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diff --git a/34390-h/34390-h.htm b/34390-h/34390-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..aabcbfc --- /dev/null +++ b/34390-h/34390-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10577 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en" xml:lang="en"> + <head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> +<title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Iron Trevet, by Eugene Sue. +</title> +<style type="text/css"> + p {margin-top:.75em;text-align:justify;margin-bottom:.75em;text-indent:2%;} + +.c {text-align:center;text-indent:0%;} + +.nind {text-indent:0%;} + +.r {text-align:right;margin-right:5%;} + + h1 {text-align:center;clear:both;} + + h2,h3 {font-family:courier new, serif;margin-top:15%;text-align:center;clear:both;} + + hr {width:90%;margin:2em auto 2em auto;clear:both;color:black;} + + hr.full {width:100%;margin:5% auto 5% auto;border:4px double gray;} + + table {margin-left:auto;margin-right:auto;border:none;text-align:left;} + + body{margin-left:10%;margin-right:10%;background:#fdfdfd;color:black;font-family:"Times New Roman", serif;font-size:medium;} + +a:link {background-color:#ffffff;color:blue;text-decoration:none;} + + link {background-color:#ffffff;color:blue;text-decoration:none;} + +a:visited {background-color:#ffffff;color:purple;text-decoration:none;} + +a:hover {background-color:#ffffff;color:#FF0000;text-decoration:underline;} + + img {border:none;} + +.blockquot {margin:3% auto 3% auto;font-size:small;} + +.figcenter {margin:auto;text-align:center;} + +.footnotes {border:dotted 3px gray;margin-top:15%;clear:both;} + +.footnote {width:95%;margin:auto 3% 1% auto;font-size:0.9em;position:relative;} + +.label {position:relative;left:-.5em;top:0;text-align:left;font-size:.8em;} + +.fnanchor {vertical-align:30%;font-size:.8em;} + +.box {border: solid 3px black;padding:2%;max-width:60%;margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto;margin-top:15%;max-height:800px;} + +.box2 {border: solid 3px black;padding:2%;} +</style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's The Iron Trevet or Jocelyn the Champion, by Eugène Sue + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Iron Trevet or Jocelyn the Champion + A Tale of the Jacquerie + +Author: Eugène Sue + +Translator: Daniel De Leon + +Release Date: November 21, 2010 [EBook #34390] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE IRON TREVET *** + + + + +Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images available at The Internet Archive) + + + + + + +</pre> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 369px;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" +id="coverpage" width="369" height="550" alt="image of book's cover" title="" /> +</div> + +<div class="box"> +<div class="box2"> +<h1>THE IRON ARROW TREVET<br /> +<small><small>: : : : OR : : : :</small></small><br /> +<small><small>JOCELYN THE CHAMPION</small></small></h1> + +<table summary="name" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" +style="border-bottom:6px double black; +letter-spacing:8px;font-size:125%;"> +<tr><td> + + + </td></tr> +</table> + +<p><br /> +</p> + +<p class="c"><b>A Tale of the Jacquerie</b></p> + +<table summary="name" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" +style="border-top:4px double black; +border-bottom:6px double black;"> +<tr><td style="letter-spacing:3px;"><b> By EUGENE SUE </b></td></tr> +</table> + +<table summary="name" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" +style="border-bottom:6px double black; +letter-spacing:8px;font-size:125%;"> +<tr><td> + + + </td></tr> +</table> + +<p class="c"><small><span style="letter-spacing:3px;"><b>TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL FRENCH BY</b></span></small></p> + +<p class="c"><b>DANIEL DE LEON</b></p> + +<p class="c"><small><span style="letter-spacing:3px;"><b>NEW YORK LABOR NEWS COMPANY, 1906</b></span></small></p> +</div> +</div> + +<p class="c"><small><small> +Copyright, 1905, by the<br /> +NEW YORK LABOR NEWS CO.</small></small><br /> +</p> + +<p><a name="page_iii" id="page_iii"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="TRANSLATORS_PREFACE" id="TRANSLATORS_PREFACE"></a>TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE.</h3> + +<p>Etienne Marcel, John Maillart, William Caillet, Adam the +Devil and Charles the Wicked, King of Navarre, are the five +leading personages in this story. Their figures and actions, the +virtues and foibles of the ones, the vices of the others, the errors +of all, are drawn with strict historic accuracy, all the five +being historic characters. Seeing the historic importance of +the epoch in which they figured, and the types that these five +men represent, the story of "The Iron Trevet; or, Jocelyn, the +Champion" is more than an historic narrative, it is more than +a treatise on the philosophy of history, it is a treatise on human +nature, it is a compendium of lessons inestimable to whomsoever +his or her good or evil genius throws into the clash of human +currents, and to those who, though not themselves participants, +still may wish to understand that which they are spectators of +and which, some way or other, they are themselves affected by +and, some way or other, are bound to either support or resist.</p> + +<p>In a way, "The Iron Trevet; or, Jocelyn the Champion" is +the uniquest of the series of brilliant stories that the genius of +Eugene Sue has enriched the world with under the collective title +of "The Mysteries of the People"—we can recall no other instance +in which so much profound and practical instruction is so +skillfully clad in the pleasing drapery of fiction, and one within +so small a compass.</p> + +<p>To America whose youthful years deprive her of historic perspective, +this little story, or rather work, can not but be of service. +To that vast English-speaking world at large, now throbbing +with the pulse of awakening aspirations, this translation discloses +another treasure trove, long and deliberately held closed to it +in the wrappage of the foreign tongue in which the original +appeared.</p> + +<p class="r">DANIEL DE LEON.</p> + +<p class="nind">New York, April 13, 1904.</p> + +<p><a name="page_005" id="page_005"></a></p> + +<p><a name="page_006" id="page_006"></a></p> + +<h3>INDEX</h3> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="" +style="font-weight:bold;font-family:courier new, serif;"> +<tr><td align="left" colspan="3"><a href="#TRANSLATORS_PREFACE">Translator's Preface</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#page_iii">iii</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left" colspan="3"><a href="#PART_I">Part I.</a> The Seigniory of Nointel.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_I-a">Chapter 1</a>.</td><td align="left">The Tavern of Alison the Huffy</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_010">10</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_II-a">Chapter 2</a>.</td><td align="left">The Amende Honorable</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_026">26</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_III-a">Chapter 3</a>.</td><td align="left">The Tournament</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_034">34</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV-a">Chapter 4</a>.</td><td align="left">The Judicial Combat</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_039">39</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_V-a">Chapter 5</a>.</td><td align="left">Sheet Lightenings</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_050">50</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI-a">Chapter 6</a>.</td><td align="left">Prophecies and Premonitions</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_058">58</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII-a">Chapter 7</a>.</td><td align="left">Wrecked Hearts</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_065">65</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left" colspan="3"><a href="#PART_II">Part II.</a> The Regency of Normandy.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_I-b">Chapter 1</a>.</td><td align="left">The States General</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_074">74</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_II-b">Chapter 2</a>.</td><td align="left">Etienne Marcel</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_077">77</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_III-b">Chapter 3</a>.</td><td align="left">The Man of the Furred Cap</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_083">83</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV-b">Chapter 4</a>.</td><td align="left">The Serpent Under the Grass</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_097">97</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_V-b">Chapter 5</a>.</td><td align="left">Charles the Wicked</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_105">105</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI-b">Chapter 6</a>.</td><td align="left">The Meeting at the Cordeliers</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_118">118</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII-b">Chapter 7</a>.</td><td align="left">Popular Justice</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_126">126</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII-b">Chapter 8</a>.</td><td align="left">"The Hour Has Sounded!"</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_143">143</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left" colspan="3"><a href="#PART_III">Part III.</a> The Jacquerie.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_I-c">Chapter 1</a>.</td><td align="left">Captain Griffith and His Chaplain</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_154">154</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_II-c">Chapter 2</a>.</td><td align="left">The Fox's Burrow</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_161">161</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_III-c">Chapter 3</a>.</td><td align="left">The Castle of Chivry</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_175">175</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV-c">Chapter 4</a>.</td><td align="left">Jacquerie! Jacquerie!</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_180">180</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_V-c">Chapter 5</a>.</td><td align="left">The Orville Bridge</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_191">191</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI-c">Chapter 6</a>.</td><td align="left">"On to Clermont!"</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_207">207</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII-c">Chapter 7</a>.</td><td align="left">Clermont</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_211">211</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left" colspan="3"><a href="#PART_IV">Part IV.</a> John Maillart.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_I-d">Chapter 1</a>.</td><td align="left">The Wages of Envy</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_228">228</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_II-d">Chapter 2</a>.</td><td align="left">Last Day at Home</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_239">239</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_III-d">Chapter 3</a>.</td><td align="left">Darkening Shadows</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_247">247</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV-d">Chapter 4</a>.</td><td align="left">Plotters Uncovered</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_258">258</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_V-d">Chapter 5</a>.</td><td align="left">The Gate of St. Antoine</td><td align="right"><a href="#page_267">267</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left" colspan="3"><a href="#EPILOGUE">Epilogue</a></td><td align="right"><a href="#page_270">270</a></td></tr> +</table> + +<p><a name="page_007" id="page_007"></a></p> + +<p><a name="page_008" id="page_008"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="PART_I" id="PART_I"></a>PART I.<br /><br /> +THE SEIGNIORY OF NOINTEL.</h2> + +<p><a name="page_009" id="page_009"></a></p> + +<p><a name="page_010" id="page_010"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_I-a" id="CHAPTER_I-a"></a>CHAPTER I.<br /><br /> +THE TAVERN OF ALISON THE HUFFY.</h3> + +<p>On a Sunday, towards the end of the month of October of +1356, a great stir was noticeable since early morning in the little +town of Nointel, situated a few leagues from the city of Beauvais, +in the department of Beauvoisis. The tavern of Alison the +Huffy—so nicknamed from her hot temper, although she was a +good woman—was rapidly filling with artisans, villeins and serfs +who came to wait for the hour of mass at the tavern, where, due +to the prevailing poverty, little was drunk and much talked. +Alison never complained. As talkative as huffy, dame Alison +preferred to see her tavern full with chatterers than empty of +tipplers. Still fresh and buxom, though on the shady side of thirty, +she wore a short skirt and low bodice—probably because her bust +was well rounded and her limbs well shaped. Black of hair, +bright of eyes, white of teeth, and quick of hands, more than +once since her widowhood, had Alison broken a bumper over the +head of some customer, whom liquor had rendered too expressive +in his admiration for her charms. Accordingly, like a prudent +housekeeper, she had taken the precaution of replacing her earthenware +bumpers with pewter ones. That morning the dame seemed +to be in a particular huffy mood, judging by her rumpling brows, +her brusque motions, and her sharp and cross words.</p> + +<p>Presently, the door of the tavern was darkened and in stepped +a man of vigorous age, with an angular and sun-burnt face, +whose only striking features were two little, piercing, crafty and +savage eyes half hidden under his eyebrows thick and grizzly +like his hair, that escaped in disorder from under his old woolen +cap. He had traveled a long distance; his wooden shoes, shabby +cloth leggings and patched smock-frock were covered with dust.<a name="page_011" id="page_011"></a> +He was noticeably tired; it was with difficulty that he moved his +limbs with the support of a knotted stick. Hardly inside the +tavern, the serf, whose name was William Caillet, let himself +down heavily upon a bench, immediately placing his elbows +on his knees and his head upon his hands. Alison the Huffy, already +out of humor, as stated, called to him sharply:</p> + +<p>"What do you want here? I do not know you. If you want to +drink, pay; if not, off with you!"</p> + +<p>"In order to drink, money is needed; I have none," answered +William Caillet; "allow me to rest on this bench, good woman."</p> + +<p>"My tavern is no lazar-house," replied Alison; "be gone, you +vagabond!"</p> + +<p>"Come now, hostess, we have never seen you in such a bad +humor," put in one of the customers; "let the poor man rest; +we invite him to a bumper."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," answered the serf with a somber gesture and +shaking his head; "I'm not thirsty."</p> + +<p>"If you do not drink you have no business here," the buxom +tavern-keeper was saying when a voice, hailing from without, +called: "Where is the hostess ... where is she ... a thousand +bundles of demons! Is there no one here to take my horse? +Our throats are dry and our tongues hanging out. Ho, there, +hostess, attend to us!"</p> + +<p>The arrival of a rider, always a good omen for a hostlery, drew +Alison away from her anger. She called her maid servant while +herself ran to the door to answer the impatient traveler, who, his +horse's bridle in hand, continued finding fault, although good-naturedly. +The new arrival was about twenty-four years of age; +the visor of his somewhat rusty casque, wholly raised, exposed to +view a pleasant face, the left cheek of which was furrowed with a +deep scar. Thanks to his Herculean build, his heavy cuirass of +tarnished iron, but still usable, seemed not to press him any +more than a coat of cloth. His coat of mail, newly patched in +several places, fell half over his thigh-armor, made, like his<a name="page_012" id="page_012"></a> +greaves, of iron, the latter of which were hidden within the large +traveling boots. From his shoulder-strap hung a long sword, +from his belt a sharp dagger of the class called "mercy". His +mace, which consisted of a thick cudgel an arm long, terminating +in three little iron chains riveted to a ball seven or eight pounds +heavy, hung from the pommel of the rider's saddle, together with +his steel-studded and ribbed buckler. Three reserve wooden lance +shafts, tied together, and the points of which rested in a sort of +leather bonnet, adjusted to the strap of one of his stirrups, were +held up straight along the saddle, behind which a sheep-skin +satchel was attached. The horse was large and vigorous. Its +head, neck, chest and part of its crupper were protected by an +iron caparison—a heavy armor that the robust animal carried +as easily as its master wore his.</p> + +<p>Responding to the redoubled calls of the traveler, Alison the +Huffy ran out with her maid and said in bitter-sweet voice: +"Here I am, Sir. Hein! If ever you are canonized, it will not be, +I very much fear, under the invocation of St. Patience!"</p> + +<p>"By the bowels of the Pope, my fair hostess, your pretty black +eyes and pink cheeks could never be seen too soon. As sure as +your garter could serve you for a belt, the prettiest girl of Paris, +where I come from, could not be compared to you. By Venus +and Cupid, you are the pearl of hostesses."</p> + +<p>"You come from Paris, Sir Knight!" said Alison with joyful +surprise, being at once flattered by the compliments of the traveler, +and proud of having a guest from Paris, the great city. "You +really come from Paris?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, truly. But tell me, am I rightly informed? Is there to +be a passage of arms to-day, here in the valley of Nointel?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Sir; you arrive in time. The tourney is to begin soon; +right after mass."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, my pretty hostess, while I take my horse to the +stable to have him well fed, you will prepare a good repast for +myself, and, to the end that it may taste all the better, you will<a name="page_013" id="page_013"></a> +share it with me while we chat together. There is much information +that I need from you;" and raising his coat of mail to +enable him to reach his leather purse, the rider took from it a +piece of silver. Giving it to Alison, he said gaily: "Here is payment +in advance for my score. I am none of your strollers, so +frequent in these days, who pay their host with sword thrusts +and by plundering his house;" but noticing that Alison examined +the piece before putting it in her pocket, he added laughing: +"Accept that coin as I did, with eyes shut. The devil take it, only +King John and his minter know what the piece is worth, and +whether it contains more lead than it does silver!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Sir Knight, is it not terrible to think that our master, +the King, is an inveterate false-coiner? What times these are! +We are borne down with taxes, and we never know the value of +what we have!"</p> + +<p>"True. But I wager, my pretty hostess, that your lover is in no +such annoying ignorance.... Come, you will have overcome +your modest blushes by the time your maid has shown me the way +to the stable, after which you will make my breakfast ready. But +you must share it with me; that's understood."</p> + +<p>"As you please, Sir Knight," answered Alison, more and more +charmed with the jolly temper of the stranger. Accordingly, +she hastened to busy herself with the preparations for the meal, +and in a short time spread upon one of the tables of the tavern +a toothsome dish of bacon in green fennel, flanked with fried +eggs, cheese and a mug of foaming beer.</p> + +<p>The serf, William Caillet, now forgotten by the hostess, his +forehead resting on both his hands, seemed lost to what went on +around him, and kept his seat on a bench not far from the table +at which presently Alison and the traveler took theirs. Back +from the stable, the latter relieved himself of his casque, dagger +and sword, laying them down near to himself, and proceeded to +do honor to the repast.<a name="page_014" id="page_014"></a></p> + +<p>"Sir Knight," said Alison, "you come from Paris? What fine +stories you will have to tell!"</p> + +<p>"Mercy, pretty hostess, do not call me 'Sir Knight.' I belong +to the working class, not the nobility. My name is Jocelyn. +My father is a book-seller, and I am a <i>champion</i><a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> as my battle-harness +attests to you;—and here I am at your service."</p> + +<p>"Can it be!" exclaimed Alison, joining her hands in glad astonishment, +"you are a fighting champion?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and I have not yet lost a single case, as you may judge +from my right hand not yet being cut off—a penalty reserved +for all champions who are vanquished in a judicial duel. Although +often wounded, I have at least always rendered a Roland for +my adversary's Oliver. I learned in Paris that there was to be +a tourney here and thinking that, as usual, it would be followed +or preceded by some judicial combat, where I might represent the +appellant or the appellee, I came to the place on a venture. Now, +then, as a tavern-keeper, you are surely informed thereon."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Sir champion! It is heaven that sends you. There will +surely be need of you."</p> + +<p>"Heaven, I am of the opinion, mixes but little in my concerns. +Let us leave Gog and Magog to settle their affairs among themselves."</p> + +<p>"You should know that, unfortunately, I have a process. I +admit that I am in great trouble."</p> + +<p>"You, my pretty hostess?"</p> + +<p>"It is now three months ago that I lent twelve florins to +Simon the Hirsute. When I asked him for the money, the mean +thief denied the debt. We went before the seneschal. I maintained +what I said; Simon maintained his side. There were no<a name="page_015" id="page_015"></a> +witnesses either for or against us, and as the amount involved +was above five sous, the seneschal ordered a judicial battle. But +who would take my part?"</p> + +<p>"And you have found nobody to be your champion against +Simon the Hirsute?"</p> + +<p>"Alas, no! By reason of his strength and his wickedness the +fellow is feared all over this country. No one would venture to +fight with him."</p> + +<p>"Well, my pretty hostess, you can count with me. I shall fight +him as well for the sake of your pretty eyes as for the sake of +your cause."</p> + +<p>"Oh, my cause is good, Sir champion. It is as true that I lent +Simon the Hirsute those twelve florins as.... +I'll tell you how it was—"</p> + +<p>"You need say no more. A pretty mouth like yours would not +fib. Moreover, I'm in the habit of placing confidence in what my +clients tell me. What is wanted is, not solid reasons, but rude +blows with the sword, the lance or the mace. Thus, so long as +this right fist is not cut off, it will offer arguments more conclusive +than the subtlest ones of the most famous jurists."</p> + +<p>"I must not conceal from you the fact that that thief of a +Simon has been an archer. He is a dangerous man. Everybody +is afraid of him."</p> + +<p>"Pretty hostess, there is another custom I have when I am to +plead a case. I never inquire how my adversary fights. In that +way I never form in advance a plan of attack, frequently frustrated +in practice. I have a quick and correct eye. Once on +the arena, I size up my man, fall to, and decide on the spot +whether to thrust or to cut. I have ever congratulated myself +on this manner of pleading. You may rely upon me. The tourney +does not open till noon; my arms are in good condition and +my horse is eating his provender. Let's drink a glass: Long live +joy, my pretty hostess! and good luck to the good cause!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, helpful champion! If you gain my process I shall give<a name="page_016" id="page_016"></a> +you three florins. It would not be paying too much for the +pleasure of seeing the scamp of a Simon the Hirsute brought to +grief!"</p> + +<p>"Agreed! If I gain your process you will give me three florins +and a smacking kiss for good measure, if you like!... +Agreed?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Sir, such things are not said."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, I shall give you the smacking kiss, seeing the +other plan embarrasses you. But by all the devils, your forehead +remains troubled. Why so? You needed a champion, and +heaven—as you said—sends you one who is impatient to sail +into the thief, and yet your pretty forehead keeps its wrinkles!"</p> + +<p>"I should be satisfied, and yet my heart is heavy. I want to +tell you all about it."</p> + +<p>"Have you, perchance, some other process, or some unfaithful +lover? You may speak freely to me."</p> + +<p>Alison remained for a moment sad and silent, whereupon she +resumed with painful voice.</p> + +<p>"Sir champion, you come from Paris; you must be very +learned. Perhaps you may render a service to a poor lad who +is much to be pitied, and who also must himself do battle to-day +in a judicial duel, but under very sad circumstances."</p> + +<p>"Explain yourself. What is the matter?"</p> + +<p>"In this country of Nointel, when a female serf or bourgeois +marries, the seigneur, if it please him, is entitled to ... the +first night of his female vassal. They call it the 'right of first +fruits.' ... At least do not laugh!"</p> + +<p>"Laugh! Not by the devil!" answered Jocelyn, whose face +suddenly overspread with somberness. "Oh, you recall to my +mind a melancholy affair. A short while ago I had to plead a +case on the arena near Amiens. Crossing a village, I saw a +gathering of serfs. Upon inquiry I learned that one of the +peasants of the group, a butcher attached to the fief of the +bishopric, had married that very morning a handsome girl of<a name="page_017" id="page_017"></a> +the parish. The bishop, in the exercise of his right, sent for +the bride to take her to his bed. The serf answered the episcopal +bailiff, charged with the mission: 'My wife is in my hut, I +shall bring her out to you'; and coming back a few instants later +said to him: 'My wife is a little bashful, she does not like to +come out, go in and bring her out yourself.' The bailiff went +into the hut, and what does he find? The unhappy girl lying +in a pool of blood; she was dead."</p> + +<p>"Good God! What a shocking story!"</p> + +<p>"In order to ransom her from dishonor, her husband had +killed her with a blow of his axe."</p> + +<p>At these words, William Caillet, who until then had remained +indifferent to the conversation between Alison and Jocelyn, +shook convulsively, raised his savage face and listened, while, +tears streaming from her eyes, Alison cried: "Oh, poor woman! +To be thus killed! What a terrible resolution must not have +seized her husband to resort to such a frightful extreme!"</p> + +<p>"Resolute men are rare."</p> + +<p>"Alas, Sir champion. Those who, degraded by serfdom, remain +indifferent to such ignominy are perhaps less to be pitied +than those who resent it."</p> + +<p>"But most of them do resent it," cried Jocelyn. "In vain do +the seigneurs seek to reduce these ill-starred beings to the state +of brutes. Are not even among wild beasts the males seen to +defend their females unto death? Does not man, however +coarse, however brutified, however craven he may be, fire up +with jealousy the moment he loves? Is not love the only possession +left to the serfs, the only solace in their misery? Blood +and death! I grow savage at the mere thought of the rage and +despair of a serf at the sight of the humble companion of his +cheerless days sullied forever by a seigneur! By the navel of +Satan, by the horns of Moses, the thought of it exasperates me!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Sir," said Alison with tears in her eyes, "your words<a name="page_018" id="page_018"></a> +tell the story of that poor Mazurec, the young man I was about +to tell you of."</p> + +<p>William Caillet again shook convulsively at the sound of the +name of Mazurec, and leaped up, but controlling himself by +dint of a violent effort, he resumed his seat, and lent increased +attention to what was said by Alison and Jocelyn, who himself +seemed greatly struck by the name of Mazurec, that his hostess +had just pronounced.</p> + +<p>"The serf's name is Mazurec?" he inquired, visibly affected.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Sir. Why does the name surprise you?"</p> + +<p>"It is one of my own father's given names. Do you know the +age of the young fellow?"</p> + +<p>"He can be no more than twenty years; his mother, who has +long been dead, was not of this neighborhood."</p> + +<p>"Whence came she?"</p> + +<p>"I could not tell you that. She arrived here shortly before +the birth of Mazurec. She begged her bread. Our neighbor +the miller of the Gallion mill, took pity upon her. His own wife +had died in childbed about two months before. The name of +Mazurec's mother was Gervaise."</p> + +<p>"Gervaise?" repeated Jocelyn, seeming to interrogate his +memory, "was her name Gervaise?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Sir champion. She was so pleasing and sweet to the +eyes of the miller that he said to himself: 'She must soon be +brought to bed; if she is willing, she shall be nurse to both my +child and her own.' And so it was. Gervaise brought up the +two boys. She was so industrious and of so good a character +that the miller kept her as a servant. Then a misfortune happened. +The Count of Beaumont declared war to the Sire of +Nointel. That is now five years ago. The miller was compelled +to follow his seigneur to war. During that time the men of +Beaumont raided the place, burning and sacking. They set fire +to the mill where Gervaise was left with the two children. She +perished in the flames, together with the miller's child. Mazurec<a name="page_019" id="page_019"></a> +alone escaped miraculously. Out of pity my husband and I +took him in."</p> + +<p>"You are a worthy woman, my hostess. I shall have to cut +the throat of Simon the Hirsute."</p> + +<p>"Do not praise me too much, Sir champion. The hardest +heart would have taken an interest in Mazurec. He was the +sweetest and best child in the world. His goodness and mildness +won for him the name of Mazurec the Lambkin."</p> + +<p>"And did he make good the promise of his name?"</p> + +<p>"He was a real lamb. All night long he cried for his mother +and his foster brother. By day he helped us, according to his +strength, in whatever work we had in hand. When the war +closed our neighbor the miller did not come back. He had been +killed. The Sire of Nointel had the burnt-down mill rebuilt. +God only knows what taxes he imposed upon us, his vassals, to +indemnify himself for the expenses of his campaign against +the seigneur of Beaumont. Mazurec took service under the +new miller. Every Sunday, on his way to church, Mazurec stopped +here to thank us for our kindness towards him. There +is no more grateful heart than his. And now I'll tell you how +his misfortune came about. Occasionally he was sent by the +miller with bags of flour to the village of Cramoisy, about three +leagues from here, where the Sire of Nointel has established a +fortified post. In that village—poor Mazurec has made me his +confidante—he often saw, seated at the door of her hut, a beautiful +young girl, spinning at her wheel; other times he met her +pasturing her cow along the green borders of the road. This +young girl was known as Aveline-who-never-lied. She had a +heart of gold."</p> + +<p>"And these two folks loved each other?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed! They loved each other passionately. And they +were well matched."</p> + +<p>William Caillet listened to Alison's narrative with redoubled +attention. Unable, to keep back a tear that rolled down his<a name="page_020" id="page_020"></a> +emaciated cheeks, he wiped it off with the back of his hand. The +tavern-keeper proceeded:</p> + +<p>"Mazurec was a serf of the same seigniory with Aveline and +her father. The latter consented to the marriage. The bailiff +of the Sire of Nointel in the absence of his master, also gave +his consent. Everything was moving smoothly along, and often +did Mazurec say to me: 'Dame Alison, what a pity that my +mother cannot witness our happiness!'"</p> + +<p>"But how came these happy hopes to be destroyed, my pretty +hostess?"</p> + +<p>"You know, Sir, that, if the seigneur is willing, the vassals +can ransom themselves of the infamous right that we spoke of +a few minutes ago. So did my deceased husband, without which +I would have remained single all my life. Aveline's father had +a cow for only earthly possession. He sold that, preferring to +forfeit the animal that furnished him with food, rather than +to see his adored daughter dishonored by the Sire of Nointel. +The day of the bethrothal Mazurec went to the castle to deliver +to the bailiff the price of the bride's redemption. Unfortunately, +the bailiff happened to be away. The bridegroom +returned to Aveline, and her father decided that they should +be married the next morning, and that immediately after the +mass Mazurec should return to the castle to ransom his wife. +The marriage took place, and, according to custom, the bride +remained locked up at the vicarage until the husband could show +his letter of redemption."</p> + +<p>"Yes," observed Jocelyn. "And it therefore often happens +that, to escape the disgrace, brides yield themselves to their intended +husbands before marriage. No more than just, under the +circumstances."</p> + +<p>"But too true; and often also the men thereupon leave the +poor girl and do not marry her. But neither Mazurec nor +Aveline entertained such evil thoughts. In possession of the +needed sum for the ransom, he only asked to acquit himself +honestly. After the mass, Mazurec returned to the castle, carrying<a name="page_021" id="page_021"></a> +the money in a purse suspended from his belt. On the +road he met a knight who inquired for the way to Nointel; +and, would you believe it, Sir? while Mazurec was giving him +the directions, the scamp of a knight stooped down in the saddle +as if to adjust the strap of his stirrup, snatched the purse from +poor Mazurec, and, spurring his horse, galloped off."</p> + +<p>"There are hundreds of such thefts committed. The knights +look upon them as mere feats of knighthood. But they are infamous +acts!"</p> + +<p>"Mazurec, left behind distracted, vainly ran after the thief. +He lost sight of him. An hour later he arrived breathless at +the castle, threw himself at the feet of the bailiff, told him of his +mishap, and with tears in his eyes demanded justice against +the thief. The Sire of Nointel, who had arrived at his manor +that very morning from Paris, accompanied by several friends, +happened to cross the corridor at the very time that Mazurec +was imploring the bailiff's help. The Sire of Nointel, informed +of the occurrence, asked, laughing, whether the bride was pretty. +'There is none prettier in your domain, Sire', answered the bailiff. +Suddenly, his eyes falling upon one of the knights of the Sire's +suite, Mazurec cried: 'It is he who robbed me of my purse, +only an hour ago!' 'Miserable serf', thundered the seigneur, +'dare you charge one of my guests with robbery? You lie!'"</p> + +<p>"Without a doubt the thievish knight denied the robbery."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Sir, and Mazurec, on his side, still insisted. Thereupon, +after a whispered conversation with the bailiff and the +knight who was accused of the robbery, the Sire of Nointel gave +this decision: 'One of my equerries, escorted by several men-at-arms, +shall forthwith proceed to the vicarage and conduct +the bride here. According to my right, I shall spend the night +with her. To-morrow morning she may be returned to that +vassal. As to the charge of robbery, that he has the effrontery +to prefer against a noble knight, the knight demands the trial +of arms, and if, although defeated, this vile varlet survives the<a name="page_022" id="page_022"></a> +battle, he shall be tied up in a bag and cast into the river +as the defamer of a knight. Let justice take its course.'"</p> + +<p>"Oh!" cried Jocelyn, "the unhappy lad is lost. The knight +is the appellant, as such he has the right to fight on horseback +and in full armor, against the serf in a smock-frock and with a +stick for only weapon."</p> + +<p>"Alas, Sir! As you see I had good reasons for being heavy at +heart. Poor Mazurec thought less on the battle than on his +bride. He threw himself sobbing at the feet of his seigneur, +and beseeched him not to dishonor Aveline. And do you know +what answer the Sire of Nointel made to him? 'Jacques +Bonhomme'<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a>—that's +the title of derision that the nobles give their +serfs—'Jacques Bonhomme, my friend, I have two reasons for +spending this night with your wife: first, because, as they say, +she is quite comely; and second, because that will be the punishment +for your insolence to charge one of my guests with larceny.' +At these words Mazurec the Lambkin became Mazurec the Wolf. +He threw himself furiously upon his seigneur, meaning to +strangle him. But the knights who stood by felled the poor +serf to the floor, pinioned him and thrust him into a dungeon. +Can anything exceed such cruelty? Add to that that the Sire of +Nointel is himself betrothed to be married; his bride, the noble +damosel Gloriande of Chivry, is to be the queen of the tourney +about to take place."</p> + +<p>"Shame!" cried Jocelyn, his cheeks aflame with indignation, +and furiously striking the table with his Herculean fist. "An end +must be put to these horrors! They cry for vengeance! They +cry for blood!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! There will be blood!" whispered a hollow voice in the +ear of Jocelyn. "Floods of blood! The torch and the axe will +do their office"; and feeling a strange hand pressing on his<a name="page_023" id="page_023"></a> +shoulder, the champion turned quickly around. Before him +stood William Caillet.</p> + +<p>"What do you want?" asked the young man, struck by the +sinister and desperate looks of the peasant. "What do you want +of me? Who are you?"</p> + +<p>"I am the father of Mazurec's wife."</p> + +<p>"You, poor man?" cried the hostess with pity. "Oh! I regret +to have been rude to you. Pardon me, poor father. Alas, +what have you come here for?"</p> + +<p>"For my daughter," answered William; and he added with a +frightful smile: "She will be now returned to me; the night +is over; the infamous dues are paid."</p> + +<p>"My God! My God!" rejoined Alison, unable to repress her +tears. "And when we think that poor Mazurec is a prisoner +at the castle, and that this morning, before mass, he is to make +the 'amende honorable' on his knees before the Sire of Nointel—"</p> + +<p>"He! Is he to be subjected to that further indignity?" cried +Jocelyn, interrupting his hostess. "And what is he to apologize +for?"</p> + +<p>"Alas, Sir champion!" answered Alison, "I have not yet +told you the end of the adventure. While Mazurec was being +taken to prison, the bailiff went for Aveline at the vicarage and +brought her to the castle. She resisted her seigneur with all +her strength. He then laughed in her face and said: 'Ho! +you resist me! Very well. I shall now have the pleasure of +exercising my right by judicial decree. It will be a good lesson +to Jacques Bonhomme.' He thereupon had the bride taken to a +cell, and lodged a complaint against her in the court of the +seneschal at Beauvais. Seeing that the law recognizes the right +of a seigneur over his female vassals, the court gave its decree +accordingly. It is in the name of justice that the wretched +Aveline was violated last night by our seigneur; it is in the +name of justice that Mazurec is sentenced to beg the pardon +of his seigneur for having intended to oppose him in the exercise<a name="page_024" id="page_024"></a> +of his seigniorial right; it is in the name of justice that, +after this public expiation, Mazurec is to fight the thief of a +knight."</p> + +<p>"Aye," put in William Caillet, clenching his fists; "Mazurec +is to fight on foot and armed with a stick against his robber, +covered with iron ... Mazurec will be vanquished and killed, +or, if he survive, will be drowned. I shall try to fish out +his body and bury him in some hole ... Then I shall +take away my daughter ... She is to be returned to me +this morning, and who knows but in nine months I may be the +grandfather of a noble brat!" After a short pause the peasant +resumed with a sinister and chilling smile: "Oh! If that child +should live ... if it should live...." But he did +not finish his sentence. For a moment he remained silent; +then, laying his horny right hand upon the shoulder of Jocelyn, +he approached the young man's ear and added in a low voice: +"Shortly ago you said an end must be put to these horrors, they +call for blood!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and I say so again. These horrors cry for vengeance! +They cry for the death and destruction of our oppressors!"</p> + +<p>"He who says that aloud is a man who will act," replied the +serf fastening his small, savage and piercing eyes upon the champion. +"If the time for action arrives, remember William Caillet +... of the village of Cramoisy, near Clermont."</p> + +<p>"I shall not forget your name," Jocelyn returned in a low +voice to Caillet, and clasped his hand. "The hour of justice +and vengeance may sound sooner than you think, especially if +there are many serfs like you!"</p> + +<p>"There are," rejoined the peasant in the same low voice. +"Jacques Bonhomme is on his feet. We are preparing a general +uprising."</p> + +<p>"It was to assure myself regarding that that I rode into this +region," whispered Jocelyn in the ear of Caillet, without being +heard by Alison. "Silence and courage! The day of reprisal +is at hand."<a name="page_025" id="page_025"></a></p> + +<p>More and more agreeably surprised at meeting in Jocelyn an +unexpected ally, the peasant did not remove his penetrating eyes +from the young man. Habituated by servitude to mistrust, he +feared to be deceived by the promises of an unknown person. +Suddenly the chimes of the church of Nointel fell upon their +ears. Alison shivered. "Oh!" said she, "I shall not have the +courage to witness the ceremony!"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" asked Jocelyn, while the men who had +gathered in the tavern trooped out precipitately, saying: "Let +us hasten to the parvise of the church.... One should see +everything there is to be seen...."</p> + +<p>"They are going to witness the 'amende honorable' of poor +Mazurec," answered Alison.</p> + +<p>"I shall have more courage than you, my good hostess," said +Jocelyn taking up his sword and casque, and looking for William +Caillet, who, however, had disappeared. "I shall witness that +sad ceremony because, for more reasons than one, the fate of +Mazurec interests me. The tourney will not begin until after +mass; I shall have time to return for my horse so as to have +myself forthwith entered by the judge-at-arms as your defender +against Simon the Hirsute."</p> + +<p>"My God, Sir! Is there, then, no way to prevent the judicial +duel of poor Mazurec?... It means death to him!"</p> + +<p>"If he declines the battle he will be drowned; such is the +law of our feudal lords. But I hope I may be able to give +Mazurec some good advice. I shall try and speak to him. +Wait for me here, my pretty hostess, and do not lose hope."</p> + +<p>Saying this, Jocelyn wended his steps towards the parvise of +the church.<a name="page_026" id="page_026"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_II-a" id="CHAPTER_II-a"></a>CHAPTER II.<br /><br /> +THE "AMENDE HONORABLE".</h3> + +<p>The church of Nointel rose at one end of a spacious square, +into which two tortuous streets ran out. The houses, most of +which were constructed of wood, sculptured with no little art, +were topped with slated roofs, pointed and deeply inclined. Some +of these domiciles were ornamented with balconies, where on this +morning numerous spectators stood crowded. Thanks to his +athletic physique, Jocelyn succeeded without much trouble to +reach the edge of the parvise, where, among a number of knights, +stood the Sire of Nointel, a tall young man of haughty and scoffing +mien, whose reddish blonde hair was curled like a woman's. +He wore, according to the fashion of the time, a richly embroidered +short velvet tunic, and silk hose of two different colors. +The left side of his clothing was red, the other yellow. His +shoes, made of tender cordwain, tapered upward like a gilded +ram's horn. From his half red, half yellow velvet bonnet, ornamented +with a chain of precious stones, waved a tuft of ostrich +feathers—altogether a head-gear of exorbitant value. The +friends of the Sire of Nointel were, like himself, dressed in parti-colored +garb. Behind this brilliant company, stood the pages +and equerries of the seigneur carrying his colors. One of them +held his banner, emblazoned with three eagle's talons on a red +background. At the sight of that device, the designation of the +house of Neroweg, the hereditary enemy of his own family, Jocelyn +shuddered, astonishment seized him, he became profoundly +pensive. The rasping voice of a royal notary drew Jocelyn from his +reverie. Stepping forward to the front of the parvise, the notary +three times called for silence, and then, amidst the profound +stillness of the crowd, he proceeded to read:<a name="page_027" id="page_027"></a></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Whereas the charter and statute on the right of first fruits vests +in the seigneur of the lands and seigniory of Nointel, Loury, Berteville, +Cramoisy, Saint-Leu and other places the privilege of demanding +the first wedded day of all the maids <i>who are not noble</i>, and who shall +marry in said seigniory, after which the said seigneur shall no longer +touch the said married woman, and shall leave her to her husband;</p> + +<p>"And whereas, on the eleventh day of this month, Aveline-who-never-lied, +a female serf of the parish of Cramoisy, was married to Mazurec +the Lambkin, a miller serf at the Gallion mill;</p> + +<p>"And whereas, our young, high, noble and puissant seigneur, Conrad +Neroweg, knight and seigneur of the said seigniory herein above mentioned, +having wished to exercise his right of first fruits on the said +Aveline-who-never-lied, and the said Mazurec the Lambkin, her husband, +having sought to oppose himself thereto by using unseemly words towards +the said seigneur, and the said married woman having been required +to submit to the said right and having obstinately refused, the +said seigneur, by reason of the disobedience of the said married couple +and their unseemly words, caused them both to be separately imprisoned +and filed a criminal bill with his worship the seneschal of Beauvoisis +notifying him of the above occurrences;</p> + +<p>"And whereas, an inquest was made in writing and by the summoning +of witnesses upon the ancient right and custom in order to ascertain and +establish that the said seigneur of Nointel has the said right to the +first fruits; and the information being gathered and inquest made, a sentence +was rendered by the court of the seneschal of +Beauvoisis, as follows, +word by word:"</p></div> + +<p>Clenching his fists with rage, Jocelyn observed to himself: "Can +law, can justice consecrate such infamy! To what human power +can these wretched vassals appeal in their despair? Oh, the martyrs +of so many centuries can not fail to demand heavy reprisals!"</p> + +<p>The royal notary proceeded to read:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"The case of the young, high, noble and puissant Conrad Neroweg, +seigneur of Nointel and other seigniories, reclaimer of the right +of first fruits upon all maids, not noble, who marry in the said seigniory, +the party of the one part, and Aveline-who-never-lied, recently married +to Mazurec the Lambkin, refuser of the said right, the party of the +other part; and the said seigneur of Nointel, also claimant in reparation +and chastisement for the unseemly words pronounced by the said Mazurec +the Lambkin. The court of the seneschal of Beauvoisis, in view of +the criminal charges of the said seigneur and the information and inquests +taken, rendering justice to the parties concerned, says and declares +that <i>the said seigneur is well grounded in law and in reason in claiming +the first fruits from all maids, not noble, married in his seigniory;</i> and +by reason of that which is declared herein above, the said court has<a name="page_028" id="page_028"></a> +sentenced and now condemns the said Aveline-who-never-lied and the +said Mazurec the Lambkin <i>to render obedience to the said seigneur in +what concerns his right of the first fruits</i>; and concerning the unseemly +words that the said Mazurec the Lambkin pronounced against his +seigneur, the <i>said court has sentenced and now sentences him to apologise +to said seigneur and, with one knee on the ground, his head bare, +and his hands crossed over his breast, to pray his mercy in the presence +of all who were assembled at his wedding</i>. And, furthermore, the +said court orders that the present sentence shall be announced by a royal +notary or beadle in front of the church of the said seigniory."</p></div> + +<p>The decree, which confirmed and consecrated through the organs +of law and justice the most execrable of all the feudal laws, +produced different emotions in the surrounding crowd. Some, +stupefied with terror, misery and ignorance, cowardly resigned to +a disgrace that their fathers had been subjected to and was reserved +for their own children, seemed amazed at the resistance +that Mazurec had offered; others, who, due to a sentiment, if not +of love, yet of dignity, prized themselves happy that, thanks +to their money, the ugliness of their wives, or the accidental absence +of the seigneur, they had been able to escape the ignominy, +imagined themselves in the place of the condemned man and were +somewhat moved with pity for him; finally, the larger number, +married or not, serfs, villeins or townsmen, felt violent indignation, +hardly repressed by fear. Hollow murmurs ran through the +crowd at the last words of the notary. But all these sentiments +soon made place for those of anguish and compassion when, led +by the seigneur's men-at-arms, the condemned man appeared at +the portico of the church. Mazurec was about twenty years of +age, and the benignity of his face and the mildness of his nature +had earned him the name of Lambkin. On that day, however, he +seemed transfigured by misfortune and despair. His physiognomy +was savage and pinched, his clothes in tatters, his face livid, +his eyes fixed and red with tears and sleeplessness, his hair tumbling—all +imparted to him a frightful appearance. Two men-at-arms +unbound the prisoner, and pressing heavily upon his shoulders +forced him to drop upon his knees before the Sire of Nointel, +who together with his friends, laughed outright at the abject submission<a name="page_029" id="page_029"></a> +of Jacques Bonhomme. Presently the royal notary said +in a loud voice:</p> + +<p>"The reparation and amende honorable of the condemned man +to his seigneur must have for witness those who assisted at the +marriage of Mazurec. Let them come forward."</p> + +<p>At these words, Jocelyn the Champion saw William Caillet and +another robust serf, called Adam the Devil, step from the front +ranks of the crowd. To judge by the perspiration that bathed +his bony and tired face, the latter had just run a long distance. +Struck, at first, by the determined mien of Adam the Devil, Jocelyn +saw him, as well as his friend William Caillet, suddenly +metamorphose himself, so to speak. Affecting dullness and +humble timidity, dropping their eyes, doubling their backs, and +dragging their legs, both doffed their caps with a pitiful air as +they approached the royal notary. Caillet saluted him by twice +bowing to the earth with his arms across his breast and saying +in a trembling voice:</p> + +<p>"Pardon ... excuse ... Sir, if we, I and my companion, +come alone. The other witnesses of the wedding, Michael-kill-bread +and Big Peter, they have just been laid up with the fever +which they caught draining the swamp of our good seigneur. +Their teeth are clattering and they are shaking on the straw. +That's why they have not been able to come to town. I am William, +the father of the bride; this is my companion, Adam, who +witnessed the wedding."</p> + +<p>"These witnesses will suffice, I think, for the amende honorable, +will they not, seigneur?" said the notary to the Sire of Nointel. +The latter answered with an affirmative nod of the head, while +continuing to laugh aloud with his friends at the stupid and +timorous appearance of the two boors. All the while, on his knees +a few paces from his seigneur, Mazurec could not repress his tears +at the sight of Aveline's father; they rolled down slowly from his +inflamed eyes while the notary addressed him, saying: "Cross +your hands over your chest, and raise your eyes to heaven."<a name="page_030" id="page_030"></a></p> + +<p>The condemned man clenched his fists with rage and did not +follow the notary's orders.</p> + +<p>"Ho! pshaw!" cried William Caillet, addressing Mazurec in +a reproachful tone. "Don't you hear what this kind gentleman +says? He told you to cross your two hands, in this way ... look +... this way ... look at me ..."</p> + +<p>These last words, "look at me," were pronounced by the peasant +with such force that Mazurec raised his head, and understood +the meaning of the rapid glance that Caillet darted at him. Quickly +obeying the orders of the notary, the condemned man crossed +his arms on his breast.</p> + +<p>"Now," proceeded the scribe, "raise your head towards our +seigneur and repeat my words: 'Seigneur, I humbly repent having +had the audacity of using unseemly words towards you.'"</p> + +<p>The serf hesitated a moment, and then, overcoming his aversion +with a violent effort, he repeated in a hollow voice: "Seigneur, +I humbly repent having had the audacity of ... using ... unseemly +words ... towards you."</p> + +<p>"Further," pursued the notary, "I repent no less humbly, my +seigneur, of having wickedly wished to oppose your exercise of +your right of the first fruits upon one of your female vassals, +whom I took for my wife."</p> + +<p>Mazurec's resignation had reached the end of its tether. The +notary's last words, recalled to the unhappy man's mind the infamous +violence that the sweet maid whom he tenderly loved had +been made a victim of; he uttered a heart-rending cry, hid his +face in his hands and, convulsed with sobs, fell forward with his +face on the ground. At that spectacle, Jocelyn, whose indignation +threatened to overpower his prudence, was about to leap forward, +when he again heard the cry of William Caillet. Stooping down +to Mazurec as if to help him rise, he said two words in his ears so +as to be heard by none others, and continued aloud: "Ho! Pshaw!... +What ails you?... Why do you weep, my boy?... You +are told that our good seigneur will pardon your fault when you<a name="page_031" id="page_031"></a> +shall have repeated the words that you are ordered to.... Go +ahead.... Fling them out quickly, those words!"</p> + +<p>With his face bathed in tears and a smile of the damned, Mazurec +repeated these words after the notary had told them over +again: "I repent no less humbly, my seigneur, having wickedly +wished to oppose your exercise of your right of the first fruits +upon one of your female vassals, whom I took for my wife."</p> + +<p>"In repentance of which, my seigneur," pursued the notary, +"I humbly place myself at your mercy."</p> + +<p>"In repentance of which, my seigneur," stammered Mazurec +in a fainting voice, "I humbly place myself at your mercy."</p> + +<p>"Be it so," responded the Sire of Nointel with a haughty and +flippant air. "I grant you mercy. But you shall not be set free +until after having rendered satisfaction in a judicial duel, to +which you are summoned by my guest Gerard of Chaumontel, +a nobleman, whom you have outrageously defamed by accusing +him of larceny." Turning thereupon to one of his equerries: +"Let the peasant be guarded until the hour of the tourney, and +let the daughter be delivered to her father;" and stepping away +with his friends towards the door of the church, the young +seigneur said to them, laughing: "The lesson will do Jacques +Bonhomme good. Do you know, gentlemen, that that stupid pack +has of late been pricking up its ears and commenced to bridle up +against our rights? Although she was a comely lassie, I cared +little for that peasant's wife; but it was necessary to prove to the +vile rustic plebs that we own it body and soul; therefore, gentlemen, +let us never forget the proverb: 'Smite a villein and he'll +bless you; bless a villein and he'll smite you.'<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> Now, let us hear +the sacred mass; you will tell me whether Gloriande de Chivry, +my betrothed, whom you will see in my seigniorial pew, is not +a superb beauty."</p> + +<p>"Happy Conrad!" said Gerard of Chaumontel, the robber<a name="page_032" id="page_032"></a> +knight, "for bride, a handsome and radiant beauty, who, besides, +is the richest heiress of this region, seeing that after the death +of the Count of Chivry, his seigniory, in default of male heirs, +will fall from the lance to the distaff! Oh, Conrad! What beautiful +days of gold and silk will you not spin, thanks to the opulent +distaff of Gloriande of Chivry!"</p> + +<p>At the moment when thus chatting the noblemen entered the +church, Mazurec, who was still kept a prisoner, vanished under the +vault, and a man of the suite of the Sire of Nointel led out +Aveline. She was not quite eighteen. Despite the pallor of her +face and her deeply disturbed features, the girl preserved her +surpassing beauty. She moved with faltering steps, still clad in +her humble bride's apparel, of coarse white cloth. Her loose hair +fell upon and half covered her shoulders. Her lacerated arms +still bore the traces of tight hands, seeing that, in order to +triumph over the desperate resistance of his victim, the Sire of +Nointel had her bound fast. Crushed with shame at the thought +of being thus exposed to the gaze of the crowd, the moment she +stepped upon the parvise Aveline closed her eyes with an involuntary +movement, and did not at first see Mazurec who was being +taken back to prison. However, at the heart-rending cry that he +uttered, a shudder went over her frame, she trembled at every +limb, and her eyes met the gaze of her husband, a gaze of desolation, +in which passionate love and yet painful repulsion mixed +with ferocious jealousy, raised within his breast by the thought of +the outrage that his wife had been subject to, were all depicted at +once. The last of these feelings was betrayed by an involuntary +movement, made by the wretched young man, who, avoiding the +beseeching looks of Aveline, made a gesture of horror, covered +his face with his hands, and rushed under the vault like one demented, +followed by the men-at-arms who had him in charge.</p> + +<p>"He despises me," murmured the girl with fainting voice and +following her husband with haggard eyes. "He now no longer +loves me." Saying this, Aveline became livid, her knees yielded<a name="page_033" id="page_033"></a> +under her, she lost consciousness and would have rolled upon the +ground without Caillet, who, hastening to meet her, received her +in his arms, saying: "Your father remains to you." Then, helped +by Adam the Devil, he raised her up, and both, carrying the +swooning young bride in their arms, disappeared in the crowd.</p> + +<p>Jocelyn the Champion, a witness to this distressing scene, +rushed into the vault that opened upon the parvise, overtook the +keepers of Mazurec and said to one of them:</p> + +<p>"The serf they are taking away yonder has been summoned to +a judicial combat, is it so comrade?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered the man-at-arms, "he is to combat with the +knight Gerard of Chaumontel. Such is the sentence."</p> + +<p>"I must speak to that serf."</p> + +<p>"He is to communicate with nobody."</p> + +<p>"I am his judicial second in this combat, will you venture to +keep me from seeing and speaking with my client? By Satan! I +know the law. If you refuse—"</p> + +<p>"There is no need of bawling so loud. If you are Jacques +<a name="page_034" id="page_034"></a>Bonhomme's judicial second, come ... you have a sorry principal!"</p> + +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_III-a" id="CHAPTER_III-a"></a>CHAPTER III.<br /><br /> +THE TOURNAMENT.</h3> + +<p>The tourney, a ruinous spectacle offered to the nobility of the +neighborhood by the Sire of Nointel in celebration of his +betrothal, was held on a large meadow that stretched before +the gates of the town. The lists were according to the royal +ordinance of the year 1306, twenty-four paces long by forty wide, +and surrounded by a double row of fences four feet apart. In +this latter space the horn and clarion blowers were posted; likewise +the valets of the combatting knights were allowed in this +latter enclosure, ready to carry their masters from the mêlée, +or to run to their assistance when unhorsed, seeing that these +valiant jousters were covered with such heavy and thick armor +that they could move only with difficulty. Within these barriers +were also seen the heralds and sergeants-at-arms, charged with +preserving order at the tourney, and passing upon foul blows.</p> + +<p>The plebs of the town and neighboring fields, having hastened +to witness the spectacle at the close of the mass, crowded on +the outside. A more ragged, wan, miserable and worn-out +mass could hardly be imagined than that presented by the +crowd whose crushing labors supplied the prodigalities of their +seigneurs. The only satisfaction enjoyed by these cowed and +brutified people was that of being allowed to assist from a distance, +as on this day, at the sumptuous displays that they paid +for with their sweat and their marrow. The vassals, leaving +their mud-huts, where, exhausted with hunger and broken by +toil—at night they huddled pell-mell on the marshy ground +like animals in their pens—contemplated with an astonishment +that was sometimes mixed with savage hatred, the brilliant +assemblage covered with silks and velvets, embroideries and<a name="page_035" id="page_035"></a> +precious stones, seated on a spacious amphitheater, that, decked +with tapestries and rich hangings, rose along one of the sides +of the lists, and was reserved for the noble dames, the seigneurs +and the prelates of the vicinage. On either side of the amphitheater, +which was sheltered by tent-cloths from the rays of +the sun and from the rain, were two tents intended for the +knights who participated in the jousts. There they don their +heavy armors before the combat, and thither are they transported +when hurt or unhorsed. Numerous banners emblazoned +with the arms of the Sire of Nointel floated from the top of +poles that surround the lists. The queen of the tournament +is Gloriande, a noble young lady, the daughter of Raoul, count +and seigneur of Chivry, and betrothed since the previous month +to Conrad of Nointel. Magnificently bedizened in a scarlet +robe embroidered with gold, her black hair braided with pearls, +tall and of remarkable beauty but of a haughty and bold type, +with disdainful lips and imperious mien, Gloriande was throned +superbly under a species of canopy contrived in the center of +the platform, whence she could command a view of the arena. +Her father, proud of his daughter's beauty, stood behind her. +The noblemen and ladies of all ages, were seated on benches +flanking either side of the canopy where the young queen of the +tournament paraded her wealth and her charms. Suddenly the +clarions sound the opening of the passage of arms; and a herald, +clad in red and yellow, the colors of Nointel, advances to the +center of the arena and cries the formula:</p> + +<p>"Hear ye, hear ye, seigneurs and knights, and people of all +estates:—our sovereign seigneur and master, by the grace of +God, John, King of the French, forbids under penalty of life +and of forfeiture of goods, all speaking, crying out, coughing, +expectorating or uttering and giving of any signs during the +combat."