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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:26:00 -0700 |
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diff --git a/5702-h/5702-h.htm b/5702-h/5702-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a1645eb --- /dev/null +++ b/5702-h/5702-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,8048 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!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"> + <head> + <title> + Masters of the Guild, by L. Lamprey + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + .side { float: right; font-size: 75%; width: 25%; padding-left: 0.8em; + border-left: dashed thin; margin-left: 0.8em; text-align: left; + text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; + font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;} + pre { font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 100%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Masters of the Guild, by L. Lamprey + +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: Masters of the Guild + +Author: L. Lamprey + + +Release Date: May, 2004 [EBook #5702] +This file was first posted on August 12, 2002 +Last Updated: March 15, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MASTERS OF THE GUILD *** + + + + +Text file produced by Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team + +HTML file produced by David Widger + + + + +</pre> + + <div style="height: 8em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + MASTERS OF THE GUILD + </h1> + <h2> + By L. Lamprey + </h2> + <h4> + Author of “In the Days of the Guild” + </h4> + <h5> + Illustrated by Florence Choate and Elizabeth Curtis <br /> <br /> New York + <br /> 1920 + </h5> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + <b>CONTENTS</b> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> DEDICATION </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> I. — PEIROL OF THE PIGEONS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> II. — A TOURNAMENT IN THE CLOUDS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> III. — THE PUPPET PLAYERS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> IV. — PADRAIG OF THE SCRIPTORIUM </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> V. — THE TAPESTRY CHAMBER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> VI. — THE FAIRIES' WELL </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> VII. — THE WOLVES OF OSSORY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> VIII. — THE ROAD OF THE WILD SWAN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> IX. — THE SWORD OF DAMASCUS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> X. — FOOLS' GOLD </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> XI. — ARCHIATER'S DAUGHTER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> XII. — COLD HARBOR </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> XIII. — THE WISDOM OF THE GALLEYS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0016"> XIV. — SOLOMON'S SEAL </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0017"> XV. — BLACK MAGIC IN THE TEMPLE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0018"> XVI. — THE END OF A PILGRIMAGE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_NOTE"> NOTES </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <p> + LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS (Not available in this edition) + </p> + <p> + “The boy gave a low call and a soft rush of wings was heard” Frontispiece + </p> + <p> + “'You have your choice—to remain here quietly, alive, or to remain + permanently, dead'” + </p> + <p> + “'How now, Master Stephen! What foolery is this?'” + </p> + <p> + “It was the first time Padraig had seen anyone write” + </p> + <p> + “'Every inch of this linen will be covered with embroidery'” (in colors) + </p> + <p> + “''Tis the brat of a scatter-brained woman'” + </p> + <p> + “Directly in front sounded the unmistakable snarl of a wolf” + </p> + <p> + “An immense boar stumbled out and charged at Eleanor's horse” + </p> + <p> + “'Belike he got it where he's been—in the Holy Land'” (in colors) + </p> + <p> + “'I know all about your search for treasure'” + </p> + <p> + “'He called me his mouse and if I kept still I had cheese for my dinner'” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing would do but that they all should go immediately to see what had + come to light” + </p> + <p> + “Andrea was at work upon the carving of the doorway” + </p> + <p> + “A siffle of indrawn breath was heard in the crowd as he carried it to the + fire” (in colors) + </p> + <p> + “There was shouting and laughter in the courtyard” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + DEDICATION + </h2> + <h3> + TO DOROTHY + </h3> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + O little girl who used to be, + Come down the Old World road with me, + And watch the galleons leaping home + Deep-laden, through the rainbow foam, + And the far-glimmering lances reel + Where clashes battle-axe on steel, + When the long shouts of triumph ring + Around the banner of the King! + + To elfin harps those minstrels rime + Who live in Once-upon-a-Time! + + In that far land of Used-to-Be, + Strange folk were known to you and me,— + Mowgh and Puck, and all their kin, + Launcelot, and Huckleberry Finn, + Wise Talleyrand, brave Ivanhoe, + Juliet, and Lear, and Prospero, + Alleyne and his White Company, + And trooping folk of Faerie! + + People of every race and clime + Are found in Once-upon-a-Time! + + And in those days that used to be + The gypsy wind that raced the sea + Came singing of enchanted lands, + Of sapphire waves on golden sands, + Of wind-borne fleets that race the swallow, + Of Squirrel-fairy in her hollow, + Of brooklets full of scattered stars, + And odorous herbs by pasture-bars + + Where to the cow-bells' tinkling chime + Come dreams of Once-upon-a-Time! + + O little girl who used to be, + The days are long in Faerie,— + Their garnered sunshine's wealth of gold + No royal treasure-vault may hold. + And now, as if our earth possessed + Alchemy's fabled Alkahest, + Our harbors blaze with jewelled light, + Our air-ships wing their circling flight, + + And we ourselves are in the rime + That sings of Once-upon-a-Time! + </pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I. — PEIROL OF THE PIGEONS + </h2> + <p> + It was a great day in Count Thibaut's castle. Every one knew that, down to + the newest smallest scullery-maid. The Count had come home from England + with Lady Philippa, his daughter, and there would be feasting and song and + laughter for days and days and days. + </p> + <p> + Ranulph the troubadour, who had arrived in their company, was glad of a + quiet hour in the garden before supper was served. He knew that he would + have to sing that evening, and he wished to go over the melodies he had in + mind, for he might on the spur of the moment compose new words to them. In + fact a song in honor of his hostess was already in his thoughts. The very + birds of the air seemed to welcome her. The warm southern winds were full + of their warbling—beccafico, loriot, merle, citronelle, woodlark, + nightingale,—every tree, copse and tuft of grass held a tiny + minstrel. When the great gate opened to a fanfare of trumpets, from the + castle walls there came the murmur of innumerable doves. A castle had its + dove-cote as it had its poultry-yard or rabbit-warren, but the birds were + not always so fearless or so many. + </p> + <p> + The song was nearly finished when the singer became aware that some one + else was in the garden. A small boy, with serious dark eyes and a white + pigeon in his arms, stood close by. Ranulph smiled a persuasive smile + which few children could resist. + </p> + <p> + “And who are you, my lad?” + </p> + <p> + “Peirol, the gooseherd's boy,” the youngster replied composedly. “You're + none of the family, are you?” + </p> + <p> + “Only a jongleur. You have a great many pigeons here.” + </p> + <p> + “That's why I came in when I heard you playing. Does she—Lady + Philippa—like pigeons?” + </p> + <p> + “I think she does. In fact I know she does. Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Grandfather said she would not care how many pigeons were killed to make + pies. Nobody really loves them much, but me. They're fond of me too.” + </p> + <p> + The boy gave a low call and a soft rush of wings was heard in every + direction. Pigeons flew from tree-top, tower, parapet and gable, alighting + on his head and arms until he looked like a little pigeon-tree in full + bloom. + </p> + <p> + “Some of them are voyageurs,” he said, strewing salted pease for the + strutting, cooing, softly crowding birds. “I'm training them every day. + Some day I shall know more about pigeons than any one else in the world.” + </p> + <p> + Ranulph had some ado not to smile; the speaker was so small and the tone + so assured. “Perhaps you will,” he said. “Are they as tame with others as + they are with you?” “Some others,” answered Peirol gravely. “People who + are patient and know how to keep still. They like you.” + </p> + <p> + A slaty-blue pigeon was already pecking at Ranulph's pointed scarlet shoe + for a grain lodged there. The troubadour bent down, held out his hand, and + the bird walked into it. He had played with birds often enough in his + vagabond early years to know their feelings. But now a wave of merry + voices broke upon the garden paths. + </p> + <p> + “Peirol,” he said, “I will see you again. I have a little plan for you and + the pigeons which will, I think, give pleasure to Lady Philippa.” + </p> + <p> + One of the entertainments arranged to take place was a feast out of doors, + in a woodland glade especially suited to it. Ranulph's inspiration had to + do with this. + </p> + <p> + Among the guests the only stranger was Sir Gualtier (or Walter) Giffard, + younger son of a Norman family. One of his ancestors had gone to England + with Duke William a hundred years before, but the family had not been on + good terms with later kings and its fortunes had somewhat fallen. Every + one, however, spoke with respect of this knight and his elder brother, Sir + Stephen, and they had been of service to Count Thibaut during his stay in + England. This Giffard had never been so far south before, and he seemed to + feel that he had got into some sort of enchanted realm. He was more + soldier than courtier, but his eyes said a great deal. The luxurious + abundance of a Provencal castle, the smooth ease of the serving, the wit + and gaiety of the people, all were new to him. He had attended state + banquets, but they were as unlike the entertainment here provided as was + the stern simplicity of his boyhood home in Normandy, or the + rough-and-tumble camp life of recent years. + </p> + <p> + The out-of-door dinner was not a hap-hazard picnic, but neither was it in + the least stiff or formal. The servants went by a short cut across the + meadow to prepare the tables, while knights and ladies followed the more + leisurely path along the river bank. It was a walk through fairyland. The + very waters were in a holiday mood. The current strayed from one side to + the other, leaving clear still pools and enticing little backwaters, and + singing past the elfin islets and huge overshadowing trees, like a gleeful + spirit. + </p> + <p> + Lady Philippa had never looked more lovely. As the party was not to be + seen on a public road, veils and wimples were discarded, and her bright + brown hair, braided in two long braids, was crowned only by a circlet of + gold set with pearls and emeralds. The trailing robes worn at formal + dinners would also be out of place, and she wore a bliaut or outer robe of + her favorite rose-colored silk, a wide border of gold embroidery giving it + weight enough to make it hang in graceful lines. The sleeves were loose + and long, the ends almost touching the hem of the gown. Under this was a + violet silk robe of heavier material with bands of ermine at the neck and + on the small close sleeves. Under this again the embroidered edges of a + fine white linen robe could be seen at throat and wrists. The girdle was + of braided violet silk, the ends weighted with amethyst and emerald + ornaments. A white mantle of silk and wool, trimmed with fur of the black + squirrel, and fastened under the chin with a gold button, and an + embroidered alms-purse, completed the costume. The other ladies of the + party were attired as carefully, and the dress of the men was as rich and + brilliant as that of the women. They passed through the wavering light and + shadow of the woodlands like a covey of bright-plumaged birds. + </p> + <p> + In the level open space where the feast was spread the servants had placed + trestles, over which long boards were fitted. Benches covered with silken + cushions served as seats. The cloth was of linen dyed scarlet in the rare + Montpellier dye, and over it was spread another of white linen, + embroidered in open-work squares. At each end of the table was a large + silver dish, one containing a meat-pie, the other a pie made of the meat + of various fowls with savory seasoning. On silver plates were slices of + cold chicken and meat. Glass trays contained salad, lettuces, radishes and + olives. The salt, pepper and spices were in silver and gold dishes of + fanciful shapes. Here and there were crystal vases of freshly gathered + roses and violets. On the corners of the table were trenchers of white + bread—wastel, cocket, manchet, of fine wheaten flour,—and + brown bread of barley, millet and rye. For dessert there were the spicy + apples of Auvergne, Spanish oranges, raisins, figs, little sweet cakes, + wine white and red, and nuts in a great carved brass dish of the finest + Saracen work, with carved wood nut-crackers. Ewers and basins of decorated + brass, for washing the hands after the meal, were ready. Eastern carpets + and cushions, placed upon a bank under the trees, would afford a place + where the company, after dining, might linger for hours, enjoying the gay + give-and-take of conversation, the songs of artists who knew their art, + and the constant musical undertone of winds, birds and waters. The + surprise which Ranulph had planned was designed for the moment when the + guests began to dally with nuts and wine, reluctant to leave the table. + Some one called upon the troubadour to sing. He had counted upon this. + Rising, he bowed to the Count and his daughter, and began: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “In the month of Arcady + Green the summer meadows be,— + When the dawn with fingers light + Lifts the curtains of the night, + And from tented crimson skies + Glorious doth the sun arise,— + Who are these who give him greeting, + On swift wings approaching, fleeting,— + Who but birds whose carols bring + Homage to their gracious King! + “Lo! the Queen of Arcady + From the land of Faery + Gladdens our adoring eyes, + Fair and gentle, sweet and wise, + Her companions here on earth + Love and Loyalty and Mirth! + Who, the joyous tidings hearing, + Fly to greet her, now appearing? + Aphrodite's pigeons fleet,— + See, they gather at her feet.” + </pre> + <p> + No one had heard a low clear call from the boughs of the tree overhead, or + seen the figure of a small boy in a fantastic tunic of goatskins, slipping + down the tree-trunk near Ranulph. As the company rose from the table the + troubadour moved away a little, still thrumming his refrain, and in that + moment there was a whir of sudden wings and the air was dark with pigeons. + As the birds alighted Lady Philippa was surrounded by the pretty + creatures, and in a graceful little speech Ranulph presented to her Peirol + as a Faun, the Master of the Pigeons, who had brought them to do homage to + their sovereign lady. + </p> + <p> + It was just the sort of informal pageant to delight the heart of Provence. + No more dainty and captivating interlude had been seen at a festival. + </p> + <p> + There was a great deal of wonderment about the way in which the scene had + been arranged, but it was really quite simple. According to the usual + fashion the guests were seated on only one side of the table, the other + side being left free for the servants to present the various dishes. The + company faced the river, and the trees that canopied the table were behind + them. Nothing, therefore, hindered Peirol from luring his pigeons to a + point within hearing of his voice, and concealing himself in the thick + leafage until Ranulph gave the signal for them to be brought upon the + stage. Most of the afternoon was spent in watching and discussing Peirol + and the pigeons. + </p> + <p> + “A pigeon has certain advantages,” observed Gualtier Giffard, as he and + the troubadour, sitting a little way from the others, watched the carriers + rise and circle in the air. “He need only rise high enough to see his + goal,—and fly there.” + </p> + <p> + “Pity but a man might do the same,” said Ranulph lightly. The eyes of the + two young men met for an instant in unspoken understanding. Under some + conditions they might have felt themselves rivals. But neither the + penniless younger son of a Norman house, nor a landless troubadour of + Avignon, had much hope of meeting Count Thibaut's views for his only + daughter. + </p> + <p> + “It would be rather absurd,” Ranulph went on, stroking the feathers of the + little dun pigeon Rien-du-Tout, “for a bird to outdo a man. Perhaps some + day we shall even sail the air as now we sail the seas. Picture to + yourself a winged galleon with yourself at the helm—about to + discover a world beyond the sunset. It is all in having faith, I tell you. + Unbelief is the dragon of the ancient fables.” + </p> + <p> + The Norman smiled rather sadly. “Meanwhile,” he said, “having no flying + ships and no new crusades to prove our mettle, we spend ourselves on such + errands as we have, or beat the air vainly—like the pigeons. Were it + not that a man owes loyalty to his house and to his King I would enlist + under the piebald banner of the Templars. But my brother and I have set + ourselves to win back the place that our fathers lost, and until that is + done I have no errand with dragons.” + </p> + <p> + Ranulph nodded, thoughtfully. “The King would be glad of more such + service,” he said. “Good fortune be with you!” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + BELLEROPHON + + Hail, Poet—and farewell! Our day is past, + Yet may we hear new songs before we die, + The chanteys of the mightiest and the last,— + The squadrons of the sky. + + We knew the rhythm of myriad marching feet, + Gray tossing seas that rocked the wind-whipped sail, + The drumming hoofs of horses, and the beat + Of stern hearts clad in mail. + + But you—earth-fettered we shall watch your wings + Topping the mountains, battling winds,—to dare + Challenge the lammergeyer where she swings + Down the long lanes of air. + + And when you take the skylark for your guide, + And soar straight up to sun-drenched shores of Time, + Immortal singers there shall, eager-eyed, + Await your new-born rhyme. + + Their songs are charm-songs, a divine caress, + Or torrents that no power of man could tame, + Or time-hushed gardens of grave loveliness, + But yours,—a leaping flame! + + Hail, Poet! Yours the Dream Interpreted, + Earth's haunting fairy-tale since life began,— + The Dragon of Unfaith, his magic dead, + Slain by the Flying Man! +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. — A TOURNAMENT IN THE CLOUDS + </h2> + <p> + Alazais de Montfaucon was to be married, and had chosen her dearest friend + Philippa to be maid of honor. None of her friends except Philippa had seen + the bridegroom; he was an English knight, Hugh l'Estrange. He had lands on + the Welsh marches, and the charming Alazais was to be carried off by him, + to live among savages. This, at least, was the impression of Beatriz + d'Acunha and Catalina d'Anduze, who were also to be bridesmaids. Philippa, + having lived in England, looked at the matter less dolefully. Still, when + all was said, it was an immense change for Alazais, and she herself + declared that if any one but Hugh had proposed it she would not think of + such a thing. + </p> + <p> + “We must provide you with a flock of these voyageur pigeons,” said Savaric + de Marsan. “Then, when you are shut up in your stronghold with the Welsh + on one side and Saxon outlaws on the other, you can appeal to your friends + for help.” + </p> + <p> + Alazais laughed her pretty rippling laugh. + </p> + <p> + “The fortress is not yet built,” she said with a toss of her golden head. + “We are not going to live among the heathen.” + </p> + <p> + “You men!” pouted Beatriz. “You are always thinking of battles and sieges, + wars and jousting. Perhaps you would like a tournament of pigeons!” + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” queried Savaric undisturbed. “It would be highly amusing.” + </p> + <p> + “I lay my wager on Blanchette here,” said Peire d'Acunha. “She is as + graceful as a lady. She shows her breeding.” + </p> + <p> + “Endurance, my friend, is what counts in a carrier,” said Bertrand + d'Aiguerra. “Pere Azuli yonder will forget the miles behind him—as + you forget your debts.” + </p> + <p> + “You are both wrong,” said Savaric. “It is spirit that wins. Little Sieur + Rien-du-Tout, the pigeon without a pedigree, will make fools of all of + you.” + </p> + <p> + The pigeon-tournament was actually planned, with much laughter and + light-hearted nonsense. It was to take place at Montfaucon during the week + of the wedding. Each knight should adorn his bird with his lady's colors, + and the little feathered messengers were to carry love-letters written in + verse. Afterward, the pigeons were all to be presented to Lady Alazais for + her dovecote in the barbarous land to which she was exiled. + </p> + <p> + Pigeons were very much the fashion for a time. Dainty demoiselles preened + and paced on the short sweet turf, petting and feeding the birds, and + looking rather like pigeons themselves. But no one became really intimate + with the carriers except Ranulph the troubadour, Lady Philippa, and Sir + Gualtier Giffard, who loved them for her sake. + </p> + <p> + The guests at the castle were all going to the wedding except Ranulph and + the Norman knight. Ranulph expected to accompany King Henry to England, + and Gualtier Giffard had to take a report from Count Thibaut to friends in + Normandy, touching certain matters of state. + </p> + <p> + Then the Count was invited to a hastily arranged banquet in a town some + leagues away, where various important persons were to be guests, among + them Henry Plantagenet himself. The way to Montfaucon lying in the same + direction, it was decided that Alazais and her bridesmaids should return + to her home under escort of the Count and his friends. When the banquet + was over and the conference between Henry and his vassals in Guienne was + concluded, the wedding guests would assemble at Montfaucon. + </p> + <p> + Gossip about the banquet and the conference flew like tennis-balls among + the guests. It was said that one of the matters discussed would be the + claim of the deposed King of Leinster, Dermot MacMurragh, who was even now + at the heels of the English King, trying to interest him in a possible + Norman invasion of Ireland. + </p> + <p> + “I have seen this Dermot,” said de Marsan, “and a choice group of + cut-throats he had collected about him. Garin de Biterres was one of them, + by the way.” + </p> + <p> + “He was always over-fond of laying wagers,” yawned d'Acunha. “He is + probably betting his head on this Irish wild-goose chase.” + </p> + <p> + “I will burn a candle,” said Bertrand d'Aiguerra, “to any god of luck who + will send that caitiff where he gets himself killed. If he were not one of + us he would not be such a nuisance. His mercenaries will be the ruin of + us. The people were touchy enough before, but now they begin to think we + are all birds of the same black feather.” + </p> + <p> + “He is only half Auvergnais,” objected Savaric. “The other half is + Sicilian, I believe. A man cannot be half a gentleman, can he? I will + admit that Biterres desires to live like a gentleman,—according to + his own ideas of one. He has not been the same man since he was taken by + the Moors. He was never honest, but that seemed to warp his nature as well + as his body. He learned things that it does no man any good to know.” + </p> + <p> + “Let us hope that Saint Patrick will dispose of him for the good of his + Irish,” remarked Enrique de Montfaucon. “They say that the Plantagenet + will do no more than give letters patent to any Norman adventurer who + takes up Dermot's cause. I think he has his hands full with his own sons.” + </p> + <p> + Ranulph listened to this conversation with interest. The ill-famed leader + of mercenaries had aspired to the hand of Lady Philippa while she was yet + a child—and had been brusquely dismissed by her father. He lived now + by hiring himself and his troops to any ruler who had a war on hand and + would pay his price. In peaceful intervals they lived as they could. + </p> + <p> + The Count was talking to Gualtier Giffard about the Irish venture. + </p> + <p> + “If the Normans rule Ireland,” he observed, “your fortunes may improve. A + grant of land there might be worth your while.” + </p> + <p> + The young knight met the Count's searching glance fearlessly. “I would not + take it,” he answered. “Dermot lost his realm by his own fault. There is + no honor in serving him.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” said the Count with a quizzical lift of the eyebrow, “in that case + you are very right.” + </p> + <p> + Ranulph often acted as an unofficial unrecognized envoy in state matters, + and it did not surprise him when he received a message from King Henry to + the effect that he was to meet the monarch at Montfaucon after the + conference. Peirol, who knew every mile of the country, was to take the + pigeons thither for the tournament and be Ranulph's guide. It was + altogether a very pleasant prospect for perfect summer weather. + </p> + <p> + By brisk riding the troubadour and his little companion reached Montfaucon + late in the afternoon of the day following the departure of the Count's + guests. The porter, a surly looking fellow, hesitated about admitting + them, and before opening the wicket gate consulted some one within. The + castle seemed to be in a somewhat disorderly state. Soldiers were playing + dice by the gateway, and horses were stamping and feeding in the outer + bailey. Peirol was evidently taken for the troubadour's servant, and an + unkempt lad ushered them into a small room with a barred window, in one of + the older towers. Ranulph was not wont to think of his own dignity, but + this lack of courtesy did a little surprise him. Almost at once the youth + poked his head in, without knocking, to say that the lord of the castle + would see him in the great hall. + </p> + <p> + More mystified than before, Ranulph obeyed the summons, for it amounted to + that. In the master's chair sat a man of about thirty, dark-skinned, with + dense black hair and eyes, one leg somewhat malformed, the knee being + bowed and the foot turned slightly inward. He looked the troubadour over + with a sarcastic smile. Ranulph was still in riding-dress, and might have + been mistaken for a joglar or wandering minstrel, calling himself by the + more dignified title of troubadour or trouvere. + </p> + <p> + “I think,” began the knight in a harsh drawl, “that one can often do no + better than to tell the truth, is it not so? I am the lord of this castle—for + the present. Of course I could not refuse you admittance, or you might go + off and spread inconvenient rumors. I must ask you therefore to accept our + hospitality unquestioning, like a courteous guest. We cannot allow you to + depart until we ourselves are gone. You have your choice—to remain + here quietly, alive, or to remain permanently, dead. + </p> + <p> + “Naturally you will not communicate with any ladies whom you may see, but + if you can afford them some entertainment you shall be paid. They have had + but a dull time thus far, I fear, and I would not have them think us + barbarians, soldiers of fortune though we are. When I am through with this + castle I shall leave it as I found it, except for the temporary detention + of the inmates in various rooms, where I suppose they will stay until some + one finds them. If anybody is found dead it will be his own fault. Now, + which horn of the dilemma is your choice—troubadour?” + </p> + <p> + During this extraordinary speech Ranulph had done some rapid thinking. + From the man's appearance he believed him to be Garin de Biterres. The + castle had evidently been taken by surprise after the Count's party had + escorted the maidens thither and ridden away. Perhaps the marauders had + been lurking somewhere about awaiting the opportunity. They must know that + they could not hold it after the friends of the rightful lord knew what + had been done, and their leader was too cool-headed a man to have + attempted so bold a raid without some important reason. The abduction of + four young girls, two of whom at least were heiresses, might seem such a + reason to such a man. Evidently he did not suspect Ranulph's character as + a man of some reputation and the confidential messenger of the King of + England. This was a piece of luck. The chance of his being useful to the + captives was all the better. + </p> + <p> + With the elaborate meekness proper to his supposed low station he + answered, “You leave me no choice, my lord. To resist your will would be + suicide, and that is a mortal sin.” + </p> + <p> + The knight grinned like a sour-tempered dog. “Take care,” he said, “that + you change not your very praise-worthy views. Have you any little + diversion which may enliven a tedious hour at supper-time?” + </p> + <p> + Ranulph's quick mind had been turning over plans. He thanked a hard Fate + that his early experience in camps, markets, inn-yards and fairs had been + so thorough and so varied. In those days he had been what Biterres now + supposed him—one of those vagabond singers who sang popular songs + and often did tricks of jugglery, or danced, or gave acrobatic + exhibitions, wherever they found an audience. The panier in which the + pigeons drowsed was probably taken for a collection of costumes and + properties. + </p> + <p> + The pigeons could not get through the barred window of his room. If they + were let loose in the courtyard and recognized as carriers, a bowman could + easily bring them down. But now he saw a way to elude suspicion. + </p> + <p> + “I have a trick,” he ventured humbly, “which is most amusing, but it + requires a large shell or cofyn of pastry. When this pie is cut, live + birds fly out. But perhaps it would not be convenient to have your + lordship's cook troubled with this?” + </p> + <p> + Biterres made an impatient gesture. “Child's play—but it will serve. + The cook shall come for your orders. Have it ready before the drinking + begins or the men will not know whether you have larks or peacocks in the + pie.” + </p> + <p> + Ranulph bowed very low and left the hall. + </p> + <p> + “Peirol,” he said when he re-entered the cell-like room, “we are prisoners + to a caitiff knight who has taken this castle and undoubtedly holds your + mistress and her friends also captive. I think he intends to carry off the + ladies, and I am not sure what will happen to the rest of us. If we can + get word to Count Thibaut's castle we may spoil the fellow's game. No one + must suspect, of course, that we have carriers with us. He takes us for + strolling mountebanks and desires us to amuse the company at supper. Now, + I have a plan.” + </p> + <p> + He was already writing the letters to be sent by the winged couriers, + putting all his hard-won skill with words into the task of getting all the + information possible into a little space. If the rescuing party did not + come before Biterres took his prisoners away—and it was hardly to be + hoped that they could—at least they should have a fair start in + pursuit of him and evidence enough to punish him, if they received even + one of these missives. + </p> + <p> + Peirol heard the scheme with wide-eyed gravity. At the end he nodded. + </p> + <p> + “That fellow asked what we had here,” he said pointing to the panier, “and + I told him when the pie was cut he would see.” + </p> + <p> + “Good!” laughed the troubadour. “That was a lucky answer, Peirol. And here + comes the cook to make the pie.” + </p> + <p> + The cook, a stout beady-eyed little man, eyed the two somewhat sulkily, + but went away grinning over Ranulph's jokes and fingering Ranulph's + generous fee. Furthermore he vouchsafed the information that the leader of + the mercenaries intended to leave the castle next day for the nearest + seaport, where he and his men would take a ship for Ireland. Lady Philippa + was destined to be the bride of Biterres himself; Alazais was to marry the + second in command, Griffon de Malemort. The other two demoiselles were to + be taken to Ireland, where the King would doubtless find them husbands. If + they would not agree to this they were to be sold to a Moslem slave-dealer + whose galley was somewhere about. The servants and defenders of the castle + had been herded into various rooms and locked up. The cook himself did not + mind a little recklessness on the part of military adventurers such as + these routiers, but he felt that this sort of thing was perilous. He + intended to give them the slip at the first opportunity, and they could + cook their own soup if they liked. + </p> + <p> + The plot, infamous as it was, had unfortunately nothing impossible about + it. Four unprotected girls could be taken in guarded litters to the + sea-coast and shipped to Ireland or to Cadiz, Valencia, Alexandria or + Morocco with no difficulty whatever unless some one got wind of the fact. + As for the Irish King, a man who had the sort of record he had, was not + likely to quibble over the means used by Biterres in getting himself a + bride. And before the captives within the castle could reach even the + nearest of their friends and bring help, the whole troop would have left + the country. + </p> + <p> + Through the huge carved open-work screen at the end of the hall, after + supper was served, Ranulph had a view of the scene within. Biterres, with + the fantastic formality it pleased him to use, had insisted on the + attendance of his prisoners at supper, and the meal was served with all + due ceremony. Biterres and Malemort appeared to be acting with studied + politeness. The maidens were behaving with the dignity and self-possession + which became daughters of soldiers, although they were pale and + woe-begone. The troopers at the lower table were noisy and rude enough, + and Ranulph suspected that his entertainment had been ordered partly to + keep them from getting out of hand with drinking and rioting. He had + contrived a clown's costume from some of his belongings, aided by a little + flour and paint, and a bauble made of a toasting fork stuck through an + apple. When he pranced into the hall the soldiers yelled with surprise and + delight. Behind him at a discreet distance came a small boy, also attired + in antic fashion, carrying carefully in both hands a huge pie. The cook + was peeping through the screen to see what was going to happen. + </p> + <p> + Neither Ranulph nor Peirol gave so much as a glance at the captives, who + were too much amazed to say anything at first, and quickly saw the danger + of any betraying comment. The troubadour marched up to Biterres, asked + permission to sing, and began a doggerel ballad about one Sir Orpheus and + his magic harp. The harp, as the song explained, had the power of luring + pigeons, rabbits, wild geese, lambs, sucking-pigs and even fish from the + stewponds, into its owner's dinner-pot, so that Orpheus never lacked for + good living and became very fat. The bouillabaisse of Marseilles, the + Norman ragout of eels, the roast goose of Arles, the pigs' feet of Spain, + the partridge pasty of Periguex,—all the luscious dishes of a land + of good eating were described in a way that made these old campaigners + howl with reminiscent joy. The rollicking, impudent tune, the allusions to + camp customs more notorious than honest, went straight to the heart of the + blackguard audience, and half the voices in the room promptly joined the + chorus. Eurydice, the singer went on, was an excellent cook, so renowned + that the prince of the lower regions abducted her, and Orpheus was allowed + to regain possession of her only on the solemn condition that she should + make a pie for that sovereign every twelvemonth. This pie, according to + the final verse of the song, would now be cut, so that the company could + see exactly what a Plutonian banquet was like. + </p> + <p> + The troubadour borrowed a dagger from a man-at-arms, made one or two + slashes at the ornate crust of the pie—and out flew four live + pigeons. + </p> + <p> + Then Peirol gave his birdlike call, and eluding the hands raised to catch + them the pigeons swooped down to him. Ranulph began to dance, playing his + lute at the same time, and the boy followed, with the doves flying above + him just out of reach. In saucy improvised couplets the troubadour called + upon one and another to join the dancing, until before any one quite knew + what was happening, the company in the lower hall was drawn into a winding + lengthening line following the leaders in a sort of farandole. The hall + was not large enough for this to go on indefinitely, and Ranulph suddenly + bolted into the outer air, where the shouting, laughing crowd paused for + breath—and the pigeons went soaring into the sky. + </p> + <p> + The party from the table on the dais came out to look on, and Garin de + Biterres, as he saw the mounting birds, grew suspicious. “Here, Jean! + Michaud!” he said sharply. “Loose the hunting hawks!” + </p> + <p> + Ranulph's heart missed a beat, but he dared not betray himself by a + tremor. Hawks could be trained to pursue carriers, but the doves had a + fair start and might be able to get away. The two birds of prey which the + men brought were moreover not the type of hawk used especially to hunt + pigeons, but young falcons or tercels. The men bungled in handling them; + they evidently belonged to the castle, not to the troop. When they finally + rose into the air, Pere Azuli, the veteran blue pigeon, and Rien-du-Tout, + the little dun-colored stray Peirol had trained, were almost out of sight. + The luckless Blanchette was lagging, and despite her frantic attempts to + escape her enemy she was soon struggling in the falcon's grip. Clair de la + Lune, the other white pigeon, seemed about to meet the same fate when + something unexpected happened. + </p> + <p> + Two wild hawks, beating up from the south, spied the pigeons, and pounced + one upon the tercel with the dove in his talons, the other upon Clair de + la Lune. In the scrimmage which followed Blanchette's little body fell + into the river, and the strange hawk gave chase to Pere Azuli, while her + mate began to devour Clair de la Lune at his leisure. The ruffled and + bewildered tercels were whistled back, and neither Garin de Biterres nor + his prisoners could be certain in the gathering twilight whether any of + the pigeons had escaped their pursuers. + </p> + <p> + The pigeon-chase had taken the attention of de Biterres and his men so + completely for a few minutes that Ranulph, without seeming to do so, came + near to Lady Philippa. A tiny roll of paper encased in a withered leaf + dropped from his fingers on the furred edge of her mantle. She bent to + shake off the leaf and her hand closed quietly over the letter. When + Ranulph had gone to sing ballads of the camp among the troopers, and the + young girls had been ceremoniously escorted to their guarded room, she + unrolled and read the missive. It was not long. “Dear and Honored Lady—I + pray you pardon the fooleries of the night, since in this way only could I + hope to escape the surveillance of these miscreants and do you service. + The pigeons we are loosing bear messages telling of your doleful plight, + and I doubt not that when it becomes known, help will come to you. Sir + Gualtier Giffard is, as you know, at your father's castle awaiting + messages from him, and we have thus every reason to hope that there will + be no mishap. For the rest, sweet lady, I rejoice that I am within these + walls, because you are here, and yet would I gladly go to the ends of the + earth if so I might hasten your deliverance. + </p> + <p> + “Ever your servant, + </p> + <p> + “RANULPH D'AVIGNON.” + </p> + <p> + The loyal and generous words were like balm upon wounds. The last speech + that Garin de Biterres had made to her that night conveyed a terrifying + possibility. + </p> + <p> + “Lady Philippa,” his cold harsh voice had fallen upon her ears like the + grating of a key in a prison door, “your father once refused me your hand. + I hope to find you more gracious, or at least more compliant. My captain, + Malemort, stands ready to wed the Lady Alazais as I would wed you, at high + noon to-morrow. The fate of the others depends upon you. As good Christian + maidens ye should all prefer Christian marriage to slavery among the + Moslems,—but gold in the purse is better than an unwilling bride.” + </p> + <p> + It was not long after sunset when old Grimaud, Count Thibaut's gooseherd, + was aroused from a light sleep by a fluttering at his window. He found + huddled on the sill a small dun pigeon under whose wing nestled a roll of + writing. According to instructions, he took it at once to Sir Gualtier + Giffard, who found therein Ranulph's statement of the tragedy impending at + Montfaucon. It was like the crater of a volcano suddenly opened in what + had seemed a bright and fertile valley. On the very borders of this + paradise of luxury and delight lay a world where a thing like this was + possible. He strode hastily into the hall, told the news to the old + knight, a cousin of Count Thibaut's, who had charge of the castle for the + time, and left him to order out the garrison. Five minutes later he was + riding at a breakneck pace on his own fleet horse, to rouse the men who + had so short a time since been guests of the Count, to the rescue of his + daughter and her companions. + </p> + <p> + Thus it came to pass that early next morning a sentinel at Montfaucon + hurried from his watch-tower to make report to Malemort, and Malemort lost + no time in reporting to his chief. Peering from an upper window they could + see a strong force under the banner of Count Thibaut, flanked by the + devices of half Auvergne, coming at a sharp trot toward the castle. There + was neither delay nor discussion. Garin de Biterres had not found life + altogether pleasant, but he had no wish to end it with a rope around his + neck. If some peasant had carried a report of his doings to Count Thibaut + there was nothing to do but flee the vengeance now on the way, and that + instantly. Without waiting even to close the gates the whole troop of + mercenaries went galloping away. When the rescuers clattered into the + courtyard they found no one stirring save a little stout man in a cook's + apron, who was concocting something in a huge saucepan. + </p> + <p> + “I am Martin,” he said to Savaric de Marsan. “I cook. But I do not cook + for cannibals, and my faith! I think that robber captain will end by + devouring his fellow-men. I have no mind to poison the food of his + enemies, either, so when they went away I hid in the great tun. I am at + your service, master.” + </p> + <p> + Savaric was so much amused at the explanation that he then and there + decided to rescue Martin from further evil company and place him in his + own kitchen. + </p> + <p> + “There is some consolation for not catching Biterres,” he observed to + Ranulph later, “in getting a cook like that little man. He deserves + something, truly, for giving you the information he did. And then, we are + rid of Garin for good now. He will never come back to Auvergne. + </p> + <p> + “You should have seen that Norman madman when your message came. He had us + under arms and riding for dear life before we fairly understood what had + happened. Yet from what Martin says, but for your daring and ready wit no + message could have come. You will not allow me to say what I think of + that, and therefore I suppose we must give all the credit to the victor in + our tournament of the pigeons,—little Sieur Rien-du-Tout!” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + THE JESTERS + + Where through the dapple of wood-shadows dreaming + Faun-footsteps pattering run, + Where the swift mountain-brooks silvery-gleaming + Carol through rain and through sun, + Thee do we follow, O Spirit of Gladness,— + Thee to whom Laughter gave suck. + We are thy people by night or by noontide,— + We are thy loves, O Puck! + + Lips thou hast kissed have no pleasure in sadness, + Bitterness, cant nor disdain. + Hearts to thy piping beat bravely in gladness + Through poverty, exile or pain. + Gold is denied us—thine image we fashion + Out of the slag or the muck. + We are thy people in court or by campfire,— + We are thy slaves, O Puck! + + We are the dancers whose morris-bells ringing + Sound the death-knell of our years. + We are the harpers who turn into singing + Our hopes and our foves and our fears. + Thine is the tribute wrung hard from our anguish + After the death blows are struck. + We are thy bondmen who jest while we languish,— + We are thy souls, O Puck! +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III. — THE PUPPET PLAYERS + </h2> + <p> + In a blinding snow-storm that blotted out the roads and obscured the + outlines of the densely forested mountains, two youths and a small donkey + struggled over a mountain trail. Twice the donkey had to be pulled bodily + out of a drift, and once for an hour or more the wayfarers were racked by + the fear that they had lost their direction altogether. But at last, in + the edge of the evening, they saw the lights of the city twinkling like a + miniature Milky Way, and urged on their tired beast in the certainty of + food and shelter at the end of the day. + </p> + <p> + They were very unlike, these two strangers. He who seemed the leader was a + slender lad, dark and keen of face, who might from his looks have been + either French or Italian. In reality he was a Milanese, Giovanni + Bergamotto, the only survivor of one of the families driven out of Milan + when Barbarossa took the city. He had lived nearly half his life in France + and in England, and spoke several languages nearly or quite as well as his + own. + </p> + <p> + The other was a big-shouldered, sullen-looking fellow with black eyes and + hair and a skin originally brown and now still darker from his out-of-door + life—a Pyrenean mountaineer known as Cimarron. It was doubtful if he + himself knew what his name originally had been; to all who knew him now he + was Cimarron, the mountain sheep,—strong, sure-footed, and silent, + and not half as stupid as people often thought. + </p> + <p> + The two had been in Brittany, in Paris, in Sicily and in Castile during + the past months, and in each country they had made their way directly to + the place in which the ruler happened to be holding court. At court they + had exhibited the marionette show now packed away in the donkey's + saddle-bags, once, twice or thrice as the case might be, until Giovanni + had succeeded in gaining audience with the wife of the ruler. He carried + pedlar's goods of very choice varieties, which might well appeal to ladies + of the court in those days of slow transportation and few shops. + </p> + <p> + Now the King of England had three daughters, each of them being married to + some prince of importance on the Continent of Europe, and he had adopted + this means of sending certain letters to be given into their hands. The + letter was carried inside a marionette, the head of the little carved + wooden figure being so made as to unscrew and reveal a deep narrow hole in + the body. The last of the three was Matilda, wife of Henry the Lion Duke + of Saxony, the most powerful vassal of Frederick Barbarossa; and + Barbarossa and his court now occupied Goslar, the walled city of Prussia + which the two comrades were approaching. Giovanni wished to have the + Emperor's permission to go on to Saxony. It might save his being detained + as a spy or interfered with in some other way. + </p> + <p> + He wished also to discover how far the preparations for the invasion of + Italy had gone. From what he had heard he thought that Barbarossa was + about to gather his forces. He himself intended to join the army of the + Lombard League as soon as he had delivered his letter. + </p> + <p> + There was not much difficulty in finding an inn where they could have + supper, and sleep, rolled up in their cloaks, on the floor in a corner of + the common room. The donkey was unloaded and fed, and the saddle-bags were + brought in to serve as pillows. Having eaten, they lay down to the + dreamless sleep of healthy youth. Cimarron's mountain-bred ears caught the + sound, two hours after, of clanking swords and trampling horses, and he + signaled silently to Giovanni. Troopers clattered in, laughing, cursing, + calling for this and that, and not seeing the two motionless figures in + the dark corner at all. When all was still again Cimarron whispered, + </p> + <p> + “Who are they?” + </p> + <p> + “They are Swabian cavalry,” answered the other. “We were none too soon. + The army is mustering already.” + </p> + <p> + Next morning Giovanni cast about for means to get inside the walls of the + great castle, where the Imperial banner floated in the cold blue air. But + there seemed to be no disposition to encourage foreigners. Cimarron, who + could sometimes gain admittance as a horse-boy, was kicked out. There was + tumult and excitement in the streets. Giovanni, retreating to a narrow + alley to brush mud off his doublet, was aware that a man with keen + observant eyes was regarding him from the doorway of a wine-shop. The man + wore the cap and bells of a jester, and his fantastic costume was + gorgeously colored and ornamented. He was drinking a cup of wine, and when + that was finished he poured another for himself and began to sip it + slowly. Catching Giovanni's eye, he asked, + </p> + <p> + “What's in those great saddle-bags, my friend?” + </p> + <p> + Giovanni nearly jumped, for the question was in his own native dialect—not + only Lombard but the variety peculiar to Milan itself. But remembering + that he must not betray his blood he answered meekly, in French, + </p> + <p> + “I crave your pardon, master. I do not understand your question.” + </p> + <p> + “I asked you,” said the jester, “what you had in your luggage. It was an + idle question, but you might be a showman of Milan.” + </p> + <p> + Giovanni laughed with mingled amusement and horror. “Milan, do you say? Is + it safe to say that name in Goslar? No, master, I am a poor showman from + Paris, asking only the opportunity to display my puppets before the great + folk. 'Tis a goodly show, I assure you, master—the play of the Ten + Virgins. Having but six lady-figures I am forced to make them serve for + the wise and the foolish virgins and the bride, but there are also a King, + who in this play is the bridegroom, the Merchant, the Monk, the Jester—who + is most amusing and can dance upon his head or his heels as you will. The + figures were carved by the most skilful wood-carvers of Paris, and the + play was written by a pious monk of the Benedictines.” (Padraig the scribe + would have hooted at this.) “It is a most wise and diverting + entertainment, master, I do assure you.” The jester seemed not to be + listening very attentively. He twirled the stem of the wine-cup in his + hand, crooning, + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “'Fantoccini, fantoccino,— + Chi s'arrischia baldacchino, + Ognuno per se, + Diavolo per tutti.'” + </pre> + <p> + Only long practice in self-control could have kept Giovanni from starting. + The rhyme was a common street-song which every lad in Milan, the city of + puppet-shows, would recognize, and not only did it refer to the puppets as + “fantoccini” instead of marionettes, but the significance of the last two + lines, “Each for himself and the fiend for all,” was rather too pointed to + be pleasant. But he only bowed uncomprehendingly and awaited the further + comment of the singer with more interest than comfort. + </p> + <p> + “I have a mind to speak a word for your puppet-show,” said the jester, + cradling his bauble in his arms. “The Emperor gives little thought to such + toys; nevertheless he may be graciously pleased to spend a few minutes in + that way to-night after supper. Follow me.” + </p> + <p> + He strutted away, a small pompous figure in scarlet and orange, and + Giovanni noted the mingled deference and contempt with which he was + regarded by the crowd. No more trouble was experienced in getting the + donkey along the crowded streets. The fool's discordantly-clashing bells + opened a way everywhere. The porter at the castle gate grinned and flung a + jest at him, but admitted him and those who followed in his train, without + question. + </p> + <p> + A few steps farther on they were halted by a tall, thin, sour-looking man + in the elaborate headgear and robes of a dignitary of the household. + </p> + <p> + “How now, Master Stephen!” he said sternly. “What foolery is this?” + </p> + <p> + “Only a showman, Conrad,” grinned the jester. “He has a puppet-show in + those fat bags of his. Did you think I was trying to smuggle meat-puddings + out of the kitchens for my own solitary meals?” + </p> + <p> + The steward was not satisfied. “Show me the puppets,” he ordered. Giovanni + obeyed. + </p> + <p> + The steward scrutinized the bride and her maidens, pulled the strings + which moved the humpbacked jester, fingered the costumes, and then with a + curt nod bade them go on. “But mind you, Master Stephen,” he said, shaking + a long finger at the fool, “you are to be responsible for these fellows + and keep them in sight from now until the time of the feast. If aught goes + amiss you shall be whipt.” + </p> + <p> + The jester giggled, shook his bells, and began to climb a long flight of + stairs in a tower opening on the courtyard, beckoning the two youths to + follow him. Up and up they climbed, until at last the fool turned and + motioned them to halt. + </p> + <p> + “Come within,” he said to Giovanni. “Let your servant await you with your + baggage on the landing here. He will tell us if any one approaches.” + </p> + <p> + The room in which Giovanni found himself was a small wainscoted apartment + in the top of the tower, furnished in a grotesque fashion well suited to + the humped and twisted figure of its master. The jester flung off his tall + curved cap and seated himself on the corner of a table. From a flask he + poured out a cup of wine and offered it to his guest. “It is not drugged,” + he said with a laugh, “you need not fear. No? Ah, well, perhaps you are + right. I will drink it myself, though I should keep it for the night—the + nights are very long sometimes.” + </p> + <p> + He set down the cup and leaned forward, peering intently into Giovanni's + face. “You gave me a start just now,” he said. “I took you for a ghost—the + ghost of a man I once knew—Giovanni Bergamotto.” + </p> + <p> + This was more than exciting; Giovanni's father had been one of the + murdered hostages of Crema, and if his name came to the ears of the + Emperor he would never leave the castle. + </p> + <p> + Searching his impassive face the jester nodded approvingly. “I knew it,” + he said. “No one else would have behaved as you did—and it is for + Milan. Milan!” He slipped from the table and stood up, the bells jangling + a weird undertone to his every movement. “It is better you should know—I + am—I was when I was alive—Stefano Baldi.” + </p> + <p> + Giovanni's eyes blazed, “And you dare ask a Milanese to drink with you?” + </p> + <p> + “Hear me,” begged the jester. “I sinned a great sin—yes; but I have + lived twelve years in torment of body and soul for that sin. I sinned for + love of a woman, and when I had betrayed my people she denied me, and her + brothers delivered me over to the executioners. They spared my life + because they thought it not worth the taking, and left me the wrecked and + crooked thing you see. Yet I have served Milan since her fall—I, the + traitor,—served her by a thousand petty treacheries and inventions. + It was I who sent Henry Plantagenet the news of Barbarossa's plans. I have + the favor of the Emperor, and hidden things are freely discussed before + me. They know I am Milanese and despise me, but they believe me bought + with gold and with the wine which is my besetting sin.” + </p> + <p> + Giovanni was silent for very amazement. The fool mistook his attitude. + </p> + <p> + “See,” he pleaded, tearing open his tunic, “here on my heart are the arms + of Milan. I kept the badge hidden here under the floor for years, for fear + that when I was whipt they would find it. But since I have the Emperor's + favor none dare touch me. + </p> + <p> + “Do you need money? Are you a spy? But nay—tell me not your errand. + I might—I might babble in the wine-shop, and then they would torture + me to find out the truth, and I might betray you as I betrayed your + father. But if you need money—look!” + </p> + <p> + He knelt above a corner of the hearth and raised a stone, thrusting his + hand into the deep hollow under it. He threw out handful after handful of + rich gold pieces that winked and gleamed in the pale sunlight. “They are + yours—all yours—for Milan.” + </p> + <p> + Giovanni found his tongue. “When I was but a child,” he said slowly, + weighing his words, “my mother taught me to hate and fear Stefano Baldi. + Yet in truth I neither hate nor fear you, Stefano, and I will trust you in + this matter. I have an errand at the court of Henry the Lion in Saxony, + and it was my hope that the Emperor, should he be pleased with our + marionettes, might give me safe-conduct that my journey be the sooner + ended. Then I shall go southward to fight for Milan.” + </p> + <p> + Stefano pushed the gold back into the hole and replaced the stone. “I + see,” he said. “The Emperor is as easily diverted by shows as the Brocken + by its clouds. Yet I think I can find a way to make him serve you. Be + ready to-night with your puppets and put your own soul into the jesting + and the mummery. That is the only thing for you to do. If that fails we + will try the gold.” + </p> + <p> + Giovanni spent the hours before the banquet in setting his mimic theater + in order, trying every cord, pulley and weight to make sure that it worked + perfectly, brushing and reshaping the costumes, going over the songs and + speeches of the play in his head. Cimarron also was busy tuning his rebeck + and trying over the melodies of the songs which Ranulph the troubadour had + written for this little drama. It was based on the story of the ten + virgins, and contained much by-play and shrewd comment on the follies and + fashions of the day. Besides the written text Giovanni was wont to add + some patter of his own, improvised according to the mood of his audience + and the scene of the performance, but he ventured on very little of this + impromptu comedy on such an occasion as this. Too much was at stake. + </p> + <p> + After what seemed endless waiting the time came. The huge hall was filled + with gayly dressed knights, ladies, serving people, soldiers, and half the + petty princes of the Empire. The feasting had given place to + wine-drinking, songs and jesting. The Emperor, cold and impassive, sat in + his chair of state, his mind apparently a thousand miles away. Then there + was a great roar of laughter from the doorway, and a lane opened among the + audience to let Stefano come prancing through in all his grotesque + bravery, his bells chiming a goblin march. After him came Giovanni, and + Cimarron bearing the puppet theater. Giovanni made his obeisance and his + opening speech, and the play began. + </p> + <p> + There seemed to Giovanni to be two of him that night. One self was utterly + absorbed in the performance, intent on making every speech tell, every + song win its meed of applause and laughter, every little figure act with + the spirit and gayety of life. The other self hovered somewhere in the air + among the rafters of the hall, critically watching the whole scene. He + remembered a sensation something like it when he and Cimarron had crossed + a mountain torrent in Spain on a log a hundred and fifty feet above the + jagged rocks and tearing waters. And as on that occasion, Cimarron did his + part as calmly and indifferently as if he were mending a strap in the + donkey's harness. + </p> + <p> + Certainly the play was a success. Giovanni had never met with greater + applause or received more substantial rewards. The ladies gathered to + inspect his wooden figures after the play, like children at a fair. He was + just leaving the hall when a page came to him and directed him to wait in + an ante-room until the Emperor should be at leisure. + </p> + <p> + It was cold and bleak, and Giovanni's tense nerves shivered as he waited. + The noise of departing guests and the tramp of hoofs died away. It grew + colder and stiller in the small grim room. At last the Emperor came in, + and seated himself in a great chair. A servant brought in a brazier full + of coals and went away. The ruler of the Holy Roman Empire, a small man + with red hair and beard, and cold eyes, looked Giovanni over from head to + foot. + </p> + <p> + “You go,” he said, “to the court of Henry Duke of Saxony?” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, Sire,” said the youth. + </p> + <p> + “It is not a very safe journey. There are robbers in the forest.” + </p> + <p> + “Surely,” said Giovanni humbly, “a poor showman might hope to escape + them?” + </p> + <p> + “I fear not,” said the Emperor with the ghost of a smile. “In their + disappointment they might break up your puppets and leave you fastened to + a tree for the wolves to devour. Such things have been done. I will give + you safe conduct and send you on with a company of merchants and soldiers, + if you will carry a message for me. Henry the Lion is delaying too long + with his answer. Tell him that the time has passed for trifling.” + </p> + <p> + “Who,” said Giovanni, wonderingly, “could dream of trifling with your + expressed wish?” + </p> + <p> + “Henry dreams, but he will awake,” said the Emperor curtly. “Hark you—you + seem to be a clever mountebank, and I know what power fellows of your sort + have over the mob—add to your play lines to be spoken by your puppet + King. They should convey this meaning—that although he is a King he + is but a puppet incapable of independent action. Puppets that go wrong are + broken up and burned in the fire. My will is the law for my realm. Saxony + shall be taught that law as Milan was taught, if Henry dares disobey.” + </p> + <p> + Writing a brief sentence or two on his tablets, the Emperor affixed his + signet and gave the missive to Giovanni. “That shall be your proof that + you come from me. Stefano tells me that you go on into Lombardy. Forget + not the meaning of your puppet-show when you reach those rebellious + states. They have been chastised once or twice before.” + </p> + <p> + Giovanni was left alone. On the morrow he took his departure for Saxony + and did his errand. The Duke of Saxony remained at home, and Barbarossa + went on without his aid to meet defeat at Legnano. Giovanni met Stefano by + chance in Venice when the Emperor went there to sign the peace treaty. + </p> + <p> + “His armies were doomed from the first,” the jester said in his hoarse + guttural sing-song. “They were weighted with the souls of the martyred + hostages of Crema. I have lived to see that siege avenged,—and now I + must go on livin—and never see Milan again.” + </p> + <p> + Marveling much at the heights and depths in the soul of a traitor Giovanni + went on his way to England. There he discussed with Tomaso the Paduan + physician, Ranulph the troubadour and Brother Basil of the Irish + Benedictines the astonishing destruction of the Emperor's army. But he + said no word of Stefano. + </p> + <p> + “It is all in the formula on which his power was based,” said the + alchemist thoughtfully. “No man—be he duke, prince or kaiser—can + pose as the master of humanity. Men are not puppets; they are free souls + in a free world. You cannot make even a puppet-player move contrary to its + nature.” + </p> + <p> + “That is true,” said Giovanni. “And I have never had two that behaved + exactly alike. Fantoccini have their own ways of acting—and when you + pull the strings yourself, you know.” + </p> + <p> + THE ABBOT'S LESSON + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + There were twelve good monks and an Abbot who came + To found the Abbey and give the name + In the early days when the stones were laid, + And each of them knew a craft or a trade. + Sebastian the shepherd and Peter the smith, + + James who made leather, and sandals therewith, + Hilarius the cook, of great skill in his art, + Anselm whose herbal lay close to his heart, + Gildas the fisherman, Paul of the plough, + Arnold who looked to the bins and the mow, + Matthew the vintner and Mark the librarian, + Clement the joiner and John apiarian, + Each wise in his calling as craftsmen are made,— + And each deep in love with his own special trade. + But the Abbot was canny, and never would raise + One above other by blame or by praise. + + Now the angel who guarded the Eden gate + Had pity in thinking on Adam's fate, + And sent him three servants, for earth, air and sea, + The sheep, and the fish, and the wise little bee. + And thus it has happened that some people know + More than the rest of us here below. + + There was jealousy, bitterness, wrath and fear + Among these reverend brethren here, + With their leather and parchment and metal and stone, + And the seeds of dissension were freely sown— + Only Sebastian, Gildas and John + In their work appointed went placidly on. + + The Abbot considered his turbulent flock, + And he saw the wicked beginning to mock, + And he gathered the craftsmen about him, to see + Why there was peace with the other three. + + They found Brother John by his bee-skeps brown + Watching his bees in their elfin town. + “Little folk, little folk all a-wing, + More honey is yours when ye do not sting, + And that is a very sensible thing,” + Said Brother John to the bees. + + They found Brother Gildas a-fishing for trout, + Oblivious that any one was about. + “Finny folk, finny folk, deep in the fen, + There's a bait for each fish if we only know when,— + And that is the way to fish for men,” + Said Brother Gildas to the fishes. + + They found on the moorland bleak and cold + Brother Sebastian, far from the fold. + “Sheep of my sheepfold, by night and by day + I seek ye untiring wherever ye stray,— + For thus ye have taught me the Master's own way,” + Said Brother Sebastian the shepherd. + + And the brethren were silent. Each prayed in his heart + That in all of his doings in craft or in art + He might give God the glory. Since Adam's fall + The workman is nothing, the work is all. + There was peace in the cloisters. The Abbot that night + Gave thanks that his children had found the light. +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV. — PADRAIG OF THE SCRIPTORIUM + </h2> + <p> + Padraig sat on the side of the hill where the Good People were said to + dance rings in the turf, his chin on his folded arms, his, arms resting on + his drawnup knees—thinking. He might have been taken for a sheogue + himself had any one been there to see. His hair was like a red flame, and + his eyes were blue as the sky; his arms and legs were as brown as his + young, sharp face, and he wore but one garment, a goatskin tunic. He could + run like a hare and climb like a squirrel and swim like a salmon, for he + had lived like a savage all his life, among the Irish hills. + </p> + <p> + Before he could remember, he had lost his father, a clever tinker who + could make silver brooches and mend brass kettles and had married an Irish + colleen in a seashore village. Then pirates raided the coast, and the + Irish girl with her baby escaped only by hiding in a cellar under a ruined + house. When the boy was seven years old his mother died, and since then he + had gone from one village to another as the fancy took him. For a week or + more he might be herding goats or sheep, fishing, or cutting peat for + fires; he stayed nowhere longer than he chose and owned nothing in the + world except what he wore. Under the tunic there hung a small leather bag + with the few relics his mother had left him. He could make a fish-hook of + a bit of bone, a boat of reeds, or a snare of almost any material he could + find where he happened to be. + </p> + <p> + From this place where he sat he could see a valley of wet meadow-land, in + the midst of which gray stone buildings were massed inside a wall which + enclosed also the garden and the cloisters. He knew that this was an + abbey. + </p> + <p> + Years before a company of twelve monks and a Prior had come there to found + a religious house. They brought from England an arklike chest containing + some manuscript books, and relics, chalices, candlesticks and other + treasures, and little else except their long black robes, girdles and + sandals. These monks, working in orderly and diligent fashion under their + superior's direction, had built a chapel, a dormitory, a dining-hall, + store-houses, barns,—and the community grew. The building was done + first of rough stone and wattle-work after the manner of the country, but + later of good cut stone. Half the countryside had been employed there when + the chapel was building. They had drained the marsh for their meadow-land, + their young trees were growing finely, their vineyard was thriving in a + sunny selected nook, their sheep flecked the hills all about them. A deep + fish-pond had been made where now two monks sat fishing. Padraig wondered + if they had caught anything as good as the lithe trout he had taken from a + mountain stream. + </p> + <p> + He was hungry, for he had been afoot since daylight, and he was wondering + whether to make a fire and cook his trout or offer them to the monks in + exchange for a supper. The wind that blew from the eight-side cone-roofed + kitchen brought to his nostrils a smell so delicious that he was drawn + like a fish on a line to the gates of the abbey. + </p> + <p> + He had met wandering monks and friars, but this was the first abbey he had + entered. When he knocked at the gate and the porter asked him what he + wanted, he was a little excited and rather scared. + </p> + <p> + But the porter, although rheumatic and grumpy, knew good fish when he saw + them, and considered them just the thing for the Abbot's supper. He let + Padraig in by the wicket gate, the door with a grating in it set in the + big door and only about a third as large. Soon the boy was sitting by the + kitchen fire eating a bowl of the most delicious broth he had ever tasted. + Round-faced Brother Hilarius, who had charge of the kitchens, was in so + good a humor over the trout that he suggested to Padraig that he might + herd sheep for the Abbey. The monks did a great deal of the work about + their farms and in their workshops themselves, but there was still much to + do, and they were usually willing to give work to anybody who did not ask + for more than food and lodging. + </p> + <p> + Padraig liked the Abbey, but he would probably have gone on before very + long had he not found something which interested him more than anything + else ever had. Brother Sebastian, the head shepherd, sent him one day to a + part of the buildings he had not before seen. The long stone-walled, + stone-floored room had little stalls down one side, each with its wooden + bench and reading-desk. On one of these desks lay open the first book + Padraig had ever seen. + </p> + <p> + It was not printed, but written, each letter carefully drawn with a quill + pen. The initials of the chapters, and the border around each page, had + been painted in an ornamental design like a tangle of leaves and vines, in + bright red, green, yellow, brown, black, blue. Twisted vines bore fruits, + flowers, tiny animals and birds, here and there a saint, angel or cherub. + The monk who was doing this illuminating was too much absorbed in his work + to know that any one had come in, at first. When he looked up and saw + Padraig standing there he smiled very kindly. + </p> + <p> + He was a gaunt man with eyes as blue as Padraig's own, black eyebrows and + lashes, and a queer dreamy look except when he smiled. His name was + Brother Basil. When he saw the bundle of especially fine sheepskins that + Padraig had brought his face lit up so that it seemed as if the sun had + come into the cloister. “Good!” he said. “I will give you a note to carry + back.” + </p> + <p> + He took a bit of parchment which had once been written upon and had been + scraped clean enough to use again, and made some queer marks upon it with + his pen dipped in black fluid. That was the first time Padraig had ever + seen any one write. + </p> + <p> + It did not take long for Brother Basil to find out how fascinated the + herd-boy was with the work of the scriptorium. Before any one knew it + Padraig was learning to read and write. He learned so quickly that the + Abbot and Brother Mark, the librarian, thought he might make a scribe. But + when he was asked if he would like to be a monk, he shook his head like a + colt eager to be off. Writing was great fun; he practiced with a stick in + the sand or charcoal on a stone. But it did not suit his idea of life to + sit all day long filling books with page after page of writing. + </p> + <p> + He liked the making of colors even better than writing. In the twelfth + century painters could not buy paints wherever they might chance to be. + They had to make them. Brother Basil had studied in Constantinople, or + Byzantium as he called it, the treasure-house of books and of learning, + with its great libraries and its marvelous old parchments illuminated in + colors too precious to be used except for the Gospels or some rare volume + of the Church. As time went on Padraig learned all that Brother Basil + could teach him. + </p> + <p> + When a man is working on an important and difficult task, it means much to + have a helper tending the fires or grinding the paints, who regards the + work as the most important thing in the world and gives his whole mind to + his occupation. Such a helper may ask as many questions as he likes, and + his master will be glad to give him all the instruction he can possibly + want. + </p> + <p> + Most of the people of the Abbey, in fact, liked Padraig. He knew so little + that the monks and lay brothers and even the novices knew, and learned so + quickly, and was so ready to put his own knowledge at their disposal, that + it gave them the very comfortable feeling of being superior persons, + whenever he was about. But there was one person who did not like him. This + was Simon, a clerk attached to the house of the Irish prince who had given + the land for the Abbey. Simon was of the opinion that vagabond urchins + from no one knew where were not proper pupils for monastic schools even in + Ireland, which was on the extreme western edge of Christendom. But Brother + Basil paid no attention to Simon's opinion. In fact, it is doubtful + whether he ever knew that Simon had one. + </p> + <p> + The most serious trouble Brother Basil had in his work was that many of + the materials he needed could not be had in Ireland, nor could the Abbey + afford to send for them except in very small quantities. The monks were + rich compared with most other folk about them. They had food and drink and + warm clothing and well-built houses, and productive land. But as yet they + could not sell much of their produce at a profit which would make them + rich in money. Brother Basil therefore manufactured all the colors he + could, from the resources at hand. To make blue, he pounded up a piece of + an old stone he had brought from Canterbury. Gilding was done by making + gold-leaf out of real gold. The Tyrian purple was made from a gastropod of + the seas near Byzantium, and a little snail-like mollusk of Ireland would + serve to make a crimson like it. Thinning it, the painter could make pink. + There was no vermilion to be had, and red lead must be used for that color + and made by roasting white lead. The white lead was prepared by putting + sheets of lead in vats of grape skins when the wine had been crushed out + of them. Copper soaked in fermenting grape skins would make green, saffron + made it a yellower green,—and saffron was grown on the Abbey land—cedar + balsam would make it more transparent. Brother Basil was always trying + experiments. He was always glad to see a new plant or mineral which might + possibly give him a new color. + </p> + <p> + In all this Padraig was extremely useful. He made friends with a smith who + had a forge and furnace miles away, and wheedled him into lending them the + furnace for the roasting of metals. He ranged the woods and cliffs all + around the Abbey in search of plants, shrubs, trees and minerals. His + knowledge of the country saved Brother Basil many a weary tramp, and he + always took Padraig with him when he went looking for any especial thing + that was needed. + </p> + <p> + It was some time, however, before Padraig learned what Brother Basil + needed most of all. Now that the work of the scriptorium was coming to be + known, orders were received for splendidly illuminated missals and other + volumes, for which gilding was necessary. The brilliant colors would lose + half their beauty without the decorative touches of gilding to set them + off. And gold was costly. + </p> + <p> + “Where do men get gold?” Padraig asked one day. + </p> + <p> + “Out of the earth,” answered Brother Basil absently. + </p> + <p> + “I mean,” said Padraig hesitating, “what is it like when it is in the + earth? Is it a different color—like copper?” Copper, he knew, was + often green when it was found. + </p> + <p> + “Gold is always gold,” said Brother Basil, coming out of his fit of dreamy + abstraction. “I have seen it washed out of rivers. Gold is heavier than + gravel, and when the river carries the gold with the earth down from the + mountains, the gold sinks to the bottom.” + </p> + <p> + Padraig said no more, but a day or two later he was missing. The Abbot was + not pleased, for now he would have to take a man from other work to do + what the boy had been doing. Brother Basil was surprised and hurt. He had + never had such a pupil, and had begun to hope that they might always work + together for the love of the work and the glory of their Church. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose he was tired of us,” Brother Basil said with a sigh. “He is + only a boy.” + </p> + <p> + But Padraig was only a few miles away, high up among the hills where a + stream flowed through a ravine,—digging. He remembered seeing + something there long ago, before ever he came to the Abbey. He worked for + two or three days without finding anything at all. Then, just at sunset, + he saw a gleam of something like sunshine in a shadow where no sun shone. + He grubbed like a mole for a few minutes, and half a dozen tiny grains of + gold lay in his palm. + </p> + <p> + There was not much gold in the stream, but there was some. He dug and + pried and washed the scanty soil until he was sure that no more was there, + and then toward evening of the next day started home to the Abbey. When he + reached the gate it was dark, and the porter was astonished to see him. + </p> + <p> + By the light of a rush candle Brother Basil and the Abbot looked at the + precious grains of river-washed gold, twinkling like fairy stars. Brother + Basil's heart was content, not only because of the gold, but because his + most promising pupil, the wild herd-boy from the mountains, had not really + been weary of the work, but had proved his love for it and for his master. + </p> + <p> + The most excited person who heard of the discovery Padraig had made was + Simon the clerk. He had never lived in any country where gold could be + picked up in the streams, and he did not know, as Brother Basil did, that + these little dots of gold-dust had probably been washed down from some + rocky height miles away. He badgered Padraig in the hope of making him + tell where he had found them, but Padraig would not. It was one of his + best fishing-places, and he had no mind to have it ruined by a gold-hungry + clerk, seeking what had been put there for Brother Basil. + </p> + <p> + At last he grew tired of Simon's questioning, and took him aside and told + him a secret. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder,” said Brother Basil, as he and his pupil went along a hillside + one day at the long, swinging trot they kept for long excursions, “what + Simon the clerk is doing there by the marsh. He seems to be looking for + something.” + </p> + <p> + “He is,” said Padraig with an impish grin. “He thinks the Cluricaune comes + there mornings to catch frogs, and if he can catch the Cluricaune he can + make him tell where all his gold is.” + </p> + <p> + Brother Basil bit his lips to keep back a smile. “Now I wonder,” he said + gravely, “who could have told him such a tale?” + </p> + <p> + “I did,” said Padraig. “That is, I said old Granny Dooley told it to me + when I was small. I've hid in the bushes to watch for the Cluricaune + myself.” + </p> + <p> + CAP O'RUSHES + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Where the downward-swaying branches + Shiver, quiver in the sun, + And with low persistent murmur + The hidden waters run, + Far from bell and book and candle + With their grisly ban, + In the tangle of the rushes + Sits the great god Pan. + + Oh, the unworn joy of living + Is not far to find,— + Leave the bell and book and candle + Of the world behind, + In your coracle slow drifting, + Without haste or plan, + You shall catch the wordless music + Of the great god Pan. + + You shall wear the cap of rushes, + And shall hear that day + All the wild duck and the heron + And the curlew say. + You shall taste the wild bees' honey + That since life began + They have hidden for their master— + For the great god Pan. + + You who follow in the pathway + Of the waters fleet, + You shall tread the gold of springtime + 'Neath your careless feet, + Gold the hasting rivers gathered + Without thought of man,— + Flung aside as hushed they listened + To the pipes of Pan! +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V. — THE TAPESTRY CHAMBER + </h2> + <p> + Lady Philippa sat with her little daughter Eleanor in the tapestry + chamber. This was the only corner of the gray old Norman castle which + seemed really their own. All the rest of it was under the rule of Sir + Stephen Giffard, the eldest son of the house, and still more under the + rule of his mother, Lady Ebba, who seemed more like a man than a woman and + managed everything, in-doors and out, including her sons. Eleanor, + watching her grandmother with shy observant eyes, was not quite sure + whether her father came under that rule or not. He never disputed anything + his mother said or opposed her will, but somehow, when he saw that his + sweet Provencal wife wanted anything, he contrived that she should have + it. + </p> + <p> + Eleanor could not help seeing, however, that her mother was careful not to + appear discontented or melancholy, and to do all that a daughter could do + for her husband's stern old mother. Both Sir Stephen Giffard and Sir + Walter, Eleanor's father, were away most of the time, and if Lady Philippa + had been disposed to make herself unhappy she might have been exceedingly + miserable. The old chatelaine did not approve of luxury, even such small + luxuries as were almost necessities in that vast pile of stone which was + the inheritance of the Norman Giffards. The castle hall was as grim and + bare as a guard-room except on state occasions, and the food was hardly + better on the master's table than below the salt, where the common folk + ate. To be sure, there was plenty to eat, such as it was. The old lord, + who had been dead for many years now, had married the daughter of a Saxon + earl when he was a young knight in England, and Lady Ebba had been used to + plentiful provision in the house of her father. In the autumn, when the + other castles in the neighborhood sent forth gay hunting parties, and the + deep forest, whose trees had never known the ax since Caesar built his + bridges in Gaul, rang to the hunting horns, there was no such merrymaking + on the Giffard lands. Instead, the folk were salting down beef and fish + and pork—particularly pork, from the herds of swine that roamed the + woods feeding on the acorns and beech mast. Toward the end of the winter + there seemed to be more pork than anything else on the table. + </p> + <p> + Lady Philippa had ruled her father's house when she was a girl of + fourteen, and she could have taught the people a different way of living. + She knew how to raise and care for the great variety of poultry, + water-fowl, pigeons, hares, fish, and delicate small birds of many kinds, + such as some of their neighbors had and the southern provinces of France + enjoyed in even greater abundance. But Lady Ebba would have none of it. + Fowls had to be carefully tended, protected from foxes, hawks and other + enemies; the fierce half-wild hogs could take care of themselves. All that + they needed was a peasant herdsman with a dog to keep them together and + see that thieving neighbors did not help themselves. There was more food + in one hog than in a whole covey of game birds, to say nothing of the + trouble of catching and cooking the birds. + </p> + <p> + Neither did the old dame approve of tapestried walls, cups and bowls of + silver, gold and enamel, flower-gardens or delicately-made dishes. + Fortunately her daughter-in-law's herb-garden was not wholly under the + ban. It contained herbs useful in medicine, and God has ordained that many + useful plants are also beautiful in their season. Sage, balm, caraway, + monk's hood, thyme, thrift, mint, and other plants therefore dwelt + contentedly in a sunny nook of the castle. The Provence roses, lilies and + violets needed little care, and having once taken root were not ousted. + One reason may have been that on special occasions perfumed water was + offered to some guest of importance, for the washing of the hands after + eating. By her manner though not in words Lady Ebba conveyed the idea that + it was as well to have some one in the house who had time and taste for + such things. The embroidering of tapestries and rich robes, and the + repairing of such vestments as had come to mending, might also be done by + the person who had time for it. + </p> + <p> + The pleasantest hours in Eleanor's day were those that she spent with her + mother in the tapestry chamber. Whenever the weather would allow it they + sat there during the sunny hours of the day, and if Sir Walter was at + home, or it was very cold and some important piece of work must be done, + they could have a brazier of charcoal to keep them warm. There was no + fireplace in the room. + </p> + <p> + It was not a very large room, and it was stone-floored and stone-walled. + It was Lady Philippa's bedchamber. The bed was oak, built into the wall + like a cupboard, and almost black with age. There were carved doors of oak + that could be shut, making it look like an armoire, but these were usually + open, displaying pillow-slips of fine linen and a linen coverlet, spun, + woven, and embroidered with black silk, by the lady herself. On the floor + were strewn rushes and fragrant herbs. There were two straight carved + chairs of old oak, an ivory footstool and a small table which held a few + books and an ebony work-box inlaid with ivory, and writing materials. Two + carved chests set one on the other served as wardrobe. As for washing + conveniences, these were brought in as they were needed, by the knight's + body-servant or the lady's own maid. The real luxury in the room was the + window, which was more than twice the size of the narrow slits that + lighted the great hall, and opened to the south. On pleasant days the sun + looked in early and lingered late, as if he loved the room and its gentle + mistress. + </p> + <p> + The room had been much the same for more than a hundred years, the castle + having been built during the tenth century. The thing that made it Lady + Philippa's own particular room, which could have belonged to no one else, + was the set of soft yet brilliant tapestries which covered the walls. They + had been worked by her in her girlhood, and she sometimes felt that more + than half her life was wrought into the quaint figures and innumerable + flowers and leaves and emblems of those narrow panels of embroidery. They + had adorned the room which had been hers in her father's castle, and + single panels had curtained or covered wall-spaces in many other castles + during her life as Queen Eleanor's maid of honor. Little Eleanor had heard + the story of the pictures as soon as she was old enough to hear stories at + all, and there was some story connected with the making of each part of + the set. It presented in a series of scenes the history of Sainte + Genevieve of Paris. In the first picture she was shown as a little girl + tending her sheep; then there were pictures of her at the various exciting + times in her life—her saving the people from the Huns, her staying + of the plague, her audience with King Clovis and finally her peaceful old + age among the people who loved her. + </p> + <p> + Eleanor was kneeling on the window-seat where she sometimes slept, her + bright braids falling over her white linen underdress and gown of soft + blue wool. “Mother,” she said earnestly, “I wish I could make some + tapestry.