept gusty and tempestuous over the cliff. It
tossed back the girl's hood, made her stagger; she would have fallen
had not Fulviac gripped her arm.
Below stretched an interminable waste of trees, of bowing pine-
tops, and dishevelled boughs. The dull green of the forest merged
into the grey of the cloud-strewn sky. On either hand the craggy
bulwarks of the cliffs stretched east and west, its natural bartisans
and battlements topped by a cornice of mysterious pines. It was a
superb scene, rich with a wild liberty, stirred by the wizard chanting
of the wind.
Fulviac watched the girl as she stood limned against the grey
curtain of the sky. Her hair blew about her white throat and
shoulders in sombre streams; her eyes were very bright under their
dusky lashes; and the wind had kissed a stronger colour into her
cheeks. She was clad in a kirtle of laurel-green cloth, bound about
the waist with a girdle of silver. A white kerchief lay like snow over
her shoulders and bosom; her green sleeves were slashed and
puffed with crimson.
"Wild country," he said, looking in her eyes.
"Wild as the sea."
"You are a romanticist."
She gave a curt laugh.
"After what I have suffered!"
"Romance and sorrow go hand in hand. For the moment my
words are more material. You see this cliff?"
She turned to him and stood watching his face.
 "This cliff is the core of a kingdom. A granite wedge to hurl
feudalism to ruins, to topple tyranny."
She nodded slowly, with a grave self-reservation.
"You have hinted that you are ambitious," she said.
"Ambition would have stormed heaven."
"And your ladder?"
The man made a strong gesture, like one who points a
squadron to the charge. His eyes shone with a glint of grimness
under his shaggy brows.
"The rabid discontent of the poor, fermenting ever under the
crust of custom. The hate of the toiler for the fop and the fool. The
iron that lies under the rusting injustice of riches. The storm-cry of a
people's vengeance against the tyrant and the torturer."
Yeoland, solemn of face, groped diligently amid her surmises.
The man was a visionary by his own showing; it was impossible to
mistake him for a fool. Like all beings of uncommon power, he
combined imagination with that huge vigour of mind that moves the
world. A vast element of strength lay coiled in him, subtle, yet
overpowering as the body of some great reptile. The girl felt the
gradual magic of his might mesmerising her with the inevitableness
of its approach.
"You have brought me here?" she asked him.
"As I promised."
"Well?"
"To tell you something of the truth."
She looked at him with a penetrating frankness that was in
spirit--laudatory.
"You put great trust in me," she said.
 "That I may trust the more."
He sat himself down on a ledge of rock, and proceeded to
parade before her imagination such visions as were well conceived
to daze the reason of a girl taken fresh from a forest hermitage. He
spoke of riot, revolution, and revenge; painted Utopias established
beneath the benediction of a just personal tyranny, a country purged
of oppression, a kingdom cleansed of pride. He told of arms stored
in the warrens of the cliff, of grain and salted meat sufficient for an
army. He pointed out the vast strength of the place, the plateau
approachable only by the stairway in the cliff, and the narrow
causeway towards the west. He described it as sufficient for the
gathering and massing of a great host. Finally, he swept his hand
over the leagues of forestland, dark as the sea, isleting the place
from the ken of the world.
"You understand me?" he said to her.
She nodded and waited with closed lips. He gazed at the
horizon, and spoke in parables.
"The King and the nobles are throned upon a pile of brushwood.
A torch is plunged beneath; a tempest scourges the beacon into a
furnace. The kingdom burns."
"Yes?"
"Consider me no mere visionary; I have the country at my back.
For five years the work has gone on in secret. I have trusted nothing
to chance. It needs a bold man to strike at a kingdom. I--Fulviac, am
that man."

VII
The free city of Gilderoy climbed red-roofed up a rocky hill, a hill
looped south-east and west by the blue breadth of the river Tamar.
Its castle, coroneting the central rock, smote into the azure, a sheaf
of glistening towers and turrets, vaned with gold. Lower still, the
cathedral's sable crown brooded above a myriad red-tiled roofs and
wooden gables. Many fair gardens blazoned the higher slopes of the
city. Tall walls of grey stone ringed round the whole, grim and quaint
with bartisan and turret. To the north, green meadows dipped to the
billowy distance of the woods. The silver streak of the sea could be
seen southwards from the platforms of the castle.