</p> + +<p>The profoundest silence ensues. One of the bars is lowered, +and the Sire of Nointel, cased in a brilliant steel armor tipped +with gold ornaments, rides into the arena. Mounted on a richly<a name="page_036" id="page_036"></a> +caparisoned charger that he causes to prance and caracole with +ease, he reins in before the canopy of Gloriande, and the damosel, +taking from her own neck the necklace of gold strands, ties it to +the iron of the lance that her betrothed lowers before her. By +that act he is accepted by the lady as her knight of honor, +a quality by which he is to exercise sovereign surveillance over +the combatants, and if the point of the weapon from which +hangs the necklace touch any of the jousters, he must immediately +withdraw from the combat. In giving her necklace to +her knight, Gloriande's shoulders and bosom remain naked, +and she receives without blushing the testimonies of admiration +showered upon her by the knights in her vicinity, whose +libertine praises savor strongly of the obscene crudities peculiar +to the language of those days. After having made the tour of +the field, during which he displays anew his skill in horsemanship, +the Sire of Nointel returns to the foot of the platform +where the queen of the tournament is seated, and raises his +lance. The clarions forthwith resound, the bars are let down +at the opposite sides of the arena, and each gives passage to a +troop of knights armed cap-a-pie, visors down, recognizable only +by their emblems or the color of their shields and the banners +of their lances. The two sets, mounted on horses covered with +iron, remain for an instant motionless like equestrian statues, +at the extremities of the arena. The lances of these gallants, +six feet long and stripped of their iron, are, in the parlance +of tourneys, "courteous"; their thrust, no wise dangerous, can +have for its only effect to roll the ill-mounted combatant off +his horse. The Sire of Nointel consults the radiant Gloriande +with the eye. With a majestic air she waves her embroidered +handkerchief, and immediately her knight of honor utters three +times the consecrated formula: "Let them go! Let them go! +Let them go!"</p> + +<p>The two sets break loose; the horses are put to a gallop; and, +lances in rest, they rush to the center of the lists, where they +dash against one another, horses and riders, with an incredible<a name="page_037" id="page_037"></a> +clatter of hardware. In the shock the larger number of lances fly +into splinters. The disarmed tilters thus declare themselves vanquished, +and their armor and mounting belong by right to +the vanquisher. Accordingly, these tourneys are as much a +game of hazard as is a game of dice. Not a few renowned +tilters, hankering after florins more than after a puerile glory, +derive large revenues from their skill in these ridiculous jousts; +almost always do the adversaries whom they have overcome +ransom their arms and horses with considerable sums. At a +signal of the Sire of Nointel, a few minutes' truce followed upon +the disarming of two of the knights who rolled down upon the +thick bed of sand that the ground is prudently covered with. +There is nothing so pitifully grotesque as the appearance of +these disarmed gallants. Their valets raise them up in almost +one lump within their thick iron shell that impedes their movements, +and with legs stiff and apart, they reach the barrier +steaming in perspiration, seeing that, in order to soften the +pressure, these noble combatants wear under their armor a skin +shirt and hose thickly padded with horse's hair. The vanquished +abandon the lists in disgrace, while the vanquishers, +after prancing over the arena, approach the platform where the +queen of the tournament is enthroned. There they lower their +lances to her in token of gallant homage. The charmed +Gloriande answers them with a condescending smile and they +leave the lists in triumph. The remaining knights now continue +the struggle on foot and with swords—swords no less +"courteous" than their lances, without either point or edge, so +that these valiant champions skirmish with steel bars three feet +and a half long, and they carry themselves heroically in a combat +that is all the less perilous, seeing that they are protected +against all possible danger by their padded undergarments laid +over by an impenetrable armor.</p> + +<p>At a fresh signal from the Sire of Nointel, a furious conflict +is engaged in by the remaining combatants. One of them slips +and falls over backward and remains motionless, as little able<a name="page_038" id="page_038"></a> +to rise as a tortoise laid on its back. Another of the Cæsars +has his sword broken in two in his own hands. Only two combatants +now remain, and continue the struggle with rage. The +one carries a green buckler emblazoned with an argent lion, +the other a red buckler emblazoned with a gold dolphin. The +knight of the argent lion deals with his sword such a hard +blow upon his adversary's casque, that, dazed by the shock, +the latter falls heavily upon his haunches on the sand. The +great conqueror superbly enjoyed his triumph by proudly contemplating +his vanquished adversary, ridiculously seated at his +feet; and, responding to the enthusiastic acclamations of the +assembled nobility, he approached the throne of the queen of +the tourney, bent one knee, and raised his visor. After placing +a rich collar around the conqueror's neck in token of his prowess, +Gloriande stooped down, and, following the custom of the time, +deposited a loud and long kiss upon his lips. This duty, attached +to her distinguished office, Gloriande fulfilled without +blushing, and with an off-handedness that denoted ample experience. +Thanks to her beauty, the young lady of Chivry had +been often before chosen queen of tournaments. The clarions +announced the victory of the knight of the argent lion, who, strutting +proudly with the trophy around his neck, placed his right +hand on his hip, walked around the arena, and marched out at the +barriers.</p> + +<p>These first passages of arms were followed by an interval +during which the valets of the Sire of Nointel, carrying cups, +plates, and flagons of gold and silver, that glistened in the +dazzled eyes of the peasants, served the noble company on the +platform with spiced wines, refreshments and choice pastries, +ample honor being done by all to the munificence of the Sire of +Nointel.<a name="page_039" id="page_039"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_IV-a" id="CHAPTER_IV-a"></a>CHAPTER IV.<br /><br /> +THE JUDICIAL COMBAT.</h3> + +<p>The seigneurs, their wives and daughters on the platforms had +just enjoyed the refection, while commenting upon the incidents +of the tourney, when a shudder ran through the crowd +of peasants and bourgeois massed outside of the barriers. Until +then and while witnessing the jousts and the passages of arms +they had been animated with curiosity only. In the combat, +which it was murmured among them was to follow these harmless +struggles, the populace felt themselves concerned. It was to be +a combat to the death between a vassal and a knight, the latter +on horseback and in full armor, the vassal on foot, dressed in +his blouse and armed with a stick. Even the more timid and +brutalized ones among the vassals revolted at the thought of +so crassly unequal a conflict, in which one of their class was +inevitably destined to death. It was, accordingly, amidst a silence +laden with anxiety and suppressed anger that one of the heralds +uttered three times from the center of the arena the consecrated +formula: "Let the appellant enter!"</p> + +<p>The knight Gerard of Chaumontel, now summoned to the trial +of a judicial combat against the accusation of theft made by +Mazurec, issued from one of the contiguous tents and entered +the arena on horseback, in full armor. His buckler hangs from +his neck; his visor is up; in his hand he carries a little image +of St. James, for whom the pious knight seemed to entertain +a peculiar devotion. His two seconds, on horseback like himself, +ride beside him. With him they make the round of the +arena while the fair Gloriande says to her father disdainfully: +"What a shame for the nobility to see a knight reduced, in +order to prove his innocence, to do combat with a varlet!"<a name="page_040" id="page_040"></a></p> + +<p>"Oh, my daughter! What evil days these are that we live +in!" answered the aged seigneur with a growl. "Those accursed +king's jurists are crossing their pencils over all our rights +under the impertinent pretext of legalizing them. Was not a +decree of the court of the seneschal of Beauvoisis requisite in +order to authorize our friend Conrad to exercise his seigniorial +right over a miserable female serf in revolt?" Remembering, +however, that his daughter was the betrothed of the Sire of +Nointel, the Count of Chivry stopped short. Gloriande surmised +the cause of her father's reticence and said to him with a +haughtiness that verged on anger: "Do you think that I am +jealous of such as her? Can I look upon these female serfs as +rivals?"</p> + +<p>"No, no; I am not placing such an insult upon you, my +daughter ... but after all, the rebellion of that female +vassal is as novel as it is monstrous. Oh, the spirit of revolt +among the populace, although partly broken to-day, has spread +into our domains and has infested our peasants also; and that +is taken by the crown for a pretext to add to our troubles by +encroaching upon our rights, claiming that they must be first +sanctioned by the jurists. A curse upon all reform kings!"</p> + +<p>"But, father, our rights remain."</p> + +<p>"Blood and thunder, my daughter! Do our privileges stand +in need of confirmation by the men of the gown? Does not our +class hold its rights by the right of our ancestors' swords? No, +no, the crown aims at monopolizing all rights, and to be the sole +exploiter of the plebs."</p> + +<p>"Have not the kings," observed another knight, "taken from +us one of our best sources of revenue, the minting of money +in our seigniories, under the pretext that we coined false money? +The devil take kings who hold up law! May hell consume the +gentry of the pen!"</p> + +<p>"Blood and thunder! It is enough to make one's blood boil +in his veins," cried the Count of Chivry. "Is there in the<a name="page_041" id="page_041"></a> +whole world any worse money than the king's. False coiners +have been quartered who are less thievish than our King John +and his predecessors."</p> + +<p>"Let that good prince look elsewhere than here for support," +put in another knight. "The truce with England will soon +expire. If war breaks out anew, King John will see neither +a man nor a gold piece out of my domain. He may, for all I +care, leave his carcass on the field of battle."</p> + +<p>"Oh, gentlemen," said Gloriande gulping down a yawn, "how +uninteresting is your conversation! Let us rather talk about +the Court of Love that is soon to hold its sessions in Clermont, +and for which I shall order the most skillful hairdressers from +Paris. I am also expecting a Lombard who is to bring me +magnificent silks, woven with gold and silver, and which I shall +wear during the solemnity."</p> + +<p>"And what do you expect to pay all those fine things with?" +cried the Count of Chivry. "How are we to meet the expenses +of brilliant tourneys and the sumptuous displays of the Court of +Love if, on the one side, the King ruins us, and, on the other, +Jacques Bonhomme refuses to work?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! Oh! Dear father!" replied the fair Gloriande, laughing +aloud. "Jacques Bonhomme will meekly bend the neck. At +the first crack of the whip of one of our hunters you will see +those varlets lie down flat upon their faces. And mind you," +added the young lady, redoubling her laughter, "just turn your +eyes to that bugaboo of a Jacques Bonhomme, does he not look +redoubtable?" and she pointed with her finger at Mazurec the +Lambkin, who, at the second call of the herald, had stepped +into the arena accompanied by his two seconds, Jocelyn the +Champion and Adam the Devil. Mazurec, dressed in his +"blaude," the ancient Gallic blouse, made of coarse cloth and +of the same fabric as his hose, wore on his head a woolen cap while +his wooden shoes partly hid his bare feet. Jocelyn, his second, +held in his hand a stout stick of sorb, four feet long, and freshly +cut by himself in a neighboring thicket, with an eye to the fact<a name="page_042" id="page_042"></a> +that, when fresh, the sorb wood is heavy and does not easily +break. The appellee, as well as the appellant, in the judicial +battle were required to make the round of the arena before engaging +in combat. The serf filled the formality in slow and +measured steps, accompanied by his two seconds.</p> + +<p>"My brave fellow," Jocelyn said to Mazurec, "do not forget +my advice, and you stand a chance of worsting your noble robber, +for all that he may be on horseback and armed cap-a-pie."</p> + +<p>"I'd as lief die," answered the serf, marching dejectedly +between his two seconds with his head down and his eyes fixed: +"When I saw Aveline this morning it was as if a knife had +entered my heart," he added sobbing. "Oh, I am a lost man!"</p> + +<p>"By the navel of the Pope! No feebleness," replied Jocelyn +with emphasis and alarmed at the despondent voice of his principal. +"Where is your courage? This morning from a lambkin +you became a wolf."</p> + +<p>"To now live with my poor wife would be a daily torture to +me," murmured the serf. "I would rather the knight killed me +outright."</p> + +<p>Thus conversing, half the field had been covered by Mazurec +in company with his seconds. The latter, more and more +alarmed at the unhappy young man's despondency, were at that +moment passing at the foot of the amphitheater where the nobility +of the neighborhood were seated with the fair Gloriande in their +midst. Casting an expressive look at the champion, Adam the +Devil nudged Mazurec with his elbow and said to him in a low +voice: "Take a look at the betrothed of our seigneur.... +I swear she's handsome!... That will make a pretty wedding! +Hm!... Won't the two lovers be happy?" At +these words, which fell like molten lead upon the bleeding +wound in his heart, the vassal shook convulsively. "Take a +good look at the handsome young lady," proceeded Adam the +Devil. "See how happy she is in her rich clothes. Do you hear +her laugh?... Go to! No doubt she's laughing at you<a name="page_043" id="page_043"></a> +and at your wife, who was violated last night by our seigneur.... +But do take a look at the beauty! I wager she is +jeering at you."</p> + +<p>Drawn from his dejection, and rage mounting to his heart, +Mazurec brusquely raised his head. For an instant his eyes +fiery and red with weeping, fastened on the betrothed of his +seigneur, the haughty damosel, resplendent in attire and personal +beauty, radiant with happiness, and surrounded by brilliant +knights, who, courting her smiles, crowded near her.</p> + +<p>"At this hour," the caustic voice of Adam the Devil whispered +to the ear of Mazurec, "your own bride is drinking her shame +and her tears. What! In order to avenge Aveline and yourself +would you not make an attempt to kill the nobleman who +robbed you!... That thief is the cause of all your misfortune."</p> + +<p>"My stick!" cried the vassal leaping forward, transported +with rage, at the same instant that one of the sergeants-at-arms +hurried by to notify him that it was not allowed to stop on the +arena and look at the ladies, but that he was to betake himself +to one of the tents in order, before the combat, to take the +customary oaths with the vicar of Nointel. Now inflamed with +hatred and rage, Mazurec quickly followed the sergeant-at-arms, +while, walking more slowly, Jocelyn said to Adam the +Devil:</p> + +<p>"You must have suffered a great deal in your lifetime ... +I overheard you a minute ago. You know how to fire hatred—"</p> + +<p>"Three years ago," broke in the serf with a wild look, "I +killed my wife with an axe, and yet I loved her to distraction—"</p> + +<p>"Was that at Bourcy—near Senlis?"</p> + +<p>"Who told you of it? How come you to know it?"</p> + +<p>"I happened to ride through the village on the day of the +murder. You preferred to see your wife dead rather than disgraced +by your episcopal seigneur."</p> + +<p>"Exactly. That's the way I felt on the subject."<a name="page_044" id="page_044"></a></p> + +<p>"But how did you become a serf of this seigniory?"</p> + +<p>"After I killed my wife, I kept in hiding for a month in the +forest of Senlis, where I lived on roots; thereupon I came to this +country. Caillet gave me shelter. I offered my services as a +butcher to the superintendent of the seigniory of Nointel. After +the lapse of a year I was numbered among the vassals of the +domain. I remained here out of friendship for Caillet."</p> + +<p>During this conversation between his two seconds Mazurec had +arrived near the tent where he, as well as the Knight of Chaumontel, +was to take the customary oath. Clad in his sacerdotal +robes and holding a crucifix in his hands, the vicar addressed the +serf and the knight.</p> + +<p>"Appellant and appellee, do not ye shut your eyes to the +danger to which you expose your souls in combating for a bad +cause. If either of you wishes to withdraw and place himself +at the mercy of his seigneur and the King, it is still time. It +will soon be too late. One of you is about to cross the gates of +the other world. You will there find seated a God who is merciless +to the perjurer. Appellant and appellee, think of that. All +men are equally weak before the tribunal of divine justice. The +eternal kingdom is not entered in armor. Is either of you willing +to recede?"</p> + +<p>"I shall maintain unto death that this knight has robbed me; +he has caused my misfortunes; if God is just, I shall kill this +man," answered Mazurec in a voice of concentrated rage.</p> + +<p>"And I," cried the knight of Chaumontel, "swear to God that +that vassal lies in his throat, and outrageously slanders me. +I shall prove his imposture with the intercession of our Lord +and all his saints, especially with the good help of St. James, my +blessed patron."</p> + +<p>"Aye," put in Jocelyn, "and above all with the good help of +your armor, your lance and your sword. Infamous man! To +battle on horseback, helmet on head, cuirass on body, sword at +your side, lance in your hand, against a poor man on foot and +armed only with a stick. Aye, you behave like a coward.<a name="page_045" id="page_045"></a> +Cowards are thieves; consequently, you stole the purse of my +principal!"</p> + +<p>"How dare you address me in such words!" cried the knight +of Chaumontel. "Such a common fellow as you! Miserable +vagabond! Intolerable criminal!"</p> + +<p>"Heavens be praised! He utters insults!" exclaimed Jocelyn +with delight. "Oh, Sir thief, if you are not the most cowardly +of two-legged hares, you will follow me on the spot behind +yonder pavillion, or else I shall slap your ignoble scamp's face +with the scabbard of my sword."</p> + +<p>Livid with rage, Gerard of Chaumontel was, to the extreme +joy of Jocelyn, about to accept the latter's challenge, when one +of his seconds said to him:</p> + +<p>"That bandit is trying to save his principal by provoking +you to a fight. Fall not into the trap. Do not mind him, mind +the vassal."</p> + +<p>Taking this prudent advice, Gerard of Chaumontel contemptuously +answered Jocelyn: "When arms in hand I shall +have convicted this other varlet of imposture, I shall then consider +whether you deserve that I accept your insolent challenge."</p> + +<p>"You evidently desire to taste the scabbard of my sword," +cried Jocelyn. "By heaven, I shall not deprive you of the dish; +and if your hang-dog face does not redden with shame, it will +redden under my slaps. Coward and felon—"</p> + +<p>"Not another word, or I shall order one of my men to expel +you from the arena," said the herald-at-arms to Jocelyn; "a +second has no right to insult the adversary of his own principal."</p> + +<p>Jocelyn realized that he would be compelled to yield to force, +held his tongue, and cast a distracted look at Mazurec. The +vicar of Nointel raised the crucifix and resumed in his nasal voice: +"Appellant and appellee, do you and each of you still insist +that your cause is just? Do you swear on the image of the +Saviour of mankind?" and the vicar presented the crucifix to<a name="page_046" id="page_046"></a> +the knight, who took off his iron gauntlet and placing his hand +upon the image of Christ, declared:</p> + +<p>"My cause is just, I swear to God!"</p> + +<p>"My cause is just," said in turn Mazurec; "and I take God for +my witness; but let us combat quickly; oh, quickly!"</p> + +<p>"Do you swear," proceeded the vicar, "that neither of you +carries about his person either stone, or herb, or any other +magic charm, amulet or incantation of the enemy of man?"</p> + +<p>"I swear," said the knight.</p> + +<p>"I swear," said Mazurec panting with rage. "Oh, how much +time is lost!"</p> + +<p>"And now, appellant and appellee," cried the herald-at-arms, +"the lists are open to you. Do your duty."</p> + +<p>The knight of Chaumontel seized his long lance and jumped +upon his horse, which one of his seconds held for him, while +Jocelyn, pale and deeply moved, said to Mazurec, while giving +him his stick: "Courage!... Follow my advice ... +I expect you will kill that coward ... But one last word.... It regards your mother ... Did she never tell +you the name of your father?"</p> + +<p>"Never ... as I told you this morning in prison. +My mother always avoided speaking to me of my father."</p> + +<p>"And her name was Gervaise?" asked Jocelyn pensively. +"What was the color of her hair and eyes?"</p> + +<p>"Her hair was blonde, her eyes black. Poor mother."</p> + +<p>"And had she no other mark?"</p> + +<p>"She had a small scar above her right eye-brow—"</p> + +<p>The clarions sounded at this point. It was the signal for the +judicial duel. Unable to restrain his tears, Jocelyn pressed +Mazurec in his arms and said to him: "I may not at a moment +like this reveal to you the cause of the double interest that +you inspire me ... My suspicions and hopes, perhaps, +deceive me ... But courage ... Hit your enemy on +the head."</p> + +<p>"Courage!" put in Adam the Devil in an undertone. "In<a name="page_047" id="page_047"></a> +order to keep your blood boiling, think of your wife ... +remember the betrothed of your seigneur laughed at you.... +Kill the thief, and patience.... It will some day be our +turn to laugh at the noble damosel.... Think above all of +your wife ... of her last nights shame and of your own.... +Remember that you have both been made forever unhappy, +and fall to bravely upon that nobleman! Be brave.... +You have a cane, nails and teeth!"</p> + +<p>Mazurec the Lambkin uttered a cry of rage and rushed into +the lists at the moment when, in answer to a motion from the +Sire of Nointel, the marshal of the tourney gave the signal for +the combat to the appellant and appellee by calling three times +the consecrated words: "Let them go!"</p> + +<p>The noble spectators on the platform laughed in advance at +the sorry discomfiture of Jacques Bonhomme; but among the +plebeian crowd all hearts stopped beating with anxiety at this +decisive moment. The knight of Chaumontel, a vigorous man, +armed in full panoply, mounted on a tall charger covered with +iron, and his long lance in rest, occupied the center of the arena, +while Mazurec dashed to the spot barefoot, clad in his blouse +and holding his stick in his hands. At sight of the serf, the +knight, who, out of contempt for such an adversary, had disdained +to lower his visor, put the spurs to his horse, and lowering +his pointed iron-headed lance, charged upon the serf certain of +transfixing him then and there, and then trampling over him +with his horse. But Mazurec, mindful of Jocelyn's recommendations, +avoided the lance thrust by suddenly letting himself +down flat upon his face; and then, partly rising up at the +moment when the horse was about to grind him under its +hoofs, he dealt the animal two such heavy blows with his stick +on its forelegs that the courser, stung with pain, reared, slipped +its footing and almost fell over, while its rider was shaken out of +position on the saddle.</p> + +<p>"Felony!" cried the Sire of Nointel with indignation. "It is +forbidden to strike a horse!"<a name="page_048" id="page_048"></a></p> + +<p>"Well done, my brave woolen cap!" cried the populace on the +outside, palpitating with suspense and clapping their hands, +despite the strictness and severity of the royal ordinances +which commanded profound silence to the spectators at a tourney.</p> + +<p>"Fall to, Mazurec!" simultaneously cried Jocelyn and Adam +the Devil. "Courage! Kill the nobleman! Kill him! Death +to the thief!"</p> + +<p>Mazurec rose, and seeing the knight out of poise and holding +to the bow of his saddle, dropped his stick, picked up a fistful +of sand, leaped upon the horse behind Gerard of Chaumontel, +while the latter was seeking to regain his equilibrium, lost no +time in clutching the knight around the neck with one hand, +turned him half over backward, and with the other rubbed his +eyes with the sand he had just picked up. Almost half-blinded, +the noble robber dropped his lance and reins and sought to carry +his hands to his eyes. Mazurec seeing the movement, put his +arms around the knight, and, after a short struggle, succeeded +in making him wholly lose his balance and tumble down to the +ground, where both fell rolling on the arena, while the crowd +of serfs, now considering the serf the victor over the knight, +clapped their hands, stamped on the ground with joy and cried: +"Victory for the woolen cap!"</p> + +<p>Gerard of Chaumontel, however, although blinded by the sand +and dazed by the fall, gathered fresh strength from the rage +that took possession of him at finding himself unhorsed by a +peasant, and with little difficulty regained the upper hand +over his unskilled adversary. In the unequal struggle against +the man clad in iron, the tight clasp of the virtually naked serf +was in vain; his nails broke off against, or glided harmlessly +over the polished armor of his adversary, while the latter, +finally succeeding in planting his two knees upon the serf's +chest, bruised his head and face with a shower of hammer blows +dealt with his iron gauntlet. His face beaten to pulp and bleeding, +Mazurec pronounced once more the name of Aveline and<a name="page_049" id="page_049"></a> +remained motionless. Gerard of Chaumontel, who was gradually +regaining his sight, not satisfied with having almost beaten the +serf's face out of shape, then drew his dagger to finish his victim. +But quickly recalling himself, and animated by a feeling of +refined cruelty, he replaced the dagger in his belt, rose upright, +and placing one of his iron shod feet upon the chest +of the prostrate and moaning Mazurec, cried in a stentorian +voice: "Let this vile impostor be bound up, put in a bag and +thrown into the river as he deserves. It is the law of the duel; +let it be carried out!"<a name="page_050" id="page_050"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_V-a" id="CHAPTER_V-a"></a>CHAPTER V.<br /><br /> +SHEET LIGHTNINGS.</h3> + +<p>An oppressive silence followed the close of the judicial combat, +as Gerard of Chaumontel, leaving the outstretched body +of the serf on the sand, rejoined his seconds while rubbing his +irritated eyelids, and jointly they quitted the arena. The sergeant-at-arms +had proceeded to pick up the prostrate body of the vassal +in order to carry it to the bridge that spanned the near-by +river; and the vicar of Nointel had followed on the tracks of +the mournful train, in order to administer the last sacraments +to the condemned man so soon as he should recover consciousness, +and before he was bundled into a bag, agreeable to the ordinance, +and cast into the river. For a moment struck dumb with terror +by the issue of the judicial combat, the plebs crowd was slowly +recovering its voice, and, despite its habit of respect towards +the seigneurs, had begun to murmur with rising indignation. +Several voices were heard to say that the knight having been +unhorsed by the vassal, the latter was to be considered the victor +and should not be killed. The turmoil was on the increase, +when an unexpected event suddenly drew to itself the attention +of the crowd and cut short its criminations. A large troop of +men-at-arms, covered with dust and one of whom bore a white +flag emblazoned with the fleur-de-lis,<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> hove in sight at a distance +over the field and rapidly approached the fenced-in arena. +Mazurec was forgotten. Sharing the astonishment of the assembled +nobility at the sight of the armed troop that had now +reached the barriers, the Sire of Nointel applied both spurs to +his horse, rode rapidly forward, and addressing himself to one<a name="page_051" id="page_051"></a> +of the new arrivals, a herald with the fleur-de-lis jacket, saluted +him courteously and inquired:</p> + +<p>"Sir herald, what brings you hither?"</p> + +<p>"An order of the King, my master. I am charged with a message +to all the seigneurs and noblemen of Beauvoisis. Having +learned that a large number of them were gathered at this place, +I came hither. Listen to the envoy of King John."</p> + +<p>"Enter the lists and read your message aloud," answered +Conrad of Nointel to the herald, who, producing a parchment +from a richly embroidered bag, rode to the center of the arena +and prepared to read.</p> + +<p>"This extraordinary message augurs nothing good," said the +seigneur of Chivry to his daughter Gloriande. "King John is +going to demand some levy of men of us for his war against +the English, unless it be some new edict on coinage, some fresh +royal pillage."</p> + +<p>"Oh, father! If, like so many other seigneurs, you had only +chosen to go to the court at Paris ... you would then +have shared in the largesses of King John, who, we hear, is +so magnificently prodigal towards the courtiers. You would +then have gained on the one side what you lost on the other. +And then also ... they say the court is such a charming +place ... continuous royal feasts and dances, enhanced +by choicest gallantry. After our marriage Conrad must take +me to Paris. I wish to shine at the royal court."</p> + +<p>"You are a giddy-headed girl," observed the aged seigneur +shrugging his shoulders, and half closing his fist, which he +applied to his ear for a trumpet, so as to be better able to hear +the royal herald, he remarked to himself: "What devil of a +song is he going to sing to us?"</p> + +<p>"John, by the grace of God, King of the French," said the +herald reading from his parchment, "to his dear, beloved and +faithful seigneurs of Beauvoisis; Greeting!"</p> + +<p>"Proceed, proceed; we can do very well without your politeness<a name="page_052" id="page_052"></a> +and greetings," grumbled the aged seigneur of Chivry. +"They are gilding the pill for us to swallow."</p> + +<p>"Pray, father, let me hear the messenger," said Gloriande +impatiently. "The royal language has a court perfume that +ravishes me."</p> + +<p>The herald proceeded: "The mortal enemy of the French, +the Prince of Wales, son of the King of England, has perfidiously +broken the truce that was not to expire for some time +longer. He is advancing at the head of a strong army."</p> + +<p>"There we are," cried the Count of Chivry, angrily stamping +with his feet. "It is a levy of men that we are going to be asked +for. Blood and massacre! To the devil with the King!"</p> + +<p>The herald continued reading: "After having set fire to +everything on their route, the English are marching towards the +heart of the country. In order to arrest this disastrous invasion, +and in view of this great public danger, we impose upon our +peoples and our beloved nobility a double tax for this year. +Furthermore, we enjoin, order and command all our dear, beloved +and faithful seigneurs of Beauvoisis to take up arms themselves, +levy their men, and join us within eight days at Bourg, whence +we shall take the field against the English, whom we shall +vanquish with the aid of God and our valiant nobility. Let +everyone be at his post of battle. Such is my will. J<small>OHN</small>."</p> + +<p>This appeal from the King of the French to his valiant +nobility of Beauvoisis was received by the noble assemblage +with a mute stupor, that speedily made place for murmurs +of anger and rebellion.</p> + +<p>"We refuse to give men and money. To the devil with +King John!" cried the Count of Chivry. "Already has he +imposed subsidies upon us for the maintenance of his troops. +Let him take them to war! We propose to remain at our +manors!"</p> + +<p>"Well said!" exclaimed another seigneur. "The King evidently +kept up no army. All our moneys have been squandered<a name="page_053" id="page_053"></a> +in pleasures and festivities. The court at Paris is an insatiable +maw!"</p> + +<p>"What!" interjected a third; "we are to wear ourselves out +making Jacques Bonhomme sweat all the wealth he can, and +the cream thereof is to go into the King's coffers? Not by all +the devils! Already have we given too much."</p> + +<p>"Let the King defend himself. His domains are more exposed +than our own. Let him protect them!"</p> + +<p>"It is all we can do, we and our own armed forces, to protect +our castles against the bands of marauders, of Navarrais and of +the hired soldiery that ravages our lands! And are we to abandon +our homes in order to march against the English? By +the saints! Fine goslings would we be!"</p> + +<p>"And in our absence, Jacques Bonhomme, who seems to +indulge in dreams of revolt, will put in fine strokes!"</p> + +<p>"By heavens, messieurs!" cried a young knight, "We, nevertheless, +may not, to the shame of knighthood, remain barracked +on our own manors while battles are being fought on the frontier."</p> + +<p>"Well! And who keeps you back, my dear fire-eater?" cried +the Count of Chivry. "Are you curious to make acquaintance +with war? Very well; depart quickly, and soon.... Each +one disposes at his will of his own person and men."</p> + +<p>"As to me," loudly put in the radiant Gloriande with fiery +indignation, "I shall not bestow my hand on Conrad of Nointel +if he does not depart for the war, and return crowned with the +laurels of victory, leading to my feet ten Englishmen in chains. +Shame and disgrace! Gallant knights to stay at home when +their King calls them to arms! I shall not acknowledge for my +lord and husband any but a valiant knight!"</p> + +<p>Despite Gloriande's heroic words and a few other rare protests +against the selfish and ignominious cowardice of the larger +number of seigneurs, a general murmur of approval received +the words of the aged seigneur of Chivry, who, encouraged by<a name="page_054" id="page_054"></a> +the almost unanimous support of the assembly, stepped upon +his bench and answered the herald in a stentorian voice:</p> + +<p>"Sir, in the name of the nobility of Beauvoisis, I now answer +you that we have our hands so full on our own domains, that it +would be disastrous for us to take the field in distant regions. +For the rest, the request of the King will be considered when +the deputies of the nobility and the clergy shall be assembled +in the States General of the Kingdom. Until then we shall remain +at home."</p> + +<p>A sudden outburst of hisses from the crowd of peasants and +bourgeois answered the words of the seigneur of Chivry; and +Adam the Devil, leaving Jocelyn the Champion for a moment +alone with Mazurec, who, having regained consciousness, was +resignedly expecting the hour of his death, thrust himself among +several groups of serfs saying:</p> + +<p>"Do you hear them? Fine seigneurs they are!... What +are they good for?... Only to combat in tourneys +with pointless lances and edgeless swords, or to indulge in +bravados in combats, where they are fully armed, against Jacques +Bonhomme, armed only with a stick!"</p> + +<p>"That's so!" answered several angry voices. "To the devil +with the nobility!"</p> + +<p>"Poor Mazurec the Lambkin! It is enough to make one's +heart ache to see his face bleeding under the iron gauntlet of the +Knight."</p> + +<p>"And now they are to put him in a bag and throw him into the +water!... I declare.... That's what they call justice...."</p> + +<p>"Ah! When, thanks to the cowardice of our seigneurs, the +English will have penetrated to this region," resumed Adam the +Devil, "what with our masters on one side and the English on +the other, we shall be like iron beaten on the anvil by the hammer. +Oppressed by these, pillaged and sacked by the others, +our lot will be twice as hard. Woe is us!"</p> + +<p>"That's what happens now when bands of marauders descend<a name="page_055" id="page_055"></a> +upon our villages. We flee for safety to the woods, and when +we return, we find our homes in flames or in ashes!"</p> + +<p>"O, God! What a lot is ours!"</p> + +<p>"And yet our vicar says that secures our salvation ... in +heaven! Another fraud upon us!"</p> + +<p>"Woe is us if on top of all our ills we are to be ravaged +and tortured by the English. That means our end."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and we are all to go down through the cowardice of our +seigneurs," put in Adam the Devil, "themselves, their families +and retainers safely entrenched and provisioned in their fortified +castles, they will allow us to be pillaged and massacred by the +English! Oh! What a fate is in store for us!"</p> + +<p>"And when everything we have will have been devastated," +replied another serf in despair, "our seigneur will then tell us, +as he told us when the last gang of marauders passed over the +region like a hurricane: 'Pay your taxes, Jacques Bonhomme,' +'But, Sire, the marauders have carried away everything; they +have left us only our eyes to weep with, and we weep!' 'Oh, +you rebel, Jacques Bonhomme! Give him quick a beating and +put him to the torture!' Oh, it is too much ... too much!... +That must end. Death to the nobles and their helpers, +the clergy!"</p> + +<p>The murmurs among the rustic plebs, at first low and +rumbling, presently broke out into loud hisses and imprecations, +and these were so menacing and direct against the nobles, +that the seigneurs, for a moment taken aback by the incredible +audacity of Jacques Bonhomme, bridled up furiously, drew +their swords, and, in the midst of alarmed cries of the elder +and younger ladies, precipitately descended the steps of the platform +to chastise the varlets at the head of the sergeants of the +tourney, their own men-at-arms and also of those of the royal +herald, who promptly sided with the noblemen against the +plebs.</p> + +<p>"Friends," cried Adam the Devil, rushing from one group +of the serfs to another to inflame their courage, "if the seigneurs<a name="page_056" id="page_056"></a> +are a hundred, we are a thousand. Have you not a minute ago +seen Mazurec unhorse a knight all alone, with his stick and only +a handful of sand? Let's prove those nobles that we are not +afraid of them. Pick up stones and sticks! Let's deliver +Mazurec the Lambkin! Death to the nobles!"</p> + +<p>"Yes! Take up stones and sticks! Let's deliver Mazurec!" +responded the more daring ones. "The devil take the seigneurs +who wish to leave us at the mercy of the English!"</p> + +<p>Under the pressure of this furious mob a portion of the barrier +around the lists was soon torn up and a large number of vassals, +arming themselves with the debris of the fence, redoubled their +threats and imprecations against the seigneurs. Attracted by +the tumult and catching a glimpse of Adam the Devil, who with +glistening eyes was brandishing one of the posts of the barrier, +Jocelyn left Mazurec and ran towards the serf to whom he cried +out: "Those wretches will be mowed down ... you will +lose everything.... The right time has not yet come!"</p> + +<p>"It is always in time to kill noblemen," answered Adam the +Devil, grinding his teeth, saying which he redoubled his vociferations: +"Stones and sticks! Let's deliver Mazurec!"</p> + +<p>"But you lose him by that!" cried Jocelyn in despair. "You +will lose him! I hoped to save him!" and turning to the surrounding +serfs he said: "Do not attack the seigneurs; you are +in the open field, they on horseback; you will be trampled under +foot. Come, now! Disperse!"</p> + +<p>The voice of Jocelyn was lost in the tumult, and his efforts +remained fruitless in the midst of the exasperation of the +mob. A reflux of the crowd separated him from Adam the +Devil, and soon the foresight of the champion was but too well +verified. For a moment taken by surprise and even frightened +at the aggressive attitude of Jacques Bonhomme, a spectacle +they had never before witnessed, the seigneurs presently recovered +their composure. Headed by the Sire of Nointel and +supported by about fifty men-at-arms, sergeants and knights +who speedily mounted their horses, the armed nobility now<a name="page_057" id="page_057"></a> +advanced in good order, and charged upon the revolted serfs +with swords and lances. The women and children who happened +to be in the crowd, were thrown down and trampled over +by the horses, and filled the air with their heart-rending cries. +The peasants, without order and without leadership, and already +frightened at their own audacity whose consequences they +now dreaded, fled in all directions over the meadow. Some few +of the more valorous and determined stood their ground and +were either cut down by the knights or severely wounded and +taken prisoners. In the heat of the fray, Adam the Devil, who +had been thrown down by a sabre cut, was seeking to rise when +he felt a Herculean hand seize him by the collar, raise him +and despite his resistance, drag him far away from the field +of carnage. The serf recognized Jocelyn who said to him while +dragging him along: "You will be a precious man on the day +of uprising ... but to allow yourself to be killed to-day +is an act of folly.... Come, let us preserve ourselves for a +later day."</p> + +<p>"Mazurec is lost!" cried the serf in the agony of despair +and struggling against Jocelyn; but the latter, without making +answer, compelled Adam the Devil, who was greatly enfeebled +by the loss of blood, to take shelter behind a heap of lumber that +had been brought thither for the construction of the barrier +around the lists, but had been found unnecessary. Both lay +themselves down flat upon the grass.<a name="page_058" id="page_058"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_VI-a" id="CHAPTER_VI-a"></a>CHAPTER VI.<br /><br /> +PROPHECIES AND PREMONITIONS.</h3> + +<p>The sun has gone down; night is drawing nigh. The noble +dames, frightened by the recent popular commotion, have left +the platform of the tourney and returned to their manors either +on their palfreys or on the cruppers of their cavaliers' horses. +At a short distance from the lists where lay the corpses of a considerable +number of serfs, killed in their futile attempt at revolt, +flows the Orville River. On one side its banks are precipitous, +but on the other they slope gently, covered with reeds. The +river is crossed by a wooden bridge. To the right of the bridge +are a few old willows. Their branches have almost all been +freshly lopped off with axes. The few remaining ones, strongly +supported and spreading out, have been turned into gibbets. From +them now hang the bodies of four of the vassals who had been +captured in the revolt. The pendent bodies resemble shadows +cast upon the clear sky of the dusk. Night approaches rapidly. +Standing on the middle of the bridge surrounded by his friends, +among whom is Gerard of Chaumontel, the Sire of Nointel +makes a sign, and the last of the revolted and captured serfs is, +despite his cries and entreaties, hanged like his companions from +a branch of a willow on the bank of the river. A man then +brings to the bridge a large bag of coarse grey material, of the +kind used by the millers. A strong cord inserted at its mouth +like a purse-string enables its being tied closely. Mazurec the +Lambkin is led forward tightly pinioned. Up to then he had +been seated at one end of the bridge near the vicar. The latter +after having placed the crucifix to the mouths of the serfs that +had been hanged, returned to the victim about to be drowned. +Mazurec is no longer recognizable. His bruised face covered +with clotted blood is hideous to behold. One of his eyes has<a name="page_059" id="page_059"></a> +been knocked out and his nose crushed under the fierce blows +dealt him by the knight of Chaumontel with his iron gauntlet. +The executioner opens the mouth of the bag while the bailiff +of the seigniory approaches Mazurec and says: "Vassal, your +felony is notorious; you have dared to charge Gerard, a nobleman +of Chaumontel, with robbery; he appealed to a judicial +duel where you were vanquished and convicted of calumny and +defamation; in obedience to the royal ordinance, you are to be +submerged until death does ensue. Such is the supreme and +irrevocable sentence."</p> + +<p>Mazurec steps forward, and as he is about to be seized and +thrust into the bag, he raises his head, and addressing the Sire +of Nointel and Gerard, says to them as if inspired with prophetic +exaltation:</p> + +<p>"It is said among our people that those about to perish become +seers. Now, this is what I foretell: Gerard of Chaumontel, +you robbed me and now you have me drowned ... you +will die drowned. Sire of Nointel, you have done violence to +my wife ... your wife will be done violence to. Mayhap +my wife may bring to the world the child of a noble; ... your +wife may bring to the world the child of a serf. May +God take charge of my vengeance. The day of reprisals will +come!"</p> + +<p>Mazurec the Lambkin had barely uttered these words when +the executioner proceeded to tie him up in the bag. Conrad +grew pale and shivered at the sinister prophecy of his vassal, +and was unable to utter a word. Gerard, however, addressing +the serf who was being "bagged" burst out laughing and pointed +to the five hanged serfs who rocked in the evening breeze, and +whose outlines were dimly perceptible like spectres in the +twilight, said:</p> + +<p>"Look at the corpses of those villeins who dared to rebel against +their seigneurs! Look at the water that runs under the bridge +and that is about to swallow you up ... should Jacques +Bonhomme still dare to kick, there are our long lances to pierce<a name="page_060" id="page_060"></a> +him through, wide branched trees to hang, and rivers to drown +him."</p> + +<p>Mazurec was the while tied in the bag, and at the moment +when the executioner was about to hurl him into the river, +the vassal's voice was heard for the last time from within the +canvas. "Gerard of Chaumontel, you will be drowned; Sire of +Nointel, your wife will be violated...."</p> + +<p>A peal of contemptuous laughter from the knight answered +the serf's prediction, and amidst the silence of night the splash +was heard of Mazurec's body dropping into the deep waters of +the river.</p> + +<p>"Come away, come away," said the Sire of Nointel to Gerard +in a faltering voice; "let's return to the castle; this place +frightens me. The prophecy of that miserable villein makes +me shudder despite myself.... He mentioned reprisals."</p> + +<p>"What feebleness! Conrad, are you becoming weak-minded?"</p> + +<p>"Everything that happened to-day is of ill-omen. I tremble at +the future."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" replied Gerard, following his friend +who was walking away at a rapid pace. "What is that you said +about ill-omen? Come, explain the cause of your terror."</p> + +<p>"This evening, before returning to Chivry, Gloriande said to +me: 'Conrad, to-morrow my father celebrates our betrothal in +the chapel of his castle; I desire that you depart that same evening +to join the forces of the King; and even then I shall not +be your wife unless you lead back from battle and place at my +feet, as a pledge of your bravery, ten Englishmen in chains and +captured by yourself.'"</p> + +<p>"The devil take such folly!" cried Gerard. "The romances +of knighthood have turned her head!"</p> + +<p>"'I wish,' added Gloriande, 'that my husband be illustrious +by his prowesses. Therefore, Conrad, to-morrow I shall take +the oath at the altar to finish my days in a monastery, if you are +killed in battle, or if you fail in the promises that I have demanded +of you!'"<a name="page_061" id="page_061"></a></p> + +<p>"By the saints! That girl is gone daft on her Englishmen +in chains. There are only blows to be fetched in war, and +your betrothed runs the chances of seeing you return without +an eye, a leg or an arm ... if you do return.... The +devil take her whims!"</p> + +<p>"I am bound to yield to Gloriande's wishes. There is no more +stubborn head than hers. Besides, she loves me as I do her. +Her wealth is considerable. I have dissipated a good part of +my fortune at the court of King John. I cannot renounce the +marriage. Whatever it may cost me, I must join the army with +my men. Sad it is, but there is no choice!"</p> + +<p>"Be it so! But then fight ... prudently and moderately."</p> + +<p>"I am anxious to live so that I may marry Gloriande ... +provided during my absence the prediction of that miserable +vassal—"</p> + +<p>"Ho! Ho! Ho!" broke in the knight of Chaumontel, laughing +out aloud. "You surely are not troubled with the fear that +during your absence Jacques Bonhomme will violate your wife?"</p> + +<p>"These villeins, an unheard of thing, have dared to insult, to +menace and to throw themselves upon us like the wild beasts +that they are."</p> + +<p>"And you saw that rag-tag flee before our horses like a set +of hares. The executions of this evening will complete the +lesson, and Jacques Bonhomme will remain the Jacques Bonhomme +of ever. Come! Make your mind easy! While I prefer +a hundred times the hunt, the tourneys, wine, game and +love to the stupid and dangerous feats of war, I shall accompany +you to the army, so as to bring you back soon to the beautiful +Gloriande. As to the English prisoners that you are to lead in +chains to her feet as a pledge of your valor, we shall scrape together +a few leagues from our lady's manor the first varlets +that we can lay our hands on. We shall bind them and threaten +them with hanging if they utter a single word; and they will do<a name="page_062" id="page_062"></a> +well enough for the ten English prisoners. Is not the idea a +jolly one? But, Conrad, what are you brooding over?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I was wrong in exercising my right over that +vassal's wife," replied the Sire of Nointel with a somber and +pensive mien. "It was a mere libertine caprice, because I love +Gloriande. But the resistance of the scamp, who, besides, +charged you with theft, irritated me." And resuming after a +moment of silence, the Sire of Nointel addressed his friend: +"Tell me the truth; here among ourselves; did you really rob +the villein? It would have been an amusing trick.... I +only would like to know if you really did it?"</p> + +<p>"Conrad, the suspicion is insulting—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, it is not in the interest of the dead serf that I put the +question, but it is in my own."</p> + +<p>"How? Explain yourself more clearly."</p> + +<p>"If that vassal has been unjustly drowned ... his +prophecy would have more weight."</p> + +<p>"By heavens! Are you quite losing your wits, Conrad? Do +you see me saddened because Jacques Bonhomme has predicted +to me that I was to be drowned?... The devil! It is I +who mean to drown your sadness in a cup of good Burgundy +wine.... Come, Conrad, to horse ... to horse!... Supper +waits, and after the feast pretty female serfs! +Long live joy and love! Let's reach the manor in a canter—"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I did wrong in forcing the serf's wife," the Sire +of Nointel repeated to himself. "I know not why, but a tradition, +handed down from the elder branch of my family, located +at Auvergne, comes back to me at this moment. The tradition +has it that the hatred of the serfs has often been fatal to the +Nerowegs!"</p> + +<p>"Hallo, Conrad, to horse! Your valet has been holding your +stirrup for the last hour," broke in the cheerful voice of Gerard. +"What are you thinking about?"</p> + +<p>"I should not have violated the vassal's wife," the Sire of<a name="page_063" id="page_063"></a> +Nointel still mumbled while swinging himself on his horse's +back, and taking the route to his manor accompanied by Gerard +of Chaumontel.<a name="page_064" id="page_064"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_VII-a" id="CHAPTER_VII-a"></a>CHAPTER VII.<br /><br /> +WRECKED HEARTS.</h3> + +<p>The ground floor of the house of Alison the Huffy is closed. +A lamp burns inside, but the door and windows are bolted +within. Aveline-who-never-lied lies half stretched out upon a +bench. Her hands lie across her breast, her head reclines on the +knees of Alison. She would be thought asleep were it not for the +tremors that periodically convulse her frame. Her discolored +visage bears the traces of the tears, which, rarer now, still occasionally +escape from her swollen eyelids. The tavern-keeper +contemplates the unfortunate girl with an expression of profound +pity. William Caillet, seated near by, with his elbows +on his knees, his forehead in his hands, takes not his eyes from +his daughter. He remembered Alison, and relying on her kind-heartedness, +had taken Aveline to the tavern with the aid of +Adam the Devil, who immediately had gone out again to the +tourney to meet Jocelyn the Champion, by whom he was later +snatched from the fray.</p> + +<p>Suddenly sitting up affrighted, Aveline cried semi-delirious: +"They are drowning him.... I see it.... He is +drowned!... Did you not hear the splash of his body +dropping into the water?... My bridegroom is dead...."</p> + +<p>"Dear daughter," said Alison, breaking into tears, "calm yourself.... Have +confidence in God.... They may have +had mercy upon him—"</p> + +<p>"She is right.... This is the hour," said William Caillet +in a low hollow voice. "Mazurec was to be drowned at nightfall. +Patience! Every night has its morn. The unfortunate +man will be avenged."<a name="page_065" id="page_065"></a></p> + +<p>Hearing a rap at the door, Alison, who was holding Aveline +in her arms, turned to William: "Who can it be at this hour?"</p> + +<p>The old peasant rose, approached the door and asked: "Who's +that?"</p> + +<p>"I, Jocelyn the Champion," a voice answered.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" murmured Aveline's father, "he comes from the river"; +saying which he opened.</p> + +<p>Jocelyn entered with quick steps. At the sight, however, of +Mazurec's wife, held in a swooning condition in the arms of +Alison, he stopped short, turned to Caillet, and whispered to +him: "He is saved!"</p> + +<p>"He?" cried the serf stupefied. "Saved?"</p> + +<p>"Silence!" said Jocelyn, pointing to Aveline. "Such news +may prove fatal if too suddenly conveyed."</p> + +<p>"Where is he? Where did he take refuge?"</p> + +<p>"Adam is bringing him hither.... He can hardly stand.... I +came ahead of them.... He is weeping incessantly.... We +came across the field.... The curfew +has sounded. We met nobody. Poor Mazurec is saved—"</p> + +<p>"I shall go out to meet him," said Caillet, panting with emotion. +"Poor Mazurec! Dear son! Dear child!"</p> + +<p>Jocelyn approached Aveline, who, with her arms around Alison's +neck was sobbing bitterly. "Aveline," said Jocelyn to +her, "listen to me, please. Have courage and confidence—"</p> + +<p>"He is dead," murmured Aveline moaning and not heeding +Jocelyn. "They have drowned him."</p> + +<p>"No ... he is not dead," Jocelyn went on saying. +"There is hope of saving him."</p> + +<p>"Good God!" cried Alison, now weeping with joy and embracing +Aveline in a transport of happiness. "Do you hear, dear +little one? He is not dead."</p> + +<p>Aveline joined her hands and essayed to speak, but the words +died away on her lips that trembled convulsively.</p> + +<p>"This is what happened," explained Jocelyn. "Mazurec was +put into a bag and he was thrown into the water. Fortunately,<a name="page_066" id="page_066"></a> +however," Jocelyn hastened to add, seeing Aveline utter a smothered +cry, "Adam the Devil and myself, profiting by the darkness, +had hidden ourselves among the reeds that border the bank of +the river about a hundred paces from the bridge. The current +was toward us. With the aid of a long pole we sought to drag +towards us the bag in which Mazurec was tied up, and to pull him +out in time."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" stammered the young girl. "Help came too late."</p> + +<p>"No, no! Calm yourself. We succeeded in drawing the bag +to the bank. Adam cut it open with one rip of his knife, and +we took Mazurec out of the canvas still breathing."</p> + +<p>"He lives!" exclaimed the girl in a delirium of joy. Her first +movement was to precipitate herself towards the door, and +there she fell in the arms of her father, who, having just returned, +stood on the threshold.</p> + +<p>"Yes, he lives!" said Caillet to his daughter, closing her to his +breast. "He lives ... and he is here!"</p> + +<p>That same instant Mazurec appeared at the threshold, pale, +faint, dripping water, his face unrecognizable, and supported +by Adam the Devil. Instead of running to the encounter of her +husband, Aveline staggered back frightened and cried: "It is +not he!"</p> + +<p>She did not recognize Mazurec. His crushed eye, encircled +with black and blue concussions, his crushed nose, his lips split +and swollen, so completely changed his once sweet and attractive +features, that the hesitation of the vassal's wife lasted several +seconds; but soon recovered from her painful surprise, she threw +herself at the neck of Mazurec, and kissed his wounds with +frantic excitement.</p> + +<p>Mazurec returned the embrace of his wife and murmured +sadly: "Oh, poor wife ... although I still live, yet you +are a widow."</p> + +<p>These words, reminding as they did the young couple that they +were forever separated by the infamous outrage that Aveline +had been the victim of and that might mean maternity to her,<a name="page_067" id="page_067"></a> +caused them both to break forth into a flood of tears that flowed +while they remained closely locked in a gloomy and mute embrace.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" exclaimed William Caillet, even whose harsh features +were now moistened with tears at the sight of the ill-starred +couple, "to avenge them.... How much blood.... +Oh! how much blood.... What conflagrations ... what +massacres ... the reprisals must be terrible."</p> + +<p>"That seigniorial race must be strangled out of existence," +put in Adam the Devil, biting his nails with suppressed rage. +"They must be extirpated ... they must be killed off +... all of them ... even the whelps in the cradle +... not a vestige of the seigniory must be left in existence." +And turning to Jocelyn, the peasant added with savage reproach: +"And you, you tell us to be patient—"</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered Jocelyn, interrupting him; "yes, patience, if +you wish on one day to avenge the millions of slaves, serfs and +villeins of our race, who for centuries have been dying, crushed +down, tortured and massacred by the seigneurs. Yes, patience, +if you desire that your vengeance be fruitful and accomplish +the deliverance of your brothers! To that end I conjure you, +and you, Caillet, also—no partial revolts! Let all the serfs +of Gaul rise simultaneously, on one day, at the same signal. +The seigniorial race will not see the morrow of that day."</p> + +<p>"To wait," replied Adam the Devil, scowling with impatience; +"always to wait!"</p> + +<p>"And when will the signal of revolt come?" asked Caillet. +"Whence is it to come? Answer me that!"</p> + +<p>"It will come from Paris, the city of revolts and of popular +uprisings," answered Jocelyn; "and that will be within shortly."</p> + +<p>"From Paris," exclaimed the two peasants in a voice expressive +of astonishment and doubt. "What! Those Parisians ... +will they be ready to revolt?"</p> + +<p>"Like you, the Parisians are tired of the outrages and exactions +of the seigneurs; like you, the Parisians are tired of the<a name="page_068" id="page_068"></a> +thieveries of King John and his court, both of whom ruin and +starve the country; like you, they are tired of the cowardice +of the nobility, the only armed force in the country, and that, +nevertheless, allows Gaul to be ravaged by the English; finally, +the Parisians are tired of praying and remonstrating with the +King to obtain from him the reform of execrable abuses. The +Parisians are, therefore, decided to appeal to arms against the +royalty. The rupture of the truce with the English, just announced +by the royal messenger, will undoubtedly hasten the +hour of revolt. However, until that solemn hour shall sound, +patience, or all is lost."</p> + +<p>"And these Parisians," replied Caillet with redoubled attention, +"who directs them? Have they a leader?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered Jocelyn with enthusiasm, "a most courageous, +wise and good man. He is an honor to our country!"</p> + +<p>"And his name?"</p> + +<p>"Etienne Marcel, a bourgeois, a draper, and provost of the +councilmen of Paris. The whole people are with him because +he aims at the welfare and the enfranchisement of the people. +A large number of the bourgeois of the communal towns, that +have fallen back into the royal power and who are ready to rise, +are in touch with Marcel. But he realizes that the bourgeois +and artisans would be guilty of a wicked act if they did not +offer their advice and help to the serfs of the country and aid +them also to break the yoke of the seigneurs. By acting in concert—serfs, +artisans and bourgeois—we could easily prevail over +the seigneurs and the royal house. Count ourselves; count our +oppressors. How many are they? A few thousand at the most, +while we are millions!"</p> + +<p>"That's true," said Caillet, exchanging looks of approval with +Adam. "The towns and the country combined, that's the world! +The seigneurs and their clergy are insignificant."</p> + +<p>"I came to this place," proceeded Jocelyn, "by the advice of +Etienne Marcel, calculating that, as a rule, tourneys attract a +large number of vassals. I was to ascertain whether the sentiment<a name="page_069" id="page_069"></a> +of rebellion existed in this province as it did in others. +I have no longer any doubt on the subject. I have met you, +William and Adam, and no longer ago than this afternoon I +have seen, much as I regretted the partial and hasty movement, +that Jacques Bonhomme, tired of his burden of shame, +misery and sufferings, is ripe for action. I shall now return +to Paris with a heart full of hope. Therefore, patience! +Friends, patience! Soon will be the hour of reprisals sound, +the hour of inexorable justice. Then, death to our oppressors!"</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered Caillet; "we shall settle the accounts of our +ancestors ... and I shall settle the accounts of my daughter.... +Do you see my child? Do you?" and the old +peasant pointed to Aveline who sat near Mazurec. Overcome +with sorrow, mute, their eyes fixed on the floor and holding +each other's hands the smitten couple presented a picture of unutterable +woe.</p> + +<p>"But coming to think of it," said Jocelyn. "Mazurec cannot +remain in this territory."</p> + +<p>"I have thought of that," rejoined Caillet. "To-night I shall +return to Cramoisy with my daughter and her husband. I know +a grotto in the thickest part of the forest. The hiding-place +was long of service to Adam. I shall take Mazurec thither. +Every night my daughter will take to him a share of our pittance. +The poor child feels so desolate that to separate her entirely +from her husband would be to kill her. He shall remain +in hiding until the day of vengeance shall have arrived. You +may rely on me, upon Adam and upon many others."</p> + +<p>"But who will give the signal at which the towns and country +folks are to rise?" asked Adam the Devil.</p> + +<p>"Paris," responded Jocelyn. "Before long I shall have +moneys brought to you, or I may bring them myself, with which +to purchase arms. Be careful not to awaken the suspicions of the +seigneurs. Buy your arms one by one in town ... at fairs, +and hide them at home. If you know any safe blacksmiths, get +<a name="page_070" id="page_070"></a>them to turn out pikes ... town money will furnish you +with iron ... and with iron you will be able to purchase +revenge and freedom. Who has iron has bread!"