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Philippa was deftly drawing together the edges of a rent in an old + and magnificent gold-embroidered bed-curtain. “Have you finished your + spinning, daughter?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “N-o, but it is almost done. Mother, I will spin twice as much every day + if you will teach me to do tapestry. Were you older than I am when you + learned?” + </p> + <p> + “Not very much older. Perhaps you might begin now. Finish your task while + I make this curtain whole, and we will see.” + </p> + <p> + When her mother said she would “see,” Eleanor knew that a favor was as + good as granted. She spun away to a happy little song that Collet, her + mother's maid, had taught her, and very soon the good linen thread was all + wound smoothly and the little spinster sat demurely watching the + preparations for her new undertaking. + </p> + <p> + First her mother opened the wardrobe chest and took out a strip of linen + about twenty inches wide and of a brownish cream-color. Next she selected + some skeins of dyed linen thread from a heap of all the colors of the + rainbow, mementoes of the work her busy fingers had done during many + years. In a little enameled box, very carefully wrapped in soft wool to + keep them from rusting, were a few needles. Out of a wrapping of cotton + paper came a thin stick of charcoal rather like a crayon—charred + hard wood that could be used for drawing. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said the lady smiling at the eager little face, “what shall we + choose for the subject of your tapestry, and what is to be its use? Will + you have it for a cushion, or a panel of a screen, or something else?” + </p> + <p> + “I think—a set of panels,” said Eleanor slowly. “It will take a long + time, but I should like to do exactly like you.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Philippa gave a little, amused, affectionate laugh that ended in a + sigh. “But, my dear child, you don't think of copying these?” + </p> + <p> + “N-o. But when I grow up I want my room to look like yours. I want the + tapestry to have a story. Mother, do you think I could work the story of + Saint George and the dragon? I like that best of all.” + </p> + <p> + Eleanor drank in all the tales told her so delightedly that her mother had + never known she liked one much more than another. “But,” she said smiling, + “Saint George was an English saint. He was born in Coventry.” + </p> + <p> + “That's why he is my favorite,” Eleanor explained. “You know father is + English. And Saint George had so many adventures. I think he would be very + interesting to do.” + </p> + <p> + “It is your tapestry, dear child,” her mother said, laughing her sweet, + joyous laugh. “I am sure I think Saint George and the dragon would make a + very handsome set. And we need not draw all the designs now. Perhaps + by-and-by we shall know some one who will draw a dragon for us. Meanwhile + you may begin on the first panel.” + </p> + <p> + Eleanor flung her arms around her mother. “Oh, mother dearest, it's so + good of you. I'm so excited to begin. Please commence at the very first + part of the story, for that will be easy.” + </p> + <p> + “Not so easy as you think, perhaps, sweetheart. However, we can but try. + You mean the setting forth of the knight?” + </p> + <p> + “No, the time when he was a little boy, and the weird woman of the woods + took him away and taught him everything. I like that part almost best of + all.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well. That will be a wise beginning, for in embroidering the trees + and flowers of the forest you will learn all the different stitches. You + will have to embroider quite well before beginning on the figures.” + </p> + <p> + Eleanor leaned breathless over the table while her mother drew the + outlines of the picture upon the linen—the witch-woman in her forest + home, the straight, sturdy figure of small George standing before her. On + two sides and the bottom of the panel were drawn gnarled and twisted + tree-trunks and roots, ferns and flowers. Across the top a narrow + conventional border was outlined, the cross of Saint George alternating + with a five-petaled rose, the wild rose of England. + </p> + <p> + “You may begin the border now,” said Lady Philippa, threading a needle + with brown thread. “This is outline stitch, and the design must all be + outlined with this, using different colors according to the part of it you + are working. Then each space is to be filled in with another stitch—you + see it here in the tapestry. For the background we will use still another + stitch, and when you are covering large spaces the work is to be done in + tent-stitch. Every inch of this linen will be covered with embroidery when + it is finished, you know.” + </p> + <p> + Eleanor looked very grave and responsible. She saw long years of work + before her, occupied with the triumphant career of the soldier-saint. But + the new work proved so fascinating that an hour had gone by before she + knew it. It was hard to tear herself away and go down to the chilly stone + hall. She was not expected to come very near the fire of blazing logs, and + felt her grandmother's eye constantly upon her lest she should not sit + erect or behave as a well-born maiden should. She felt also that if Lady + Ebba knew how much time would be consumed by the adventures of Saint + George, she would begin a calculation of the number of skeins of linen + thread that might be spun in that time, to the enrichment of the family. + Eleanor privately thought that there was bed-linen in the castle to last + for at least twenty years—which was true. + </p> + <p> + Letters had been received at the castle that day. Sir Walter was on his + way home, and with him an English knight who had been his friend for many + years—ever since they were squires together in Normandy. Lady + Philippa looked rather sad and wistful when she spoke of Sir Hugh + l'Estrange. He had married her dearest childhood friend, Alazais de + Montfaucon, and Alazais was dead. She had gone a bride into that foreign + land, lived seven happy years, and died. Eleanor could not help wondering + whether she should ever have any friends who were dear to her as these + early friends were to her father and mother. She had never played with any + other children at all. + </p> + <p> + The news of her father's coming had traveled more slowly than he himself + did. The next day, while Eleanor and her mother were busy transplanting + some asphodel, the horn blew at the gate, and in a few minutes the knight + came striding across the turf and caught his wife in one arm and his + daughter in the other. Behind him was a great tall man with laughing eyes + and a rather sad mouth, and standing very straight and soldierly beside + the stranger was a boy some two years older than Eleanor, whom Sir Hugh + introduced as “my son, Roger.” + </p> + <p> + The following days were so full of excitement that little time was left + for the tapestry chamber. The two knights were on their way southward to + meet King Henry and aid him to pacify some of his turbulent subjects. + Roger was to be left at the castle. It was usual for a knight to send his + sons to some friend for training during the years when a boy must learn + the duties of page and esquire. In this case there was more than usual + reason for it, for Sir Hugh's castle was in a remote part of England and + it would not be safe to leave his only son there during his absence. + </p> + <p> + Roger himself, while he frankly admitted that he did not much like leaving + England, was keenly interested in all that he saw and heard. Soon it + seemed as if he had always been at home in the old Norman castle. He + called Lady Ebba “grandame,” as Eleanor had never dared to do, and though + she was as strict with him as she was with every one else, she never + seemed exactly displeased with him. Roger himself saw it. + </p> + <p> + “Why do you like boys better than girls?” he asked her point blank, one + day. + </p> + <p> + “Men can fight,” Lady Ebba answered, curtly. + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” Roger reflected. “But women can make men fight. Father told + me that once when the Danes tried to take your father's castle you held + them off until he came back.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Ebba did not say anything. She rose and stalked away, but although + her back was to Roger, Eleanor could see that she was actually smiling. + </p> + <p> + Eleanor knew that story. It gave her a feeling of enormous admiration and + awe when she thought of it, but love—for a grandmother who had + commanded a garrison, on scanty rations, besieged by fierce and + bloodthirsty pirates—seemed a little out of place. + </p> + <p> + It was certainly far pleasanter, having Roger for a playmate. Eleanor + thought it was better than having a sister. He taught her to run, to fish, + to play bowls, nine-men-morris, and draughts. The dismal stone hall was + not half so grim with Roger in her corner. + </p> + <p> + These diversions did not, however, interrupt the daily lessons, the task + in spinning, or the newly-begun tapestry. To her great satisfaction + Eleanor found that Roger liked the tapestry chamber nearly or quite as + well as she did. When he saw Eleanor's tapestry he persuaded Sir Hugh + l'Estrange to spend a rainy morning in making sketches for it. + </p> + <p> + “Father has been to Egypt and the other places,” he explained, “and knows + just how they look. You never saw a dragon, though, father?” he added + doubtfully. + </p> + <p> + “Not exactly, but I have seen a beast rather like one,” laughed the + knight, and he drew a very fair picture of a crocodile, adding wings and a + fiery breath and fearsome talons by way of establishing its dragonship. “I + have seen the place where they say the monster was killed. And did you + know that Saint George is said to have helped the Allies under Godfrey in + the First Crusade, at the battle for Jerusalem?” While the children looked + on in fascinated wonder, he sketched in a battle-scene—rather + cramped for space because of the narrow linen web—showing Godfrey de + Bouillon cheering on his knights, the saint on his great white horse + leading the charge, and the banner of the Cross rising above the host. + From the tapestried walls Sainte Genevieve and her people looked on with + kindly interest at the little group. + </p> + <p> + When the two fathers had gone away life settled into a quiet but pleasant + order. Roger shared some of Eleanor's lessons, and when she was at her + spinning or needlework he was often by, with a bow to shape, a spear to + polish or some other in-door work to do, while they listened to Lady + Philippa's stories. To him nearly all of them were new. + </p> + <p> + As the spring advanced the three spent much time in the garden. A drain + was needed in one place, and Roger retrieved a spade from the gardener's + quarters and went at it. He had heard Lady Philippa say that she should + like to have a “mount” there—an artificial hill made of packed earth + and stones—and as he dug he threw the dirt inward and tramped it + down. He explained that this was the way a castle mount was made if the + hill selected was not high enough. The one at Lewes that William de + Warenne had made was a hundred and fifty feet high. + </p> + <p> + Eleanor caught the enthusiasm, brought stones and helped tread them down + with her stout little leather shoes, and old Jehan's grandson with his + sabots helped also. + </p> + <p> + “Wouldn't it be beautiful if we could build a castle on the top?” Eleanor + suggested as they stood looking at it. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps we can—if your mother is willing. Ask her if we may have + all the stones we pick out of the garden—if we don't harm the plants—will + you, Eleanor?” + </p> + <p> + Eleanor climbed the winding stairs to the tapestry chamber, and came + flying back with the glad permission. Then the small building force went + to work in deep earnest. + </p> + <p> + “I know exactly how to build it, for I saw the building of our castle from + the very first,” Roger explained. + </p> + <p> + “We lived in a tent all summer until it was done—part of it—so + that we could have a room. First they dig a ditch, just like this one, + around the mount, and they make a palisade of forest trees—whole + trunks set close together—to keep off enemies. When they have time + to build a stone wall, of course the wooden wall is taken down. + </p> + <p> + “Now here, on the most solid side of the mount, is the place for the keep. + We use the biggest stones for that. The bottom storey of father's keep is + partly cut right out of the rock, and the walls are twenty-five or thirty + feet thick. Nobody can knock down that wall with a battering-ram! Here + we'll make a great arched door, so that the knights can ride right in + without dismounting when they're hard pressed by the enemy. Here's the + drawbridge—” Roger hastily whittled off a piece of bark—“and + this line I've scratched inside the outer wall is for the wall round the + inner bailey. We'll have a watch-tower here—and here—and here. + Father says that a good builder places his towers so that each one + protects one or two others, and in the end every one is protected. + </p> + <p> + “In the storey above will be the great hall. These walls don't need to be + so thick—not more than eighteen feet. Here on this side we'll cut a + little room out of the thickness of the wall, for the private chamber of + my lord and lady—” + </p> + <p> + “The tapestry chamber!” cried Eleanor. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” Roger went on, “and here on the other side we have the + well-chamber. There's a stone bason with a shaft that goes away down to + the well in the lowest part of the castle, and the defenders can always + get water by lowering a bucket when they're besieged. Up above is another + storey for a guard-room, and a flat roof with battlements around it, where + the sentinels can see for miles and miles across the country.” + </p> + <p> + The two children gazed at their castle mount and almost believed the + walls, eighteen, twenty, thirty feet thick—rising before their eyes. + </p> + <p> + “But that isn't all of the castle,” said Eleanor at last. + </p> + <p> + “No; we'll build more towers after awhile, and have a banquet hall to + entertain the King. And the soldiers and people will live in tents and + wattled huts until the stonework is done. But the keep is the first thing + to build, because, you see, you have to defend yourself from enemies no + matter when they come.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Philippa's garden was cleared of stones in a much shorter time than + she had expected. But to build a stone wall simply by laying one stone + upon another is less easy than it seems. Roger had done something of the + sort before, but he had had fragments of stone from the masons' work + instead of water-washed pebbles. And when the keep was actually built as + high as the first floor above the foundation, a heavy rain came, streams + tore out one side of the mount, and the stone-work tumbled into a hopeless + ruin. + </p> + <p> + In the crystal brilliance of the morning after the storm Roger surveyed it + ruefully. “Father says,” he recalled, “that everything depends on the + foundations. We'll do it over again and make the mount more solid.” + </p> + <p> + “And when it is done,” said Eleanor, never losing faith, “I'll beg some + linen of mother and make tapestry for the walls of the little room and the + great hall.” + </p> + <p> + But the stones would not stay in place. Roger tried plastering them with + mud, then with clay. Neither would hold when dry. Then he saw a workman + repairing part of the garden wall, and in an evil moment borrowed some of + the mortar while the man was gone to his dinner. He had just set it down + near the mount when Collet came to call the children to their own dinner. + The bucket remained there, and Lady Ebba's old gray cat, chasing a hound + she had discovered near the hole where her kittens were secreted, bounced + off a wall and fell into the mortar—fortunately hind feet foremost. + The indignant Jehan came searching for his bucket and kicked the pile of + stones in all directions, Lady Ebba made stern inquiry into the misfortune + which had come to her cat, and wall-building was abandoned. + </p> + <p> + For a week or more, Roger gardened, fished and practiced archery in a + somewhat subdued fashion. Lady Philippa, watching Eleanor's brown head and + the boy's tousled tow-colored mop, as they consulted over a boat Roger was + making, smiled and sighed. She wished that Alazais were there to see them + play together. + </p> + <p> + Not long after the disastrous building incident Sir Walter appeared one + day with surprising news indeed. Sir Stephen Giffard, the elder brother, + was about to marry and come to live in the old Norman chateau. The new + chatelaine was a rich widow of Louvain. Sir Stephen and Lady Adelicia + would be the lord and lady of the castle, and would have the tapestry + chamber. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, moth-er!” cried Eleanor piteously. No other room in the castle would + ever be so pleasant. She could not understand her mother's untroubled + acceptance of the change. + </p> + <p> + “But my dear child,” Lady Philippa went on, “we shall not be here; we are + going away. King Henry has given your father a great estate in a wild + country in the west of England, and he is building a castle for our home. + You will be an English maiden, sweetheart, and have your tapestry of Saint + George for your very own room.” + </p> + <p> + Eleanor's eyes were starlike. Then her mouth began to droop a little. “Is + Roger to stay here?” + </p> + <p> + “Roger will be with us. His father's castle is only a few leagues from + ours, and he is going to leave Roger at our home for a year or more while + he is away.” + </p> + <p> + This made it quite perfect. Roger rejoiced openly at the prospect of going + back to England. In stray moments Eleanor wondered a little how Lady Ebba + liked it. She rather doubted whether Lady Adelicia would be as content + there as her mother. + </p> + <p> + When they rode away from the old Norman gateway for the last time Eleanor + laughed gleefully: “I don't care where we go, mother,” she whispered, + “we've the roots and seeds from your garden, and we shall have a tapestry + chamber!” + </p> + <p> + THE CASTLE + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + O the Castle of Heart's Delight! + The winds of the sunrise know it, + And the music adrift in its airy halls, + To the end of the world they blow it— + Music of glad hearts keeping time + To bells that ring in a crystal chime + With the cadence light of an ancient rime— + Such music lives on the winds of night + That blow from the Castle of Heart's Delight! + + O the Castle of Heart's Delight + Where you and I go faring— + Heritage dear of love and toil, + Guerdon of faith and daring. + For all may win to the ancient gate, + Though some are early and some are late, + And each hath borne with his hidden Fate,— + For never a man but hath his right + To enter his Castle of Heart's Delight! +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VI. — THE FAIRIES' WELL + </h2> + <p> + “What a beautiful place this is,” Lady Philippa said softly. She was + standing with her husband near the great stone keep, looking out across a + half-built wall at the hills and valleys of his wilderness domain. It was + one of those mornings of early summer when the air is cool yet bright with + sunshine, and the unfolding beauty of the world has something of heaven in + it. Birds were singing everywhere, and the green of new leaves clothed the + land in elvish loveliness. “Your England is very fair, Gualtier.” + </p> + <p> + “It is good that you find it so, love,” answered the knight. He had had + misgivings a-plenty in bringing his gently-bred Provencal wife to this + rough country. Often he had to be absent from dawn to moonrise, riding on + some perilous expedition. He and his little force of men-at-arms and + yeomen were doing police work on the Welsh border, and no one ever knew + just when the turbulent chiefs of those mountains would attempt a raid. + </p> + <p> + Lady Philippa never complained. She ruled her household as he ruled his + lands, wisely and well. She called her husband Gualtier instead of Walter, + because he liked it, and sang to her lute the canzons and retronsas of her + country, but she seemed to love his England as he did. She talked to the + woodcutters' wives and the village women and farm people as if she had + played in childhood about their doors. In fact the knight had a shrewd + notion that if he had been a bachelor the taming of his half-British, + half-Saxon peasantry would have been far less easy. + </p> + <p> + He had not wished to dominate and overawe the people, but to win them to + true loyalty. He had known exactly what he wanted when he selected the + place for his castle, and a man who knows his own mind can usually find + men to do his work. + </p> + <p> + A castle in that place and time was a little town in itself, and it must + be able to exist by itself when necessary, without markets or factories or + outside help of any kind. Like most Normans the knight was a born builder, + and had taken care to make his castle as proof against attack, and as + scientifically built, as castle could be. Each landowner had to be his own + architect. Certain general rules were followed, of course. The keep, the + fosse, the inner and outer bailey, the general construction, were much the + same in all fortresses of Normandy or Norman Britain. But no two sites + were alike, and the work had to be planned not only according to the shape + of the hill but with reference to the material to be had, the amount and + quality of labor at hand, and the climate. This castle was on a hill not + high originally, but made some fifty feet higher by heaping up earth and + stone to bring the whole top somewhere near the level of the huge rock on + which the keep was built. On that side the river flowed almost under the + precipitous western face of the mount, so that a stone could be dropped + from the battlements into the water. The young page, Roger, thought he + could fish from his window if he could get a line long enough. The keep + was still the living-place of the family, but the double line of stone + wall encircling the mount was finished, and at exposed points small + watch-towers were placed, known as the mill-tower, the armorer's tower, + the smith's tower or the salt-tower, according to their use. If the castle + should be attacked each one of these outworks would be the post of a small + garrison and stubbornly defended, while the keep could be held almost + indefinitely. The deep cellars would hold grain and salt meat enough for + months, and there was a spring within the walls. Even the narrow windows + were so shaped that an arrow aimed at one of them would almost certainly + strike the cunningly-sloped side and rebound, instead of entering the + building. The gate was of massive timbers held together by heavy iron + hinges and studded with nails, and above it was a projecting stone gallery + connecting the two gateway towers. This gallery was machicolated, or built + with a series of openings in the floor, through which the defenders could + shoot arrows upon the besiegers, or pour boiling pitch down upon them. + This was a Saracen contrivance, and had been suggested and supervised by + Sir Hugh l'Estrange, who had seen the like in Spain. + </p> + <p> + There was one place where all plans had gone wrong, and that was a part of + the wall near the keep, almost under the windows of the well-chamber. It + had been built three times, and always, before it was done, the stones + would begin to slip and sink. Yesterday a section of wall had gone clean + over into the river and carried a mason with it. Fortunately he could + swim, and though nobody thought he would come out alive, he had scrambled + up the bank very cold, somewhat bruised, and sputtering like a wet cat. + </p> + <p> + That brought the matter to a crisis. There were uneasy whispers of a curse + on the mount, a tradition that no castle built there would ever be + finished, an old custom of sacrificing some human being to be buried under + the foundation of a castle for the pacifying of the ancient gods. And all + of this uncanny terror was somehow connected with a hill some distance + away toward the forest-clad mountains, where a low brown-tiled cottage + crouched like a toad, under a poplar whose leaves were ever twinkling in + the sun. + </p> + <p> + “Gualtier,” queried Lady Philippa, her eye following his, “what is it + about old Mother Izan? The maids have been telling all sorts of foolish + tales about her enchantments. What has she been doing?” + </p> + <p> + The knight laughed, but not very mirthfully. “Nothing whatever, in my + opinion. But I may as well tell you—they say that she has overlooked + the mount so that we shall never be able to finish this corner of the + wall. It is vexatious, because I meant that nook for your garden. It is + the only place that is sheltered from the wind and at the same time has + sunshine and a good outlook. But the wall has thrice been all but + finished, and each time the stones have begun to sink and topple. This + time Howel the mason was nearly killed. Of course, a feeble bent old woman + who can hardly hobble ten rods cannot have undermined a wall at this + distance. That is absurd. But the panic the men have got into is not. That + wall will have to be finished—somehow.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Philippa looked at the tumbled masses of stone. “It would be a + charming place for roses,” she mused, and looked again at the cottage, + where beside the door a gleam of water caught the light. “That is the + spring they call the Fairies' Well.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; it is one of the oldest wells in this part of England. The water is + pure as the sunlight, and never fails. Hugh thinks it may be one of the + places the heathen priests held sacred. It is not so very long since the + people worshiped pagan gods.” + </p> + <p> + The lady traced a pattern in the dust with the point of her slender shoe. + “I think,” she said, “that I will take the children and ride over to see + Mother Izan.” + </p> + <p> + The knight made no objection, for the country was quiet, and he could see + the party from the castle mount as they set forth, Lady Philippa on her + black Arabian jennet, Eleanor and Roger on their forest ponies. + </p> + <p> + The children had had their own discussion about that wall the day before, + and returned to it as they rode along the trail that led to Mother Izan's + cottage. It was a longer way than it seemed from the height, for a marsh + full of tall reeds almost encircled the hill on which the Fairies' Well + was, and the trail kept to the high moorland above. + </p> + <p> + “I do wonder what is the matter with the wall,” mused Eleanor. “Do you + suppose it can be bewitched, Roger?” + </p> + <p> + “Maybe,” Roger admitted. “But if Mother Izan can't keep her cow out of the + bog I don't see how she could pull down a stone wall. It's like the story + of Dinas Emrys father told me,” he added with relish. “King Vortigern was + building a castle on Snowdon, and every night whatever they had built in + the daytime fell down. After awhile they sent for old Merlin to see what + the matter was. And it was two great serpents in a pool away down under + the foundation. One was white and one was red, and they fought all the + time. First the white one had the best of it, but the red one beat him at + last, and chased him out of the pool. Merlin told them that the red + serpent meant the British and the white serpent the Saxons, and the + British would drive the Saxons out. But they haven't done it yet.” + </p> + <p> + This was deliciously horrible. “You don't suppose there are snakes under + our castle, do you, Roger?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course not,” said Roger, pulling in his lively pony. “That was nothing + but a tale. I wish I could bore a hole into the cliff, and see.” + </p> + <p> + “Collet says Mother Izan is a witch,” said Eleanor, abandoning the subject + of snakes. “She hated it, when mother used some of her herb drinks last + year.” + </p> + <p> + “I like Mother Izan,” said Roger sturdily. “She cured my leg once, when a + stone fell on it—long before you came, when I was a little fellow.” + Roger was not quite ten. “She knows more about plants and animals than + anybody. Ruric let her doctor his dog, the big one he calls Cuchullin.” + </p> + <p> + “Collet doesn't like Ruric either,” said Eleanor. + </p> + <p> + “She doesn't like anybody here really, except mother and me. I never mind + very much about what she says. There's Mother Izan in the doorway,—and + oh, what has she got hanging up in the big tree?” + </p> + <p> + The old woman was a queer bent creature with greenish eyes like a cat's, + and white unruly hair that would not stay under her coif. In fact she + looked not unlike a gaunt, grim old puss who had all her life fought what + crossed her path, from snakes to staghounds. She was so old that the + village people could not remember when she had been young, and her + grandsons were elderly men. + </p> + <p> + A wicker basket hung from the lowest branch of the poplar tree. In it, + cradled in close fine-woven osiers with a lining of rabbitskin, lay a + solemn black-eyed baby, looking almost as old as the old woman herself. + </p> + <p> + “It's like a changeling,” thought Eleanor, looking with fascinated eyes at + the weird little being. Lady Philippa smiled, and laid her hand softly on + the furry black head. “This is an unusual sight in your cottage,” she + said. “Whence came it, Goody?” + </p> + <p> + “Tis none of mine,” old Izan grumbled, “'tis the brat of a scatter-brained + woman—Kate, wife to Howel the mason. She came screeching at me + saying the babe was a changeling I had left in place of her child of two + years, and I should care for it. I have no mind for the tending of babes + at my time of life, but I could not let the creature starve. Natheless + 'tis but ill fed, for my cow was lost in the marsh, and none will let me + have milk for it. Kate she's dead of a fever, and Howel will have naught + of the young one, so I have made shift as I could, with bread soaked in + herb drink.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Philippa was twisting a vine-garland into a leafy canopy to keep the + sun from the baby's eyes. “'Tis a pretty baby,” she said, “though so + small. The cow that was lost in the marsh—how did that happen?” + </p> + <p> + The old woman's eyes blazed with hatred. “My lady, the lads of the village + drove her there, and the poor hunted beast floundered into a quagmire. I + cursed them well for it, but that does not bring back the good cow. And + Howel will do nothing for me because the child is so weazened and so + small.” + </p> + <p> + The lady frowned. “It is all wrong,” she said, “the lads' cruelty and the + cursing of them and the blame of the woman who thought you had witched her + child. Sir Walter shall send you a goat that you can tether within sight + of the cottage. In my country the folk often feed their babes on goat's + milk, and I would like well to taste goat's milk cheese again. Is Howel at + work now?” + </p> + <p> + “He was, my lady, but since he fell into the water he swears that he will + work no more on the wall.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Philippa spoke but with winsome frankness,—“The men say, good + mother, that the wall is witch-ridden because it has fallen thrice. They + are afraid, that is why they do not reason. Surely in God's world we + should be safe from such evil, if we serve Him. Perhaps if the baby grows + fat and merry, Howel will be kinder. Has it been christened yet?” + </p> + <p> + “Nay—what have we to do with such gear? But my lady—heard ye + never the old rhyme— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “'Overlook the Fairies' Well— + None did that since Adam fell; + Overlook the Fairies' Hill— + Then Old Nick shall have his fill.'” + </pre> + <p> + “That has naught to do with our castle,” said the lady wonderingly. “Look—the + keep is no higher than your roof-tree. My lord chose not the site for its + loftiness but for the sure foundation.” + </p> + <p> + “Aye,” chuckled the old woman, “you say well, 'tis a good foundation. All + but that corner. Tell your lord to raise no towers on that corner.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry the wall has given so much trouble,” Lady Philippa said + regretfully, “for that is the only place for my garden—my roses and + violets and herbs. My lord will try once more to finish it. If I might + have but that piece of garden it would be like a bit of my old home, and + that is a dear treasure, Mother Izan, in a foreign land.” + </p> + <p> + Her voice trembled as she spoke, and Eleanor pressed close to her mother's + side and held her hand. She had never heard a word before about her + mother's longing for Provence. + </p> + <p> + As the three rode away old Izan stood for a long time, shading her eyes + and gazing after them. Next morning a village boy in charge of Roger came + up the path to her door, leading two bleating bewildered goats, which were + securely fastened to a stake to graze at will. + </p> + <p> + “I came myself,” said Roger loftily, “because I meant to make sure that it + was all right. I haven't forgotten the time you cured my leg, Mother Izan, + and neither has father. Have those blue-tit eggs hatched yet?” + </p> + <p> + The old woman's brown withered face crinkled in a smile. “Trust you, + Master Roger!” she muttered. “Come still.” + </p> + <p> + She hobbled around to the rear of the cottage and paused to draw aside a + branch. Roger cautiously peered through the leaves, and a hiss like that + of an angry snake sounded within. + </p> + <p> + “If I didn't know it was a bird I should think there was a snake or a + cross cat in there,” said Roger, after he had had a look at the small but + spirited bird-mother. “What ever makes her do that, Mother Izan?” + </p> + <p> + Old Izan put out a gnarled hand to feed the titmouse a few live insects. + “Same as an old woman don't mind folk saying she's a witch so they let her + alone, mayhap,” she said. “You'd not reach your hand in there if 'twas an + adder's nest, I reckon.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm teaching Eleanor all the birds' names,” went on Roger, quite at his + ease, munching a bit of flag-root. “They don't have the same names here + that they do in Normandy, you know. Old Jehan—the gardener that used + to know Eleanor's grandfather—taught me all their names when I was + there. The nuthatch is Pic Macon, and the mum-ruffin is Pendolin, and the + robin is Marie-Godrie. I'm going to show Eleanor the nest next time we + come, if you don't mind.” + </p> + <p> + To the surprise of everybody old Izan rode up the castle mount one day on + a borrowed donkey. “Howel he loaned it to me,” she explained dryly. “Seems + like he has less fear of witches since little Gwillym began to fat up. I + have secret things to speak of to my lord, Master Roger. Will 'ee take him + word?” + </p> + <p> + In private, with only Sir Walter and Lady Philippa to hear, the old woman + told her secret. + </p> + <p> + “'Tis the Fairies' Well that drags down your wall,” said she. “My + grandfather told me the tale, and he had it from his father. The outlet is + a hidden stream that runs underground to the river, and not the stream in + the marsh as folk think. The underground channel goes under a corner of + your mount. When the snows melt and the waters are strong in mountain and + in valley, then rises the water in this channel, deep under the mount, and + heaves at the rocks above it and throws down your wall. That is all the + witchcraft of it. So long as 'twas your stones and battlements that fell I + cared no whit, but when my lady told me that she would have her garden + there I could not bear to think of the peril for her and the younkets. I + am no witch, my lord, unless it be Satan that gives us to know more than + others. But I have hated the Normans who came here to steal our land, and + have helped my people to harass them in years gone by. All but you and Sir + Hugh l'Estrange, they have despoiled and plagued the folk. But build no + wall above the stream, for 'twill fall—'twill fall—'twill + fall. The waters will pull it down.” + </p> + <p> + The knight sat thinking, his hands on the arms of his tall carved chair. + “I am not so sure,” he said. “Maybe we can lift the curse on the mount and + make the wall secure. You shall dwell in peace by your well so long as you + may live, and your children after you, if you will show me where this + channel goes and keep the secret. Tis in my mind that it is best to keep + it secret still.” + </p> + <p> + The old woman looked up with bright inquiring eyes. + </p> + <p> + “See you,” the knight went on, “if we dig a channel to let the waters run + to the river by a shorter swifter way there will be no more trouble. I + think that we will make an excuse of draining the marsh. Then if we can, + when the underground way is no more the channel of the stream, we will + wall it in to make a secret passage from the castle in time of need. You + have kept the secret so long that I may trust it with you—and there + will be no more talk of the powers of evil taking toll of my people.” + </p> + <p> + Sir Walter rose and went his way, and in due time consulted with his head + mason about the canal to the river. But Lady Philippa came and took both + old Izan's work-hard hands in hers, and thanked her, with tears in her + eyes. Thereafter no more masonry fell above the hidden waters, and the + cottage by the Fairies' Well was left in peace. + </p> + <p> + LULLABY OF THE PICT MOTHER + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Hush thee, my baby O! never thee cry, + Cradled in wicker, safe nested so high. + Never gray wolf nor green dragon come near,— + Tree-folk in summer have nothing to fear. + + Hee-o, wee-o, hear the wild bees hummin', + See the blackcock by the burnie drummin',— + Wattle-weaving sit we snug and couthie,— + Hee-o, wee-o, birdling in our boothie! + + Hush thee, my baby O! dark is the night— + Cuddle by kiln-ring where fire burns bright. + Trampling our turf-roof wild cattle we hear— + Cave-folk in winter have nothing to fear. + + Kling-klang, ding-dong, hear the hammers clinking— + Stone pots, iron kettles, copper cups for drinkin'! + Elf-shots for bowmen plough a mighty furrow— + Hee-o, wee-o, foxling in our burrow! + + Hush thee, my baby! The Beltane's aglow, + Making the deasil the wiseacres go. + Brewing our heather-wine, dancing in round— + Earth-folk are we, by her spells are we bound. + + Hee-o, wee-o, hear the pipes a-croonin', + Like the dragon's beetle-wings a-droonin', + Dyeea guard us from the Sword-man's quellin',— + Hee-o, wee-o, bairnie in our dwellin'! + + Hush thee, my baby O! hear the dogs bark, + Herdin' the lammies home out o' the dark. + Cradled and christened frae goblin's despite, + House-folk we hear the kirk bells through the night. + + Hee-o, wee-o! hear the cricket chirrin', + Hear auld Bawthrens by the ingle purrin',— + Christ us keep while daddie's gone a-huntin'! + Hee-o, wee-o, bonnie Babie Buntin'! + + The winds and the waters our Father shall praise, + The birds, beasts and fishes shall tell o' His ways. + By seashore and mountain, by forest and ling, + O come all ye people, and praise ye our King! +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VII. — THE WOLVES OF OSSORY + </h2> + <p> + Philosophers generally incline to the opinion that the werewolf has no + tail. Therefore, this being the sign—” + </p> + <p> + “Nennius positively states that in certain Irish families, the power to + change at will into a wolf—” + </p> + <p> + “And who knows how numerous may be these abominable wizards?” + </p> + <p> + Padraig, the scribe, sat listening intently while the company around the + guest-house fire discoursed in monk-Latin of werewolves in Ireland. “In + saecula saeculorum”—“ab incunabilis horrendum”—“quocunque + nomine notandum”—“coram diabolo”—the sonorous many-syllabled + phrases clattered like the noise of rooks in treetops. It was January, the + “wolf-month” of old English shepherds. Meadows ran floods of icy + half-melted snow; mountain winds were screaming about the cloisters, and + for two days travelers had been weather-bound at the Abbey. + </p> + <p> + Some time before, there had been rumors of wolves infesting the hills and + displaying in their forays an all but human boldness and cunning. Then + other tales began to be whispered. The peasantry huddled early about their + turf-fires, and the shepherds of the Abbey sought counsel from their + superior. They got small comfort from the Abbot, who curtly ordered them + to attend to their duty and avoid vain babblings. + </p> + <p> + All the same, among the manuscript volumes in the nest-egg of a library + the monks possessed, there were chronicles that mentioned the werewolf. + Marie de France in her “Lays” included the Breton romance of Bisclaveret, + the loup-garou. The nerves of the weaker ones began to play them tricks. + It was less and less easy to keep unbroken the orderly round of monastic + life. + </p> + <p> + This little religious community, toiling earnestly and faithfully under + wise direction, might in time bring some comfort and prosperity into a + desolate land. Ireland had once been known as the Isle of Saints. Now, + despoiled by warring kings, pagan Danes and finally the Norman adventurers + under Strongbow, the people were in some districts hardly more than + heathen. This Abbey, set by Henry Plantagenet in a remote valley, was like + a fort on the frontier of Christendom. The people were sullen, suspicious, + ignorant, and piteously poor. To deal with them demanded all that a man + had of courage, faith and wisdom. And now came these rumors of men-wolves. + </p> + <p> + When the floods had gone down and the guests departed, Brother Basil in + the scriptorium found Padraig diligently at work on a new design for the + border of the manuscript he was illuminating. The central figure was that + of a wolf crouching under a thorn-bush to slip out of the shaggy skin + which disguised his human form. Under his feet lay a child unconscious. At + a distance could be seen the distracted mother, and other wolves pursued + terrified people flying to shelter. Once, before he came to the Abbey, + Padraig had been chased by wolves, and had spent the night in a tree. He + drew his wolf with a lifelike accuracy, inspired by the memory of those + long, cold hours under a winter moon. + </p> + <p> + Instead of pausing with a word of criticism or suggestion, as usual, + Brother Basil took up the drawing and put it in his scrip. All that he + said was, “Find another design, Padraig, my son.” + </p> + <p> + To others Padraig might seem an unruly spirit, neither to command nor to + coax, but the word of Brother Basil was his law and his gospel. He began + to draw new figures on fresh parchment, but he could not quite put out of + his mind the unlooked-for fate of his wolf. Current gossip often gave + hints for the work of the illuminators, and he knew the work had been + good. + </p> + <p> + It was plain enough that Brother Basil was in one of his absent-minded + fits. There was no beguiling him into talk at such times. If any of those + under his direction presumed upon his mood to do careless or ill-judged + work, they found his eye as keen and his word as ready as usual. But his + mind—his real self—was not there. Padraig wondered whether + this could have any connection with the unlucky picture. + </p> + <p> + Next day there was deeper concern in the scriptorium. Brother Basil was + not present at all. The work went on under Brother Mark, the librarian, + but the heart of it was not the same. The untiring patience, brilliant + imagination and high ideals of the man who was not only their master but + their friend, had made him the soul of the little group of artists. He + could not be away for a morning without every one feeling the difference. + At times he had gone afield for a day or even longer, searching for + balsams, pigments, minerals and other things needed for the work, but he + had nearly always taken Padraig with him. This time he had gone alone. + </p> + <p> + Padraig was as curious as a squirrel and as determined as a mink, and he + wished very much to know what this meant. He did not exactly believe the + werewolf story, although it had so impressed him that he could not help + making the picture; but he did not like to think of it in connection with + the mysterious absence of Brother Basil. A priest of the Church might be + able to defy a loup-garou, but if the wolves were real ones they might not + know him from any ordinary man. + </p> + <p> + There is no land so full of fairy-lore and half-forgotten legends as + Ireland. Princes in their painted halls and slaves in their mud cabins + listened to the shanachies or wandering story-tellers, with wonder, terror + and delight. Cluricaunes, banshees, giants, witches, monsters, pookas and + the little red-capped people of the fairy rings, were known to the + dwellers in many a wattled hut where Padraig had slept. Old people who + spoke no language but their own luminous Irish winged his young + imagination with tales far more marvelous than those of Nennius, the monk + of Bangor. + </p> + <p> + Still, Padraig had never himself seen any of these extraordinary beings. + He also suspected that Brother Basil would not vouch for the truth of + everything in the Latin books he taught his pupils how to read. + </p> + <p> + Days passed, and Brother Basil had not returned. The uneasiness among the + monks was growing. It was said that the Abbot himself was as much in the + dark as they were. Padraig had just made up his mind that he could endure + it no longer, when the Abbot sent for him. + </p> + <p> + It had been decided, Padraig learned, that he, as Brother Basil's wonted + companion on such excursions, would have the best chance of finding him + now. All that any one knew was that he had gone out of the great gate one + morning early, and no one had seen him since. + </p> + <p> + “Nobody would,” said Padraig, “if he went straight north into the hills. + No one lives near the old road through the forest.” + </p> + <p> + It was in that direction that all the wolf-tracks had led from the + sheep-fold, and the country was a wilderness of marsh and mountain. The + Abbot looked at the boy keenly, kindly. + </p> + <p> + “Are you willing to go alone?