Gilderoy was a rich city and a populous, turbulent withal,
holding honourable charters from the King, exceeding proud of its
own freedom. Its Guilds were the wealthiest in all the south; the
coffers of its Commune overflowed with gold. Nowhere was fairer
cloth woven than in Gilderoy. Nowhere could be found more cunning
smiths, more subtle armourers. The mansions of its rich merchant
folk were wondrous opulent and great, bedight with goodly tapestry
and all manner of rare furniture. Painters had gathered to it from the
far south; its courtezans were the joy of the whole kingdom.
Two days after his confessions on the cliff, Fulviac took horse,
mounted Yeoland on a white palfrey, and rode for Gilderoy through
the forest. The man was upholstered as a merchant, in a plum-
coloured cloak, a cap of sables, and a Venetian mail cape. Yeoland
wore a light blue jupon edged with silver, a green kirtle, a cloak of
brocaded Tartarin. She rode beside the man, demure as a daughter,
her bridle of scarlet leather merry with silver bells. Two armed
servants and some six packhorses completed the cavalcade.
 Fulviac had fallen into one of his silent moods that day. He was
saturnine and enigmatic as though immersed in thought. The girl
won nothing from him as to the purpose of their ride. They were for
Gilderoy; thus much he vouchsafed her, and no more. She had a
shrewd belief that he was for giving her tangible evidence of the
hazardous schemes that were fermenting under the surface of
silence, and that she was to learn more of the tempest that was
gathering in the dark. Being tactful in her generation, she asked him
no questions, and kept her conjectures to herself.
They broke their ride to pass the night at a wayside hostelry,
where the road from Gambrevault skirted the forest. Holding on at
their good leisure on the following day, they entered Gilderoy by the
northern gate, towards evening, with the cathedral bell booming a
challenge to the distant sea. Crossing the great square with its tall
mansions of carved oak and chiselled stone, they plunged into a
narrow highway that curled downhill under a hundred overhanging
gables. Set back in a murky court, a tavern hung out its gilded sign
over the cobbles, a Golden Leopard, that groaned in the wind on its
rusty hinges. The inn's casements glowed red under the gloom of
roof and bracket. Fulviac rode into its stone-paved court with its
balustraded gallery, its carved stairways, its creaking lamps swaying
under the high-peaked gables.
Their horses were taken by a lean groom, blessed with a most
malevolent squint. On the lower step of the gallery stair stood a
rotund little man, with a bunch of keys reposing on his stomach, the
light from a lantern overhead shining on his bald pate, as on a half
sphere of alabaster. He seemed to sweat beef and beer at every
pore. Shuffling his feet, he tilted his double chin to the sky, as
though he were conducting a monologue under the stars.
"No brew yet," he hummed in a high falsetto, throaty and puling
from so ponderous a carcase.
Fulviac set one foot on the stairs.
"St. Prosper's wine, fat Jean," he said.
The rotund soul turned his face suddenly earthwards, as though
he had been jerked down by one leg out of heaven.
"Ah, sire, it is you."
"Who else? What of the good folk of Gilderoy?"
"Packed like a crowd of rats in a drain. Will your honour sup?"
The man stood aside with a great sweep of the hand, and a
garlic-ladened breath given full in Yeoland's face.
"And the lady, sire, a cup of purple; the roads are dry?"
Fulviac pushed up the stairs.
"We are late, and supped as we came. Your private cellar will
suit us better."
"Of a truth, sire, most certainly."
"Send the men back with the horses; Damian has his orders,
and your money-bag."
"Rely on my dispatch, sire."
"Well, then, roll on."
Fat Jean, sweaty deity of pot and gridiron, took the keys from
his girdle and a lantern from a niche in the wall. Going at a wheezy
shuffle, he led them by a long passage and two circles of stairs to a
cellar packed with hogsheads, tuns, and great vats of copper. From
the first cellar a second opened, from the second, a third. In the last
vault Jean rolled a cask from a corner, turned a flagstone on its side,
showed them a narrow stairway descending into the dark.
Fulviac took the lantern, made a sign to Jean, and passed down
the stairway with Yeoland at his heels. The tavern-keeper remained
above in the cellar, and closed the stone when the last gleam of the
light had died down the stair. He rolled the cask back into its place,
and felt his way back by cellar and stairway to the benignant glow of
his own tavern room.
Fulviac and the girl had descended the black well of the stair.
Tunnels of gloom ran labyrinthine on every hand; a musty scent
burdened the air, and fine sand covered the floor. Fulviac held the
lantern shoulder-high, took Yeoland's wrist, and moved forward into
a great gallery that sloped downwards into the depths of the rock.
The place was silent as the death-chamber of a pyramid. The lantern
fashioned fantastic shadows from the gloom.