</p> + +<p>A prolonged neighing just outside the door interrupted the +conversation. "It is Phoebus, my horse," cried Jocelyn, agreeably +reminded that he had left the animal tied close to the tourney. +"He must have grown tired of waiting for me, must have +snapped the strap and returned to the tavern after me, where, +however, he has been only once before. Brave Phoebus," Jocelyn +added, proceeding to the door. "This is not the first proof +of intelligence that he has given me." Hardly had Jocelyn +opened the upper part of the door than the head of Phoebus appeared; +the animal neighed anew and licked the hands of his +master, who said to him: "Good friend, you shall have a good +supply of oats, and then we shall take the road."</p> + +<p>"What, Sir, you intend to depart this very night?" asked +Alison the Huffy, drying her tears that had not ceased to flow +since the return of Mazurec. "Do you mean to depart, despite +the dark and the rain? Remain with us at least until to-morrow +morning."</p> + +<p>"The royal messenger has brought tidings that hasten my return +to Paris, my pretty hostess. Keep a corner for me in your +heart, and ... we shall meet again. I expect to be soon +back in Nointel."</p> + +<p>"Before leaving us, Sir champion," insisted Alison, rummaging +in her pocket, "take these three franks. I owe them to +you for having won my case."</p> + +<p>"Your case?... I have not yet pleaded it!"</p> + +<p>"You have gained my case without pleading it."</p> + +<p>"How is that?"</p> + +<p>"This forenoon, when you returned for your horse to ride +to the tourney, Simon the Hirsute came out of his house as you +passed by. 'Neighbor,' said I to him, 'I have not until now been +able to find a champion. I now have one.' 'And where is that +valiant champion?' answered Simon sneering. 'There,' said I, +'do you see him? It is that tall young man riding yonder on<a name="page_071" id="page_071"></a> +the bay horse.' Simon then ran after you, and after a careful +inspection that took you in from head to foot, he came back +crestfallen and said to me: 'Here, neighbor, I give you three +florins, and let's be quits.' 'No, neighbor, you shall return to +me my twelve florins, or you will have to settle with my champion, +if not to-day, to-morrow.' A quarter of an hour later, +Simon the Hirsute, who had now turned sweet as honey, brought +me my twelve florins. Here are the three promised to you, Sir +champion."</p> + +<p>"I have not pleaded, and have nothing coming to me from +you, my pretty hostess, except a kiss which you will let me have +when you hold my stirrup."</p> + +<p>"Oh, what a large heart you have, Sir champion!" cordially +answered Alison. "One embraces his friends, and I am certain +you now entertain some affection for me."</p> + +<p>After Phoebus had eaten his fill and Jocelyn had thrown +a thick traveling cloak over his armor, he returned to the room. +Approaching Mazurec he said to him with deep emotion: +"Courage and patience ... embrace me ... I know +not why, but I feel an interest in you beside that which your +misfortunes awaken ... I shall ere long have clarified +my doubts"; and, then addressing Aveline: "Good-bye, +poor child; your hopes are shattered; but at least the companion +of your sorrows has been saved to you. Often will your tears +mingle with his and they will seem less bitter"; turning finally +to Caillet and Adam the Devil, whose horny hands he pressed in +his own: "Good-bye, brothers ... remember your promises; +I shall not forget mine; let us know how to wait for the +great day of reprisal."</p> + +<p>"To see that day and avenge my daughter, to exterminate the +nobles and their tonsured helpers, is all I desire," answered +Caillet; "after that I shall be ready to die."</p> + +<p>After planting a cordial kiss on the red lips of Alison, who<a name="page_072" id="page_072"></a> +was holding his stirrup, and two on her rosy cheeks, Jocelyn the +Champion bounded on his horse, and despite the rain and the +thick darkness, hastily resumed the road to Paris.</p> + +<p>"Happy trip and speedy return!" cried out Alison after him.<a name="page_073" id="page_073"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="PART_II" id="PART_II"></a>PART II.<br /><br /> +THE REGENCY OF NORMANDY</h2> + +<p><a name="page_074" id="page_074"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_I-b" id="CHAPTER_I-b"></a>CHAPTER I.<br /><br /> +THE STATES GENERAL.</h3> + +<p>The Frankish conquerors of Gaul founded about a thousand +years before the date of this narrative the first dynasty that +reigned in the land. Clovis, the first of the kings, established +and his successor followed the custom of almost yearly convoking +their leudes, or chiefs of bands, to gatherings that they named +Fields of May. At these assemblies, from which the Celtic or +conquered people were wholly excluded and to which only the +warrior ruler class was admitted, the Frankish chiefs or feudal +lords deliberated with their supreme sovereign, the king, in +their own or Germanic tongue upon new martial enterprises; +or upon new imposts to be laid upon the subjected race. It was +at these Fields of May that later, during the usurpatory dominion +of the stewards of the palace, the do-nothing kings, those +last scions of Clovis, unnerved and degenerate beings, appeared +once a year with artificial beards as the grotesque and hollow +effigies of royalty. These assemblies were continued under the +reign of Charles the Great and the Carlovingian kings—the +dynasty that in 752 succeeded that of Clovis. The bishops, accomplices +of the conquerors, joined in these assemblies, where, accordingly, +only the nobility, that is, the conquerors, and the +clergy had seats. Under Hugh Capet and his descendants, the +dynasty of the Capets, which succeeded that of the Carlovingians +in 987, continued the practice of the Fields of May, but under +a different name. At irregular intervals they held in their domains +Courts or Parliaments—assemblies composed of seigneurs +and prelates, but from which the newly shaping class of bourgeois +or townsmen was excluded, along with the artisans and +serfs, essentially as was the case under the previous dynasties.<a name="page_075" id="page_075"></a> +These assemblies represented exclusively the interests of the +ruling class and its accomplices.</p> + +<p>Towards the close of 1290, the legists or lawyers, a new class +of plebeian origin, began to enter the parliaments. The royal +power, that had reared its head upon the ruins of the independence +of the feudal lords, grew ever more oppressive and absolute, +and the functions of the parliaments were by degrees restricted +to servilely registering and promulgating the royal ordinances, +instead of remaining what they originally were, free gatherings +where kings, seigneurs and prelates deliberated as peers upon +the affairs of the State—that is to say, their own private interests, +to the exclusion of those of the people. In course of time, +despite these registrations, neither law nor ordinance was carried +out, and the government became wholly autocratic. Then came +a turn. The spirit of liberty breathed over Gaul, and a species +of general insurrection broke out against the crown. The townsmen, +entrenched in their towns, the seigneurs in their castles, +the bishops in their dioceses, reused to pay the imposts decreed +at the royal pleasure. Thus Philip the Fair, in the early part +of the eleventh century, was unable to enforce the ordinance +that levied a fifth of all incomes. Although the decree was +registered by parliament, the officers of the King were met with +swords, sticks and showers of stones in Paris, Orleans and other +places, and remained unable to fetch the money to the royal +treasury. At that juncture Enguerrand de Marigny, an able +minister, who was later hanged, said to Philip the Fair: "Fair +Sire, you are not the strongest; therefore, instead of ordering, +request, pray, entreat, if necessary. To that end convoke a national +assembly, States General, composed of prelates, seigneurs +and bourgeois or townsmen, jointly deputed. In our days, fair +Sire, we must reckon with the townsmen, that bourgeois class +that has succeeded in emancipating itself. To that national +assembly submit gently, mildly and frankly the needs that press +you. If you do, there is a good chance of your wishes being met."</p> + +<p>The advice was wise. Philip the Fair followed it. Thus it<a name="page_076" id="page_076"></a> +came about that for the first time since nine centuries, and +thanks to the communal insurrections, the bourgeois—those +plebeians who represented the subjugated class—took their seats +in the national assembly beside the seigneurs, who represented +the oppressors, and the bishops, their accomplices. Before these +States General, that thus came into existence, the king now +appeared in humble posture, affecting poverty and good will, +and obtained the levies of men and subsidies that he needed. +After Philip the Fair, his descendants, greedy, prodigal and +needy, convoked a national assembly whenever they required a +new levy of taxes or of men. The bourgeois deputies ever appeared +at these assemblies in a defiant mood. They never were +convoked except to exact gold and the blood of their race from +them. To exact is the correct term. Vain it was for the bourgeois +deputies to refuse, as they did, the levies of men and +moneys that seemed to them unjust. Their refusal was annulled, +and the method of annulment was this: The States General consisted +of three estates—the nobility, the clergy and the bourgeoisie—each +being represented by an equal number of deputies. +Accordingly, the bourgeoisie was out-voted by the combined +estates of the nobility and the clergy, both of which were ever +found anxious to meet the royal wishes on the head of taxation.</p> + +<p>The reason was plain. The prelates and seigneurs, being +exempt of taxation in virtue of the privileges of the nobility of +the one and the alleged sanctity of the other, and sharing, thanks +to the prodigalities of the kings, in the taxes levied on the +bourgeoisie, granted with gladsome hearts all the levies for money +that the crown ever requested.</p> + +<p>Thus stood things at the beginning of the reign of John II. +Though the position of the people continued to be grievous, yet +marked progress had been made.<a name="page_077" id="page_077"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_II-b" id="CHAPTER_II-b"></a>CHAPTER II.<br /><br /> +ETIENNE MARCEL.</h3> + +<p>The hopeless minority in which the bourgeoisie found itself +in the States General rendered its participation in government +a fiction. It remained for a great man and the proper juncture +in order to turn the fiction into a reality. The juncture set in +during the year 1355, when King John II found his treasury +empty through his ruinous prodigalities, and Gaul in flames +through the pretensions of the King of England to the ownership +of the country and his efforts to reconquer it, while in the south +Charles the Wicked, King of Navarre, whom John II. had given +his daughter in marriage, was arms in hand, capturing several +provinces to which he laid claim as part of his wife's dower. The +man of the occasion arose in Etienne Marcel.</p> + +<p>With the country torn up by war and his treasury bankrupt, +John II convoked the States General. He needed stout levies +of men and stouter levies of money. The Archbishop of Rouen, +then the royal chancellor, haughtily presented the King's demands. +But the imperious chancellor had counted without +Etienne Marcel, one of the greatest men who ever added luster +to the name of Gaul. The great commoner, deputed to the +States General by the city of Paris and indignant at seeing the +nobility and clergy disregard the just protests of the deputies +of the bourgeoisie, thundered against the odious practice, and, +sustained by the menacing attitude of the Parisians, he uttered +the memorable declaration that <i>the alliance of the nobility and +the clergy was no longer to be of controlling force upon the deputies +of the bourgeoisie</i>, and that if, contrary to the vote of the +bourgeoisie, the seigneurs and prelates granted levies of men and +moneys to the King without any guarantee as to the proper employment<a name="page_078" id="page_078"></a> +of such forces and funds for the public welfare, the +towns would have to refuse obedience to such decrees and furnish +neither men nor moneys to the crown.</p> + +<p>These energetic and wise words, never heard before, imposed +upon the States General. In the name of the deputies of the +bourgeoisie, Marcel submits to the crown the conditions under +which the third estate would consent to grant the men and subsidies +asked for; and the crown accepts, knowing the people +of Paris stood ready to sustain their spokesman. Unfortunately, +and the experience was to be more than once made by Marcel, +he soon realized the hollowness of royal promises. The moneys +granted by the national assembly are insanely dissipated by the +King and his courtiers. The levies of men, instead of being +employed against the English, whose invasion spread over wider +areas of the national territory, are turned to the private wars +of the King against some of the seigneurs, and intended either +to protect or enlarge his own domains. The audacity of the English +redoubles; they break the truce and threaten the very heart +of the land; and King John then hastily summons his faithful +and well-beloved nobility to join him in the defence of the nation.</p> + +<p>The reception given to the royal herald by the valiant jousters, +warm from the passage of arms at the tourney of Nointel, has +been narrated. Nevertheless, with good or ill will, the majority +of the gallants, all of whom were made to fear for their own +estates by the foreign invasion, dragged their vassals after them, +and joined John II near Poitiers. At the first charge of the +English archers the brilliant gathering of knights turn their +horses' heads, ply their spurs, cowardly take to flight, and leave +the poor people that they had compelled to follow them at the +mercy of the invader who falls upon them and ruthlessly puts +them to the sword. King John himself remains a prisoner on +the field, while his son Charles, Duke of Normandy, a stripling +barely twenty years of age, escapes with his brothers the disgraceful +defeat of his father only by riding full tilt to Paris,<a name="page_079" id="page_079"></a> +where, in his capacity of Regent, he convokes the States General +for the purpose of obtaining fresh sums to ransom the +seigneurs who remained in the hands of the enemy.</p> + +<p>Without Etienne Marcel, the draper, Gaul would have been +lost; but the ascendancy of his genius and patriotism dominated +the assembly. In answer to the chancellor, who conveyed the +demands of the Regent, Marcel declared that before attending +to the ransom of the King and knights, the nation's safety demanded +attention. The nation's safety demanded urgent and +radical reforms. He recited them. And, losing sight of nothing, +but developing superhuman activity, he caused Paris to be +protected with new fortifications in order to render the town +safe from the English who had advanced as far as St. Cloud. +He armed the people; organized the street police; made provisions +for food by large importations of grains; calmed and +reassured the alarmed spirits; by his example imparted a similar +temper to the other towns; and, faithful in the midst of all other +cares to the plan of reform that he had pursued and ripened +during the long years of his obscure and industrious life, he +caused the appointment of a committee of twenty-four bourgeois +deputies charged with the drafting of the reforms that were +to be demanded from the Regent. The deputies of the nobility +and the clergy withdrew disdainfully from the national assembly, +shocked at the audacity of the bourgeois legislators. These, +however, masters of the situation and laboring under the high +inspiration of Etienne Marcel, drew up a plan of reforms that +in itself meant an immense revolution. It was the republican +government of the ancient communes of Gaul, now extended beyond +the confines of the town and made to cover the entire +nation; it was the substitution of the power of deputies elected +by the whole country for the absolute power of the crown. +The King becomes merely the chief agent of the States General, +and he has no power without their sovereign consent to dispose +of a single man, or a single florin. These reforms, the fruit +of many vigils on the part of Etienne Marcel, were accepted and<a name="page_080" id="page_080"></a> +solemnly sworn to by Charles, Duke of Normandy, in the capacity +of Regent for his father, then a prisoner in the English camp, +and they were promulgated in the principal towns of Gaul with +the sound of trumpets, under the title of "Royal Ordinance of +the 17th day of January, 1357." The ordinance was as follows:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>The States General shall henceforth meet whenever they may think +fit and without requiring the consent of the King, to deliberate upon +the government of the kingdom, and the vote of the nobility and clergy +shall have no binding power over the deputies of the communes.</p> + +<p>The members of the States General shall be under the protection of +the king, the Duke of Normandy and their successors. And, furthermore, +members of the States General shall be free to travel throughout +the kingdom with an armed escort that shall be charged with causing +them to be respected.</p> + +<p>The moneys proceeding from the subsidies granted by the States +General shall be levied and distributed, not by royal officers, but by deputies +elected by the States General; and they shall swear to resist all +orders of the King and his ministers, in case the King or his ministers +wish to turn the moneys to other expenses than those provided for by +the States General.</p> + +<p>The King shall grant no pardon for murder, rape, abduction or infringement +of truce.</p> + +<p>The offices of justice shall not be sold or farmed out.</p> + +<p>The costs of processes, inquests and administration in the chambers +of parliament and of accounts shall be lowered, and the officials of those +departments who may refuse, shall be expelled as extortionists of the +public fund.</p> + +<p>All seizures of food, clothing or money in the name and for the service +of the King or of his family shall be forbidden; and power is given +to the inhabitants to gather at the call of their town bell and to pursue +the seizers.</p> + +<p>To the end of avoiding all monopoly and extortion, no officer of the +King shall be allowed to carry on any trade in merchandise or money.</p> + +<p>The expenses of the household of the King, the Dauphin and of the +princes shall be moderated and reduced to reasonable bounds by the +States General; and the stewards of the royal households shall be obliged +to pay for what they buy.</p> + +<p>Finally, the King, the Dauphin, the princes, the nobility, the prelates +of whatever rank, shall bear the burden of taxation the same as all other +citizens, as justice requires.</p></div> + +<p>Compared with the Fields of May of olden days, where the +conquering Franks and their bishops disposed of the people<a name="page_081" id="page_081"></a> +of Gaul like cattle, the national assemblies, held under the ordinance +that Etienne Marcel had wrung from the crown—assemblies +dominated by the industrious class which by its labor, +commerce, trades and arts enriched the country while the royalty, +nobility and clergy devoured it—the progress was gigantic.</p> + +<p>No less distinguished were the services of Etienne Marcel +at this juncture against the foreign invader, who was advancing +with rapid marches upon the capital of the land. Paris, originally +circumscribed to the island that is washed by the two arms +of the Seine, extended itself from century to century beyond its +original cradle to the right and to the left, until under the reign +of John II it had grown to a town of large proportions. The +old part of the city, that which is bounded by the two arms +of the river, continued at this time to be called the Cité and +served as the headquarters of the clergy, whose houses seemed +to cuddle under the shadow of the high towers of the tall church +of Notre Dame. The Bishop of Paris had almost the entire Cité +for his jurisdiction. On the right bank of the Seine and at +the place where rose the thick tower of the gate of the Louvre, +began the fortified premises of what was generally called the +town. It was peopled with merchants, artisans and bourgeois, +and it contained the square at one end of which stood the pillory, +where malefactors were exposed or executed before taking their +corpses to the gibbets of Montfaucon. The girdle of fortresses +that surround Paris to the north extends from the thick tower +of the Louvre to the gate of S. Honoré. From there, the wall +winding towards the Coquiller gate, reaches the gate of Mont +Martre, makes a curve near St. Denis street, continues in the +direction of the gate of St. Antoine, and arrives at the Barbette +gate, which is flanked by the large tower of Billy, built +on the borders of the Seine opposite Notre Dame and the isle of +Cows. The girdle of the ramparts, interrupted at this spot by +the river, is resumed on the left bank. It skirts the quarter +of the University, which is inhabited by the students and which +has for its issues the gates of St. Vincent, St. Marcel, St. Genevieve,<a name="page_082" id="page_082"></a> +St. James and St. Germain. Thence it flanks the palace +of Nesle and runs out into the tower of Philip-Hamelin, built on +the left bank opposite the tower of the Louvre, which rises on +the right bank. This vast enclosure which insured the defense +of Paris was completed by arduous labors of fortification due to +the genius and the prodigious activity of Etienne Marcel. He +caused the ramparts to be equipped with numerous engines of +war of the new kind that then began to come in vogue named +<i>cannons</i>—tubes made of bars of iron held fast by rings of the +same metal. By means of a powder recently invented by a German +monk, these cannons expelled stone and iron balls with what +was then considered marvelous velocity, force and noise, and to a +then equally marvelous distance. Without those immense works, +all of which were executed within three months, the capital +of Gaul would have inevitably fallen into the hands of the English.<a name="page_083" id="page_083"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_III-b" id="CHAPTER_III-b"></a>CHAPTER III.<br /><br /> +THE MAN OF THE FURRED CAP.</h3> + +<p>Many weeks had elapsed since the night when Jocelyn the +Champion rode back to Paris from the little village of Nointel. +A man wearing a woolen cap, clad in an old blouse of grey +material, carrying a knapsack on his back and a heavy stick +in his hand entered Paris by the gate of St. Denis. It was +William Caillet, the father of Aveline-who-never-lied. The old +peasant looked even somberer than when last seen at Nointel. +His hollow and fiery eyes, his sunken cheeks, his bitter smile—all +betokened a profound and concentrated sorrow. This, however, +yielded presently to astonishment at the tumultuous aspect +of the streets of Paris, where he now found himself for the first +time in his life. The multitude of busy people wearing different +costumes, the horses, carriages, litters that crossed in all directions, +gave the rustic a feeling akin to vertigo, while his ears +rung with the deafening cries incessantly uttered by the merchants +and their apprentices, who, standing at the doors of +their shops solicited customers. "Hot stoves! Hot baths!" +cried the keepers of bathing houses; "Fresh and warm cakes!" +cried the pastry venders; "Fresh wine, just arrived from Argenteuil +and Suresne!" cried a tavern-keeper armed with a large +pewter tumbler, and with looks and gestures inviting the topers +to drink; "Whose coat needs mending?" asked the tailor; "The +oven is warm, who wants to have his bread baked?" vociferated a +baker; further off a royal edict was being proclaimed, announced +by drum and trumpet; in among the crowd several monks, +collectors for a brotherhood, held out their purses and cried: +"Give for the ransom of the souls in purgatory!" while beggars, +exhibiting their real or assumed deformities exclaimed: "Give<a name="page_084" id="page_084"></a> +to the poor, for the love of God!" Before venturing further into +Paris, William Caillet sat down on a stone step placed near a +door meaning both to rest himself and to accustom his eyes +and ears to a noise that was so utterly new to him.</p> + +<p>Presently a distant rumbling, proceeding from Mauconseil +street, almost drowned the cross-fire of cries. At intervals the +roll of drums and mournful clarion notes mingled with the approaching +and rumbling din, and soon Caillet heard repeated +from mouth to mouth in accents at once sorrowful and angry: +"That's the funeral of the poor Perrin Macé." All the passers-by +started, and a great number of merchants and apprentices left +their shops in charge of the women behind the counters, and ran +towards Mauconseil and Oysters-are-fried-here streets, where the +funeral procession was to pass after traversing St. Denis street.</p> + +<p>Struck by the eagerness of the Parisians to witness the funeral, +which seemed to be a matter of public mourning, Caillet followed +the crowd, whose confluence from several other streets soon became +considerable. Accident threw him near a student of the +University of Paris. The young man, about twenty years of +age, was named Rufin the Tankard-smasher, a nickname that was +borne out by the jovial and convivial mien of the strapping +youngster. He had on his head a crazy felt hat that age had +rendered yellow, and he wore a black coat no less patched up +than his hose. He looked as threadbare as ever did a Paris +student. Held back by his rustic timidity, Caillet did not venture +to open a conversation with Rufin the Tankard-smasher, +notwithstanding several remarks dropped by the crowd around +him and by the student himself increased the rustic's curiosity +in the young man.</p> + +<p>"Poor Perrin Macé!" said a Parisian, "To have his hand +cut off and then be hanged without trial! And all because +it so pleased the Regent and his courtiers!"</p> + +<p>"That's the way the court respects the famous ordinance of our +Marcel!"<a name="page_085" id="page_085"></a></p> + +<p>"Oh, this nobility!... It is the pest and ruination of +the country!... It and its clergy!"</p> + +<p>"The nobles!" cried Rufin the Tankard-smasher; "they are +merely caparisoned and plumed parade horses; good to prance +and not to carry or draw. The moment they are called to do +work, they rear and kick!"</p> + +<p>"And yet, master student," ventured a large sized man with +a furred cap, "the noble knighthood deserves our respect."</p> + +<p>"The knighthood!" cried Rufin, laughing contemptuously, +"the knighthood is good only to figure in tourneys, attracted +by the lure of profit. The horse and arms of the vanquished belong +to the vanquisher. By Jupiter! Those doughty chaps seek +to throw down their adversaries just as we students seek to knock +down the nine-pins at a bowling game on the college grounds. +But so soon as their skins are in danger in battle, where there +is no profit to be fetched other than blows, that same nobility +shamefully takes to flight, as happened at the battle of Poitiers, +where it gave the signal for run-who-run-can to an army of forty +thousand men pitted against only eight thousand English +archers! By the bowels of the Pope! Your nobles are not men, +they are hares!"</p> + +<p>"Come, now, master student," laughingly put in another +townsman; "let us not be too hard upon the nobility; did it not +rid us of King John by leaving him a prisoner in the hands of the +English?"</p> + +<p>"Yes!" exclaimed another, "but we shall have to pay the royal +ransom, and in the meantime must submit to the government +of the Regent, a stripling of twenty years, who orders people to +be hanged when they demand the moneys owing to them by the +royal treasury, and object when we strike them, as did Perrin +Macé."</p> + +<p>"With the aid of heaven, our friend Marcel will soon put a +stop to that sort of thing."</p> + +<p>"Marcel is the providence of Paris."</p> + +<p>"Friends," resumed the man of the furred cap, smiling disdainfully,<a name="page_086" id="page_086"></a> +"you seem to have nothing but the name of Marcel +in your mouths. Although Master Marcel is a provost and president +of the town council, yet he is not everything on earth. +The other councilmen are his superiors in trade. Take, for instance, +John Maillart, there you have a worthy townsman—"</p> + +<p>"Who is it dare compare others with the great Marcel!" cried +Rufin the Tankard-smasher. "By Jupiter, whoever utters such +foolishness quacks like a goose!"</p> + +<p>"Hm! Hm!" grumbled the man of the furred cap; "I said +so!"</p> + +<p>"Then it is you who quack like a goose!" promptly replied +the Tankard-smasher. "What! You dare maintain that Marcel +is not the foremost townsman! He, the friend of the people!"</p> + +<p>"Aye, aye!" came from the crowd. "Marcel is our saviour. +Without him Paris would by this time have been taken and +sacked by the English!"</p> + +<p>"Marcel," resumed the Tankard-smasher with increasing enthusiasm, +"he who restored economy in our finances, order and +security in the city! By the bowels of the Pope! I know something +about that! Only a fortnight ago, towards midnight, I +with my chum Nicolas the Thin-skinned were beating at the door +of a public house on Trace-Pute street. The woman of the house +refused us admission, pretending that the girls we were looking +for were not in. Thereat I and my friend came near breaking +in the door. At that a platoon of cross-bowmen, organized by +Marcel to maintain order in the streets, happens to go by, and +they arrest and lodge both of us at the Chatelet, despite our +privileges as students of the Paris University!... Now +dare say that Marcel does not keep order in town!"</p> + +<p>"That may all be," answered the man of the furred cap; "but +any other councilman would have done as much; and Master +John Maillart—"</p> + +<p>"John Maillart!" exclaimed Rufin. "By the bowels of the +Pope! Had he or any other, the King himself, dared to encroach +upon the franchises of the University, the students, rising<a name="page_087" id="page_087"></a> +en masse, would have poured, arms in hands, out of their quarter +of St. Germain and there would have been a battle in Paris. +But what is allowed to Marcel, the idol of Paris, is not allowed +to any other."</p> + +<p>"The student is right!" went up from the crowd. "Marcel +is our idol because he is just, because he protects the interests +of the bourgeois against the court people, of the weak against +the strong. Long live Etienne Marcel!"</p> + +<p>"Without the activity of Marcel, his courage and his foresight, +Paris would have been burned down and deluged in blood +by the English."</p> + +<p>"Did not Marcel also keep our town from starvation, when +he went himself at the head of the militia as far as Corbeil +to protect a cargo of grain that the Navarrais meant to pillage?"</p> + +<p>"I don't deny that," calmly observed the man of the furred +cap with envious insistence. "All I maintain is that, put in the +place of Marcel, Maillart would have done as well."</p> + +<p>"Surely, provided the councilman had the genius of Marcel. +If he had, he surely would have done as well as Marcel!" rejoined +the Tankard-smasher. "If my sweetheart wore a beard, +she would be the lover and somebody else the sweetheart!"</p> + +<p>This sally of the student was received with a universal laughter +of approval. The immense majority of the Parisians entertained +for Marcel as much attachment as admiration.</p> + +<p>Wrapt in his somber silence, William Caillet had listened attentively +to the altercation, and he saw confirmed that which Jocelyn +the Champion had stated to him a short time ago at Nointel concerning +the influence of Marcel upon the Parisian people. By +that time, the roll of drums, the notes of the clarions and the +din of a large multitude had drawn nearer. The procession +turned into Mauconseil in order to cross St. Denis street. A +company of the town's cross-bowmen, commanded by a captain, +marched at the head and opened the way, preceded by the drummers +and clarion blowers, who alternately struck up funeral bars. +Behind the cross-bowmen came the town's heralds, dressed in the<a name="page_088" id="page_088"></a> +town colors, half red and half blue. From time to time the +heralds recited solemnly the following mournful psalmody:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Pray for the soul of Perrin Macé, a bourgeois of Paris, unjustly +executed!</p> + +<p>"John Baillet, the treasurer of the Regent, had borrowed in the +name of the King a sum of money from Perrin Macé.</p> + +<p>"Macé demanded his money in virtue of the new edict that orders the +royal officers to pay for what they buy and return what they borrow for +the King, under penalty of being brought to law by their creditors.</p> + +<p>"John Baillet refused to pay, and furthermore insulted, threatened +and struck Perrin Macé.</p> + +<p>"In the exercise of his right of legitimate defence, granted him by +the new edict, Perrin Macé returned blow for blow, killed John Baillet +and betook himself to the church of St. Méry, a place of asylum, from +where he demanded an inquest and trial.</p> + +<p>"The Duke of Normandy, now Regent, immediately sent one of his +courtiers, the marshal of Normandy, to the church of St. Méry, accompanied +with an escort of soldiers and the executioner.</p> + +<p>"The marshal of Normandy dragged Perrin Macé from the church, +and without trial Macé's right hand was cut off and he was immediately +hanged.</p> + +<p>"Pray for the soul of Perrin Macé, a bourgeois of Paris, unjustly +executed."</p></div> + +<p>Regularly after these sentences, that were alternately recited +by the heralds in a solemn voice, the muffled roll of drums and +plaintive clarion notes resounded, but they hardly served to hush +the imprecations from the crowd, indignant at the Regent and +his court. Behind the heralds followed priests with their crucifixes +and banners, and then, draped in a long black cloth embroidered +in silver, came the coffin of the executed bourgeois, carried +by twelve notables, clad in their long robes and wearing the two-colored +hats of red and blue, such as were worn by almost all the +partisans of the popular cause. The collars of their gowns were +held by silver brooches, likewise enameled in red and blue, and +bearing the inscription "To a happy issue," a device or rallying +cry given by Marcel. Behind the coffin marched the councilmen +of Paris with Etienne Marcel at their head. The obscure bourgeois, +who had stepped out of his draper's shop to become one +of the most illustrious citizens of Gaul, was then in the full maturity<a name="page_089" id="page_089"></a> +of his age. Of middle height and robust, Etienne Marcel +somewhat stooped from his fatigues, seeing that his prodigious +activity of a man of both thought and action left him no repose. +His open, manly and characterful face bore at the chin a thick +tuft of brown beard, leaving his cheeks and lips clean shaven. +The feverish agitation of the man and the incessant cares of +public affairs had furrowed his forehead and left their marks +on his features without, however, in any way affecting the august +serenity that an irreproachable conscience imparts to the physiognomy +of an honorable man. There was nothing benigner or +more affectionate than his smile when under the influence of the +tender sentiments so familiar to his heart. There was nothing +more imposing than his bearing, or more threatening than his +looks when, as powerful an orator as he was a great citizen, +Etienne Marcel thundered with the indignation of an honest and +brave soul against the acts of cowardice and treason and the +crimes of the feudal nobility and the despotic crown. The provost +wore the red and blue head-gear together with the emblazoned +brooch that distinguished the other councilmen. Among +these, John Maillart often during the procession gave his arm +to Marcel, who, fatigued by the long march through the streets +of Paris, cordially accepted the support of one of his oldest +friends. Since youth Marcel had lived in close intimacy with +Maillart, but the latter, ever keeping concealed the enviousness +that the glory of Marcel inspired him with, could not now wholly +repress a bitter smile at the enthusiastic acclaim that saluted +Marcel along the route.</p> + +<p>A woman clad in long mourning robes and whose presence +seemed out of place at such a ceremony marched beside Maillart. +It was his wife, Petronille, still young and passing handsome, +but of atrabilious and harsh mien. Each time that the heralds +finished the mournful psalmody and before they began it anew, +Petronille Maillart would break out into sobs and moans, and +raising and wringing her arms in despair cried out: "Unhappy +Perrin Macé! Vengeance upon his ashes! Vengeance!" The<a name="page_090" id="page_090"></a> +plaintive outcries and the contortions of Madam Maillart seemed, +however, to excite more surprise than interest with the crowd.</p> + +<p>"By Jupiter!" cried Rufin the Tankard-smasher, "what brings +that bellowing woman to this funeral? What makes her demean +herself like that, as if she were possessed? She is neither the +widow nor any relative of Perrin Macé."</p> + +<p>"For that reason her presence is all the more admirable," observed +the man of the furred cap addressing the crowd. "Behold +her, friends! Do you see how her despair testifies the extent to +which she, as well as her husband, share in the terrible fate of +poor Perrin Macé?... You are witnesses, friends, that +Dame Petronille is the only councilman's wife who assists at the +ceremony!"</p> + +<p>"That's true!" said several voices. "Poor, dear woman! She +must feel sadly distracted."</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed. And surely that is not the case with the wife +of Marcel, our first magistrate. She and the others remain +calmly at home, without at all concerning themselves about this +public sorrow," put in the man of the furred cap. "Fail not to +take notice!"</p> + +<p>"By the bowels of the Pope!" cried the Tankard-smasher. +"Marcel's wife acts like a sensible body. She is right not to +come out and exhibit herself and utter shrieks fit to deafen +Beelzebub just when the drums are silent.... The affliction +of that bellowing woman looks to me like a sheet of music, +marked on time. That woman is playing a comedy."</p> + +<p>"You vainly try to pass the matter off as a joke, master student," +rejoined the man of the furred cap. "It will, nevertheless, +be noted that the wife of Maillart assisted at the funeral of +Perrin Macé, and that the wife of Marcel did not. Hm! Hm! +My friends, that gives room for many suspicions; or, rather, it +confirms certain rumors."</p> + +<p>"What suspicions?" asked Rufin; "What rumors? Explain +yourself."</p> + +<p>But without answering the student the man of the furred cap +was lost in the crowd, while continuing to whisper to those that<a name="page_091" id="page_091"></a> +he came in contact with. During this slight incident, the funeral +procession had continued to file by. Notable townsmen, +carrying funeral torches, marched behind the councilmen; they +were followed by the trade guilds, each headed by its banner; +finally the rear was brought up by a long line of people of all +conditions uttering imprecations against the Regent and his +court, and acclaiming Marcel with ever increasing enthusiasm. +Marcel, the crowd declared, would know how to avenge the +fresh and sanguinary court iniquity.</p> + +<p>From mouth to mouth the announcement was carried that, +after the ceremony, Marcel would address the people in the large +hall of the Convent of the Cordeliers. William Caillet silently +assisted at this scene which seemed to impress him deeply. After +a few moments' reflections he overcame his rustic timidity and +drew Rufin the Tankard-smasher aside by the arm just as the +latter was about to walk away. The student turned around, +and yielding to the joviality of his nature as well as purposing to +haze the rustic after the time-honored practice of the University +of Paris, said to him banteringly: "I wager, dear rustic, +that you overheard me speaking of one of my sweethearts! Hein! +I see through you, my sylvan swain! You would like to admire +the town beauties. By the bowels of the Pope! You shall have +your pick—"</p> + +<p>Hurt by the student's banter, William Caillet answered him +gruffly: "I am a stranger in Paris; I come from a great distance—"</p> + +<p>"Oh! You would like to enter the University, would you?" +Rufin interrupted him with redoubled hilarity. "You are somewhat +too bearded for a bachelor; but that does not matter; what +faculty would you choose? theology or medicine? arts, letters or +canonical law?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, these townsmen!" exclaimed the old peasant with pungent +bitterness. "They are no better than the people of the castles. +Go, Jacques Bonhomme, you have enemies everywhere and nowhere +a friend."<a name="page_092" id="page_092"></a></p> + +<p>Saying this, Caillet started to walk away. But touched by the +sad accent of the peasant, Rufin held him back: "Friend, if I +have hurt your feelings, excuse me. We townsmen are not the +enemies of Jacques Bonhomme for the reason that our enemies +are common to us both."</p> + +<p>Ever suspicious, Caillet remained silent and sought to discover +from the face of the student whether his words did not conceal +a trap or implied some fresh ridicule. Rufin surmised the +apprehensions of the serf, examined him once more attentively, +and now struck by the lines of sorrow on his face, said to him: +"May I die like a dog if I am not speaking sincerely to you. +Friend, you seem to have suffered much; you are a stranger; I +am at your disposal! I do not offer you my purse because it +is empty; but I offer you half of the pallet on which I sleep in a +student's room with a chum from my province, and a part of our +meager pittance."</p> + +<p>Now convinced by the frankness of the townsman, the peasant +answered: "I have no time to stay in Paris; I only wish to speak +with Jocelyn the Champion and Marcel; could you help me to +that?"</p> + +<p>"You know Jocelyn the Champion?" Rufin asked with deep interest, +while a cloud of sadness darkened his countenance.</p> + +<p>"Did any misfortune befall him?"</p> + +<p>"He left here to assist at a tourney in Beauvoisis some time +ago, and the poor fellow never returned.... His aged and +infirm father died of grief at the disappearance of his son. +Brave Jocelyn! I entered the University the year before he left +it. He was the best and most courageous lad in the world.... +He must have been killed at the tourney, or assassinated +on his return to Paris. Highwaymen infest the roads."</p> + +<p>"No; he was not killed at the tourney of Nointel. The night +after the passage of arms I saw him take his horse to return to +Paris."</p> + +<p>"Are you from Beauvoisis?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered Caillet; and he added with a sigh: "Well,<a name="page_093" id="page_093"></a> +that young man is dead! Great pity! There are few like him +who love Jacques Bonhomme." After a moment's silence the +peasant resumed: "How can I manage to meet Marcel?"</p> + +<p>"By following me to the convent of the Cordeliers where he is +to address the people after the funeral of Perrin Macé. Come +with me."</p> + +<p>"Go ahead," said Caillet; "I shall follow you."</p> + +<p>"Come, we shall go out by the Coquiller gate; that's the shortest +route."</p> + +<p>The old peasant walked in silence by the side of Rufin who +sought to draw from him some words on the subject of his trip. +But the serf remained impenetrable. Going out by the gate of +St. Denis and following the streets of the suburbs, that were much +less crowded than those of the city, Caillet and his guide had just +left Traversine to enter Montmartre street when they heard the +distant funeral chant of priests interspersed from time to time +with plaintive clarion notes. The peasant noticed with surprise +that as the chant drew nearer the residents along the streets +closed and bolted their doors.</p> + +<p>"By the bowels of the Pope!" exclaimed the student. "Accident +is serving us well. You have seen honors paid to the remains +of Perrin Macé by the officials and the people; you will +now see the honors paid to John Baillet, the cause of the iniquity +that Paris is feeling indignant about. Yes, Baillet's remains +are honored by the Regent and his court. Come quick; the procession +is probably going to the convent of the Augustian monks." +Hastening his steps and followed by the peasant, the student +reached the corner of Montmartre and Quoque-Heron streets, +opposite which stood the convent, whose doors opened to receive +the coffin. "Look," said the student turning to Caillet. "How +significant is not the contrast presented by these two funerals. +At Perrin Macé's a large concourse of people were present, serious +and moved with just indignation; at John Baillet's nobody +assists but the Regent, the princes, his brothers, the courtiers and +the officers of the royal household—not one representative of the<a name="page_094" id="page_094"></a> +people! The townsmen leave a deep void around this royal +demonstration which is indulged in as a sort of challenge to the +popular one. Tell me, friend, does not the very aspect of the two +processions appeal to the eye. At the funeral of Perrin Macé +we saw a great mass composed of bourgeois and artisans plainly +or even poorly dressed; at the funeral of John Baillet we see +only a handful of courtiers and officers brilliantly attired in gold +and silk and velvet, and decked in magnificent uniforms."</p> + +<p>William Caillet listened to the student, seeking to bore through +him with his eyes, and shaking his head answered pensively: +"Jocelyn did not deceive me," and after a pause he proceeded: +"But what are the Parisians still waiting for? We are ready, +and have long been!"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" asked Rufin.</p> + +<p>Immediately relapsing into his former close-mouthedness, the +peasant made no answer. The procession just turned into the +street. The coffin of John Baillet, heavily inlaid with gold and +preceded by royal heralds and sergeants-at-arms was borne by +twelve menials of the Regent in costly livery. The young prince +and his brothers, accompanied by the seigneurs of the court, +alone followed the coffin. Charles, the Duke of Normandy and +now Regent of the French, as the eldest son of King John, at +the time an English prisoner, had, like his brothers and the +French nobility, fled ignominiously from the battlefield of Poitiers. +The young man who now governed Gaul was barely +twenty years of age. He was of frail physique and pale complexion. +His sickly face concealed under a kind and timid +mien a large fund of obstinacy, of perfidy, of wile and of wickedness—odious +vices usually rare in youths, except of royal lineage. +Magnificently dressed in gold-embroidered green velvet, a black +head-gear ornamented with a chain and brooch of costly stones on +his head, the mean-spirited and languishing Regent marched +slowly leaning on a cane. At a short distance behind him advanced +his brothers, and then came the seigneurs of the court, +among them the marshal of Normandy, who, ordered by the<a name="page_095" id="page_095"></a> +young prince, had superintended the mutilation and subsequent +execution of Perrin Macé. The marshal, who was the Sire of +Conflans, one of the Regent's favorites, superb and arrogant, cast +upon the few and straggling spectators disdainful and threatening +looks, and exchanged a few words with the Sire of Charny, +a courtier no less loved by the prince than he was detested by the +people. Suddenly Rufin the Tankard-smasher felt his arm rudely +seized by the vigorous hand of Caillet, who with distended +and flaming eyes, and his breast heaving with pain, gasped out:</p> + +<p>"Look!... There they are!... There are the +two! The Sire of Nointel and that other, the knight of Chaumontel!... Oh, +do you see them both with their scarlet +hats, down there with the tall man in an ermine cloak?" cried +out Caillet despite himself.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes; I see the two seigneurs," answered the student, +astonished at the emotion manifested by the peasant. "But +what makes you tremble so?"</p> + +<p>"Down in the country they are thought dead or prisoners of +the English," exclaimed Caillet. "Fortunately it is not so.... There +they are ... there they are ... I have seen +them with my own eyes!" and contracting his lips with a frightful +smile the serf added raising his two fists to heaven: "Oh, +Mazurec!... Oh, my daughter!... Here I see the +two men at last!... They will return home for the marriage +of the handsome Gloriande.... We've got them!... We've +got them!"</p> + +<p>"The looks of this man make me shiver," thought the student +to himself, gazing at the peasant with stupor, and he proceeded +aloud: "Who are those two seigneurs that you are speaking of?"</p> + +<p>Without heeding Rufin, Caillet proceeded to say: "Oh, now +more than ever am I anxious to see Marcel without delay. I +must speak with the provost!"</p> + +<p>"In that case," the student said to him, "come and rest at my +lodging. In the evening we shall wait upon the provost at the +convent of the Cordeliers. He is to address the people there this<a name="page_096" id="page_096"></a> +evening. But, once more, what is the reason of your excitement +at the sight of those two seigneurs in the Regent's suite?"</p> + +<p>The peasant cast a suspicious side-glance at the student, remained +silent and his face assumed a somberer hue.</p> + +<p>"By the bowels of the Pope!" thought Rufin the Tankard-smasher, +"I have run up against an odd customer; he alternates +between dumbness and riddles. He saddens even me who am not +given to melancholy! He positively frightens even me who am +no poltroon!"</p> + +<p>And accompanied by William Caillet, the student wended his +steps towards the quarter of the University.<a name="page_097" id="page_097"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_IV-b" id="CHAPTER_IV-b"></a>CHAPTER IV.<br /><br /> +THE SERPENT UNDER THE GRASS.</h3> + +<p>Etienne Marcel's house was located near the church of St. +Eustace in the quarter of the market. His shop, filled with +rolls of cloth that were exposed on the shelves, communicated +with a dining room. A staircase ran into this room, leading +to the chambers on the floor above.</p> + +<p>It being night and the shop closed, Marguerite, Marcel's wife, +and Denise her niece, had gone upstairs into one of the chambers +where they took up some sewing which they were busily at by +the light of the lamp. Marguerite was about forty-five years. +She must have been handsome in her younger days. Her face +betokened kindness and was now pensive and grave. Denise +was close to eighteen. Her cheerful face, habitually serene and +candid, seemed this evening profoundly sad. The two women +remained long in silence, each engaged in her work. By degrees, +however, and without raising her head Denise's needle relaxes, +and presently, dropping her hands upon her lap, the tears roll +out of her eyes. Marguerite, no less pre-occupied than her niece, +mechanically raises her eyes towards the young girl, and noticing +her tears, says tenderly:</p> + +<p>"Poor child! I know the cause of your sorrow because I know +the bent of your mind. I would not have you share a hope that +I myself hardly retain. But, after all, although the continued +absence of Jocelyn justifies our fears, we should not despair.... +He may yet return...."</p> + +<p>"No, no," answered Denise, now giving free course to her +tears. "If Jocelyn still lived, he would not have left his aged +father in the uncertainty that hastened his death. If Jocelyn +still lived he would have communicated with my uncle Marcel,<a name="page_098" id="page_098"></a> +whom he loved and venerated like a father. No, no", she exclaimed +amid sobs, "He is dead. I shall never see him again!"</p> + +<p>"My child, it is quite possible that carried away by his imprudent +courage, Jocelyn went to the battle of Poitiers, where he +may have remained in the hands of the English. Prisoners return. +I conjure you, do not yield to despair. I suffer to see you +weep."</p> + +<p>In lieu of answer the young girl rose and walked up to Marguerite, +took her two hands, kissed them and said: "Dear, good +aunt, you brush aside your own sorrows to think of mine, and +you seek to console me.... I am ashamed not to know better +and to repress my sorrow while you bear up so courageously before +Master Marcel and your son!"</p> + +<p>"Truly, Denise, I do not understand you", remarked Marguerite +slightly embarrassed. "My life is so happy, I need no +special courage to bear it—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, oh! Do I not see you daily receive Master Marcel and +your son Andre with a smile on your lips and a serene face, while +your heart is in a storm of anxieties—"</p> + +<p>"You are mistaken, Denise!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, believe me; it is no indiscreet curiosity that guided me +when I sought to penetrate your feelings. It was the desire to +say nothing that might wound your secret thoughts whenever I +am alone with you, as now so often happens good dear aunt."</p> + +<p>"You dear child!" exclaimed Marguerite embracing Denise +with effusion and now making no effort to restrain her own tears. +"How could I fail to be profoundly effected by so much delicacy +and tenderness? How could I fail to respond with unreserved +confidence?" Marguerite stopped but after a last few +moments of hesitancy and making a supreme effort she proceeded: +"'Tis true; you did not deceive yourself. Yes, my life is +now spent amid anxieties and alarms. I thank you for having +drawn the secret from me. I shall now, at least, be able to +weep before you without reserve, and give a loose to my heart. +Having paid that tribute to feebleness, I shall be able all the<a name="page_099" id="page_099"></a> +better to appear serene before my husband and my son! Oh +... I admit it; my only fear is to have them discover that I +suffer! I know Marcel's love for me. It reciprocates mine. If +he knew I was wretched I might cause his own calmness and +fortitude to weaken that never yet have abandoned him and +that he needs now more than ever in these perilous days."</p> + +<p>"Oh, the women who envy you would at this moment pity +you, did they but see and hear you, dear aunt!"</p> + +<p>"Yes", replied Marguerite with bitterness; "the wife of Marcel, +the idol of the people ... of Marcel, the real king of Paris, +is envied. They envy the companion of that great citizen. Oh, +they should rather pity her.... Tender indulgences ... +sweet joys of the hearth, the happiness of the humblest ... +since long I know you no more! The artisan, the merchant, +their day's labors being done, at least enjoy in the bosom of +their families some rest until the morrow. My poor husband, +on the contrary, spends his nights at work ... while I, +his wife, remain a prey to constant uneasiness night and day, +ever fearing for his life or his son's!"</p> + +<p>"You have no reason to tremble for the life of Master Marcel, +who can not take a step without he is surrounded by a crowd of +devoted friends."</p> + +<p>"I fear the Regent's hatred, and that of the nobles and prelates."</p> + +<p>At that moment Agnes the Bigot, Marguerite's confidential +servant, entered the room and said to her mistress: "Madam, +the wife of Master Maillart, the councilman, has come to visit +you."</p> + +<p>"So late! Did you tell her I was home?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, madam."</p> + +<p>Marguerite made a gesture of impatience and annoyance, dried +her tears and said to Denise in an undertone: "You just mentioned +envious women.... Petronille Maillart is of the +number.... Hide your tears, I pray you, to avoid her +drawing wrongful conclusions from our sadness. She is cruelly<a name="page_100" id="page_100"></a> +jealous of the popularity of Marcel; and Maillart, I believe, +shares the feelings of his wife."</p> + +<p>"Can Maillart be jealous of my uncle, the friend of his childhood!"</p> + +<p>"Maillart is a weak man whom his wife dominates."</p> + +<p>"Maillart is always speaking about running to arms, and of +massacring the nobles and priests."</p> + +<p>"Violence is not strength, Denise; the most excited natures +usually are the least firm.... But silence! Here is Petronille.... +What can be the purpose of a visit at this hour?"</p> + +<p>Petronille Maillart entered. She was still in her mourning +garb. From the instant of her entrance she darted an inquisitive +glance at the wife of Marcel and at Denise, and undoubtedly observed +the traces of recent tears, seeing that a smile flitted over +her lips. Affecting great sympathy she said:</p> + +<p>"Excuse me, Dame Marguerite, for coming to your house at +so late an hour; but I wished to speak to you upon serious matters."</p> + +<p>"You are always welcome, Dame Petronille."</p> + +<p>"I fear not, at this moment. Sorrow loves solitude, and I +notice with pain that your eyes and those of your dear niece +are still red with tears. Just heaven! Do you entertain any +fears for our excellent friend Marcel. Do the people, perhaps, +incline to deny the value of the services he has rendered Paris? +Ingratitude of the masses!"</p> + +<p>"Be at ease, Dame Petronille," answered Marguerite interrupting +her. "Thanks to God, I entertain no fears on the score of +my husband. It is true Denise and I feel sad. Shortly before +you came in, we were speaking of a friend whose fate is making +us uneasy. You have often seen him here. It is Jocelyn the +Champion."</p> + +<p>"Surely; I remember him well. A veritable Hercules ... +was the poor fellow killed?"</p> + +<p>"No; we are not ready to believe that such a misfortune +has happened. But it is a long time we have not heard from him."<a name="page_101" id="page_101"></a></p> + +<p>"Nothing more natural, Dame Marguerite. I can now account +for your tears.... But let me come to the purpose +of my visit, which, seeing the lateness of the hour, must seem +strange to you. The curfew has sounded long ago. You know +how attached Maillart and I are to you and your husband."</p> + +<p>"I feel thankful for your friendship."</p> + +<p>"Now, then, the duty of good friends is to speak frankly."</p> + +<p>"Certainly, there is nothing more precious than sincere friends. +Pray speak, Dame Petronille!"</p> + +<p>"Very well, dear Marguerite; your absence from the funeral +of poor Perrin Macé has been noticed. I attended the ceremony; +you see it on my clothes. In my quality of a councilman's +wife I felt bound to render this last homage to the memory +of the poor victim of an iniquity."</p> + +<p>"Madam ... I can only pity such a victim."</p> + +<p>"And do you not revolt at the fate of the unfortunate man?"</p> + +<p>"That great iniquity has revolted my husband. In his quality +of the first magistrate of the town, he was bound to head the +procession."</p> + +<p>"First magistrate of the town!" rejoined Dame Petronille +with ill-suppressed bitterness. "Yes, until his successor is +elected. Any one of the councilmen can be chosen provost. +The election decides that."</p> + +<p>"Surely," answered Marguerite, exchanging looks with Denise +who had resumed her sewing. "My husband's duty," continued +Marcel's wife, "was first to protest against the crime of the +Regent's courtiers by solemnly attending the funeral of Perrin +Macé.... As to me, Dame Petronille, knowing that it is +not the custom for women to assist at these sad ceremonies, I +stayed at home."</p> + +<p>"But do people care for custom in such grave circumstances?" +cried Maillart's wife. "One consults only his heart, as I did. +Dressed in black from head to foot, I joined the funeral procession, +moaning and weeping all the tears I had. I thought I +would let you know it as a friend, my dear Dame Marguerite.<a name="page_102" id="page_102"></a> +It is much to be regretted that you did not follow my example."</p> + +<p>"Each is the judge of his own conduct, Madam."</p> + +<p>"No doubt, when none is concerned but ourselves. But in this +matter, your husband, our excellent friend Marcel, was also concerned. +I therefore fear that, under the circumstances, you +have done him great harm in the popular esteem."</p> + +<p>"What is it you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, my God! Poor dear dame! Do you think I would have +made haste to come to you after curfew if my purpose were not +to give you charitable advice?"</p> + +<p>"I do not question your good intentions. Marcel himself +imparted to the funeral of Perrin Macé the solemn character +that has been attached to it. He attended it at the head of +the councilmen. In that he fulfilled his duty."</p> + +<p>"I know that my husband marched after yours, madam," +spitefully rejoined the envious woman, "seeing that in his +quality of provost, Master Marcel has precedence over all the +councilmen.... He is acknowledged by all as the leader."</p> + +<p>"Oh, madam! There is no question of rank," cried Marguerite. +"I only meant to say that Marcel attended the funeral."</p> + +<p>"Yes; but you did not, Dame Marguerite; and people said so. +They remarked: 'See, the wife of Master Maillart, the councilman, +follows the hearse of Perrin Macé! Oh! Oh! She does +not care about custom, not she! She meant, like her husband, +to protest with her presence and her tears against the iniquity +of the court. How, then, does it happen that the wife of the +first magistrate remains at home? Can it be that Master Marcel +takes the action of the Regent and court less to heart than +he pretends? Can it be that, as the proverb puts it, he is trying +to run with the hares and hunt with the hounds? Is he secretly +laying the pipes for a reconciliation between himself and the +court? Can Master Marcel contemplate betraying the people?'"</p> + +<p>"Oh! That's infamous!" cried out Denise, unable to control +her indignation. "To dare accuse Master Marcel of treason because<a name="page_103" id="page_103"></a> +his wife did not attend the funeral procession and parade +an affected sorrow!"</p> + +<p>"Denise!" Marguerite quickly called out to the impetuous +young girl, fearing the conversation, puerile in appearance, would +take a still more acrid turn, and entail dangerous results for Marcel.</p> + +<p>It was too late. Rising, Dame Petronille addressed Denise +in a bitter tone: "Listen, learn, my friend, that my pain, no less +than my husband's, was not affectation!"</p> + +<p>"Dame Petronille," Marguerite interposed anxiously, "that was +not Denise's meaning.... Listen to me ... I pray +you."</p> + +<p>"Madam," dryly answered Maillart's wife, "I came here to +warn you as a true friend of the thoughtless, no doubt, but nevertheless, +dangerous rumors against Master Marcel's popularity. +These rumors are at this very hour circulating in Paris.... +So far from thanking me, I am received here with insult. The +lesson is good. I shall profit by it."</p> + +<p>"Dame Petronille—"</p> + +<p>"Enough, Madam. Neither I nor my husband shall ever +again set foot in your house. I meant, like a friend, to point +out to you the danger that Master Marcel's good name is running. +I have done my duty, let come what may!"</p> + +<p>"Dame Petronille," Marguerite answered with sad but severe +dignity, "since Marcel consecrated his life to public affairs, +there is not a word or action of his that he cannot answer for +with head erect. He has done good for good's sake, without even +expecting anything from the gratitude of men. He will remain +indifferent to their ingratitude. If ever his services are not appreciated, +he will take with him into his retirement the consciousness +of ever having acted like an honorable man. As to +me, I shall bless the day when my husband should quit public +affairs so that we may resume our obscure lives and ordinary occupations."</p> + +<p>So obvious was the sincerity with which Marguerite expressed<a name="page_104" id="page_104"></a> +herself in speaking of her delight to return to obscurity, that +Dame Petronille, furious at having been unable to wound the +woman whom she envied, lost all control of herself. "You err," +she declared, "in these days, it does not depend upon a man +like Master Marcel to quietly bury himself in a retreat. No! +No! When one has been the idol of Paris, you must either +keep or lose the confidence of the people. If it is lost, you are +looked upon as a traitor. And do you know what is dealt out to +traitors? Death!"</p> + +<p>"Can the enemies of Marcel have the audacity of pointing +at him as a traitor?" cried Marguerite with tears in her eyes. +"Do they aim at his life? Come, Dame Petronille, your silence +upsets me."