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “It is the best way,” Padraig replied quickly. “One can get on faster,—and + there are not many here who can climb like him. I think he must have met + with an accident far from any dwelling.” + </p> + <p> + “He is well beloved by the people. If any one had found him we should have + heard. And you have no fear?” + </p> + <p> + Padraig hesitated. “There are many frightful things in the world,” he said + slowly. “Long ago I knew that if I let myself fear, fear would be my + master all the days of my life. But I am not like the others. I am his + dog. I will find him if I live.” + </p> + <p> + “Go, my son, and God be with you,” said the Abbot solemnly. And Padraig + went. + </p> + <p> + He took three days' provision in a leathern bag, and a pike such as the + countrymen used, and headed straight toward the hills. He knew that copper + was to be found in some parts of the range, but why Brother Basil should + go there alone, particularly just at this time, Padraig could not see. + </p> + <p> + He trotted over the slopes of tilled land near the Abbey, forded the + river, circled a pond, and crossed a bog by froglike leaps from hassock to + hassock. In time he came to the base of a steep rocky height, almost a + precipice. On the left was a black mud-hole; to the right were craggy + masses of rock. A long slanting break in the cliff led upward to the left. + He thrust his staff in this and began to climb. + </p> + <p> + Thus far there was no choice, for this was the only direction Brother + Basil could have taken without some one having seen him on the way. From + the height it might be possible to make observations. + </p> + <p> + Only a gossoon of the hills could have gone up the face of the rock as + Padraig did, and he presently found himself on a ledge about twenty feet + up, above the quagmire. It was less than a foot wide at first, but widened + toward the left, and seedling trees had formed a growth which appeared to + merge into the densely wooded hill beyond. He pushed his way along this + insecure foothold until the trees began to thin as if there were an open + space beyond. Then directly in front of him sounded the unmistakable snarl + of a wolf. + </p> + <p> + There was no time to think. He braced himself against the cliff, and + grasping his pike, awaited the assault of the beast. Either he or the + wolf, or both together, would be tumbled into the slough. But there + followed only a guttural word of command in Irish. Then a voice that he + knew called, “Padraig, my son, is that you?” + </p> + <p> + Nothing in heaven or earth could have stopped Padraig then. He broke + through the thicket into the clearing, and halted, breathless and amazed. + </p> + <p> + Brother Basil, unharmed and serene, sat upon a rude wooden bench at the + entrance of a cave, and around him were gathered wolves and wolf-like + human beings clad in wolf-pelts. One, who seemed the leader, stood erect, + broad-shouldered and muscular, in a mantle made of the hide of a giant + wolf, the head shaped into a helmet to be drawn mask-like down over the + face. A fire smoldered in the cave's black throat, and meat—mutton-bones—roasted + on a sharpened stake thrust into a crevice of the rock. An old woman, + wasted and wrinkled, wrapped in a yellow-gray wolfskin lined with lamb's + wool, lay on a pile of leaves near the fire, and savage heads emerging + from the undergrowth might have been those of wolves, or of men in the + guise of wolves. + </p> + <p> + In the craziest legends of the chronicles there was no such scene as this. + For one whirling moment Padraig believed everything he had heard or read + of werewolf or of loup-garou. In the name of Saint Kevin, what could this + be but the very lair of the beast? Yet Brother Basil showed neither fear + nor aversion. Padraig knelt to kiss the outheld hand. + </p> + <p> + “Father,” he faltered, “they sent me to find you.” + </p> + <p> + “It is well that you have come,” the monk answered with his untroubled + smile, “you and no one else. I stumbled upon this place,—really + stumbled, for a stone rolled under my foot,—and here I had to stay + until this troublesome lame knee would permit me to walk.” + </p> + <p> + “That is not the whole of it,” growled the leader of the wolf-people. “Our + dogs winded him, and had he been like any other monk who ever told beads + he would have been pulled down. But he spoke to them in our own tongue, + and my mother, hearing his voice, would have him come to her, for she had + seen no priest for many years. When he heard our story he said that he + would be our friend. And so he would, I believe, had we been what the + foolish have thought us.” + </p> + <p> + “Then,” stammered Padraig, “it is not true that—that—” + </p> + <p> + “That the loup-garou is abroad in the land?” finished Brother Basil with + delicate scorn. “No. Wolves are wolves, and men are men,—and some + men are thieves.” + </p> + <p> + “He means,” snapped the wolf-man, “that one of your own stewards opened + the gates to us, using our tracks to hide his own.” + </p> + <p> + Padraig grinned knowingly. “Simon,” he said. “Simon.” + </p> + <p> + “Even so,” said Brother Basil. + </p> + <p> + “He was very zealous about those wolves,” said Padraig, reflectively, + “especially about using spiritual weapons and not slings and spears + against them. But how—” + </p> + <p> + “It was the thieving of young lambs of the choicest breed that set the + shepherds to thinking there must be more than wolves abroad,” the + wolf-leader went on. “But for your Simon, with his long tongue, they might + have driven us away, for Abbot Cuthbert is no coward, nor has he patience + with cowards. But Simon came upon us one night, when we had broken into + the sheep-fold and were making off, and he was not too frightened to + choose for himself out of what was left. Then when we came again he gave + us the meat we came for, taking certain fine fleeces and lambskins for + himself. We stole as the wild creatures do, for food; we have no use for + parchments or carded wool. We killed as they kill, to fend off our + enemies. The Danish sea-wolves and the armored wild beasts of Strongbow + and de Lacy hunted us as if we were wolves indeed. What could we do but + hunt as the wolves hunt, snatch our meat where we could, hide like foxes + in the holes of the mountain, make ourselves dreaded that we might live, + and not die? The Normans brought to Dermot MacMurragh two hundred heads of + the men of Ossory for his delight. All my mother's children were killed by + them save only myself. Well for you that you are no Norman, young clerk + with the red head, or not the word of a hundred priests had saved you.” + </p> + <p> + “And sooner or later the Norman cross-bows would find you, even as they + search out hart or heron,” interposed Brother Basil sternly. “I have + warned you, Ruric, that this harrying and plundering must cease. Turn from + your wickedness and bear yourselves hereafter as Christian men, and your + souls shall live. And because ye were sorely tried, with God's help a way + may be opened for you to escape your enemies. + </p> + <p> + “Padraig, you see here a remnant of the men of Ossory, whom the Normans + drove into the inhospitable haunts of the forest. The quarry of that evil + hunting ran wild like the dogs who followed their masters. As the country + grew more settled, these half-bred wolf-hounds found out the sheepfolds, + and led their masters to the spoil.” + </p> + <p> + “Even a Norman gives the road to the werewolf,” said the Ossorian with a + harsh laugh. “The mercy they deny to man or wolf, they granted us when + they thought us neither man nor wolf. Aye, we chased them roaring to the + very gates of their castles. Had our own people known the truth some of + them might have betrayed us, being very poor. Therefore, we made it + easiest for them to keep within doors after nightfall, and in this the + priests and monks were of great help. Until you, Father, came to seek us + out, believing that God had thought even for a man who had lost his human + birthright, none hunted or hindered us. We were the masters, being without + hope and without fear of God or man.” + </p> + <p> + “Peace, my son,” said Brother Basil gently. “Padraig, you will go to the + Abbot and tell him what you have seen, and ask him of his charity to + reveal nothing until I return. I would send him a letter, had I not lost + my scrip with my tablets in my encounter with the dogs. Things being as + they were, it would not have been safe to send any of Ruric's folk with a + message.” + </p> + <p> + “No,—not with Simon watching the gate,” agreed Padraig, cheerfully. + “I wonder does he know how many lies he has told in this matter?” + </p> + <p> + “He will have enough to do in accounting to the Abbot for those that are + known,” said Brother Basil with a certain edge to his voice that Padraig + knew well. “I think, however, that he really believes he has had dealings + with the werewolf. There are men who would run, shaking with terror, to + pledge their souls to the foul fiend if they saw their profit in it. If he + knew the truth he could sell his knowledge easily, and I am not disposed + to undeceive him now. Since Ruric gave me his promise to end this evil I + have thought much of the matter, and I believe that the Abbot will approve + my plan. Let him send men with a hurdle to the foot of the cliff + to-morrow. No one need be told more than that I am lame through an + accident.” + </p> + <p> + “Some of them will look foolish when they hear that,” Padraig observed + with satisfaction. “I grieve for your lameness, Father, and yet I could + leap and sing all the way home for joy that it is not as we feared.” + </p> + <p> + “There would be naught to laugh at if any other man had found us out, I + warrant you,” Ruric said gruffly. “The Father won my promise from me by + his gentle and comforting words to my old mother in her distress, for she + feared to die, knowing how we had lived. I had not thought there could be + such fearless faith and kindness in any man. Say to your Abbot moreover + that if he, or you, or any of your folk play us false they will find that + a werewolf can hunt down anything that runs.” + </p> + <p> + “If I deceived ye,” Padraig answered gravely, “I would throw myself + straightway into the river to cheat your vengeance.” As he tightened the + straps of his sandals he looked once more at the strange and savage + assembly. There were some thirty men and women and several half-grown + youngsters, garbed in wolfskins so shaped as to leave them free to run or + climb. Shoes were skilfully fashioned like a great wolf-paw; skins were + joined so cunningly that when the wearer loped along a hillside in the + chill pale gold of the winter sunset, or skulked among the shadows of + summer woods, any one would swear that what he saw was a lurking wolf. The + wolf-mask with its long muzzle and furry ears concealed the face, the + unshorn beards and hair mingled with the shaggy shoulder-fur of the + tunics. A shepherd looking for missing lambs would find only wolf-tracks + to guide him. Traps had been sprung or smashed, storehouses rifled, + watchdogs killed. Even the hard-headed and harder-hearted Norman huntsmen + turned back one day, when they discovered their hounds baying at the foot + of a tree. + </p> + <p> + Padraig knew all about the slaughter done by Dermot MacMurragh and his + Norman allies, up and down Ossory. Fierce in their despair, vengeful in + their cunning, these refugees had run wild like their dogs. The huge + untamed brutes were stronger than collies and wiser than wolves, and + nothing could have kept them from raiding any sheepfold that they scented. + </p> + <p> + The Abbot heard Padraig's story through without comment, his eyes blazing + under their shaggy brows. If any one but Brother Basil had asked him to + stay his hand, he would not have given two thoughts to it, but it was + Brother Basil, and the matter must be considered. + </p> + <p> + “These men,” he said grimly, “are outlaws, red-handed robbers. They have + broken the law of God and man. They deserve justice, not mercy.” + </p> + <p> + “If they can be caught,” ventured Padraig. + </p> + <p> + “You think they cannot be taken?” + </p> + <p> + Padraig shook his head. “I stood as near them as I am to you, and I did + not see them until they wished to be seen. They run like foxes and climb + like cats. They will be killed or kill themselves, every man and woman of + them, rather than be taken. Were it not better they should live like + christened souls than be hunted like beasts?” + </p> + <p> + The Abbot rose and began to pace the floor. “Go, my son,” he said not + unkindly, “and send Simon, the steward, to me.” + </p> + <p> + But Simon was not to be found. Brother Mark, the librarian, being of a + distrustful disposition, had been asking many questions of late regarding + the parchments prepared for the scriptorium. Simon had perhaps taken + fright. He had not returned, in any case, from the nearest market-town, + whither he had gone that morning. When it was found that everything upon + which he could lay his hands had gone with him, some of the brethren were + inclined to think the whole werewolf panic an invention of the steward's + to hide his thieving. Padraig went to the foot of the cliff, accompanied + by two men with a hurdle, and found Brother Basil safe and in good + spirits, but neither wolf, wolfling nor wolf-man was to be seen. Not so + much as the sound of a wolf's howling was heard about the sheep-folds, and + shepherds and sheep-dogs tended the lambs that spring undisturbed. There + were those who said that the werewolves had been driven away by the + prayers of Brother Basil when he visited the forest. After awhile a legend + grew up and was told to the Welsh clerk Giraldus, about a werewolf who met + a priest in the forest and begged him to give Christian aid and comfort to + his dying mate. The story goes that the priest remained all night + conversing with the unfortunate man, who behaved rather as a man than as a + wolf. + </p> + <p> + When spring stirred the travel on the Irish roads a party of forest folk + appeared one day at the Abbey and asked for baptism. Their children had, + it appeared, grown up in the wilderness without knowledge of religion. + Such things were not unheard of in those days, and after baptism the party + went down to the seaport and took ship for England, where they lived for + some years in the service of a Norman knight, Hugh l'Estrange. When + finally a sort of peace was patched up in Ireland between the Normans and + the Irish chiefs, Ruric and his folk returned. But no more was heard of + the wolves of Ossory. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ST. HUGH AND THE BIRDS + + When good Saint Hugh of Lincoln + Was a boy in Avalon, + He knew the birds and their houses + And loved them every one, + Merle and mavis and grosbeak, + Gay goshawk, and even the wren,— + When he took Saint Benedict's service + It wasn't the least different then! + “They taught me to sing to my Lord,” quo' he, + “And to dig for my food i' the mould + And whithersoever my wits might flee, + To come in out o' the cold.” + + When wise Saint Hugh of Lincoln + Was a bishop wi' crosier tall, + A wild swan flew from the marshes + Over the cloister wall, + Crooked its neck to be fondled— + Giles, that was vain of his wit, + Said, “Here is a half-made Bishop!” + —But the Saint never smiled a bit! + “My swan will fight for his lord,” quo' he, + “And remember what he has heard. + He flies to my gatepost and waits for me— + My friends, make a friend of the bird!” + </pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VIII. — THE ROAD OF THE WILD SWAN + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Four larders God gave man, four shall there ever be— + The mountain, the valley, the marsh, and the sea.” + </pre> + <p> + Roger hummed the old rhyme absent-mindedly and then took to whistling the + air, while his small strong fingers pulled and knotted at the hawk's lure + he was making. Just now the training of young falcons was absorbing all of + his leisure time. The falconer, Marcel, had showed him how to make the + lure, which was shaped something like a pair of wings made of quilted + leather and thickly fledged with the wing-feathers of game-birds. When the + falconer, who carried it fastened to his wrist by a long cord, gave it a + peculiar toss in the air, it looked very like a flying bird. He did this, + giving at the same time a certain call, when he wished to bring back the + hawk or falcon after flight. + </p> + <p> + This particular lure was intended for the education of a young merlin of + great beauty and promise, destined for Eleanor's use. The merlin was a + type of falcon well adapted to a lady's purpose, and hawking parties were + common among the Norman-English families of the neighborhood—often + including dames and demoiselles who flew their own falcons. Roger was + rather proud of the fact that Eleanor could ride as well almost as he + could, and was quite as fearless. The bright-eyed sleek-plumaged Mabonde + had been her pet for weeks, and would already answer her call and eat from + her hand. The little round bells of silver, the jesses and hood of Spanish + leather, for the falcon's hunting-gear (Sir Walter's gift) were laid away + in Eleanor's own coffret. She looked forward happily to riding forth some + day with the falcon perched on her small gloved fist, alert for flight. + </p> + <p> + “Roger,” she said, frowning a little in her puzzle, “that song is true + enough, about the mountains and the valleys and the sea—the river, + that is,—but what do we get out of the marsh? You can't even go in + there with a boat.” + </p> + <p> + Roger sloped whistling and gave the matter thought. “We get something out + of it when we go hawking,” he decided. “Herons and swans and ducks and + wild geese,—widgeon,—all sorts of water-birds nest there. + Maybe there used to be other game—when they made the song.” + </p> + <p> + Most of Sir Walter's domain was fertile valley, dense forest or barren + moorland, but there was an area of marsh whose usefulness was not yet + clear. A swampy shallow strip was thick with osiers from the blown catkins + of the pollard willows; reeds grew thick as wheat and higher than a man's + head—if any man could have walked on the black oozy quagmire; and as + Roger had said, the water-fowl, secure from dogs or bowmen, were nested in + that wet paradise by scores. There was a heronry among the trees on the + edge of it, but otherwise the marsh was not used save as a storehouse for + the basket-makers. They made paniers, hampers, mews or wicker cages in + which the hunting birds were kept when moulting, and even small boats from + the osiers and reeds. But the greater part of the swamp was impassable to + a boat and too insecure for foot-travel. In very rainy weather any one + looking down upon it from a height could see that there was a sort of + islet in the middle, but no one could have reached it with a boat unless + in flood-time; and in very dry weather, when some of the ridges lay + uncovered, the water-channels became thick black mud. + </p> + <p> + Nothing in all this, however, gave serious cause for uneasiness. A natural + preserve for game-birds was a good thing to have. Forty or fifty varieties + of water-fowl were found on Norman tables at one time or another. The + objection to that marsh was that it was too convenient a refuge for + runaways. + </p> + <p> + The serfs upon the land were not slaves, in the sense of being bought and + sold like cattle. They belonged with the land. A nobleman who became owner + of an estate took over with it the right to the obedience and service of + its people. When he had a proper sense of his own obligations there was + very little trouble, as a rule. If the shock-haired peasants toiled and + sweated over the building of a castle, their own thatched cottages were so + much the safer from invading enemies. If they paid rent in grain, cattle + and fowls they shared in the feasting and gayety on any great occasion. + The castle, with its large household and numerous guests, was a market for + the neighborhood. It gave the people a chance of winning a better living + than the stubborn soil alone would yield. Children growing up knew that if + a boy could ride or fight or do any sort of work especially well, his lord + would have use for him; if a girl could spin, weave, sew or had a knack + with poultry, her lady would have a place for her. The country folk + hereabouts had grown proud of belonging to the Giffard lands. + </p> + <p> + There were exceptions. One was Tammuz at the Ford. He and his + black-a-vised kinfolk had little to do with the villagers, and the village + had even less to do with them. It was said that they occasionally helped + themselves to a sucking-pig, a fowl, or other produce, and if punishment + was attempted, were none too good to burn ricks and maim cattle. It was + said also that they had a hiding place in the swamp. + </p> + <p> + If the marsh became a den of runaway serfs it would not be well for the + peace of the neighborhood. Sir Walter Giffard's patience was growing + short. He thought of draining the marsh if possible, when the reeds could + be burned and the land reclaimed. + </p> + <p> + In this way many a fenny district of England had been made into fat + meadow-land by patient and efficient monks. The knight was glad to + encounter one day in a neighboring castle a Carthusian prior whom he had + once known in Normandy,—Hugh of Avalon. He invited this churchman to + visit him and discuss this and more important matters. It so happened that + soon after his arrival Marcel the falconer, Eleanor and Roger, and the + squires, Ralph Courtenay and John Lake, were going to try the young + falcons on the border of the marsh. There was nothing strange in Sir + Walter Giffard suggesting that he and Prior Hugh ride along with the + party, for hawking was a sport considered very suitable for churchmen. But + on the way to the marsh the knight and the Prior paid little attention to + the diversion of falconry. They were deep in consideration of the best way + to drain the swamp and deal with it generally. + </p> + <p> + Eleanor's heart beat fast as they neared the heronry. It was not a heron, + however, which claimed the maiden flight of Mabonde. It was a woodcock + flushed in the edge of a copse. Instantly Roger unhooded the cherished + hunting-bird, Eleanor gave her a toss into the air, and both sat their + horses, eagerly watching her flight. Aloft she soared, the little bells + singing like fairy chimes—then dropped like a plummet. There was a + ripple in the undergrowth where she pounced, she was recalled to her + perch, and presently Marcel, smiling broadly, came up with the woodcock, + its gray-brown feathers hardly even ruffled, though it was quite dead. + </p> + <p> + Then Eleanor remembered something. “Oh!” she said pitifully. “O-h!” + </p> + <p> + She was recalling a summer day when she and Roger had startled a mother + and her chicks from their nest of dead leaves among the grass, the + cleverness with which the tiny balls of fluff had matched themselves with + the foliage and the utter audacity of the mother bird as she carried them + off one by one to safety, under the very eyes of her giant foes. And now + she was setting Mabonde to kill those dainty chicks for her own pleasure! + </p> + <p> + Roger had gone off with the squires after a tercel of which great things + were expected, but Sir Walter Giffard, coming up just then, caught sight + of his daughter's woe-begone face. “What is the matter, my little maid?” + he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing,” Eleanor answered, swallowing with some difficulty and winking + very fast, “but—I—don't think I care to hunt any more to-day, + father. Will you please take Mabonde?” + </p> + <p> + The knight's eyebrows lifted rather quizzically, but he did not question + this sudden decision. “Ride with me instead, daughter,” he said kindly, + and Eleanor, very subdued and thoughtful, paced along by her father's + side. + </p> + <p> + On the edge of the fen a cottager came out to beg audience of the knight, + and the Prior began talking with Eleanor about the birds of that region. + She found that he knew them both by their French and English names, and + seemed to love them well. He told her that in the Carthusian monastery he + lived, as did the other monks, in a little cell opening on a narrow + garden-plot. In this garden he toiled during certain hours each day, + tending the pulse, kale, and herbs which made a great part of his food. + One evening a little bird came to share his simple supper, and returned + each day. He fed her, and she earned her food by keeping his garden clear + of grubs, worms and insects. Then for a long time she did not appear. He + feared she had been killed, but at last she came proudly back with three + nestlings just able to fly. This monk had always from his boyhood had + bird-companions. The latest was a wild swan that came out of the marshes + to follow him about. When he went away the swan would disappear in the + marsh, but watched for his return and was always there to welcome him. + </p> + <p> + “Sometimes I think,” he added, half to Eleanor and half to her father, + “that there are people like that in this ancient stubbed land—men + like the bittern and the eagle, who will not be tamed. They come to you + sometimes, but they will not be driven.” + </p> + <p> + “I see,” said the knight thoughtfully. “But what of a man who will take a + gift with one hand and thieve with the other?” + </p> + <p> + “Some men,” said Hugh of Avalon, “are your friends because you have done + them service, but now and then one is bound to you by service he has done + you—and that is the stronger tie. My swan would not love me as he + does if he came only to be fed.” + </p> + <p> + The cottager had been complaining that Tammuz and his tribe had been + destroying his crops, and wished them punished. The knight had ridden over + to see, and came back doubtful. He said to the cottager that it did not + seem to him like the work of a spiteful neighbor. Was it not possible that + some four-footed creature had ravaged the crops? The cottager did not + believe that it was. He was sure it was Tammuz. Neither knew that a lean + black-haired peasant, lying along close to the limb of a great beech tree, + had heard every word of the conversation and also witnessed the little + scene with the falcon. + </p> + <p> + The marsh was very dry, and Sir Walter had a mind to ride into it a little + way and see how far one could really go. If wild hogs were rooting about + the place it would be well to know it. Bidding Eleanor wait for him in the + tiny clearing, he and the Prior pushed their horses in among the reeds + where a ridge offered a fair foothold. Marcel, the squires and Roger were + not far off, having great sport. + </p> + <p> + Roger was rather disappointed in Eleanor. If she objected to killing + things, why had she been so happy to come, and so fond of her falcon? The + truth was that Eleanor had never thought of Mabonde as a cruel bird. It + was the nature of a falcon to kill its own food. The spice of danger in + the keen talons and fierce beak made her pet even a little more + fascinating. But it seemed different, somehow, when she herself sent the + merlin forth to kill. As she sat waiting for her father, she felt that + never again would she wish to fly falcon at quarry. + </p> + <p> + There was a grunting and squealing, a rustle and crash in the tangled + undergrowth of the bog, and an immense black boar stumbled out into the + open and charged straight at Eleanor's horse. The startled animal reared + and sprang, Marcel and the squires spurred in toward the clearing and + checked the great brute on that side, and Eleanor had all she could do to + avoid being thrown directly into the path of the furious beast. It seemed + incredible that anything so heavy on such short legs and small hoofs could + move so quickly. The wild boar's tusks, several inches long and sharp as + razors through constant tearing and whetting, slashed viciously at the + terrified horse, and in that cramped space his rage was as deadly as a + lion's. Then a roughly-clad, wild-looking peasant dropped from a limb on + the very back of the creature and sunk his knife to the hilt in its thick + bristling neck. With a snort it bolted into the marsh, just as Sir Walter + and the Prior came out a little distance away and the falconer and the + squires came up on the other side. The peasant, who had swung himself up + into another tree, slid to earth and stood staring sulkily, as if half + minded to follow his late adversary to cover. + </p> + <p> + The knight and the Prior were pale as ghosts, Marcel was shaking from head + to foot, and the lads gazed at Eleanor as if she had come back from the + dead. She almost had. It was an exceedingly narrow escape. Any one but a + very good rider must have been thrown. The wicked tusks of the wild boar + will easily kill a strong hunting-dog, and the tough, hard hide was almost + like armor. Rarely did a boar-hunt end without the killing of at least one + dog and the wounding of a hunter. If there had been the slightest reason + to think that such danger lurked in the swamp, the knight would never have + left Eleanor where he did. But the herd of wild hogs had evidently been + living on the high ground in the middle, and not come out until this + drought gave them foothold. + </p> + <p> + Sir Walter beckoned to Tammuz, and the man came like a half-tamed dog, + eyeing his lord warily. “You have given me more than mine own life this + day, Tammuz of the Ford,” he said a trifle unsteadily. “Kneel.” And then + and there Tammuz received his freedom and a hide of land for his own and + his children's after him. + </p> + <p> + In the following months many hidden things came to light. Tammuz and his + people had enjoyed many a good meal of the flesh of the wild hog, which is + better than that of common swine. They had not encouraged strangers to + come about, partly from a natural dislike to company and partly because + they did not wish to be held responsible for anything that might happen. A + boar-hunt, even with the big powerful mastiffs and the best of steel + spears, was dangerous enough to be called the sport of kings, and it was + only through long practice and unusual strength and agility that the + marshmen had been able to kill any of the herd at all. + </p> + <p> + The first time that Tammuz ever entered the castle was on the night of the + grand boar-hunt after the marsh was drained, when Sir John Courtenay, Sir + Guilhem de Grantmesnil, Sir Yves de Vescey, and King Henry himself with + several of his courtiers, went forth to slay the monster of the marsh, and + the head of the three-hundred-pound brute was borne in triumph into the + hall. The second time was on a dark night a little later, when he slipped + in at the gate, no one knew how, and asked to see Sir Walter Giffard. + </p> + <p> + It was a serious tale he had to tell. The Welsh were on their way to + invade England, knowing that the King was between Shrewsbury and Chester + and had no very great force with him. Tammuz was among the disaffected + peasants who had been relied upon to aid the enemy. But for a long time + now he had had growing doubts about lending his aid to such work. He was + neither blind nor foolish, and he could not help seeing that the people of + the farms and hamlets dwelt in greater security and comfort than they ever + had before that he could remember. He was well aware also that if the + Welsh crossed the border the lords of the frontier castles would suffer, + whoever else did or did not. When Tammuz thought of the brave and spirited + little maiden who had had pity on the woodcock her falcon killed, and her + gracious mother who had nursed sick children and heard the troubles of the + poor, ever since she came to that rude land, he did not like to think of + the torch and the pike of the half-barbaric Welsh let loose upon the + valley. Therefore he had finally made up his mind to come and warn his + lord of the peril in good season. + </p> + <p> + The knight wasted no time. He sent swift messengers to rouse the + neighboring castles, armed guards turned out to patrol the marches, + another messenger rode eastward to call the King and his troops to the + threatened border. Moreover, the Norman lords did not wait for invasion; + they made the first move themselves. They had no mind to risk their people + and their homes if the thing could be avoided. Thanks to Tammuz, they knew + in what direction the enemy might be expected, and some of the Welsh + chiefs, seeing what was afoot, refused to join in the war at all. + </p> + <p> + The actual trial of strength took place on bare moorland some ten miles + from the castle of the Giffards. From the battlements it was possible to + see in a very distant way what went on. Lady Philippa, Eleanor and Roger + stood together at a high window, and saw morions glitter in the sun, + lances ranged like an orderly mass of reeds, and at last the King's banner + dipping and lifting over the uneven ground as his reenforcements rode up. + Then far through the fine cold air came trumpet-calls, and the enemy + emerged from their cover in the woods. In comparison with the disciplined + and controlled forces of the English, they seemed a motley rabble. + Moreover, the Norman crossbowmen and the English archers with their long + bows had the pike-bearing Welsh at a terrible disadvantage. This Roger + explained, hopping with excitement, for he was full of information + gathered from Ralph the bowyer, his firm friend. + </p> + <p> + The battle was a brief one. Before sunset Sir Walter Giffard and his men + came riding home to tell of a speedy and easy victory. + </p> + <p> + “'Tis all the better,” said the knight, as Lady Philippa helped him remove + his armor. “There is no use in chasing these half-wild chiefs through + their forests. Some day perhaps they will come to us of their own accord. + They know now that it is hopeless to attempt to beat us back from our own + frontier, and I think they will not readily try it again. There is wisdom + in Hugh of Avalon. As he says,—the truest service ever comes by the + road of the wild swan.” + </p> + <p> + THE LANCES + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Straight stood we with our brethren in the wood— + High-crested, strong, and proud, + Fearing no fury of the threatening storm— + Our chanting voices loud + Rose to the mighty bourdon of the gale, + The yelling tempest or the raging sea, + Chanting and prophesying of great days + In centuries yet to be. + + The falcon flying down the windy sky, + The swallow poised and darting in the sun, + The guillemot beating seaward through the mist— + We knew them every one, + And heard from them of trumpets wakening war, + Of steadfast beams that roofed our people warm, + Of ships that blindfold through uncharted seas + Triumphant rode the storm. + + Now come we to the battle of our dreams,— + The trumpets neigh, the ranks are closing fast + In that stern silence that men keep who know + This hour may be their last— + That they, like us, may riven and useless lie + Ere once again the bright steel greets the sun. + This only pray we—that we may not die + Until our work be done. +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IX. — THE SWORD OF DAMASCUS + </h2> + <p> + Dickon the smith stood under the great oak tree that sheltered the forge, + weary and sick at heart. There was no better man of his inches in all + Sussex, but the world is not always good to see, even at nineteen. + Dickon's world had been empty ever since the departure of Audrey of the + Borstall Farm, cousin to Edwitha, the wife of his friend Wilfrid the + Potter. + </p> + <p> + Audrey had made one brief visit to her old home since she had gone to be a + maid to Lady Adelicia Giffard, and in that time not only Dickon but other + youths of the neighborhood had found her comely. Tall and straight and + lissome, with the blue eyes and yellow hair of her people, white as milk + and fair as a wild rose, she was a girl to be remembered—Audrey. But + she cared for none of them and went back to Winchester with her lady. + Since that time Sussex had been no home for Dickon. + </p> + <p> + He had learned all that any smith of those parts could teach him and all + that he could teach himself, or he might have set his mind to his work. To + Dickon work was more than bread and meat; it was the heart of life. Now + his unquiet mind returned to an old ambition of his, to be a master + armorer. This desire dated from a day in his early teens, when in his + father's absence a Templar stopped to have his horse shod. Dickon could + shoe horses as well as anybody. But when the knight wished a bit of + repairing done on his helmet it was beyond the lad's knowledge, and the + work had to wait until old Adam Smith came back from Lewes. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile Dickon had eyed with a great fascination the Templar's sword, a + magnificent piece of steel-work, blade and scabbard ornamented with + curious inlay-work of gold. He dared not ask about it even if he could + have made his question understood. The knight spoke only Norman and a + little mixed French and English, and Dickon knew scarcely a word of any + language but Saxon. When his father had come home and the knight had gone + on his way, Dickon asked eager questions. + </p> + <p> + “'Tis a sword of Damascus,” the old smith said shortly. “Belike he got it + where he's been—in the Holy Land.” + </p> + <p> + “Is't holy work then?” The boy knew as much of Palestine as he did of the + planet Mars, the folk of his acquaintance being little given to + pilgrimage. + </p> + <p> + Adam Smith snorted. “Nay, 'tis paynim work. Damascus is a heathen city. I + mind somebody telling me that the only man that could forge that steel had + been carried off to another country, so that no more of it could be made. + They have a won'erful knowledge of metal-work, those infidels.” + </p> + <p> + “Belike Satan taught 'em,” grunted Wat of the Weald. “I don't hold wi' + such trickery myself.” + </p> + <p> + Adam straightened his back and shook his white head. “Satan never did work + as good as yon sword,” he chuckled. “'Tis a joy to the touch. Nay, lad, + Satan teaches men to be idle—that's his cunning.” + </p> + <p> + Dickon grinned, for Wat was never known to work save when driven, and like + many others of his temper, looked at all devices for the increase of + output with disfavor. Evidently there was no light on the subject of + Damascus blades to be gained here, but the boy never forgot the look of + that sword. + </p> + <p> + As he grew up he saw and heard other things which fitted in with the + memory—Toledo blades that were said to be Moorish work, damascened + and jeweled daggers, now and then a piece of splendid armor worn in + tournaments where royalty itself looked on—Milanese and Spanish work + rich with gold. But always the keenest edge and finest steel came of that + mysterious heathen forging. Now, thinking of Audrey out in the great + world, he determined to see that world for himself and find out whether + he, a common smith's son, had any chance of learning the secrets of the + Armorer's Guild. + </p> + <p> + Winchester was a greater city than he had any idea it would be, but he + found his way to the house of Lady Adelicia only to learn that she had + gone to Normandy, taking with her some of her household. Audrey, her own + waiting-woman, had gone with her. Dickon went down to Southampton and took + passage to Calais. He had not much money, but a smith as good as he was + could get a living almost anywhere. There were plenty of English in + Normandy, for both that province and Aquitaine were fiefs held by the King + of England as a vassal of the King of France. It was often said that the + vassal in this case held more land than his lord. + </p> + <p> + Without much trouble Dickon found the Norman castle he sought, but to his + dismay, the lady was just about to set out on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. + Sir Stephen Giffard, her husband, had been fighting against the Moors in + Spain, and she feared that he was dead. She had decided upon this + pilgrimage in the hope that her prayers and offerings at the shrine of Our + Lady might avail to bring her husband back to her. + </p> + <p> + The Sussex youth used all his powers of language, which were limited, and + all his strength of will, which was great, in trying to induce Audrey to + leave service and go home to her people. Audrey was quiet, but she was as + set as Blackcap Down. + </p> + <p> + “'Tis not my own fancy, Dickon,” she pleaded at last, her blue eyes dim + with tears. “I ha' no love for strange lands,—nor strange folk + neither. But my lady has been ever kind to me, and she is in great + trouble. If she fall ill on the journey there is none but me that knows + her ways. I should ha' no peace if I left her in strange hands. 'Tis my + duty, Dickon. There's no two ways of duty for any christened soul.” + </p> + <p> + Dickon grew bolder at the sight of those tears. “Audrey,” he said, “when + you come back, and your lady is among her own folk again—then will + you break the silver penny with me?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said Audrey shyly and quickly, her eyes downcast, “I'll do that now, + if ye like,—Dickon, lad.” + </p> + <p> + So they broke the coin and each kept half, and said farewell, she for the + sake of her duty and he for the sake of his own honor, which was bound up + with hers. But after she had gone away he was troubled by many doubts + whether he should not have held on, and made her come with him in spite of + herself. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile he had no mind to return to England, and found work where he + was. The little shop of Gaston of Abbeville would have interested any lad + in love with the armorer's trade, and it had more attraction for Dickon + than anything else he had found in that place. Wedged in, like a nutshell + in the jaws of a nutcracker, between a round tower built by Rollo's men + and the far older wall of a Roman basilica, it was partly built of Norman + stone-work and partly of oak. Set close to the old Roman road through + Gaul, it was in view of any knight or squire or man-at-arms who went by, + and it was so arranged that all the contents could be seen at a glance. + </p> + <p> + The heavy and bulky forge and tools of an English smithy were not to be + seen. Since horses were not shod there, little room was needed, and the + armorer could lay his hand on any tool he needed without taking more than + a step or two. Hammer, tongs, bellows and other belongings not at the + moment in use were hung tidily on the walls. Some of these were most + skillfully shaped to their use, and also ornamented with carving on the + handles. The carving was not only decorative but was so designed as to + give a firmer hold to the hand. + </p> + <p> + Along the upper part of the rear wall and the end wall on the right, + supported on corbels of stone, was a narrow gallery, built of oak, the + front carved in a series of open interlacing arches. Inside this were + suits of costly armor, and weapons of especial value, which the armorer + kept for sale. A flight of steps closed in by a paneled oaken partition + descended from this gallery to the ground, and on each step was the + straight demure figure of a carved saint in a pointed arch like a shrine. + At the foot the stairway was closed by a door of seasoned oak reenforced + by wrought iron hinges extending almost across its width. When this door + was fastened the treasures in the gallery were safe from thieves. A little + wall-shrine of carved, painted and gilded wood, on the opposite wall, held + a statuette of Saint Eloi, the patron of metal-workers. In short, the + shop, though small, had been made beautiful with the care of one who loved + and reverenced his work. + </p> + <p> + When Dickon halted there at the close of a dusty summer day Gaston was + engaged in some work for a knight of Saint John, which must be done that + night and needed four hands in place of two. The armorer was doing it all + himself, with the skill of a master-workman, but using much picturesque + French language to relieve his mind. + </p> + <p> + It did not take a minute after Dickon got a hammer in his hand, for + Gaston's frown to change to a broad and satisfied smile. Here was a helper + after his own ideas—strong, deft, and no talker. Like many men who + love talk for its own sake the master was not fond of chatterboxes. The + job was finished in good and workmanlike fashion, and Gaston, who knew + some English, went on talking while he attended to other odd matters and + waited for his customer. + </p> + <p> + “If you want to see the world—this is your place. . . . There's not + much that goes along this road that doesn't come to Gaston of Abbeville + some day. . . . Damaskeening? You'll see as much damaskeened work here as + you could in Damascus. . . . Look here, my lad, if you're in want of work, + stay with me till snowfall and see the pilgrims, and the knights, and the + bowmen, and the free companions with their plunder, go by to the sea. Then + ye may go on to Damascus if you're still set on the place, with some hope + of not losing your way.” + </p> + <p> + This seemed to Dickon a rather good idea. In his brief sojourn in + Abbeville he had come to see the difficulty of travel in a land where no + one understands your questions. + </p> + <p> + It was as Gaston said. People of all races, kinds and conditions traveled + the highway that ran past the armorers' shop. Once Guy Bouverel, whom + Dickon had met once or twice at Wilfrid's house, gave him surprised and + pleased greeting. A little later came Padraig, the Irish clerk, on his way + to Rouen. Padraig somehow learned about Audrey in the few hours he spent + there. + </p> + <p> + “I thought 'twas more than hammer and tongs that took you out of Sussex,” + he said. “I wish ye luck, but there's no knowing, Dickon, what they will + do when they are seized with this pilgrimage fever.” + </p> + <p> + “'Tis not the lass, 'tis her lady,” Dickon muttered, his head in his + hands. “And the worst o't is that I can do nothing but think of her away + there among the paynim. A fine lady's train has no call for such as me.” + </p> + <p> + Padraig's brows lifted in humorous but sympathetic understanding. “I see,” + he said. “I'll tell the maid, if I see her, that she'll find none so well + worth her while among Saracens—or pilgrims either.” + </p> + <p> + There was a great jousting at Crecy a little later, and Gaston went there + to deal with certain knights and princes among the tilters, and left the + shop in Dickon's charge. Restless with the magic of a summer night after + he had barred the little place, he wandered away over the white ancient + road. He lay down on a grassy bank, where boughs laden with drifting + blossoms hung over an orchard wall, and looked up at the stars, thinking. + </p> + <p> + “'Tes like what they tell of the Saracens' magic,” he said half aloud, + “this that makes a man do what's clean against his own will.” + </p> + <p> + “Hammer not cold iron, friend,” said a deep voice near by. “Saracen magic + is naught save the wisdom of necessity, and that we all learn in our + time.” + </p> + <p> + Dickon looked up at a tall man in a traveler's cloak, who had come through + the gate in the wall just then. The upper part of the face was hidden by + the hood, but the mouth wore a quiet smile. The voice was that of a + knight, and Dickon got to his feet and bowed. “I know not what you were + thinking of when you spoke of Saracen magic,” the stranger went on, “but I + would I could find an armorer for a bit of work on my dagger. 'Tis a + Damascus blade, but there's no gramarye in it, I promise you.” + </p> + <p> + This was something to do at any rate. “An't please you, my lord,” Dickon + said quickly, “I am journeyman to Gaston of Abbeville, who is counted the + best armorer in these parts. I may be able for the work if 'tis not too + skillful.” + </p> + <p> + “I could do it myself,” the knight said carelessly, “if I had but the fire + and tools. I came but an hour ago, and I must go on to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + The two went back to the shop, and the fire was kindled, a torch was set + in a wrought-iron wall-cresset, and the work begun. Dickon saw with + surprise that the knight himself had no small knowledge of the craft of + the armorer. + </p> + <p> + The dagger was of the finest Saracen steel work, the haft inlaid with + gold. Inside it the knight wished to conceal some jewels of no very great + value, in a hollow made for the purpose and opened by twisting a round + boss on the hilt. This was often done by travelers, since a man's dagger + was his companion day and night, and in case of disaster he might thus + have at hand the means to pay his way. + </p> + <p> + “That blade,” the knight observed, trying its edge, “was the gift of a + Saracen emir I made friends with beyond Damascus. Nay, look not so amazed, + lad. They are no more wizards than you or I.” + </p> + <p> + He must have divined the questions trembling on Dickon's lips, for when + the work was done he still sat in the doorway and seemed in no haste to + go. The white moon flooded the place and with the glow of the brazier made + curious blended lights and shadows. The knight had thrown aside his cloak, + and showed himself bronzed, keen-faced and active, like one who had done + his part both in council-hall and camp. “It is like this,” he went on, + clasping his knee with brown strong hands. “This Christendom of ours is + all ringed round with heathenesse—Moors, Danes, Bulgars, Arabs, + Turks—peoples white, brown, black, but caring naught for those + things which are dear and precious to Christian men and women. I have been + where the beacons flashed from hill to hill along the shore of Britain to + warn the villages of Danish pirates. I have seen the Moors from Barbary + come swarming over the borders of Granada and Andalusia until the + Christians were all but driven back into the mountains. Our faith is not + their faith, our oaths are not their oaths, nor our ways their ways. + </p> + <p> + “Now the paynim of the desert live not in towns and cities as we do, but + in tents. The wealth of a chief is in his flocks and herds,—sheep + and goats, camels, the swift desert horses. The wealth of a sultan is in + the lances he can call to his banner in time of war, under their own + leaders. There is only one war-cry that makes one host of them all, and + that is 'Allah-hu!' Saladin might promise ten times over, and thousands of + his subjects would never know it or be bound by it. And what can you do + when a promise is of no value? + </p> + <p> + “It is the same with the heathen who come raiding over the North Sea. They + plunder and pillage as they list, whether it be palace, abbey or nunnery + that lies in their way. Honor has no meaning to those who prey on the + helpless.” + </p> + <p> + “My lord,” said Dickon hesitatingly, “you mean that—that—honor + is for all men—though they take no vows?” + </p> + <p> + The stranger's voice rang like steel on steel. “Honor is for all true men—and + women—king or knight, merchant or peasant, bond or free. A slave may + be loyal to his master—the master must keep faith with the slave. + Christ died for all—for their souls, not their houses of stone or + brick or timber. Do you think, if He were on earth now, He would choose to + be served only by those of gentle blood?” + </p> + <p> + This was a new thought to Dickon, though he had always known the stories + of the healing of the blind and the leprous, and the birth at Bethlehem. + The knight went on, rising and taking up his cloak, “As for the magic you + have heard of, it is nothing but the practice of centuries. The desert + chiefs, from whom the Moslems are mostly descended, are ever wandering + from place to place, where their beasts can find grazing. Hence all their + wealth must be carried on pack saddles. They can make with their + many-colored shawls and rugs a palace out of a tent pitched for the night. + They work leather, iron, brass, because this can be done without long stay + in any one place. And when a people can have but few luxuries they grow + very skillful in the making of those few. They carry their wisdom in such + matters, as they do their wealth, wherever they go, and hand it down from + father to son. That is all the sorcery they use. + </p> + <p> + “I have told you these things because a man should have neither overmuch + fear nor any contempt for his enemy, and these paynim are, or may be at + any time, our enemies. Our faith must be as this dagger, ready for service + by day or night, but for defense, not for assassination. Since Saladin has + come to the throne there is a stirring among the tribes that worship the + false prophet, and they may be once more dreaming that they may conquer + the world for Islam. They can never do it, but they may force us to + another Crusade in time. I am on my way to England now to make report to + the King of what I have seen. I hope that some day we may meet there. If + ever you want work, Sir Gualtier Giffard on the Welsh border will bid you + welcome if you say that you were sent by Hugh l'Estrange.” + </p> + <p> + Moved by sudden impulse Dickon told in a few words the story of Audrey's + service and their promise. The knight held out his hand in open + kindliness. “You did well,” he said. “Every man who keeps faith with his + neighbor, every good soldier, every wise and gentle monk, and more than + all, every true woman, is a link in a great chain that makes for the + safety of Christendom. A token is a small thing,—yes—but what + is our Cross itself but a token? I would wish my own lad Roger to have + acted as you did.” + </p> + <p> + AWAKENING + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Before the snows are melted that cradle the mountain streams, + Before the bear and the dormouse rouse from their winter dreams, + Before the earliest linnet flutes forth his roundel clear, + There comes an authentic moment that marks the turn of the year. + + A brightness in the sunshine, a hint of life in the air, + A soft mist veiling the hilltops that were so brown and bare, + Nothing to note or ponder, nothing to see or hear,— + But there is a mystic difference that marks the turn of the year! + + Light as the wings of a sea-mew in the rush of startled flight, + Cool as the touch of clover, shy as the dews of night, + Strong as the love of freedom, sudden as panic fear, + The restless gypsy longing wakes at the turn of the year. + + Why do we toil and swelter over the task we hate? + What is to keep us fettered to the benches of sullen Fate? + There is nothing half so fleeting,—there is nothing half so dear + As the unfulfilled desire that comes with the turn of the year! +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + X. — FOOLS' GOLD + </h2> + <p> + “Yes,” acknowledged old Tomaso thoughtfully, “I knew Archiater of + Byzantium very well at one time,—and yet no one ever really knew + much about him. He was more than a clever alchemist,—he was a + discoverer of secrets, and a good man. But for all that, he was condemned + and executed as a wizard.” + </p> + <p> + Alan of York said nothing for a minute, but his fist clenched where it lay + on the table. “How could such a thing happen?” he said at last in a low + voice. + </p> + <p> + “Naturally enough, when wisdom must ever contend against the whelming + force of folly. But there is something worse—the will of a ruler + seeking to enslave knowledge to his own purpose. A madman with ideals is + bad enough, but Barbarossa's son is a diabolically sane person without + any. A man is not called 'the Cruel' without reason.” + </p> + <p> + “But what object—” Alan began, and paused. + </p> + <p> + “Archiater the physician, as I knew him, would have been rather worse than + useless to that prince as I have heard of him,” answered the Paduan + deliberately. “Such a patron demands creatures who do as they are told,—which + is not the duty of a philosopher. The easiest way to dispose of a man who + knows too much is to dub him a wizard. But, of course, all this is merely + guessing in the dark. + </p> + <p> + “The little that I do know is this. When we had been acquainted for about + three years he told me that he had been offered the use of a house in + Goslar in which he might carry on his experiments privately. The chief + inducement, for him, lay in the nature of the country, which is very rich + in minerals, and he decided to leave Padua in the hope of making important + discoveries in this new field. He went first to Hildesheim and developed a + formula for making bronze which is said to be extraordinary, and then + began exploring the Harz mountains. He sent me some of the ores he found; + it appears that there is nearly everything in those ranges. I heard no + more until the news came, in a roundabout way, that he was dead and his + ashes cast to the four winds. His writings were supposed to have been + burned at the same time, but not all of them were, for three manuscripts + at least must have gone to make up the fragments we found among our + bezants. I wish for your sake, Alan, my son, that I could tell you more, + for I know of no man who would gain more by Archiater's work than you. If + he had been your master I think you might have rivaled the Venetians.” + </p> + <p> + Alan was not vain, and he never dreamed that Tomaso thought so highly of + his ability. In the Middle Ages the secrets of such arts as glass-making, + enameling, leather work, gold and silver work, and the making of + dyestuffs, were most jealously guarded. Alan had had two fortunate + accidents in his life; he had been taught in the beginning by a + master-artist, and later had come upon writings by a still greater genius, + the Byzantine philosopher of whom Tomaso had been speaking. + </p> + <p> + From the first glimpse he had had of the crabbed, clear handwriting, the + terse phrases, the daring and independent thought of Archiater, he had + been fascinated. Now he had set out to cross the narrow seas and find out + what, if anything, remained of the master's life-work. + </p> + <p> + “May there not have been some friend or pupil,” he asked wistfully, “who + would have rescued his manuscripts?” + </p> + <p> + “In that case,” Tomaso replied with gentle finality, “I think some of us + must have heard of it.” + </p> + <p> + “And yet,” Alan persisted, “some one had those parchments—some one + who may have received them from Archiater himself.” + </p> + <p> + “Take care,” the old man said with a rather melancholy smile. “That a + thing is possible and desirable, is no proof that it is true. To search + for that man seems to me like hunting the forest for last year's leaves. + But here come friends of yours.” + </p> + <p> + Guy Bouverel came springing up the stair, Giovanni and Padraig close + behind him. When greetings had been exchanged, and Alan had told the + others that he was in London only for a brief stay on his way to France, + Tomaso addressed the young goldsmith. + </p> + <p> + “Guy,” he said, “did you ever ferret out anything more about those + parchment scraps we found among the King's coin? You said that you should + make some inquiries.” + </p> + <p> + “Bezants are bezants and tell no tales,” said Guy with a shrug. “And if + they did, they might lie, like so many of those who love them. Why, you + recall that I repacked that gold in my own chest because I thought one of + the clerks was growing too fond of it. I took it as it lay and never + looked at the parchments. I met the clerk one day in Chepe and questioned + him. He said that the gold was a part of that the King recovered from the + London Templars—you know, when he had to come with an armed guard to + get his moneys that were stored in their house. Gregory of Hildesheim had + something to do with it, for he was very wroth when he found that I had + got this particular chest. But he could not have known what these scripts + were or he would have kept them in a sealed packet under his own hand.” + </p> + <p> + “He could not have read most of them,” said Tomaso. “Archiater usually + wrote his diaries in cipher. Who is this clerk?” + </p> + <p> + “Simon Gastard his name is. He was very anxious to leave England when last + I saw him. He was at me to join in a scheme for digging gold out of the + Harz mountains—Padraig, what are you grinning at?” + </p> + <p> + “Only to see how keen is your nose for a thief,” Padraig chuckled. “If + Simon is after digging gold out of the ground with his hands 'tis the + honestest plan he has had this long time. Simon thinks gold is what heaven + is made of. He would look at the sunset and calculate what the gold would + be worth in zecchins—he would. But why all this talk of the + parchments?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I have a mind to see whether any more of Archiater's work is to + be found,” said Alan quietly. “It may be a fool's errand, but I could not + rest till I had made a beginning.” + </p> + <p> + Three faces looked astonished, sympathetic and interested. Alan had the + hearty liking of his friends. They could depend upon him as on the market + cross. But they would almost as soon have expected to see that cross set + forth on pilgrimage as to find the quiet North Country glassmaker + beginning any such weird journey as this. + </p> + <p> + Tomaso broke the little silence, leaning forward in his oaken chair, his + finger-tips meeting. “We may as well sift what evidence we have,” he said. + “If the manuscripts had been in the hands of any one who knew the cipher + he must have done work so far beyond anything else in his craft that it + would be heard of. Archiater never made use of half his discoveries—and + he was always finding out secrets concerning the crafts. He knew things + about glassmaking, enamel-work, dyestuffs, and medicine, that no one else + did. He was occupied almost wholly with experiment and research. There are + not two such men in a century. + </p> + <p> + “Giovanni, you are the only one of us who has been beyond the Rhine. Do + you know any one there who might possibly aid in this search?” + </p> + <p> + The Lombard seldom talked unless he was directly addressed. “One man,” he + said, “might know the truth.” + </p> + <p> + “Would he reply to a letter?” + </p> + <p> + Giovanni shook his head. “He does not write letters. If I could see him I + would ask him, but the air of Goslar is not wholesome for me.” He looked + at Alan curiously. “Do you think of going there?” + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” Alan returned. + </p> + <p> + “There are rather more than half a score of reasons why not,” said + Giovanni, with a little mocking smile. “Do you speak many foreign + languages?” + </p> + <p> + “Only French.” + </p> + <p> + “And the moment you opened your mouth they would know you for an + Englishman. A foreign glassworker searching for the books of a reputed + wizard who made the Hildesheim bronze they are so proud of. That would + interest the Imperial spies.” + </p> + <p> + “Vanni,” said Alan, getting up, “I know well what a hare-brained + undertaking this must seem to you. But if you see fit to give me any + advice, I shall value it.” + </p> + <p> + The young men took their leave of Tomaso and followed the curving shore of + the Thames eastward to the city. “Look you,” said Guy presently, “I have a + plan—not a very shrewd one perhaps, but you shall judge of that. + This clerk, Simon Gastard, knows the country and the language. If his + story is true it may be worth looking into. I would not trust him alone + with the value of a Scotch penny. But if you were to go with him as my + proxy, you would have a chance of talking with this man Giovanni has in + mind.” + </p> + <p> + Padraig sniffed. “And Simon would sell ye to the devil if he got his + price. 'Tis pure rainbow-chasing, Alan—but I love ye for it.” + </p> + <p> + “Fools are safer than philosophers, in some parts of the world,” observed + Giovanni dryly. “And they are commoner everywhere. I hear that the + Templars are trying to find a tame wizard who can be kept in a tower to + make gold.” + </p> + <p> + “Vanni,” said Guy demurely, “did you ever, in your travels, hear of any + one making gold?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the Milanese, “but I have known of a score finding fool's gold, + and that's the kind you come on at the end of the rainbow. Alan, if you + are resolved on this thing, I will give you a token and a password to a + man you can trust.” + </p> + <p> + At London Stone they separated, Giovanni turning toward London Bridge, + Padraig wending his way to Saint Paul's, Guy and Alan making their way + through clamorous narrow streets to the Sign of the Gold Finch. + </p> + <p> + “By Saint Loy,” said the goldsmith suddenly, “here comes the clerk + himself. Gastard,” he beckoned to a little threadbare man edging along by + the wall, “I have a question to ask about the matter you wot of.” + </p> + <p> + If Alan had heard nothing beforehand he would have taken the man for a + fussy, inoffensive little scrivener who would never do more than he was + bid—or less. But when they were seated in the private room above the + shop, in which Guy kept some of the finest of his gold and silver work, + Simon's restless eyes began to glitter, and he reminded Alan of a rat in + the dairy. + </p> + <p> + Guy came at once to the point. Would Simon repeat his story for Alan's + enlightenment? Simon would. He related how, when returning from + pilgrimage, he had lost his way in the Harz valley and come upon a + hermitage where a very old monk lay near death. In gratitude (Simon said) + for services to him in his extremity, the hermit had revealed the secret + of a rich mine of gold in the mountains. Simon had gone to the mine, + secured nuggets of the precious metal, but most unfortunately had shown + them to Gregory of Hildesheim, a Templar said to be wise in the arts of + alchemy and metal-working. Gregory had seemed interested at first, but + afterward had told him that the ore was not gold at all, but a cunning + counterfeit devised by Satan. He had not even returned the specimens, but + had railed upon Simon for trying to pass them off as gold. That night a + heavy snowfall, the first of many, made it impossible to visit the mine + again. Now that Gregory was in England Simon wished to go again and secure + more of the gold secretly. It was scarcely possible to find the place + without direction, but one man, Simon solemnly declared, could, with pick + and shovel and leathern bag, bring away a fortune. + </p> + <p> + “It would be necessary,” said Guy, “to purify the gold so far as to make + it into rude ingots, if it is, as you say, in the rocks and not in free + lumps and particles washed down a stream. You need a companion who + understands such work. Now, I cannot take up the matter myself, but my + friend here knows enough of metals, though he is no goldsmith, to do that + part of the work. Some sort of makeshift laboratory might be arranged for + that. Then, if it is really a rich mine, we will see what can be done + next. But you will understand that I cannot be expected to undertake any + work involving great expense unless I have some other proof than you can + give me now. If you will take my friend to this mine, so that he may + secure ore enough to make his experiments, and I see the gold for myself, + I will pay the cost of the expedition. More than this, it seems to me, you + cannot expect.” + </p> + <p> + With this Simon effusively agreed. Alan had been watching Guy's face with + interest during the interview. The Londoner's usual debonair manner had + become the cool decision of a man with whom it is unsafe to deal slyly. + </p> + <p> + When Simon's back had vanished in the crowd of Chepe, Guy began rolling up + papers and closing books. “That may save you some time and trouble,” he + said, “if you can stomach his company. I do not believe, you know, that + there is any gold in the ledges. Simon knows no more of the nature of + metals than Saint Anthony's Pig.” + </p> + <p> + “What is the truth of the matter, do you think?” asked Alan. + </p> + <p> + “I thought at first that he had invented the whole story. But in that case + he would hardly have agreed to my plan so eagerly. It is just possible, of + course, that gold is there—it has been found in the Harz. He says + that the stuff is not brittle, and can be hammered and cut, which does not + sound like an iron ore. And his description of the rocks is too good to be + his own fancy. Again, the ore may be 'fool's gold',—a mixture of + copper and sulphur. In that case you will know it right enough when you + come to the roasting of it. In any case I am interested enough in the tale + to take a little trouble, and you and your private treasure-hunt happen to + alloy very happily with my curiosity.” + </p> + <p> + “Guy,” said Alan, “you may laugh, but your aid means more to me than you + know. If the clerk's tale is false you shall be repaid for your outlay.” + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw!” laughed Guy, “a copper mine is good enough to repay me. And then, + I take a certain interest in the manuscripts you are after. After all, if + you should find them it would be no stranger than those parchments coming + to us as they did, through the very hands of both Gregory and Simon. That + was a golden jest—but we must keep it hid for awhile. And now, what + I know of metals and their ways is at your service.” + </p> + <p> + Behold Alan then, after no more than the usual adventures of a journey, + busied with a small furnace in a small stone-floored room over an archway + in the walled city of Goslar. It was a late spring and bitterly cold, and + the heat of the fire was grateful. Simon had thus far put off taking his + companion to see the mine, and Alan had been occupied with fitting up a + place in which the ore should be tested when the time came. + </p> + <p> + Hearing the blare of trumpets, he craned his head out of window, and + caught a glimpse of the imperial banner flaunting and snapping in the + chill wind. He caught up cap and cloak and ran down the winding stone + stairs, coming out upon the market-square just as the guards entered it. + So close that Alan could have touched him, there went by a humped and + twisted figure with a jester's bells and bauble—a man with a + maliciously smiling mouth and wicked, observant, tired eyes. The white + pointed beard and worn, lined face belonged to an older man than Alan had + expected to see. The eyes met his for a second, he flung his cloak over + the left shoulder with the gesture Giovanni had taught him, and a few + minutes later an impudent small page pulled his sleeve and whispered that + Master Stefano desired to see him. + </p> + <p> + The boy led him through ancient streets to the entrance of a tall house + near the wall, and went off whistling. An old woman opened the door and + showed him into a little ante-room where, the jester sat, perched upon the + corner of a table. Alan bowed, and waited in silence. + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” said the jester with a laugh. “And now, since we are quite + alone, why do you, an honest man, pretend to be the fellow of that + rascally clerk?” + </p> + <p> + Alan always met an emergency coolly. “I did not know the country or the + language,” he said, “and I took this way of reaching Goslar in the hope of + learning the truth about one Archiater of Byzantium.” + </p> + <p> + The jester's high cackling laughter broke in. “Truth from a fool!” he + shrilled. “Oh, the wisdom of those who are not fools is past + understanding! Why do you rake those ashes?” + </p> + <p> + “I have read some of his writings,” Alan went on undisturbed, “and if + there should be more—anywhere—I would risk much for the sake + of them.” + </p> + <p> + Stefano shook his head mockingly, and the bells mocked with him. “You + English are mad after gold. They say here that Archiater sold his soul for + his knowledge.” + </p> + <p> + “That is child's prattle,” said the young man a little impatiently. “Gold + is all very well, but a man's life is in his work, not his wages. If you + can tell me nothing of what I seek, I will not trouble you.” + </p> + <p> + The fool clasped one knee in his long crooked white fingers. “You have no + wife, I take it.” + </p> + <p> + “I have not thought about it. But that has nothing to do with secrets of + the laboratory.” + </p> + <p> + “Heh-heh! Little you know of women. They have everything to do with a + secret. But suppose the manuscrips are worthless?” + </p> + <p> + “That is not possible,” Alan returned. “The lightest memorandum of such a + man has value. It is like a finger-post pointing to treasure. There are + writings, then?” + </p> + <p> + “I said nothing of the sort,” retorted Stefano. “I know all about your + search for treasure. Your clerk is digging the hills up this very day for + fool's gold. It has the look of gold—yes—but it is copper and + brimstone mixed in Satan's crucible—fool's gold and no more. Neither + you nor he will get any true gold out of that mine.” + </p> + <p> + “I tell you,” said Alan in sharp earnest, “that I came here with him for + convenience, not for treasure. A friend to whom I owe much desired to know + whether the clerk's story were true or false. For myself I seek only to + know what remains of the work of Archiater, because he was a master whose + work should not be lost. There must be those—somewhere—who + could go on with it,—if we but knew.” + </p> + <p> + “Aye,” chuckled the jester, “if we but knew!” Then leaning forward he + caught Alan by the shoulder. “Listen, you young chaser of dreams—what + would you give to see what Archiater left? Eh? Would you guard the secret + with your life? Eh? They burned the books in the public square—yes—but + if there was something that was not a book, what would you do for a sight + of that?” + </p> + <p> + Alan's heart was pounding with excitement, but his face was unmoved. “I am + not good at fencing, Master Stefano. I have been frank with you because I + am assured that you are to be trusted, and I think that you trust me or + you would not thus play with me. When you are ready to ask a pledge,—ask + it.” + </p> + <p> + “Well and straightly spoken,” nodded the jester. “If I reveal to you what + I know of this philosopher and his work, you shall pledge yourself to + betray nothing, to say nothing—not so much as a hint that I knew him—whether + I am alive or dead.” + </p> + <p> + Now and then in his life Alan had acted from pure blind instinct. This was + the blindest, blackest place it had ever led him to. He did not hesitate. + “I promise,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Very good,” said the jester, and drummed thoughtfully upon the table. “We + will begin with matters which are not bound up in your promise—for + they concern your friend who desires to sift out the clerk's tale about + his mine. This is the true story. Archiater found many metals and minerals + in these hills, and made some of his experiments in the ruins of an old + pagan temple close to the spot where he discovered a vein of copper. He + was half a winter trying out what he found, from arsenic to zircon. Simon + watched him by stealth, tracked him like a beagle, and finally went to one + high in authority with the report that he was making secret poisons. This + would have been no crime had the poisons been available for practical use. + As it was, they felt it safest to have Archiater seized when he came back + to the city, and tried as a wizard. + </p> + <p> + “They ransacked his house and got his books, of course, but Simon had + stolen some stray manuscripts he found in the old ruin and sold them. + Nothing, however, was gained by the person who paid the money, because the + writings were partly in cipher, and the key to the cipher had been burned + in the public square.” + </p> + <p> + “Then the Templars may still have the manuscripts,” mused Alan + disconsolately. + </p> + <p> + “Maybe,” the fool said with a little laugh, “but I said there might be + something that was not a manuscript. Come you with me.” + </p> + <p> + Taking a rushlight from a shelf the jester toiled slowly up two flights of + winding stairs, and then a short, straight flight of wooden steps,—opened + a door, and stood aside to let Alan pass. The young man paused on the + threshold in silent wonder. + </p> + <p> + The room within was not large, but it glowed from floor to ceiling like + some rare work in mosaic or Limoges enamel. The walls were hung with such + tapestries as Alan had seen on rare holidays in a cathedral, or in the + palace of duke or bishop. They were covered with needlework of silk in all + the colors of the rainbow, wrought into graceful interwoven garlands and + figures. The cushions of chair and settle, the panels of a screen, the + curtains of the latticed windows, displayed still more of this marvelous + embroidery, subtly contrasted and harmonized with the coloring of a rich + Persian rug upon the floor. The heart of all this glowing, exquisite + beauty was a young girl in straight-hanging robes of fine silk and wool, + her gleaming bronze hair falling free over her shoulders from a gold + fillet, her deep eyes meeting the stranger's with the sweet frankness of a + sheltered, beloved child. + </p> + <p> + The jester bowed low, his gay fantastic cap in hand, all his fleering, + mocking manner changed to a gentle deference. + </p> + <p> + “Josian, my dear,” he said, “this is the young man of whom I sent you + word. He has traveled many weary miles to see and speak with Archiater's + daughter.” + </p> + <p> + TO JOSIAN FROM PRISON + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + I Sweetheart my daughter: + These three days and nights + (Stephen has told me) thou dost grieve for me + Silently, hour by hour. Yet do not so, + My little one, but think what happiness + We shared together, and attend thy tasks + Diligently as thou 'rt ever wont to do. + When thou dost add thy mite of joyous life + To the great world, thou art a giver too, + Like to the birds who make us glad in spring. + Be happy therefore, little bird, and stay + Warm in thy nest upon the housetop high, + Where may God keep thee safe. And so, good-night. + + II Dearest my little one: + It hath been ruled + That I shall go away to that far land + Which I have told thee of. Men call it Death. + Thou knowest that our souls cannot be free + Dwelling within these houses of the flesh, + Yet for love's sake we do endure this bondage, + As would I gladly if God willed it so. + Stephen will care for thee as for a daughter,— + Be to him then a daughter; he has none + Save thee to love him. For the rest, remember + That in the quiet mind the soul sees truth, + And I shall speak to thee in our loved books, + As in the sunshine and the sound of music, + The beauty and the sweetness of the world. + + Three kisses give I thee,—brow, eyes, and lips. + Think wisely, and see clearly, and speak gently. + Thy little bed at night shall hold thee safe + As mine own arms,—thine elfin needle make + Thy little room a bright and lovely bower. + Thy household fairies Rainbow, Lodestone, Flint, + Shall do thy will. Thy stars have said to me + That thou wilt see far lands and many cities. + Await thy Prince from that enchanted shore + Beyond the rainbow's end, and read with him + Thy magic runes. This charge I lay on him + That he shall love thee—more than I—farewell! + Thy father, + ARCHIATER +</pre> + <p> + To Josian my daughter and sole heiress. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XI. — ARCHIATER'S DAUGHTER + </h2> + <p> + Alan was gathering his French for some sort of greeting, when the young + girl spoke in a sweet clear voice and in English. + </p> + <p> + “I am glad that you have come,” she said. “Father Stephen says that you + desire to hear of my father.” + </p> + <p> + “I came from England in the hope that I might,” Alan answered simply. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot tell you very much of his work,” the girl went on, motioning him + to a seat, with a quaint grace of gesture. “I was so very tiny, you see, + when he went away. He used to tell me stories and sing little songs to me, + and teach me to know the flowers and the birds. My mother would have done + so, he said, and he wished so far as he could to be both father and mother + to me. It seemed to me that he was so, and I loved him—not as dearly + as he loved me, because I was so small, but as much as I possibly could. + Oh, much more than my nurse, although Maddalena is very dear to me. + </p> + <p> + “We lived almost always in the city, so that we had not any garden, but we + had pots of flowers in the windows, and I used to tend them. Sometimes, + when my father went into the woods and the fields, he would take me, and + then I was happy; no bird could have been happier. I would weave garlands + of flowers, singing my rhymes about colors, and he taught me how to + arrange them to make every blossom beautiful in its place. + </p> + <p> + “When he sat writing at his table he called me his mouse, and if I kept + still I had cheese for my dinner with the bread and fruit. But when I + forgot and made a noise he would say that the mouse must be caught in a + trap, and he would take me in his arms and call Maddalena to carry me + away. And sometimes he went out alone, or shut himself in his own room for + days and days. Once he came out in the twilight and found me asleep with + my head on his threshold. After that he said that I must have work to do + while he did his work, and he would have Maddalena teach me the use of the + needle. He dyed the silks for me himself in beautiful colors, and when I + had done my task he would teach me to read in the big books and the small, + and to draw pictures of what I read. Here is one of the very books I used + to read with him.” + </p> + <p> + Alan would have thought what he saw was impossible if anything had seemed + unbelievable in this elfin girl. She laid open upon the table a finely + illuminated copy, in Greek, of Aesop's Fables, written on vellum in a + precise beautiful hand. + </p> + <p> + “He himself wrote books for me—not many, for he said there were + books enough in the world. One was on the nature of herbs, and another was + about the stars and their houses in the heavens. But they were lost, those + books. Father Stephen brought me others, but they are not the same; my + father wrote those only for me.” + </p> + <p> + “Had your father no friends?” Alan asked, with a great compassion for the + lonely man bending his genius to make a world for his motherless baby. + </p> + <p> + “Not many, and none here except Father Stephen, who knew my mother when + she was a child, in Ravenna. People came sometimes, but they were not + friends; their eyes were cold and their voices hard. Since my father went + away two old friends of his have been here with Father Stephen, but they + came only once. They were not of this people; they came from Byzantium.” + </p> + <p> + “And you have lived here always?” + </p> + <p> + The maiden laughed, a merry laughter like the lilt of a woodlark. “Oh, no—o! + Father Stephen has taken me to many places—to Venice once, and to + Rome, and when I was little we lived in Cordova. That is how I learned to + speak in different languages. I learned a new one every year for four + years. But for three years I have stayed in Goslar, and Father Stephen + says that no one must know I am here. That is queer, is it not, to live in + a city where not even the people in the next house know that you are + alive? Perhaps some day I shall go away, and live as others do. I wonder + very much what it will be like.” + </p> + <p> + The jester's face was shadowed by a sad tenderness. “May you never wish + yourself back in your cage, my child,” he said. “But it grows late, and I + think that you have told this guest all that you can of your father's + work.” + </p> + <p> + “All that I know,” the young girl said, regretfully. “I really know so + little of it—and the books were lost.” + </p> + <p> + In a maze Alan followed the jester down the darkening stairway. At the + foot Stefano turned and faced him. “You see what she is,” he said. “She is + Archiater's only child—she has his signet ring and his letters + written her from prison—only two, but I risked my own life to get + them for her. When they took him away they did not know that such a little + creature existed. She was but seven years old, and her nurse, Maddalena, + hid with her in a chest in the garret, telling her that it was a game. + That night I took them to a place of safety.” + </p> + <p> + “And you have taken care of her ever since?” the young man asked. The + jester nodded his big head. Then, as a group of courtiers came around the + corner, with a mocking gesture, Stefano limped away. Alan heard their + shout of laughter at his words of greeting, and went home in a dream. + </p> + <p> + During the following days Stefano treated him with every appearance of + confidence. By the jester's invitation he spent many hours at the tall + ancient house, in that enchanted room with its latticed windows looking + out over street and wall to the mountains. Stefano spent the time lounging + on the divan or in the great chair, or watching the street far below. He + said very little and often seemed scarcely to hear the talk of the youth + and the maiden. + </p> + <p> + Their talk ranged over many subjects. The girl could read not only in + Latin, the common language of all scholars, but in Greek and Arabian. Many + of her books were heavy leatherbound tomes by Avicenna, Averroes, + Damascene, Pliny, and other writers whose very names were unfamiliar to + Alan's ears. She poised above them like a bee over a garden, gathering + what pleased her bright fancy. Sometimes while they talked she would be + working upon her tapestry, some rich, delicate or curious design in her + many-hued silks. + </p> + <p> + Alan found that her father had begun teaching her the laws of design and + color before she could read. He had told her that colors were like notes + in music, and had their loves and hates as people do. + </p> + <p> + “Is it not so in your work, Al-an?” she asked. “Do not the good colors and + the bad contend always until you bring them into agreement?” + </p> + <p> + Alan had told her of his work, and it seemed to interest her immensely. + She was greatly delighted when she learned that he had found memoranda in + her father's own handwriting, which had led to the making of wonderful + deep blue glass. + </p> + <p> + “If I had the little books he wrote for me,” she said one day, “you might + find something beautiful in them also.” + </p> + <p> + He watched and wondered at the sure instinct guiding her deft, small + fingers in the placing of colors—the purple fruit, the gold-green + vine or the scarlet pomegranate flower in her maze-like embroidery. “But + how can you make pictures in the windows,” she would say, with her lilting + laughter, “if you do not know about color?” + </p> + <p> + To Alan's secret amusement he perceived that she thought her life very + ordinary and natural, while his own adventures on the moorland farm of his + boyhood were to her like fairy-tales. She was shyly but intensely curious + about his mother. She had never known anything of the ways of mothers + except from books and tales. + </p> + <p> + One bright morning she took from a coffer a prism of rock-crystal. “This + is one of the playthings my father gave me,” she said. “Look how it makes + the colors dance upon the wall.” + </p> + <p> + Like a quick silent fairy the little rainbow flitted here and there. “He + told me,” she went on, “that seven invisible colors live together in a + sunbeam, but when they pass this magic door they must go in single file, + and then we may see them. Not all are good colors. Some are bad and + quarrelsome, and some are good when they are alone, but not when they are + with colors they do not like. But when they live together in peace they + make the beautiful clear daylight, and we see the world exactly as it is.” + </p> + <p> + “As it is—saints protect her,” muttered old Maddalena, and the + jester smiled his twisted smile. + </p> + <p> + That evening Stefano said suddenly, “What are you going to do with your + clerk?” + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow,” said Alan, “I shall go to his mine.” + </p> + <p> + “You have not been there?” + </p> + <p> + “No; he has made some silly excuse each time it has been suggested.” + </p> + <p> + “He will never take you there,” said the jester. “You will see.” + </p> + <p> + “Simon,” said Alan pleasantly that night, “I am going into the mountains + with you to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + Suspicion, fear, jealous greed, chased one another over the clerk's mean + face. “You are in great haste,” he muttered. “It is not good weather, but + we will go of course, if you wish.” + </p> + <p> + In the morning Simon lay groaning with rheumatism, unable to move. Alan + made a fire, covered him warmly, left food within his reach, and went out + to think the matter over. Unconsciously his steps tended toward the house + of the jester. Stefano, coming out, caught sight of him. + </p> + <p> + “Hey!” said the fool, “why are you not in the mountains?” + </p> + <p> + Alan explained. The other gave a dry little laugh. “That need not hinder + you,” said he. “I will send some one to show you the place. Come to the + market-square an hour hence and look for a youth with two horses. I think + you would pass for a wood-cutter if you had an ax.” + </p> + <p> + Acting on this hint, Alan provided himself with ax and maul, and found in + the place appointed a serving boy riding one horse and leading another. He + had reason to be glad of the rough life of his boyhood, for he had ridden + all over the moors, bareback, on just such wiry half-broken animals, and + the road they now took was not an easy one. + </p> + <p> + At last they left the horses in a dell at the foot of the ledges and + scrambled up to a small stone building near the top of the mountain, half + hidden among evergreens. Its door was gone and its roof half fallen in, + but in it could be seen a stone altar and various tools and utensils, wood + cut and ready for burning. Evidently some one had been using the place—in + fact, some one was here now. As Alan stood in the doorway a figure rose + from a pile of leaves in the corner. + </p> + <p> + “Vanni!” said Alan under his breath. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he can be trusted,” said Giovanni, with a glance at the guide. “I + have been here two days. This was Archiater's private workshop. The + mountain people think it is haunted, so that it is a good place to hide. I + was not pleased when I found that your clerk had taken it for his own. I + lay upon the roof for two hours yesterday watching him. Having an errand + at Rheims I thought I would come along and see what had happened to you.” + </p> + <p> + Alan had as yet no right to tell the most important thing that had + happened. “I have not been here before,” he said. “Simon has put me off, + and he does not know I am here now.” + </p> + <p> + “Has he shown you his findings? He took a bag away with him—a heavy + one.” + </p> + <p> + “Only some minerals which are worth more than he thinks. I have been + working with them more or less. He is mightily curious about the action of + the furnace. I make a guess he is going to try to test the ore himself.” + </p> + <p> + “There is a donkey-load of it here,” said Giovanni, tilting with his foot + a stone in the floor. Under it gleamed a mass of irregular shining + fragments and yellow lumps of stone. Alan picked up one and scraped it, + struck it with a hammer, rubbed it across a chip of wood, “Guy was right,” + he said, “it is not gold. I can prove that to the fellow if he gives me a + chance.” + </p> + <p> + “What shall you do?” + </p> + <p> + “I am not sure. Are you safe here?” + </p> + <p> + “So long as they do not know I am here. Master Gay and his son are at + Rheims, and I am to join them. If you will come to-morrow or the day after + we can go together. I will show you a short way over the mountains that + Cimarron found when we were here. Stefano knows of my coming, and I shall + see him to-night.” + </p> + <p> + Alan had been thinking. “Vanni, I will do this. I will go with you + to-morrow if I can, but if I do not meet you here before noon you will + know that I must stay on. Will that answer?” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose it must. I dislike leaving you here with a twice-proved rascal + like this Simon. You do not know what he may do.” + </p> + <p> + “I should like to thrash him,” said Alan. “He is planning to get the whole + of this gold, as he thinks it, for himself.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course he is. But what good would it do to beat him? You cannot thrash + the inside of him, can you?” + </p> + <p> + Alan laughed, and strode off to the place where the horses were tethered. + Before returning to his lodgings he went to see Stefano. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said the jester when he had heard all, “what shall you do?” + </p> + <p> + Alan hesitated. “So far as my errand is concerned,” he answered, “I might + join Giovanni to-morrow. We had all along suspected that the ore was only + fool's gold. But—” + </p> + <p> + “I know,” nodded the jester. “And for that other reason, I am going to + tell you something. I have known for some time that Josian is not safe in + my care. It has never been over-safe, this arrangement, but while she was + a child the risk was not so great. Also, having the Emperor's favor, I + could do more for her than any one else could—then. + </p> + <p> + “I have thought for some days that the house was watched, and I do not + like that. Some one may have got wind of her being here, or may be tempted + by the reports of my hoard of gold. It is not hidden here, but they may + think it is. There is danger in the air. I can smell it. + </p> + <p> + “I have trusted no man as I am trusting you now. I have been looking for + some means of sending her away to Tomaso, her father's old friend, but the + thing has been most difficult to arrange. I dare not wait longer. Will you + take her away, with her nurse Maddalena, and protect her as if she were + your sister? You will have the aid of Giovanni, though he has never known + this secret.” + </p> + <p> + Alan's eyes met those of the old man eagerly and frankly. “Master + Stefano,” he answered, “I will guard her with my life. But can she be + ready to go at once?” + </p> + <p> + Stefano nodded. “The preparations that remain to be made will take no more + than an hour or two. She is a good traveler. My servant will secure horses + for you and meet you just before sunrise, near the gate. Maddalena will + come there with her, and you must not ride so fast as to arouse curiosity. + I have to play the buffoon at a banquet to-night, and there is but little + time, therefore—addio!” + </p> + <p> + Alan walked home slowly, pondering on all he had seen and heard that day. + Coming within sight of his lodgings, he found the street full of people + gazing at the windows, out of which a thick smoke was pouring. + </p> + <p> + “What has happened here?” he asked of a little inn-keeper from Boulogne, + with whom he had some acquaintance. + </p> + <p> + “They say it is the devil,” the other replied with a shrug. “Mortally + anxious to see him they seem to be.” + </p> + <p> + Alan shouldered his way through the crowd and ran up the stairs. Half way + up he met Simon reeling down, and caught him by the arm. “What have you + been about?” he asked sternly. + </p> + <p> + “The gold is bew-witched!” bubbled Simon, arms waving and eyes rolling in + terrified despair. “It is changed in the crucible! It is the work of + Satan!” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense!” said Alan roughly. “You have been roasting the wrong ore. I + could have told you it was not true gold. Be quiet, or we shall be driven + out of Goslar.” + </p> + <p> + Simon was too distracted to heed, and Alan went hastily up to the rooms, + where he found some copper pyrites in process of oxidation, giving forth + volumes of strangling sulphur smoke. After quenching the fire and doing + what he could to purify the air he gathered his belongings together and + left the house, extremely annoyed. He could see suspicion and even + threatening in the look of the crowd. + </p> + <p> + He went into the alley where Martin Bouvin's little inn was and asked + shelter for the night. + </p> + <p> + “I go away to-morrow,” he said, “and there is no returning to that place + for hours to come.” + </p> + <p> + “H'm!” said the inn-keeper. “What really happened?” + </p> + <p> + Alan explained. “My faith,” commented Bouvin, decanting some wine into his + guest's cup, “you are well rid of that fellow. Do you know that he has + been spying on you for a week? He dared not follow you, but he tried to + hire some one else to do it—that I know.” + </p> + <p> + It was already late. Alan dozed off, despite his uneasiness, for he had + had a tiring day. Suddenly he awoke and sat bolt upright. There was a + commotion in the street. The innkeeper was peeping out through a hole in + the solid shutters. “It is the clerk again,” he said. “He is haranguing + the people.” + </p> + <p> + Alan slipped out and came up on the outskirts of the crowd. He caught the + words “fool's gold” in Simon's shrill voice, and then the crowd began to + mutter, “Die Hexe! Die Hexe!” + </p> + <p> + Alan waited to hear no more. He knew that this meant that sinister thing, + a witch-hunt. If Simon had connected Stefano's house and his reputed hoard + of gold with his disastrous experiment, and possibly suspected Josian's + existence there, it was a time for quick thought and bold action. He raced + down the street leading to the rear of the house, vaulted the wall and + found old Maddalena unlocking the small side door. + </p> + <p> + “Get her away,” he said in a low voice, “at once—there is danger!” + </p> + <p> + The old woman pointed up the stairs, and Alan went leaping over them to + find the girl hooded and cloaked for the journey in the small room, now + bare and cold as the moonlight. Her soft light steps kept pace with his to + the garden gate; he hurried her and Maddalena out, bidding them walk away + quietly. Then he turned back, heaped a pile of straw and rubbish under the + stairs, and flung the contents of a lighted charcoal brazier on it. As the + fire blazed up he heard the snarl of the mob coming down the street which + passed the front entrance. He could hear words in the incoherent shouting—“Die + Hexe! Die Hexe! Brennen—brennen!” + </p> + <p> + As he shut the gate and slipped away he found Martin Bouvin keeping pace + with him, “Do you know what has happened?” the little man asked. “The + guests at the Prince's banquet came late into the street and found Simon + raving about his gold. They questioned him, and he told them of a + mysterious house where an old witch dwelt and changed into a young girl at + sunset. The Prince knew the house. He asked Master Stefano what it meant. + When he got no answer but a jest he struck Stefano down and rode over him. + He is dead. Then the people caught up the cry and began to talk of burning + the witch. They are all out there now, and the Prince is trying to make + his guard go in after the gold. That was a good thought of yours, setting + fire to the house: they will stay to watch it. I will go with you if I + may, Master. If Stefano is gone Goslar is no good place for me!” + </p> + <p> + Alan remembered now that the jester had spoken in terms of friendship of + Martin Bouvin. In any case they were now nearing the gate where the man + stood waiting with the horses. Josian and Maddalena were already mounted. + As the servant held Alan's stirrup the Englishman looked down and saw + under the hood the black piercing eyes and thin face of Giovanni. + </p> + <p> + “It is all right,” whispered the Milanese with a glance at Bouvin. “He can + ride the pack-horse. His only reason for staying here was Stefano's + business.” + </p> + <p> + The sleepy guard let them out without a look, and they rode on at a good + pace toward the mountains. Josian had not said one word. + </p> + <p> + “Are you afraid, Princess?” Alan asked presently. + </p> + <p> + She shook her head. When she heard the story of the jester's death she was + less shaken than Alan had feared. “He told me last night that he could not + live long,” she said sadly. “I knew that I should never see him again in + this world.” + </p> + <p> + At last they halted for an hour beside a little spring. Josian looked back + at the gray pointed roofs and towers of Goslar. “Al-an,” she said, “what + was that light in the sky?” + </p> + <p> + “It was your tower,” Alan answered. “No one will ever live there again, + since you cannot.” + </p> + <p> + Alan marveled at Josian's self-possession during the rough journey. She + obeyed orders like a child, showed no fear in the most perilous passes, + and fared as roughly as the others did, with quiet endurance. Soon, + however, they had crossed the frontier and met the party of travelers in + whose company were the London merchant and his wife and son. + </p> + <p> + Then began days and weeks of travel, the like of which Alan had not known. + He had gone from one place to another in such company as offered, many a + time, but here were folk who knew every road and every inn, beguiled the + hours with songs and jests and stories, and made the time pass like a + holiday. He found that his knowledge of the out-of-door world interested + Josian more than the ballads and tales of the others. He often rode at her + side for an hour or more, pointing out to her the secret quick life of + woodland and meadow, and finding perhaps that she already knew the bird, + squirrel, marmot or hare, by another name. “London is well enough,” he + said one day, “but 'tis not for me. I could never live grubbing in the + dark there like a mouldiwarp.” + </p> + <p> + Josian's delicate brows drew together. “Mouldi—what strange beast is + that, Al-an?” and Alan laughed and explained that it was a mole. + </p> + <p> + It was at noon of one of the long fragrant days of early summer, while the + travelers rested in the forest, that Josian spoke of the jester once more. + In the green stillness of the deep woods, birds singing and shy delicate + blossoms gemming the moss, the fierce and savage past was like a dream. + </p> + <p> + “Father Stephen gave me a packet that last night,” she said. “He gave + Giovanni gold for the journey, but this parcel he said I must carry myself + and show to you when I thought fit. I wonder what it can be?” + </p> + <p> + Alan took the packet and turned it over. It was sealed with a device of + Greek letters. + </p> + <p> + “That is my father's signet,” the girl added. “Here is his ring,” and she + drew from under her bodice a man's ring, hung on a slender gold chain, the + stone a great emerald carved with the Greek “AEI”—“Always.” Alan cut + the cord of the packet and handed it to her. “It is not for me to open + it,” he said. + </p> + <p> + She unfolded, tenderly and reverently, the wrappings of parchment and + oiled silk, and disclosed a compact manuscript closely written on the + thinnest leaves, in a firm clear hand. Lifting two or three of the pages + she read eagerly and then looked up, her eyes alight with wondering joy. + </p> + <p> + “Here are all the most precious of his writings, Al-an!” she cried, “the + secrets that were in all the books that were lost—written clearly so + that I myself can read them! Oh, it is like having him come back to speak + to us—and Father Stephen, too—here by ourselves in the forest! + And now you will know all the secrets of his work, for they are written + here.” + </p> + <p> + Alan's face had gone whiter than the parchment. Here indeed was the + treasure he had come to seek. And it was Josian's free gift. + </p> + <p> + But that was not all. “Josian,” he said, not putting out his hand even to + touch the precious parcel, “you must not give away these manuscripts so + lightly. They are worth much gold, child—they are a rich dowry for + you. You must wait until you see Tomaso the physician, and he will tell + you what is best to do with them.” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head. “Oh, n-o,” she said. “Father Stephen said that you + would make good use of them, and had earned them—but I think he knew + quite well what you would say. Perhaps some day you will feel + differently.” + </p> + <p> + Dame Cicely of the Abbey Farm welcomed Josian in due time as a daughter. + When she and Alan had been married about three months Josian was surveying + a panel of just-completed embroidery in which all the colors in exquisite + proportion blended in a gold-green jeweled arabesque. Alan came up behind + her and caught the sunlight through it. He asked to borrow it, and + reproduced the design in painted glass. That was the first window which he + made for York Minster. + </p> + <p> + Among the formulae in the scripts which were Josian's dowry were several + for stained glass and the making of colors to be used therein. By means of + one of these it became possible to make glass of wonderful rich hues, + through which the light came white, as if no glass were there. This is one + of the secrets known to the workers of the Middle Ages and now lost; but + in old windows there still remain fragments of the glass. + </p> + <p> + If to-day certain precious bits of glass, ruby-red, emerald-green, + sapphire-blue, topaz-yellow, set in the windows of old cathedrals, could + speak, they would say proudly that they are the work of Alan of York and + Josian, the daughter of Archiater, the philosopher. + </p> + <p> + NEW ALTARS + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + I Publius Curtius, these many years dwelling + Among these barbarians, a foe and a prefect, + To Those whom they worship unreasoning, + Gods of the Land, I raise this new altar. + + To Thee whom the wild hares in silence foregathering + Worship with ears erect in the moonlight, + (And vanish at sound of a footstep approaching) + God of the Downs, I pour this libation. + + To Thee whom the trout in the rainbow foam drifting + Behold in the sunlight through wet leafage sifting + (And vanish like shadows of clouds in the water) + God of the Streams, I pay this my tribute. + + To Thee whom the skylark, in rapture ascending + Adores in his dithyramb perfect, unending, + (And vanishes in the high heaven still singing) + God of the Mist, I utter this prayer. + + To Ye whom my children, born here in my mansion, + Reverence beyond the gods of their fathers, + And love as they love their own mother, + Gods of the Land, I build ye this temple! +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XII. — COLD HARBOR + </h2> + <p> + Wilfrid, the potter, stood with his wife and children, looking at what was + left of a little old cottage. Fire had left it a heap of ashes and + half-burned timbers and rubbish. The red roof-tiles glowed like embers of + dead centuries. + </p> + <p> + “I'd never ha' turned the old man out,” he said pensively, “but now he's + gone and the cot's gone too, we'll see what's under this end of Cold + Harbor.” + </p> + <p> + Edwitha, his wife, looked up, her eyes sparkling through quick tears. + </p> + <p> + “I was hoping you'd say that, Wilfrid,” she said with eager wistfulness. + “I've longed so to know—but he'd lived there since our fathers and + mothers were children. 'Twould ha' been like taking the soul out of his + body to drive him away.” + </p> + <p> + She was a slender, pretty creature, almost as childlike in her way of + speaking as if she had been no older than Dorothea or Alfred. The children + listened with pleased excitement commingled with a certain awe. Gaffer + Bartram had seemed as much a part of their lives as the sun or the wind or + the old pollard willow. When he was strong enough he taught Alfred to + snare rabbits and catch moles; when rheumatism crippled him he sat by the + door making baskets and telling Dorothy rhymes and tales of seventy years + ago. Then first his old gray cat Susan had disappeared, after that the old + man himself, and last the cottage caught fire and burned. And father was + actually giving orders to the men to dig up the garden and see what lay + under it. + </p> + <p> + There is a mysterious immovable setness about the Sussex Downs. What is + there seems to have been there always. The oldest man cannot say when the + great white hollows were first scooped out of the chalk, or the dewponds + made on the heights. Ever since there were people in Sussex—whether + it is five thousand years ago or fifteen thousand—the short + wind-swept turf has been grazed by woolly flocks. Before ever a Norman + castle held a vantage-height the tansy grew dark and rank in cottage + gardens and the children went gathering woodruff and speedwell and the + elfin gold of “little socks and shoes.” Any change, good or bad, is a loss + to some one—the land is so full of the life of the past. + </p> + <p> + Wilfrid and Edwitha well understood this, though they would never have put + it into fine phrases. They could not have said it except to each other, + and for that there was no need of speech. Because of it they had left the + old man at peace in his cottage, and even after he was dead they put off + the uncovering of what might lie under the soil of his garden and his + orchard. + </p> + <p> + Wilfrid's pottery had grown up in the last ten years near a claybank, not + far from the boundary between his father's land and Edwitha's old home. An + irregular terrace broke the slope above it, and here the tilled land had + come to an end at one point because the plows came hard against a buried + Roman wall. Not being able to break up the solid masonry of Roman builders + done a thousand years before, Wilfrid's father had cleared away the soil, + roofed over the ruin which he found, and used it to store grain. This was + Cold Harbor. + </p> + <p> + As Wilfrid's pottery prospered he found another use for the building. + There was no tavern thereabouts, and when the Saxon abbey five or six + miles away could house no more guests, or his workmen could not all find + lodging in the neighborhood, it was possible to shelter there. The roof + was weather-tight, a wood fire could be built on the stone hearth, and + with fresh straw from Borstall Farm for beds, provisions from the same + source, and their own cloaks for covering, travelers found themselves + fairly comfortable. + </p> + <p> + Like others of its kind the building came to be known as “Cold Harbor,” a + “herbergage” or lodging, without food or heat being provided. Sometimes an + enterprising innkeeper would take possession of such a place after a time + and furnish it as an inn. + </p> + <p> + At this very time, unknown to Wilfrid, some of his friends were discussing + such a possibility as they rode up from Dover. Gilbert Gay the merchant, + his wife Thomasyn and his son Nicholas were returning from France, and in + their company were Alan of York and Josian his wife, Guy Bouverel the + goldsmith, and others. West of Canterbury they came up with a stout + bright-eyed little man who looked as if he had fed well all his life, and + was called Martin Bouvin. + </p> + <p> + “What luck, Martin?” asked Master Gay. The little man spread his hands in + a gesture of comic despair. All the tavern-sites seemed to be held by some + religious house that owned the land, or some nobleman who allowed the + innkeeper to use his device as a sign. + </p> + <p> + “There ought to be an inn there in Sussex where Wilfrid's pottery is,” + observed the goldsmith. “When I halt there to see Wilfrid I find nine + times out of ten that I must e'en quarter myself on him. D'ye remember + that old place he calls Cold Harbor? That would be a proper house for a + tavern.” + </p> + <p> + “It is not large enough,” objected the merchant. “Any tavern worth the + name would need more room than that within a twelvemonth. Still, other + buildings could be added. If you and the potter can come to an agreement, + Bouvin, I will aid you in fitting up the building and you may repay me in + dinners. There's not a cook this side Rouen who can match your chestnut + soup.” + </p> + <p> + “Made with the yolk of an egg and a little wine of Xeres?” asked Guy with + interest. “Giovanni made it so for us once.” + </p> + <p> + The merchant waved a protesting hand. “No, no, no, no—lemon, man, + lemon, with white stock, pepper, salt, a little parsley. Sherry is an + excellent drink, but not in chestnut soup, I pray you.” + </p> + <p> + “What matters it,” asked Alan innocently, “so the food is wholesome and + pleasant? + </p> + <p> + “That is what might be expected of you, you Northern barbarian,” laughed + Guy. “Where did you get your cunning, Martin?” + </p> + <p> + The little man's beady black eyes twinkled knowingly. “A true cook, Master + Bouverel, takes all good things where he finds them. I make bouillabaisse + for those who like it, but—between you and me—Norman matelote + of fish is just as good. I cook pigeon broth as they do in Boulogne, I + make black bean soup as they do in Spain. I was born in Boulogne, but I + have cooked in many other places—in Avignon, where they say the + angels taught them how to cook—Messina, Paris, Genoa, all over + Aquitaine with the routiers. Perigueux is a very agreeable place—you + know the truffles there? I cook sometimes cutlets of lamb and veal in a + casserole with truffles, mushrooms, bacon in strips, a lemon sliced, + shallots, some chicken stock, and herbs—yes, that is very good. Oh, + I can cook for French, Norman, Gascon, Spanish, Lombard—any people. + Only in Goslar. That was one horreeble place, Goslar! The people eat pork + and cabbage, pork and cabbage, and black bread—chut!” He made a + grimace at the memory. + </p> + <p> + “I fear you will find some of that sort among our English travelers,” said + Gilbert Gay amusedly. “Not all of them will appreciate—what was that + you gave us in Paris? epigrammes of lamb, the cutlets dipped in chicken + stock and fried. Swine are still among our chief domestic animals.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, as to that,” said the chef quickly, “I am not too proud to cook for + people who like simple things—meat broiled and roasted with plain + bread. And do you know that one must be a very fine cook to do such work + well? When I am alone, which is not often, I prepare for myself fresh + vegetables, broil a fish that has not forgotten the water,—and with + a roll and a little fruit, that is my dinner. The soteltes at kings' + tables, all colored sugar and pastry and isinglass—they are only + good for people who can eat peacock, and those are very few. Do you know, + Master Gay, what is the great secret of my art? To know what is good, and + not spoil it.” + </p> + <p> + “I foresee,” laughed the merchant, “that we shall all be making excuses to + come down from London if you stay in Sussex with your saucepans. But hey! + there are the towers of the abbey already, and it is not yet + mid-afternoon. Let us ride on to see Wilfrid and find out whether he + approves of our fine plan.” + </p> + <p> + While this discussion of the noble art of cookery was going on miles away, + Wilfrid and Edwitha, with no thought of inns, were watching the laborers + digging where Wilfrid thought the rest of the building ought to be. In his + travels he had seen other Roman houses better preserved than this, and by + inquiring of learned men had gained some idea of Roman civilization. He + had been told that Roman officials in England often built villas in places + rather like this terrace, and since the building already unearthed was the + end of the walls in one direction, the rest of the villa might be found + under the cottage of old Bartram and his orchard, garden and cow-byre. + </p> + <p> + No other house in the neighborhood was as old as that cottage. It was + built of beams put together without nails and filled in with a rude + wattle-work plastered thickly with coat after coat of mud. Instead of + being thatched like most houses of its kind the roof had been covered with + fine red tiles,—possibly Roman work. It seemed that the soil must + have washed in over the ruins of the Roman building so very long ago that + there had been time for trees to grow above it. + </p> + <p> + Thus Wilfrid reasoned. As his laborers dug and moiled and sweated under + the hot clear sun, he watched with lively interest for whatever they might + turn up. It is to be feared that Edwitha's maids were less carefully + looked after than usual after the work began, and the children spent every + minute they could in following their mother or their father about to see + what was going to happen. + </p> + <p> + There was another reason besides curiosity for keeping watch of the work. + If any pottery should be discovered, Wilfrid did not wish to have it + broken by a careless mattock. + </p> + <p> + Then Dorothy came running from the house to find her mother and father + bending over a newly-unearthed Roman wall. “Father!” she cried, “a man is + come to see you!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said Wilfrid, not very eagerly. He brushed some of the earth from + his clothes with a handful of weeds and went toward the gate, where a + horseman sat awaiting him. As he came nearer the man dismounted and came + toward him with outstretched hand. + </p> + <p> + “Alan!” cried the potter joyfully. “I heard you were abroad. Come in, and + I'll send for Edwitha.” + </p> + <p> + “Not so fast,” said his guest. “I am but a harbinger. Guy Bouverel and + Master Gay the merchant with his wife and son, and some others, are coming + along. We'll stay at the Abbey, but we rode on to see you first. I've my + wife with me, Wilfrid.” + </p> + <p> + “That's news indeed,” said the potter cordially. “And who may she be? Some + foreign damsel you met in your pilgrimage?” + </p> + <p> + “That's one way of saying it,” answered Alan smiling. “You shall see her + and judge for yourself. How's all here?” + </p> + <p> + Wilfrid smiled rather sheepishly. “You and your wife must come and stay + with us,” he insisted. “We'll make you welcome, spite of being a bit + upset. Edwitha has been taking holiday. We're digging up the farm to see + what's at the other end of Cold Harbor, lad.” + </p> + <p> + “Make no ado about us,” Alan protested. “It's partly about Cold Harbor + that we came—but here they all are, upon my life!” + </p> + <p> + A merry company of travelers rode up the lane, and as they dismounted + Edwitha came over the little footpath across the field, with the children + clinging to her hands—a little embarrassed to find so many folk + arriving and she not there. The boy scampered up to his father piping + loudly, “Father, come you quick—we've found a picture in the + ground!” + </p> + <p> + “What's all this?” asked Master Gay. And after Wilfrid's explanation + nothing would do but that they all should go immediately to see what had + come to light. When they beheld it the younger men could not keep from + taking a hand themselves. With brooms of twigs, and potsherds, and water + from the well in Cold Harbor, they industriously swept and scraped and + washed the pavement which the men had now partly uncovered. + </p> + <p> + It was a mosaic floor of tiny blocks of red, black, yellow, white, brown, + cream and slate-blue, set in cement so strong that not an inch of the fine + even surface had warped. It was not a large pavement, and might have been + the floor of a small dining or sitting-room so placed as to command a view + of the valley. A part of one wall remained. It had been plastered and then + covered with a finer plaster which was frescoed with a row of painted + pillars against the deep marvelous red of Pompeii. The design of the floor + was not at first clear. The edge was decorated with a conventional pattern + in gray and white. The corners were cut off by diagonal lines making an + eight-sided central space. This was outlined by a guilloche, or border of + intertwining bands of brilliant colors. Inside this again was a circle + divided into alternate square and triangular spaces with still brighter + borders, containing each some bird or animal. In the central space was a + seated figure playing on a harp, while around him were packed in a close + group a lion, a ram, a bull, a goat, a crab, fishes, and other figures. + Nobody at first saw what it could be. + </p> + <p> + “If I mistake not,” said the little stout man, Martin Bouvin, at last, “it + is Sir Orpheus playing to the beasts.” + </p> + <p> + “To be sure!” cried Guy Bouverel. “Do you know books as well as + cooking-pots, O man of the oldest profession?” + </p> + <p> + Martin grinned. “I heard a song about that once,” he answered, “and I have + never forgotten it. It was a lucky song—for some folk.” + </p> + <p> + It was fortunate that at that time of year the sun does not set until + after eight o'clock, for no one could have borne to leave that pavement + without seeing the whole of it. The children, quite forgotten for once in + their lives, grubbed in the piles of earth and found bewitching bronze + lion-heads and ornamental knobs and handles, and pictured tiles. At last + they all went in to a very late supper. All the guests could be sheltered + at Wilfrid's home if the young men were satisfied to lodge in Cold Harbor. + </p> + <p> + “It is like finding out the people who lived here when the land was + young,” said Wilfrid, his eyes very bright. + </p> + <p> + “And there were also the men who made the dewponds,” mused Master Gay. + </p> + <p> + “And there were those Druids of whom my father told me,” said Josian + wonderingly. “This is like a fairy tale, Al-an. Is York the same?” + </p> + <p> + “Brother Basil said once that our England is a land of lost kingdoms,” + Alan answered her. “I see what he meant.” + </p> + <p> + Excavation went on during the following days until all the pavements of + the old Roman house had been cleared. The two others were larger but not + so fine as the first they had uncovered. One was of stone blocks laid in a + sort of checkerboard pattern, and the other of mosaic in a conventional + pattern of black and gray and brown and red. They found that under these + floors there was an open space about two feet high. The tiled floor which + was covered with the mosaic was supported by a multitude of dwarf pillars + of stone and brick. This space, although they did not know it, was the + hypocaust or heating chamber of the colonial Roman house, and had been + kept filled with hot air from a furnace. Beams of wood and heaps of tiles + indicated that there had been an upper storey of wood. This in fact was + the case, the Romans having a strong objection to sleeping on the ground + floor. + </p> + <p> + Now there was no more doubt that Cold Harbor might be made into a + well-appointed tavern. With a little masonry to reenforce them the walls + would form a base for a half-timbered house roofed with tiles from + Wilfrid's pottery. The largest room would be the general guest-room in + which the tables would be set for all comers, and those who could not + afford better accommodation might sleep there on benches or on the floor. + For guests of higher station, especially those who had ladies in their + party, private chambers and dining-rooms would be provided. Master Gay + intended to furnish a suite for himself and any of his friends who came + that way. + </p> + <p> + “And by the way,” said Guy suddenly, “Cold Harbor will never do for a + name. What shall you call the inn, Martin?” + </p> + <p> + Bouvin snapped his fingers. “I have thought and thought until my head goes + to split. I would call it Boulogne Harbor, but there is no picture you + could make of that.” + </p> + <p> + “'Mouth' is the English for harbor,” suggested Wilfrid. “But all the + country people would call it 'Bull-and-Mouth.” + </p> + <p> + Padraig began sketching with a bit of charcoal on the broken wall. “Make + it that and I'll paint the sign for ye. 'Bull-and-Mouth'—every + hungry man will see the meaning o' that.” + </p> + <p> + With a dozen strokes he sketched a huge mouth about to swallow a bull. + This, done with a fine show of color, became the sign of the tavern. + Martin never tired of explaining the pun to those who asked. Even before + the guest-rooms were finished, travelers began arriving, drawn by the fame + of Martin's savory and succulent dishes. Pilgrims, merchants, knights, + squires, showmen, soldiers, minstrels, scholars, sea-captains—they + came and came again. Almost every subject in church or state, from Peter's + pence to the Third Crusade, from the Constitutions of Clarendon to clipped + money, was discussed at Martin's tables, with point and freedom. Cold + Harbor entered upon a new life and became part of the foundation of a new + empire. + </p> + <p> + GALLEY SONG + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Amber, copper, jet and tin, + Anklet, bracelet, necklace, pin,— + That is the way the trades begin + Over the pony's back. + + Mother-o'-pearl or malachite, + Ebony black or ivory white + Lade the dromond's rushing flight + Over Astarte's track. + + Crucifix or mangonel, + Steel for sword or bronze for bell,— + That is the way we trafficking sell, + Out of the tempest's wrack. + + Marble, porcelain, tile or brick, + Hemlock, vitriol, arsenic— + Souls or bodies barter quick— + Masters, what d'ye lack? +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIII. — THE WISDOM OF THE GALLEYS + </h2> + <p> + It was Nicholas Gay's last night at home. At dawn his father's best ship, + the Sainte Spirite, would weigh anchor for the longest eastward voyage she + had ever undertaken. His father's brother, Gervase Gaillard of Bordeaux, + was going out in charge of the venture. Gilbert Gay, the London merchant, + who had altered his name though not his long-sighted French mind in his + twenty years of England, thought this an excellent time for his + eighteen-year-old son to see the world. + </p> + <p> + Since Nicholas could remember, he had known the wharves of the Thames and + the changeful drama of London Pool. He had been twice to Normandy, but to + a lad French by birth, that was hardly a foreign land. Now he was to see + countries neither English nor French—some of them not even + Christian. Half Spain and all the north coast of Africa were Moslem. + Sicily and Sardinia had Saracen traditions. This would be his first sight + of the great sea-road from Gibraltar to Byzantium. + </p> + <p> + During the past three years Gilbert Gay had been often absent, and the boy + had taken responsibility of the sort that makes a man. With the keen + aquiline French profile he had a skin almost as fair as a girl's, and + yellow-brown waving hair. The steady gray eyes and firm lips, however, had + nothing girlish about them. + </p> + <p> + As luck had it these last hours were crowded with visitors. Robert Edrupt, + the wool-merchant, and David Saumond, the mason, were taking passage in + the Sainte Spirite. Guy Bouverel had a share in her cargo, and came for a + word about that and to bid Nicholas good-by. Brother Ambrosius, a + solemn-faced portly monk, had letters to send to Rome. Lady Adelicia + Giffard came to ask that inquiry be made for her husband, who had gone on + pilgrimage more than a year before, and had not been heard of for many + months. The poor soul was as nearly distraught as a woman could be. She + begged Gervase Gaillard to ask all the pilgrims and merchants he met + whether in their travels they had seen or heard of Sir Stephen Giffard, + and should any trace of him be found, to send a messenger to her without + delay. She was wealthy, and promised liberal reward to any one who could + help her in the search. It was her great fear that the knight had been + taken prisoner by the Moslems. + </p> + <p> + “I think that you must have heard of it in that case,” said Gilbert Gay + gently, “since these marauders ever demand ransom. I pray you remember, my + lady, that there are a thousand chances whereby in these unsettled times a + man may be delayed, or his letters fail to reach you. 'Tis not well to + brood over vain rumors.” + </p> + <p> + “I know,” whimpered the poor lady, “but I cannot—I cannot bear that + he should be a captive and suffering, and I with hoarded gold that I have + no heart to look upon. 'Tis cruel.” + </p> + <p> + “Holy Church,” observed Brother Ambrosius, “hath always need of our hearts + and of our gold, lady. Peace comes to the spirit that hath learned the + sweet uses of submission. To dote on the things of the flesh is unpleasing + to God.” + </p> + <p> + “When I was in Spain,” said Edrupt, “I heard a monk preaching a new + religion. He urged his hearers to aid in rescuing the captives held in + Moslem slavery. 'Tis said he has saved many.” + </p> + <p> + “Were it not well,” pursued Brother Ambrosius as if he had not heard, “to + think upon the glorious opportunity of a captive to bear witness to his + faith? We read how angels delivered the apostles from prison, and how + Saint Paul in his bonds exhorted and rebuked his people, to the + edification of many.” + </p> + <p> + “True,” commented Gilbert Gay rather dryly, “but we are not all Saint + Pauls. And I have never known of God sending angels to do work that He + might properly expect of men and women.” + </p> + <p> + This was a new idea to Brother Ambrosius. Not finding a place in his mind + for one just then, he looked meek and said nothing, and presently took his + leave. + </p> + <p> + “Saint Paul was a tentmaker, was he not?” queried Guy Bouverel when the + door had closed upon the churchman. “Had he rowed in the galleys I doubt + whether we should have had those Epistles.” + </p> + <p> + Nicholas recalled this conversation the next day, as the sturdy little + ship of English oak filled her great sails and went blithely out upon the + widening estuary of the Thames. The last of the dear London landmarks + faded into the gray soft sky. Soon the sailors would begin to look for + Sheerness and the Forelands, Dungeness, Beachy Head. Nicholas leaned on + the rail above the dancing morning waters and remembered it all. + </p> + <p> + There was his mother's sweet pale face under the white coif, her busy + fingers completing a last bit of stitchery for him. There was his father's + fine, keen, kindly face bent over his account-books and coffers. There was + pretty Genevieve, his sister, with her husband, Crispin Eyre. And there + were the comrades of his boyhood, and the prating monk, and the unhappy + lady with her white face framed in rich velvets and furs, and her piteous + beseeching hands that were never still. Those faces, in the glow of the + fire and the shine of tall candles in their silver sconces, were to be + with him often in the months to come. + </p> + <p> + Edrupt came up just as a long Venetian galley went plowing out to sea, the + great oars flashing in the sunlight, one rank above another. “They do not + have to pray for a fair wind, those Venetians,” Nicholas commented idly. + </p> + <p> + “That galley's past praying for anything,” Edrupt said grimly. “You may be + glad that your men fear neither wind nor seas—nor you. 