Yeoland held close to the man with an instinct towards trust
that made her smile at her own thoughts. Fulviac had been in her
life little more than a week; yet his unequivocating strength had won
largely upon her liking--in no sentimental sense indeed, but rather
with the calm command of power. Possibly she feared him a very
little. Yet with the despair of a wrecked mariner she clung to him, in
spirit, as she would have clung to a rock.
As they passed down the gallery with the lantern swinging in
Fulviac's hand, she began to question him with a quiet persistence.
"What place is this?" she said.
For retort, Fulviac pointed her to the wall, and held the lantern
to aid her scrutiny. The girl saw numberless recesses excavated in
the rock; some had been bricked up and bore tablets; others were
packed with grinning skulls. There were scattered paintings on the
walls, symbolic daubs, or scenes from scriptural history. The place
was meaningless to the girl, save that the dead seemed ever with
them.
Fulviac smiled at her solemn face.
"The catacombs of the city of Gilderoy," he said; "yonder are the
niches of the dead. These paintings were made by early folk,
centuries ago. A veritable maze this, a gallery of skulls, a warren for
ghosts to squeak in."
Yeoland had turned to scan a tablet on the wall.
"We go to some secret gathering?" she asked.
Fulviac laughed; the sound echoed through the passages with
reverberating scorn.
"The same dark fable," he said, "telling of vaults and secret
stairs, passwords and poniards, masks and murder. Remember, little
sister, you are to be black and subtle to the heart's chords. This is
life, not a romance or an Italian fable. We are men here. There is to
be no strutting on the stage."
The girl loitered a moment, as though her feet kept pace with
her cogitations.
"I am content," she said, "provided I may eschew poison, nor
need run a bodkin under some wretch's ribs."
"Be at peace on that score. I have not the heart to make a
Rosamund of you."
Sudden out of a dark bye-passage, like a rat out of a hole, a
man sprang at them and held a knife at Fulviac's throat. The mock
merchant gave the password with great unconcern, putting his cap
of sables back from off his face. The sentinel crossed himself, fell on
one knee, and gave them passage. Turning a bluff buttress of stone,
they came abruptly upon a short gallery that widened into a great
circular chamber, pillared after the manner of a church.
A flare of torches harassed the shadowy vault, and played upon
a thousand upturned faces that seemed to surge wave on wave out
of the gloom. In the centre of the crypt stood an altar of black
marble, and before it on the dais, a priest with a cowl down, a rough
wooden crucifix in his hand. A knot of men in armour gleamed about
the altar, ringing a clear space about the steps. Others, with drawn
swords, kept the entries of the galleries leading to the cavern. A
great quiet hung over the place, a silence solid as the rock above.
A group of armed men waited for Fulviac at the main entry to
the crypt. He merged into their ranks, exchanging signs and words
in an undertone with one who seemed in authority. The ring of
figures pressed through the crowd towards the altar, Fulviac and
Yeoland in their midst. Fulviac mounted the steps, and drew the girl
up beside him. He uncovered his face to the mob with the gesture of
a king uncovering to his people.
"Fulviac, Fulviac!"
The press swayed suddenly like the black waters of a lake,
stirred by the rush of flood water through a broken dam. The ring of
armed men gave up the shout with a sweeping of swords and a
clangour of harness. The great cavern took up the cry, reverberating
it from its thundering vault. A thousand hands were thrust up, as of
the dead rising from the sea.
Yeoland watched the man's face with a mute kindling of
enthusiasm. As she gazed, it beaconed forth a new dignity to her
that she had never seen thereon before. A sudden grandeur of
strength glowed from its weather-beaten features. The mouth and
jaw seemed of iron; the eyes were full of a stormy fire. It was the
face of a man transfigured, throned above himself on the burning
pinnacle of power. He towered above the mob like some granite god,
colossal in strength, colossal in courage. His manhood flamed out, a
watch-fire to the world.
As the cry dwindled, the priest, who still kept his cowl down
over his face, held his crucifix on high, and broke into the strident
cadence of a rebel ballad. The people followed as by instinct,
knowing the song of old. Many hundred voices gathered strenuously
into the flood, the massed roar rolling through the great crypt,
echoing along the galleries like the sound of some subterranean
stream. It was a deep chant and a stirring, strong with the strength
of the storm wind, fanatic as the sea.
The silence that fell at the end thereof was the more solemn in
contrast to the thundering stanzas of the hymn. Under the flare of
the torches, Fulviac stood forward to turn the task from the crucifix
to the sword.
"Men of Gilderoy."
A billow of cheering dashed again to the roof.
"Fulviac, Fulviac!"