</p> + +<p>Petronille was about to answer when the voice of Marcel +was heard outside the chamber cheerfully announcing: "Marguerite! +Denise! I have good news! Good news!" Dame +Petronille remained silent, and stiffly bowing, rapidly took her +departure without uttering a word.<a name="page_105" id="page_105"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_V-b" id="CHAPTER_V-b"></a>CHAPTER V.<br /><br /> +CHARLES THE WICKED.</h3> + +<p>Marcel entered. The radiant joy that suffused his face upon +entering the house now made room for amazement at the silent +and brusque departure of Maillart's wife, who swept by him at +the door. He looked at Marguerite and Denise inquiringly, and +noticing the disquietude and even alarm depicted on their faces +by the odious calumnies of Petronille, he hastened to ask: +"What is the matter, Marguerite? Why did our friend's wife +leave in that strange manner?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, uncle!" broke out the young girl with tears in her eyes. +"There are very wicked people ... serpents and vipers."</p> + +<p>"They are to be pitied, my child. But I hope you do not +refer to wicked people in connection with Maillart's wife?"</p> + +<p>"My friend," said Marguerite with embarrassment, "idle talk +deserves contempt only. Nevertheless, in times like these idle +talk may have serious consequences."</p> + +<p>"Well," observed Marcel dejectedly, "I have but an hour to +spend with you. I am tired out. I hoped to enjoy some rest. +I came full of joy with good news that was to make you happy +as it made me. And here it is all spoiled. But these minutes +of quiet and relaxation are sweet to me at your side, dear objects +of my love."</p> + +<p>"These moments are quite rare," said Marguerite sighing, "and +they are as precious to us as to you ... do not doubt, beloved +Marcel!"</p> + +<p>"I know it. Fortunately, you are not one of those spiritless +women, whose constant anxieties are a torment to their husbands, +who love them and suffer through their uneasiness. No, +you are brave. You accept with fortitude the conditions that +circumstances raise around us, convinced that my conduct is upright.<a name="page_106" id="page_106"></a> +I see you ever serene, and a smile on your lips. I feel +refreshed in your wise and sweet tranquility, and gather new +strength for the struggle, for the present my life is one continuous +struggle. It is a holy struggle, glorious, fruitful ... +but it exhausts ... nevertheless, thanks to you, dear Marguerite, +I ever find at our hearth the happy quiet, the confident +ease that are to the soul what a peaceful sleep is to the body—"</p> + +<p>"Dear Etienne, we shall speak later on the visit of Dame +Petronille," Marguerite broke in, fearing to disturb the rest +her husband had come in search of in her company. "You +have been announcing a good news.... We are waiting for +it."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I prefer that," answered the provost with a sigh of relief, +taking a seat between his wife and Denise, while the latter quietly +removed his hat and cloak. "Coming upstairs I told Agnes to +place an additional cover at supper."</p> + +<p>"Will our son return this evening from the Bastille of St. +Antoine?" quickly inquired Marguerite. "Was that the good +news you brought us? We shall be glad to see him."</p> + +<p>"No, no! Andre will not return before to-morrow morning. +He is to keep watch over night at the Bastille with his company +of cross-bowmen. My son must put the example of order in the +service. He will neglect none of his duties."</p> + +<p>"And who is to take supper with us, uncle?"</p> + +<p>"Why, dear Denise?" answered Marcel smiling. "Who? One +of our best friends. Guess, if you can."</p> + +<p>"Simon the Feather-dealer?... Peter Caillet?... +Master Delille?... Philip Giffart?... John Goddard?... +Josserand?... John Sorel?..."</p> + +<p>"No, Denise. Look not for our guest among my friends of the +council. He is not yet old enough to figure in such serious functions. +But, so as to help you guess, I shall add that our guest +for this evening has just arrived from the country."</p> + +<p>"Can it be my old cousin who lives with his daughter at Vaucouleurs?<a name="page_107" id="page_107"></a> +Can he have left the quiet valley of the Meuse to come +and see us?"</p> + +<p>"No, dear Denise. The friend whom we expect has been +away from Paris only a short time. Cudgel your memory."</p> + +<p>"A short time?" Denise repeated mechanically, and struck by +a sudden thought but hardly daring to indulge it, the poor child +grew pale, joined her two trembling hands, and fixing upon her +uncle a look at once full of anxiety and hope, she stammered: +"Uncle, what is it you say? Can it be?..."</p> + +<p>"I shall add that the fate of that friend has recently made us +feel uneasy."</p> + +<p>"It is he!" cried Denise throwing herself at Marcel's neck. +"Can it be?... Jocelyn is back ... God be praised!"</p> + +<p>"Jocelyn!" exclaimed Marguerite joining in the surprise and +joy of Denise. "Have you seen him? Is he in Paris?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; I saw the worthy fellow this morning at the town hall. +He is in good health, although he has suffered a good deal during +his travels."</p> + +<p>The emotion and tears of Denise must be left undescribed. +After the first ebullition of joy was over, Marcel said to his +wife: "I was presiding at the town hall over the council when +one of our sergeants handed me a letter. I opened it and read +that Jocelyn requested to speak with me. I ordered him to be +taken upstairs to my room, and immediately after the session I +hastened thither. Oh, my poor Denise! I confess it. I hardly +recognized our friend, he was so changed! He has lost flesh +... his eyes are hollow ... his cheek-bones stick out."</p> + +<p>"What happened to him?" asked Denise. "Did he go to fight +the English, as my aunt feared. Does he come from prison?"</p> + +<p>"He comes from prison, but did not go to war," answered +Marcel. "This is what happened: As you know, he left for +Nointel in Beauvoisis. After he left Nointel at night, and +taking rest for an hour the next morning at Beaumont-sur-Oise, +he resumed his journey. A short while after he heard the rapid +gallop of a horse approaching behind him; turning he saw a<a name="page_108" id="page_108"></a> +man with a woman on his horse's crupper fleeing before three +armed knights who followed at a distance. The couple drew in a +few steps from Jocelyn, and the man, a lad of about twenty, +said to our friend: 'We are fleeing from the castle of the Sire of +Beaumont; he is the guardian of my sister who accompanies me, +and he sought to violate her. He is riding after us with his +men. You are armed. For pity's sake defend us; help me to +protect my sister!..."</p> + +<p>"I know the heart and courage of Jocelyn," said Denise deeply +moved. "He surely took the part of the unfortunate girl!"</p> + +<p>"Without hesitating, because, as he said to me, in his capacity +of champion he could not refuse so good a case. The Sire of +Beaumont arrived with his two equerries...."</p> + +<p>"And the combat started!" cried Denise joining her hands. +"Poor Jocelyn! Alone against three!"</p> + +<p>"He was strong enough to overcome them. Unfortunately, +however, at the very start of the action one of the combatants +dealt him such a furious blow from behind with a mace on the +head that Jocelyn's casque was broken. He fell from his horse +unconscious ... and when he awoke he found himself half +naked lying on straw, and aching at every limb at the bottom of a +dungeon."</p> + +<p>"Poor Jocelyn!" said Marguerite. "That dungeon, no doubt, +was some prison cell in the castle of Beaumont, whither our +wounded friend was transported after the combat, stripped of his +arms and in a dying condition?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear Marguerite; and Jocelyn remained in that cell, +a prey to a devouring fever, until his recent release."</p> + +<p>"How he must have suffered! But, uncle, how did our poor +friend manage to come out?"</p> + +<p>"A few days after taking Jocelyn prisoner, the Sire of Beaumont +departed with his men to fight the English. Whether he +was killed or captured at the rout of Poitiers is not known. +But two days ago the Sire of Beaumont's castle was attacked and +taken by the troop of a certain Captain Griffith."<a name="page_109" id="page_109"></a></p> + +<p>"That horrible adventurer, who pushed forward as far as St. +Cloud and gave us such a fright?" asked Denise. "I remember +you left the city at the head of the militia, ran against and +forced him to retreat. Good God! In what hands did poor +Jocelyn fall!"</p> + +<p>"Be not alarmed, dear child! By a singular accident our +friend has had only cause to praise the adventurer. That savage +and eccentric warrior seems sometimes to yield to generous +impulses. After having, according to their wont, sacked the +castle of Beaumont, massacred the men and violated the women, +the band delved down into the subterranean passages in quest of +booty. Thus they came to Jocelyn's dungeon, broke his chains +and lead him to Captain Griffith, who on that day happily happened +to be in a good humor. He cross-questioned our friend, +and no doubt struck by his brave and robust appearance, despite +all his sufferings, made him an offer to enlist in his company. +Jocelyn declined. Griffith, who was half in his cups, then +ordered Jocelyn to be furnished with clothes and two florins, +and, alluding to our friend's thinness said to him: 'When you +shall have regained some meat on your bones you will prove a +rude customer; if I again run across you I should be pleased to +break a lance with you. You are free. Go! And my patron +saint, the Devil, be good to you!"</p> + +<p>"That Griffith is a dreadful bandit!" repeated Denise. "And +yet I cannot but feel thankful to him for having liberated +Jocelyn."</p> + +<p>"And then," put in Marguerite, "our friend proceeded straight +back to Paris?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered Marcel sadly, "here another and unexpected +sorrow awaited him."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Denise, "his father's death? It must have been +a severe blow to him!"</p> + +<p>"Yes; the blow was severe. Picture to yourself what he must +have felt. On his arrival, he hastened joyfully to the house +of our old friend Lebrenn, the book-seller. There he first learned<a name="page_110" id="page_110"></a> +of his loss.... He spent the whole of yesterday and the +night in solitude and mourning. This morning he came to see +me at the town hall. This evening we shall be at least able to +offer him the consolation of a tried friendship."</p> + +<p>Agnes the Bigot came in at this juncture and handed to Marcel +a small gold medal enameled in green and bearing the letters +"C" and "N," surmounted by a crown. "A man," she announced, +"wrapped up to the nose in a cloak and whose eyes +are barely visible, is in the shop; he wishes to see Master Marcel +without delay; he handed me the medal with orders to bring +it to you."</p> + +<p>Marcel was visibly surprised at the sight of the medal, and said +to his wife: "Dear Marguerite, I shall not be able to enjoy even +the short hour of rest that I promised myself. Leave me alone +now. Go down with Denise. Jocelyn cannot now be long +coming. Do not stay supper for me"; and turning to Agnes the +Bigot: "Lead the man upstairs."</p> + +<p>"Marcel," said Marguerite uneasily, while the servant withdrew +to execute her master's orders, "you are fatigued, and will +you not take even time enough for a meal?"</p> + +<p>"In a few minutes, when I go down again, I shall take a few +mouthfuls before leaving."</p> + +<p>"What! Another night!"</p> + +<p>"I convoked a night meeting to the convent of the Cordeliers," +explained Marcel, assuming a serious expression; "the funeral +of Perrin Macé may be the signal for transcendent happenings. +We must be ready for all eventualities—"</p> + +<p>The provost did not finish the sentence, seeing the closely +cloaked man appear at the door led by Agnes. Marguerite left +feeling all the more alarmed, the unfinished words of her husband +having recalled to her mind the recent conversation with +Petronille Maillart. After the departure of the two women, the +stranger, first making certain that the door was closed, removed +his cloak and threw it on a chair. The man, extremely small of +stature, twenty-five years at the most, and dressed plainly in a<a name="page_111" id="page_111"></a> +buff jacket, was of distinguished and regular features; yet despite +the gracefulness of his carriage, the affability of his manners and +the almost caressing melody of his voice, there lingered a sardonic +and insidious leer in his smile that betrayed the wickedness of his +soul and the perversity of his heart. More and more concerned +by the man's presence, Marcel seemed to accept his visit as one of +those disagreeable duties that men in public life must frequently +submit to; nevertheless his icy attitude and his look of suspicion +fully revealed the aversion he entertained for his caller, to whom +he said: "I did not expect to receive this evening the King of +Navarre in my house."</p> + +<p>Charles the Wicked—that was the man's well deserved nickname—answered +with a smile and with his insinuating voice, +that most perfidious of all his charms: "Do not kings pay each +other mutual visits? What is there surprising in that Charles, +King of Navarre, should pay a visit to Marcel, King of the +people of Paris? We are sovereigns, both of us."</p> + +<p>"Sire," answered Marcel impatiently, "please to state the purpose +of your visit. What do you wish of me? No useless words!"</p> + +<p>"You are short of speech."</p> + +<p>"Shortness is the language of business. Moreover, it is well to +measure the words one utters in your presence."</p> + +<p>"Do you, then, continue to mistrust me?"</p> + +<p>"Always, more than ever."</p> + +<p>"I love frankness."</p> + +<p>"Come, to the point, direct, and without mental reservation."</p> + +<p>For a moment Charles the Wicked remained silent; then +boldly fixing his viper's eyes upon the provost, he answered, +slowly weighing each word:</p> + +<p>"What do I wish, Marcel? I wish to be King of the French.... +This astonishes you!"</p> + +<p>"No," answered the provost with a coolness that stupefied +Charles the Wicked; "sooner or later you were bound to make the +disclosure."<a name="page_112" id="page_112"></a></p> + +<p>"You foresaw things from a great distance.... How +long is it since you foresaw it?"</p> + +<p>"Since I saw your creature Robert le Coq, Bishop of Laon, +throw himself with ardor on the side of the popular party, and +show himself one of the most violent enemies of King John, +whose daughter you married—"</p> + +<p>"Nevertheless, if my memory does not fail me, you made good +use of the influence of the Bishop of Laon in the States General +to induce them to accept your famous ordinance of reforms."</p> + +<p>"I use any instrument that aids me in doing good."</p> + +<p>"And then you break it?"</p> + +<p>"If necessary. But Robert le Coq is too subtle to be broken. +Nevertheless, despite his finesse, I have penetrated his secret +motives."</p> + +<p>"And that is?"</p> + +<p>"The people of Paris have with their keen eyes and tongues +surnamed the Bishop of Laon 'a two-edged dirk;' the people, Sire, +are right. By showing himself so hostile to King John, your +father-in-law, and afterwards so hostile to the Regent, your brother-in-law, +the Bishop of Laon played a double game. He aimed, +with the aid of the popular party, to first of all dethrone the +reigning dynasty; and then ... to give the crown to you. +That is the reason, Sire, why I am not taken by surprise at your +admission that you wish to be King of the French."</p> + +<p>"What do you think of my pretensions?"</p> + +<p>"Your chances are fair of mounting the throne. I am ready +to admit that."</p> + +<p>"With your help, Marcel?"</p> + +<p>"I might enter into your projects."</p> + +<p>"Is that true!" cried the King of Navarre, unable to conceal +his joy; but after a short moment's reflection, and casting upon +the provost a defiant look, he presently proceeded: "Marcel, you +are laying a trap for me.... I know how and more than +once you have expressed yourself regarding me. Your words were +extremely severe."<a name="page_113" id="page_113"></a></p> + +<p>"Sire, you are called <i>Charles the Wicked</i>. I hold the name fits +you. But you are active, subtle, venturesome; you command numerous +armed bands; your partisans are powerful; your wealth +considerable. You are a force, that, at a given moment, may be +useful. For that reason I caused your release from prison where +your father-in-law kept you locked up."</p> + +<p>"So that I, Charles, King of Navarre, am to be merely an instrument +in the hands of Marcel, the cloth merchant."</p> + +<p>"Sire, you have your views; I have mine, and I shall express +them to you. The Regent, hypocritic and stubborn, mocks at his +oaths. He signed and promulgated the reform ordinances; he embraced +me in tears, calling me his good father; he swore by God +and all the saints that he desired the welfare of the people and +that he would loyally adhere to the great measures decreed by the +national assembly. The Regent has broken all his promises. His +ruse, his well calculated indolence, his ill will, the increasing +audacity of the court and the nobility, who rule supreme in their +domains, either hamper or prevent the execution of the new +edicts. The Regent is secretly inciting the jealousy of a large +number of communal cities against Paris, that, as they put it, 'is +seeking to govern Gaul'. The nobility in its deliberate inaction, +and sheltered by its fortified castles, allows the English to extend +their depredations to the very gates of Paris. The royal +false money continues to ruin commerce and to destroy credit. +Finally, only two days ago, the Regent's favorite caused a +bourgeois of Paris to be mutilated and executed under our very +eyes, thereby proclaiming the contempt of the court for the laws +enacted by the States General. The plan of the court is simple: +to tire out the country by disasters: to render impossible the good +results that were justly expected from the national assembly, a +popular government where the King is no longer master but +servant: finally, the court expects that one of these days it can +tell the people, whose sufferings will have become intolerable +by these machinations: 'Ye people, behold the fruit of your +rebellion. In lieu of having remained submissive, as in the<a name="page_114" id="page_114"></a> +past, to the sovereign authority of your kings, you have wished +to reign, yourselves, by sending your deputies to the States +General; you now pay the penalty of your audacity. May this +rough lesson prove to you once more that princes are born to +command and the people to obey. And now, pay your taxes and +resume your secular yoke with humble repentance'!"</p> + +<p>"So help me God! You could not have been better instructed +upon the projects of my brother-in-law and his councilors if you +had attended their secret meetings! And if they triumph, would +you despair?"</p> + +<p>"Despair?—For the present, Sire; but I would remain full of +hope in the future. The conquest of freedom is as assured as +it is slow, laborious and painful.... I do not even now +despair of the present. I propose to make a last attempt with +the Regent."</p> + +<p>"And if you fail, will you come to me?"</p> + +<p>"Between two evils, Sire, one is forced to choose the lesser."</p> + +<p>"In short, you believe you will find in me what the Regent +lacks?"</p> + +<p>"You have an immense advantage over him. You wish to become +King of the French, while the Regent is that by birth."</p> + +<p>"Do you forget my royalty of Navarre?"</p> + +<p>"To speak truly, I did forget it, Sire ... just as you +forget it for the crown of France. As I was saying, a King +by the right of birth looks upon all reform as an encroachment +upon his power.... You, on the contrary, look upon the +reforms as a means whereby to usurp power. Now, then, however +perfidious, however wicked you, Charles the Wicked, may +be, I dare you to fail to announce your access to the throne—and +that in your own interest—by great and useful measures +to the public welfare. That much would be gained ... +later, we shall see...."</p> + +<p>"And throw me down?"</p> + +<p>"I shall work to that end, Sire, with all my powers, the +moment you turn from the straight path. You are forewarned."<a name="page_115" id="page_115"></a></p> + +<p>"And, Master Marcel, you would destroy your own work +without scruple?"</p> + +<p>"Without scruple! Moreover, better so than as it happened +with the first and second dynasties when the stewards of the +royal palace or the large feudal seigneurs dethroned the kings +and changed dynasties."</p> + +<p>"And who would then accomplish the rough task? I would +like to know the artisan."</p> + +<p>"The people, Sire!... That people, still in its infancy +and credulous, must learn that at its breath it can waft away +the sovereign masters who impose themselves upon it by force +and cunning, and whom the church consecrated. Some day, +this very century perhaps, that people will come of age; it will +realize the ruinous and superfluousness of the royal power. +But that day is not yet. In our days, the people, ignorant +and enslaved to habit, would wish to crown a new master the +moment they overthrow an old one. They rely on princes. +You, Sire, are one of these predestined beings. You can even +pretend to reign over Gaul by virtue of one of your ancestors, +who was himself deprived of the crown for the benefit of his +cousin Philip of Valois, the father of King John. It is, accordingly, +not impossible that you may some day reign over +France ... a deplorable possibility ... yet tangible +enough!"</p> + +<p>"You must have courage to speak that wise to me."</p> + +<p>"Instead of telling you the truth, I would otherwise be basely +flattering you, whose first thought, if to-morrow you are King, +would be to rid yourself of me. I indulge in no illusions on +that head."</p> + +<p>"Rid myself of you, who would have served me!"</p> + +<p>"For that very reason! My presence would be a constant +reminder of your debt. But that matters not. Whether I +die to-day or to-morrow, whether you be king or not, whether +or not my last effort with the Regent fail, whether the court +party triumph or is now vanquished—whatever may happen,<a name="page_116" id="page_116"></a> +the future belongs to the popular party even if the present +may slip. Yes; whatever people may do, the ordinance of +the reforms of 1356 and the sovereign act of the national assembly +in this generation will leave imperishable traces behind +them. I have sowed too hastily, some say, and they add, +'a slow crop follows a hasty planting.' Be it so! But I have +sowed. The seed is in the earth. Sooner or later the future +will gather the crop. My task is done. I can die. And now, +Sire, I sum up: If I fail in my last attempt with the Regent, +I shall take recourse with you. You will be first appointed +captain-general of Paris ... it will be your first step +towards the throne.... We shall then take measures to +lead things to a happy issue, according to our device."</p> + +<p>"My first words on coming in were: 'Marcel, I wish to be King +of the French.' I had my project. I renounce it to join +yours," said Charles the Wicked resuming his cloak. "You +are one of those inflexible men who can not be convinced any +more than they can be corrupted. I shall not seek to change +your views concerning me, nor yet to purchase your alliance. +However dangerous it may be to me, I accept it as you offer +it. I return to St. Denis to await the event. In case my +presence shall be necessary in Paris, write to me and I shall +come. I only demand of you absolute secrecy on this interview."</p> + +<p>"Our common interests demand secrecy."</p> + +<p>"Adieu, Marcel! May God prosper you."</p> + +<p>"Adieu, Sire!"</p> + +<p>Enveloping himself anew up to his eyes, the King of Navarre +left the provost. The latter followed him with his eyes, and +after the departure of Charles the Wicked said to himself: +"Fatal necessity! To have to aid in the elevation of this man! +And yet it may be necessary! The change of dynasty may +help me to save Gaul, should the Regent wreck to-morrow +my last hope.... Yes, Charles the Wicked, with the view +of usurping and keeping the crown, will be compelled to enter<a name="page_117" id="page_117"></a> +the wide path of the reforms that alone can lighten the weight +now crushing the townsmen and above all the peasantry. Oh, +poor rustic plebs, so patient in your secular martyrdom! Oh, +poor Jacques Bonhomme, as the nobility in its insolent haughtiness +loves to call you, your day of deliverance is approaching! +For the first time united in a common cause with the bourgeoisie, +the people of the towns, when you will stand erect, +Jacques Bonhomme, in arms as your brothers of the towns, +we shall see whether this Charles the Wicked, however execrable +a man he may be, will dare to deviate from the path +that he is ordered to march!"</p> + +<p>A bell rang and recalled Marcel from his reverie. "I shall +have barely time to reach the convent of the Cordeliers, in +order to prepare our friends for to-morrow's measures ... +terrible measures!... yet as legitimate as the law of +retaliation ... supreme and unavoidable law in such +gloomy days as these, when violence can be opposed and overcome +with violence only! Oh! Let the blood fall upon the heads +of those who, having driven the people to extremities, have by +their conduct provoked these impious struggles!"</p> + +<p>Saying this, Marcel descended the stairs to take his leave +from his wife, his niece and Jocelyn the Champion, who, at +the invitation of the provost was then taking supper with his +family, and, gathered around the table, presented a charming +picture of peace and good will.<a name="page_118" id="page_118"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_VI-b" id="CHAPTER_VI-b"></a>CHAPTER VI.<br /><br /> +AT THE CORDELIERS.</h3> + +<p>After taking some rest at Rufin's lodging, William Caillet +accompanied his host to the convent of the Cordeliers, where a +large crowd was gathering, greedy to hear Marcel's address. The +Cordeliers, a poor monastic order that aroused the profound +enviousness of the high and splendidly endowed clergy, had +ranked themselves on the side of the people against the court. +The large hall of their convent was the habitual place for the +holding of large popular mass meetings. Acquainted with the +brother who attended the gate, Rufin received from him permission +to speak with Marcel in the refectory which he would have +to cross on the way to the hall where he was to address the people. +The spacious hall, walled and vaulted with stone, and lighted only +by the lamps that burned on a sort of tribune situated at one of +its extremities, was packed with a dense and impatient crowd, on +the front ranks alone of which fell the light of the lamps; the +deeper ranks, and in the measure that they stood further and +further away from the lighted platform, remained in a semi-obscurity, +that deepened into complete darkness at the other end +of the hall. The audience consisted of bourgeois and artisans, +a large number of whom wore head covers of red and blue, the +colors adopted by the popular party, and brooches with the device +"To a happy issue."</p> + +<p>The two funerals that had taken place during the day, and +both the contrast and significance of which were so obvious, formed +the subject of conversation with the seething mass. The +least clear-sighted among them foresaw a decisive crisis and an +inevitable conflict between the court and the people, represented +respectively by the Regent and Marcel. Accordingly, the arrival<a name="page_119" id="page_119"></a> +of the latter was awaited with as much impatience as +anxiety. A few minutes later Marcel entered by a door near the +platform, accompanied by several councilmen, John Maillart +among them. Jocelyn the Champion, Rufin the Tankard-smasher +and William Caillet brought up the rear. The last of these +had just enjoyed a long conversation with Marcel and Jocelyn. +Enthusiastic cheers greeted Marcel and the councilmen. The +former mounted the platform followed by all the councilmen, +except Maillart who remained below, and took seats behind the +speaker. In the midst of profound silence, Marcel said:</p> + +<p>"My friends, the hour is critical. Let us indulge neither in +faint-heartedness nor in illusions. The regent and the court +have dropped the mask. This morning, to our solemn protest +against the iniquitous and sanguinary act that in defiance of law +smote Perrin Macé, the court answered by following the hearse +of John Baillet. This is a challenge.... Let us take up the +gauge! Let us make ready for battle."</p> + +<p>"Aye! Aye!" came the thundering response from the audience. +"The Regent and his courtiers shall not make us retreat."</p> + +<p>"For a moment frightened by the firmness of the national assembly", +Marcel proceeded, "the Regent granted the reforms and +swore to carry them out. The deputies of the towns of Gaul, +gathered at Paris in the States General, were, with the loyal +aid of the Regent, to rule the whole country wisely and paternally, +as the magistrates of the communes rule the towns. Thus +there would no longer be any royal and feudal tyranny; no more +ruinous prodigalities; no more false money; no more venal +justice; no more excessive taxes; no more arbitrary imposts; no +more pillaging in the name of the King and princes; no more +odious privileges for church and nobility; in short, there would +be an end of the infamous and horrible seigniorial rights that +cause the heart to rise, and reason to revolt. That is what we +wanted; and that is just what the Regent and the court resist +energetically."</p> + +<p>"Blood and death!" cried Maillart in a loud voice, rising from<a name="page_120" id="page_120"></a> +his seat with violent gesticulation. "They will have to submit; +if not we shall massacre every one of them from the Regent down +to the last courtier! Death to the traitors! To arms! Let's set +fire to the palace and the castles."</p> + +<p>A large number applauded the excited words of Maillart; and +the man of the furred cap, who insinuated himself into this +meeting as he had done in the morning among the crowds that +witnessed the funeral procession of Perrin Macé, moved about +saying: "Hein, my friends, what an intrepid man is this Master +Maillart! He speaks only of blood and massacre! Master Marcel, +on the contrary, seems always afraid to compromise himself. +It does not surprise me; it is said he has secretly embraced +the side of the court."</p> + +<p>"Marcel ... betray the people of Paris!" answered several +men. "You are raving, good man! Go on your way!"</p> + +<p>"All the same," insisted the man of the furred cap, "Marcel +keeps quiet and does not respond to the appeal to arms so bravely +made by Master Maillart."</p> + +<p>"How do you expect Marcel to speak in the midst of all this +noise? But, silence! Quiet is being restored. Marcel is about +to resume. Let's listen!"</p> + +<p>"No criminal weakness," proceeded Marcel; "but neither let +there be any blind revenge. Soon perhaps the cry 'To arms!' +will resound from one confine of Gaul to the other, both in towns +and country!"</p> + +<p>"Eh! What do we care about the country?" cried Maillart. +"Let's mind our own business. Let's roll up our sleeves and +strike without mercy!"</p> + +<p>"My friend, your courage carries you away," Marcel answered +Maillart in an accent of cordial reproach. "Shall the boon of +freedom be the privilege of some only? Are we, the bourgeois +and artisans of the towns, the whole people? Are there not +millions of serfs, vassals and villeins given up to the mercy of +feudal power? Who cares for these unfortunate people? Nobody!<a name="page_121" id="page_121"></a> +Who represents their interests in the States General? +Nobody!" And turning to William Caillet, who, standing aside +and under the shadow was attentively listening to the provost, +he pointed to the poor peasant and added: "No, I was mistaken. +On this day the serfs are here represented. Contemplate +this old man and listen to me!"</p> + +<p>All eyes turned to Caillet, who in his rustic timidity lowered +his head. Marcel continued:</p> + +<p>"Listen to me, and your hearts, like mine, will boil with indignation. +With me you will cry: 'Justice and vengeance! +War upon the castles, peace to the cottages!' The history of this +vassal is that of all of our brothers of the country. This man +had a daughter, the only solace to his sorrows. The name +of that child, who was as beautiful as wise, will indicate her +candor to you. It is Aveline-who-never-lied. She was affianced +to a miller lad, a vassal like herself. By reason of the +goodness of his disposition he was called Mazurec the Lambkin. +The day of their marriage is set.... But in these days the +wife's first night belongs to her seigneur.... The nobles +call it the right of first fruits."</p> + +<p>"Shame!" cried the audience in furious indignation. "Execrable +shame!"</p> + +<p>"And this execrable shame are we not the accomplices of by +allowing our brothers to remain subject to it?" cried Marcel +in a voice that dominated the thrill of anger which ran through +the audience. Silence being again restored, Marcel proceeded: +"If the bride is homely, or if it so happen that the seigneur +is unable to violate her, he puts on the mien of a good prince; +he receives money from the bridegroom, and the latter escapes the +ignominy. William Caillet, that is the name of the bride's +father, that man yonder, wished to ransom his daughter from +such shame; in the absence of the seigneur, the bailiff consented +to a money indemnity. Caillet sells his only property, +a milch-cow, and gives the money to Mazurec, who, with bounding<a name="page_122" id="page_122"></a> +joy, proceeds to the castle to redeem the honor of his wife. A +knight happens to cross his path and robs the vassal. The +latter reaches the manor in tears and recognizes the robber +among the guests of his seigneur, who had just arrived. The +vassal prays for mercy for his wife, and for justice against +the robber. 'O, your bride, I am told is beautiful and you charge +one of my noble guests with theft,' said the seigneur to him, +'I shall take your bride into my bed, and you shall be punished +with death for defaming a knight.' That's not all!" cried +Marcel suppressing with a gesture a fresh explosion from the +audience whose indignation was rising to highest pitch. "Driven +to despair, the vassal assaults his seigneur; he is thrown into +prison; the bride is dragged to the castle; she resists her seigneur +... he has the right to have her pinioned. Does he do so? +No! He meant to give Jacques Bonhomme a striking lesson. +He meant to show that he could take the vassal's wife not +only by the right of the strongest but also in the name of +the law, of justice and even of that which is most sacred in +the world, of God himself! The seigneur indulges this savage +pleasure. He files a complaint with the seneschal of Beauvoisis +'against the resistance of the vassal!' The judges meet, and a +decision is rendered in the name of right, justice and law in +these terms: 'Whereas, the seigneur has the right of first +fruits over the bride of his vassal, he shall exercise his right over +her; whereas, the bridegroom has dared to revolt against the +legitimate exercise of that right, he shall make the amende +honorable to his seigneur with arms crossed and upon his knees! +Furthermore, whereas the said vassal has charged a knight with +robbery, and the latter has demanded to prove his innocence +by arms, we decree a judicial combat. According to law, the +knight shall combat in full armor and on horseback, the serf on +foot and armed with a stick; and if the vassal is vanquished +and survives, he shall be drowned as the defamer of a knight.'"</p> + +<p>At these last words of Marcel's an explosion of fury broke<a name="page_123" id="page_123"></a> +forth from the audience. Caillet hid his pale and somber face +in his hands. Marcel restored quiet and proceeded:</p> + +<p>"Justice has spoken; the decree is enforced. The bride is +bound and carried to the bed of the seigneur; he dishonors her +and then returns her to her husband. The latter makes the +amende honorable on his knees before his seigneur; he is thereupon +taken to the arena to fight half naked the iron-cased knight.... +You may guess the issue of the duel.... The +vassal being vanquished, he is put into a bag and thrown into the +river.... Such is feudal justice!"</p> + +<p>"And to-day," now cried out William Caillet stepping forward, +a frightful picture of hate and rage, "my daughter carries in her +bosom the child of her seigneur! What shall be done to that +child, townsmen of Paris, if born alive? You have wives and +daughters and sisters! Answer, what would you do? Is that +child of shame to be loved? Is it to be hated as the child of +Aveline's executioner? Should I at the whelp's birth break in +his head lest he grow into a wolf? What to do?"</p> + +<p>An oppressive silence followed upon the words of William +Caillet. None dared answer. Marcel continued:</p> + +<p>"This, then, is what is going on at the very gates of our +town. The country people are pitilessly left to the mercy of the +seigneurs! The women are violated, and the men put to death! +We have been the accomplices of the executioners of so many +victims; we have been so by our criminal indifference, and to-day +we pay the penalty of our selfishness. We, the townspeople, believed +we would be strong enough to overcome the seigneurs and +the crown; we imagined we could compel them to reform the +execrable abuses that oppress us. To-day we should admit that +we have thought too highly of our own power. The Regent +and his partisans violate their own sworn oaths, and shatter +our hopes. Vainly have I, in the name of the States General, +again and again requested an audience from the Regent to +remind him of his sacred promises. The gates of Louvre remained +shut in my face. The audacity of our enemies proceeds<a name="page_124" id="page_124"></a> +from the circumstance that our power ends outside of the +gates of our towns. Let us join hands with the serfs of the +country; let us cease separating our cause from theirs, and matters +will take on a different aspect. We never shall obtain +lasting and fruitful reforms without a close alliance with the +country folks. If to-morrow at a given signal the serfs should +rise in arms against their seigneurs, and the towns against the +officers, then no human power would be able to overcome such +a mass-uprising. The Regent, the seigneurs and their troops +would be swept aside and annihilated by the storm. Then +would the peoples of Gaul, resuming possession of their country's +soil and re-entering upon their freedom, see before them a +future of peace, of grandeur and of prosperity without end.... +Do you desire to realize that future by joining hands +with our brothers the peasants?"</p> + +<p>"Aye! Aye! We will!" cried the councilmen.</p> + +<p>"Aye! Aye! We will!" re-echoed from thousands of voices +with boundless enthusiasm. "Let's join our brothers of the +country. Let our device be theirs also—'To a happy issue,' for +townsmen and peasants!"</p> + +<p>"Come, poor martyr!" cried Marcel with tears in his eyes +and embracing Caillet, who was not less moved than the provost. +"I take heaven and the cries that escape from so many generous +hearts, moved by the recital of the sufferings of your family, +as witnesses to the indissoluble alliance concluded this day between +all the children of our mother country! Let us stand +united against our common enemy! Artisans, bourgeois and +peasants—<i>each for all, and all for each</i>, and to a happy issue the +good cause! War upon the castles!"</p> + +<p>Sublime was the sensation, holy the enthusiasm of the crowd +at the sight of the provost, dressed in his magisterial robe, +closing in his arms the horny-handed serf dressed in rags.</p> + +<p>Profoundly moved and even surprised by what he saw and +heard, Caillet, despite his rugged nature, almost fainted. Tears<a name="page_125" id="page_125"></a> +streamed down his face. He leaned against the wall to avoid +dropping to the floor, while Marcel cried out:</p> + +<p>"Let all who desire to lead the good cause to a happy issue +meet to-morrow morning arms in hand upon the square of St. +Eloi church."</p> + +<p>"Count upon us, Marcel," came from the crowd; "we shall +all be there! We shall follow you with closed eyes! Long +live Marcel! Long live the peasants! To a happy issue! To +a happy issue! War on the castles, peace to the huts!" Amid +these exclamations the crowd tumultuously evacuated the hall of +the Cordeliers.</p> + +<p>"Do you see, friends, how far this Marcel goes in his defiance +of the people of Paris?" remarked the man of the furred cap +to several townsmen near him as they were leaving the hall. +"Did you hear him?"</p> + +<p>"What did he say that was so bad? Come, now, my good man, +you are losing your wits!"</p> + +<p>"What did he say? Why, he calls for help to the vagabonds +and strollers in the country! Are we not brave enough to do our +own work without the support of Jacques Bonhomme? Verily, +never before did Master Marcel show so completely the contempt +he entertains for us! John Maillart is quite another +friend of the people! Long live John Maillart!"<a name="page_126" id="page_126"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_VII-b" id="CHAPTER_VII-b"></a>CHAPTER VII.<br /><br /> +POPULAR JUSTICE.</h3> + +<p>It is some time since sunrise. The Regent, who has recently +and for good cause moved to the tower of the Louvre, has just +risen from his bed, which is located in the rear of a vast +chamber, roofed with gilded rafters and magnificently furnished. +Rich carpets hang from the walls. A few favorites +are accorded the august honor of assisting the treacherous and +wily youth, who is reigning over Gaul, in his morning toilet. +One of the courtiers, the seigneur of Norville, jealous of his +servitude to the prince, is kneeling at his feet in the act of +adjusting his long tapering shoes, while, seated on the edge of his +bed, his head down, careworn, pensive and twirling his thumbs +as was his habit, the Regent mechanically allows himself to be +shod. Hugh, the Sire of Conflans and marshal of Normandy, +he who presided at the mutilation and execution of Perrin Macé, +is conversing in a low voice with Robert, marshal of Champagne, +another councilor of the Regent, in the embrasure of a +window at the other end of the chamber. After a long time +watching his thumbs twirl, the Regent raised his head, called the +marshal of Normandy in his shrill voice and asked: "Hugh, +at what hour is the barrier of the Seine closed, below the +postern that opens on the river bank?"</p> + +<p>"Sire, the barrier is closed at nightfall"; and the marshal +added sardonically. "Such are the orders of Marcel."</p> + +<p>"After nightfall, no vessel can leave Paris?"</p> + +<p>"No, Sire. After nightfall no one can leave Paris either by +land or water. Such, again, are the orders of Marcel."</p> + +<p>"In that case," the Regent replied without looking up and<a name="page_127" id="page_127"></a> +after a moment's reflection, "you will procure a vessel this +morning, have it moored outside of the barrier at a little distance +from the postern gate at the foot of the little staircase. You +and Robert," proceeded the Regent pointing to the marshal of +Champagne, "will hold yourselves ready to accompany me. +Prudence and discretion."</p> + +<p>For a moment the two favorites remained mute with astonishment. +The marshal of Normandy broke the silence with the +question: "Do you contemplate leaving Paris by night and +furtively, Sire? Would you not be leaving the field to that +miserable Marcel? Why, by the saints! If that insolent bourgeois +annoys you, Sire, follow the advice I have so often given +you! Have Marcel and his councilmen hanged as I hanged +Perrin Macé! Did his execution cause Paris to riot? No; not +one of the good-for-nothings has dared to kick; they contented +themselves with attending in mass the funeral of the hanged +fellow. Charge me with relieving you of Marcel along with his +gang. It is done quickly."</p> + +<p>"Among other scamps that should be hanged high and short," +added the marshal of Champagne, "is one Maillart, who is +profuse in violent denunciations of the court!"</p> + +<p>"Maillart! Allow not a hair on Maillart's head to be +touched!" said the Regent with lively interest, while bestowing +a sinister and false leer upon the courtiers.</p> + +<p>"It will be as you say, Sire," answered the marshal of Normandy, +not a little astonished at the prince's words. "We shall +spare Maillart. But by God! Order that the other insolent +creatures be put to death, Marcel first of all! Your orders shall +be executed."</p> + +<p>"Hugh," answered the prince, rising on his feet to put on his +robe that the seigneur of Norville was pressing upon his master +after having shod him, "let the vessel be ready this evening as I +ordered. Be punctual. Prudence and discretion."</p> + +<p>"You do not then listen to my advice!" cried the marshal almost<a name="page_128" id="page_128"></a> +angrily. "Your clemency for those vile bourgeois will +yet be the undoing of you! Your goodness misleads you!"</p> + +<p>"My clemency! My goodness!" repeated the prince, casting +a sinister look upon the marshal.</p> + +<p>Understanding now the secret thoughts of his master, the +courtier answered: "If you have decided to mete out prompt +justice to that insolent bourgeoisie, why wait so long, Sire?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! Oh! Why!" said the young man shrugging his shoulders. +He then relapsed into silence, and presently repeated: "Let the +vessel be ready this evening."</p> + +<p>The Regent's favorites were too well acquainted with the +youth's stubbornness and profound powers of dissimulation to endeavor +to obtain from him any further light upon his plans. +Nevertheless, the marshal of Normandy was about to return +to the charge, when an officer of the palace entered and said: +"Sire, the seigneur of Nointel and the knight of Chaumontel +request admission to take leave from you, a favor that you have +accorded them."</p> + +<p>At a sign of the Regent the officer left walking backward, +and returned almost immediately accompanied by Conrad of +Nointel and the knight of Chaumontel. The trials of war had +no wise affected the health of the two seigneurs. The two had +been among the first to turn tail at the battle of Poitiers. The +groom of the beautiful Gloriande was not leading back to her +feet the ten chained English prisoners that she had demanded +as the pledge of her future husband's valor.</p> + +<p>"Well, Conrad of Nointel, you are leaving the court to return +to your seigniory?" said the Regent. "We hope to see you +again in more prosperous days. We ever love to number a +Neroweg among our faithful vassals, seeing that it is said your +family is as old as that of the first Frankish kings. Have you +not an elder brother?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Sire. The elder branch of my family inhabits Auvergne, +where it owns estates that it owes to the sword of my ancestors, +Clovis' companions of war. My father left his castle of Plournel,<a name="page_129" id="page_129"></a> +situated near Nantes, to come to Nointel which reverted +to him upon my mother's death. He preferred the neighborhood +of Paris and of the court to that of savage Brittany. I am of +my father's opinion, and I do not expect ever to return to the +domains that I own in that region and which are governed by +my bailiffs."</p> + +<p>"I rely on your promise. The illustriousness of your house +makes me anxious to keep it near my court."</p> + +<p>"Sire, I shall return for a double reason. First of all to please +the Regent, and also to please my betrothed, the damosel of +Chivry, who much desires to see the court. But I must hasten +to leave Paris in order to collect the money for my own and +my friend's ransom. It is a large sum that we have to pay."</p> + +<p>"Then you were both taken by the English?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Sire," answered the knight of Chaumontel; "but seeing +that my casque and sword are my only property, Conrad, as +a loyal brother in arms, has taken it upon himself to pay for +me—"</p> + +<p>"Did the English set you free on parole? They are generous +enemies."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Sire," answered Conrad. "I was taken by the men of +the Duke of Norfolk, and he placed our ransom at six thousand +florins. But I said to him: 'If you retain me a prisoner, +my bailiff will never be able to raise from my vassals so large +a sum; the vigorous hand of their own seigneur is required to +seize so much money from those villeins; let me, therefore, +return to my domains, and on my faith as a Christian and a +knight I shall speedily bring to you the six thousand florins for +our ransom.'"</p> + +<p>"And the Englishman accepted?"</p> + +<p>"Without hesitation, Sire. Moreover, learning that my +seigniory was in Beauvoisis, he said to me: 'You will run in +that region across a certain bastard named Captain Griffith, +who for some time has been raiding the region of Beauvoisis with +his band.'"<a name="page_130" id="page_130"></a></p> + +<p>"That is so!" exclaimed one of the courtiers. "Fortunately, +however, the fortified castles of the seigneurs are protected from +the ravages of that chief of adventurers. He falls upon the plebs +of the open fields, and his bands put everything to fire and to the +sword. He is a savage warrior."</p> + +<p>"Well," resumed the Regent with a cruel smile, "let the +bourgeois who presume to govern in our stead stop these disasters!" +And turning to the Sire of Nointel: "But what has +that adventurer of a captain to do with your ransom?"</p> + +<p>"It is to him I am to deliver our ransom, together with a letter +that the Duke of Norfolk gave me for him."</p> + +<p>At this moment the marshal of Normandy, who had inclined +his head toward the window, interrupted Conrad, saying: "What +noise is that?... I hear near and approaching clamors."</p> + +<p>"Clamors!" cried the seigneur of Norville, "who would be so +impudent as to clamor in the vicinity of the King's palace? +Give the order, Sire, to punish the varlets."</p> + +<p>"It is not clamors merely, but threatening cries," put in the +marshal of Champagne running to the door which he opened, and +through which a wild outburst of furious imprecations penetrated +into the royal chamber. Almost at the same time an +officer of the palace ran in from the gallery. He was pale and +frightened, and came screaming: "Flee, Sire! The people +of Paris are invading the Louvre! They have disarmed your +guards!"</p> + +<p>"Stand by, my friends!" cried the Regent, livid with terror +and taking refuge in his bed, behind the curtains of which he +sought to hide himself. "Defend me!... The felons +mean to kill me!"</p> + +<p>At the first signal of danger, the marshals of Normandy and +Champagne, the same as a few other courtiers, resolutely drew +their swords. Conrad of Nointel and his friend the knight of +Chaumontel, however, guided by a valor that was tempered by +extreme prudence, searched with their eyes for some issue of +escape, while the seigneur of Norville, jumping upon the bed,<a name="page_131" id="page_131"></a> +tried to hide himself behind the same curtain with the Regent. +Suddenly another door, one facing that of the gallery, flew open, +and a large number of palace officers, prelates and seigneurs, +ran in helter-skelter, screaming: "The Louvre is invaded by +the people! Marcel is heading a band of murderers.... +Save the Regent!"</p> + +<p>These cries had hardly been uttered when the courtiers saw +Marcel, followed by a compact troop armed with pikes, axes and +cutlasses, appear at the other end of the gallery that communicated +with the royal apartment. These men, bourgeois +and artisans of Paris, uttered not a sound. Only their foot-falls +were heard on the stone slabs. The silence of the armed +crowd seemed more ominous than its previous clamors. At their +head marched the provost, calm, grave and resolute. A few +steps behind him came William Caillet armed with a pike, +Rufin the Tankard-smasher with a battle mace, and Jocelyn the +Champion with drawn sword. During the few seconds that it +took Marcel to cross the gallery, the distracted courtiers held a +sort of council in broken words. None of the confused and hasty +views prevailed. The Regent remained hidden behind the curtains +of his bed together with the seigneur of Norville. +Trembling and pale but kept from fleeing by a sense of self-respect, +the majority of the courtiers crowded back into the +furthest corner of the apartment, while the less scrupulous Conrad +of Nointel and his friend, having slid themselves near the +second door that led to another apartment, prudently took themselves +off.</p> + +<p>When he presented himself at the threshold of the royal chamber, +Marcel met there none to defend it besides the two marshals +who stood with drawn swords. Be it, however, that at that +supreme moment they felt imposed by the aspect of the provost, +or that they realized the uselessness of a struggle that meant +inevitable death to themselves, both lowered their swords.</p> + +<p>"Where is the Regent?" inquired Marcel in a loud and firm<a name="page_132" id="page_132"></a> +voice. "I wish to speak with him. He has nothing to fear from +the people."</p> + +<p>The accent of the provost was so sincere and the loyalty +of his word was so generally acknowledged, even by his enemies, +that yielding both to a sentiment of royal dignity and to the +confidence inspired by Marcel's words, the Regent came out +from behind the curtains, not a little encouraged at the same +time by the presence of the court people and the quiet demeanor +of the armed crowd that had invaded the Louvre.</p> + +<p>"Here I am," said the Regent taking a few steps toward +Marcel yet unable, despite his powers of dissimulation, to wholly +conceal the rage that had succeeded his fright. "What do you +want of me? The Regent waits to hear you!"</p> + +<p>Marcel turned towards the armed men who had followed +him and ordered them with a gesture to guard silence and not to +cross the threshold of the royal chamber which he now entered +alone. On the other hand, after a short and whispered consultation +with his courtiers, the Regent gradually regained composure +and addressed the provost in these words: "Your +audacity is great!... To enter my palace in arms!"</p> + +<p>"Sire! I have long been requesting an interview from you +by letters, and failed; I have been compelled to force open your +doors in order to make you hear, in the name of the country, +the language of sincere severity—"</p> + +<p>"To the point," broke in the Regent impatiently. "What do +you want? Speak!"</p> + +<p>"Sire! The people demand, first of all the loyal enforcement +of the reform ordinances which you have signed and +promulgated."</p> + +<p>"You are called the King of Paris," answered the Regent with +a caustic smile; "well, then, rule!... Save the country!"</p> + +<p>"Sire! The voice of the national assembly has been heard +in Paris and in some other large towns. But your partisans and +your officers, sovereign in their seigniories or in the domains +which they govern in your name, have banded themselves to<a name="page_133" id="page_133"></a> +prevent the execution of the laws upon which the safety of +Gaul depends. Such a state of things must promptly cease, +Sire!... Aye, very promptly. The people so wills it."</p> + +<p>The Regent turned to the group of prelates and seigneurs at +the head of whom stood the Marshal of Normandy; a hurried +council was again held by the courtiers who hastened around +their chief; and then returning to the provost, the Regent +answered haughtily: "Is that your only grievance? Let's hear +the rest!!"</p> + +<p>"We have imperative demands."</p> + +<p>"What else do you want?"</p> + +<p>"An act of justice and reparation, Sire! Perrin Macé, a +bourgeois of Paris, has been mutilated and then put to death +in defiance of right and of law by the order of some of your +courtiers.... The seigneur who ordered the execution of an +innocent man must be sentenced to death! It is the law of +retaliation."</p> + +<p>"By the cross of the Saviour!" cried the Regent. "You dare +come and demand of me the condemnation and execution of the +marshal of Normandy, my best friend!"</p> + +<p>"That man is causing your ruin with his detestable advice. +He shall expiate his crime."</p> + +<p>"Impudent scamp!" cried out the marshal of Normandy in +a fit of rage, threatening Marcel with his sword. "You have the +audacity to make charges against me!"</p> + +<p>"Not another word!" ordered the Regent interrupting his +favorite and beckoning him to lower his sword. "It is for me +to answer in this place. I order you, Master Marcel, to leave +this place, and upon the spot!"</p> + +<p>"Sire!" answered the provost with patronizing commiseration, +"you are young, my hairs are grey.... Your age is +impetuous, mine is calm.... I therefore have the right and +the duty to lecture to you. I beseech you in the name of the +country, in the name of your crown, to loyally fulfill your promises,<a name="page_134" id="page_134"></a> +and, however painful it may seem to you, to grant the +reparation that I demand in the name of justice. Prove in that +manner that, when the law is audaciously violated, you punish +the guilty, whatever his rank.... Sire! It is still time for +you to listen to the voice of equity!—"</p> + +<p>"And I tell you, Master Marcel," yelled the Regent furiously, +"that it is time, high time, to put an end to your insolent requests! +Be gone, instantly!"</p> + +<p>"Away with this varlet in rebellion against his King," cried +the courtiers, like the Regent re-assured and deceived by the +attitude of Marcel's armed escort, that remained mute and motionless, +and turning to them the marshal of Normandy called +out: "As to you, good people of Paris, who now regret the +criminal errand on which this bedeviled rebel has brought you +despite yourselves, join us, the true friends of your King, in +punishing the treason of this miserable Marcel.... Let his +blood fall upon himself!"</p> + +<p>The provost smothered a sigh of regret, stepped back a few +paces so as to place himself beyond the reach of the marshal's +sword, turned to his people and said: "Carry out the orders that +brought you here."</p> + +<p>These words were hardly uttered when Marcel's armed men, +anxious to make amends for the silence and prolonged restraint +imposed upon them by his orders, burst loose in an explosion of +cries of indignation and of threats that struck the Regent and +his courtiers with stupor and consternation. Rufin the Tankard-smasher +bolted upon the marshal of Normandy, seized him +by the collar and cried: "You had Perrin Macé mutilated and +hanged; now you shall be hanged! The gibbet is ready!"</p> + +<p>"And this for you, caitiff," responded the marshal, quick as +lightning transfixing the student's left arm with a thrust of his +sword. "The cord that is to hang me is not yet twisted."</p> + +<p>"No, but the iron that will smash you to death is forged, +my noble gentleman," answered the student dealing with his +mace a furious blow upon the marshal's head. "I have been<a name="page_135" id="page_135"></a> +Rufin the Tankard-smasher; now I am Rufin the Head-smasher!"</p> + +<p>The student spoke true. The marshal's skull was crushed; he +fell and expired at the Regent's feet bestaining with his blood +the latter's robe. During the tumult that ensued, the marshal +of Champagne rushed at Marcel dagger in hand. But William +Caillet, who had all the while been seeking with burning eyes +for the Sire of Nointel from among the brilliant bevy of courtiers, +threw himself in front of the provost ahead of Jocelyn, +who had darted forward with the same intention, and the old +peasant thrust his pike into the bowels of the marshal. The +corpse of the courtier rolled upon the floor. Popular vengeance +was taken.</p> + +<p>The other seigneurs and prelates, who had run to the royal +chamber, fled back distracted by the door that had admitted +them. When the Regent, who, fainting with terror, had crouched +back upon the bed with his face hidden in his hands, looked up +again, he found himself alone with Marcel and not far from the +prostrate corpses of his two councilors. Marcel's armed men had +slowly departed through the gallery together with Caillet, while +Jocelyn was engaged near a window in bandaging with his handkerchief +the wound of the student.</p> + +<p>Finally, protruding under the drapery of the bed behind which +he had held himself all the while motionless as a mouse, the feet +were seen of the seigneur of Norville, who had lacked even the +strength to flee.</p> + +<p>"Mercy, Master Marcel!" cried the Regent, trembling with +fear and throwing himself at Marcel's feet with arms outstretched +in supplication and his face in tears. "Do not kill +me; have pity upon me, my good father! Mercy!"</p> + +<p>"We have no thought of killing you," Marcel answered, painfully +touched by the suspicion; and stooping down to raise the +Regent added: "May my name be accursed if such a crime +ever entered my mind! Fear not, Sire! Rise! The people of +Paris are good."<a name="page_136" id="page_136"></a></p> + +<p>"Oh, my good father! I beg your pardon on my knees +for having ignored your wise counsels and listened to bad advisers." +Breaking out into sobs, the young prince added, +wringing his hands in despair: "Oh, good God! Alone and so +young to be far away from my father, who is held a prisoner, +is it any fault of mine if I placed confidence in the men around +me?" The Regent's eyes fell upon the corpses of the two marshals. +In heart-rending accents he proceeded: "There they are, +the men who misled me! They loved me! They knew me since +my cradle! But, like myself, they were blind in their error. +Oh, good father! Reproach me not for weeping over the fate +of these unfortunate men. It is my last adieu to them," and still +on his knees, the Regent crouched lower, his face in his hands and +continued sobbing—with rage, not repentance.</p> + +<p>Although long made acquainted by experience with the Regent's +profound duplicity—a degree of duplicity almost incredible +at so tender an age—Marcel was deceived by what seemed +the sincerity of the young man's distressful accent. His touching +prayer, his tears, the sorrow which he did not fear to express +at the death of his two councilors—all combined to induce the +belief that, frightened by the terrible reprisals that had taken +place under his own eyes, the Regent was sincerely contrite at +his errors, and that, convinced at last regarding his own interests, +which commanded him to break with the evil past, he +now really desired to march on the straight path. Marcel congratulated +himself on the happy change, and said to Jocelyn in +a low voice: "Order our people away from the gallery. Let +them leave the palace and assemble under the large window +of the Louvre. You and Rufin may stay with me. I shall take +the Regent out of this chamber. The sight of the corpses is too +painful to him."</p> + +<p>Jocelyn and the student executed the orders of Marcel. +Crouching on the floor the Regent did not cease moaning and +sobbing. The seigneur of Norville left his hiding place without<a name="page_137" id="page_137"></a> +being noticed by the prince, and approaching him on tip-toe whispered +in his ear: "Sire, the most faithful of all your servitors +is happy of having braved a thousand dangers and deaths sooner +than to leave you alone with these bandits and rebels. Allow +me, my noble and dear master, to help you to rise."</p> + +<p>The Regent obeyed mechanically, and noticing that Marcel, +who was just giving his instructions to Jocelyn and Rufin, could +neither see nor hear him, he whispered back to Norville: "Do +not leave me. Watch for a moment when I can speak to you +without being seen by anybody"; observing thereupon that Marcel +was again approaching, while the champion and Rufin both +left the room, he uttered a piteous moan, turned to the corpses +of the two marshals and muttered in a smothered voice: "Adieu, +oh, you who loved me and whose sad errors I shared. May God +receive you in his Paradise!"</p> + +<p>"Come, Sire, come," said Marcel with kindness, leading the +Regent to the gallery; "come, lean upon me!"</p> + +<p>The seigneur of Norville followed the prince from whom he +did not take his eyes and said to the provost in an undertone: +"Oh, Master Marcel! Be the protector, the tutor of my poor +young master.... He always had a tender feeling for +you!"