'Tis an ill + thing to sail the seas with those who serve only through fear.” + </p> + <p> + Nicholas had not thought of it in that way. He knew, of course, that the + slaves who rowed the racing galleys were the offscouring of mankind, + desperate men, drawn from all nations. It was as much as two men could do + to handle one oar, and all must pull in unison as a huge machine. The + Venetian dromond was to other merchant-ships as the dromedary to other + camels. To make the speed required the rowers must put forth their whole + strength, hour after hour, day after day. + </p> + <p> + Any work which makes men into parts of a machine is not likely to improve + them as men. When they have no love for their work and no hope of reward, + and do not even speak the same language, the one motive which can be + depended upon to keep them going is fear. The whip of the overseer bred + festering, burning hatred, but it kept the sweeps from breaking their + monotonous unceasing motion. If the voyage were quick, the profits were + the greater, and no one cared for anything else. + </p> + <p> + Thinking of the hard sea-bitten faces of the galley-slaves Nicholas + rejoiced that rather than live so the crew of the Sainte Spirite would + every man of them choose a clean death at sea. + </p> + <p> + Some days later it seemed as if they were fated to die so. A Biscay + tempest caught them, and from dark to daylight they were buffeted by the + giant battledores of wind and sea. Nicholas spent the sleepless hours in + lending a hand and cheering the men as he could. + </p> + <p> + At last they sighted the great Rock of Gibraltar, fifteen hundred feet of + it clear against the sky, like the gateway pillar of another world. + Between Europe and Africa they passed into the blue Mediterranean,—blue + with the salty sparkle beloved of all sea-lovers since Ulysses. Light warm + winds, the scent of orange-groves and rose-gardens, a sky only less deep + in its azure splendor than the sea itself—it seemed indeed another + world. + </p> + <p> + But the Sainte Spirite had not come whole out of her struggle with the + powers of the abyss. Timbers were sadly strained, a mast was gone, every + man on board was weary and muscle-sore. And then a Levantine gale drove + the crippled merchantman down on the Barbary coast. + </p> + <p> + The blackness of that storm ended, for Nicholas Gay, in a plunge into the + black waters and a glimpse of the high lantern of his father's ship + dancing above the tossing foam like a witch-fire, for an instant before + she went down. When he came to himself he was lying on hot sand in the + sunshine, and Edrupt and David Saumond were bending anxiously over him. + </p> + <p> + Half the seamen were gone; so was the captain; so was all of the cargo. + Gervase Gaillard had been injured by a falling mast and was helpless. The + coast was strange to them all, but the old merchant and Edrupt made a + guess that it was a part of Morocco somewhere near the town of Fez. Food + they had none; water they might find; and the merchants had not lost quite + all they had in the wreck. Some gold and jewels they had saved, secured + about their persons. These would pay the passage of the company to London—if + they had luck. + </p> + <p> + They were considering what to do next when a body of some twoscore + horsemen swept down upon them. The leader might have been either Turk or + Frank. He was as dark as a Saracen and wore the chain-mail, scimitar and + light helmet of the heathen, but he spoke Levantine rather too well for a + Moor, and with a different intonation. + </p> + <p> + “Who are you?” he asked curtly. Nicholas Gay stood up, not yet quite + steady on his feet. + </p> + <p> + “We are London merchant folk,” he said, “from the wrecked ship Sainte + Spirite, whereof my father, Gilbert Gay, was owner. My uncle here is our + chief man, but as you see, he is injured and cannot move. If we may get + food and lodging until we are able to return to England, we will requite + it freely.” + </p> + <p> + “London,” repeated the soldier. “A parcel of London traders, eh?” He spoke + a few words to the Moor who rode next him, in another language. “This is + the domain of Yusuf of the Almohades,” he went on, “and we make no terms + with the enemies of God. Yet we condemn no man to starve. Ye shall have + food and lodging so long as ye remain with us. Doubtless ye are honest and + will pay, but in this barbarous land there are many thieves. Therefore we + will take charge of such wealth as ye have. As for that old man, he cannot + live to reach his home. Abu Hassan!” + </p> + <p> + A trooper spurred toward the old merchant and thrust him through with his + lance. He half rose, groaned and fell back, dead. Others, dismounting, + seized upon the astonished and indignant castaways, and took from them + with the deftness of practiced hands whatever they had of value. This was + too much for the Breton and English sailors. They would have fought it out + then and there. But Nicholas spoke quickly so that only those nearest him + heard. + </p> + <p> + “There is no gain in being killed here one by one. Wait and be silent. + Pass the word to the rest.” + </p> + <p> + When the prisoners had been herded into a compact company in the center of + the mounted troop, the leader chirruped to his horse. “It grows late,” he + said. “Y'Allah!” And at the point of the lance the captives were driven + forward. + </p> + <p> + They were taken through the crowded narrow streets of a squalid town and + left in a walled enclosure where two negroes brought them an earthen jar + of water and some sort of cooked grain in a large bowl. The sun blazed + down upon their shelterless heads and flies hummed about the filth in the + unclean place. Nicholas, when their hunger had been partly satisfied and + there was no more to eat or drink, addressed himself to the others in a + cool and quiet voice. + </p> + <p> + “Friends, it is like we are to be sold into slavery among the infidels. If + each man is left to shift for himself they may break us. If we stand by + one another and keep our faith we may yet win home to England. They may + not separate us at first, and I have been thinking that if they find out + the value of a company of men freely choosing to work together in harmony, + they will hardly separate us at all. But we must obey their will, we must + keep order among ourselves, and above all, we must seem to have given up + all hope of escape. What say you?” + </p> + <p> + Edrupt spoke first. “I'm with you, lad. 'Tis our one chance of seeing home + again, I do think.” + </p> + <p> + David Saumond's shrewd eyes were scanning the faces of the sailors. “I'll + no be the last to join ye,” he said. “But all must agree. One man out + would make a hole i' the dyke.” + </p> + <p> + A big Breton sailor stepped forward. “Kadoc of Saint Malo sticks to his + ship,” he growled, and drew with his forefinger a line in the dust. “Who's + next?” + </p> + <p> + One after another, but with little hesitation, the men crossed the line. + All had some idea of what awaited them in the Moorish provinces. It was no + new thing for captives of European blood to be sold as slaves. Gangs of + them toiled on canals, walls, fortresses, in grain-fields, on board + galleys. Those leaders of Islam who urged a holy war sowed fortifications + wherever they went. The need for slave labor for such work was greater + than the supply. Much of the slave population was unfit for anything but + the simplest and rudest tasks, and could be kept at work only by the + constant use of the whip. + </p> + <p> + All the tales Nicholas had heard of slavery crowded into his mind in the + first moments of captivity. Once a black-browed Sicilian had told of a + night of blood and flame, when the slaves of a galley, mad with toil, + privation and hatred, killed their masters and attempted to seize the + ship,—and almost succeeded. “Slaves cannot unite,” the Sicilian + ended contemptuously. “There is always a Judas.” But Gilbert Gay had + chosen his men for this voyage with especial care. Every man of them, + Nicholas believed, could be trusted. + </p> + <p> + They had never dreamed of anything like the next few days—the filth, + the degradation, the cruelty. Nicholas was glad, when half-naked Moslem + boys called them names from a safe distance, that the others could not + understand. The insults of an Oriental are primitive and plain—and + very old. Nicholas had a trick of absorbing languages, and already knew + half a score of outlandish tongues and dialects. + </p> + <p> + Not only the townspeople but their Moslem fellow-slaves held the Kafirs in + contempt. Their rations were sometimes food condemned by the Moslem faith. + Edrupt's cool common sense and David's dry humor were of valiant service + in those days. The Scot averred that better men than Mahomet had been bred + on barley bannocks, and that the flat coarse cakes of the Berbers were as + near them as a heathen could be expected to come. He also warned them that + Moses knew what he was about when he forbade pork to his people, and that + the pigs that ran in the streets of an African town were very different + eating from the beech-fed hogs of Kent. From a Jewish physician for whom + he had once built a secret treasure-vault he had picked up a + rough-and-ready knowledge of medicine which was of very considerable + value. + </p> + <p> + One morning they were all marched off, in charge of a greasy + indifferent-looking Turk, to work on a canal embankment. The garden of an + emir's favorite was to have a new bath-pavilion. Here the great strength + of Kadoc, the hard clean muscle and ready resourcefulness of Edrupt, and + the Scotch mason's experience in the ways of stones and waters, set the + pace for the rest. The seamen studied how to use their strength to the + best advantage as they had once studied the sky and the sea. They moved + together to the tune of their own chanteys, and the Turk discovered that + this one gang was worth any two others on the ground. When questioned, + Nicholas replied briefly that it was the way of his people. + </p> + <p> + The foreign-looking officer smiled incredulously when this explanation was + given, and watched them for some time with obvious suspicion. But the men + seemed not to be plotting together, and to be thinking only of their work. + If the English were fools enough to do more than they were made to do it + was certainly no loss to their masters. + </p> + <p> + “I should like to know the name of that vinegar-faced captain,” said + Edrupt one day. “I mistrust he wasn't born here.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Nicholas. “They call him the Khawadji, and they never use that + name for one of themselves.” + </p> + <p> + “He's too free with his whip. Yon tall man that tends his horses could + tell something of that, I make my guess.” + </p> + <p> + One night they came on the Khawadji's stable-man caring for a lame horse + with such skill that Nicholas spoke of it. By some instinct he spoke in + Norman-French. The other answered in the same tongue. + </p> + <p> + “Every knight should know his horse.” + </p> + <p> + “You are of gentle birth, my lord?” + </p> + <p> + “Call me not lord,” the Norman said wearily. “I have seen too much to be + any man's lord hereafter. Since my fever I am fit only for this, and none + will know the grave of Stephen Giffard.” + </p> + <p> + Nicholas' heart leaped. “Sir,” he said quickly, “ere we left London the + Lady Adelicia, your wife, came to my father's house to beseech him to aid + her in searching for you. If any of us ever see home again I will take + care that she is told of this.” + </p> + <p> + The knight looked ten years younger. “I thank you,” he answered gravely. + “And if I should not live to see her again, I would have her know that my + thoughts have been constantly of her.” + </p> + <p> + “Is not this Khawadji a caitiff knight of France? He does not seem like a + Moor.” + </p> + <p> + The Norman nodded. “He is Garin de Biterres, a miscreant of Guienne. My + brother balked him in some villainy years ago. He took me for Walter when + he saw me, and let it out. Aquitaine being too hot to hold him, and the + Normans in Ireland refusing to enlist him, he came through the Breach of + Roland and took service under the Crescent. He was once a slave among the + Moors of Andalusia, and owes his deformity to that. He cozened an old + beggar into treating his leg with some ointment which would wither it up + so that he could not work, and it never wholly recovered.” + </p> + <p> + “How comes it that he has not allowed you to send word to your people? + Most of these folk are greedy for ransom.” + </p> + <p> + “I think he keeps me here for his pleasure. At first he took the letters I + wrote and pretended to have sent them, and gibed in his bitter fashion + when no reply came. That is how I know that the letters were not sent at + all. Had my lady heard so much as a word of my captivity she would have + searched me out.” + </p> + <p> + The approach of some troopers broke off the conversation, and Nicholas + went his way, marveling at the strange chances of life. + </p> + <p> + Some months passed, during which the English worked at varying tasks—brickmaking, + the hauling of brick and cut stone, the building of walls. Then a merchant + called Mustafa came seeking slaves for his galley. After much crafty + bargaining he secured Nicholas and his companions for about two-thirds the + original price asked. But the Khawadji refused to part with Stephen + Giffard. + </p> + <p> + The galley was a rackety, noisome trading-ship that plied along the coast. + On board were already some rowers of various races, accustomed to the + work, but the bulk of the labor was to be done by the new men. It was + killing toil. Fed on black beans and coarse bread and unclean water, they + worked the ship from one filthy white-walled port to another, never seeing + more than the dock where the galley anchored or some mean street where + their barracks might be. There were times when Nicholas seemed to himself + hardly more human than the rats that gnawed and scrabbled in the dark at + night. He began to see how a galley-slave is made—molded and tainted + through and through by that of which he is a part. + </p> + <p> + The clean comradeship of the little group of Northern exiles did not count + for so much in this work. The pace of the ship was the average pace of the + whole crew. They became too weary to think or feel, too ravenous to + disdain the most unwholesome rations. Nicholas found himself mysteriously + aware of the moods of those about him, as men are when herded together in + silent multitudes. In the free world one feels this only now and then—in + an army, a mob, a church. Among slaves the dog-like instinct is common. + They know more of their masters than their masters can ever know of them. + </p> + <p> + Nicholas had been carefully trained by wise parents to the habit of + self-control, but he found that he was moved nevertheless by the mad + unreasoning impulses of the half-barbarous people about him, ridden + fiercely by their black thoughts of hate and fear. That it was the same + with his comrades he knew from little things they said—and even more + from what they did not say. They grew dulled to beauty and suffering + alike. There were glorious dawns, that flushed the white walls of a + seaport rose-red, above waters of mingled ink and blood that changed as by + magic to blue like lapis-lazuli. Then the sky turned saffron and the + minarets were of a fleeting gold above the deep blue shadows of the + streets. There were velvet nights when the stars blazed like a king's + ransom, and white-robed desert men moved in the moist chill air like + phantoms. But all this was as little to them as to the lizards that crept + along the walls or the sweeps they handled with their hardening hands. + Years after, Nicholas recalled those nights and those mornings and knew + that something that sat within his deadened brain had been alive and had + stored the memories for him. But he did not know it then. + </p> + <p> + Mustafa bragged among his friends, from Jebel el Tarik to Iskanderia, of + his fine ship and his unparalleled crew. The listeners would smile and + stroke their beards and exclaim at intervals, “Ma sh'Allah!”—believing + perhaps one tenth of what they heard. Oftenest he boasted of the Feringhi + rowers whom he had purchased from the sheikh's own steward in the + slave-market of Lundra—a city of mist and wealth and pigs and fair + maidens. Thus it came about that Ahmed ibn Said, the host, and Abu Selim, + the letter-writer of the bazaar, devised a jest for a supper at the khan. + They would send for one of these Frankish slaves and see what he would + say. The flattered Mustafa agreed, and the messenger returned with + Nicholas Gay, whose gray eyes and yellow hair caused a mild sensation. + </p> + <p> + The guests began to ask questions, first in Levantine, then in Arabic. + Were there bazaars in Lundra? Did the people drink coffee? Had they + camels? Did the muezzin call them to prayer? Did the women sleep upon the + housetops? Was the city most like Aleppo the White, or Istamboul, or + Damasc-ush-Shah? How many Muslimun were there? How many of the idolaters? + </p> + <p> + To these inquiries Nicholas replied, at first with faint amusement at the + mingled shrewdness and ignorance of these men, then with a fierce pride in + his city which made his words, as the letter-writer expressed it, shine + like rubies and sing like a fountain. The merchants listened, and munched + their sticky baclawi, ripe olives and dates and figs, and drank many tiny + cups of coffee, more entertained than they had ever been by Mustafa. + Finally the host sent for a basket of fruit—great pale Egyptian + melons, pomegranates, oranges, figs—and graciously bestowed it upon + the gifted galley-slave. He meant to come next day, he said, and with + Mustafa's permission behold the prowess of the English in swimming. + </p> + <p> + To every one's surprise, Ahmed really came. Those who could swim were had + out of their stifling quarters and allowed to do so. Nicholas could swim + like an eel, and all were amazed when, after swimming farther out than any + of the others, he flung up his arms, uttered a loud cry, and vanished. + They watched and searched, but nothing more was seen of him, and there was + mourning among the English. + </p> + <p> + But there was a Genoese galley in the harbor, and Nicholas had seen it. He + had dived, swum under water as far as he could inshore, and come up with + his head inside the scooped-out rind of a large melon. During the search + the seeming melon quietly bobbed away toward a reedy shallow, and the + swimmer hid among the reeds until dark, and then swam across to the + Genoese ship. The captain knew Gilbert Gay and listened with interest to + the youth's story. + </p> + <p> + The Genoese captain did not care to interfere with' Mustafa in a town full + of his Moslem countrymen. He waited until the crazy trading-galley was + well out to sea and rammed her with the beak of his own ship. Crossbowmen + lined the rail, grappling irons were thrown out, and the captain, with + Nicholas and some soldiers, went and unearthed Mustafa among bales of + striped cotton. When he understood that they merely wanted all of his + Feringhi slaves, he thankfully surrendered them. + </p> + <p> + “Shall we put this fellow to death?” inquired the captain. Mustafa + understood the tone and gesture though not the words, and turned a dirty + yellow-gray. “No,” said Nicholas Gay. “He was a good master—for an + Arab.” + </p> + <p> + Mustafa took heart. He would never reach port, he complained, being so + short-handed. + </p> + <p> + “You can work your ship under sail for that distance,” said the Genoese, + twisting his mustachios, “if you dare loose your other slaves.” At that + Mustafa had an ague. When they saw the last of him he was making slow and + crooked progress. + </p> + <p> + “And after all,” said Edrupt one day, as they sighted the cliffs of Dover, + “you bore witness among the heathen, as the fat old monk directed.” + </p> + <p> + “Stupid pig!” David grumbled. “I'd like fine to have him bearing witness + in a Barbary brick-yard, sweating and whaizling over his tale o' brick. + He'd throw his six hundred a day or I'd have his hide.” + </p> + <p> + “All the same,” said Edrupt thoughtfully, “a Londoner beats a Turk even + for a galley-slave—eh, Nicholas?” + </p> + <p> + “We were never slaves,” said Nicholas. “We were free men doing the work of + slaves for a time. We had memory and hope left us. There is nothing to be + learned at such work. Stick together and give them the slip if you can—that's + all the wisdom of the galleys.” + </p> + <p> + HARBOUR SONG + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Sails in the mist-gray morning, wide wings alert for flight, + Outward you fare with the sea-wind, seeking your ancient right + To range with your foster-brethren, the sleepless waves of the sea, + And come at the end of your wandering home again to me. + By the bright Antares, the Shield of Sobieski, + By the Southern Cross ablaze above the hot black sea, + You shall seek the Pole-Star below the far horizon,— + Steer by Arthur's Wain, lads, and home again to me! + + Caravel, sloop and galleon follow the salt sea gale + That whispers ever of treasure, the ancient maddening tale,— + Round the world he leads ye, the sorcerer of the sea, + Battered and patched and bleeding ye come again to me. + By the spice and sendal, beads and trumpery trinkets, + By the weight of ingots that cost a thousand dead, + You shall seek your fortune under hawthorn hedges,— + Come to know your birthright in the land you fled. + + Sails of my sons and my lovers, I watch for ye through the night, + My lamps are trimmed and burning, my hearth is clear and bright. + With every sough of the trade-wind that blows across the sea + I wake and wait and listen for the call of your hearts to me. + By Saint Malo's lanterns, by Medusa-fires + Rolling round your plunging prows in midnight tropic sea, + You shall sight the beacon on my headlands lifting— + All sail set, lads, and home again to me! +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIV. — SOLOMON'S SEAL + </h2> + <p> + Where the moor met the woodland beyond the Fairies' Hill, old Izan went + painfully searching for the herbs she had been wont to find there. The + woodcutters had opened clearings that gave an unaccustomed look to the + place. Fumiter, mercury, gilt-cups, four-leaved grass and the delicate + blossoms of herb-robert came out to meet the sun with a half-scared look, + and wished they had stayed underground. The old wife was in a bad humor, + and she was not the better pleased when her donkey, moved by some + eccentric donkeyish idea, gave a loud bray and went trotting gleefully off + down the hill. + </p> + <p> + “Saints save us!” muttered the old woman, shaking a vain crutch after him. + “I can never walk all that distance.” + </p> + <p> + But the donkey was not to get his holiday so easily. There came a shout + from the forest, and a boy on a brown moor pony went racing off after the + truant beast, while a lady and a young girl looked on laughing. It was a + very pretty chase, but at last Roger came back in triumph and tethered the + donkey, repentant and lop-eared, to a wind-warped oak. + </p> + <p> + “O Mother Izan!” cried Eleanor, “we've found a great parcel of herbs. I + never saw this before, but mother thinks it's what they called polygonec + in France and used for bruises and wounds.” + </p> + <p> + The old woman seized eagerly on the plant. It was a long curved stalk with + a knotted root and oval leaves almost concealing the narrow greenish bells + that hung from the joints of the stem. “Aye,” she said, “that's Solomon's + Seal, and 'tis master good for ointment. The women,” she added dryly, + “mostly comes for it after their men ha' made holiday.” + </p> + <p> + Eleanor was already off her pony, and Roger followed her. “We'll get you + all you want, Mother Izan,” she called back; “there's ever so much of it + up here among the rocks.” + </p> + <p> + “I should like to know,” queried Roger as they pulled and pried at the + queer twisted roots, “why they call this Solomon's Seal. I don't believe + Solomon ever came here.” + </p> + <p> + “Maybe it was because he was so wise,” said Eleanor sagely. “Mother said + it was good to seal wounds. We'll ask David.” + </p> + <p> + In those days a knowledge of herbs and medicines was part of a lady's + education. Physicians were few, and in remote places the ladies of the + castle were called upon not only to nurse but to prescribe for cases of + accident, fever, wounds or pestilence. Rarely did a week go by without + Lady Philippa being consulted about some illness among her husband's + people. She had begun to teach Eleanor the use of herbs, especially the + nature of those to be found in the neighborhood, and here Mother Izan was + of great service. In her younger days she had ranged the country for miles + in every direction, in search of healing plants, and she knew what grew in + every swamp, glen, meadow and thicket. + </p> + <p> + “Mother Izan must have been uncommonly anxious to get that Solomon's + Seal,” said Roger as they rode home in the purple dusk. “I believe Howel + has been beating Gwillym again.” + </p> + <p> + Almost as well-informed as Mother Izan was David Saumond, the stone-mason, + who was rebuilding the village church. He had come to the castle one day + with news of Sir Stephen Giffard, Eleanor's uncle, who had been a prisoner + among the infidels but had now been ransomed and was on his way home. + Finding that David understood his business, the lord and lady of the + castle had decided to give into his hands the work to be done on the + church. Masons were scarce in England at that time, and most of those who + had skill were at work on half-built cathedrals. David was a wise and + thorough builder, but he had the reputation of being rather crotchety. Sir + Walter Giffard suspected that this was due to his absolute honesty. He + would rather pick up a job here and there which he could do as it should + be done, than to have steady employment where scamped building was winked + at. This suited the knight very well. He wanted a man whom he need not + watch. + </p> + <p> + “An unfaithful mason's like a broken tooth or a foot out of joint,” + observed the Scot when he saw some haphazard masonry he was to replace + with proper stonework. “That wall's a bit o' baith.” + </p> + <p> + David would take all the pains in the world with a well-meaning but slow + workman, but he disposed of shirkers and double-dealers without needless + words. Neither did he encourage discussion and idle talk about the work. + </p> + <p> + “A true mason's no sae glib-gabbet,” he observed one day. “There's no need + o' speechmaking to make an adder bite or a gude man work.” + </p> + <p> + David confirmed Mother Izan's opinion of the virtues of Solomon's Seal. + The Turks, he said, used to eat the young shoots, cooked. The children + already knew that Solomon was the Grand Worshipful Master of all the + masons of the world. About his majestic and mystical figure centered + legends and traditions innumerable. Solomon's Knot was a curious intricate + combination of curving lines. Solomon's signet was a stone of magical + virtues. The temple of Solomon was the most wonderful building ever seen, + and the secrets of its masonry were still treasured by master masons + everywhere. No sound of building was heard within its walls; the stones + were so perfectly cut and fitted that they slid into their places without + noise. And Solomon himself was the wisest man who ever lived. He could + understand the talk of the martins under the eaves, the mice in the + meal-tub and the beasts of burden in the stables, when they conversed + among themselves. + </p> + <p> + “Aiblins that's what gar'd him grow sae unco wise,” David ended. “You bear + in mind, Master Roger, that every leevin' thing ye see, frae baukie-bird + tae blackfish, kens some bit cantrip he doesna tell, and ye'll be a + Solomon—if ye live.” + </p> + <p> + David was eating his bread and cheese on the lee side of the wall when + Eleanor came by with a gray lump of clay in her hands. + </p> + <p> + “See what Gwillym has made,” she said. + </p> + <p> + David stopped with the cheese half way to his mouth. “Who's Gwillym?” he + asked. + </p> + <p> + “He's a boy we've known ever since he was very little—he's only + eight now—and he does make the most alive looking things out of + clay. He heard you telling about Solomon talking with the birds and + beasts, and he made this.” + </p> + <p> + The clay group was really an unusual piece of modelling for an untrained + hand. That a child should have made it was more than remarkable. The thin + bent figure of the wise King was seated on a throne formed of gnarled + tree-roots. On his wrist a raven perched; on his shoulder crouched a + squirrel, with tail alert for flight; two rabbits sat upright at his feet; + a lamb huddled against his knee on one side and a goat on the other. The + figures all had a curiously lifelike appearance. As Eleanor said, one felt + that if they heard a noise they would go away. Moreover she saw with + wonder that the head of King Solomon and his lifted hand made him a fair + portrait of David. + </p> + <p> + David took the clay group in his hand, turned it about, whistled softly. + “Wha owns this bairn?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Howel's his father,” said Roger. “He's quite good to him—unless + he's drunk. Then he pounds him. He hates to have Gwillym make images; he + thinks it's witch-craft. Gwillym made an image of him once and the leg + broke off, and that very same day Howel's donkey kicked him and made him + lame for a week.” + </p> + <p> + “There's ower mony gowks in the land for a' the mills to grind,” said + David, and that was all they could get out of him. They knew he was + interested or he would not have been so Scotch. David could speak very + good English, and did as a rule, but with Eleanor and Roger he often + returned to the speech of his boyhood because they liked it so much. + </p> + <p> + They liked David exceedingly. He had seen more interesting things than any + one else they knew. He showed Roger how to make a fish-pond, and he told + Eleanor how the Saracen city in her tapestry ought to look. He had himself + been a slave among the infidels, and the children heard his adventures + with awe and delight. Eleanor loved the story of the bath-pavilion like a + tiny palace, built by the emir for the lady Halima, and the turning of the + course of a river to fill her baths and her fountains, and water her + gardens. Roger's hero was the young English merchant who had escaped by + swimming, under his master's very nose. If one could have such exciting + experiences it seemed almost worth while to be a captive of the Moslems. + But when Roger said so, David smiled a dry smile and said nothing. + </p> + <p> + But it was of King Solomon that he spoke most, and he seemed to have the + sayings of the wise king all by heart. A Hebrew physician whom he had once + known used, he said, to write one of Solomon's proverbs on the lid of + every box of salve he sent out. + </p> + <p> + “You follow his wisdom, Master Roger,” David said one day, “and you'll see + how to build ye a house or a kingdom. 'Envy thou not the oppressor and + choose none of his ways,' he says. 'Withhold not good from them to whom it + is due, when it is in the power of man to do it,' he says. 'God shall + bring every work into judgment with every secret thing, whether it be good + or whether it be evil.' + </p> + <p> + “I tell ye,” David added, glancing from the trim gray wall of the lychgate + up to the castle on the hill, “every day's judgment day wi' a builder—or + the head of a house.” + </p> + <p> + Thus the stonemason was touched more deeply perhaps than he would have + owned, by the likening of his face to that of Solomon in the clay figures + of little Gwillym ap Howel. + </p> + <p> + As the work on the church progressed three friends of David's journeyed + from Salisbury to see him. They had come from Lombardy a long time ago, + when they were Piero, Andrea and Gianbattista. At Avignon they were known + as Pierre, Jean-Baptiste and Andre, and in Spain they were rechristened + Pedro, Juan and Andres. Now they were called Peter, Andrew and John,—and + sometimes the Apostles. Peter understood vaulting; Andrew could carve a + stone image of anything he saw, and John had great skill in the laying of + pavements. They talked of cathedrals and palaces with a familiarity that + took one's breath away. + </p> + <p> + The building of a cathedral seemed to be full of a kind of fairy lore. The + plan was that of a crucifix, the chancel being the head, the transept the + arms and the nave representing body and legs. The two western towers stood + for Adam and Eve. There was a magic in numbers; three, seven and nine were + better than six, eleven or thirteen. Certain flowers were marked for use + in sacred sculpture as they were for other purposes. Euphrasy or eyebright + with its little bright eye was a medicine for sore eyes. The four-petaled + flowers,—the cross-bearers,—were never poisonous, and many of + them, as mustard and cabbage, were valuable for food or medicine. But when + Roger took this lore to Mother Izan for her opinion she remarked that if + that was doctors' learning it was no wonder they killed more folk than + they cured. + </p> + <p> + In fact the three Lombard builders, while each man was a master of his own + especial art, had done most of their work in cities, and when it came to + matters of the fields and woods they were not to be trusted. But when + David found Roger a little inclined to vaunt his superior woodcraft he set + him a riddle to answer: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “The baldmouse and the chauve-souri, + The baukie-bird and bat, + The barbastel and flittermouse,— + How many birds be that?” + </pre> + <p> + And the masons were all grinning at him before Roger found out that these + were half a dozen names for the bat, from as many different places. + </p> + <p> + The vaulting of the roof of the church was now under consideration. For so + small a building the “barrel vault,” a row of round arches, was often + used; but David's voice was for the pointed arch throughout. “The soarin' + curve lifts the eye,” he said, “like the mountains yonder.” He drew with a + bit of charcoal a line so beautiful that it was like music. It was not + merely the meeting of two arcs of a circle, but the meeting of two + mysteriously curved perfect lines. Sir Walter Giffard saw at a glance that + here was the arch he had dreamed of. + </p> + <p> + He saw more than that. David was that rare builder, a man who can work + with his hands and see all the time inside his soul the completed work. He + could no more endure slipshod work or graceless lines in his building than + the knight himself could do a cowardly or dishonest thing. David would + have done his task faithfully in any case, but it rejoiced his soul to + find that the knight and his lady would know not only that their village + church was beautiful, but why it was so. + </p> + <p> + Andrew was at work upon the decorative carving of the arches of the + doorway. The outer was done in broad severe lines heavily undercut; the + next inner arch in a simple pattern of alternating bosses and short lines—Andrew + called it the egg and dart pattern—and the inner arch in a delicate + vine rather like the ivy that grew over the keep. Andrew said it was a + vine found in the ruins of the Coliseum at Rome. + </p> + <p> + When it came to the carving of the animals and birds and figures for the + inside of the church, Andrew's designs did not quite suit Lady Philippa. + They were either too classical or too grotesque; they were better fitted + to the elaborate richness of a great cathedral than to a little stone + church in the mountains. She would have liked figures which would seem + familiar to the people, of the birds and beasts they knew, but Andrew did + not know anything about this countryside. + </p> + <p> + “Mother,” said Eleanor one night after this had been talked over, “what if + Roger and I were to ask Andrew to go with us to Mother Izan's and see her + tame birds and animals, and Gwillym's squirrel? And we could explain what + he wants of them.” + </p> + <p> + Like many children in such remote places, Eleanor and Roger had picked up + dialects as they did rhymes or games, and often interpreted for a peasant + who knew neither Norman nor Saxon and wished to make himself understood at + the castle. + </p> + <p> + The idea met with approval, and the next day Lady Philippa, Eleanor, Roger + and Andrew went to the cottage by the Fairies' Well. They found that David + had been there before them. + </p> + <p> + “He's a knowledgeable man, that,” the old woman said with a shrewd smile. + “He's even talked Howel into letting the clay images alone, he has. + Gwillym's down by the claybank now, a-making Saint Blaise and little + Merlin.” + </p> + <p> + The cottage evidently was a new sort of place to Andrew, and his dark eyes + were full of kindly interest as he looked about. The old dame sat humped + in her doorway among her chirping, fluttering, barking and squeaking pets. + An ancient raven cocked his eye wisely at the visitors, a tame hare hopped + about the floor, a cat with three kittens, all as black as soot, occupied + a basket, and there were also a fox cub rescued from a trap, a cosset lamb + and a tiny hedgehog. Birds nested in the thatch; a squirrel barked from + the lintel, and all the four-footed things of the neighborhood seemed at + home there, + </p> + <p> + The stone-carver readily made friends with Gwillym, who seemed to + understand by some instinct his broken talk and lively gestures. When + Andrew wished to know what some bird or animal was like, the boy would + mold it in clay, or perhaps take him to some haunt of the woodlands where + they could lie motionless for a half-hour watching the live creature + itself. + </p> + <p> + But there was one among Gwillym's clay figures which they never saw in the + forest, and to which the boy never would give a name. It was a shaggy + half-human imp with stubby horns, goat-legs and little hoofed feet. He + modeled it, bent under a huge bundle, perched on a point of rock, dancing, + playing on an oaten pipe. Andrew was so taken with the seated figure that + he copied it in stone to hold up the font. + </p> + <p> + “What's that for?” asked David when he saw it. “Are ye askin' Auld Hornie + ben the kirk, man?” + </p> + <p> + Andrew laughed and dusted his pointed brown fingers. “One of Pan's people, + David. They will not stay away from us. If you sprinkle the threshold with + holy water they come through the window.” + </p> + <p> + That figure puzzled David, but Gwillym would say nothing. At last the + church was finished, and the village girls went gathering fresh rushes, + fragrant herbs and flowers to strew the floor. David went fishing with + Roger in Roger's own particular trout-stream. Coming back in the twilight + they beheld Gwillym dancing upon the moss, to the piping of a strange + little hairy man sitting on a rock. An instant later the stranger + vanished, and the boy came toward them searching their faces with his + solemn black eyes. + </p> + <p> + “That was my playfellow,” he said. “I have not seen him for a long time. + He and his people lived here once, but they ran away when there came to be + so many houses. I used to hide in the woods when father came seeking me at + Mother Izan's, and my playfellow gave me nuts and berries and wild honey. + He said that if father beat me I was to go and live with his people. I + think I should if you had not come.” + </p> + <p> + Howel, the mason, was a bewildered man that night. He agreed, before he + fairly knew what he was about, to David's adopting Gwillym as his own son, + to go with him to the house of a good woman in London and be taught all + that a lad should learn. In time he might be able to carve stone saints + and angels, kings and queens, gargoyles and griffins, for great + cathedrals. And all this had come of the forbidden clay toys. + </p> + <p> + “I beat him week after week,” he muttered, “for melling wi' mud images and + running away to the forest to play wi' devils. 'Twas no good to him, being + reared by an old witch.” + </p> + <p> + David's mouth set in a grim line and he rubbed the little black head with + his crooked, skillful, weatherworn hand. + </p> + <p> + “Even a child is known by his doings, whether his heart be pure, and + whether it be right,” he said half aloud as he led Gwillym away toward his + own lodgings. “But the fool hates knowledge. The hearing ear and the + seeing eye are the gifts of the Lord—and if a man was meant to be a + bat or a donkey he'd ha' been made so. When Solomon said that a wise son + maketh a glad father he didna reckon on a father being a fule. Ye'll say + yer farewells to Auld Hornie, laddie, and then we'll gang awa' to London + and leave Solomon's Seal i' the wilderness.” + </p> + <p> + And that was how the little wild cave-man of the forest came to be inside + a village church, under the font for the christening. + </p> + <p> + THE LEPRECHAUN + </p> + <p> + Terence he was a harper tall, and served the King o' Kildare, And lords + and lodies free-handed all gave largesse to him there, And once when he + followed the crescent moon to the rose of a summer dawn, Wandering down + the mountain-side, he met the Leprechaun. + </p> + <p> + And a wondrous power of heart and voice came over Terence then, For a + secret in his harp-strings lay, to call to the hearts of men, That he + could make magic of common songs, and none might understand The words he + said nor the dreams they bred—for he had them of Fairyland. + </p> + <p> + Eily she was a colleen fair, the light of the harper's eyes, And he won by + the aid of the Leprechaun his long-desired prize. The wedding-feast was + but just begun,—when 'twixt the dark and the day, Quick as the water + that runs to earth the Leprechaun slipped away! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + So the daylight came, and the dreams were past, and the wild harp + sang no more, + And Terence looked at the cold black hearth and the silent open door, + And he cried, “I have sold my life this night, ye have my heart in + pawn,— + Take wife and gold, but come ye back, ye little Leprechaun!” + </pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0017" id="link2H_4_0017"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XV. — BLACK MAGIC IN THE TEMPLE + </h2> + <p> + No one could say just how it came to be whispered that the Templars of + Temple Assheton dealt in black magic. Travelers told strange tales of + France, where the Order was stronger than it was in England—tales of + unhallowed processionals and midnight incantations learned from the + infidels of Syria. A Preceptor, Gregory of Hildesheim, was said to possess + writings of a wizard who had suffered death some years before, and to have + used them for the profit of the Order. + </p> + <p> + Swart the drover, who had sold many good horses to the Templars and + expected to sell more, laughed at these uncanny rumors. Wealthy the Order + was, to be sure, but that was no miracle. Its vaults, being protected not + only by the consecration of the building but by its trained body of + military monks, often held the treasure of princes. Moreover, this + powerful military Order attracted many men of high birth. Their estates + became part of the common fund, since no individual Templar could own + anything. + </p> + <p> + Unfortunately, Swart's facts were so much less romantic than the tales of + enchantment that they made very little impression. The grasping arrogance + of the Templars caused them to be hated and feared, and if they were + really wizards it was just as well not to investigate them too closely. + And if they had in truth learned the art of making gold, it was only + another proof of that old and well-tried rule, “He who has, gets.” + </p> + <p> + Gregory had not, however, discovered that secret as yet. He had had great + hopes of certain formulae bought at a large price of a clerk named Simon, + who stole them from the reputed wizard; but when he tried them, there was + always some little thing which would not work. At last he bethought him of + one Tomaso of Padua, who had been a friend of the dead man and might + possibly have some some valuable knowledge. The physician was at the time + in a market-town about twelve miles off, resting for a few days before + proceeding to London. He was an old man and journeys were fatiguing to + him. Gregory sent a company of men-at-arms to invite him to come to Temple + Assheton. The request was made on a lonely path in a forest, along which + Tomaso was riding to visit a sick child on a remote farm. It would have + been impossible for him to refuse it. + </p> + <p> + Rain was dripping from the drenched bare boughs of half-fledged trees, + clouds hung purple-gray over the bleak moors; the river had overflowed the + meadows, and the horses floundered flank-deep over the paved ford. Few + travelers were abroad. Those who saw the black and white livery of the + Temple, and the old man in the long dark cloak who rode beside the leader, + looked at one another, and wondered. + </p> + <p> + When the cavalcade rode in at the great gate, where the round Temple + crouched half-hidden among its grim and stately halls, the physician was + taken at once to Gregory's private chamber. The Preceptor greeted him + urbanely. “Master Tomaso,” he said, “men say that you have learned to make + gold.” + </p> + <p> + “They say many things impossible to prove, as you are doubtless aware,” + Tomaso answered. + </p> + <p> + “Do you then deny that it is possible?” persisted Gregory. + </p> + <p> + “He is foolish,” Tomaso returned, “who denies that a thing may happen, + because he finds it extraordinary.” + </p> + <p> + “Under certain conditions, you would say, it can be done?” + </p> + <p> + “When the donkey climbs the ladder he may find carrots on the tiles,” was + the Paduan's reply. The weasel-like face of the Templar contorted in a wry + grin. + </p> + <p> + “You bandy words like an Aristotelian, sir alchemist,” he said sharply, + “therefore we will be plain with you. You shall be lodged here with + suitable means for your experiments until such time as your pretensions + are justified—if they are. Should you prove yourself a wizard, a + dabbler in the black art and a deceiver of the people, you shall be so + punished that all men may know we share not in your guilt. Reflection + hereupon may perchance quicken your understanding. Until you have news of + importance for our hearing, farewell.” + </p> + <p> + With what he could summon of dignity, the Preceptor turned from the calm + gaze of the physician and left the guards to conduct him to his lodging. + There was really nothing else to do. It was a risk, of course. Tomaso was + well known. He had the confidence of the King himself. But the situation + was difficult. Prince John, who was usually in straits despite his + father's generosity, had hinted to Gregory lately that he meant to inquire + in person about the reported making of gold in the Temple. Could he have + guessed somehow that two chests of ingots from a Cadiz galley had come to + Temple Assheton instead of to the King's treasury? Or did he believe the + story of the making of gold? + </p> + <p> + Gregory was but too certain that if John found any treasure of doubtful + title he would seize it, and he was acutely unhappy. However, if Tomaso + possessed the secret—or some other secret of value—there was + yet a chance to save the Cadiz ingots. If this plan failed the scapegoat + would not be a Templar. + </p> + <p> + Tomaso knew what was passing in his enemy's mind, not through any + supernatural means, but by his knowledge of human nature. He was aware, as + he lay on his narrow straw bed, that his life was in imminent danger. No + one knew where he was; no message could reach his friends. A discredited + wizard could count on no popular sympathy. The record of his studies for + many years would vanish like the wind-blown candle-flame. Yet after some + hours of wakefulness he slept, as tranquilly as a child. + </p> + <p> + A red-headed youth in the dress of a clerk, who was to have met Tomaso on + the morrow, waited for him in vain. On the second day he started in search + of his old friend, and weary and mud-bespattered, came at last to Temple + Assheton. On the road he fell in with Swart the drover, who told him of + the reported alchemy. “Gold would be common as fodder if any man could + make it,” Swart growled, “and when a man's wise beyond others in the art + of healing, 'tis wicked folly to burn him alive for't.” + </p> + <p> + Padraig's face lost every trace of color. “W-who says that?” + </p> + <p> + “The crows and herons, I suppose,” said the drover coolly. “Anyhow none of + the folk in the village know where the story started, and nobody but a + bird on the wing could see over those walls. 'Tis said that ten days + hence, if the old doctor don't make gold for them, they'll burn him for a + wizard. Now that's no sense, for if he could make gold he'd be a wizard no + bounds, and they'd not burn him then, I reckon.” + </p> + <p> + Padraig looked down the valley at the tender gold-green grass and the + snowdrift apple-boughs of spring, It seemed impossible that those grim + gray walls held within them this cruel and implacable spirit. “Can I get a + trustworthy messenger?” he asked. “I would send a letter to the Master's + friends.” + </p> + <p> + With the ready understanding of men who see and judge strange faces + constantly, Swart and Padraig had taken each other's measure and been + satisfied. “My nephew Hod will go,” Swart answered. Hod was the son of the + farmer whose house Tomaso had visited. + </p> + <p> + Padraig was busy with tablets and inkhorn. He folded and sealed his note, + written in the clear stubbed hand of the monasteries. “I am Padraig,” he + said, “a scribe of the Irish Benedictines. If the Master comes to harm + there will be a heavy reckoning, but that will come too late. I will + rescue him or die with him—are you with me?” + </p> + <p> + Swart pulled at his huge beard. “The Swarts of Aschenrugge,” he said, + “have dwelt too long in these parts to bow neck to a Templar. Hod shall + ride with the letter, and if it be thy choice to risk thine own life for + thy master's I've no call to betray thee.” + </p> + <p> + A dark-browed yokel came to the door with the bridle of Swart's best horse + over his arm. “Take this,” Padraig directed, “to Robert Edrupt, the wool + merchant at Long Lea near Stratton. If he be from home give it to his wife + Barbara and tell her to open and read it. She is wise and will do what is + right. Here is money—all I have—but you shall be paid well + when the errand is done; I have asked Edrupt to see to that.” + </p> + <p> + Hod stuck his thumbs in his belt. “Put up thy money,” he muttered. “The + old doctor he cured our Cicely, he did.” + </p> + <p> + The messenger gone, Padraig went straight to the Temple and asked to see + the Preceptor. Gregory listened at first with suspicion, then with wonder, + to what the stranger told. It seemed that, hearing that a famous alchemist + was at work in the Temple, he had come to crave the privilege of acting as + his servant. It was, he said, absolutely necessary that such a master + should have a disciple at hand for the actual work, and be left + undisturbed in meditation meanwhile. + </p> + <p> + “Is this necessary to the making of gold?” asked Gregory. + </p> + <p> + “Surely,” Padraig assured him. “The pupil cannot do the work of the + master, the master must not be compelled to labor as the pupil. It is + written in our books—Feliciter is sapit, qui periculo alieno sapit—Those + are fortunate who learn at the risk of another,—and again, He is + wise who profits by others' folly.” + </p> + <p> + Gregory eyed the stranger warily, but in Padraig's blue eyes he saw only + childlike innocence and fanatical zeal. If a madman, he was a useful one. + By his help the experiments could be carried on without imperiling any + Templar. He directed a page to show Padraig the way to Tomaso's chamber. + </p> + <p> + “My son!” said the physician as he lifted his eyes from his writing and + saw who was in the doorway, “how came you here?” + </p> + <p> + “I came to be with you, Master,” Padraig answered with a glance behind him + to make sure the page was gone, “to rescue you if I can. What else could I + have done?” + </p> + <p> + Then he related his conversation with Gregory. “Through a drover of this + place who is our friend,” he ended, “I have sent word to Robert Edrupt + asking him to get word of this to the King or to the Bishop. But if help + does not come in time—” + </p> + <p> + “Che sara sara (What will be, will be),” said Tomaso coolly. “I have made + a fair copy of these writings in the hope that I might send them to + Brother Basil.” + </p> + <p> + Padraig knelt at the physician's feet, his beseeching eyes raised to the + kindly, serene old face. “Master Tomaso,” he stammered, “they shall not do + this thing—I cannot b-bear it! We have—we have the formula for + the Apples of Sodom, and—and other things. They would give more than + gold for that knowledge.” + </p> + <p> + Tomaso laid a gentle hand upon the young shoulder. “My dear son,” he said, + “when we learned the secrets of Archiater—those secrets which mean + death—we promised one another, all of us, never to use them save to + the glory of God and the honor of our land. Which of these, think you, + would be served by lending them to the evil plots of a traitor?” + </p> + <p> + Padraig caught the hand of his master in both his own. “It is beyond + endurance!” he cried piteously. + </p> + <p> + “I have knowledge,” Tomaso went on, “that this Gregory is partly pledged + to the faction of Prince John. The Templars have no country, but they + think, with some reason, that they can bend John to their purposes. What + would they do, with the power these fires of Tophet would give them? + Padraig, there is no safety in the breaking of a pledge.” + </p> + <p> + A thought came into the boy's mind, and a wild hope with it. “Master + Tomaso,” he cried, “if I can find a way to use our knowledge without + breaking the pledge, will you give me my way?” + </p> + <p> + The Paduan looked long into the uplifted eager face. “It is good to be so + loved,” he said. “I will trust you. Yet grieve not, whatever comes,—the + stars are my fortress, God is my lamp. The bridge to eternal life is very + short.” + </p> + <p> + Padraig's cell was the one just below, and the window looked out across + the moors. Chin on his crossed arms, he pondered long under the stars. The + next day he informed the Preceptor that the alchemist was ready to begin + the making of Spanish gold, and must on no account be disturbed. + </p> + <p> + He showed Gregory the formula. It was not very easy to understand, but it + was impressive. Cockatrice eggs were to be placed carefully in a nest in a + stone walled underground chamber, which must be sealed from the outer air + when all was ready. Snakes and toads brooding thereon would in time hatch + out baby monsters—creatures with cocks' heads and the tails and + wings of dragons. Their look was sure death, but they could be poisoned by + a draught compounded of agrimony, dill and vervain. This must be prepared + beforehand and left in a bason where the cockatrice when hatched would + find and drink of it. When all were dead they were to be brayed in a + mortar with other necessary ingredients. When the stars indicated that the + fortunate hour was at hand, the compound was to be heated in a crucible + over a large brazier, covered with a layer of chaff to absorb the + poisonous gases that arose. That which remained in the crucible would be + pure gold. + </p> + <p> + “'Tis a fearsome business,” said Padraig naively, “for men hate wizards.” + </p> + <p> + “Let them hate, if they fear us as well,” muttered Gregory poring over the + mysterious phrases. Visions arose in his mind of a Grand Master whose + power should have no limit, whom Kings must serve and Sultans fear. Nay, + not only should the Holy Temple be recovered, but it should be built anew, + overlaid with gold as in Solomon's day. He called a steward and ordered + him to fit up a cellar, formerly a passage into the vaults of the oldest + part of the building, with all needful utensils. Braziers, crucibles, + retorts and all the usual materials in the way of metals and powders were + there, but of course, no cockatrice eggs. + </p> + <p> + “He brought these from Andalusia,” said Padraig, showing seven small eggs + mottled with crimson and black in a medicine box. Gregory touched one very + gingerly. They were in fact waxen shells filled with volatile liquids, and + Padraig had spent most of the night preparing them. He explained that they + were no larger than frogs' eggs when he first had them,—which was + perfectly true, the wax having been carried in the form of balls. + </p> + <p> + Sulphurous odors came from the cellar where the eggs were supposed to be + hatching in their nest. An unwary hound sniffing about the door got a + throatful of the stinging smoke and fled yowling. Hydrochloric acid, + vitriol and nitre-glycerine are kittle things to meddle with, and the + place was religiously avoided. + </p> + <p> + From the too free tongue of a cellarer one night Padraig learned that this + chamber adjoined the treasure-vaults of the Temple, but the communicating + door had been walled up. When the gold should be ready it could be + conveyed into the treasury direct, by reopening this doorway. + </p> + <p> + One evening Prince John rode up to the gate with a company of Norman + men-at-arms and a few courtiers. It was understood that he had come to + investigate the reputed sorceries. On the same day three strangers came + into the village and tarried at Swart's house on Aschenrugge. He often + lodged travelers for a night, being near the highway. Padraig, spying a + white signal on the giant ash which gave the ridge its name, told the + impatient Preceptor that the hour was at hand. + </p> + <p> + Among the villagers it was said that the physician and his disciple were + guarded closely night and day, and that the Paduan certainly would be + burned at the stake if he did not succeed in making gold. Country folk had + seen the stake set up and the faggots piled. In case the wizard proved a + false prophet Gregory meant to make the execution as public as possible. + </p> + <p> + Padraig explained that the final trial must take place inter canis et + lupus—between dog and wolf—in that hour which is neither + daylight nor dark. As dusk fell the knights and esquires of the Temple + ranged themselves in orderly ranks along the walls, at some distance from + the door of the underground chamber. The low archway was now open; the + glow of a brazier showed red against the rear wall. Torches lighted the + stone-paved yard, and beyond the open gate the white faces of peasants + crowded, awe-stricken and expectant. When the physician was brought out by + the guards to a seat near the stake, the sobs of a woman were heard in the + outer darkness. Padraig, following, cast a swift glance through the gate + and saw the dim shapes of horsemen outlined against the sky. + </p> + <p> + Last of all appeared the Preceptor and Prince John with their immediate + followers, and took their seats midway in the ranks of onlookers, directly + opposite the door, where they could see every stage of the proceedings. + Gregory, furtively scanning the face of the physician, saw therein not a + sign of fear. Padraig advanced into the open space before the cellar, and + bowed to Prince John and the Preceptor. Then from a niche within the door + of the chamber he lifted a large crucible, and a siffle of indrawn breath + was heard in the crowd as he carried it toward the fire. Gathering pitchy + twigs and chaff from a heap of fuel he packed them deftly into the open + top, and set the jar on the brazier, returning then to the side of Tomaso. + </p> + <p> + The minutes passed but slowly. The nerves of all the spectators were + strung to the snapping-point. Gregory finally began to explain to Prince + John, who looked half curious and half skeptical,— + </p> + <p> + “This crucible, your Grace, is now throwing off the vapors generated by + fervent heat. When these have been absorbed by the chaff above, the gold + will be found beneath. The possibilities of this priceless formula are not + as yet altogether known. We do not know what may come to light. You may be + astounded—” + </p> + <p> + The chaff in the crucible caught fire from a wisp that thrust up into it + from the brazier, flared up of a sudden and lighted every corner of the + old cellar. It revealed the craning neck and slack jaw of Gregory, the + covetous glittering eyes and incredulous smile of Prince John, the scared + faces of the huddling peasants. Then there was a crash that shook the + earth. Battlements rocked, pavements cracked, blocks of stone leaped into + the air like a fountain of masonry. When fire encounters high explosives + in a tunnel the results are remarkable. Torches dropped or were blown out, + and stumbling, cursing men ran right and left—anywhere to escape the + pelting stones. Padraig, holding to his master's arm, guided him out of + the gate and toward the sound of trampling hoofs upon a little hillock. + There they found Edrupt, Guy and Alan struggling with their frantic + horses. Swart came up with two more horses, and soon the party was beyond + all danger of pursuit. + </p> + <p> + When the stunned and bewildered Templars recovered their breath, they saw + nothing of the alchemist or of his disciple. It was felt to be just and + right if they had been carried off bodily by the foul fiend. No one else + was missing, though broken heads and bruises were everywhere. Only when + dawn paled the heavens did the boldest of John's mercenaries venture back + to the place of terror. + </p> + <p> + There was a great hole in the rear wall of the cellar, and among the ruins + lay shining heaps of gold—not bezants or zecchins, but wedges and + bars of a strange reddish hue. They touched it warily; it was not red-hot. + They filled their pouches, and others came and did likewise. The + hard-riding veterans had had no opportunity to plunder for more than a + year, and John had little money for himself and none for them. When + Gregory came on the scene, white and shaking with rage, and somewhat + damaged about the face from flying stones, it was too late to hide his + ingots. Gold of Spain or of Beelzebub, it was all one to John Sansterre. + What little the troopers had left went into the gaping leather bags of + their master, while Gregory looked on, grinding his teeth. + </p> + <p> + It was not in the nature of Prince John to believe much in miracles, but + it suited him to accept this one, whole. With a jesting compliment upon + the success of the formula and an intimation that he would like more such + entertainment, John departed next day well pleased with his perquisition. + </p> + <p> + All this came duly to the ears of Swart the drover, and was told by him + when he came by Edrupt's house a few days later. + </p> + <p> + “How did it happen so suitably, Padraig of my heart?” asked Tomaso, his + deep eyes twinkling. + </p> + <p> + Padraig chuckled in pure delight. “I guessed that if our Apples of Sodom + were properly ripe they'd blow a hole in the treasury wall. Those Norman + thieves are not the men to balk at a little brimstone, and I figured that + Master Gregory would be too busy to think of us for awhile. He took that + formula for himself. Much good may he get of it. In place o' the copper + and sulphur and nitre and the like I set down our cipher—snakes and + toads and scorpions, Maltese cocks, unicorn's blood and so on. The + cellarer said there was a lot o' foreign gold locked up in there, and that + must ha' been what was heaved out. I warrant there'll be no more Black + Magic in Temple Assheton.” + </p> + <p> + THE EBBING TIDE + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The sun has gone from the heights of heaven, + The knights a-tilting no longer ride, + The sails are vanished, the beaches empty— + There is nothing left but the ebbing tide. + + At dawn we sounded our heady challenge, + At noon our blood beat high i' the sun, + At eve we rode where the wolf-pack follow— + The night is falling, our course is run. + + But the tide runs out through the gates of sunset, + And the living fires of Atlantis glow + Between the clouds and the long sea-level, + Beyond the waters we used to know. + + Hy-Brasail gleams with its towers of beryl, + Tourmaline, hyacinth, topaz and pearl, + Free to the King if he have but the pass-word, + Free to the veriest low-born churl. + + For Earth levels all who have known her and loved her, + And the soul fares forth where the great stars guide + On the viewless path of the calling waters— + Out to Hy-Brasail upon the tide! +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XVI. — THE END OF A PILGRIMAGE + </h2> + <p> + Eleanor and Roger sat together in their own especial loop-hole window. + When that window was new and they were little, the great stone hall with + its massive arches was unfamiliar and lonely to them, and they liked to + sit apart in this nook that seemed made for them. Four steps led up to it, + a stone seat was within it, and it was at a comfortable distance from the + warmth of the fire. Sitting there, they could look out upon the changeful + beautiful landscape, or down upon the doings in the hall. + </p> + <p> + Now all the land was blanketed with heavy snow. The tree-trunks were + charcoal-black under the stars; lights twinkled in the huts at the foot of + the hill; the frozen river made no sound beneath the castle wall. Cattle + and sheep were snug and safe in the byres, guarded by the wise watch-dogs. + Very far away in the woods an owl hooted. + </p> + <p> + It was the beginning of Yule, in that breathing-time before the holiday + begins, when one gets the fine aroma of its pleasure. The festivities this + year would be greater than ever before, for a new banquet-hall was to be + opened with the Christmas feast. This hall was the realized dream of + years. Thus far the only place for entertainments had been the hall of the + keep, which was also the living-room of the household. The new hall was a + separate one-story building, not unlike a barn in shape, spacious enough + for thirty or forty guests with their retainers and servants. Its red + tiled roof, raised upon seasoned beams two or three feet thick, made an + imposing show. The doorway took in almost half of one end and was lofty + enough for a standard-bearer to come in without dipping his banner. There + was a fireplace near the middle of one side, with a hooded stone arch to + draw the smoke upward and outward. Opposite was a musicians' gallery of + paneled oak, supported by corbels of stone placed about eight feet above + the floor. A dais was built at the other end of the building from the + entrance, for the master's table, and from this a smaller door opened into + a stone passageway leading to the castle, while near it another door, + leading to the kitchens, was placed. The stone walls were wainscoted about + halfway up, and plastered above, the plaster being first painted a golden + brown and then decorated with a pattern of stiff small flowers and leaves + in green, red, bright blue and a little gilding. The floor was of stone + blocks laid in a pattern of black and gray, and two steps led from the + dais to the lower part of the hall. At intervals along the upper part of + the walls were cressets of wrought iron in which to set torches, and above + the dais were silver sconces for large wax candles. At intervals also were + hooks of ornamental iron-work, from which to hang tapestries by their + metal rings. + </p> + <p> + Eleanor had spent the greater part of the afternoon helping her mother get + out the sets of tapestries reserved for holiday occasions, among them some + which had been kept for this very hall. Not all were the work of the lady + herself. Some were woven and embroidered by her maids under her direction, + others were gifts from friends, and the superb piece which hung above the + dais and represented the marriage of Ulysses and Penelope had been woven + in Saumur and was the gift of the King. The chairs of state with their + ebony or ivory footstools were placed, the candles in the sconces, the + rushes and sweet herbs had been strewn upon the floor. Even the holiday + meats and pastries were cooked or made ready for cooking. Until after + Twelfth Night the only work done would be the necessary duties of each + day. + </p> + <p> + There was shouting and laughter in the courtyard. In came most of the boys + and young men of the place, bearing the great Yule log into the hall. + Collet the maid, who had just come in with her mistress, bearing the Yule + candle, was sent to get the charred remnant of last year's log. Both log + and candle would burn through the twelve holidays without being quite + consumed, and the bit that was left would be saved to light next year's + fires. These familiar homely ceremonies were not for the stately untouched + newness of the banquet-room. + </p> + <p> + Supper was but just over, and the roasted crab-apples were spluttering in + the bowls of brown ale, when the mummers came, capering in their very best + fashion and habited in antic robes whose pattern—if not the costume + itself—had come down from past generations. These actors were + village clowns who had seen such pageants in their boyhood, and they + played their rude drama as they had seen it then, with perhaps a new song + or two and a few speeches to tickle the ears of the new audience. All the + household and many of the villagers crowded in after them to look and + laugh and make remarks more or less humorous about the performance. The + lord of the castle and his family disposed themselves to give their + countenance to the merrymaking, and Sir Walter ordered the steward to see + that the players had a good supper. He himself would distribute some money + among them when the time came. Then they would go on to give the play + wherever else they could hope for an audience. + </p> + <p> + The drama was supposed to be founded on the life of Saint George, but no + one could say with truth that it was very much like the legend. First came + a herald tooting on a cow-horn, to proclaim the entrance of the champion, + who was Clement the carpenter mounted on a hobby-horse and armed with + wooden sword and painted buckler. There was much giggling and whispering + among the maids, directed at the demure black-eyed Madelon, of the + still-room. This may have been a reason why Saint George stumbled so + desperately over his rather long speech. His challenge was at last + finished, and then was heard a discordant clashing of tambourines and + horse-bells, supposed to indicate Saracen music. In cantered a turbaned + Turk on another hobby,—black this time—and in another long + speech very smoothly delivered defied the saint to mortal combat. There + was more tittering, for Tom the blacksmith was also an admirer of that + minx Madelon. The fight was a very lively one, and Saint George had some + trouble in holding his own. + </p> + <p> + When the Saracen lay gasping for breath (very naturally, the victor having + placed his foot upon his breast) the saint somewhat awkwardly expressed + sorrow for his deed and sighed for a doctor. There was a burst of laughter + and applause as Ralph the bowyer, the comedian of the company, came + limping in, got up in the character of an old quack who had physicked half + the spectators. He bled and bandaged and salved and dosed the fallen + warrior, keeping up a running fire of remarks the while, until the wounded + man arose and went prancing off as good as new. There was no dragon, but + Giles the miller appeared as Beelzebub to avenge the defeat of the paynim, + and was routed in fine style. At the end a company of waits sang carols + while the performers got their breath and repaired damages. The cream of + the comedy, to the friends of the wicked Madelon, lay in the fact that she + had the day before given her promise to Ralph, binding him to say naught + to his rivals until the mumming was safely over. + </p> + <p> + While the players were drinking the health of their lord in his own good + brew, the horn sounded at the gate, and the old porter, who had been + watching the mummery, elbowed his way out with some grumbling to see who + could be there. In a few minutes a tall man entered the hall, wearing the + garb of a Palmer or pilgrim from the Holy Land—a long cloak with a + cape and a hood that shadowed the face, a staff, a scrip and sandals. At + sight of him a surprised hush fell upon the company. The common folk drew + apart to let him pass, not quite sure but this was a new figure in the + play. But Sir Walter Giffard rose to his feet after one swift glance at + the newcomer, and as the latter threw back his cowl, the host quickly + advanced to embrace him, crying, “Stephen! We feared that you were dead!” + </p> + <p> + Lady Philippa came forward also, with shining eyes and parted lips, + beckoning to the children to join in the welcome of the stranger. Eleanor + scarcely remembered this uncle of hers, whom she had not seen since + leaving Normandy. His eyes were so sad that she felt very sorry for him, + but his smile was so kind that no one could help loving him. He reminded + her of Saint Christopher, who had always been a favorite of hers because + he kept away bad dreams. + </p> + <p> + Stephen Giffard had been ransomed by John de Matha, the Provencal monk who + had given himself to the work of rescuing and befriending prisoners. + Hearing from his rescuers that Lady Adelicia, his wife, had gone with rich + gifts to the Holy Land in the hope that her prayers might bring him home, + he took ship to Jaffa and there learned that she had died in Jerusalem. + Now he had settled his affairs and come in the guise of a pilgrim to spend + the Christmas season with his kinfolk in England. + </p> + <p> + The two brothers sat and talked by the smoldering fire until late that + night, speaking of divers things. It was no wish of Sir Stephen's that his + unexpected coming should interrupt or change the holiday plans. Indeed, + many of the guests were his friends as well as his brother's. Eleanor + wondered a little next day, why this recovered kinsman made in one way so + little difference in the life of the household, and yet made so deep an + impression. He was not himself merry, and still he seemed to enter into + the joy of others and make it more satisfying. She tried to express this + thought to her mother. The lady smiled, and sighed. + </p> + <p> + “He is a very good man,” she said. “He was always good, and although he + has had great troubles they have not made him hard or bitter—which + is not a common thing. We must do all that we can for him while he is + here, for that will not be long. He is going back among the paynim.” + </p> + <p> + “But why, mother?” asked Eleanor, bewildered. + </p> + <p> + Lady Philippa shook her head. “I think because he is almost—or quite—a + saint. Perhaps he will tell you by-and-by.” + </p> + <p> + It seemed passing strange that Sir Stephen should wish to return to the + Moslems after suffering as he had suffered among them, but there was no + time for further discussion then. + </p> + <p> + Later in the day, when Sir Walter was talking with his steward and Lady + Philippa was giving final directions to maids and cooks and dapifers, + Eleanor and Roger found Sir Stephen seated alone by the flickering, + purring Yule-log. Before they quite knew it they were telling him of all + their favorite occupations and plays. He seemed as much interested as if + they had been his own children. + </p> + <p> + “This Yule,” he said musingly after a little, “might be in another world + from the last. And once I spent the day in Bethlehem of Judea.” + </p> + <p> + It sounded almost as if he had said he had been to heaven. They had never + seen any one who had actually been in Bethlehem. + </p> + <p> + “There was a company of us,” he went on, “some twenty in all, who landed + after a rough voyage, very sea-weary and thankful to the saints. Glad were + we to find the Knights Templars ready to guard us through the desert. + Since our people have built churches and shrines in the Holy Land, and + pilgrims who visit these places bring with them gold and gems for the + decking thereof, there be many bands of robbers who infest the desert in + the hope of plunder. Often finding no spoil, they maltreat or murder their + victims. For this cause were the Templars and the Hospitallers + established. The Templars may have grown proud and arrogant as some say, + but I must give them this credit, that their black and white banner is + mightily respected by the heathen. + </p> + <p> + “Having come safely through the wilderness, we entered Bethlehem as it + chanced upon Christmas Eve, and the town was full of pilgrims and + travelers, so that we had to find shelter where we could. The inns there + are builded in a very old fashion. I think they have not changed since the + time of our Lord. A large open space is walled in with mud or brick or + stone, and hath a well in the middle. Around the inside of the walls are + shelters for horses and pack animals, and sometimes—not always—there + is a house where rooms are let to those who can pay. The one at our inn + was already crowded, so that we had to make shift with fresh straw in the + stalls with our beasts. They gave us flat unleavened cakes of bread, dried + dates, and something like frumenty, with kebobs of mutton roasted, and + water to drink. When we had supped we sat about on our baggage and watched + the people still coming in. + </p> + <p> + “You have never seen a camel? No? They be marvelous beasts. They stand + taller than the tallest charger, and travel like the wind on four feet. I + saw three humps like mountains against the sky, coming in at the gate, and + the beasts kneeled down at the word of command and were unloaded. Their + masters came from the East, somewhere beyond Arabia, and were wise in the + lore of the stars. How know I that? Wait and I will tell. + </p> + <p> + “Shepherds came also with their sheep, softly bleating and huddling in + their cramped quarters. Last of all came a poor man and his wife with a + very small babe, and they and their donkey took the last bit of space in + our corner. + </p> + <p> + “I tell you it is surprising what men will do for a tiny child and its + tender mother. There was a grumpy old Flanders merchant in our company, + who thought only of his own comfort, but now he sent his servant to take a + mantle to the mother because she looked like his daughter at home, who had + named her boy for him. And there was a peevish clerk who had paid for the + last bowl of pottage they had, who gave it to the little family and supped + on bread. + </p> + <p> + “Weary as we were, and much as our bones ached, we found solace in looking + at the child as it slept and thinking of the children we had known at + home. I think,” the knight added with a half smile, “that if it had + wakened and cried out, the spell might have broken. But it was a sweet + small thing, and it slumbered as if it had been cradled in down. + </p> + <p> + “Through the still air we heard the bells calling the monks to prayer. And + then the baby woke, and looked about with wondering innocent eyes, and + stretched out its little hands and laughed. I would you could have seen + that grave company then. Every man of them sought a share in that sweet + sudden laughter. The merchant dangled his gold chain, the clerk made + clownish gestures, the merchant put a golden zecchin into the tiny fingers + for a toy. And when it slept again we slept also, or watched the stars and + thought of that star which long ago stood over Bethlehem. + </p> + <p> + “There was a learned doctor in our company who understood Eastern + languages and could converse in Arabic with the wise men from the East. + They told him that in their country there is a tradition that their + astrologers, reading the heavens as is their wont, saw Saturn, Jupiter and + Mercury foregather in the House of the Fishes that rules Judea, and knew + by this that at such a time and in such a place a prophet should be born. + Therefore came they to visit the child with rich gifts, and gained from + the parents a promise that when he was of an age to learn, he should be + brought to their country to learn of their wisdom, even as Moses was + skilled in all the wisdom of the Egyptians. I know not whether there can + be any truth in the legend, but that is their belief. And yet they are not + Christians, but heathen.” + </p> + <p> + Sir Stephen smiled at the two puzzled young faces. + </p> + <p> + “Nay, more,” he went on, “even the followers of Mahound revere Christ as a + prophet. Their name for Him is Ruh' Allah. I have seen a Moslem beat his + Christian slave for using an oath that dishonored the name of Christ. In + truth, I have come to think that there are very few unbelievers in the + world. Much wickedness there is—but not unbelief.” + </p> + <p> + “Mother says,” Eleanor ventured shyly, “that you are going away to live + among the paynim.” + </p> + <p> + “Aye.” The knight smiled his fleeting, tender smile. “It is a grief to + her, sweet lady, that I cannot dwell in comfort among you and think no + more of voyages. But there is a work laid upon me, which I must do.” + </p> + <p> + “A Crusade?” The word was just inside Roger's lips, and it slipped out + before he thought. Sir Stephen smiled again. + </p> + <p> + “Nay. My fighting days are over. But I believe that even a broken man may + serve if he be honestly so minded. I must tell you that for many years I + had been troubled, and found no peace, because even among churchmen there + was sloth and selfish greed, and the desire to rule, and the pilgrims whom + I met seemed often moved rather by vanity and love of change than from any + true fear of God. But as you know, I had but begun my homeward journey + when our ship was taken by pirates and the few who were left alive were + sold as slaves. + </p> + <p> + “It is not needful to tell all that befell me as a bondman among the Moors + of Barbary. My master was a renegade knight who had forsworn the Cross and + risen to some preferment among the Almohades. His hate was upon me day and + night, and I knew that my lady and my kindred must believe me dead. And in + that black horror of loneliness and despair I found my faith. + </p> + <p> + “God speaks to us not always in books, nor in words, nor in one place more + than another. His ways are as the wind that blows where it will. It is not + what men do to us that kills—it is what they make of us. They cannot + make a soul cruel or foul or treacherous, that hath not lost God. What is + the power of a multitude? Christ died. And His life is the light of men. + </p> + <p> + “Knighthood is a fair and noble thing, but its vows have no magic—no + more than the oaths of the guilds, or the monastic orders, or the + allegiance of the vassal to his lord. It is the living spirit that keeps + the vows—and when that is gone their power is less than nothing. + Once I could not see how it was possible for a man to renounce his + knighthood and his Lord. I have lived with such a man, and I know that it + came of his losing faith. He lost the power to believe in good. I think + that he hated me because I reminded him of his own land and all that he no + longer wished to remember. + </p> + <p> + “Now having known the scourge and the fetters, I may speak to the bondman + as a brother. I am alone, with none to need me. Therefore I go hence to + join the brethren who are giving their lives to this ministry.” + </p> + <p> + The Palmer rose to his feet as if in haste to be gone. “I weary you + perchance with talk too serious for holiday-time,” he said with that quick + smile of his, “but when you come to your own work you will know how close + to the heart that lies. Now be glad and make others glad—it was + never God's will, I am right sure, that this world should be a doleful + place for the young.” + </p> + <p> + The piercing silvery notes of the trumpets in the chill air, the trampling + of horses in the bailey, gave notice of the arrival of guests. There was + no more leisure that day. + </p> + <p> + In the glitter and glow and splendor of the banquet hall, with its music + and gayety, the tall gray figure of the Palmer moved like a spirit. As the + guests came one after another to speak with him of his experiences and his + plans, their kindling faces proved his rare power of making them see what + he saw. To Stephen Giffard the presence of God was as real as the sunrise. + In the light of his utter self-sacrifice the loyalty, sweetness and + courage of other lives seemed to shine out more brightly. It was all one + with the immortal world of Christendom—ruled by the living spirit of + the child cradled in Bethlehem centuries ago. + </p> + <p> + THE CRUSADERS + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Daily we waited word or sign— + They were our children, these + Who held the unsleeping battle-line + Beyond the haunted seas, + Who gave their golden unlived years + And that clear pathway trod + Lifting through sunset gates of fire + To the far tents of God. + + Through trackless realms of unknown space + They wander, unafraid, + For nothing do they fear to face + In worlds that God has made. + Freed from the shattered bonds of earth + They meet their comrades free, + To share the service of the Lord + In truth and loyalty. + + Elizabeth's wise admirals guard + Their dear-loved England's coast. + From Somme and Meuse no cannon barred + The Maid's undaunted host. + And still the Foreign Legion hears + In every desperate chance + Her children's crashing battle-cry— + “For France! For France! For France!” + + The captains of the hosts of God + Know every man by name, + When from the torn and bleeding sod + Their spirits pass like flame. + The maid must wait her lover still, + The mother wait her son,— + For very love they may not leave + The task they have begun. + + If secret plot of greed or fear + Shall bid the trumpets cease, + And bind the lands they held so dear + To base dishonored peace, + How shall their white battalions rest + Or sheathe the sword of light,— + The unbroken armies of our dead, + Who have not ceased to fight! +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_NOTE" id="link2H_NOTE"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + NOTES + </h2> + <p> + PEIROL OF THE PIGEONS + </p> + <p> + The troubadour, minstrel and jongleur or joglar, were not the same in + dignity. A troubadour or trouvere was a poet who sang his own compositions + to his own music. A jongleur was a singer who was not a poet, though he + might make songs. He corresponded more nearly to the modern vaudeville + performer. The minstrel was something between the two. + </p> + <p> + THE TAPESTRY CHAMBER + </p> + <p> + Saint George was not formally adopted as the patron saint of England until + some time after this. + </p> + <p> + LULLABY OF THE PICT MOTHER + </p> + <p> + This song may be sung to a very old Scotch air called “O can ye sew + cushions.” + </p> + <p> + THE WOLVES OF OSSORY + </p> + <p> + The werewolf superstition is very persistent, and has been held in many + countries until quite recent times. + </p> + <p> + ST. HUGH AND THE BIRDS + </p> + <p> + The reference is to St. Hugh, Bishop of Lincoln, who is represented with + his pet swan in most of his portraits. He founded a Carthusian monastery + by the invitation of Henry II., at Witham in Somerset, and built the choir + and a considerable part of Lincoln Cathedral. The stories of his love for + birds are found in old chronicles. + </p> + <p> + THE SWORD OF DAMASCUS + </p> + <p> + An armorer's shop very like the one described has been brought from + Abbeville and set up in the Metropolitan Museum of Art in one of the rooms + devoted to armor. + </p> + <p> + THE WISDOM OF THE GALLEYS + </p> + <p> + “Y'Allah!” (O God!) is a common exclamation, often used as meaning “Make + Haste!” Abu Hassan is “the father of Hassan,” In Moslem countries a father + often uses his son's name in this way, allowing his own to be almost + forgotten. + </p> + <p> + Khawaja, Khawadji or Howadji is a title of respect given exclusively to + unbelievers. + </p> + <p> + The Breach of Roland—Roncesvalles. + </p> + <p> + Jebel el Tarik—Gibraltar. + </p> + <p> + Iskanderia—Alexandria. + </p> + <p> + “Ma sh' Allah!” (What does God mean!) the commonest exclamation of + surprise. + </p> + <p> + Feringhi—Frankish, French. + </p> + <p> + Kafir—Infidel, heathen, a term of extreme contempt. + </p> + <p> + Ahmed ibn Said—Ahmed the son of Said. + </p> + <p> + THE EBBING TIDE + </p> + <p> + Hy-Brasail is the Celtic name for the Fortunate Islands, the Isles of + Avilion, said to be situated somewhere west of Europe. The dead were said + to go westward to these islands, which were a paradise. + </p> + <p> + THE END OF A PILGRIMAGE + </p> + <p> + John de Matha founded the Order of the Holy Trinity, sometimes known as + the Redemptorist Fathers, sometimes as the Mathurins. He was afterward + made a saint. He was the first to make any serious effort to alleviate the + condition of prisoners, especially slaves among the Moslems. + </p> + <p> + The legend of the Star of Bethlehem referred to is one which is still + current in India. + </p> + <div style="height: 6em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Masters of the Guild, by L. 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