The man suffered the cry to die into utter silence, before
leaping into a riot of words, a harangue that had more justification in
it than appeal. His voice filled the cavern with its volume and depth.
It was more the voice of a captain thundering commands to a
squadron of horse than the declamatory craft of the orator. Fulviac
knew the mob, that they were rough and turbulent, and loved a
demagogue. Scholastic subtleties could never fill their stomachs.
 "Men of Gilderoy, I come to you with the sword. Bombast,
bombast, come hither all, I'll laden ye with devilry, puff you up with
pride. Ha, who is for being strong, who for being master? Listen to
me. Damnation and death, I have the kingdom in the palm of my
hand. Liberty, liberty, liberty. We strike for the people. Geraint is
ours; Gore is ours; all the southern coast waits for the beacons.
Malgo of the Mountain holds the west like a storm cloud under his
cloak. The east raves against the King. Good. Who is for the
stronger side, for Fulviac, liberty, and the people?"
He halted a moment, took breath, quieted all clamour with a
sweep of the hand, plunged on again like a great carrack buffeting
tall billows.
"Are there spies here? By God, let them listen well, and save
their skins. Go and tell what ye have heard. Set torch to tinder.
Blood and fire, the country would be in arms before the King could
stir. No, no, there are no spies in Gilderoy; we are all brothers here.
By my sword, sirs, I swear to you, that before harvest tide, we shall
sweep the nobles into the sea."
A great shout eddied up to answer him. Fulviac's voice pierced it
like a trumpet cry.
"Liberty, liberty, and the people!"
Sound can intoxicate as well as wine. The thunder of war, the
bray of clarions, can fire even the heart of the coward. The mob
swirled about the altar of black marble, vociferous and eager.
Torches rocked to and fro in the cavern; shadows leapt grotesquely
gigantic over the rough groinings of the roof. Yet Fulviac had further
and fiercer fuel for the fire. At a sign from him, the circle of armed
men parted; two peasants stumbled forward bearing a cripple in
their arms. They carried him up the steps and set him upon the altar
before all the people, supporting him as he stared round upon the
sea of faces.
He was a shrivelled being, yellow, black of eye, cadaverous. He
looked like a man who had wallowed for years among toads in a pit,
and had become as one of them. His voice was cracked and
querulous, as he brandished a claw of a hand and screamed at the
crowd.
"Look at me, mates and brothers. Five years ago I was a tall
man and lusty. I forbade the Lord of Margradel my wife. They racked
and branded me, tossed me into a stinking pit. I am young, young. I
shall never walk again."
A woman rushed from the crowd, grey-haired, fat, and bloated.
She climbed the altar steps, and stretched out her hands in a kind of
frenzy towards the people.
"Look at me, men of Gilderoy. Last spring I had a daughter, a
clean wench as ever danced. Seek her from John of Brissac and his
devils. Ha, good words these for a mother. Men of Gilderoy,
remember your children."
Fulviac's pageant gathered grimly before the mob. A blind man
tottered up and pointed to his sightless eyes. A girl held up an
infant, and told shrilly of its father's murder. One fellow displayed a
tongueless mouth; another, a face distorted by the iron; a third had
lost nose and ears; a fourth showed arms shrivelled and contracted
by fire. It was a sinister appeal, strong yet piteous. The tyranny of
the age showed in the bodies of these wronged and mutilated
beings. They had been mere carrion tossed under the iron heel of
power. The granite car of ruthless opulence and passion had crushed
them under its reddened wheels.
At a gesture from Fulviac, the priest upon the steps threw back
his cowl and stood forward in the torchlight. His face was the face of
a zealot, fanatical, sanguine, lined with an energy that was prophetic
of power. His eyes smouldered under their straight black brows. His
hands, white and bony, quivered as he stretched them out towards
the people.
They knew him on the instant; their clamour told as much.
Often had the shadow of that thin figure fallen athwart the parched
highways of stricken cities. Often had those hands tended death,
those lips smitten awe into the souls of the drunkard and the harlot.
"Prosper, Prosper the Preacher!"
There rang a rude, rough joy in the clamour that was
spontaneous and eloquent. It was the heart's cry of the people, wild,
trusting, and passionate. Men and women broke through the circle
of armed men, cast themselves upon the altar steps, kissed the
friar's gown, and fawned on him. He put them back with a certain
awkward dignity, and a hot colour upon his almost boyish face. The
man had a fine humility, though the strenuous ideals of his soul ran
in fire to the zenith.
Anon he signed a benediction, and a hush descended on the
place.
"God's peace to you, people of Gilderoy!"