</p> + +<p>"Now, Sire," Marcel said to the Regent after they had gone +a little way, "I place confidence in your promise ... I believe +in the salutary effect of the terrible example you witnessed. +Oh, these painful extremes; but violence fatedly engenders violence!... +It now depends upon you, Sire, to prevent +the recurrence of similar acts of reprisal. Give the example of +respect for the law. All will then look to the law instead +of resorting to force, the last recourse of men when they have +vainly invoked justice! The present moment is decisive. If +you should still belie our hopes ... our new hopes; if unfortunately +it should be shown to us that you are incapable or +unworthy of ruling under the watchful and severe vigilance<a name="page_138" id="page_138"></a> +of the States General, elected by the nation herself, I tell you +sincerely, Sire, the people, finding their patience exhausted, and +impatient of further deceit, sufferings, disasters and misery, +might respect your life, but they would then choose another +King who shall be more thoughtful of the public weal.... +You will then cease to reign."</p> + +<p>"Oh, good father! Why threaten me! I am a poor young +man, and am at your mercy. Have pity upon me!"</p> + +<p>"Sire! I do not threaten you. Far from me be such cruelty! +I only place things before you such as they are. It depends upon +you to help towards the public safety."</p> + +<p>"Speak, speak, good father.... I shall obey you as a +most respectful son, I swear to you upon my salvation.... +Moreover, you shall be my only councilor.... Speak, what +do you order?"</p> + +<p>"The people are assembled before the Louvre.... They +are informed of the death of the marshal of Normandy.... +Show yourself at the window.... Say a few good words +to the crowd.... Announce plainly your good resolves.... +Declare that the cause of the people is above all yours +... and here, Sire," added Marcel, taking off his hat and +offering it to the Regent, "as a token of our alliance, good will +and harmony, wear my hat with the popular colors. The inhabitants +of Paris will be pleased at this first proof of condescension +and agreement."</p> + +<p>"Give it to me.... Give it to me," the Regent said with +avidity, hastening to don Marcel's hat of red and blue. "A friend +like you, my good father ... only such a friend could give +me such an advice.... Open the window; I wish to speak +to my well beloved people of Paris," added the Regent addressing +the seigneur of Norville, who having held himself at a distance +during the conversation of Marcel and the prince, now again +drew near as ordered. "Open the window wide," said the prince.</p> + +<p>"Jocelyn," observed Rufin in a low voice to the champion while +the Regent, slowly moving towards the window that the seigneur<a name="page_139" id="page_139"></a> +of Norville hastened to open, seemed to be consulting Marcel, +"what do you think of the good resolutions of that youngster?"</p> + +<p>"Like Master Marcel, I believe him sincere. Not that I trust +in the heart of that royal stripling, but because it is to his interest +to follow wise counsel."</p> + +<p>"Hm! Hm! To me it looks as if he is playing a comedy. A +prince's word is poor guarantee."</p> + +<p>"Do you imagine the Regent is so double-faced or so foolish as +to try to deceive Master Marcel?"</p> + +<p>"As true as Homer is the king of rhapsodists, never was my +wench Margot about to play me some scurvy trick without she +called me her 'musk-rat,' her 'beautiful king,' her 'gold canary,' +and other names no less flattering than deceitful."</p> + +<p>"But what connection is there between Margot and the Regent? +Quit your fooling!"</p> + +<p>"Listen to me to the end. I happen to have an assignment with +her for this evening near the Louvre, on the river bank, because +by what she says, her friend Jeannette does not want to see me +at her house. Very well. I swear by Ovid, the poet beloved of +Cupid, Margot acted the gentle puss and induced me to go and +inhale the mists of the Seine simply because she had made up +her mind to go elsewhere this evening."</p> + +<p>"Rufin, let's talk seriously!"</p> + +<p>"Seriously, Jocelyn. I fear that the promises of the Regent +are like those of Margot! I can assure you, much as the sword +thrust I received smarts me devilishly, I would have preferred +having pocketed one more in return for having settled the accounts +of that puling youngster as I did the accounts of the +marshal of Normandy."</p> + +<p>"Come, now! Those are excesses worthy only of John Maillart.... +But, by the way, did he accompany us hither?"</p> + +<p>"No. After he had, despite all your and Marcel's entreaties, +driven a few miserable brutes to massacre Master Dubreuil when +he crossed our march on his mule, Maillart disappeared. I place<a name="page_140" id="page_140"></a> +no reliance on him. Heaven and earth! That murder was deplorable! +The marshals of Normandy and Champagne were +enough——"</p> + +<p>"Listen!" cried Jocelyn interrupting his friend, and pointing +to the Regent, who, having advanced to the balcony, was addressing +the people gathered on the street.</p> + +<p>"Beloved inhabitants of my good city of Paris," the Regent was +saying in a moved and tearful voice, "I appear before you firmly +resolved to make amends for my wrongful conduct. I swear by +these colors that are your own, and that henceforth will be mine," +he added, carrying his hand to the red and blue hat he wore on +his head. "The marshal of Normandy, one of my councilors, unjustly +ordered the execution of Perrin Macé, an honest bourgeois +of Paris. The marshal has just been put to death. May that +reparation satisfy you, dear and good Parisians! Let us forget +our dissensions; let us join in a common accord for the country's +good.... Let us love one another! Let us help one another! +I admit my errors! Will you pardon them? Oh, I am +so young! Evil councilors led me astray. But I shall henceforth +have only one.... That councilor ... here he +is!" and the Regent, turning towards Marcel, added: "Good inhabitants +of Paris, receive this embrace which I now give you +from the bottom of my heart in the person of the great citizen +whom we all cherish, whom we all venerate." While pronouncing +these last words, the young prince threw himself weeping into +the arms of the provost and pressed him to his breast,—the embrace +of rulers, a mortal caress!</p> + +<p>At the touching spectacle, the enthusiastic clamors of the +mobile and credulous mass resounded loud, and prolonged cries +of "Long live Marcel!" "Long live the Regent!" "To a happy +issue!" greeted the reconciliation as a happy augury of the +future.</p> + +<p>Profoundly moved himself, Marcel said to the Regent upon returning +with him into the gallery: "Sire, full of hope and of<a name="page_141" id="page_141"></a> +confidence, the people acclaimed with their joyous cries an era +of peace, of justice, of grandeur and of prosperity. Do not shatter +so many hopes. Good is so easy for you to achieve! It is so +beautiful to bequeath to posterity a glorious name, blessed by +all."</p> + +<p>"My good father!" answered the Regent, panting for breath, +"my eyes have been opened to the light; my heart expands.... I am reborn for a new life.... You shall not leave +me to-day; only to-night if you must.... Let's go to work.... +Let us jointly take prompt, energetic measures.... +Oh! Your wishes shall be realized.... I shall bequeath +to posterity a name blessed by all.... Come, my good +father!" and passing his arm around the neck of Marcel with +filial familiarity, the young man took a few steps with him +in the gallery towards his cabinet. But suddenly stopping, he +added in the most natural manner, as if struck by a thought: +"Oh, I forgot!" He then left Marcel and stepped back towards +the seigneur of Norville, whom he called. The latter hastened +to respond and the Regent whispered to him: "This evening, +at nightfall, let a vessel manned with two trusty sailors be ready +for me just outside the barrier facing the postern gate of the +Louvre.... Gather all my gold and precious stones in a +coffer, and keep yourself ready to accompany me. Prudence and +discretion!"</p> + +<p>"Sire, rely upon me!"</p> + +<p>"Well, Jocelyn," said Marcel to the champion during the secret +conversation of the Regent and his courtier, "you see it.... +My hopes have not been deceived.... The lesson was terrible +and salutary. Return home and tell Marguerite that I +do not expect to be back until late. I wish to profit on the spot +by the young man's repentance. He and I will probably work together +a part of the night."</p> + +<p>"Pardon me, my good father," said the Regent to the provost, +returning to him; "we shall doubtlessly be up late together, and<a name="page_142" id="page_142"></a> +I wished to notify the Queen that I may not see her again to-day"; +and again placing his arm around Marcel's neck he said to +him while walking towards the cabinet: "Now, to work! Good +father, to work! And quickly!"</p> + +<p>Thus, followed by the seigneur of Norville, the two quitted +the gallery, from which also Jocelyn and Rufin took their departure +together.</p> + +<p>"After what you have just heard," remarked the champion to +the student, "can you still entertain any doubts concerning the +Regent's sincerity? Do you still believe he plays a comedy?"</p> + +<p>"Do you remember, Jocelyn, that at the University we were +in the habit of taking aim with a stone saying: 'If my stone hits, +my first wish will be realized?'"</p> + +<p>"Rufin!" sadly answered the champion, "since on my arrival +in Paris I learned of my father's death, I have lost my sense +of humor. As I said to you before, I say now, let us talk seriously, +my friend."</p> + +<p>"I would not, my worthy Jocelyn, seem to make light of your +bereavement; and yet, out of place as my words may seem, they +are, by Jupiter, to the point! All I shall say is this: Day before +yesterday, my wench Margot gave me, with a good many +monkey tricks and pussy purrings, an assignment at the river +bank. If Margot is faithful to her promise, I shall then believe +the Regent to be sincere in his good resolves; not before."</p> + +<p>"The devil take the fool!" said Jocelyn impatiently and he +walked away ahead of Rufin, who pensively said to himself: +"My friend Rufin the Head smasher, you are become as much of +a fatalist as a Mohamedan! That's a shameful thing for a free +thinker!"<a name="page_143" id="page_143"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_VIII-b" id="CHAPTER_VIII-b"></a>CHAPTER VIII.<br /><br /> +THE HOUR HAS SOUNDED!</h3> + +<p>Marcel had not yet arrived home although night was far advanced. +Marguerite, Denise and William Caillet were seated together +in one of the upper chambers of the house. The two +women listened with wrapt and grief-stricken attention to the +narrative of Jocelyn who had just finished the story of Aveline +and Mazurec.</p> + +<p>"Delivered from the dungeon in the castle of Beaumont, thanks +to the bizarre generosity of Captain Griffith," the champion was +saying, "I hastened to Paris, and at my arrival," added the young +man unable to contain his tears, "I learned of the death of my +venerated father."</p> + +<p>"Ah! At least he loved you with his last breath," said Denise +sharing the emotions of Jocelyn. "Your father came here almost +every day, and we only spoke of you."</p> + +<p>"Let that thought console you, Jocelyn," observed Marguerite. +"Your father considered you an exemplary son."</p> + +<p>"I know it, Dame Marguerite; and the thought does afford me +some consolation in my bereavement. Before dying my father +gave me a proof of the confidence he placed in my respect and affection. +He made an important revelation."</p> + +<p>"On what?" asked Marguerite.</p> + +<p>"I told you of the profound interest that Mazurec inspired +me with, Mazurec, the husband of Caillet's daughter," answered +Jocelyn with deep emotion. "Well, then, after the last revelation +made by my father, I can doubt no longer that Mazurec is +my brother!"</p> + +<p>"Are you certain?" Marguerite and Denise cried in one +voice. "That unfortunate lad, that martyr, your brother!"<a name="page_144" id="page_144"></a></p> + +<p>"Is it possible?" asked Caillet in turn and no less astonished. +"How do you know it?"</p> + +<p>"When my mother died," explained Jocelyn, "I was a child +and my father quite young. One evening, some four or five +years later, as he was entering Paris, he found on the road a +young peasant woman lying on the ground unconscious and +bleeding of a wound. Moved by compassion, he raised and +carried her to a neighboring inn. The young woman regained +consciousness and informed him that she was a vassal of the +Bishop of Paris, and that, having lost her mother since early +childhood, she was then fleeing from a merciless step-mother +who that same day came near killing her. The young woman +was named Gervaise. Touched by her youth, her misfortune +and her beauty, my father apprenticed her to a washerwoman +who lived near us. He often visited his protegé. Both loved +each other, and one day Gervaise informed my father that she +carried under her heart the fruit of their joint indiscretion. +My father, as an honest man, realized his duty, but being at that +season forced to leave Paris on a trip, promised Gervaise under +oath to marry her upon his return. Several weeks, a month and +two passed by and my father did not return—"</p> + +<p>"But he was a man incapable of violating a sacred promise," +interjected Marguerite. "During the long years that we knew +your father, we learned to appreciate the straightforwardness of +his nature and the goodness of his heart. Undoubtedly some +serious accident must have kept him away."</p> + +<p>"Almost at the end of his journey, my father was attacked +by a band of highwaymen. He was robbed, wounded and left +for dead on the road."</p> + +<p>"And that prevented him from communicating with Gervaise?"</p> + +<p>"He was picked up and for a long time he languished between +life and death. The unhappy woman thought herself deserted.<a name="page_145" id="page_145"></a> +The consequences of her error began to betray her weakness. +A prey to shame and despair she left Paris!"</p> + +<p>"Her condition should have earned the sympathy of people."</p> + +<p>"Barely convalescent, my father hastened to write to Gervaise +announcing his speedy return. But when he arrived she +had disappeared. Despite all the inquiries that he instituted, he +never succeeded in finding her again. Her disappearance was a +great sorrow to him, and remorse haunted him the rest of his +days. Such was his confession in a letter that he wrote to me +shortly before his death, and in which he conjured me, if by +some accident, impossible to foresee, I should meet Gervaise or +her child, to atone for the injury that he had involuntarily done +to both."</p> + +<p>"And thus, thanks to a strange coincidence," observed Marguerite, +"you now feel certain that the unhappy Mazurec, whose +distressing story you have told us, is indeed your brother?"</p> + +<p>"I can have no doubt. After leaving Paris, Gervaise arrived +in Beauvoisis begging for her bread, shortly before giving birth +to Mazurec, and he himself told me that his mother's name was +Gervaise; that she was blonde; that her eyes were black, and that +she had a little scar above the left eye-brow. The description +corresponds exactly with that which my father left me of the +poor creature. The scar came from a blow that she received +from her step-mother. Finally, by naming her son Mazurec, +one of my father's names, the poor woman furnished the last +link to the chain of evidence."</p> + +<p>"Your father was at least saved a bitter sorrow," remarked +Denise sadly, "of never having learned the horrible fate of Gervaise's +son."</p> + +<p>Steps were at that moment heard mounting the stairs. Marguerite +listened attentively, and quickly rising and stepping to +the door exclaimed: "It is Marcel! God be praised!" and turning +in a low voice to Denise who had followed her: "I could<a name="page_146" id="page_146"></a> +hardly conceal my uneasiness; my husband's late absence was +seriously alarming me. May God be praised for his return!"</p> + +<p>The provost entered, and after answering the tender caresses +of his wife and niece, said to them: "I suppose you think I am +tired of the night at work with the Regent, yet never have I +felt so easy in mind and so light of heart. Happiness is such a +sweet recreation! I was profoundly happy to see that young man +return to the path of duty and equity as if by enchantment, +and express regret at his errors, and promise to atone for them. +Well was I in the right to say that we must never despair of +youth."</p> + +<p>"Then, my friend," asked Marguerite, "the Regent did not +deceive your last hopes?"</p> + +<p>"He went beyond them. We have just taken prompt and +energetic measures looking to the realization of the just and +fruitful reforms that were enacted last year by the national +assembly. We shall now appeal to the nation's courage and devotion +to put an end to the disastrous war with the English. +We are to call, not upon the nobility only, but upon the whole +people—peasants, townsmen and artisans—to take up arms in +this holy war. That great triumph is to be the signal for the +deliverance of our rustic brothers," added Marcel reaching out his +hand to Caillet. "Yes, those who will have gloriously vanquished +and chased away the enemy, having become free men by their +victory, are for ever after to be free from the tyranny of the +seigneurs who have not even known how to protect our native +country. Oh, my friend, how many agonies and sufferings +does not that hope wipe off from my heart and mind! The +hope of seeing Gaul at last victorious and free, peaceful and +prosperous!"</p> + +<p>"Master Marcel! Treason!... Treason!" suddenly resounded +from a voice rushing up the stairs. The provost held<a name="page_147" id="page_147"></a> +his breath, all others in the chamber trembled with fear, and +Rufin the Tankard-smasher rushed in breathless, repeating: +"Treason!... Master Marcel, treason!"</p> + +<p>"Who betrays?" cried Jocelyn. "Speak!"</p> + +<p>"Do you remember this morning at the Louvre?" answered +Rufin. "I told you then that if Margot, my wench, keeps the +appointment she made with me, I shall then believe in the sincerity +of the Regent, but not before!"</p> + +<p>"Young man," put in Marcel with severity, seeing his wife +and niece blush at the amorous confidences of the student, "is +it for the purpose of cracking bad jokes that you have come to +alarm my household?"</p> + +<p>"The news I bring will be an apology, Master Marcel," respectfully +answered Rufin mopping his forehead that streamed +with perspiration; "the Regent has fled from Paris...."</p> + +<p>"The Regent has fled!" cried Marcel stupefied. "Impossible! +It is hardly half an hour since I was with him."</p> + +<p>"And that is less time than he needed to descend from the +Louvre, to go out by the postern gate that opens upon the river +outside of the barrier and to jump upon a skiff that was waiting +for him!"</p> + +<p>"You are dreaming!" replied Jocelyn, while Marcel seemed +thunderstruck, unable to understand what he heard. "You are +dreaming, my gay Rufin, or you have just left some tavern +the fumes of whose wine have upset your mind."</p> + +<p>"By Bacchus, the god of wine, and by Morpheus, the god of +slumbers!" cried the student, "I am as certain that I am wide +awake as that I am not drunk! I saw the Regent with my +two eyes step into the vessel, and with my two ears I heard the +Regent say to the friend who accompanied him: 'I leave this +accursed town, and I swear not to set foot in it again until Marcel, +the councilmen and the other chiefs of rebels shall have +paid with their heads for their insolent audacity and for the +revolt of these accursed Parisians.' Is that clear enough?<a name="page_148" id="page_148"></a> +Moreover, would I dare come here and tell yarns to Master +Marcel, whom I admire and respect as much as any one could? +And above all when, in the teeth of the privileges of the University, +he had me housed at the Chatelet, together with my chum +Nicholas the Thin-skinned because of the racket we made one +night on the street?" Noticing that despite certain irrelevant +details of his report, the people in the chamber began to attach +faith to his words, Rufin continued, while Marcel seemed racked +with painful astonishment and a prey to overpowering indignation: +"As I was telling you, I had an assignation with my +wench Margot, on the river bank, outside the barriers. Tired +of waiting in vain for this fallacious creature, I was about to +leave when I perceived a lighted lantern on the other side +of the barrier and just under the postern of the Louvre. Knowing +as well as anybody that the vaulted corridor of that issue +runs out on one of the stairs of the large tower, a suspicion +flashed through my mind. The night was silent. At the risk +of drowning and of going to Pluto to meet Margot, only this +time on the borders of the Styx, I reached the stairs by clambering +along the poles and the chain of the barriers. At that moment +the bearer of the lantern, who must have meant to make +sure that the vessel was there, re-entered the palace. I slid +along the wall of the Louvre up to the postern and there, +screened by the gate which was left open, I soon heard a voice +saying: 'Come, come, Sire; the vessel and the two boats are near +the shore.' At which the Regent answered in the way I have +just stated to Master Marcel—'I leave the accursed town, and I +swear not to set foot in it again until Marcel, the councilmen +and the other chiefs of rebels shall have paid with their heads +for their insolent audacity and for the revolt of these accursed +Parisians.' The Regent and his companion marched quietly to +the bank of the river, and soon the sound of oars told me +that the boat was leaving rapidly. It vanished in the darkness +of the night." Turning to Jocelyn with a triumphant air, the<a name="page_149" id="page_149"></a> +student remarked: "Well, what did I tell you this morning? +You took me for a fool! And now you see the Regent has +fled from Paris threatening the inhabitants with vengeance! By +the bowels of the Pope! The belief in fatalism is a great +thing!"</p> + +<p>Learning that Marcel was now running fresh dangers, Marguerite +exchanged glances of anxiety with Denise, while seeking +to conceal her alarm from her husband lest she increased his +worries. On the other hand, foreseeing that the Regent's treason +would hasten the uprising of the rustic serfs, Caillet shrugged +his shoulders with sinister gladness. Finally, Marcel, with his +arms crossed upon his breast, his head lowered, his lips contracted +with a bitter smile, broke the silence with these words uttered +deliberately: "When we parted the Regent said to me: 'My +good father, I beseech you, go and take a little rest; night is +falling; I desire to-morrow early to renew our work with fresh +ardor. Go and take rest, my good father, and you will enjoy +as much as myself the restful sleep that will come to us from +knowledge of having done right.' Such were the last words I +had from that young man."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Marcel," said Marguerite, "how will you not regret the +confidence you placed in him!"</p> + +<p>"Let us never regret having had faith in the repentance of a +man. If we do, we shall become merciless. Moreover, there are +treasons so black and monstrous that in order to suspect them +one must be almost capable of committing them." After another +short interval of contemplative silence Marcel resumed: "I +hoped to save Gaul fresh bloodshed! Vain hope! That unhappy +fool wants war! How much is he not to be pitied for being so +ill-advised!"</p> + +<p>"You pity him!" cried Marguerite; "and yet his last words +threatened you with death!"</p> + +<p>"Dear wife; if my head were all that was at stake, I would +not enter into a terrible struggle to preserve it. I have achieved<a name="page_150" id="page_150"></a> +things that sooner or later will bear fruit. My share in this +world has been handsome and large. I am ready to quit life. +It is not my head that I would dispute to the Regent, it is the +lives of our councilmen, it is the lives of a mass of our fellow +townsmen, all of them menaced by the merciless revenge of the +court! What I wish to defend is our freedom so dearly bought +by our fathers; what I wish to secure is the enfranchisement +of those millions of serfs who are driven to extremities by the +tyranny of the seigneurs. Finally, what I aim at is the welfare +of Gaul, to-day exhausted and moribund! The dice are cast. +The Regent and seigneurs want war! They shall have war!... a terrible war!... Such a war as human memory +does not recall!" Saying this, Marcel sat down at a table and +rapidly wrote a few lines upon a parchment.</p> + +<p>"No!" replied William Caillet in a tremor of rage. "No; +never will that have been seen that will be seen now! Up, +Jacques Bonhomme!" cried the old peasant in savage exaltation. +"Up! Seize the fagot! Fall to! Take in the harvest, +Jacques Bonhomme, and be not dainty about it! Take up your +scythe in your bare arms—the short and sharp scythe! Let not +a blade be left to be gleaned after you!" and reaching out +his trembling hand to Marcel, the serf added: "Adieu, I depart +well satisfied. By to-morrow evening I shall be in the country. +At dawn of the next day Jacques Bonhomme will be up +and doing in Beauvoisis, in Picardy, in Laonnais and in many +other districts!"</p> + +<p>"Postpone your departure just one hour," answered Marcel +while sealing the letter he had just written. "I am going to +the Louvre. You shall depart at my return."</p> + +<p>"My friend," exclaimed Marguerite in alarm, "what do you +want at the Louvre?"</p> + +<p>"To make certain of the Regent's departure, although the +account given by Rufin leaves me no doubt on that head. I<a name="page_151" id="page_151"></a> +wish, before resorting to terrible extremes, to be absolutely certain +of the Regent's treason."</p> + +<p>As Marcel was uttering the last words, Agnes the Bigot entered +precipitately and delivered to her master a letter that one +of the town sergeants had just brought in great haste. Marcel +took the letter, read it quickly and cried: "The councilmen +have assembled at the town hall and expect me. One of them, +instructed by a man connected with the palace on the flight of +the Regent, ran to the Louvre, assured himself of the fact, and +hastily convoked the council. No doubt now. The Regent's +treason is confirmed." Delivering to Jocelyn the letter he had +just written, Marcel said to him: "Take horse, and carry +this letter to the King of Navarre at St. Denis. Wait for no +answer."</p> + +<p>"I shall jump on your horse's crupper, Jocelyn," cried Caillet. +"I shall that way reach the country a few hours sooner."</p> + +<p>"Done!" said the champion; and turning to Marcel: "After +I shall have delivered your letter to the King of Navarre, I shall +pursue my route with Caillet to join by brother Mazurec."</p> + +<p>"It is your duty, go!" answered Marcel stretching his arms +out to Jocelyn. "Embrace me. Who knows whether we shall +ever again meet!" And after having pressed the champion to +his breast, he took the hand of Denise who turned away her +head to hide her tears, and added: "Whatever may befall me, +Denise shall be your wife upon your return; you could have +no worthier mate, nor could she choose a worthier husband; +may heaven grant that I assist at your wedding. If later any +danger should threaten you, you will find a safe retreat in Lorraine +at Vaucouleurs with the relatives of my niece."</p> + +<p>Breaking out into tears and almost fainting, but supported +by Marguerite, Denise stretched out her hand to Jocelyn who +covered it with kisses, while Marcel said to Caillet: "Now, the<a name="page_152" id="page_152"></a> +hour has sounded! To arms, Jacques Bonhomme! Peasants, +artisans, townsmen, all for each! Each for all! To the happy +issue of the good cause!"</p> + +<p>"To the happy issue of the good cause!" rejoined the serf +shaking with impatience. "To an evil issue the cause of the +seigneurs and their clergy! Up, Jacques Bonhomme! War +upon the castles!"</p> + +<p>"And I," cried the student addressing Caillet while Marcel +was giving his last instructions to Jocelyn, "I also will accompany +you. I have shins of steel to tire out a horse. I shall ride +ahead of Jocelyn's steed. To a happy issue the good cause! +I represent the alliance of the University with the rustic folks. +Rufin the Tankard-smasher was my name of peace; Rufin the +Head-smasher becomes my name of war! And by the god Sylvanus, +the genius of the fields and forests, I shall make havoc +in this sylvan war! Forward! Forward!..."</p> + +<p>A few minutes later William Caillet departed from Marcel's +domicile accompanied by the champion and the student, all three +bound for Beauvoisis.<a name="page_153" id="page_153"></a></p> + +<h2><a name="PART_III" id="PART_III"></a>PART III.<br /><br /> +THE JACQUERIE.</h2> + +<p><a name="page_154" id="page_154"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_I-c" id="CHAPTER_I-c"></a>CHAPTER I.<br /><br /> +CAPTAIN GRIFFITH AND HIS CHAPLAIN.</h3> + +<p>The morning after William Caillet, Jocelyn the Champion +and Rufin the Tankard-smasher left Paris, a band of English +adventurers, commanded by Captain Griffith, and who for some +time had been raiding the region of Beauvoisis, was marching +under a balmy May sun in the direction of the village of Cramoisy. +The men, about a hundred all told, and armed with +weapons of different descriptions, marched in disorder with the +exception of about fifty archers who carried on their shoulders +their six-feet-long ash bows, a favorite weapon with the English, +and which they handled with such dexterity that at the battle +of Poitiers ten thousand of them were enough to put to rout +the army of King John, consisting of more than forty thousand +men commanded by the élite of the French nobility.</p> + +<p>Several empty carts, hitched to horses and oxen and led by +peasants who had been pressed into Captain Griffith's band under +pain of death, were intended for the prospective booty. The +English sold to the contiguous towns the proceeds of their +thefts from the castles, as well as the droves of cattle that they +took from the fields. In these towns the raiders were certain +of purchasers for the sufficient reason that whoever refused +was hanged on the spot. Captain Griffith affected a lordly generosity +towards his customers in consenting to leave with them +the spoils of his thieving exploits in exchange for moneys that it +was in his power to rob them of. In his quality of the bastard +of a great lord, the Duke of Norfolk, he prided himself of +acting courteously, "as a true Englishman," according to his favorite +phrase, and not scurvily like so many other leaders of mercenary +bands.<a name="page_155" id="page_155"></a></p> + +<p>Captain Griffith—a man in the full vigor of his age, robust +and corpulent, and with hair and beard of a reddish blonde—rode +at the head of his archers, the élites of his troop. Although +in full armor, he had hung his casque on the pommel of his +saddle, and now wore on his head a bonnet of fox-skin. Boldness, +incontinence and a sort of cruel joviality stood out from the +features of the Englishman that wore a rubicund tint from +the potations and meats that he was in the habit of swallowing +in enormous quantities. The morning air having sharpened +his appetite, if ever it can be said to have been satisfied, the +bastard of Norfolk was picking a ham, and from time to time +lovingly resorted to a wine pouch that also hung from the +pommel of his saddle. At his side rode his lieutenant, whom +with impious mockery he styled his "Chaplain." Guilty of all +the crimes on the calendar, Captain Griffith took, like Rolf the +Norman pirate before him, a diabolical delight in all manner of +sacrilege.</p> + +<p>The Chaplain, a hulky scamp with a toper's face and as vigorous +of bone as his Captain, wore under his iron coat of mail +a monk's gown and on his head a steel helmet.</p> + +<p>"My son," said he to the bastard of Norfolk, "without meaning +to offend you, I shall have to call your attention to the fact +that this is the third time you put your wine pouch to your +mouth without offering your brother in Beelzebub to quench his +thirst."</p> + +<p>"What have you eaten, Chaplain, to make you so thirsty?"</p> + +<p>"By the devil! I have been eating with my eyes the ham +that you have been devouring with your teeth."</p> + +<p>"Why, then, quench your thirst by seeing me drink! Your +health, friend!"</p> + +<p>"Sacrilege! To refuse wine to a thirsty chaplain! I would +prefer, for the sake of your salvation, to see you again journey a +whole day on a stretch in a chariot drawn by St. Patrick, the +abbot, and his 'chapter.'"</p> + +<p>"Pshaw!" hissed Griffith; "there were relays."<a name="page_156" id="page_156"></a></p> + +<p>"True, several relays, each of twelve monks, and they were successively +hitched. It was in your favor."</p> + +<p>"There, devil's Chaplain, drink! Drink to my amorous exploits!"</p> + +<p>After having kept for a seemingly interminable time his lips +glued to the orifice of the pouch that the Captain had passed +over to him, the Chaplain detached them for a moment, not so +much for the purpose of answering his worthy chief as for the +purpose of taking breath. Breathing heavily, he asked: "What +amorous exploits? Sacred or profane ones?" and then proceeded +to quaff.</p> + +<p>"I mean that winsome tavern-keeper, who escaped us at the +pillage of the little town of Nointel. Since that day, the pretty +ankles of the brunette have not ceased trotting in my brain. +As sure as I am Norfolk's bastard," added the Captain while the +Chaplain continued to drain the contents of the pouch at long +draughts, "there are two things that I would sell my soul to +Beelzebub for. First, to snatch up that luscious tavern-keeper, +second to fight with that tall scamp whom we released from the +dungeons of Beaumont. He was then but a bag of bones, but +when he will have been fatted up, I would wager your neck, +Chaplain, that there is not the likes of him in this whole poltroon +country of Gaul. I am tired of seeing only puny knights +at the point of my lance whom I run down as if they were nine-pins. +What a set of cowards these French noblemen are!"</p> + +<p>At this point, the lieutenant, who had never ceased drinking, +emitted a long gurgling sound, while with his free hand he +pointed to a small troop of armed foot-men headed by a rider, +and who pursued a route that somewhat led away from that of +the English, but that ran out upon the same clearance at the +top of a hill. The rider who led the foot-men, ordered a halt, +and galloping over the meadow approached the English troop +with his right hand up as a sign that he had no hostile intentions. +Fearing, nevertheless, some ambuscade, Captain Griffith also ordered +his troop to halt, but he placed his archers in line, donned<a name="page_157" id="page_157"></a> +his casque, took his long stout lance from the hands of one of his +men, and seeing the Chaplain still clinging to the pouch of wine +struck it from his lips with so dexterous a lance thrust that, +slightly grazing the drinker's nose, the weapon hurled the pouch +ten paces off. "You have watered quite enough!" he said with +a gruff laugh.</p> + +<p>"Fortunately the pouch is now empty," said the Chaplain +wiping his mouth with the back of his right hand; "not a drop +has been lost."</p> + +<p>The unknown rider approached the while, but suddenly reined +in seeing the archers, as was their wont before shooting their +bolts, plant their left feet in the center of their bows in order to +bend them.</p> + +<p>"I come as a friend!"</p> + +<p>"Who are you?" demanded the bastard of Norfolk. "What do +you want?"</p> + +<p>"I am the bailiff of the Sire of Nointel, the seigneur of these +domains. I wish to speak with the valiant Captain Griffith."</p> + +<p>"I am he.... What do you want?"</p> + +<p>"Sir, is it you who have just pillaged the burgs and villages of +our seigneur, the Sire of Nointel?"</p> + +<p>"Would you, perchance, want to prevent me?"</p> + +<p>"On the contrary, Sir; I have come in the name of my seigneur +to offer you the advice of my old experience in order to help +you to collect ransom from these villeins. Jacques Bonhomme +is a wily customer; he has hiding places where he keeps his coin +under shelter, and even provisions and cattle."</p> + +<p>"Chaplain," the Captain broke in upon the bailiff, "we shall +have to cut the ears of this fellow who comes here to mock us. +Draw your cutlass and give him absolution for his sins."</p> + +<p>"Sir, listen to me, and you will be convinced that I am not +joking!" cried the bailiff. "Are you the son of the Duke of +Norfolk?"<a name="page_158" id="page_158"></a></p> + +<p>"A bastard son by my mother's virtue. But seeing she bestowed +upon me a good fist, good eyes and good teeth I hold her +quits. I remain noble from one side."</p> + +<p>"The Duke your father knows that you hold the field in this +region, and he is charmed with your prowesses. He wrote so to +my master."</p> + +<p>"A short time ago, on the occasion of one of my archers' return +to Guyenne, I wrote to my father: 'My lord, in your life +you gave me nothing but a kick with your left foot which I +still feel; but I am none the less your affectionate bastard who +is doing havoc in Gaul and who signs himself—Captain Griffith.'"</p> + +<p>"Sir," said the bailiff handing a letter to the Captain, "here is +the answer of the noble Duke, your father."</p> + +<p>Greatly astonished, Captain Griffith broke the seal on the +parchment and read: "One of the poltroon French knights +whom I took prisoner at the battle of Poitiers will deliver this +letter to you and also six thousand florins for his ransom. You +are a fine scamp. Persevere in your exploits—Norfolk."</p> + +<p>"What a father!" exclaimed the Chaplain raising his hands to +heaven. "What a son!"</p> + +<p>"Six thousand florins!" cried Captain Griffith. "Well! The +good man must have remembered my worthy mother"; and addressing +the bailiff he asked: "Where are the six thousand +florins?"</p> + +<p>"In the purses of the vassals of my seigneur, the Sire of Nointel, +who was taken prisoner at the battle of Poitiers by the +noble Duke of Norfolk. But, oh! My master is ruined by the +costs of war and not a florin in the castle. But he gave his +word as a Christian and a knight to pay his ransom to your +father or to you, Sir. He will keep his word. It is an established +custom that the vassals must ransom their seigneurs when +taken prisoner. I therefore come, Sir Captain, to offer to you, +by order of my master what little service I can render to you +to the end of aiding you in collecting the sum, a very difficult<a name="page_159" id="page_159"></a> +thing to do without our aid. If you want a proof, all you have +to do is to follow me not far from here, and you will see something +that will greatly astonish you."</p> + +<p>Captain Griffith, whose curiosity was now pricked, started his +horse at the pace of the bailiff's, and resuming its march the +troop descended the flank of the hill at whose foot lay the straggling +village of Cramoisy, consisting of about three hundred cottages +and houses. The silence of the tomb reigned in these +homes. They were deserted, and the open doors showed their +interiors to be empty and bare. Stupefied, Captain Griffith +reined in his horse and said to the bailiff:</p> + +<p>"By the devil! Where are the inhabitants of these shanties?"</p> + +<p>"The other villages of this seigniory are as deserted as this +one. You will find there, Sir, neither women, nor men, nor +children, nor cattle," answered the bailiff. "There are left, as +you see, only the four walls of the houses. You will, therefore, +find it difficult to collect here even the smallest fraction +of your six thousand florins. Jacques Bonhomme is a sly fox; +he had wind of your coming and has run into the earth to escape +you. But, to a sly fox a sly limehound. I know the burrow of +Jacques Bonhomme. Follow me, Sir."</p> + +<p>"Where to? Whither do you lead us?"</p> + +<p>"Only one league from here.... But we shall have to +descend from our horses at the outskirts of the forest. You can +leave there the gross of your troop. A dozen of your archers +will be enough for the job I have in mind. The risk is slight."</p> + +<p>"Why would you have me descend from horseback, and leave +behind the bulk of my troop?"</p> + +<p>"It will, in the first place, be impossible for us to ride on +horseback over the quagmires, jungles and bogs that we shall +have to cross in order to arrive at the hiding place of Jacques +Bonhomme. In the second place, the fox has a sharp ear. The +noise made by a large troop would give him the alarm."</p> + +<p>"Captain," suggested the Chaplain, "suppose this scamp were +but leading us into an ambuscade?"<a name="page_160" id="page_160"></a></p> + +<p>"Chaplain, never did Griffith recoil before danger," was the +Captain's answer; "moreover, if this bailiff with a marten's snout +should deceive us, let him be forewarned. At the first suspicion +of treachery we shall promptly hack him to pieces."</p> + +<p>"That's right," returned the Chaplain. "Let's march! His +skin answers for our lives."</p> + +<p>"March!" ordered Captain Griffith, and guided by the bailiff, +who had been rejoined by his men, the troop left the village of +Cramoisy and wended its way towards a forest, the skirt of which +drew its length along the horizon.<a name="page_161" id="page_161"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_II-c" id="CHAPTER_II-c"></a>CHAPTER II.<br /><br /> +THE FOX'S BURROW.</h3> + +<p>About two leagues from the village of Cramoisy, and in the +thickest of the seigniorial forest of Nointel, is a vast subterranean +grotto, cut into the chalky rock that offers little resistance +to the pick and the mattock. The cavern dates from +the far-back troubled days when the Norman pirates were in the +habit of rowing up the Somme, the Seine and the Oise and raiding +the surrounding lands. Such of the serfs whose dire misery +did not reach the pitch of constraining them to join the Normans, +and who sought to escape the flood of pillage and massacre, +had dug the underground place of refuge. Carrying thither +their little havings, and even cattle, they remained hidden until +the pirates left the country. Similar places were in later years +contrived in almost all parts of Gaul by the vassals of the nobility +for the purpose of escaping the brigandage of the English, of the +robber bands and of the bands of mercenaries who devastated the +provinces, finally also to escape the extortions of the seigneurs +that now became intolerable, seeing that Jacques Bonhomme +was forced to pay the ransom of their masters who had been +taken prisoners at the battle of Poitiers. In other regions of +Gaul the peasants withdrew with their families upon rafts which +they anchored midstreams of rivers, and which frequently were +either submerged or carried away by the floods to be finally +swamped with the wretched mass of humanity that they bore. +Never before had desolation and panic reached such a pitch in +the unfortunate country; the huts were almost all abandoned, +the fields uncultivated and a famine was apprehended similar +to that which desolated Gaul in the year 1000.</p> + +<p>The underground retreat whither the inhabitants of Cramoisy<a name="page_162" id="page_162"></a> +and several other villages of the seigniory of Nointel took refuge +consists of a long vault, at the extremity and to the right and +left of which are several other galleries in which cattle, goats +and sheep are crowded. A well, used for a drinking trough, is +dug in the center of the principal gallery. Above, an opening, +partially masked with stones and underbrush, admits some light +and air to the dark and icy asylum that oozes with the moisture +of the earth. There, more than a thousand people crowded together—men, +women and children who fled from their homes. +The milk of the cattle, a few handfuls of rye or wheat pounded +between two stones entertain rather than appease the tortures of +hunger. A steaming, suffocating and nauseous heat, produced +by the agglomeration of people and cattle, pervades the gloomy +place. Now plaintive wails are heard, then the outbursts of violent +quarrels, such as are certain to break out among semi-savages +whom suffering exasperates. Wan and half naked children, +who, however, preserve the carelessness of their age, played +at this moment at the edge of the well which just happened +to be lighted by a ray of sunlight that filtered through the rocks +and underbrush which concealed the only air-hole of the vault. +That sun ray also lighted a group of three persons, huddled +together in a dug-out near the well. The three persons were +Aveline, Alison and Mazurec.</p> + +<p>When the little village of Nointel was pillaged by the troupe +of Captain Griffith, the handsome tavern-keeper succeeded in +saving what moneys she had and fled to Cramoisy where she +joined Aveline. Learning there that the English were still +ravaging the neighborhood, she joined the peasants in their +flight to the underground retreat.</p> + +<p>Aveline, now far advanced in pregnancy, expected every day to +be delivered of the child of her disgrace and the fruit of the +iniquity perpetrated upon her by her seigneur. Barely covered +in a few rags, she lay on the cold and bare earth. Ever sympathetic, +Alison held upon her knees the languishing and pale +head of the young girl, whose thinness had now become shocking.<a name="page_163" id="page_163"></a> +Her hollow cheeks imparted monstrous size to her eyes, which she +attached beseechingly upon Mazurec, engaged at the moment in +sharpening upon a stone the teeth of a pitch-fork while muttering +to himself: "William is long in returning from Paris; we +are waiting for him so as to start the massacre ... sacred +reprisals!"</p> + +<p>Thus muttering to himself, Mazurec continued sharpening +his fork. He had become a hideous sight. Having lost his +right eye since the judicial combat with the knight of Chaumontel, +the now hollow, quivering and half closed eyelids on that +side of his face exposed a blood-clotted cavity. His crushed nose +is a mass of scars, purplish like his torn-up upper lip which +exposes his broken teeth. His long matted hair falls upon the +ragged goat-skin jacket which he wears and from which protrude +his nervy, but now haggard arms. Attaching upon her husband +a beseeching look, Aveline said to him in a weak and +sad voice: "Mazurec, if I give birth to a child before dying ... promise +me not to kill it!... Answer me ... I +beseech you in God's name.... Have mercy on the innocent +creature."</p> + +<p>"I promise nothing," answered the vassal in a hollow voice +without stopping from his work; "we shall see what's to be +done."</p> + +<p>"He will kill the innocent child, Dame Alison!" cried Aveline +weeping and hiding her head.</p> + +<p>"Keep still!" replied Mazurec with the mien of a tiger that +rendered his face still more frightful; "Keep still, or I may +believe you are proud of having a child of your seigneur."</p> + +<p>Aveline answered with a hysterical sob, while Alison cried +indignantly: "Wretch, you will yet be the cause of your wife's +death!"</p> + +<p>"I had as lief she was dead as alive ... as to the child +she now carries ... he shall not live ... I shall +smother the noble whelp."<a name="page_164" id="page_164"></a></p> + +<p>"Well, then, why don't you kill both mother and child. That +would be less cruel than to kill Aveline by little and little as +you are doing!" And looking at Mazurec with eyes of angry +reproach, Alison added: "Oh, Mazurec the Lambkin, the unfortunate +girl whose death you now wish, once made your heart +bound with joy when you passed the door at which she used to +spin!"</p> + +<p>At these words which recalled to Mazurec the spring-tide of +his love, days that were sweet even to the wretched serf, the +young man broke down in tears, threw the fork aside, and closely +embracing his wife, whose pale face he covered with kisses, +he said: "Pardon me, my poor Aveline!... Oh, my blood +has turned to gall ... I have suffered so much.... +I still suffer so much.... Pardon me, my dear wife!"</p> + +<p>Mazurec was uttering these words when suddenly the species +of air-hole above the well was almost wholly obstructed with +large stones that were being rolled about by the men of the bailiff +of Nointel, and the bailiff himself, applying his mouth as closely +as he could to the little opening that was left, shouted down +into the cavity: "All of you, vassals of the parish of Cramoisy +and neighboring villages, you are taxed, as your quota of the +ransom of our very noble, very high, very dear and very powerful +seigneur, the sum of one thousand florins; the other parishes +of the seigniory shall be similarly taxed. Rummage around your +purses quickly so that you meet the sum demanded. You have +hiding places where you bury your valuables. Choose quickly +between death and your money. If within the time it shall +take me to utter a 'pater'<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> and an 'ave,'<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> one of you does +not come out with the money, you will all be smoked to death +like so many foxes in their burrow, after which the corpses will +be rifled."</p> + +<p>The bailiff stopped; the air-hole was tightly closed with clods +of earth; and the cavern was plunged into utter darkness.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my God! What's going to happen? Leave me not<a name="page_165" id="page_165"></a> +Mazurec," cried Aveline in a tremor and throwing her arms +around her husband who jumped up the better to hear the +announcement made by the bailiff, and which, repeated from +mouth to mouth by the vassals, left them steeped in gloomy +silence. The unhappy serfs clung all the more tightly to their +little coin, their last resource, the only fruits left to them of +their crushing labors and homicidal privations, seeing that they +had succeeded in saving it from the rapacity of their seigneurs +only by dint of untold privations and nameless devices, often +struggling against the torture itself that was frequently inflicted +upon them in the hope of wringing from them the disclosure +of the hiding places where they kept their little treasure buried. +The first shock being over, cries of indignation and revolt resounded +in the cavern. The noise increased more and more.</p> + +<p>"We leave our homes to live in holes like wild beasts, and we +are hunted down even here!"</p> + +<p>"To be pillaged by the English, and be forced besides to pay for +the ransom of our seigneurs!"</p> + +<p>"No! No! Let them choke us with smoke, let them burn +us, let them massacre us.... They shall get not one denier +from us!"</p> + +<p>"We shall throw our few remaining sous into the well, sooner +than deliver them to our butcher!"</p> + +<p>It did not take the bailiff long to say his "pater" and "ave." +Seeing none of the serfs coming out of the cavern to bring him +the sum demanded, he ordered the burrow of Jacques Bonhomme +to be smoked. The work was easily done. The cavern was entered +by a narrow and steep passage cut into the rock. The +Englishmen of Captain Griffith and the retinue brought by the<a name="page_166" id="page_166"></a> +bailiff heaped up at the mouth of the entrance a mass of dry +leaves and branches, set fire to the same, and with the aid of their +long lances shoved on the brasier a heap of green branches the +thick and acrid smoke of which soon filled the interior of the +cavern, the only opening that could have allowed the smoke to +escape having been tightly closed in advance.</p> + +<p>Ghastly was the scene that ensued. Suffocated and blinded +by the black and pungent smoke, the vassals were a prey to distracting +pain. The cattle, submitted to the identical trial, became +furious, broke their ropes and rolled in the darkness amid +the crowd whom they trampled under foot or gored with their +horns. The wails of women and children, the imprecations of +men, the lowing of the cattle made an infernal concert. Several +of the serfs succeeded in groping their way to the well +and threw themselves in to escape prolonged torture; others +threw themselves headlong towards the mouth of the cavern, +but smothered by the thick smoke and the flames that entered +the passage and that now converted the entrance into a furnace, +dropped down into the middle of the flames and were consumed; +others again threw themselves down flat upon the ground, +scratched the earth with their nails and, burying their faces +in the earth imagined in their wild delirium they could thus +take breath; lastly not a few were the mothers who, wishing to +spare their children a long agony, strangled them quickly to +death.</p> + +<p>Mazurec held Aveline tightly in his arms while he shuddered +at the thought of the horrible death that awaited her. The +tender sentiments of their happier days took possession of his +heart and mind and he racked his brain for a means of escape. +It was in vain. Long worn out by misery and sorrow, the young +woman was not equal to so rude an additional strain. In her +death agony she fastened her lips to Mazurec's as though, wishing +to escape suffocation, she strove to inhale her husband's breath.</p> + +<p>By degrees her hold on him was relaxed, with one convulsive<a name="page_167" id="page_167"></a> +effort she embraced her husband and then her arms dropped by +her side.</p> + +<p>"Dead!" shrieked the serf; "dead and unavenged, my dearly +beloved Aveline!"</p> + +<p>"You can still revenge her and save us both and many more +of these unfortunates," came panting from Alison, who still +preserved her senses and energy. "Let us hasten!" continued the +tavern-keeper with an ever more oppressed voice. "Let us endeavor +to get out of here; ... I shall give the bailiff +three hundred florins that I have sewn in my clothes; ... +he will allow us to escape; ... if he does not, kill him; +... take your pitch-fork; ... it lies there.... +Let's flee!..."</p> + +<p>Mazurec emitted a cry of savage joy. The imminence of +danger and the hope of revenge increased his strength tenfold. +He seized the fork with his right hand, with his left he dragged +Alison after him, and guided by the ruddy glow at the mouth of +the cavern, the vassal plied his fork so as to clear a passage +through the crowd that ran about delirious. Some he threw +down, others he walked over. Finally he reached the approaches +of the burning pile near which a number of corpses lay strewn. +Dropping the hand of Alison and hitting upon a plan that had +occurred to none during the general panic, Mazurec thrust his +pitch-fork into the midst of the burning pile, scattered it, threw +some of it behind him, opened a passage to himself, cleared +the space which was covered with burning embers, and after a few +bounds found himself at the issue of the cavern. For a moment +Mazurec stood still inhaling the free air; his strength returned +speedily; and making one last effort he rushed out. At the unexpected +sight of Mazurec, foaming at the mouth with rage and +brandishing his fork, both the Englishmen and the bailiff's men +drew back in terror. Mazurec lost no time; he rushed upon the +bailiff, buried the fork in the bowels of his seigneur's menial, +threw him down, and, maddened with rage, trampled him under<a name="page_168" id="page_168"></a> +foot while he again and again thrust his pitch-fork into the +bailiff's breast, his face and every part of his body that he could +reach, uttering at every thrust: "This is for your having +dragged Aveline to your master's bed!... This is for your +having now smothered Aveline to death!"</p> + +<p>At the sight of the terrific spectacle Captain Griffith broke out +in a loud guffaw saying: "I take this expert poker under my +protection. I admire his dexterity in the use of his pitch-fork!" +In the midst of these exclamations Captain Griffith suddenly remained +silent, then clapping his hands he proceeded in new +ecstacy: "By the devil! Here are my two beautiful black eyes +and plump ankles! Oh, this time you will not escape me, my +belle! Mine be your treasures!"</p> + +<p>The English captain uttered these cries at the sight of Alison, +who now appeared at the entrance of the cavern, pale, with +disheveled hair, her clothes half burnt, breathing fast and so +feeble that she was unable to walk except supporting herself by +the rocks that lay near by. Captain Griffith, without being moved +at the lamentable aspect of the woman, and listening only to his +own amorous suggestions, made one bound at his prey, took her +in his arms and cried: "This time I hold you! Now you are +mine!"</p> + +<p>"Mercy!" cried Alison, struggling to free herself. "I shall +give you all the money I have.... Mercy!"</p> + +<p>"Love first, money afterwards!" was the answer of Norfolk's +bastard carrying Alison off.</p> + +<p>"Help, Mazurec! Help!" cried the tavern-keeper as loudly +as her weak voice allowed her. But Mazurec, exasperated with +suffering and now drunk with bloodshed and the transports of +revenge, continued to hack with his pitch-fork the corpse of the +bailiff, and heard not the appeal of Alison.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, stepping out of a thick bush and appearing on the +top of a rocky eminence, Jocelyn the Champion precipitated +himself upon the ravisher, followed by Adam the Devil, William<a name="page_169" id="page_169"></a> +Caillet, Rufin the Tankard-smasher and several serfs armed with +axes, forks and scythes. This small troop, attracted by the cries +of Alison, had rushed forward ahead of a large number of revolted +peasants, who, crossing a denser part of the forest, marched +slowlier.</p> + +<p>"Here I am, my charming hostess!" cried Jocelyn, leaping +from rock to rock, sword in hand; "here I am ... ready +to defend you!"</p> + +<p>"My Hercules of the castle of Beaumont!" exclaimed Captain +Griffith, drawing his sword at the sight of Jocelyn whom he +immediately recognized; and relinquishing Alison he rushed, +sword in hand, at Jocelyn, saying: "Only to-day I requested +but two things from Satan: to embrace that belle and to find +you again a little fattened, my sturdy boy! Let's commence +with you; the belle shall have her turn!"</p> + +<p>"I have not yet gathered much meat on my bones," responded +the champion, intrepidly attacking the bastard of Norfolk, "but +you shall not be long in admitting that my wrist has not yet +lost any of its strength."</p> + +<p>A mad combat was immediately engaged in between the +champion and the Captain, while Caillet, Adam the Devil, Rufin +and several of the serfs who accompanied them, threw themselves +furiously upon Captain Griffith's Chaplain and the archers +who had come with him when he left the gross of his troop near +the skirt of the forest, as the bailiff had advised.</p> + +<p>"Kill, kill the English!... Death to the English!"</p> + +<p>Overpowered and crushed by numbers, cut to pieces with the +scythes, disemboweled with the forks, knocked down with the +hatchets, not one of Captain Griffith's men escaped the carnage. +After heroically defending himself against Adam the Devil, who +was armed with a short scythe and against Rufin who wielded +a long sword, the Chaplain fell under their blows. His attention +being now drawn again from his frenzy against the corpse +of the bailiff by the arrival of the peasants who came with<a name="page_170" id="page_170"></a> +Caillet, Mazurec turned to them and brandishing his fork first +joined their side of the combat; but struck with a sudden +thought, he climbed the hillock where the air-hole had been contrived +over the cavern, and which had recently been closed by +the orders of the bailiff of Nointel. With the assistance of his +fork he rolled off the stones from the aperture, and the smoke, +now finding an issue, escaped therefrom in thick and black puffs. +Climbing down, Mazurec disappeared within the cavern.</p> + +<p>At that moment, though wounded in the arm, Jocelyn was +holding Captain Griffith to the ground with both his knees pressing +on the Englishman's chest, and was looking for the dagger +at his belt to bury it in his throat saying: "You shall die, English +dog, who do not respect even dying women!"</p> + +<p>"As true as you are the best blade that I have yet met in this +country, my only regret is that I leave that belle behind!"</p> + +<p>Such were the last words of the bastard of Norfolk. At the +same moment Mazurec issued from the cavern with the corpse +of Aveline in his arms, saying:</p> + +<p>"William Caillet, here is your daughter and my wife. All +of you who have wives, children, parents or friends step into +that cavern. Look for them among the dead and dying. Our +seigneur, the Sire of Nointel, had us smoked in our refuge because +we refused to contribute money towards his ransom!"</p> + +<p>At this announcement a large number of peasants ran into the +cavern, while Caillet approached Mazurec, who still held his +wife's body in his arms, and calmly said: "Lay her down on +the grass.... We shall dig her grave." But the words +were hardly uttered by the old man than throwing himself down +beside the lifeless body of his daughter, he broke out in convulsive +sobs while kissing her cold face.</p> + +<p>"I have cried so much that I have no tears left," said Mazurec +contemplating the spectacle with a dry and fiery eye, while +Adam the Devil silently dug Aveline's grave with the aid of his +short scythe.<a name="page_171" id="page_171"></a></p> + +<p>A clump of roots and trees had until now concealed the sad +spectacle from Jocelyn, who, not having noticed his brother +in the heat of the combat, sat down on the grass supported by +Rufin, and left his arm to be attended by Alison. Always +brave and helpful, despite the different emotions that stormed +through her heart, the tavern-keeper had ripped up her neck-cloth, +and kneeling down beside Jocelyn, looked upon him with +tenderness while staunching his wound.</p> + +<p>"When we first met, you won my case; to-day I owe to you +life and honor. How can I ever repay such a debt. Oh, I know +too well how you contemn money to offer you three hundred +franks that I have sewed in my skirt."</p> + +<p>"Do you wish, dear and good hostess, to repay your debt? +Go to Paris. When you arrive there, ask where Master Marcel +lives. Everybody will show you the place. Tell his wife that +I have been slightly wounded and that there is no danger. +That will assure Dame Marcel and also her niece ... my +betrothed."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you are betrothed, Sir!" exclaimed Alison with some confusion, +and gulping down a sigh, she added in an unsteady +voice: "May God protect your love! I shall do as you say. +I shall go to Paris ... I shall calm the anxieties of the +girl you love. In her place I would be happy, indeed.... +Oh, so happy to be reassured regarding him whom I love," saying +which Alison lowered her head to conceal a furtive tear that +shone on her beautiful black eyes.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Jocelyn!" Rufin said in a low voice, charmed with the +grace and kindness of Alison, "a comely and honest body like +that is worth a hundred Margots."</p> + +<p>"Dear hostess!" resumed Jocelyn after a moment's reflection, +"Will you allow me to give you advice? In times like these, +a woman who travels alone runs great dangers. Take this +friend of mine, Rufin, for your escort."</p> + +<p>"Jocelyn," said the student with a lively movement, "I wish +to remain with you to fight the nobility."<a name="page_172" id="page_172"></a></p> + +<p>"You fought bravely despite the wound that you received +only day before yesterday, and which still gives you much pain. +You can render our cause a great service by returning and +notifying Marcel that the peasants are in arms in this province +and that William Caillet has given the signal for the uprising. +Marcel awaits this news to act.... And if he has any +confidential message for me, he will send it through you. You +will then rejoin me in Beauvoisis. You will be easily able to +learn the whereabouts of Caillet's troops, which I shall not +leave"; and seeing that the student was about to yield, Jocelyn +added in a low voice: "Despite the indiscretions of your youth, +you are an upright fellow; promise me that you will guard Alison +as you would your own sister."</p> + +<p>"I promise, Jocelyn; and you can trust my word! I shall be +a good guardian to Alison."</p> + +<p>Suddenly a tremor ran over Jocelyn. He had just noticed +Mazurec and Caillet carrying the body of Aveline. He understood +what had happened, profound sorrow depicted itself upon +his face, and kneeling down he said: "Kneel, Rufin ... +kneel, my good hostess ... I shall have to wait till after +this funeral to inform Mazurec that I am his brother."</p> + +<p>Adam the Devil had finished digging the grave of Aveline. +Caillet and Mazurec, holding the body by the shoulders and feet, +laid it down in the tomb. The peasants who witnessed the ceremony +fell upon their knees. The funeral of the poor female +serf piously performed under the vault of the forest in the midst +of the heaped-up rocks at the mouth of the cavern—the immense +tomb of so many other victims—was a spectacle of mournful +grandeur. Everything contributed to render the scene terrible +and imposing. There lay the mutilated and bloody members of +the bailiff, the pitiless executer of the Sire of Nointel's orders; +yonder were strewn the corpses of the English, no less execrated +than the seigneurs by the people of the fields; further at a distance +was the kneeling crowd of serfs, bare-headed, clad in rags,<a name="page_173" id="page_173"></a> +holding strange and murderous weapons in their hands, and +hardly able to restrain their fury; finally there were the father +and the husband laying with their own hands into her grave +her who should have been the solace of the former's old age and +the joy and love of the latter's youth!</p> + +<p>As soon as the body of the dead girl was laid in the fosse, +Adam the Devil began filling it up with earth, while William +Caillet standing at the head of his daughter's sepulchre and holding +Mazurec to his breast cried out in a voice that pulled at the +heart-strings of all present:</p> + +<p>"Adieu, my daughter! Adieu, my poor Aveline! You who +never lied! You who never did wrong! Adieu! For evermore +adieu!" and raising his trembling hands heavenward, the old +peasant proceeded solemnly: "I swear here by the body of my +child whom I have buried with my own hands! By the bones +of our friends and our relatives whose grave is that cavern! By +the sufferings that we endure! By the blood and the sweat of +our forefathers! I shall revenge my daughter! I shall revenge +our fathers! I shall revenge our race for the tortures it has +endured! War upon the castles, without let or mercy!"</p> + +<p>Carried away by these words, the surrounding serfs rose to +their feet, and brandishing their staves, their scythes, their forks +and their axes, all responded in chorus with a voice that the +echoes of the forest answered back: "Vengeance!" "Justice!"</p> + +<p>In the meantime the peasants who had run into the cavern +were coming back with terror marked on their faces: "Dead.... +They are all dead or dying! Women and children, old +and young ... all are dead!"</p> + +<p>"All dead!" Caillet repeated in a terrific voice, "the little children! +The women! The old men and the young! All dead! +Up, Jacques Bonhomme! Up, my Jacques! Let the Jacquerie +commence!"</p> + +<p>"It shall commence with the castle of Chivry," cried Adam +the Devil. "Our seigneur is to be this very day at the castle of<a name="page_174" id="page_174"></a> +Chivry to wed the gorgeous Gloriande ... on the day of +the tourney she laughed at Mazurec!... It will now be +your turn to laugh at the haughty damosel.... Up, my +Jacques, let the Jacquerie commence!"</p> + +<p>"Ha! Ha! The belle Gloriande!" Mazurec repeated with a +ferocious and semi-delirious laughter. "I shall appear before +her with one eye knocked out and my nose crushed! Oh! The +gorgeous Gloriande!... What a fright she'll have!... +Her husband took my bride.... Up, up, my +Jacques! The Jacquerie commences!... War upon the +castles!"</p> + +<p>The revolted peasants tumultuously followed Caillet, Adam the +Devil and Mazurec across the forest crying: "To Chivry.... +Up, Jacques.... The Jacquerie commences!"</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, hostess!" said Jocelyn rising and preparing to +follow Mazurec. "Good-bye, Rufin. Guard with the solicitude of +a brother this worthy woman who confides herself to your protection."</p> + +<p>"I trust your friend," answered Alison, "because you told me +to trust him."</p> + +<p>"I swear," put in the student deeply moved, "that you can +trust me as fully as you would Jocelyn himself, pretty hostess."</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, Rufin; I shall join my brother, disclose to him the +bonds that unite us, and battle at his side. Once more, good-bye, +Alison. Say to Dame Marcel and to Denise, my betrothed, +that if I do not see them again, my last thoughts will have been +to them. As to you, Rufin, say to Marcel that the peasants of +this province are at work exterminating the seigneurs."</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, Jocelyn," Rufin answered sadly, extending his +hand to his friend. "If Master Marcel should have any message +for you I shall ask him to commission me to bring it to you!"</p> + +<p>Once more the champion pressed his friend's hand and hastened +to join the Jacques whose vociferations were heard in the +distance. Before following the student, the good Alison knelt +down at the grave of Aveline and amidst tears bade the last adieu +to the ill-starred young woman.<a name="page_175" id="page_175"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_III-c" id="CHAPTER_III-c"></a>CHAPTER III.<br /><br /> +THE CASTLE OF CHIVRY.</h3> + +<p>The castle of Chivry, situated about three leagues from Nointel, +and like almost all other feudal manors, built on the brow +of a precipitous mountain, has nothing to fear from an attack +from without. Defended both by a hundred men-at-arms and +its own natural position, it can resist a long siege. For such an +attack, artillery and other engines of war would have been +requisite. The interior magnificence of this seigniorial edifice +matches its defensive strength. Among its many sumptuous +features is the throne hall, or hall of honor, which presents a +dazzling sight. Its rafters, painted and gilded, glisten under the +blue of the ceiling. Rich hanging carpets cover the walls, and +enormous fire-places of sculptured stone, where whole trunks of +trees are burned, rise at the two extremities of the vast apartment +which is lighted by ten ogive windows of glass bearing +armorial designs. The hall, virtually a gallery, is two hundred +feet long, by one hundred wide—vast dimensions, indispensible +to the state ceremonies which the stewards of the Sire of +Chivry, as is the custom, attend mounted on horseback, entering +by one of the doors of the hall, and solemnly carrying on +the silver platters the "dishes of honor" such as peacocks and +roasted pheasants, prepared with their own heads, and out-spread +tails and wings, or gigantic pastries representing the +seigniorial manor, ornamented with an escutcheon painted in +lively colors—a glorious dish that the pages place on the table +before the queen of the feast, and that must be cut by the +equerry.</p> + +<p>On this day, a brilliant company—the nobles, seigneurs and +dames, damosels and children of the neighboring estates—assembled<a name="page_176" id="page_176"></a> +in the throne hall of the castle of Chivry, and pressed +around the beautiful Gloriande, who sat triumphant on the +throne—a sort of raised seat covered and canopied with gold +brocades. Never did the damosel seem more superb and brilliant +in the eyes of her admirers. Her attire was dazzling. Her +black hair, braided with a thread of pearls and carbuncles, is +half hid under her virginal bride's veil. Her robe of white velvet, +embroidered with silver, boldly exposes her breast and plump +arms. A scarf of Oriental silk, fringed with pearls, girds her +supple and well-shaped waist. With brilliant eyes, pink cheeks +and smiling lips, Gloriande receives the compliments of the +noble assemblage who congratulate her on her wedding, the celebration +of which is soon to be announced by the bell of the +castle's chapel. The aged Count of Chivry enjoys the happiness +of his daughter and the homage she is the recipient of. Nevertheless, +despite the gladness denoted by her face, from time to +time Gloriande puckers up her black eyebrows, while throwing +impatient looks towards the doors of the gallery. Noticing one +of these looks of impatience, the Count of Chivry says to his +daughter smiling: "Be at ease ... Conrad will soon be +here.... There he is.... Behold your bridegroom! +What a noble presence!"</p> + +<p>At the moment when the noble seigneur was saying these +words a triumphant procession entered the spacious hall. Clarion +players opened the march with a bravoure, they were followed +by the pages bearing the livery of Nointel who in turn +were followed by the seigneur's equerries. These led ten hideous +looking men in chains. Their faces and skulls, smoothly shaven, +are of dark brown color. Sad and dejected, they hold their +heads down. They are clad in new white and green blouses, +the armorial colors of the house of Chivry. From time to time +the captives noisily clank their chains and emit lamentable moanings. +Behind them marches the Sire of Nointel, superbly +astride of a charger, with visor down, lance in hand and accoutred +in battle armor. At his side but on foot marches Gerard +of Chaumontel, also in full armor and seeming to share his<a name="page_177" id="page_177"></a> +friend's glory. The cheers of the noble assemblage greet the +procession, and the radiant Gloriande, whose cheeks are now +red with pride, rises from her seat and waving her handkerchief +cries:</p> + +<p>"Glory to the victor! Honor to the bravest gallant!"</p> + +<p>"Glory to the victor!" is echoed back by the noble assemblage. +"Honor to the bravest gallant! Long live the seigneur +of Nointel!"</p> + +<p>The Sire of Nointel descends from his horse, raises the visor +of his casque and while his equerries beckon the captives to kneel +down, he delivers himself of the following sentence:</p> + +<p>"My lady-love ordered me to go to war against the English +and to bring ten prisoners to her feet. The duty of all gallant +knights is to obey the queen of their thoughts. Here are the ten +English soldiers that I took at the battle that we have fought. +And I, a captive of the god of love, now lead these chained men +to the feet of my lady-love."</p> + +<p>These chivalrous and gallant words threw the assemblage into +transports of enthusiasm. The Sire of Nointel bows his head +and proceeds:</p> + +<p>"These prisoners belong to my lady-love. Let her dispose of +them at her sovereign will."</p> + +<p>"Seeing that my valiant knight requests me to decide over +the fate of these prisoners," answered Gloriande, "I order that +they be delivered of their chains ... and that they be set +free! The day of my marriage shall be a day of joy for all"; +and extending her hand to Conrad who drops on one knee before +his bride, she proceeds: "Here is my hand, Sire of Nointel. I +can give it to no more valorous a knight."</p> + +<p>"Happy day to the wedded couple!" cries the assemblage. +"Glory and happiness to Gloriande of Chivry and Conrad of +Nointel!"</p> + +<p>While the brilliant company was thus manifesting its share +in the gladness of the young couple, the Count of Chivry approached<a name="page_178" id="page_178"></a> +the knight of Chaumontel and asked him in a low +voice:</p> + +<p>"Gerard, what devil of Englishmen are these fellows.... +Why, they are dark as moles!"</p> + +<p>"Sir Count," gravely answered the knight, "these scamps +are of the English tribe of <i>Ratamorphrydich!</i>"</p> + +<p>"How do you call that tribe?" again inquired the aged seigneur +stupefied at the barbarous name; "I never heard of it before."</p> + +<p>"The <i>Ratamorphrydich</i>," explained the knight, "are one of +the most ferocious tribes of northern England. They are supposed +to descend from a gypsy or Syrian colony that migrated +from Moscovy to the shores of Albion upon the back of marine +horses."</p> + +<p>"Well! Well!" rejoined the aged count enraptured at the +geographic knowledge of the knight. "That is a very complete +and clear explanation."</p> + +<p>The bell of the castle's chapel now sounded, and the seigneur +of Chivry said to the knight: "This is the first peal of the +wedding mass. Oh, Gerard, this is a beautiful day for my old +years ... doubly beautiful because it shines in otherwise +sad times."</p> + +<p>"But it seems, Sire, that you have no cause to complain +of the events. Conrad returns to you covered with laurel. +True enough, he is a paroled prisoner of the English, but at +this very moment his vassals are emptying their purses for +his ransom. He is beloved by your daughter, whom he adores. +Your castle, well fortified and provisioned, and defended by +a courageous garrison, has nothing to fear from either the +English or the marauding bands. Jacques Bonhomme, still +sore at every limb from the lesson he received last year at the +tourney of Nointel, dare not raise his nose above the ditches +where he is at work for you. You may live in peace and<a name="page_179" id="page_179"></a> +contentment. Long live love, and let the future take care of +itself!"</p> + +<p>"Father," said Gloriande to the Count of Chivry, "the bell +has sounded the second call for mass.... Let us start."</p> + +<p>"Very well, my impatient bride," the Count replied smiling +upon his daughter, "give your hand to Conrad and we shall start +for the altar."</p> + +<p>"Oh, father, do you know that Conrad spoke of me to the +Regent, our Sire? The young and lovely prince wishes to see +me at court.... We shall have time to order three dresses, +one of brocade, the other of silver ... the third laminated +in flower work."</p> + +<p>"You may order ten dresses, twenty if you wish, and of the +richest. Nothing is too beautiful for Gloriande of Chivry when +she makes her appearance at court! It is well to show those +kings, who seek to crowd the seigneurs, that we are as great +seigneurs as themselves. You shall not lack for money. My +bailiffs shall levy a double tax upon my vassals in honor of your +wedding, as is customary. But here comes another impatient +hot-blood who implores you to take pity on his martyrdom," +gaily added the Count pointing at Conrad who now approached. +The Sire of Nointel lovingly took the hand of his bride, the +procession formed and, followed by the pages and equerries, the +noble assembly marched to the chapel of the manor.</p> + +<p>The English prisoners, who had been freed of their chains +by the order of Gloriande, brought up the rear. While crossing +the threshold of the gallery a large newly sharpened knife +with a coarse wooden handle dropped from the blouse of one +of the prisoners.</p> + +<p>"Adam the Devil," whispered another prisoner, "pick up your +knife before it attracts the attention of the soldiers."<a name="page_180" id="page_180"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_IV-c" id="CHAPTER_IV-c"></a>CHAPTER IV.<br /><br /> +"JACQUERIE! JACQUERIE!"</h3> + +<p>The marriage of the damosel of Chivry with the seigneur of +Nointel took place in the morning. In the afternoon, the large +number of guests invited to the brilliant wedding were gathered +in the large throne hall, now transformed into a banquet room. +The banquet was continued deep into the evening, and was now +nearing its end. For the last six hours the noble guests had been +doing ample honor to the interminable meal. While Jacques +Bonhomme barely preserves existence with decayed beans and +water, the seigneurs eat fit to split their stomachs. It was so +at the nuptials of the belle Gloriande. The first course, intended +to open the appetite, consisted of citrons, fruit cooked in vinegar, +sour cherries, salted dishes, salads and other toothsome preparations. +The second course was of lobster patties, cream almonds, +soups of meat, of rice, of oats, of wheat, of macaroni, of fricandelles, +each served in the different colors that expert cooks impart +to them and that please the eyes of the gourmands—soups in +white, in blue, in yellow, in red, in green or of golden hue were +spread in harmonious combinations. The third course had roasts +with sauce, and what a variety of sauces!—cinnamon, nutmeg, +raisin, jennet, rose, flower—all these sauces likewise colored differently. +The fourth course consisted of pastries of all sorts, of +boars, of deer, monstrous pastries that held, floating on goose fat, +a whole stuffed lamb, finally tarts of rose leaves, of cherries, of +chestnuts, and in the middle of all these a monumental fabric +of pastry three feet high, representing the donjon-keep, the towers +and the ramparts of the noble manor of Chivry. The long +table loaded down with costly plate which reflected one another<a name="page_181" id="page_181"></a> +by the light of wax candles presented the aspect of gladsome disorder. +The flagons and silver decanters, filled with spiced wines +and circulating from hand to hand, redoubled the conviviality +of the hour. Some of the guests grew unsteady in their seats, +their heads swimming in the fumes of approaching drunkenness. +The cheeks and eyes of several of the dames and their daughters, +even without having celebrated Gloriande's nuptials to a Bacchic +excess, had become purple and inflamed; their breasts heaved, +and they laughed boisterously at the licentious stories told by +the seigneurs who sat near and drank out of the same cup with +them. Outside of the banquet table, the servants, and even the +men-at-arms, were sharing the convivial joys of their masters, and +celebrated the nuptials of their seigneur's daughter with deep +potations of beer, cider, and even wine. Many were asleep in the +profound slumbers of inebriety.</p> + +<p>Alone Gloriande and her bridegroom have remained free from +the effects of the overfeeding and drinking. Their intoxication +is sweeter. They love each other, and soon the hour would come +for their retirement. From time to time they exchanged furtive +glances of impatience. Ardent are the looks of Conrad; troubled +those of Gloriande. Her beautiful bosom undulates attractively +the necklace of pearls and diamonds that rests upon it. She even +frowns and shrugs her white shoulders upon hearing her father, +now in an advanced stage of intoxication, bellowing at the top +of his voice for silence and announcing that he would sing an +old drinking song of twenty-eight verses, and each couple, drinking +from the same goblet, was to empty it at each couplet, after +which the bride and bridegroom would be ceremoniously conducted +by her maids of honor to the bridal chamber, whose door +opened into the hall. At her father's proposition to sing twenty-eight +verses, a proposition that was received with general acclaim, +Gloriande cast a desolate look upon Conrad, and the latter, +turning to his friend Chaumontel, whispered in his ear: "The +<a name="page_182" id="page_182"></a>devil take the drunken old man ... along with his song."</p> + +<p>"By the way," answered the half intoxicated knight, laughing +loudly, "the old man asked me this morning how our English +prisoners happened to be dark as moles;" and turning from the +Count of Chivry the knight reflected a moment and then proceeded: +"But, Conrad, were there not originally eleven rustics +instead of ten that we picked up near the forest, from which they +had just issued with forks, scythes and axes? They said they +were hunting for a wolf that caused them much damage. Ah! +Ah! I must still laugh when I think of our capture.... +By the devil.... It was eleven and not ten rustics that +we caught.... How does it come that, being eleven, there +should only be ten now?"</p> + +<p>"Do you forget that one of them ran away on the road?"</p> + +<p>"That's a ray of light!" cried Gerard, counting on his fingers +with the gravity of a drunken man. "The rustics were eleven. +Good.... One of them escapes.... Consequently +there should be only ten left! Conrad, you are the brightest of +mortals!"</p> + +<p>At that moment the seigneur of Chivry struck up the fourth +couplet of his Bacchic song. No longer could the beautiful Gloriande +endure her amorous martyrdom. She exchanged a few signs +of intelligence with Conrad, and almost immediately uttered a +slight cry, while seizing her father's arm, near whom she was seated. +The old seigneur abruptly broke off his song and said to Gloriande, +in blank amazement:</p> + +<p>"What is the matter, dear daughter? Are you not well?"</p> + +<p>"I feel giddy; I am not well; I shall withdraw to my room."</p> + +<p>"My dearly beloved Gloriande," said the Sire of Nointel, rising +quickly, "allow me to accompany you."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I wish you would, Conrad.... I shall take some +air at the window of my room.... I think that will do +me good."</p> + +<p>"Come, my children," said the seigneur of Chivry, resignedly, +"I shall start my song all over again at to-morrow's feast;" and<a name="page_183" id="page_183"></a> +then added: "Let the maids of honor kindly accompany the bride, +according to custom, as far as the door of the nuptial chamber."</p> + +<p>At these words several of the young ladies regretfully quitted +the knights near whom they sat and surrounded the bride, while +Conrad walked around the immense table to join his wife, and +two pages threw open the doors of the bridal chamber, brilliantly +lighted by torches of perfumed wax. The nuptial couch was seen +at the end of the chamber, surmounted with an armorial canopy, +and half concealed behind curtains of tapestry that glistened +with silver thread. Suddenly the voice of Gerard of Chaumontel, +more and more intoxicated, was heard crying:</p> + +<p>"Noble dames and damosels, I request leave to prove to you +that I am a man ... of singular powers of divination!"</p> + +<p>"Prove it! Prove it!" gayly came from the guests. "Prove +it to us, to-night! We listen! Give us the proof!"</p> + +<p>"Last year," proceeded Gerard, "on the day of the tourney of +Nointel, where all of you were present, and where Jacques Bonhomme +kicked some capers, Conrad ordered several of the scamps +to be hanged, and to drown the one whom I vanquished in a +judicial combat, all according to usage and custom."</p> + +<p>"I very much would like to see a villein drown," cried a lad +of eleven years, son of the Sire of Bourgeuil. "I have seen villeins +whipped, I have seen their ears cropped, I have seen them +hanged and quartered, but never have I seen any drowned. +Father, ... will you not have a villein drowned ... +for me to see?... I would like to see a villein drowned.... +I have taken the fancy."</p> + +<p>"My son," the Sire of Bourgeuil answered the child in a magisterial +tone, "your interruption is unbecoming. You should have +waited till the knight finished before expressing your wish to me."</p> + +<p>"Well," continued Gerard of Chaumontel, "the rustic whom I +vanquished, at the moment of taking his first and last bath, cried +out to me with the voice of a devil who has caught cold: 'You<a name="page_184" id="page_184"></a> +cause me to be drowned, you shall be drowned!' and to Conrad: +'You outraged my wife, your wife shall be outraged!'"</p> + +<p>"The knight of Chaumontel is tipsy," murmured several +guests.</p> + +<p>"Such lugubrious stories about hanging and drowning are out +of place at a wedding."</p> + +<p>"Enough, Sir knight! Enough!"</p> + +<p>"Drink your wine in peace, good Sir!"</p> + +<p>"Wait till I prove it to you ... how I am a man of +singular powers of divination," continued Gerard. But the +hisses drowned his voice, and the Sire of Nointel, shivering despite +himself at the mournful recollection now evoked by his +friend, took the hand of Gloriande whom the maids of honor surrounded +and said to her while marching towards the nuptial +chamber: "Listen not to the fool; he is tipsy.... Come, +my beloved.... Love awaits us."</p> + +<p>Suddenly an equerry appeared like a specter at the large door +of the hall. His face was livid and his body streamed blood. +He took two steps forward, swayed on his feet and dropped +down upon the stone slabs which he reddened with his blood. +With his last dying breath he uttered these words "My seigneur.... +Oh, my seigneur.... Save yourself!"</p> + +<p>At the spectacle a cry of horror and fear leaped from every +mouth. The belle Gloriande, seized with terror, threw herself +into Conrad's arms. The guests, pale and stupefied, were for +an instant struck silent, while from the distance a formidable +noise seemed to approach. Another equerry, also pale as a +ghost and bleeding, ran in screaming in a broken voice:</p> + +<p>"Treason!... Treason!... The English prisoners +have cut the throats of the guards at the main gate of the +castle.... They opened it to a furious multitude.... +The assailants are here!"</p> + +<p>Immediately the cry of "Jacquerie! Jacquerie!" repeated<a name="page_185" id="page_185"></a> +from hundreds of throats, resounded outside the banquet hall, +and the glasses of the windows, beaten in with axes and pitchforks, +flew in all directions with a wild rush.</p> + +<p>A numerous band of Jacques, led by Adam the Devil and his +blackened companions who had performed the rôle of English +prisoners in that same hall that same morning, now rushed in +through the doors and broken windows. Guided by an identical +impulse, the terror-stricken noble assemblage crowded towards +the principal door expecting to escape at that issue. Their +exit was, however, intercepted by William Caillet and Mazurec, +who appeared at the threshold at the head of still another band +of Jacques armed with staves, scythes, forks and axes. Almost +all these peasants in arms were vassals of the seigneurs of Chivry +and Nointel. At the sight of the wan, savage, blood-stained, +half-naked mob, bearing on their bodies the impress of serfdom, +the dames and damosels uttered cries of terror and huddled +together in wild panic into the extreme corner of the hall. The +seigneurs, having according to usage doffed their armor to don +their gala dress, seized the table knives and the flagons of glass +and silver to defend themselves. The joyous fumes of wine +that at first confused their minds were soon dissipated and they +ranked themselves into an improvised barrier before the women.</p> + +<p>William Caillet swung his axe three times. At that signal +the tumultuous clamors of the Jacques was hushed by little and +little until the silence became profound, disturbed only by exclamations +and moans from the affrighted noble women.</p> + +<p>"My Jacques!" cries Caillet. "You brought ropes along. +First of all bind fast all the noblemen; kill on the spot whoever +resists; but keep alive the father and the husband of the +bride; also to keep alive the knight of Chaumontel. We have an +account to settle with them."</p> + +<p>"I shall take charge of those three," said Adam the Devil. +"Follow me, my alleged Englishmen. Get the ropes ready."</p> + +<p>The vassals flew upon the seigneurs. A few of them offered<a name="page_186" id="page_186"></a> +a desperate resistance and were killed, but the larger number +of the knights, demoralized and terror-stricken by the suddenness +of the attack allowed themselves to be bound. Among +these were the aged seigneur of Chivry, Gerard of Chaumontel +and the Sire of Nointel, the last of whom was torn from the +arms of his bride. More furious than frightened, Gloriande +gave a loose to imprecations and insults that she hurled at the +revolted serfs. Adam the Devil seized and overpowered her, +tearing in the attempt her wedding dress to shreds, and tied +her hands behind her back, while with refined ferocity he observed:</p> + +<p>"To each his turn, my noble damosel.... Last year you +laughed at us at the tourney of Nointel.... Now it is our +turn to laugh at you, my amorous belle!"</p> + +<p>"This English prisoner knows me!" exclaimed Gloriande. "Is +all this but a horrible dream? Conrad, revenge your wife!"</p> + +<p>"I am a vassal of the seigniory of Nointel, and not an Englishman, +my belle," answered Adam the Devil. "The rôle of +prisoner was imposed upon us by your noble husband, your +valiant knight, the Sire of Nointel, too much of a coward to +make real prisoners. He met us just outside of the forest and +ordered us under pain of hanging to accompany him hither +and be the accomplices of his trick upon you by figuring as the +English prisoners that he was to lead to you from the battle that +was fought. We consented to the masquerade. It helped us +in our plan to enter your father's castle. One of us, managing +to escape on the road, took to our companions the order to +draw near the manor by nightfall. We cut the throats of the +guards, lowered the bridge and let our Jacques in. Now we +are going to laugh at you, my belle ... just as you laughed +at us at the tourney of Nointel! It is now our turn to feast."</p> + +<p>Gloriande allowed Adam the Devil to speak without interrupting +him. And shuddering with painful indignation she +cried: "Conrad lied.... Conrad is a coward!"<a name="page_187" id="page_187"></a></p> + +<p>"Yes, your nobleman of a husband is a liar and a coward," +rejoined Adam the Devil, dragging Gloriande towards the other +extremity of the hall. "A beauty like you deserves a braver +husband. I shall take you to the kind of lover you have been +dreaming of."</p> + +<p>Gloriande of Chivry forgot for a moment the dangers that +beset her and the terror that had begun to seize her mind. Overwhelmed +by the idea, horrible to her pride, that Conrad of Nointel +was a coward, she let herself be dragged without resistance +towards the other end of the hall.</p> + +<p>In the center of the Jacques who had formed a circle stood +William Caillet reclining on the handle of his heavy axe; near +him were Jocelyn the Champion with his arms across his breast, +and Mazurec the Lambkin, now the widower of Aveline-who-never-lied. +Only partly clad in rough sheep-skin, his hair matted, +his arms bare and blood-bespattered, with the cavity of one +eye hollow, his nose crushed, his upper lip split—the serf presented +a repulsive aspect. Adam the Devil pushed Gloriande +towards Mazurec saying: "There is your new husband! Come, +my pretty lass, embrace your lord and master!"</p> + +<p>At the sight of the disfigured serf Gloriande drew back and +uttered a cry of fright; but terror palsied her brain when she +saw Mazurec slowly advancing upon her with his one eye burning +with hatred, and laying his callous hand upon her shoulder say +in a hollow voice: "In the name of force ... you are +mine ... the same as in the name of force my bride Aveline +belonged to Conrad of Nointel...."</p> + +<p>"What is the monster saying?" muttered the distracted Gloriande +drawing back and seeking to free herself from the grasp +of the vassal. "Father!... Come to my help, father!"</p> + +<p>The noble seigneur of Chivry lay nearby bound hand and foot, +the same as Gerard of Chaumontel and Conrad of Nointel, the +last of whom, out of his senses with fright and crushed with<a name="page_188" id="page_188"></a> +remorse, neither heard nor saw aught, but was muttering between +his teeth: "Have mercy upon me, my Lord God!... +I am a great sinner.... I repent having outraged that vassal's +bride...."</p> + +<p>"Help, father!" Gloriande continued to cry, ever seeking to +escape the grip of Mazurec, whose nails, now long and bent +like those of a bird of prey, dug deep into the flesh of the Sire +of Nointel's bride and held her firmly while he exclaimed: +"This noble damosel is mine!"</p> + +<p>"Vassal!" cried the seigneur of Chivry gasping for breath +and addressing Caillet: "You are the chief of these bandits; +save my daughter's life and honor and I promise to pardon +you.... Be merciful.... I swear by the living God, +I shall remit the punishment that your crimes deserve!"</p> + +<p>"Noble seigneur," replied the chief of the Jacques with +ominously sinister calmness, "the wedding day of the child whom +we love is a beautiful day! It is a beautiful day for the +nobles—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, indeed I believed this morning that the wedding day +of my daughter Gloriande would be a beautiful day for me."</p> + +<p>"So did I imagine on the morning of the day when my daughter +Aveline-who-never-lied wedded.... A vassal has a +father's heart.... I tenderly loved my daughter.... +She was a sweet and pure girl, the pride of my miserable life.... +Your son-in-law, the Sire of Nointel, had my daughter +dragged to his bed ... the next day he returned her to +me!"</p> + +<p>"The Sire of Nointel only exercised the right he has over +all brides who are not noble!... It is his right of first +fruits.... It is the feudal law!"</p> + +<p>"Conrad of Nointel exercised a right that he derived from +force.... To-day the Jacques are stronger, and they will, +in turn, exercise their right," answered Caillet without abandoning<a name="page_189" id="page_189"></a> +his savage calmness. "Mazurec, my daughter's bridegroom +sought to resist the ignomy she was threatened with.... +In punishment for his rebellion he was compelled to make the +amende honorable on his knees before his seigneur.... Yesterday +my daughter, together with so many other victims, was +smothered to death by the smoke that the bailiff of the Sire of +Nointel ordered the cavern in which they had taken refuge +to be filled with.... 'An eye for an eye, a tooth for a +tooth!' ... So says Scripture.... The Sire of Nointel +has outraged the bride of Mazurec the Lambkin.... +Now the bride of the Sire of Nointel belongs to Mazurec."</p> + +<p>The Jacques greeted the sentence of their chief with triumphant +acclaim, while with one kick Adam the Devil broke +open the door of Gloriande's nuptial chamber, and by the light +of the torches of perfumed wax that burned within from massive +candlesticks of silver, the Jacques saw the dazzling interior of the +apartment.</p> + +<p>Painting with terror Gloriande still struggled with Mazurec +who dragged her to the nuptial couch. "Father! Deliver +me!" cried the agonized belle.</p> + +<p>"Thus did Aveline call me to her help," said William Caillet +with his foot on the Count of Chivry. "You shall drain the cup +to the lees!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, death! rather than to witness such atrocities!" cried +the Sire of Nointel. "Heaven and earth! To see that miserable +vassal dare to lay hands upon Gloriande! The scamp is +tearing down the curtains! He means to violate my bride!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! Oh! You are a rebel!" cried Adam the Devil laughing +loudly. "We now sentence you to make the amende honorable +on both knees before your master and seigneur, Jacques Bonhomme, +in the person of Mazurec; and you shall beg his pardon +for having insulted him ... for calling him scamp!"</p> + +<p>"Conrad, let us know how to die!" cried the knight of Chaumontel.<a name="page_190" id="page_190"></a> +"We shall soon be revenged upon these scamps; not +one of them will escape the lances of the knights."</p> + +<p>Jocelyn the Champion, who had until then stood by an impassive +witness, now stepped forward and heavily laying his +iron gauntlet upon the knight's shoulder said to him: "You +fought cased in iron against my brother Mazurec who was half +naked and armed only with a stick. I have decided that you +shall now fight him, yourself half naked and armed with a +stick, he cased in iron. If you are vanquished you shall be +thrown into a bag and drowned. To-day, from appellee, Jacques +Bonhomme has become appellant."</p> + +<p>"But before the combat," cried Adam the Devil, "let us take +supper, my Jacques; the table is set; plenty of wine is still left +in the flagons; also meats on the dishes!... Let us feast +before the eyes of these seigneurs, the fathers, brothers or husbands +of yonder dames and damosels!... Fall to, my +Jacques! Long live love and wine! After the feast we shall +lock up this whole nobility, men, women and children, in the +underground prisons of the castles! The ruins of the burnt-down +manor shall be their fitting tombstone.... Fall to, +Jacques Bonhomme.... Long live love and wine, and ours +be the dames and damosels of these nobles!"<a name="page_191" id="page_191"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_V-c" id="CHAPTER_V-c"></a>CHAPTER V.<br /><br /> +THE ORVILLE BRIDGE.</h3> + +<p>Night is about to yield to day; the moon is setting; the first +glimmerings of dawn begin to crimson the eastern sky. The +troop of Jacques, who fired the manor of Chivry after putting +its noble tenants to the sword, is now marching towards the +bridge that spans the Orville river, and from which, the year +before, tied in a bag, Mazurec was thrown into the water. At +the head of the troop march William, Mazurec, Jocelyn and +Adam the Devil. Behind them follow the Jacques leading the +Sire of Nointel and the knight of Chaumontel, half naked, unarmed +and pinioned. His head covered with the casque, clad in +the cuirass and coat of mail, and armed with the dagger and +sword of the knight of Chaumontel, Mazurec marches between +Jocelyn the Champion and Caillet. Halting at the crest of the +hill they had just ascended, and which commanded a wide view +of the surrounding country, the latter cried pointing in several +directions of the horizon that was either lighted with flames +or darkened with black clouds:</p> + +<p>"Do you see the castles of Chivry, of Bourgeuil, of Saint-Prix, +of Montsorin, of Villiers, of Rochemur and so many others, +aye, so many others, set this night on fire, sacked and their +noble masters put to the sword by bands of revolted serfs?... +Do you hear the village bells summoning the serfs to +arms?... They sound still! They are summoning the +Jacques to the hunt of the nobles!"</p> + +<p>Indeed, the hurried peals of the bells, loudly sounding from +a large number of villages that lay scattered in the fields and +forests, reached the hill, carried thither by the morning breeze. +The horizon, reflecting the flames that were devouring so many<a name="page_192" id="page_192"></a> +feudal manors, itself seemed on fire. Hardly were the first +rays of the sun able to penetrate the thickness of the somber mass +of smoke.</p> + +<p>"The sight is worth the music!" remarked Adam the Devil +listening to the sound of the bells. Crossing his arms behind +him, spreading out his legs, and poising himself on his robust +loins he swept with an eager eye the flaming curtain of the distant +conflagrations. "There they are on fire and in ruins, those +proud donjons cemented in the blood and the sweat of our people, +and that for centuries have been the terror of our fathers! +Ha! Ha! Ha!" and laughing boisterously the serf proceeded: +"What mournful scenes must now be enacting at those manors!"</p> + +<p>"At this hour," observed Caillet, "in Beauvoisis, in Laonnais, +in Picardy, in Vermandois, in Champagne, everywhere, in the +Isle of France, Jacques Bonhomme is making similar bonfires! +Everywhere the nobility and their supporting priests are being +massacred!"</p> + +<p>"I wish I could see all the fires!" exclaimed Adam the Devil, +raising his head. "I would like to hear all the cries uttered by +these nobles!"</p> + +<p>"Oh!" observed Jocelyn, with profound sorrow, "if the cries +of our fathers, the male and female serfs and vassals, who for so +many hundreds of years have endured martyrdom, could reach +us across the centuries!... Oh! if the cries of our mothers, +borne down by serfdom, starved in misery, and outraged by the +seigneurs, could now reach us across these many centuries.... +If that could be, then the frightful concert of maledictions, of +imprecations and of cries of pain that would reach us would +drown that which now goes up from these feudal strongholds!... +The hour of justice has come at last!"</p> + +<p>"Brother," said Mazurec, sad and dejected, while hastening +his steps so as to leave Caillet and Adam the Devil behind and +snatch a few moments of privacy with Jocelyn, "I have an admission +<a name="page_193" id="page_193"></a>to make to you ... and perhaps also to pray your +indulgence for a weakness of my heart.... When I had +dragged the bride of Conrad into her nuptial chamber ... +and after the door was closed behind us, Gloriande threw herself +at my feet, and with joined hands she implored mercy. I said +to myself: 'My poor Aveline must have prayed for mercy ... +she must have suffered terribly.' I wept at the thought of Aveline; +I forgot my hatred and my vengeance. Seeing me weep, +Gloriande redoubled her supplications. I then said to her: 'In +my condition of serf I had but one joy in the world, the love of +Aveline-who-never-lied.... She was outraged by my seigneur, +your bridegroom.... After months of suffering and +despair she died, smothered by smoke in the cavern of Nointel +shortly before being delivered of the child of her shame.... +It seems to me I see my poor Aveline, on her knees, like you now, +asking for mercy.... It is her whom I pity.... You +need not fear me!' And Gloriande took my hands in hers, +kissed and moistened them with her tears.... She begged +me to allow her to escape by a secret passage. I consented. I +remained in the room, thinking of Aveline until they set fire to +the castle. I did not wish to outrage my seigneur's bride.... +Vengeance would not have restored to me my lost happiness."</p> + +<p>"Oh, my poor brother! Gentle soul! Generous heart!" answered +Jocelyn, deeply moved. "You whom nature made Mazurec +the Lambkin and whom your master's ferocity transformed +into Mazurec the Wolf! You were born to love, not to hate! +Oh, you speak truly! Vengeance does not return the lost happiness! +Sublime martyr, you need no indulgence for your generous +conduct! Your heart did not fail you; it inspired itself +with the principle of mercy proclaimed by the young carpenter +of Nazareth!" And seeing that Adam the Devil and Caillet +were approaching, Jocelyn added, in a low voice: "Brother, let +none know that you respected Gloriande; above all, Conrad must, +for his punishment, believe that his bride was dishonored!" +Turning then to Caillet, who had just joined the two, Jocelyn<a name="page_194" id="page_194"></a> +observed: "We shall soon be at the Orville bridge. Our friends +are anxious we should reach the spot quickly. The work of punishment +is not yet finished."</p> + +<p>The slanting rays of the sun now glisten in the rapid waters +of the Orville that the previous year had swallowed up Mazurec +pinioned and tied in a bag. On its banks still stand the trunks +of the old willow trees from which were hanged the serfs caught +in the riot of the tourney. The morning breeze agitates the reeds +that concealed Adam the Devil and Jocelyn during the preparations +for the death of Mazurec, and from behind which they had +succeeded in rescuing him.</p> + +<p>The Jacques arrived at the bridge, crossed it and stepped upon +the broad meadow in the middle of which the last year's tourney +given by the seigneur of Nointel was held. They halted there. +A large number of them had been spectators of the passage of +arms, and had afterwards witnessed the judicial duel between +Mazurec and the knight of Chaumontel. Obedient to the orders +of Caillet, several peasants proceeded to cut it with their scythes +young tree branches, that they stuck in the ground, forming an +enclosure about thirty feet square, in imitation of the fence or +barrier of tourneys. The enclosure being ready, the Jacques +crowded in dense ranks around it.</p> + +<p>At a signal, William Caillet approached the men who led +the pinioned Sire of Nointel and the knight of Chaumontel. +The latter, though pale, still preserved his resoluteness; the +former, however, looking dejected and discouraged, was now +a prey to superstitious terror. He sees verified the sinister +prophecy of his vassal, who the year before had said to him: +"You have outraged my bride, your bride shall be outraged."</p> + +<p>Of all his attire, the Sire of Nointel has preserved only his +jerkin and velvet shoes, now in shreds from the roughness of +the road. Cold drops of perspiration gather at his temples. +Caillet addresses him: "Last year my daughter was forcibly<a name="page_195" id="page_195"></a> +placed in your bed ... last night Mazurec, the wronged +bridegroom whom we saved from the watery grave that you decreed +to him, returned outrage for outrage.... My daughter +and many other victims died an atrocious death in the cavern +of the forest of Nointel, last night your bride and many other +nobles died in the underground dungeons of the castle of Chivry +that Jacques Bonhomme set on fire.... But that is not +yet enough. Mazurec was sentenced to make the amende honorable +to you because he insulted you; seeing that you insulted +Mazurec when he dragged away your wife, you shall now make +the amende honorable on your knees before Mazurec. If you refuse," +added Caillet, seeing the enraged seigneur stamp the +ground with his feet, "if you refuse, I shall then sentence you +to the same death that you have inflicted upon several of your +vassals. Two young and strong trees shall be bent, you shall be +tied by the feet to the one and by the arms to the other, the saplings +will then be let free to straighten themselves up again.... +You are forewarned, Sire of Nointel!"</p> + +<p>"I witnessed the death of my friend Toussaint the Heavy-bell, +who was dismembered in that manner by your orders between two +oak saplings!" interposed Adam the Devil. "I know exactly how +it must be done in order to manage that torture successfully. +Now choose between the amende honorable or the death we just +described."</p> + +<p>"Submit, Conrad!" said the knight of Chaumontel, with bitter +disdain. "Let us submit to the extreme limit of the excesses +of these varlets. We will be revenged. Oh, soon again the +casque will resume the upperhand over the woolen cap, and the +lance over the fork."</p> + +<p>Shivering with dismay at the threatened torture, Conrad of +Nointel answered his friend in a hoarse voice: "Gerard, do not +leave me alone!"</p> + +<p>"I shall be your faithful companion to the end," answered +the knight. "We have joyously emptied more than one cup together, +we shall die together."</p> + +<p>Led by Jacques, the two nobles were placed in the center<a name="page_196" id="page_196"></a> +of the enclosure, around which stood the revolted vassals. Many +of them had also witnessed the amende honorable of Mazurec, +who, now armed in the armor of the knight of Chaumontel, is +standing near the center of the lists, reclining on his long +sword.</p> + +<p>"On your knees!" ordered Adam the Devil to the Sire of +Nointel, and pressing down with his strong hands the seigneur's +shoulders, he made him drop on his knees at the feet of Mazurec. +"And now, noble seigneur, repeat my words:</p> + +<p>"Seigneur Jacques Bonhomme, I blame myself and humbly +repent having used unseemly words against you when last night +you dragged my noble bride...."</p> + +<p>Outbursts of laughter, jeers and cat-calls from the Jacques +greeted these words, which recalled to the Sire of Nointel both +the forfeiture of his happiness and the disgrace of his bride. +He shrank together, emitted a roar of pain, and burning tears +dropped from his eyes while grinding his teeth he muttered: +"Death and massacre!"</p> + +<p>"That is quite painful, is it not, Sire of Nointel," suggested +Caillet, "to be forced to beg pardon on one's knees for having +wished to resist the outrage that is racking your mind? Poor +Mazurec the Lambkin went through this shame only last year, +as you are doing now!... It is justice!... Stay +on your knees!"</p> + +<p>"Come, let's hurry!" resumed Adam the Devil, "make the +amende honorable on your knees before Jacques Bonhomme, if +not, you shall be dismembered on the spot, my noble Sire!"</p> + +<p>The Sire of Nointel answered only with a fresh roar of rage, +writhing in his bonds: "Oh, my unhappy life!"</p> + +<p>"Conrad," said Gerard, "repeat the empty words, yield to +these cowardly varlets. What can you do against force? There +is nothing but to submit."</p> + +<p>"Never!" cried the Sire of Nointel, in a frenzy of rage. +"Sooner a thousand deaths! To ask pardon of that miserable<a name="page_197" id="page_197"></a> +serf ... when before my own eyes he dragged away my +bride ... my beautiful and proud Gloriande ...," +and breaking out again in a cry of rage: "Blood and massacre! +A minute ago I felt overwhelmed.... I now feel hell +burning in my breast.... Oh, if only I were free ... I +would tear these varlets to pieces with my nails and teeth! I +would put them through a thousand deaths!"</p> + +<p>"Sire of Nointel, if upon your knees you make the amende +honorable to Mazurec, I shall then put a sword in your hand," +said Jocelyn the Champion slowly drawing near. "I promise +to fight with you, and you will then at least die as a man. Come, +on your knees!"</p> + +<p>"True?" mumbled Conrad, his mind wandering with despair +and rage, "you will give me a sword?... I shall be able +to die seeing the blood of one of you flow ... you miserable +rebels!"</p> + +<p>Seizing the naked sword that his brother held in his hand, +Jocelyn took it and threw it on the ground a few paces from +Conrad, and planting his foot upon the blade said: "Make the +amende honorable—you will then be unbound and you may take +this sword ... then there shall be a combat to the death +between us two, son of Neroweg!"</p> + +<p>"Come, my handsome Sir," resumed Adam the Devil addressing +Conrad, "come, repeat after me—'Seigneur Jacques Bonhomme, +I blame myself and humbly repent....'"</p> + +<p>"Seigneur Jacques Bonhomme," repeated Conrad of Nointel +in a voice strangling with rage and casting a furtive look at +the sword only the sight of which imparted to him the necessary +strength to perform the revolting expiatory act. "Seigneur +Jacques Bonhomme, I blame myself and humbly repent.... +Shame and humiliation!"</p> + +<p>"Having used unseemly words against you, Seigneur Jacques +Bonhomme," proceeded Adam the Devil amidst new outbursts<a name="page_198" id="page_198"></a> +of laughter and jeers from the Jacques, "when last night you +were about to outrage my bride on the nuptial bed ... my +belle Gloriande of Chivry."</p> + +<p>"No, no, never," cried Conrad of Nointel, foaming at the +mouth, "I never shall repeat those infamous words!"</p> + +<p>Jocelyn took off and threw his casque at a distance, unbuckled +his steel corselet, threw away his armlets, pulled off his leather +jerkin, preserving only that part of his armor that covered his +thighs and lower extremities, removed his shirt, leaving his +breast bare, and said to the Sire of Nointel: "Here is flesh to +bore holes through, if you can.... I am wounded in the +thigh ... that evens up your chances; moreover, I swear +I shall strike only at your breast; yes, I swear it, as truly as, +freeman or serfs, my ancestors have during the centuries that +rolled over us crossed swords with yours!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you dog whom my ancestors conquered.... I shall +kill you!" cried Conrad of Nointel nearly delirious. Retaining +his posture on his knees before Mazurec, he muttered, gasping +for breath: "I repent, seigneur Jacques Bonhomme ... of +having used unseemly words ... against you ... +when you sought ... to outrage ... my bride in her +nuptial bed...."</p> + +<p>"The belle Gloriande of Chivry, and pronounce the name distinctly," +said Adam the Devil. "Now, hurry up!"</p> + +<p>"The ... belle ... Gloriande ... of ... +Chivry ..." repeated Conrad, as if tearing the words +from his breast.</p> + +<p>"High, puissant and redoubtable seigneur of Nointel, Jacques +Bonhomme pardons you for the outrage he perpetrated upon +you!" now put in Mazurec in the midst of a fresh explosion of +triumphant laughter and contemptuous jeers uttered by the +Jacques.</p> + +<p>"The sword! The sword!" cried Conrad rising livid and<a name="page_199" id="page_199"></a> +fearful with rage, but with his hands still pinioned behind him, +and addressing Jocelyn. "You promised me blood ... +yours ... or mine.... I wish to die seeing blood.... +To the sword, to the sword!"</p> + +<p>"Remove his bonds," said the champion with his feet still on +the sword that lay on the ground and drawing his own.</p> + +<p>While the Jacques were unfastening the bonds that held the +arms of the seigneur of Nointel, the knight of Chaumontel took +a step towards his friend and said to him: "Farewell, Conrad +... you are blinded with rage ... you are weakened +by the trials of last night ... you will be killed by that +Hercules ... a champion by profession.... But we +shall be revenged."</p> + +<p>"I killed!" cried the Sire of Nointel with a ghostly smile. +"No, no; it is I who will kill the dog.... I will cut the +vagabond's throat!"</p> + +<p>"Recommend your soul to St. James," said Gerard in a penetrating +voice to Conrad; "an invocation to him is sovereign +in cases of duels."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I shall invoke my hatred," replied Conrad twitching his +arms that Adam the Devil was about to unloosen. But Jocelyn +made a sign to his companion to wait a moment before untying +the Sire of Nointel, and then turning to the revolted serfs he +made to them this vigorous and terse address:</p> + +<p>"It is now eleven hundred years ago ... one of my ancestors, +<i>Schavanoch the Soldier</i>—the foster brother of Victoria +the Great, the emperor woman who predicted the enfranchisement +of Gaul—fought against one of the chiefs of the Frankish +hordes who then threatened to invade Gaul, our mother country; +that Frankish chieftain was called <i>Neroweg the Terrible Eagle</i>, +and he was the ancestor of the Sire of Nointel, whom you there +see before you.... Two centuries later, the Franks, thanks +to the complicity of the Bishop of Rome, had succeeded in conquering +Gaul and in reducing her inhabitants to a condition of<a name="page_200" id="page_200"></a> +most cruel slavery; our land thereupon became a prey to our +conquerors, and we moistened it with our sweat, our tears and +our blood.... During the first years of the Frankish conquest, +Karadeuk the Bagaude, the ancestor of both Mazurec and +myself, a revolted slave, fought with Neroweg, Count of Auvergne, +count by the right of rapine and murder. That Neroweg +had subjected to a cruel torture Loysik the Working-Hermit and +Ronan the Vagre, sons of Karadeuk the Bagaude. Bagaudie +and Vagrerie were the Jacquerie of those days. Vagres and +Bagaudes revenged themselves then as the Jacques do now for +the oppression of the seigneurs. In that fight between Karadeuk +the Bagaude and the Count Neroweg, Neroweg fell under the +axe of Karadeuk.... Coming down to three centuries ago, +another of my ancestors, Den-Brao the Mason was buried alive +together with several other serfs, his fellow workmen, by Neroweg +IV, Count of Plouernel in Brittany."</p> + +<p>"That noble thereby buried together with Den-Brao the secret of +an underground passage that they had been made to construct, +leading from the feudal manor into the forest. The grandson of +Den-Brao, who remained a serf of the seigniory of Plouernel, was +called Fergan the Quarryman. Neroweg VI kidnapped a son of +Fergan for the purpose of applying the child to the bloody sorceries +of a witch. Fergan succeeded in rescuing his child, but he witnessed +the murder of his two relatives Bezenecq the Rich and +Bezenecq's daughter Isoline. Unable to pay an enormous ransom +imposed upon him by Neroweg VI, Bezenecq perished under +the torture, while Isoline, the witness of her father's torment, +became insane and died. Then came the days of the Crusades. +Fergan and his seigneur met face to face and alone in the middle +of the desert of Syria. Fergan could have killed him by surprise, +but he fought him and vanquished.... Finally, only a +year ago, my brother Mazurec the Lambkin has seen his bride +dishonored by the Sire of Nointel, the scion of the Nerowegs of +old, he forced my brother to make him the amende honorable at<a name="page_201" id="page_201"></a> +his feet, and thereupon to fight half naked with the knight of +Chaumontel in full armor. Vanquished in this unequal combat +and sentenced to be drowned in a bag, Mazurec would have perished +but for Adam the Devil and myself, who succeeded in +drawing him out of the river betimes, but his wife, Aveline-who-never-lied, +died an atrocious death only a few days ago. +The history of my family's sufferings is the history of the families +of us all, the enslaved and oppressed of your class, Sire of +Nointel, during so many centuries! Aye, among the thousands +upon thousands of revolted vassals, who at this hour are running +to arms, there is not one whose family has not undergone +what mine has! The narrative of Mazurec's family and mine +is theirs also. Do you now understand the treasury of hatred +and of vengeance that has been heaping up from century to century +in the indignant breast of Jacques Bonhomme? Do you +understand that from age to age the fathers bequeathed this +hatred to their children as the only heritage left to them by +servitude? Do you understand that the vassal has a frightful +account to settle with his seigneur? Do you understand how, in +his turn, Jacques Bonhomme has no mercy and no pity? Do +you, finally, understand that if at this moment, instead of fighting +you, I were to kill you like a wolf caught in a trap, the act +would be just? You have but one life, but innumerable are the +lives of the Gauls taken by you, and much larger yet those taken +by your class!"</p> + +<p>An explosion of fury from the Jacques marked the close of +these words. Sufficiently exasperated against the Sire of Nointel, +they felt that the narrative of Jocelyn's family was that of +the martyrdom on earth endured by Jacques Bonhomme.</p> + +<p>"Death to the seigneur!... Death without combat!" +repeated the insurgents. "Death to him, like a wolf caught in +a trap!"</p> + +<p>"Vassal, you promised to fight with me!" cried Conrad of +Nointel. "Of what use are these ancient stories?"<a name="page_202" id="page_202"></a></p> + +<p>"Do you repudiate the acts of your ancestors? Do you repudiate +your class?"</p> + +<p>"Even with your sword at my throat I shall to the very end +pronounce myself proud of belonging to the warrior class that +has held you under the whip and the stick, ye miserable serfs.... +Even dying would I smite your faces!"</p> + +<p>With a wafture of his hand Jocelyn restrains a fresh explosion +of fury from the Jacques, and says to Adam the Devil: +"Deliver the seigneur of his bonds.... Once more in the +course of the centuries a son of Joel and a son of Neroweg shall +take each other's measure, sword in hand!"</p> + +<p>"And may my stock again meet yours to the undoing of your +own!" answered Conrad of Nointel in a hollow voice. "The +elder branch of my family still occupies its domains in Auvergne +... and my father's brother has sons! The race of the +Nerowegs will reappear across the ages!"</p> + +<p>"Battle!... Battle!" said Jocelyn. "It shall be a +battle to the death, without quarter or mercy.... Battle!"</p> + +<p>"And also I, brother, shall have neither pity nor mercy for +that thief, the cause of all my misfortunes!" cried Mazurec, pointing +at the knight of Chaumontel, and added: "Adam, untie +also his hands. There is room enough here for a double combat. +My brother shall have the seigneur.... I shall take +this thief of a knight. Give me a pitch-fork, the fork is the +lance of Jacques Bonhomme."</p> + +<p>Freed of his bonds and clad only in his shirt and hose, Gerard +of Chaumontel receives from William Caillet a stick to defend +himself with, and from Adam the Devil a rude push that +throws him in front of Mazurec, who, protected from head to +foot by the knight's own armor, holds up his three-pronged and +sharp fork.</p> + +<p>"Come up, you double thief!" Mazurec called out; "must I +step forward to meet you?"<a name="page_203" id="page_203"></a></p> + +<p>[The knight of Chaumontel, pale from fright and pursued by the cries of +(these words missing due to printer's error, here translated from the +French version by the etext transcriber)] the Jacques, grasps his stick +with both hands and forcing a smile on his lips answers: "The +heralds-at-arms have not yet given +the signal."</p> + +<p>In the meantime, Conrad of Nointel, whose arms have been +unbound, stooped down to seize the sword from which Jocelyn +had not yet lifted his foot.</p> + +<p>"One moment!" cried the champion, always with his foot +firmly on the sword. "Sire of Nointel, look me in the face +... if you dare!"</p> + +<p>Conrad raised his head, fastened his glistening eyes upon his +adversary and asked: "What do you want?"</p> + +<p>"Worthy Sire, I wish to goad you to the combat. I mistrust +your courage. You fled like a coward at the battle of Poitiers, +and a minute ago you referred to me as a vile slave fit only for +the whip and the cane—"</p> + +<p>"And I say so again!" yelled Conrad turning red and white +with rage, "you vagabond!"</p> + +<p>"Take this for the insult!" came from Jocelyn like a flash +while buffeting the livid face of Conrad of Nointel. "These +slaps are the goad I promised you. Even if you were more +cowardly than a hare, fury will now serve you instead of courage!" +Saying this Jocelyn made a leap backward, placing himself +on his guard and leaving the sword on the ground free. +Crazed with rage, Conrad of Nointel seized the weapon and +rushed upon Jocelyn at the very moment that, armed with his +stick, Gerard of Chaumontel was rapidly retreating before the +approaching prongs of Mazurec's fork.</p> + +<p>"Infamous thief!" cried the vassal pressing the knight with +his fork; "I had more courage than you.... I threw myself +under the feet of your horse, and seized you hand to hand!"</p> + +<p>"My Jacques!" cried out Adam the Devil seeing the knight +of Chaumontel still retreating before Mazurec, "cross your +scythes behind that knight of cowardice; let him fall under +your iron if he tries to escape Mazurec's fork."<a name="page_204" id="page_204"></a></p> + +<p>The Jacques followed Adam the Devil's suggestion; at the +same time that Mazurec ran forward with his fork Gerard of +Chaumontel perceived a formidable array of scythes rise behind +him.</p> + +<p>"Cowardly varlets! Infamous scamps! You abuse your +strength!"</p> + +<p>"And you, worthy knight," answered Adam the Devil, "did not +you abuse your strength when you fought on horseback and in +full armor against Mazurec half naked and with only a stick to +defend himself?"</p> + +<p>During this short dialogue, the Sire of Nointel was impetuously +charging upon Jocelyn. Rendered dexterous in the handling +of the sword by the practice of the tourneys, young, agile and +vigorous, he aims many an adroit blow at Jocelyn, who, however, +parries them all like a consummate gladiator, while pricking +his adversary with the contemptuous remark. "To know +how to handle a sword so well, and yet to retreat so pitifully at +the battle of Poitiers! What a shame!"</p> + +<p>With a rapid step back Jocelyn evades at that instant a dangerous +thrust of Conrad of Nointel's sword, retorts with a vigorous +pass, smites his adversary on the shoulder and, to his great +astonishment, sees him suddenly roll on the ground, seem to +stiffen his members, and then remain motionless.</p> + +<p>"What?" observed the champion lowering his sword, "dead +with so little? Beaten down so quickly?"</p> + +<p>"Brother, look out ... it probably is a ruse!" cried +Mazurec, at whom Gerard of Chaumontel had finally aimed so +furious a blow with his stick that it broke into splinters against +the iron casque on the vassal's head. "Without the casque I +would now be a dead man. Oh! that's a good practice you +knights have of fighting so well armed against half naked Jacques +Bonhomme!" Although somewhat dazed by the shock, Mazurec +plunged his fork into the bowels of the robber knight, who fell +blaspheming. Observing that Conrad still remained motionless<a name="page_205" id="page_205"></a> +on the ground, Mazurec repeated the warning: "Look out, +brother! It is a ruse!"</p> + +<p>And so it was. Astonished at the fall of his adversary Jocelyn +was stooping over him when the Sire of Nointel suddenly rose +on his haunches, seized the champion's leg with one hand, and +with the other sought to stab his adversary in the flank with a +dagger that he had kept concealed in his hose. Taken by surprise +and pulled by a leg, Jocelyn lost his balance.</p> + +<p>"Viper!" cried Jocelyn dropping his sword and falling upon +Conrad whose hand he struggled to overpower. "I was on the +look-out.... I thought your death was feigned!" and +wresting the dagger from Conrad's hand, Jocelyn plunged it in +his adversary's breast: "Die, thou son of the Nerowegs!"</p> + +<p>"Gerard!" muttered Conrad, dying, "I ... was wrong +... in violating the vassal's wife.... Oh, Gloriande!"</p> + +<p>Hardly had Jocelyn stepped aside from the corpse of the Sire +of Nointel when his vassals, so often the victims of his cruelty, +precipitated themselves upon the arena, and plying their forks, +scythes and axes with savage fury on the still warm body of their +recent tyrant, mutilated it beyond recognition. In the meantime, +aided by other Jacques, Adam the Devil raised the knight +of Chaumontel, who, though mortally wounded by the thrust +of Mazurec's fork, was still alive, and called out: "Fetch the +bag and ropes!"</p> + +<p>A peasant brought a bag with which they had provided themselves +at the castle of Chivry. The bleeding body of the knight +of Chaumontel was placed within and tied fast so as to allow +his cadaverous head to stick out, and the bundle was carried +to the Orville bridge.