The clamour revived.
"Preach to us, preach to us!" came the cry.
The friar stretched forth his hands; his voice rang strong and
strident over the packed upturned faces.
 "Children, what need have we of words! To-night have we not
seen enough to scourge the manhood in us, to bear forth the Holy
Cross of war? The evil beast is with us even yet; Mammon the
Mighty treads you under foot. Ye saints, what cause more righteous
since the martyrs fell? Look on these scars, these wrongs, these
agonies. Preach! I am dumb beside such witnesses as these."
The crypt thundered to him when he lowered his hands. It was
the cry of men bankrupt of liberty, thirsty for revenge. Fulviac
grappled the climax, and stood forward with uplifted sword. His
lion's roar sounded above the din.
"Go, people of Gilderoy," he cried, "go--but remember. When
castles burn, and bolts scream, when spears splinter, and armies
crash to the charge, remember your children and your wrongs.
Strike home for God, and for your liberty."

VIII

The crowd had streamed from the cavern, swirling like black water
under the tossing torches, the hollow galleries reverberating to the
rush of many feet. Prosper had gone, borne away by the seditious
captains of the Commune and the armed burghers who had guarded
the entries. A great silence had fallen upon the crypt. Fulviac and
the girl were left by the altar of black marble, their one lamp burning
solitary in the gulf of gloom.
Fulviac had the air of a man whose favourite hawk had flown
with fettle, and brought her quarry tumbling out of the clouds. He
was warm with the zest of it, and his tawny eyes sparkled.
"May the Virgin smile on us!" he said. "Gilderoy will serve our
ends."
The girl's eyes searched him gravely.
"You make holy war," she charged him.
"Ha, my sister, it is well to profess a strong conviction in the
justice of one's cause. Tell men they are heroes, patriots, martyrs,
and you will make good fighting stuff. Applaud fanaticism, make
great parade of righteousness, hail the Deity as patron, assemble all
the saints under your banner. Ha, trust me, that is a way to topple a
kingdom. Come, we must stir."
By many labyrinthine passages, strange galleries of death, they
passed together from the dark deeps of the catacombs. At one point
the roof shone silvered as with dew, and the air stood damp as in a
marsh on a winter's eve. The river Tamar flowed above them in its
rocky bed, so Fulviac told the girl. Anon they came out by a narrow
stair that opened by a briar-grown throat into a thicket of old oaks in
the Gilderoy meadows. The stairhead was covered by a species of
stone trap that could be covered and concealed by sods. In the
thicket a man awaited them with the bridles of three horses over his
arm. Fulviac held Yeoland's stirrup, and they rode out, the three of
them, from under the trees.
A full moon swam in a purple black sky amid a shower of
shimmering stars. Gilderoy, with its climbing towers and turrets,
stood out white under the moon. The city walls gleamed like
alabaster in the magic glow. In the meadows the ringlets of the river
glimmered. Far and distant rose the nebulous midnight of the
woods.
 Fulviac had bared his head to an inconstant and torpid breeze.
They were riding for the west along a bridle track that curled grey
and dim through the sombre meadows. The calm, soundless vault of
the world rose now in contrast to the canopies of stone and the
passion-throes of the catacombs. Human moil and effort seemed
infinitely little under the eternal scrutiny of the stars. So thought the
man for the moment, as he rode with his chin sunk upon his breast,
watching keenly the girl at his side.
Yeoland was young. All the roses of youth were budding about
her soul; idealism, like the essence of crushed violets, hovered
heavy over the world. Her soul as yet was no frayed and listless lute,
thrummed into discords by the bony hand of care. She was built for
love, a temple of white marble, lit by lamps of rubeous glory. Colours
flashed through the red sanctuaries of the flesh. Yet pain and great
woe had smitten her. The grim destinies of earth seemed bent on
thrusting an innocent pilgrim into the turbulent contradictions of life.
The pageant in the catacombs that night had stirred her
strangely beyond belief. The fantastic faces, the zeal, the hot words
of gesturing enthusiasm, these were things new to her, therefore the
more vivid and convincing. New worlds, new passions, seemed to
burst into being under the stars. She was utterly silent as she rode,
looking forth into the night. Her hood had fallen back; her face
shone white and clear; her eyes gleamed in the moonlight. Fulviac,
like a chess-player who had evolved some subtle scheme, rode and
watched her with a smile deep in his eyes. For the moment he was
content to leave her to the magic of her own thoughts.
At certain rare seasons in life, virgin light floods down into the
heart, as from some oriel opened in heaven. The world stands under
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