</p> + +<p>"Do you recall my prophecy," Mazurec asked the knight, with +a diabolical smile; "I prophesied you would be drowned."</p> + +<p>Gerard of Chaumontel uttered a deep moan. A superstitious +terror now overpowered him. His wonted haughtiness was no +more. In a fainting voice he murmured: "Oh, St. James, have +pity upon me.... Oh, St. James, intercede for me....<a name="page_206" id="page_206"></a> +with our Lord and all his saints.... I am justly punished.... +I stole the vassal's purse.... Oh, Lord, Oh, +Lord, have pity upon me!"</p> + +<p>Arrived at the Orville bridge, the peasants threw the bagged +body of the knight of Chaumontel into the river amid the frantic +cheers of the Jacques, who exclaimed: "May thus perish all +seigneurs!"<a name="page_207" id="page_207"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_VI-c" id="CHAPTER_VI-c"></a>CHAPTER VI.<br /><br /> +ON TO CLERMONT!</h3> + +<p>Tarrying a moment on the Orville bridge, which the Jacques +had left on the march to join other bands and proceed in stronger +force against other seigniories, Jocelyn noticed a rider approaching +at full gallop. A few minutes later he recognized the rider +to be Rufin the Tankard-smasher, who soon reined in near the +bridge, followed at a distance by a considerable number of insurgents.</p> + +<p>Jumping off his horse Rufin said to Jocelyn: "I learned from +the peasants coming up behind me that there was a large gathering +of Jacques at this place; I thought I would find you among +them and hastened hither to deliver to you a letter from Master +Marcel.... Great events are transpiring in Paris."</p> + +<p>Jocelyn eagerly took the missive, and while he read it, Rufin +the Tankard-smasher went on saying: "By Jupiter! The company +of an honorable woman brings good luck. When I used +to have Margot on my arms, I always ran up against some accident; +on the other hand, nothing could have been happier than +this trip of mine to Paris with Alison the Huffy, who, I fancy, is +huffy only at Cupid. We arrived in Paris without accident, and +Dame Marguerite received Alison with great friendship. Oh, +my friend! I worship that tavern-keeper. Fie! What an improper +term! No! That Hebe! And was not Hebe the Olympian +tavern-keeper? Oh, if Alison would only have me for her +husband, we would set up a lovely tavern, intended especially +for the students of the University. The shield would be splendid. +It would exhibit Greek and Latin verses appealing to the +topers, such as: "Like Bacchus does——"</p> + +<p>Jocelyn here interrupted the student, saying with much animation +after he had finished Etienne Marcel's letter: "Rufin, I<a name="page_208" id="page_208"></a> +return with you to Paris; the provost has orders for me. Mazurec +is revenged. Everywhere the Jacques are rising according +to the information that reaches Marcel from the provinces. The +formidable movement must now be directed and utilized. The +Jacquerie must be organized. Wait for me a minute. I shall be +back immediately."</p> + +<p>Jocelyn thereupon called to Adam the Devil, Mazurec and +William Caillet, who had also remained behind, took them aside +and said: "Marcel calls me to his side. The Regent has withdrawn +to Compiegne; he has declared Paris out of the pale of the +law and is preparing to march upon the city at the head of the +royal troops; they are waiting for him, and will give him a warm +reception. All the communal towns, Meaux, Amiens, Laon, +Beauvais, Noyons, Senlis are in arms. Everywhere the peasants +are rising and the bourgeois and guild corporations are joining +them. The King of Navarre is captain-general of Paris. The +man deserves the nickname of 'Wicked,' nevertheless he is a +powerful instrument. Marcel will break him if he deviate from +the right path and refuse to bow before the popular sovereignty. +The hour of Gaul's enfranchisement has sounded at last. In +order to carry the work to a successful issue, the Jacquerie will +have to be regulated. These scattered and dispersed bands must +gather together, must discipline their forces and form an army +capable of coping, first with that of the Regent, and then with +the English. We must first crush the inside foe and then the +foreign one."</p> + +<p>"That is right," said Caillet, thoughtfully. "Ten scattered +bands can not accomplish much; the ten together can. I am +known in Beauvoisis. Our Jacques will follow me wherever I +lead them. Once the seigneurs are exterminated, we shall fall +upon the English, a vermin that gnaws at the little that seigneurs +and their clergy leave us."</p> + +<p>"Yesterday's butcheries have opened my appetite," cried Adam +the Devil, brandishing his scythe. "We shall mow down the +English to the last man. Death to all oppressors!"<a name="page_209" id="page_209"></a></p> + +<p>"The crop will be fine if we mow together," replied Jocelyn. +"Meaux, Senlis, Beauvais and Clermont are awaiting the Jacques +with open arms. Their gates will be opened to the peasants. +These will find there food and arms."</p> + +<p>"Iron and bread! We need no more!" put in William Caillet. +"And what is Marcel's plan?"</p> + +<p>"These fortified cities, occupied by the Jacques and the armed +bourgeoisie, will hold the Regent's troops in check in the provinces," +answered Jocelyn. "The other sections of the country are +to organize themselves similarly. Now, listen well to Marcel's +instructions. The King of Navarre is on our side because he +expects with the support of the popular party to dethrone the +Regent. He occupies Clermont with his troops. Thence he is +to proceed to Paris and meet the royal army under the walls +of the city. He needs reinforcements. Marcel mistrusts him. +Now, then, you are to gather all the bands of Jacques into a body +and proceed to Clermont at the head of eight thousand men. +You can then join Charles the Wicked without fear, although +he is never to be trusted. But as his own forces barely number +two thousand foot soldiers and five hundred horsemen, in case of +treason they would be crushed by the Jacques, who would out-number +them four to one."</p> + +<p>"Agreed," answered William Caillet, after carefully listening +to the champion, "and from Clermont are we to march straight +to Paris?"</p> + +<p>"Upon your arrival at Clermont you will receive further instructions +from Marcel. To overpower the nobility, dethrone +the Regent and chase the foreigners from our soil—that is the +provost's programme. When the campaign shall be over, the +hour of Jacques Bonhomme's enfranchisement will have come. +Delivered from the tyranny of the seigneurs and the pillaging +of the English, free, happy and at peace, the peasant will then +be able to enjoy the fruits of his arduous labors and will be +able to taste without molestation the sweet pleasures of the +hearth.... Yes, you William Caillet, you Adam the Devil,<a name="page_210" id="page_210"></a> +you Mazurec, and so many others who have been wounded in +your tenderest feelings, you will have been the last martyrs of +the seigneurs and clergy, you will be the liberators of your +kind."</p> + +<p>"Jocelyn, whatever may now happen, vanquisher or vanquished, +I can die in peace. My daughter is revenged!" said +William Caillet. "I promise to lead more than ten thousand +men to the walls of Clermont. The blood of the seigneurs and +their priests who have outraged us, the conflagrations of their +castles and churches, from which they issued to oppress us, will +mark the route of the Jacques."</p> + +<p>"Marcel recalls me to Paris; I shall return to him; but you +will meet me at Clermont, where I shall convey to you further +instructions." And pressing Mazurec to his heart: "Adieu, my +brother, my poor brother! We shall soon meet again. William, +I leave him with you. Watch over the unfortunate lad!"</p> + +<p>"I love him as I did my daughter! She will be the topic of +our conversation. And we shall fight like men who no longer +care for life."</p> + +<p>After this exchange of adieus, Jocelyn turned back to Paris +with Rufin the Tankard-smasher on the crupper of his horse.<a name="page_211" id="page_211"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_VII-c" id="CHAPTER_VII-c"></a>CHAPTER VII.<br /><br /> +CLERMONT.</h3> + +<p>Charles the Wicked, King of Navarre, occupied at Clermont, +in the province of Beauvoisis, the castle of the count of the +place—a vast edifice one of whose towers dominated the square +called the "Suburb." The first floor of the donjon, lighted by a +long ogive window, formed a large circular hall. There, near a +table, sat Charles the Wicked. It was early morning. The +prince asked one of his equerries:</p> + +<p>"Has the scaffold been erected?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Sire, you can see it from this window. It is just as you +ordered it."</p> + +<p>"What face do the bourgeois make?"</p> + +<p>"They are in consternation; all the shops are closed; the +streets are deserted."</p> + +<p>"And the masses?... the artisans.... Are they +heard to murmur?"</p> + +<p>"Sire, after yesterday's massacre, there are none more of the +poorer class to be seen ... neither on the streets nor the +squares.... The people are scarce."</p> + +<p>"But some must still be left."</p> + +<p>"Those that are left are in consternation and stupor like the +bourgeois."</p> + +<p>"All the same, let my Navarrians keep sharp watch at the gates +of the town, on the ramparts and on the streets. Let them kill +on the spot any bourgeois, peasant or artisan who dares this +morning to put his nose outside of his house."</p> + +<p>"The order has been given, Sire. It will be carried out."</p> + +<p>"And the chiefs of those accursed Jacques?"</p> + +<p>"They remain impassive, Sire!"<a name="page_212" id="page_212"></a></p> + +<p>"Blood of Christ! They will become livelier, and that soon.... +Has a trevet been procured. Let the executioner hold +himself ready."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Sire. Everything is prepared according to your orders."</p> + +<p>"Let everything be ready at the stroke of seven."</p> + +<p>"All shall be ready, Sire."</p> + +<p>Charles the Wicked reflected a moment, and then resumed, +taking up an enameled medallion with his monogram that lay +near him on the table: "Did the man arrive who was arrested +at the gates last night, and who sent me this medallion?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Sire. He has just been brought in unarmed and pinioned, +as you ordered. He is kept under watch in the lower hall. +What is your pleasure?"</p> + +<p>"Let him be brought up."</p> + +<p>The equerry stepped out. Charles the Wicked rose, and approached +the window that opened upon the square where the +scaffold was erected. After throwing it partly open so as to be +able to look out, he reclosed it and returned to his seat near the +table, his lips contracted with a sinister smile. He had barely +sat down again when the equerry returned preceding the archers +in the middle of whom walked Jocelyn the Champion with his +hands bound behind his back and his face inflamed with anger. +The prince made a sign to the equerry, who thereupon withdrew +with the Navarrians, leaving Charles the Wicked and Jocelyn +alone, the latter, however, still pinioned.</p> + +<p>"Sire, I am the victim either of a mistake or of unworthy +treason!" cried Jocelyn. "For the sake of your honor, I hope +it is a mistake.... Order me to be unbound."</p> + +<p>"There is no mistake in the case."</p> + +<p>"Then it is treason! To disarm me! To pinion me!... +Me, the carrier of the medallion that I sent to you together with +a letter that I brought to you from Master Marcel! That is +treason, Sire! Disgraceful felony!"</p> + +<p>"There is in all this neither mistake nor felony. A truce +with your imprudent words!"<a name="page_213" id="page_213"></a></p> + +<p>"What else is it?"</p> + +<p>"A simple measure of prudence," coolly answered Charles the +Wicked; "you signed the letter 'Jocelyn the Champion'.... +Is that your name and profession?'</p> + +<p>"Yes, Sire; I am a defender of the oppressed."</p> + +<p>"Did Marcel send you to me?"</p> + +<p>"I told you so, and proved it by forwarding the medallion. +What do you want of me? Ask; I shall answer."</p> + +<p>"What is the purpose of your message?"</p> + +<p>"You shall know it when you will have set me free of my +bonds."</p> + +<p>"The bonds do not tie your tongue ... seems to me! +You can answer very well as you are."</p> + +<p>"You ignore my character of ambassador! I have come in +that capacity."</p> + +<p>"That's subtle ... but be careful; the minutes are precious; +your message is certainly important.... Its success +may be endangered by a prolonged silence."</p> + +<p>"Sire, I came to you, if not as a friend, still as an ally. You +treat me like an enemy. Master Marcel will be thankful for my +reserve——"</p> + +<p>"Very well," said Charles the Wicked, ringing a bell. The +call was forthwith answered by the equerry. "Let this man be +taken outside of the town, and the gates closed after him. Do +not allow him in again."</p> + +<p>After a brief struggle with himself, Jocelyn resumed: "However +outrageous be the reception you give an envoy of Marcel, I +shall speak and fulfill my mission."</p> + +<p>At another sign from the King of Navarre, the equerry stepped +out again and the former said to Jocelyn: "What is your message?"</p> + +<p>"Master Marcel charged me to say to you, Sire, that it was +time to open the campaign; the Regent's army is marching upon +Paris; all the vassals are up in arms; numerous troops of +Jacques must be approaching Clermont to join you. Indeed, I<a name="page_214" id="page_214"></a> +am astonished at not having met any Jacques."</p> + +<p>"By what gate did you enter Clermont? From what side did +you cross the walls?"</p> + +<p>"By the gate of the Paris road. It was dark when I arrived +and sent you one of the archers who arrested me."</p> + +<p>"You spoke with no soldier?"</p> + +<p>"I was locked up alone in one of the turrets of the rampart. +I could speak with nobody. I communicated only with +your archers."</p> + +<p>"Proceed ... with your message."</p> + +<p>"Marcel wishes to know what your plan of campaign will be +when your troops have been reinforced by eight or ten thousand +Jacques, who, according to our information, may any time arrive +in Clermont."</p> + +<p>"We shall speak about that presently.... First tell me +what the public sentiment is in Paris. Are more rebellions +feared?"</p> + +<p>"The adversaries of Marcel and partisans of the Regent are +very active. They seek to mislead the population by imputing +to the revolt all the ills that the city suffers from. Royal troops +seized Etamps and Corbeil to prevent the arrival of grains in +Paris and starve out the city. Marcel took the field with the +bourgeois militia, and after a murderous conflict he threw the +royalists back and secured the subsistence of Paris. But the +provost's adversaries are redoubling their underhand manoeuvres +with a view to bring a portion of the bourgeoisie back to the +Regent. The people, more accustomed to privations, are easily +resigned; full of hope in the future that is to bring them deliverance, +they weaken neither in energy nor in devotion to Marcel, +especially since the tidings of the revolts of the Jacques reached +Paris. The vassals of the whole valley of Montmorency are now +in revolt ..."; but suddenly breaking off, Jocelyn said: +"Sire, order these bonds to be removed from my hands; they +are a disgrace to me and to you.... You treat me like a +prisoner!"<a name="page_215" id="page_215"></a></p> + +<p>"You were saying that the Regent's partisans are active? Is +not Maillart among the leaders in that movement?"</p> + +<p>"No ... at least not openly. The avowed leaders of the +court party are all nobles; among them is the knight of Charny +and the knight James of Pontoise. Prompt and resolute action +is necessary. Your chances of reigning over Gaul are excellent +if you come to the help of the Parisians, take the field against +the forces of the Regent, and utilize, as Master Marcel suggests, +the powerful aid offered by the Jacquerie. Next to the clergy +and the seigneurs, there are no more implacable enemies of the +peasants than the English. Marcel's purpose in encouraging +the insurrections of the Jacques and organizing their bands is +above all to hurl them in mass against the English in the name +of the country that the invaders are ravaging with their predatory +bands, and to drive them from our soil. Triumph is assured +if the present enthusiasm of the Jacques is utilized by +turning it into that sacred channel towards the safety and deliverance +of the country. That is the reason, Sire, why Master +Marcel has been seeking to effect the junction of the Jacques +with the forces that you command."</p> + +<p>"Our friend Marcel," Charles the Wicked observed caustically, +"made an excellent choice of allies for me in the revolted peasants!" +saying which he rang the bell. The equerry entered and +left after the prince had whispered a few words in his ear.</p> + +<p>"Sire," again remonstrated Jocelyn, "your manners are mysterious. +Are you hatching some other plot against me? You +may be frank; I am in your power."</p> + +<p>"There is no plot hatching," coolly answered Charles the +Wicked, shrugging his shoulders. "I am merely taking precautions +to insure the quiet and calmness of our interview as +becomes people like ourselves."</p> + +<p>"Sire, have I perchance failed in calmness and quiet? My +language is self-possessed."</p> + +<p><a name="page_216" id="page_216"></a>"So far ... you are right ... but presently your +moderation may be put to a severe test ... my precautions +are wise——"</p> + +<p>The entrance of two other robust equerries in the company +of the prince's confidante interrupted his last words, and without +Jocelyn, whose hands were tied, being able to offer any effective +resistance, he was thrown on the floor, where, however, +despite his being pinioned, he resented the treatment with Herculean +though vain efforts to disengage himself from his assailants.</p> + +<p>"By God! You are a Hercules ... what athletic vigor +you display! Am I wrong if I take precautions against the +consequences of our further interview, despite your assurances +of calmness and moderation?"</p> + +<p>Not without much difficulty the three equerries finally succeeded +in binding Jocelyn's legs as firmly as his arms. When +that was done, Charles the Wicked said: "Place the envoy on +the settee near the window. He may sit up or lie down, as he +chooses.... You may now go."</p> + +<p>Again alone with Jocelyn, who was writhing in impotent rage, +the prince pursued: "Our interview can now proceed peacefully."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Charles the Wicked, every day you strive to justify your +name!" cried Jocelyn. "My suspicions did not deceive me. You +have some infamous act of treason to inform me of!"</p> + +<p>Nonchalantly shrugging his shoulders, the prince answered: +"Vassal, if I did you the honor of fearing you I would have had +you hanged before this.... If I was betraying Marcel I +would be at Compiegne beside the Regent.... You are +not hanged, and I am not at Compiegne! Let us now tranquilly +resume the conversation that was interrupted when you were +speaking about the Jacques.... Well, now, the Jacques +did come in bands.... The worthy allies of your friend +Marcel came——"</p> + +<p>"Here to Clermont?"<a name="page_217" id="page_217"></a></p> + +<p>"They came here ... to Clermont, in the number of +eight or ten thousand."</p> + +<p>"Where are they?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! Oh!... Where are they?" Charles the Wicked +answered back with a Satanic leer. "Where are they?... +That is an embarrassing question, that is!... Since man +is man it has been the despair of those who seek to fathom the +secret of where we go ... when we leave this world.... +They are where we all shall go!"</p> + +<p>"What is that? The Jacques?——"</p> + +<p>"They are where we all shall go.... Do you not understand +me?"</p> + +<p>"Dead!?" cried Jocelyn, stupefied with terror. "Dead! Massacred! +My God!"</p> + +<p>"Come, keep cool.... Listen to the details of the adventure +... you are to transmit it to your friends."</p> + +<p>"This man frightens me!" thought Jocelyn, a cold perspiration +bathing his forehead. "Is it some trap he is laying for me?"</p> + +<p>"The Jacques came," resumed Charles the Wicked, "those +wild beasts that pillage and burn down castles, massacre priests +and seigneurs, outrage women, and pitilessly cut the throats of +children, to the end, as these devils put it, of annihilating the +nobility!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, God!" cried Jocelyn, sitting up, "the reprisals of Jacques +Bonhomme lasted one day ... his martyrdom centuries!——"</p> + +<p>"Vassal!" the King of Navarre haughtily interrupted Jocelyn, +"the rights of the conqueror over the conquered, of the seigneur +over the serf, are absolute and from heaven!... A villein +or peasant in revolt deserves death. It is the feudal law."</p> + +<p>The champion shivered, and looking fixedly at the King of +Navarre said: "Charles the Wicked, you will not let me leave +this place alive; you would be a lost man if I carried your words +to Marcel!"</p> + +<p>"You will leave this place alive," coldly answered the prince,<a name="page_218" id="page_218"></a> +"and besides my words, you will report the facts to Marcel."</p> + +<p>A prey to irrepressible agony, Jocelyn fell back upon the +settee and Charles the Wicked proceeded:</p> + +<p>"You will first of all tell Marcel that, however wily he may +be, I have not been his dupe. The chiefs of the Jacques whom +he sent to me as auxiliaries were expected to become my watchers, +and, if need be, my butchers ... if I deviated from +the path marked out by that insolent bourgeois. I was in his +hands, said he to me, but an 'instrument that he would break +if need be'.... Very well! I have broken one of Marcel's +redoubtable instruments.... I have annihilated the Jacquerie +... and at this very moment my friends, Gaston +Phoebus, the Count of Foix and the Captal of Buch are crushing +in Meaux the last coils of that serpent of revolt that sought +to rise against the nobility——"</p> + +<p>"The Jacquerie crushed! annihilated!" exclaimed Jocelyn, +more and more beside himself. But returning to his first suspicion, +he gathered voice to say: "Charles the Wicked, you are +the most cunning man on earth ... you are laying some +trap for me.... If the Jacques came to Clermont to the +number of eight or ten thousand, you were not in command of +sufficient forces to exterminate them."</p> + +<p>"Sir envoy, you are too hasty in your conclusions. Listen first, +you will then be able to judge. I promised facts to you. Here +they are. Yesterday, towards noon, I was apprised of the approach +of the Jacques. The bourgeoisie of Clermont and the +corporation of artisans, infected with the old communal leaven, +went out to meet the malefactors and to feast them. I encouraged +their plans, and while the Jacques halted in the valley +near Clermont, three of their chiefs presented themselves at the +drawbridge demanding to entertain me."</p> + +<p>"What were their names?"</p> + +<p>"William Caillet ... Adam the Devil ... and +Mazurec the Lambkin.... I ordered the three Jacques +chiefs to be brought to me; I received them with great courtesy;<a name="page_219" id="page_219"></a> +I touched their hands, called them my comrades and gave them +fraternal embraces. We agreed that, obedient to Marcel's wishes, +they should be my auxiliaries, and that we would speedily start +on the march to Paris. In the meantime their men were to remain +encamped in the valley. After issuing their orders to this +effect, the three chiefs conferred with me upon the plan of campaign. +So said, so done. The three chiefs returned to their encampment +to order matters and came back to me. My first act +then was to throw all three into prison. I knew that, deprived +of their chiefs, the execrable bandits were half overcome. I then +sent one of my officers, the Sire of Bigorre, to inform the Jacques +that at the conference I had with their chiefs, they desired that +their men should immediately begin to exercise themselves with +my archers and cavalrymen, in order to accustom themselves to +military manoeuvres. The Jacques tumbled into the trap, gladly +accepted the proposition, and were formed into battalions."</p> + +<p>Noticing the indignation and rage of Jocelyn, that betrayed +themselves through his involuntary twitchings in his bonds, +Charles the Wicked interrupted his narrative for a moment in +order to interject the remark: "I congratulate myself more and +more upon having had you bound fast. Waste not your fury. +It will soon have stronger matter upon which to expend itself.... +I now proceed.... The bourgeois and artisan +guilds of Clermont had tapped a large number of barrels to +feast their friends the Jacques with. Their hilarity was soon +complete. With loud cries the Jacques called for their first exercise +in military marching. The Sire of Bigorre, an able captain, +commanded the manoeuvre. He did it in such a way that, +after a few marches and countermarches, the Jacques found +themselves huddled and crowded together like a herd of cattle +at the bottom of the valley, an easy mark to my archers stationed +on the surrounding eminences, while my cavalry occupied the +only two issues from which the fleers could escape out of the +deep hollow."<a name="page_220" id="page_220"></a></p> + +<p>"You princes are experts at massacres!" cried Jocelyn, in bitter +despair.</p> + +<p>"It was a regular slaughter of wolves," answered Charles the +Wicked. "The Jacques, like stupid and ferocious brutes, and +full of vain-glory at parading before the bourgeois of Clermont, +put out their chests, and carried their staves, forks and scythes +with as much pride as if they carried the noble arms of knighthood; +they even applauded the excellent order of my men-at-arms +who held the crests round about the hollow in which they +were penned up. Suddenly the clarions gave a signal. The +music greatly delighted the revolted varlets. But their delight +is soon ended. At the clarion's first notes my archers bent their +bows and a hail storm of murderous bolts, shot by my soldiers +from above into the compact mass of Jacques in the hollow, +decimated the bandits. A panic took possession of the savage +herd; the brutes sought to flee by the two issues in the valley; +but there they found themselves face to face with my five hundred +cavalrymen, cased in iron, who, with lances, swords and +iron maces furiously charged upon the canaille, while my archers +continued riddling with their bolts both the flanks of the band +and those who sought to climb up the hill.... It was a +superb slaughter.... The ground was heaped with the +dead!"</p> + +<p>Jocelyn uttered a hollow groan. Charles the Wicked smiled +satisfied and proceeded:</p> + +<p>"Nothing more cowardly can be conceived than those varlets +after their first exaltation. Such was their fright, as told me by +the Sire of Bigorre, that they allowed themselves to be killed +like sheep; they fell upon their knees, bared their throats to the +swords, their breasts to the arrows and their heads to the iron +maces. In short, all those whom iron did not pierce were smothered +under the corpses. A large number of bourgeois and town +plebs, spectators of the slaughter, and also crowded down in the +valley, shared the fate of their comrade Jacques Bonhomme. +Thus with one blow I relieved myself of the peasants and of the<a name="page_221" id="page_221"></a> +town plebs together with a considerable number of communal +bourgeois. I now hold their town in my power, and keep it. +That is their affair with me. And, now, Sir ambassador, tell +Marcel in my name no more to mix up the Jacques in our operations. +There are now few of these ferocious beasts left; moreover, +they are evil companions. You shall presently be freed +of your bonds and your horse shall be returned to you. Should +you doubt my words and wish to make sure of the facts before +returning to Paris, go out by the side of the valley, look around, +and, above all, close your nose ... the carcasses of those +accursed Jacques are beginning to emit rank odors."</p> + +<p>Forgetting in his rage that he was pinioned, Jocelyn turned to +rush upon Charles the Wicked. The prince, however, proceeded +smiling as before:</p> + +<p>"Ungrateful fellow.... You would strangle me.... +Yet you ignore how generous I have been.... I have saved +the lives of the three chiefs of that band of raving wolves.... +Do you doubt it?" he inquired, answering a painful sigh that +escaped from the breast of Jocelyn, whose thoughts ran upon +his brother; "you question my clemency and generosity!"</p> + +<p>"Could it be true?" cried Jocelyn, yielding to a vague hope; +"did my brother Mazurec really escape?"</p> + +<p>"If you talk calmly instead of bellowing like a staked steer, I +shall give you my word as a knight that you will see your +brother."</p> + +<p>"Mazurec lives.... I shall see him!"</p> + +<p>"He lives.... You will see him ... upon the +word of a knight. But let us talk sensibly. We must now consider +the means by which Marcel and I can co-operate in the accomplishment +of our common projects."</p> + +<p>"Marcel will not co-operate with the butcher of so many innocent +victims!" cried Jocelyn. "Marcel will not ally himself +with you, who just told me that all rebellious vassals deserve +death!... The fatal alliance he entered into with you, +compelled thereto by stress of circumstances, is now forever sundered.<a name="page_222" id="page_222"></a> +It has been a terrible lesson. It will enlighten the people +who seek the support of princes in the struggle against their +oppressors."</p> + +<p>"You slander Marcel's good judgment, whose political sagacity +none appreciates more than I. That clothier is a master-man. +Do you know what he will answer you when, back to Paris, you +will have reported to him the carnage of the Jacquerie?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, indeed I do!"</p> + +<p>"He will say this: 'The bourgeoisie and the Jacquerie were +my army; I expected to discipline it and to be able to say to +the King of Navarre: "My army is superior to yours; accept +my conditions; let us jointly march against the Regent; I promise +you his crown if you consent to submit to the national assembly +as the supreme power. If you prefer allying yourself +with the Regent, do so. The bourgeoisie holds the towns, the +Jacquerie the country. I do not fear you." But here is the Jacquerie, +the bulk of my army, annihilated.' Marcel will thoughtfully +add: 'The disaster is irreparable. I now have but one of +two courses open: either submission to the Regent, and deliver +up to him my head and the heads of my friends, or promote the +projects of the King of Navarre, who has an army capable of +coping with the royal forces. Accordingly, instead of dictating +terms to the King of Navarre, I am compelled to accept his +terms.' That is what Marcel will say."</p> + +<p>"Marcel will never betray the cause to which he has devoted +his life."</p> + +<p>"So far from betraying the cause of the people, he will insure +the execution of a part of his programme. Do you take me for +fool enough to ignore that, inevitably—Marcel said so to me, and +he spoke truly—inevitably, if I mount the throne, I am compelled +to carry out the larger part of the reforms that that redresser +of wrongs has been pushing so many years? Would not +the bourgeois sooner or later rebel against me as they have done +against the Regent if I did not grant them greater freedom? +Marcel furthermore said to me with his usual good sense: 'You,<a name="page_223" id="page_223"></a> +Sire, who covet the crown, will see in every reform measure only +a means to confirm you upon the throne; the Regent, on the contrary, +considers every measure of reform as a curtailment of his +hereditary sovereign rights.'"</p> + +<p>"Charles the Wicked, if such are your plans, if each of your +words is not a lie or does not hide some trap, why did you massacre +the Jacques? Why did you crush that popular uprising? +Was it not bound to insure the freedom of Gaul and chase away +the English?"</p> + +<p>"Do you take me for a simpleton? What would there be left +for me to reign over if Gaul were entirely free? What would +become of the nobility? No, no! Whether I like it or not, I shall +be compelled to grant a large number of reforms that may satisfy +the bourgeoisie; I would not resign myself to the rôle of a passive +instrument of the national assembly, as Marcel proposes, but +I shall want to rule jointly with the assembly; and I would put +forth all my efforts to end the English war. But as to raising +Jacques Bonhomme from his condition—not at all! If I tried +it I would turn every seigneur into an enemy. Jacques Bonhomme +shall remain Jacques Bonhomme. Who would be left to +fill the royal treasury if I enfranchised Jacques Bonhomme? +Who would there be left to be taxed at will? The enfranchisement +of Jacques Bonhomme would be the end of both nobility +and royalty!... Those pests of bourgeois franchises, that +issued from the execrable communes, are themselves enough of a +menace to the throne.... This being all understood, you +will say to Marcel that as early as to-morrow I shall begin collecting +the several divisions of my army, and that I shall march +upon Paris, whose gates shall be open to me.... Finally, +in order to settle this and some other matters, you will tell him +to meet me at Saint-Ouen, where I shall be in the evening of +the day after to-morrow."</p> + +<p>The merciless logic of Charles the Wicked only redoubled the +horror that he inspired Jocelyn with, and the latter was about +to give vent to it when the hour of seven was struck from afar<a name="page_224" id="page_224"></a> +by the parochial church of Clermont. With his usual smile the +prince observed:</p> + +<p>"I promised you that you would see your brother.... +You are about to see him. And I want to let you know how I +discovered your relationship. I ordered a fellow who is all ears +to be concealed in a secret closet of the prison of the three chiefs +of the Jacquerie. He was instructed to spy upon the scamps. +In that way he heard one of them say to his accomplices, that he +regretted he could not see his brother Jocelyn the Champion and +friend of Marcel once more. When I this morning received the +letter signed 'Jocelyn,' announcing yourself as the envoy of the +provost, I easily discovered your relationship with the Jacques."</p> + +<p>"Where is my brother? Where is that poor Mazurec? Have +me carried before him."</p> + +<p>"You will see him! Did I not pledge you my word as a +knight?... But do not forget to notify Marcel that I +expect to see him at Saint-Ouen day after to-morrow evening. +And may the devil take you!"</p> + +<p>The King of Navarre left the room. A few minutes after his +departure the door was again opened and Jocelyn joyfully turned +expecting to see his brother enter. He hoped in vain. It was one +of the equerries.</p> + +<p>"Your master assured me that I would see my brother, Mazurec," +said Jocelyn, an unaccountable feeling of anxiety creeping +over him.</p> + +<p>The equerry opened the window near which the champion had +been deposited and pointing to it said: "Look out of this window. +Our Sire is faithful to his promise," and he withdrew, +locking the door after him.</p> + +<p>Seized with a terrible presentiment, Jocelyn leaned towards +the window as far as his bound limbs allowed him, and the following +ghastly scene was enacted before his eyes:</p> + +<p>Below the window, about thirty feet down, is a vast square +surrounded with houses and into which two streets run out, both +of which are barred with strong cordons of soldiers charged to<a name="page_225" id="page_225"></a> +keep the inhabitants of the town from entering the square. At +one end of the square and not far from Jocelyn's window rises +a wide scaffold. In the middle of the scaffold stands a stake +with a stool attached, at either side of which is a block on which +a sharp-pointed pile is firmly fastened. Several executioners +are busy on the scaffold. Some are attaching iron chains to the +center stake; others are standing around a cooking-stove turning +on the burning coals, with the help of tongs, one of those iron +trevets or tripods used by the peasants to cook their porridge in +the fire-place. The trevet begins to be red hot; some of the +executioners engaged near the stove kneel down and blow upon +the fire to keep up the flames.</p> + +<p>Presently, trumpets are heard approaching from the direction +of one of the two streets; the cordon of soldiers posted at the +mouth of that street part and allow a passage to a first squad of +archers. Between this and the second squad, William Caillet, +Adam the Devil and Mazurec the Lambkin are seen marching +with firm tread. Mazurec is only half clad in an old hose of +goat-skin; the two other peasants wear the ancient Gallic +"blaude" or blouse, wooden shoes and woolen cap. It was not +thought necessary to pinion them. Adam and Mazurec have each +an arm on the shoulder of William Caillet, who is placed between +the two. Thus joined in one embrace, the three men march +with heads erect, intrepid looks and resolute carriage towards +the scaffold erected for their last martyrdom.</p> + +<p>The archers who compose the rear-guard of the escort spread +themselves over the place, with their bows ready and their eyes +searching the windows of the surrounding houses. One of the +lattices clicks open, and instantly two arrows fly and disappear +through the aperture, followed by an agonizing cry within. The +two archers immediately re-fit their bows. They are executing +the orders they received from their chiefs. The town people occupying +the houses around the square had been forbidden to appear +at their windows during the execution of the three chiefs +of the Jacquerie. The three are now at the foot of the scaffold.<a name="page_226" id="page_226"></a></p> + +<p>Gasping for breath, his face moist with cold perspiration, horrified +and desperate at the sight of such a spectacle, Jocelyn feels +his head swimming. He seems oppressed by a horrible nightmare. +He distinguishes the faces; he hears the voice of Mazurec, +of Adam, of Caillet exchanging a supreme adieu on the scaffold, +while the executioners around them are making ready. William +Caillet takes the hands of Adam and Mazurec and cries out in +a strong voice that reaches the champion's ears:</p> + +<p>"Firm, my Jacques! Firm to the end! Adam, your wife is +revenged!... Mazurec, our Aveline is revenged!... +Our relatives and friends, smothered to death in the cavern of +the forest of Nointel are avenged.... The executioners are +about to torture and put us to death. What does it matter? +Our death will not return life to the noble dames and seigneurs +who fell under our blows in the midst of their happiness. They +sorrowed to leave life ... not so with us, with us whose +lives are brimful of sorrows and tears!... The Jacquerie +has revenged us!... Some day others will finish what we +began!... Firm, my Jacques! Firm to the end!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Jacques Bonhomme, for so many centuries a martyr!" +responded Adam and Mazurec in savage enthusiasm. "The Jacquerie +has revenged you!... Others will finish what we +began!... Firm, my Jacques!... Firm to the +end!"</p> + +<p>The executioners, engaged in their last dispositions, feel no +concern at what the three peasants may say. Their words can +find no echo upon that deserted place. As soon as the iron trevet +is at white heat, one of the tormentors cried: +"Ready! We are +ready for the job!"</p> + +<p>The archers chain +the three Jacques fast to the platform of +the scaffold and deliver them to the executioners. These seize +William Caillet and bind him down upon the seat attached to the +stake in the center of the two blocks with sharp-pointed piles. +Mazurec and Adam are stripped of their clothes except their +hose, their hands are tied behind their backs and they are led<a name="page_227" id="page_227"></a> +to the two blocks. One of the executioners pulls off the woolen +cap that covers the grey-headed William Caillet, while another +seizes with a pair of tongs the little trevet, turns it upside down +with its feet in the air, and placing the white-hot iron on the +skull of the aged peasant cries out: "I crown thee King of the +Jacques!"</p> + +<p>Caillet bellows with the insufferable pain; his hair takes fire, +the skin of his forehead shrivels, runs blood and rips open under +the pressure of the incandescent iron. The axes of two other executioners +rise over Mazurec and Adam, who are now on their +knees each before one of the blocks.</p> + +<p>"Brother!" cries Jocelyn the Champion, overcoming the nightmare +pressure on his chest that suffocated and extinguished his +voice; "Brother!"</p> + +<p>At the heart-rending cry, Mazurec quickly raises and turns +his head towards the window from which the cry proceeded. But +that very instant the glint of the descending axe of the executioner +flashes in Jocelyn's eyes; his brother's body sinks upon and +his head rolls over the scaffold, reddening it with its blood. The +champion is seized with a vertigo; his heart fails him; and he +falls unconscious upon the floor.</p> + +<p>When Jocelyn recovered consciousness he found himself unbound +and stretched upon a pallet of straw in a lower hall. An +archer mounted guard over him near a lamp. It was night. +Gathering his thoughts as if he had awakened from some troubled +dream, the champion soon recalled the horrible reality. The +archer informed him that he was found unconscious by the +equerries of the prince in the hall of the tower, had been transported +to that place, and, after a fit of delirium, had fallen into +profound torpor. The archer also informed him that his horse +and arms were to be returned to him, and that he could leave +Clermont whenever he wished. Jocelyn requested the archer to +take him to one of the officers of the King of Navarre, hoping to +obtain permission to render a pious homage to Mazurec. The +prince granted the request, and Jocelyn, leaving the castle, proceeded<a name="page_228" id="page_228"></a> +to the place of the execution. By the light of the moon he +mounted the scaffold which was guarded by soldiers. The corpses +of the three Jacques were to remain exposed during the whole +of the next day. After his torture, William Caillet had been +beheaded like his two companions. His head and theirs were +stuck to the points of the piles that surmounted the blocks. Jocelyn +religiously kissed the icy forehead of his brother Mazurec, +and turning to descend the scaffold, his foot struck against the +iron trevet which had fallen down after the decapitation of William +Caillet.</p> + +<p>"This instrument of torture and witness of my brother's martyrdom +shall join the relics of our family," said Jocelyn the +Champion to himself, picking up and concealing the trevet under +his cloak. He then hastened to his horse that was held ready at +the gate of Clermont and left the town, hastening to rejoin +Etienne Marcel in Paris.</p> + +<h2><a name="PART_IV" id="PART_IV"></a>PART IV<br /><br /> +JOHN MAILLART</h2> + +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_I-d" id="CHAPTER_I-d"></a>CHAPTER I.<br /><br /> +THE WAYS OF ENVY.</h3> + +<p>About a month had elapsed since the death of William +Caillet, Adam the Devil and Mazurec the Lambkin.</p> + +<p>Denise, the niece of Etienne Marcel and betrothed to +Jocelyn the Champion, has retired to a large apartment +over the cloth shop of the provost and is busy +sewing by a lamp. Uneasiness is depicted on the sweet +face of the young maid. From time to time she stays +her needle and listens towards the window through +which the confused talk and hurrying steps of large +numbers of people on the street penetrate into the +room. Gradually the noise on the street subsided +and silence reigned again. These evidences of the +excitement that agitated Paris greatly alarmed Denise.</p> + +<p>"My God!" she exclaimed. "The tumult augments. My +aunt Marguerite has not yet returned. Where can she +have gone to? Why did she borrow the cloak of Agnes +our servant? Why the disguise? Why did she conceal +her head under a cowl? Can she have gone to the town-hall, +where my uncle and Jocelyn have been since morning?" +At the thought of the champion, Denise blushed, +sighed and proceeded: "Oh, should there be any danger,<a name="page_229" id="page_229"></a> +Jocelyn will watch over my uncle Marcel as he would have +done over his own father.... But the prolonged absence +of my aunt causes me mortal anxiety.... May God guard +her...."</p> + +<p>Agnes the Bigot, the old domestic of the house, entered the +room precipitately, and said to Denise whom she had known since +her birth: "For the last hour I have noticed three men of sinister +looks on our street. They never stray far from our door. +I watched them through the lattices. Off and on they consult +in a low voice and then separate again. One of them has now +planted himself on the left, the second to the right of the door, +and the third opposite.... They must have been sent to +spy upon the people who enter and leave the house."</p> + +<p>"Such spyings seem to me ominous; I shall notify my aunt as +soon as she returns."</p> + +<p>"I think this is she," answered the servant. "I heard the shop +door open and close; that must be madam."</p> + +<p>Indeed Marguerite Marcel soon entered the room. She threw +far from her a cowled cloak that she had on, and said to Agnes: +"Leave us."</p> + +<p>The provost's wife threw herself into a chair; she was exhausted +with fatigue and emotion. Her dejection, the pallor of +her visage and the visible palpitation of her bosom redoubled the +fears of Denise who was about to interrogate her aunt, when the +latter, making an effort over herself suppressed her agitation +and said to Denise collectively:</p> + +<p>"Courage, my child; courage!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, heaven!... Aunt ... have we any new misfortune +to deplore? What has happened now?"</p> + +<p>"No ... not at present; but to-morrow; perhaps this +very evening." Marguerite stopped short for a moment, and +then proceeded with still greater calmness and decision: "I paid +a tribute to weakness; I now feel strong again; I am now prepared +for the worst.... I shall at least know by resignation +how to rise to the height of the man whose name I bear! Oh,<a name="page_230" id="page_230"></a> +never was an honorable man more unworthily misunderstood, or +attacked in more cowardly fashion!"</p> + +<p>"Then Master Marcel is exposed to new perils?"</p> + +<p>"My presentiments did not deceive me. What I have just +learned by myself confirms them. A plot is hatching against +Marcel and his partisans. Perhaps his own life and the lives of +his friends are at stake. Let the worst come! At the hour of +danger Marcel will do his duty and I mine.... I shall +stand by my husband unto death."</p> + +<p>Marguerite pronounced these last words in an accent of such +mournful determination that a cry of astonishment and fright +escaped from Denise.</p> + +<p>"My resolution astonishes you, poor child!" resumed Marcel's +wife. "To-day you see me full of courage! And yet last year +... even as late as yesterday ... I admitted to you +my agony and the fears that every day beset me at the mere +thought of the dangers that my husband ran. I then minded +only his fatigue, I then only objected to the overwhelming labors +that barely left him two hours of rest a night, I then looked back +regretfully to the days when, a stranger to political affairs, he +busied himself only with the affairs of our own cloth business. +Our then obscurity at least saved us the sad spectacle of the +hatreds and the envy that have since been unchained against Marcel's +glory and popularity."</p> + +<p>"Oh, aunt, you speak truly! Do you remember that wicked +and envious Petronille Maillart? Thank God she never came +back since the day of the funeral of Perrin Macé! We have been +spared her presence!"</p> + +<p>"I now have no doubt that her husband is one of the leaders +in the plot that is hatching against Marcel."</p> + +<p>"Master Maillart!... Uncle's childhood friend! He +who only the other day was so loudly protesting his affection for +him!"</p> + +<p>"Maillart is a weak man; he yields to his wife's influence over +him, and she is consumed with envy. She envied in me the wife<a name="page_231" id="page_231"></a> +of the man whom the idolizing people called the King of Paris. +In those days I would have sacrificed Marcel's glory to his repose +... his genius to his safety! The slightest popular +commotion made me fear for him.... I was then weak and +cowardly.... But to-day, when he is pursued by hatred, +ingratitude and iniquity, I feel strong, brave and withal proud +of being the wife of that great citizen. I feel capable of proving +to him my devotion unto death."</p> + +<p>"Oh, may heaven prevent that your devotion be put to so terrible +a test! But how did you learn about the plot?"</p> + +<p>"I determined this evening to put an end to my suspense, and +to ascertain the actual facts regarding the popular sentiment +towards Marcel. I wrapped myself in that mantle to prevent +being discovered, and moved among numerous groups that gathered +in our quarter."</p> + +<p>"I now understand it all. And you learned directly...."</p> + +<p>"Things that cause me to foresee an imminent and fearful +crisis. The life of Marcel is in great danger."</p> + +<p>"Good God! May you not be mistaken?"</p> + +<p>"No! The privations, the sufferings and the ills that follow +in the wake of the painful conquest of freedom are laid to Marcel's +door. My husband is at once attacked by the emissaries of +the court party and by those of the party of Maillart. These +emissaries circulate among the poor people, who, credulous of +evil as well as of good, are fickle in their affections, and whimsical +in their hatred. It is harped upon to them that all the +evils of these days would have been avoided if Councilman Maillart, +'the true friend of the people,' had been listened to; others +preach prompt submission to the Regent as the only means to a +speedy end of our public disasters. 'What does the Regent, +after all, demand,' ask his backers, 'What does he exact in return +for his pardon? Only eight hundred thousand gold pieces +for the ransom of King John and the heads of the leaders of the +revolt and of its principal partisans! Would it be paying too<a name="page_232" id="page_232"></a> +dearly with a little shame, a little gold and a little blood for the +peace of the city?'"</p> + +<p>"Great God!" cried Denise, pale and trembling, "who are the +leaders of the revolt whose heads the Regent demands?"</p> + +<p>"They are Marcel ... my son ... our best friends +... all honorable people, devoted to the public weal, adversaries +of oppression and iniquity ... uncompromising enemies +of the English, who are ravaging our unhappy land, and +who would have put Paris to fire and sword were not Paris protected +by the fortifications that it owes to Marcel's foresight and +zeal! The people to-day seem to have forgotten the services that +my husband has rendered the city; they seem to have forgotten +that they owe to Marcel the reforms that have been imposed upon +the Regent and which guarantee them against rapine and violence +from the side of the court."</p> + +<p>"Can it be possible that the people are guilty of such ingratitude +against Master Marcel?"</p> + +<p>"My husband's soul is too large, his spirit too just to have +been swayed in his public acts by expectations of gratitude. How +often has he not said to me: 'Let us do what is right and just, +such acts are their own reward.' Marcel is prepared for any +emergency. Nevertheless, thinking that my observations might +be of benefit to him, I stepped into the house of our friend Simon +the Feather-dealer who lives not far from the town-hall, and I +wrote to my husband what I had seen and heard. My letter was +carried to him by a trusty man——" but observing that the tears +that Denise had long been suppressing now inundated her face, +Marguerite interrupted her report, inquiring tenderly: "Why do +you weep, dear Denise?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, aunt! I have neither your strength nor your courage.... +The thought of the dangers that threaten Master Marcel +... and our friends ... overwhelm me with fear!"</p> + +<p>"Poor child! You are thinking of Jocelyn, your lover? He +is a true friend of ours."<a name="page_233" id="page_233"></a></p> + +<p>"Should there be a riot or a fight, he will rush into the thickest +... to save Marcel."</p> + +<p>"I regret, for the sake of your happiness, dear child, that I +ever called you to Paris. Had you not come, you would now +be living peacefully at Vaucouleurs, away from this center of +trouble and strife."</p> + +<p>At this instant Agnes the Bigot re-entered, preceding a person +whom she announced, saying: "Dame Maillart has come, +she assures me, in order to render you a great service. She wishes +to speak to you without delay."</p> + +<p>"I do not wish to see her!" cried Marguerite, impatiently. "I +detest the sight of that woman. I refuse to receive her!"</p> + +<p>"Madam, she says she came to render you a great service," +answered the servant, sorry for having involuntarily crossed her +mistress' wishes. "I thought I was doing right to allow her to +come up; it is now unfortunately too late——"</p> + +<p>Indeed, Petronille Maillart appeared at that moment at the +door of the room. Triumphant and barely controlled hatred betrayed +itself in the looks that the councilman's wife cast upon +Marguerite. But assuming a mild and kind voice she approached +the object of her envy.</p> + +<p>"Good evening, Dame Marcel; good evening, poor Dame Marcel."</p> + +<p>"This affectation of sympathy conceals some odious perfidy," +thought Denise, whose face was still wet with tears. "I do not +like to afford this wicked woman the spectacle of my sorrow."</p> + +<p>The young maid left the room, together with the servant. +Alone with the councilman's wife, Marguerite addressed her +dryly:</p> + +<p>"I am greatly astonished to see you here, madam; our friendly +relations must cease."</p> + +<p>"I understand your astonishment, poor Dame Marguerite, seeing +we have not met since the day of the funeral of Perrin Macé. +Oh, Master Marcel's popularity was then immense; people called<a name="page_234" id="page_234"></a> +him then the King of Paris ... they swore by him ... +he was looked upon as the saviour of the city——"</p> + +<p>"Madam, I beg you to speak less of the past and more of the +present.... Make your visit short. What do you want +of me?"</p> + +<p>"First of all to beg you to forget the little quarrel we two had +on the day of the funeral of Perrin Macé. Next I come to render +a great service to poor Master Marcel."</p> + +<p>"My husband excites nobody's pity ... he does not need +your services."</p> + +<p>"Alack! I wish I could leave you in that error, Dame Marguerite. +But I must tell you the truth, and inform you, seeing +you are not aware of it, that you no longer are the 'Queen of +Paris' as you were in the days when Master Marcel was the +King. Even at the risk of wounding your legitimate pride, I +must add against my will that your husband's position has become +desperate.... I feel distressed at the sorrow that +overwhelms you——"</p> + +<p>"Your excellent heart is unnecessarily alarmed, Dame Petronille. +Do not mind my sorrow."</p> + +<p>"Unfortunately, however, I am certain of what I say."</p> + +<p>"Madame, I greatly mistrust both your protestations and your +confidences."</p> + +<p>"You do not seem to be informed on what is transpiring in +Paris."</p> + +<p>"I know that there are wicked and envious people in Paris."</p> + +<p>"I know you too well, Dame Marguerite, to imagine that a wise +and discreet person like yourself would reproach me with being +envious——"</p> + +<p>"Indeed, I would not venture, madam.... I would indeed +not venture——"</p> + +<p>"And you would be right. What is there in your present fate +to be envied. A storm is beating down upon you."</p> + +<p>"Envious people do not need much to be envious about. They<a name="page_235" id="page_235"></a> +envy even the calmness and courage derived from a clean conscience, +when misfortune is on!"</p> + +<p>"You admit it?... Misfortune has come upon you and +your husband?" cried the councilman's wife triumphantly, and +for a moment forgetting her rôle of hypocrite. But recalling herself, +she added cajolingly: "The avowal at least makes me hope +that you will accept the services of my husband."</p> + +<p>Realizing the gravity of the last words of the councilman's +wife, Marguerite fixed a penetrating look upon her and answered:</p> + +<p>"Did Master Maillart send you to offer his services to my husband? +Whence such solicitude?"</p> + +<p>"Have the two not been friends since their childhood? Is the +friendship of youth ever forgotten? You have earned our affection."</p> + +<p>"It is so at least with generous hearts. But if Master Maillart +wishes to render a service to my husband, why should he send +you, madam? Does he not meet Marcel daily at the town-hall?"</p> + +<p>"Since last evening, neither Maillart nor any of his friends +have set foot at the town-hall ... and for good reasons. +And for another reason he would not set foot here. That is why +he has commissioned me to come and offer you his advice and +services."</p> + +<p>"What does he advise ... what are his services?"</p> + +<p>"Maillart advises your husband to secretly leave Paris this +very night."</p> + +<p>"We now know the advice; it implies a great resolution.... +As to the service ... what is it?"</p> + +<p>"My husband offers to favor Marcel's flight if you adopt his +advice."</p> + +<p>"And how?"</p> + +<p>"Maillart will send a trusty man to your house towards midnight. +He shall accompany your husband. He is to wrap himself +up well so as not to be recognized, and confidently follow +our emissary, who is charged to see him safely off.... But<a name="page_236" id="page_236"></a> +your husband must be absolutely alone, otherwise our emissary +will refuse to conduct him."</p> + +<p>"It seems to me that in his eagerness to advise and serve, +Master Maillart forgets that Marcel and the town council—the +governors, as they are called—are still masters of Paris. The +captains of tens and the guards at the gates still obey them. If +it should happen—a thing that I consider impossible—that my +husband should contemplate quitting his post at the moment of +danger, he would take horse with some of his friends, and would +order whatever gate of Paris he chose to be opened.... He +has the right and the power to do so."</p> + +<p>"You would be right if Master Marcel's orders would be +obeyed, if these were still the days when, lording it over all Paris, +he had the first place at all ceremonies.... But the times +have changed, good Dame Marguerite. At this very hour in +which I am speaking to you, your husband's authority is about +to be ignored. If he tried to order one of the gates of Paris to +be opened, his action would confirm the rumors concerning his +treason. People would cry: 'Hold the traitor! Death to the +traitor!' A hundred avenging arms would rise, and Master +Marcel would fall under their blows dead, disfigured, bleeding, +butchered!... His body would be torn to pieces.... +That would then be his fate!"</p> + +<p>"Enough! Enough!" stammered Marguerite, shivering and +hiding her face in her hands. "This is horrible. Hold your +tongue!"</p> + +<p>"Would not such a death be awful, dear Dame Marguerite? +Therefore, in order to save his friends from such a fate, my husband +charged me to come and offer you his services."</p> + +<p>Despite the poor opinion in which she held Maillart and his +wife, whose envy she was aware of, Marguerite did not imagine +that the proposition of the councilman, one of Marcel's oldest +friends and, like himself, of the popular party, could conceal a +trap or a snare. Marguerite even took it for a token of sincere +pity, easily supposable from the part of envious people at the<a name="page_237" id="page_237"></a> +moment of their triumph over a rival. Moreover, did not the +state of public opinion in Paris, on which Marguerite had that +very evening sought to assure herself, but too well confirm the +words of the councilman's wife on the subject of Marcel's increasing +unpopularity? On the other hand, Marguerite was too +well acquainted with her husband's force of character and his +energy not to feel assured that, unless he was reduced to utter +extremities, he never would decide to leave Paris as a fugitive. +Nevertheless, the hour of that terrible extremity might arrive. +In that case Maillart's offer was not to be despised. These +thoughts rapidly flashed through Marguerite's mind. She remained +pensive and silent for a moment, while the councilman's +wife observed her closely and anxiously awaited her answer.</p> + +<p>"Dame Maillart," finally answered Marguerite, "I wish to believe, +I believe in the generous impulses that dictated the tender +of services that you have just made me in the name of your +husband."</p> + +<p>"Then, it is understood?" said the councilman's wife, with an +eagerness that should have excited Marguerite's suspicion. "The +emissary will be here at midnight. Let your husband follow him +without taking any companion.... He must have no escort.... +That is understood."</p> + +<p>"Allow me, Dame Petronille. I can not go so far as to accept +your offer in my husband's name. He alone is the judge of +his conduct. He gave me reasons to believe that he would be +here this evening to take a few hours' rest. If my expectations +prove true, I shall soon see him.... I shall notify him of +Master Maillart's proposition. Ask your husband to send his +emissary here at midnight. My husband will decide."</p> + +<p>"He should not hesitate a moment. Believe me, poor Dame +Marguerite, you must exert your whole influence upon your husband, +and decide him to avail himself of the one opportunity of +escape left to him. He is in great danger."</p> + +<p>At this juncture Denise entered the room affecting great hurry +and said: "Aunt, Dame Alison wishes to see you privately; she<a name="page_238" id="page_238"></a> +has no time to wait." To these words Denise added a significant +gesture conveying to Marguerite the hint to seize the opportunity +for putting an end to the visit of the detested Dame Petronille.</p> + +<p>Marguerite understood the thoughts of her niece, and said to +the councilman's wife: "Please excuse me, there is a visitor I +must receive."</p> + +<p>"Adieu, good Dame Marcel," said the councilman's wife, taking +a step towards the door. "Fail not to remember my advice.... +We must know how to resign ourselves to what can not +be prevented.... The days follow, but do not resemble each +other.... For the rest you understand me. Good evening, +dear Dame Marguerite, I wish you happier days. May God preserve +you and yours!"</p> + +<p>As always, not envy here followed hatred, but hatred envy. +Born of the rankling enviousness that the unworthy entertain for +the worthy, Petronille Maillart was consumed with malevolent +hatred for the man and woman whose ruin she was plotting. +Casting upon Marguerite the furtive look of a viper, Dame Petronille +took her leave.<a name="page_239" id="page_239"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_II-d" id="CHAPTER_II-d"></a>CHAPTER II.<br /><br /> +LAST DAY AT HOME.</h3> + +<p>The handsome tavern-keeper, who now entered in response to +the summons of Denise, looked neat and prim as ever. Her beautiful +black eyes, her white teeth, her comely shape, above all her +golden heart—all justified the partiality of the student Rufin for +this amiable and honorable woman to the total eclipse of Margot. +Finally, thanks to Jocelyn, Alison had not only saved her honor +from the clutches of Captain Griffith, but also quite a round +sum of gold, sewed in her skirt, from the rapacity of the English. +Jocelyn the Champion, once Alison's defender against Simon +the Hirsute and later her liberator, when exposed to the libertinage +of the bastard of Norfolk, had inspired her with sentiments +more tender than merely those of gratitude. Nevertheless, +apprized of the engagement of Denise and Jocelyn, the young +woman struggled bravely against the promptings of her heart, +and seeking to free her mind from the affectionate thoughts that +crowded upon her, had found pleasure in observing that, despite +his turbulence, Rufin the Tankard-smasher lacked neither devotion, +nor heart, nor brightness, nor yet external attractions. +Thus, since the day when, fleeing from the horrors of the war +that desolated Beauvoisis, she had taken refuge in Paris near +the family of the provost to whom she had been recommended +by Jocelyn, Alison often met the student in her little lodgings +at the inn where she housed, and it often occurred to her that, +despite his name, which sounded particularly unpleasant in a +tavern-keeper's ear, Rufin the Tankard-smasher might after all +not make a bad husband. Moreover, her vanity was not a little +flattered by the hope of herself opening a tavern, whose principal +customers would be the students of the University of Paris. Received<a name="page_240" id="page_240"></a> +with kindness by Marguerite and Denise, Alison entertained +for both a deep sense of gratitude. On this evening she +had hastened to Marcel's house in the hope of being of service +to them. Observing the signs of uneasiness depicted on the tavern-keeper's +face, Marguerite said to her affectionately, taking +her hands:</p> + +<p>"Good evening, dear Alison ... you look alarmed.... +Tell us the cause of your trouble."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Dame Marguerite! I have but too much reason for being +alarmed, if not for myself, yet for you"; and interrupting herself +she added: "First of all, and so as not to forget the circumstance, +I must warn you that coming in I saw three men enveloped +in cloaks who seem to be in hiding on some ambuscade. +These men seem to have evil intents."</p> + +<p>"Agnes, our servant, also noticed them," said Denise; "we are +forewarned."</p> + +<p>"They are no doubt spies," replied Marguerite. "But Marcel +need not fear the consequences of being spied upon. Whatever +he does is in the public interest, and none of his acts need concealment. +Nevertheless, seeing that hatred now dogs his steps +... the information may be useful."</p> + +<p>"It is distressing to me, Dame Marguerite, to bring what may +be bad news to you, who received me so kindly upon my arrival +from Beauvoisis."</p> + +<p>"Our friend Jocelyn recommended you to us; he informed us +of your misfortunes and of your tender care of that ill-starred +Aveline. Our good wishes in your behalf were but natural. But +what is the matter?"</p> + +<p>"This evening I was looking out of the window of my room at +the tumult of the people in the street, because you must know +there is an unusual agitation this evening on the streets of Paris, +when a young man all out of breath, handed me this note from +Rufin the Tankard-smasher."</p> + +<p>Alison drew from her corsage a slip of paper which she passed +to Marguerite, who nervously seizing it began to read it aloud:<a name="page_241" id="page_241"></a></p> + +<p>"As true as Venus in her Olympian beauty...."</p> + +<p>"Skip that, skip that, Dame Marguerite! Begin at the fourth +or fifth line," said Alison, blushing and smiling at once. "Those +are but flourishes that Master Rufin amuses himself with. Lose +no more time over them than I did myself.... That worthy +fellow should have abstained from his roguishness when writing +upon such serious subjects."</p> + +<p>After having run her eyes over the first lines of the epistle, +during which the student displayed his amorous and mythological +vein, Marguerite arrived at the essential portion of the missive:</p> + +<p>" ... Hurry to the house of Master Marcel; if he is not +at home, tell his honored wife to have him warned not to leave +the town-hall without a strong escort. I am on the track of a +plot against him. So soon as I shall have positive proofs I shall +go either to Master Marcel's house, or to the town-hall to inform +him of my discovery. Above all, let him be on his guard against +Councilman Maillart. He has no more mortal enemy. He ought +to order his arrest on the spot ... just as I would on the +spot have your heart for my prison whose turnkey is the gentle +bantling Cupid."</p> + +<p>"Skip all that also, Dame Marguerite; those are some more +flourishes. There is nothing more of importance. I am not a +little surprised at seeing master student mix up folly with serious +matter in that manner."</p> + +<p>"Serious, indeed! Very serious!... This letter increases +my apprehensions," answered Marguerite, trembling; and +recalling her recent conversation with the councilman's wife, she +thought to herself: "Could the councilman's offer be a snare?... +And still I can not yet accept the existence of quite so +horrible a plot!"</p> + +<p>"My God!" cried Denise bitterly, "and yet uncle, despite all +our presentiments, always answers us when we mention to him +our suspicions regarding Maillart: 'He is not a bad sort of a +man; only he is wholly under the influence of his wife, who is +devoured with vanity. Do not judge him unjustly.'"<a name="page_242" id="page_242"></a></p> + +<p>"Dear Alison," rejoined Marguerite after a few moments' reflection, +"did you question the messenger who brought you the +letter?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed, madam ... I asked where he had left Master +Rufin."</p> + +<p>"What answer did he make?"</p> + +<p>"That the student was in a tavern near the arcade of St. Nicholas +when he handed him the letter."</p> + +<p>As Alison was uttering the last words, two men wrapped to the +eyes in cloaks entered the room. Marguerite immediately recognized +her husband and Jocelyn the Champion. As they were +throwing off their wraps, Marguerite cried: "At last, here you +are!" and unable longer to control her emotions, she threw her +arms around Marcel's neck, while Denise gave her hand to her +lover, who respectfully took it to his lips. Under his armor +Jocelyn wore a black jacket, a piece of clothing that he had +assumed since the day that he witnessed the execution of Mazurec +the Lambkin. Sad and pale, the face of Jocelyn betokened the +grief that beset his mind. After tenderly embracing Marcel, +who effusively returned her caresses, Marguerite said, delivering +to him Rufin the Tankard-smasher's letter:</p> + +<p>"My friend, take notice of what this latter contains; our good +Alison just brought it to me in great haste."</p> + +<p>Marcel read the letter in a low voice in the midst of the profound +silence of all present, while Marguerite, his niece and Alison +attentively watched his face. He remained calm throughout. +He even smiled at the mythological flourishes of the student. +When he had finished the letter he returned it to Alison, saying +kindly:</p> + +<p>"I thank you for your anxiety to bring me the missive, Dame +Alison; our friend Rufin is wrongly alarmed."</p> + +<p>"Nevertheless, my friend," put in Marguerite with intense +seriousness, "what about the plot that the student mentions, and +on the track of which he says he is?"<a name="page_243" id="page_243"></a></p> + +<p>"Rufin must have exaggerated to himself the importance of +some insignificant fact, my dear Marguerite."</p> + +<p>"But ... did you notice what he said about Maillart?"</p> + +<p>"Last evening Maillart affectionately shook me by the hand +when leaving the town-hall after a discussion in which his opinion +differed from mine. 'Men,' said he to me, 'may differ, but +the bonds of old friendship are indissoluble,' he added."</p> + +<p>Jocelyn confirmed the episode, but Marguerite insisted, the +disclosures of the student having gone far to confirm her suspicions +against the councilman. "Marcel," said the alarmed wife, +"Maillart's wife was here this evening ... she came to propose +a place of refuge for you in case of danger——"</p> + +<p>"The generous offer does not surprise me."</p> + +<p>"A man is to come here this midnight ... you are to +follow him alone ... well wrapt in your mantle," said +Marguerite with emphasis. "Alone ... do you hear, Marcel?... and he is to conduct you to a place whence you +shall be able to flee without danger."</p> + +<p>"This is too much kindness," Marcel answered with a smile. +"I am grateful for the offer; I do not think of fleeing, that is +certain.... We never have been so near the triumph."</p> + +<p>"What!" cried Marguerite encouraged by new hope. "Is that +true? And yet, why all this commotion.... Why this tumult +in Paris ... why these alarming rumors?" And her +apprehensions that for an instant had been allayed by the reassuring +words of her husband, again regaining the upperhand, +she proceeded sadly: "The precaution that you as well as Jocelyn +took of enveloping yourselves in these cloaks, no doubt for +the purpose of not being recognized on the street—all these +things contribute to make me fear that you are deceiving yourself +... or that out of consideration for me, you are concealing +the true state of things."</p> + +<p>"Aunt forgot to tell you that three men seem to have been +watching our house all evening," said Denise, and it did not +escape her that Jocelyn seemed struck by the circumstance.<a name="page_244" id="page_244"></a></p> + +<p>"And I also," observed Alison, "noticed at entering that there +seemed to be three spies near the house. Their presence is +strange."</p> + +<p>"My friend," said Marguerite, seeking to detect from her husband's +face whether his feeling of safety was real or assumed, "I +sent you this evening a note that I wrote to you at our friend's, +Simon the Feather-dealer. I there informed you of my impressions +on my personal observations, and urged you to take precautionary +measures."</p> + +<p>"I received your letter, my dear wife," said Marcel, tenderly +taking Marguerite's hands. "You trust me, do you not?... +Very well; believe me when I assert that your fears are unfounded. +Better than anybody else do I know what is going on +in Paris this evening. Are our enemies active? I let them +talk, certain that I shall lead my work to a happy issue, as my +device proclaims. For the rest, is not my presence here the best +proof of my confidence in the situation? Upon receipt of your +letter I decided to leave the town-hall for a moment in order to +come and calm your fears, to comfort you, and also to beg of +you not to alarm yourself if it should happen that I do not return +home all day to-morrow.... To-morrow grave matters +will be decided. And to sum up," Marcel proceeded, cheerfully, +"as I mean to overthrow all your objections, you dear, timid +soul, I shall add that it was partly due to my modesty that I enveloped +myself in that cloak. I meant to reach here and return +without being stopped twenty times on the street by the cheers +of the people. Despite the envy and hatred of some of the bourgeois +partisans of the Regent, Marcel continues to be loved by the +people of Paris."</p> + +<p>"And you would not doubt it, Dame Marguerite," added Jocelyn, +"if you had heard, as I did, the addresses delivered to-day +by the trades guilds, all of which came to pledge their loyalty to +Master Marcel."</p> + +<p>Jocelyn's words, the cheerful and serene physiognomy of the +provost and the tone of conviction that marked his words, somewhat<a name="page_245" id="page_245"></a> allayed the fears of Marguerite and Denise, the latter of +whom said to Marcel: "Your presence suffices to encourage us, +dear uncle, just as the sight of the physician sometimes suffices +to allay the pains of a patient."</p> + +<p>"My worthy Jocelyn," Marcel said, cheerfully, turning to the +champion, "that applies to you as much as to me ... you +happy and beloved lover!"</p> + +<p>"Dear Denise," said the champion to the blushing maid, "the +mourning for my poor brother has put off our marriage.... +I do not very much regret the circumstance when I consider that +in these days of turmoil I could not have devoted all my time to +you. But believe Master Marcel; better days are approaching. +Need I tell you that they are the subject of my ardent wishes, +seeing that they will witness our union?"</p> + +<p>"Dame Alison," cordially put in Marcel, "since marriage is the +topic of the conversation, take pity on the amorous martyrdom +of poor Rufin.... He is a good and loyal heart, despite +some transports of youth that earned for him the nickname of +'Tankard-smasher.' I feel quite sure that the wholesome influence +of a kind and honorable woman like yourself would make +an excellent husband of him. It would be a double pleasure to +me to see you and Rufin, Denise and Jocelyn, approach the altar +the same day. What say you?"</p> + +<p>"That needs thinking over," answered Alison, meditatively. +"That needs much thinking over, Master Marcel. For the rest," +she proceeded, with a blush and a sigh, "I say neither 'yes' nor +'no'.... I wish to consult Dame Marguerite."</p> + +<p>"Rufin's prospects are good," rejoined the provost. "The +woman who says not nay ever has a strong wish to say aye."</p> + +<p>"Marcel would not be so cheerful and jovial did he actually +believe himself and his partisans on the eve of grave dangers," +thought Marguerite, now more and more reassured by the turn +of gaiety her husband's words had taken. "I must have attached +exaggerated importance to what I heard this evening. My husband +is right. Even when his popularity is strongest, calumny<a name="page_246" id="page_246"></a> +pursues him. Maillart may be yielding simultaneously both to +envy and the more generous feelings prompted by old friendship. +He may believe in the loss of popularity by Marcel and enjoy +the idea, and yet wish to save him. That wicked Petronille has +merely thrown poison into an offer that, in itself, is honorable. +If it were otherwise, Maillart would be the vilest of men, and +that I am not ready to believe. Such a degree of perversity would +exceed the bounds of possibility——"</p> + +<p>"Denise," said the provost, kissing his niece on the forehead, +"order a lamp to be taken into my cabinet. I have some documents +to finish." Turning to his wife, whom he also kissed on +the forehead: "I shall see you again before I leave," and taking +Jocelyn by the arm: "Come, we have work to attend to."</p> + +<p>Denise hastened to carry a lamp into Marcel's cabinet, where +she left her uncle and her lover closeted together.<a name="page_247" id="page_247"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_III-d" id="CHAPTER_III-d"></a>CHAPTER III.<br /><br /> +DARKENING SHADOWS.</h3> + +<p>Once alone in his cabinet with Jocelyn, Marcel sank into profound +pensiveness. The cheerful serenity that had pervaded his +bearing during the conversation with his wife was now replaced +by an expression of melancholic seriousness. For a few minutes +he contemplated in silence his studious retreat, the witness +of the meditations of his riper years. Finally, leaning over a +large table that was strewn with parchments, he emitted a sigh +and said to Jocelyn:</p> + +<p>"How many nights have I not spent here, elaborating by the +light of this little lamp the plans of reform that some day, hap +now what hap may, will be the solid basis for the emancipation +of our people, the evangelium of the rights of the citizen!... +Here have been spent the happiest, the most beautiful days of +my life!... What a pure joy did I not then taste!... +Sustained by my ardent love for justice and right, and enlightened +by the lessons of the past, I soared upward to the sublimest +theories of freedom!... I then was ignorant of the +deceptions, the evils, the delays, the struggles, the storms that +the practice and application of truth inevitably engender!... +I then saw truth in its radiant simplicity!... I +did not then reckon with human passions!... But that +matters not!... Truth is absolute.... Sooner or +later it imposes itself upon humanity that ever is on the march, +progresses and improves itself...."</p> + +<p>Jocelyn listened to Marcel in mute reverence. He now beheld +that illustrious man wrapt with pensive brow in ever deeper meditation. +A few instants later, Marcel stepped towards an oaken +trunk that age had blackened. He opened it, took out several<a name="page_248" id="page_248"></a> +rolls of parchment, lay them on the table, pushed a stool near +and sat down to write. His virile and characterful face betrayed +by degrees increasing sadness, and, to Jocelyn's surprise several +tears dropped from the provost's eyes upon the lines that he was +writing. Tears from so great a man, from a man of such energy, +endowed with ancient stoicism, profoundly impressed the champion. +Jocelyn's heart ached, and he began to suspect Marcel's +motives for the affectation of safety that he had shortly before +displayed before his family. Jocelyn saw him dry his tears and +seal the parchment with black wax, using for that purpose the +impress of a large gold ring that he wore on his finger, after +which, placing the scroll together with the others that he had +taken from the trunk, he made one package of all, sealed them +together and replaced them in the trunk. He then locked it, and +giving the key to Jocelyn, said to him deliberately:</p> + +<p>"Keep this key safe.... I charge you to deliver it to my +wife and to tell her, in case certain events should happen, that +she will find in that trunk, together with my testament and +some other papers that it is well to keep, a letter for herself +... written by me this evening ... written for my +beloved Marguerite...."</p> + +<p>"Master Marcel," Jocelyn answered, a cold shudder running +over his frame, "these are lugubrious preparations."</p> + +<p>"Lugubrious?... no ... but prudent.... I +have fulfilled my sacred duty.... I now find myself in a +singular frame of mind.... The latest happenings, those +of to-day, cast over my mind, not any doubt upon the decision +I should take, but considerable uncertainty on the head of the +means to be adopted. Never yet have I been so in need of a clearness +of judgment as now, when I must take some supreme and +irrevocable step. I imagine that by talking over the general condition +of things, these will stand out more clearly before me. +Thought expressed in words becomes preciser, while mute it +often fades from one thing to another and is lost to the goal in +mind. Therefore, listen to me, and if in the rough sketch that<a name="page_249" id="page_249"></a> +I shall present any omission should strike you, any point should +seem obscure, tell me so.... It is a friendly duty that I +now conjure you to fulfill."</p> + +<p>"I listen, Master Marcel."</p> + +<p>"Upon your return from Clermont—pardon that I open the +wound of your private sorrow—I also wept over the death of +your unfortunate brother—upon your return from Clermont, you +informed me of the massacre of the Jacques. The following day +we learned that the Captal of Buch and the Count of Foix exterminated +at Meaux another considerable troop of revolted peasants. +Finally, recovering from the stupor into which these formidable +insurrections had struck it, the nobility gathered its +forces and running over the country it put a mass of serfs, men, +women and children, to frightful tortures and to death, whether +these sympathized with the Jacquerie or not, and set their villages +on fire. That settled, at least for a long time to come, all thought +of an alliance between the townsfolks and the country people. +The destruction of the Jacquerie reduces the bourgeoisie to its +own forces in its struggle against the Regent. The bourgeoisie +has, thereupon, no choice but either to accept the unequal fight +or deliver itself to Charles the Wicked, and instead of dictating +terms to him, accept those that he may choose to dictate to us."</p> + +<p>"That was the calculation of the blood-thirsty knave. He said +so explicitly to me at Clermont."</p> + +<p>"Nevertheless, by massacring the Jacques, skillful politician +though Charles the Wicked be, he deprived himself of powerful +auxiliaries against the Regent, whose forces are far superior to +those of his own. He may fail in his calculations."</p> + +<p>"The scoundrelly prince! Had he followed your generous advice, +his own hands, re-inforced by thousands of armed peasants +and thousands of bourgeois, would by now have crushed the royal +troops. And profiting by the general enthusiasm of the people, +who are as exasperated at the English as at the seigneurs, Charles +the Wicked would now be chasing the foreigners from our soil +and would ascend the throne in the midst of the acclamations<a name="page_250" id="page_250"></a> +of a people whom he would govern placing before them the example +of submission to the national assembly."</p> + +<p>"Such was the glorious mission that opened before Charles +the Wicked. It is not yet too late if he would only have the +courage, the wisdom and the loyalty to devote himself body and +soul to so noble an aim. I shall presently explain that. At +present, however, he is, just as ourselves, no other than a rebel +against the loyal authority of the Regent. The latter disposes +of considerable forces. He has on his side the monarchic tradition, +which in the eyes of the people runs back into the night +of the ages; he has on his side the royal name, the courtiers, the +clergy, the royal officers, the administrators of the revenue and of +justice, in short, all those who live upon abuses and exactions—a +huge clientage that imparts formidable strength to the Regent. +Charles the Wicked is too clear-sighted not to have realized +by now all that he lost by destroying the Jacquerie, and how +slight his chances now are of usurping the crown. He must +have thought of an eventual settlement with the Regent in case +our cause, to whose side he still seems to lean, should be seriously +compromised, or actually lost."</p> + +<p>"Do you believe that Charles the Wicked has actually negotiated +with the Regent?"</p> + +<p>"Everything makes me think so. The conduct of the King +of Navarre during these last days reveals a man who is wavering +between ambition to ascend the throne and the fear of a defeat +which he would have to pay for with his life and the loss of his +domains. He sends us a few insignificant reinforcements, but +refuses to enter Paris. He has accepted the title of captain-general +of our city, but the queen, his mother, has frequent interviews +with the Regent. The hour is critical. The court party exploits +at our expense and with its habitual perfidy the present +national calamities whose original causes are the insane prodigalities +of the court itself. King John and his creatures have driven +both towns and country districts to desperation with their acts +of rapine and violence and their unbearable imposts. A revolution<a name="page_251" id="page_251"></a> +broke out. We conquered radical reforms. These were +expected to inaugurate an era of peace and prosperity unequaled +in the annals of the land, because liberty is at once well-being and +independence. But liberty is complete only with the possession +of the instruments of work."</p> + +<p>"A profound truth, Master Marcel. Tyranny ever engenders +servitude, and servitude misery. Only by freeing them from +seigniorial tyranny could the insurrection of the serfs insure to +these the enjoyment of the fruits of the earth which they now +cultivate for their own butchers."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but all revolution is arduous and rough. It cannot overnight +remedy ills that are the fatal inheritance of the past. Sometimes +such ills are even temporarily aggravated by the remedial +revolution, as the cauterized wound for a while smarts worse than +before. These ills, these sufferings, have been carried to their +extreme by the ravages of the English after the battle of Poitiers. +The people have valiantly endured them, placing their confidence +in the revolution of 1357. The city council, presided over by myself, +the 'governors' in short, as the body is called, have been +forced to exercise a temporary dictatorship, often to resort to +energetic and even terrible measures in order to make front +against the English at our gates, and the court party inside of +our walls. The people at first accepted the dictatorship for the +sake of the safety of the city, but they have since fallen away +when they found that we could not instantly meet their expectations +of material well-being. The people are tired of dictatorship, +and now in their credulous despair they lend ear to the mischievous +words of their own enemies! They are ready to withdraw +from the struggle instead of finishing the work of emancipation! +The people now deplore their rebellion; they are ready to curse the +councilmen who have sacrificed their repose and their property, +and even exposed their lives in the effort of emancipation. They +imagine that by humbly submitting to the Regent, that by meekly +resuming their yoke, the ills they now suffer from will vanish. +Perchance to-morrow the people will be dragging me to the scaffold,<a name="page_252" id="page_252"></a> +me who so recently was their idol!" After a few seconds +of silence the provost resumed: "To sum up, we can now barely +count with the support of the masses; Charles the Wicked is a +doubtful ally; the Regent a formidable adversary."</p> + +<p>"Unhappily the manifestations of the defection of the people, +whom the manoeuvres of the Regent's party have done their best +to promote, have struck me during the last few days. Must all +hope be given up, Master Marcel?"</p> + +<p>"No! No! I merely wished to establish the critical aspect +of our situation. But all is not lost. By virtue of their very fickleness +the people are capable of sudden revulsions. A considerable +section of the bourgeoisie, firmly resolved to carry our +work to a happy issue, in the language of my device, will go with +us to the end, whatever the dangers be that menace our lives and +property in case of failure. We still can make our influence felt +among the masses; we can arouse their enthusiasm, wrench them +free from their acquiesence in the enemy's suggestions, adopt terrible +measures against these, and gain a decisive victory over the +Regent. But seeing that the Jacquerie is annihilated, it would +be insane to undertake such a struggle without the support of +Charles the Wicked. This, then, is our last resource. This +very night I shall induce the prince to declare himself against +the Regent, and sufficiently compromise himself so as to force +him to the alternative of vanquishing with us and ruling, or of +losing both his life and his property should the Regent prevail. +If he accepts my propositions, then Charles the Wicked, having +staked his head for a crown, will enter Paris at the head of his +Navarrians. We shall make a supreme effort; we shall arouse +the people and shall take the field against the Regent. If we +are victorious, we shall then rouse against the English the peasants +that have escaped the vengeance of the nobility. The foreigner +will be beaten back; delivered from her domestic and her +foreign foes, Gaul will delegate her sovereignty to Charles of +Navarre under control of the national assembly. Our provinces<a name="page_253" id="page_253"></a> +will then form a powerful confederation with us as the center."</p> + +<p>"Such a result would be admirable. But would Charles the +Wicked keep his promise once he is crowned King of France? +Will he submit to the laws of the States General?"</p> + +<p>"He would have submitted to all our conditions before the annihilation +of the Jacquerie which was a counterpoise to his bands +of mercenaries. But when he mounts the throne the force of circumstances +will compel him to keep a large number of the reforms +very much like a gift of joy. Thus a part of our conquests +over the royalty will have been assured. Nor is that all. The +masses, still steeped in ignorance are slavish. Accustomed +through centuries to being governed despotically by a prince of +royal lineage, they can arrive only by degrees at free government +under elective magistrates, as were the communal towns at the +time of their enfranchisement. But experience will be gradually +gained. Is not the mere fact of the overthrow of one dynasty +and the setting up of a new at the will of the citizens, an immense +step forward? The divine prestige of the royalty will have received +a death-blow. The power of choosing a sovereign implies +the right to depose him. And, finally, let us not lose sight of +this, always supposing that Charles the Wicked succeeds in the +war: Gaul will be delivered of the English; after that, whatever +may happen, the nobility will preserve the memory of the +formidable insurrection of the Jacques; it will feel itself compelled +to ease the yoke, realizing that, driven again to extremities, +Jacques Bonhomme might again wield the fork, the scythe and +the torch."</p> + +<p>"Aye, Master Marcel, the future is bright ... provided +Charles the Wicked openly pronounces against the Regent, and +we triumph."</p> + +<p>"I have weighed everything, calculated everything. If we succumb +in this supreme conflict, Charles the Wicked will share our +defeat and, like us, will pay for his rebellion with his head. He +is, at best, a wicked prince; the Regent will return to Paris<a name="page_254" id="page_254"></a> +just as he would inevitably do if the King of Navarre refuses +to embrace our cause. It would be an act of folly to try to +oppose the Regent without him. Let us examine this last +hypothesis. Aiming at putting an end to the hesitations of +Charles the Wicked, I have forced him to decide this very +night—"</p> + +<p>"This very night?"</p> + +<p>"At one o'clock to-morrow morning I shall await the King of +Navarre at the St. Antoine gate. I declared to him yesterday +at St. Denis that I shall no longer count with him, and shall +look upon him as a traitor if at the hour I mentioned he does +not appear at the rendezvous so as to enter Paris with me and +to solemnly announce to-morrow at the town-hall his adherence +to our cause, and the support of his arms. We are left to our +own forces if Charles the Wicked fails to put in his appearance +to-night."</p> + +<p>"What did he answer you, Master Marcel?"</p> + +<p>"He answered me in his usual manner, that he would think it +over. Now, then, if the fear of losing his domains and of risking +his head carries the day over his ambition, he will go and throw +himself at the feet of the Regent and will offer him his services +in atonement for his past conduct. The Regent has great interest +in temporizing with such an adversary. He will grant +him pardon, and the two will march upon Paris at the head of +their combined troops. Our city will then fall back under the +monarchic yoke."</p> + +<p>"Then, Master Marcel," cried Jocelyn, "let us call to arms +all the stout-hearted people of the city; let us then close our +gates and lock ourselves behind our ramparts that are now so +well fortified by your foresight and zeal; let us be killed to the +last man; let not the Regent re-enter his capital but through +the breach that he will have to make over our corpses!"</p> + +<p>"Such a resolution is heroic. But you forget the horrors that +follow the capture of a city by assault. You forget Meaux delivered<a name="page_255" id="page_255"></a> +to the flames by the Captal of Buch and the Count of +Foix; the women assaulted, old men and children slaughtered or +perishing in the flames! Shall I deliver Paris to such a fate, +Paris the head and heart of Gaul? No! To attempt to resist +the Regent without the assistance of Charles the Wicked would +be to expose ourselves to annihilation. Let us prefer a salutary +sacrifice to a sterile heroism. Even our defeat will be fruitful."</p> + +<p>"Master Marcel, I do not understand you now."</p> + +<p>"Whatever the stubbornness and duplicity of the Regent may +be, the terrible lessons he has received will not be lost upon him. +A fugitive before the popular uprising, he was forced to leave +the palace of the Louvre furtively ... he has seen himself +on the point of losing his crown. If, thanks to the submission +of the Parisians, he should re-enter the city, however he may +seek to satiate his vengeance and satisfy his royal pride, he will +feel compelled to observe certain reforms. These, no doubt, will +be less numerous than Charles the Wicked would have accepted +in order to consolidate his usurpation. Nevertheless, whatever +they be and however few, these reforms will remain safe to posterity, +our revolution will have borne some fruit, the burden that +weighed upon the people will have been lightened. Do you +grasp my sense?... What is it that astonishes you?"</p> + +<p>"In order to satisfy the resentment of the Regent and slake +his vengeance, the heads of the chiefs of the rebellion will be +demanded."</p> + +<p>"Some heads will be demanded!" answered Marcel with +Spartan simplicity. "Yes, the Regent will demand my own +head first of all and also the heads of the governors, the principal +leaders in the rebellion.... Very well! We shall +deliver our heads to the Regent.... My friends and I are +in accord upon that.... This conversation elucidates, as +I expected of it, the facts that are to be considered, and confirms +me in my resolution. At one in the morning I shall proceed +to the gate of St. Antoine, where I shall expect to meet Charles<a name="page_256" id="page_256"></a> +the Wicked. If he fails to come, I shall take horse and ride to +the Regent's camp at Charenton. I shall offer him my life; if +that does not suffice him, I shall offer him the lives of my friends: +they have authorized me to dispose of their heads. In exchange, +I shall demand of the prince the observances of the reforms sworn +to in 1357. I shall demand a good deal so as to obtain something.... +These reforms will smooth the day for the advent of +our plan of government, based upon the federation of the provinces +and the permanence of the sovereign national assemblies +that will at first delegate the appearance of a crown to a phantom +king, and later, by wholly suppressing the idol, suppress royalty +itself. The government of free Gaul, free and confederated, +will then be again what it was at the time of the invasion of +Cæsar, as we learn from history and as one of your family's +legends confirms."</p> + +<p>"At the time of the abolition of the commune of Laon and of +so many other municipal republics that Louis the Lusty destroyed, +my ancestor Fergan the Quarryman said to his son, who +despaired of the future: 'Hope, my child, hope!... Have +faith in the slow, painful but irresistible progress of the race.' +He spoke truly! Thanks to your genius, I might have seen in +this very century the municipal government of the old communes—free, +benevolent and wise governments—applied no longer +to one town only but to all Gaul. Be praised for having promoted +such a step forward."</p> + +<p>"That is my dream! Social unity and administrative uniformity. +Political rights made commensurate with civic rights. +The principles of authority transferred from the crown to the +nation. The States General changed into a national assembly +under the control of the people of the towns and the country, +and the living forces of the nation; and the popular sovereignty +attested by the overthrow of one dynasty and the transfer of the +crown to another, until the day of the total suppression of the +royalty, the last vestige of the Frankish conquest!... That<a name="page_257" id="page_257"></a> +was my dream! Time will change the dream into reality. May +be I stepped in advance of my century.... Is that wrong?... +That government of the future will have been practiced +three years!... Our children will place all the stronger +reliance in the prospect of their deliverance when, instructed +by the past, they will know that their fathers actually held their +deliverance in their own hands; that, having one day assumed +their freedom, they bent and chased away the royal incumbent, +and that, if they relapsed under the yoke, it was because on the +eve of final triumph they yielded to discouragement; it was because, +after having overcome formidable obstacles, they grew +faint-hearted at the moment of reaching the ultimate goal. The +lesson will be great and profitable to our children. Perchance +the death of myself and my friends may render the lesson all the +more striking! Our death will have been as fruitful as our life!... +The scaffold will crown it!"<a name="page_258" id="page_258"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_IV-d" id="CHAPTER_IV-d"></a>CHAPTER IV.<br /><br /> +PLOTTERS UNCOVERED.</h3> + +<p>Wrapt in wonderment and admiration, Jocelyn was contemplating +the noble figure of Etienne Marcel that now seemed transfigured +in the brilliancy of the sentiments he had given utterance +to, when a knock was heard at the door. Jocelyn opened and +Denise said to him:</p> + +<p>"Jocelyn, your friend Rufin wishes to speak to you without +delay."</p> + +<p>"Master Marcel," the champion observed, "it must be about +the plot that Rufin thinks to have discovered."</p> + +<p>"My child, tell Rufin to come in," said the provost to his +niece.</p> + +<p>Rufin entered immediately. He was deeply agitated: "Master +Marcel," he said, "I believe the goddess Fortuna served me as +well this time as she did the night I discovered the flight of the +Regent"; and drawing a letter from his pocket he handed it over +to Marcel, adding: "Be kind enough to post yourself thereon; +if the message is to be judged by the messenger, it bodes nothing +good."</p> + +<p>Marcel took the letter, broke the seal, trembled when he recognized +the hand that wrote it, and carefully read its contents, +while Jocelyn, leading the student to the outer end of the cabinet, +said to him in a low voice:</p> + +<p>"How did you get the letter, friend Rufin?"</p> + +<p>"By Hercules! I got it ... by the force of my fist! +without, however, forgetting the aid that my chum Nicholas +the Thin-skinned and two Scotch students lent me. I became +acquainted with the last two about a year ago in a contest over +the flagrant superiority of the rhetoric of Fichetus over that of +Faber. Our discussion having turned from oral to manual, to<a name="page_259" id="page_259"></a> +all the greater honor of rhetoric, I preserved a striking souvenir +of their fists—"</p> + +<p>"The minutes are precious, Rufin; grave matters are at stake; +I beseech you, come to the point."</p> + +<p>"This evening, towards nightfall, I was walking on Oysters-are-fried-here +street, totally oblivious of the perfumes exhaled by +the fries, although I had dined only on a herring, and thinking +only of that treasure, that pearl, or rather of that bouquet of +roses that Dame Venus, her godmother, christened by the succulent +name of Alison—"</p> + +<p>"For heaven's sake, Rufin!"</p> + +<p>"Keep cool; I shall bid my soul hold its tongue. I shall +come to the point. Well, then, I noticed a large crowd at the +other end of the street; I elbowed my way in and reached its +front ranks. There I saw a certain large-boned scamp with a +furred cap whom I had come across before and knew to be a +bitter partisan of Maillart. The said large-boned scamp was +perorating against Master Marcel, attributing to him all the +ills we are suffering from and crying: 'We must put an end +to the tyranny of the governors. The Regent's army is gathered +at Charenton and is about to march upon us. The Regent is +furious. He wishes to set fire to his good city of Paris and +slaughter its townsmen. Maillart, the true friend of the people, +is alone able to make a front against the Regent or to negotiate +with him and thus save the city from the ruin that threatens +it.'"</p> + +<p>"Always that Maillart!"</p> + +<p>"Such language exasperated me. I was on the point of breaking +out and confounding the man of the furred cap whose words, +I must say so, were having their effect upon the mob. Some of +them had even begun to vituperate Master Marcel and the governors, +when suddenly I heard someone behind me say in Latin: +'The water begins to boil, the fish must now be thrown in,' and +another voice answered, also in Latin: 'Then let us hasten to +notify the master cook.' Seeking to fathom the mysterious<a name="page_260" id="page_260"></a> +meaning of these parables, I turned towards my Latinists at the +moment when they began to cry, this time in French: 'Good +luck to Maillart, to the devil with Marcel! He is a criminal! +A traitor! He plots with the Navarrians! Good luck to Maillart! +He alone can put an end to our ills!' A portion of the +crowd took up the cries, whereupon the lumbering scamp of the +furred cap closed his peroration and came down from the box +on which he had been perched. The two Latinists then approached +him, and while the crowd was dispersing my three +gentlemen stepped aside and conducted an animated discussion. +I did not lose sight of them; the three walked on together and +I followed, catching these broken words that they let drop: +'rendezvous,' 'horse,' 'arcade of St. Nicholas.' You know how +even at mid-day the arcade of St. Nicholas is dark and deserted. +Night was falling fast. The idea struck me that my three +worthies might be having some suspicious rendezvous at that secluded +spot, because the mysterious Latin words would not +leave my head. 'The water begins to boil' might mean the boiling +of the popular rage; 'the fish that was to be thrown in the +boiling water,' might mean Master Marcel; finally, 'the cook who +was to be notified'—"</p> + +<p>"Might be the Regent or Maillart," put in Jocelyn. "I do +not believe your penetration was at fault. It is a credit to your +sagacity."</p> + +<p>"And the words 'horse,' 'rendezvous,' 'arcade of St. Nicholas' +might mean some messenger on horseback was waiting for my +three worthies at that secluded spot. I know the place. Often +did Margot.... But I shall drop Margot! I said to myself +on the contrary: 'Oh, if now, instead of following the +lumbering scamp of the furred cap to the spot so propitious to +love, I followed the divine Alison—"</p> + +<p>The champion again made an impatient gesture, took his +friend by the arm, and pointed significantly towards the other +end of the chamber where Marcel sat with his forehead leaning +on his hand, contemplating the letter that he had just finished<a name="page_261" id="page_261"></a> +reading, and a smile at once bitter and sorrowful playing around +his lips. The student grasped Jocelyn's meaning and proceeded +in a still lower voice:</p> + +<p>"I have quick legs. I put them to use and made a short +cut on the run across St. Patern to arrive before my three men +at the arcade of St. Nicholas. The place was dark as an oven. +I listened, but heard nothing. I know the place. Groping +about I found a niche where one time stood the statue of the +saint. I vanished in the cavity, and awaited at all hazards. +I was well repaid. About fifteen minutes later steps were heard +under the vault and I recognized the voice of the man of the +furred cap whispering: 'Haloa ... haloa! John Four-Sous', +and presently a voice answered: 'He has not yet arrived +... the devil take the loafer!' 'No time is lost,' answered +a third voice, 'he only needs three hours to reach here from +Charenton on horseback; he will not fail.'"</p> + +<p>"The situation is grave," said Jocelyn. "It is at Charenton +that the Regent has his headquarters. There must be some treasonable +plot on foot."</p> + +<p>"Exactly. So you can imagine how I congratulated myself +on my discovery. Evidently there was a plot hatching with +the court party. John Four-Sous finally arrived by the other +side of the entrance of the arcade and the man of the furred cap +asked him: 'Are you ready to leave?' 'Yes, my horse stands +saddled in the stable of the inn of The Three Monkeys.' 'Very +well; here is the letter,' came from the man of the furred cap, +'Make haste to arrive at the royal encampment; deliver the letter +to the seneschal of Poitou; he will understand.' 'But will +they allow me to leave the city?' asked the messenger. 'Fear +not,' he is answered, 'the gate of St. Antoine is this evening +guarded by men of our side; Master Maillart is to be there himself; +you shall give for pass-word "Montjoie, the King and +Duke"; that will let you through. To horse, now, to horse!' +After that the man of the furred cap and his two companions +walked off by one entrance and John Four-Sous by the other. I<a name="page_262" id="page_262"></a> +left the niche where I had taken St. Nicholas' place, and followed +the messenger of whom I got a clear view when the light +of the moon fell upon him outside the vault. The scamp was +tall, sinewy and well armed. I made up my mind to seize the +letter that he carried. How to do it? I was still revolving the +matter when I saw him enter the tavern of The Three Monkeys. +I imagined he was going for his horse in the stable. Not at all! +John Four-Sous, being a man of foresight, called for supper +before starting on his journey, and through the open door I saw +him comfortably anchored at a table. Bacchus willed it that +I had often emptied more than one tankard at the tavern of The +Three Monkeys without smashing them after drinking. I knew +the inn-keeper, a worthy fellow belonging to Marcel's party. I +immediately dropped a few lines to the divine Alison whom +Dame Venus ... attached to her chariot...."</p> + +<p>"We know all about that ... come to the point."</p> + +<p>"Uncertain of what success I might meet, I wished at least to +forewarn Master Marcel, and that so soon as possible, that +something was hatching against him. The inn-keeper undertook +to forward my note to Alison's inn, and presently.... +Blessed be the goddess Fortuna, whom do I see enter but my +chum Nicholas the Thin-skinned, in the company of the Scotch +students, with whom I had once fistically discussed the merits +of the rhetoric of Fichetus. They came to drink some spiced +wine. With the corner of my eyes I was taking in John Four-Sous +devouring his ample supper. My plan was formed. I +communicated it to my friends and the inn-keeper, confiding to +them the suspicions that I entertained, and which the incident of +the arcade of St. Nicholas confirmed. Nothing simpler than +my project: Pick up a quarrel with John Four-Sous, fall upon +him, take possession of the letter, and lock up the scamp in the +cellar of The Three Monkeys so as to keep him from giving the +alarm to Maillart's party. So said, so done.... I approached +John Four-Sous' table and started quarrelling with +him. He gave me an insolent answer. I jumped at his throat<a name="page_263" id="page_263"></a> +and Nicholas the Thin-skinned rummaged through the fellow's +pockets, and seized the letter, and—"</p> + +<p>The student's account was interrupted by Marcel, who after a +long and thorough reflection, rose from his seat, and stepping +towards Jocelyn said:</p> + +<p>"I spoke to you of my quandary; this letter would have put +an end to it had not my resolution been previously taken. Do +you know who wrote this letter?"</p> + +<p>"No, Master Marcel; who is its author? A friend or an +enemy?"</p> + +<p>"My oldest friend," answered the provost with deep concern +and disgust, "John Maillart! This letter proves that for some +time, and despite his affectation of devotion for the popular cause +and his violent language against the court, Maillart was secretly +negotiating with the royalist party whose chiefs in Paris are +the Sire of Charny and the knight James of Pontoise, for the +nobility, with Maillart and the old councilmen Pastorel and +John Alphonse for the bourgeoisie. These are our worst +enemies."</p> + +<p>"Master Marcel," asked Jocelyn, "will not you and the governors +take rigorous measures against these traitors?"</p> + +<p>"They dare to conspire within our walls!" added the student. +"They seek to lead astray a credulous people! They deserve +death!"</p> + +<p>"It will have been brought on by our enemies themselves! +They must he stricken down with terror. They invoke frightful +vengeance upon Paris!" replied Marcel. "Yes, Maillart, +keeping the Regent informed upon our intestine dissensions, +upon the discouragement inspired among the masses by the +agents of the court, upon the hatred that they have incited against +us, beseeches the prince to march upon Paris, and assures him +that the people are tired of suffering. He assures him that a +movement in his favor will break out within our walls so soon as +he approaches. He informs the prince that he and his partisans +will be on guard to-night and to-morrow at the gate of St.<a name="page_264" id="page_264"></a> +Antoine, and that they will open the gates to him. Finally, +he expresses the hope of being able to deliver me to the Regent, +me whom he calls 'the soul of the revolution.'"</p> + +<p>"There can be no longer any doubt!" exclaimed Jocelyn horrified. +"So that when Maillart's wife came here this evening to +offer means for your escape to Dame Marguerite she only was +laying a trap for you."</p> + +<p>"Aye," broke in Marcel with a look of contempt, "she was +laying a trap for me. I was to trust the loyalty of my oldest +friend ... I was to go alone to his house ... and +there he was to take me prisoner and deliver me to the Regent +at his entry into Paris!"</p> + +<p>"Treason and cowardice!" cried the student indignantly. +"What a female monster! Oh, I judged her rightly from her +hypocritical lamentations at the funeral of Perrin Macé."</p> + +<p>"The envy and pride that devour her have lost Maillart," rejoined +the provost. "The vanity of that insensate woman has +driven her husband to crime and to deep baseness. That +man without character and without convictions reminds the +seneschal in his letter that the Regent promised him a patent of +nobility in consideration of the services he is rendering the +court party!... That is the Maillart that was incessantly +reproaching me for not exterminating the members of the court +party who remained in Paris!... He could not find words +enough to throw at the nobility!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Master Marcel," cried Jocelyn, "and your blood was +to be the price for the ennobling of that infamous wretch!"</p> + +<p>"This act of betrayal wounds me doubly ... I know +mankind. Nevertheless, I resisted up to this moment the belief +that Maillart could be guilty of such felony.... He, the +friend of my infancy.... But now, to work. There is now +no longer any doubt, nor can there now be any question what +step to take.... The reaction of the court party will be +merciless.... Our only chance of escape lies in the support +<a name="page_265" id="page_265"></a>of the King of Navarre ... and in the vigorous measures +that we must now take against these implacable enemies."</p> + +<p>"Master Marcel," Jocelyn whispered to the provost, "if Charles +the Wicked does not put in his appearance at the rendezvous of +this evening, what will you do then?"</p> + +<p>"I shall ride at a gallop to deliver to the Regent my own +head and the heads of the governors ... Our blood will +slake the young prince's thirst for vengeance and he will spare +Paris."</p> + +<p>A great noise, at first from a distance, was heard rapidly approaching +along the street. Presently distinct cheers were +heard: "Good luck to Marcel!" "To a happy issue, to a happy +issue!" "Good luck to Marcel!" and almost at the same time +Marguerite entered her husband's cabinet saying: "Simon +the Feather-dealer, Philip Giffart, Consac and other friends are +in arms in the street with a large number of faithful partisans +cheering for you. Our friends consider it prudent to come for +you and escort you to the town-hall."</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, Marguerite, dear and beloved wife!" said Marcel +with profound but well-controlled emotion, thinking that this +was perhaps the last time he might press to his heart the +companion of his life. "Adieu ... and may we soon meet +again!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, my friend, these cheers that acclaim you with enthusiasm +reassure me ... Our friends are guarding you."</p> + +<p>Fear nothing; I shall see you again to-morrow ... +Adieu!... Adieu once more!" repeated Marcel, who despite +his courage, felt his heart breaking at the moment of a +separation that might be eternal. Giving a last embrace to Marguerite, +Marcel descended to the street. There he was met +by several of the councilmen in the midst of a large crowd +of partisans whose sympathetic acclamations redoubled at the +sight of their idol. Discouragement had, it was true, gained over +a majority of the people. Nevertheless Marcel could still count +upon many devoted and intrepid hearts.</p> + +<p>"Friends!" Marcel cried out aloud to the councilmen, "we<a name="page_266" id="page_266"></a> +shall not go to the town-hall, but to the gate of St. Antoine. +I shall tell you more on the way."</p> + +<p>The words were caught by one of the three men who all +during the evening had never left the approaches to Marcel's +house. The spy said to his companions:</p> + +<p>"Let one of you hurry to the Sire of Charny and notify him +that Marcel is going with his men to the gate of St. Antoine. +The other of you run ahead of the bandits and notify Master +Maillart that they are coming. I shall follow them at a distance +and watch their movements. Let each be at his post and +well armed."<a name="page_267" id="page_267"></a></p> + +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_V-d" id="CHAPTER_V-d"></a>CHAPTER V.<br /><br /> +THE GATE OF ST. ANTOINE.</h3> + +<p>The clock had sounded the first hour of morning from the +church in the quarter of St. Antoine. Just before sinking below +the horizon the moon still shed enough light to brighten with a +fringe of silver the topmost battlement of the two high towers +that defend the gate of St. Antoine, towards which Etienne Marcel +was wending his way accompanied by the councilman Philip +Giffart and Jocelyn, and holding two keys in his hands. The +other magistrates and a group of their partisans had posted +themselves, at the request of the provost, in a house near the +ramparts. The profoundest silence reigned near a wide and +dark vaulted passage that led to the gate of the city. A man +leading a horse by the bridle followed Marcel at a little distance.</p> + +<p>"This is the decisive moment," Marcel was saying to his +companions. "If Charles the Wicked has come to our rendezvous, +we then have a chance of success ... if not, I shall mount +that horse and ride to Charenton to deliver myself to the +Regent!"</p> + +<p>Hardly had Marcel finished pronouncing these words when +two sentinels, posted outside the dark passage which he was +about to enter, called out: "Montjoie, the King and Duke!" +and almost at the same moment appeared John Maillart stepping +forward. At the sight of his old friend, whose infamous treason +he was now acquainted with, Marcel stopped indignant and +the following exchange of words took place:</p> + +<p>"Marcel," said the councilman in an imperious voice, "Marcel, +what business brings you here at this hour? You should +now be at the town-hall!"<a name="page_268" id="page_268"></a></p> + +<p>"What business is that of yours," answered Marcel. "I am +here to guard the safety of the town, whose government is in +my hands."</p> + +<p>"By God!" cried Maillart imperceptibly drawing nearer to +Marcel. "By God! You cannot be here for anything good!" +and turning to the two sentinels who stood motionless a few +steps off: "You see it; Marcel holds in his hands the keys of +the gate.... It is to betray us!"</p> + +<p>"You miserable and abominable scamp," cried Marcel, "you +lie in your throat!"</p> + +<p>"No, traitor, it is you who lie!" replied Maillart, and suddenly +raising a short axe that he had held concealed behind his +back, he leaped with one bound at the provost crying: "To me, +my friends! Death to Marcel! Death to him and his partisans! +They are all traitors!" Before Jocelyn or Philip Giffart could +foresee and parry the sudden charge, Maillart dealt so furious +a blow at Marcel's head that he staggered and fell bathed in +blood.</p> + +<p>At Maillart's cry, "To me, my friends!" the passageway, until +then dark, was suddenly illumined by several lanterns that had +been kept under the cloaks of their carriers. By the glimmering +light a large number of men were seen, all armed with pikes, +halbards and cutlasses. Among them were the Sire of Charny, +the knight James of Pontoise and the councilman Pierre Dessessarts. +Hardly had Marcel dropped under the axe of Maillart +than the troop of assassins issued forth from their ambuscade, +and crying: "Montjoie, the King and Duke!" precipitated +themselves upon the provost to despatch him. Marcel, his skull +cleaved in two and his face covered with blood, sought to regain +his feet with the help of Jocelyn and Philip Giffart. These +made heroic efforts to defend the wounded man, but they were +soon thrown down with him and all three riddled with sword +thrusts and axe blows. The other governors and several of their +partisans, who were posted in reserve at a nearby house where +they were to await the issue of Marcel's rendezvous with the<a name="page_269" id="page_269"></a> +King of Navarre, hearing the increasing tumult and cries of +"Montjoie, the King and Duke!" rushed to the gate of St. +Antoine intending to come to the aid of the provost. Their red +and blue head-covers pointed them out to the fury of the murderers. +Their heroic defence was soon overcome and they were +all butchered like their chief. But the rage of Maillart and of +the Sire of Charny was not yet appeased.</p> + +<p>"To death with all the enemies of our Sire, the Regent!" +cried the seigneur. "We know where they are burrowing. Let +us run to their houses. We shall kill them in their beds!"</p> + +<p>"To death!" responded John Maillart brandishing his axe. +"To death with the partisans of Marcel! To death with all the +communiers!"</p> + +<p>"Montjoie, the King and Duke!" repeated in chorus the armed +band. "Death to the red and blue!"</p> + +<p>"Friends!" cried the seigneur of Charny, "the body of the +knight of Conflans, a victim of the popular party, was exposed +in the Student's Dale. Let now the body of Marcel be exposed +in the same place.... Carry him on your shoulders."</p> + +<p>"To-morrow the body shall be placed on a hurdle and dragged +through the mud to the Louvre which our beloved Sire, the +Regent, was forced to leave in sight of Marcel's threats. After +that let the carcass of the felon be thrown into the river—unworthy +sepulchre for a Christian," added John Maillart, and he +said to himself, thinking of his wife: "Petronille will no longer +reproach me with being under the provost; Petronille will no +longer be eaten up with jealousy; Petronille will no longer hear +that Marguerite is the wife of the 'King of Paris' ... and +I shall have a title of nobility."</p> + +<p>The orders of the Sire of Charny and Maillart were carried +out. The corpse of the provost was picked out from among his +dead friends. Four men carried on their shoulders the disfigured +remains of the great citizen, and marching by the light +of torches, the funeral cortége wended its way to the Student's +Dale brandishing their arms and shouting:<a name="page_270" id="page_270"></a></p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align="left">"Death to the partisans of the governors!"</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">"Death to the red and blue!"</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">"Montjoie, the King and Duke!"</td></tr> +</table> + +<h3><a name="EPILOGUE" id="EPILOGUE"></a>EPILOGUE.</h3> + +<p>The hatred of Etienne Marcel's enemies pursued him beyond +the grave. His corpse, taken to the Student's Dale, remained +there the whole day exposed to the insults and the jeers of the +fickle and ingrate mass whose enfranchisement and happiness +he had labored to attain. The day after his death his bloody +and mutilated remains were thrown upon a hurdle, dragged towards +the Seine and hurled into the river in front of the Louvre. +Such was that great man's sepulchre.</p> + +<p>The principal leaders of the popular party, to the number of +sixty, among whom were Simon the Feather-dealer, Cousac and +Pierre Caillart, were executed by orders of John Maillart and the +Sire of Charny, now become joint dictators. These executions +being over, the dictators delegated Simon Maillart, a brother +of the councilman, the councilmen Dessessarts and John Pastorel, +to appear before the Regent and notify the young prince that he +could re-enter his good town of Paris, now submissive and penitent. +The Regent answered the delegation: "That will be +gladly done." Accompanied by a numerous cavalcade, the Regent +left the bridge at Charenton and re-entered the Louvre +where, in the language of the chronicler of the time, "he found +John Maillart, whom he greatly esteemed and loved."</p> + +<p>"As the Regent," the chronicler proceeds, "was crossing a certain +street on his way to the Louvre, a workingman had the daring +to call out aloud: 'By God, Sire, if my advice had been +taken, you would not now be entering here. But nothing will +be done for you.'"</p> + +<p>These and some other instances showed, to the honor of humanity, +that ingratitude, defection and the fickleness of the +masses—the fruits of their ignorance and secular subjection—<a name="page_271" id="page_271"></a>offered +at least pleasing exceptions. The memory of Marcel remained +alive and sacred in the hearts of many loyal to the popular +cause. Despite the triumph of the court party, several conspiracies +were started looking to the overthrow of the throne +and intended to revenge upon the Regent the death of the venerated +Etienne Marcel. The last of these conspiracies was organized +by a rich Paris bourgeois, Martin Pisdoé. He mounted +the scaffold and paid with his head for his religious devotion to +the memory of Marcel.</p> + +<p>Jocelyn the Champion had been left for dead near the gate +of St. Antoine in the midst of a heap of corpses. Informed +the same night by popular rumors of the assassination of the +provost and his partisans, Rufin the Tankard-smasher and Alison +the Huffy hastened to the place of the massacre in order to ascertain +Jocelyn's fate. They found him covered with wounds, +ready to expire, and carried him to a charitable person in the +neighborhood where, thanks to their untiring care he was rescued +from death. Protected by the obscurity of his name, he long +remained hidden in that asylum where a surgeon, a friend of +Rufin, visited him. Only slowly did he regain his strength.</p> + +<p>Marguerite learned of her husband's death from emissaries +sent by John Maillart, who came that same night to arrest her +at her house. Taken to prison, the unfortunate woman vainly +implored permission to bury Marcel with her own hands. The +supreme consolation was denied her, and she was later made +acquainted with the ignominies inflicted on her husband's corpse. +She soon died in captivity. The property of Etienne Marcel +was confiscated for the benefit of the Regent.</p> + +<p>Alison, always compassionate, offered Denise, who now found +herself helpless and without means, to share with her the chamber +she occupied at her inn. Often the two called to see Jocelyn +the Champion in his secret retreat. Among other wounds an +axe-stroke deprived him forever of the use of his right arm. +When his other wounds were completely healed, he married<a name="page_272" id="page_272"></a> +Denise; on the same day Dame Alison married Rufin the +Tankard-Smasher.</p> + +<p>Jocelyn had inherited a little patrimony, thanks to which he +could almost wholly cover the indispensible needs of himself and +wife, a fortunate circumstance seeing that the weakness consequent +upon his wounds did not allow him to pursue his profession +of champion. The only relative left to Denise lived near +the frontier of Lorraine in the town of Vaucouleurs. Jocelyn +decided to move hither. Despite the little notice he had drawn +upon himself during the late revolt, it would have been imprudent +on his part to prolong his stay in Paris after his recovery, +seeing that the re-action of the court party was implacable. +Jocelyn sold his patrimony, took, not without deep regret, leave +from Rufin the Tankard-smasher and Alison, and escaping a +hundred dangers from the bands of English soldiers and marauders +who then ravaged Gaul, he reached the town of Vaucouleurs +with Denise and settled there.</p> + +<p class="c">THE END.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> In the judicial combats of the Middle Ages, it was allowed to women, +children and old men, except in cases of high treason or of parricide, to +appear in the lists by a representative. Such a hired combatant was +called a champion.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> Jack Drudge.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> "Poignez villain, il vous oindra; oignez villain, il vous poindra."</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> The three lilies, the device of French royalty.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> The Lord's Prayer, called "pater" from the first word, +"pater" (father) in the Latin prayer.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> A prayer or invocation to Mary, so named from the first +word, "Ave, Maria," (Hail to you, Mary), in the Latin prayer.</p></div> + +</div> +<hr class="full" /> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Iron Trevet or Jocelyn the Champion, by +Eugène Sue + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE IRON TREVET *** + +***** This file should be named 34390-h.htm or 34390-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/4/3/9/34390/ + +Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images available at The Internet Archive) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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