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+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: June 30, 2013
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MASTERS OF THE GUILD ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks and the
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+MASTERS OF THE GUILD
+
+By L. Lamprey
+
+Author of "In the Days of the Guild"
+
+Illustrated by Florence Choate and Elizabeth Curtis
+
+New York
+
+1920
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+To Dorothy
+
+I
+
+PEIROL OF THE PIGEONS
+
+Bellerophon
+
+II
+
+A TOURNAMENT IN THE CLOUDS
+
+The Jesters
+
+III
+
+THE PUPPET PLAYERS
+
+The Abbot's Lesson
+
+IV
+
+PADRAIG OF THE SCRIPTORIUM
+
+Cap O' Rushes
+
+V
+
+THE TAPESTRY CHAMBER
+
+The Castle
+
+VI
+
+THE FAIRIES' WELL
+
+Lullaby of the Pict Mother
+
+VII
+
+THE WOLVES OF OSSORY
+
+St. Hugh and the Birds
+
+VIII
+
+THE ROAD OF THE WILD SWAN
+
+The Lances
+
+IX
+
+THE SWORD OF DAMASCUS
+
+Awakening
+
+X
+
+FOOL'S GOLD
+
+To Josian from Prison
+
+XI
+
+ARCHIATER'S DAUGHTER
+
+New Altars
+
+XII
+
+COLD HARBOR
+
+Galley Song
+
+XIII
+
+THE WISDOM OF THE GALLEYS
+
+Harbor Song
+
+XIV
+
+SOLOMON'S SEAL
+
+The Leprechaun
+
+XV
+
+BLACK MAGIC IN THE TEMPLE
+
+The Ebbing Tide
+
+XVI
+
+THE END OF A PILGRIMAGE
+
+The Crusaders
+
+NOTES
+
+
+
+LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+"The boy gave a low call and a soft rush of wings was heard"
+Frontispiece
+
+"'You have your choice--to remain here quietly, alive, or to remain
+permanently, dead'"
+
+"'How now, Master Stephen! What foolery is this?'"
+
+"It was the first time Padraig had seen anyone write"
+
+"'Every inch of this linen will be covered with embroidery'" (in colors)
+
+"''Tis the brat of a scatter-brained woman'"
+
+"Directly in front sounded the unmistakable snarl of a wolf"
+
+"An immense boar stumbled out and charged at Eleanor's horse"
+
+"'Belike he got it where he's been--in the Holy Land'" (in colors)
+
+"'I know all about your search for treasure'"
+
+"'He called me his mouse and if I kept still I had cheese for my
+dinner'"
+
+"Nothing would do but that they all should go immediately to see what
+had come to light"
+
+"Andrea was at work upon the carving of the doorway"
+
+"A siffle of indrawn breath was heard in the crowd as he carried it to
+the fire" (in colors)
+
+"There was shouting and laughter in the courtyard"
+
+
+
+
+DEDICATION
+
+TO DOROTHY
+
+ 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!
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+PEIROL OF THE PIGEONS
+
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"And who are you, my lad?"
+
+"Peirol, the gooseherd's boy," the youngster replied composedly. "You're
+none of the family, are you?"
+
+"Only a jongleur. You have a great many pigeons here."
+
+"That's why I came in when I heard you playing. Does she--Lady
+Philippa--like pigeons?"
+
+"I think she does. In fact I know she does. Why?"
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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."
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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:
+
+ "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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+"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.
+
+"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."
+
+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."
+
+Ranulph nodded, thoughtfully. "The King would be glad of more such
+service," he said. "Good fortune be with you!"
+
+
+
+ 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!
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+A TOURNAMENT IN THE CLOUDS
+
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+Alazais laughed her pretty rippling laugh.
+
+"The fortress is not yet built," she said with a toss of her golden
+head. "We are not going to live among the heathen."
+
+"You men!" pouted Beatriz. "You are always thinking of battles and
+sieges, wars and jousting. Perhaps you would like a tournament of
+pigeons!"
+
+"Why not?" queried Savaric undisturbed. "It would be highly amusing."
+
+"I lay my wager on Blanchette here," said Peire d'Acunha. "She is as
+graceful as a lady. She shows her breeding."
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+"He was always over-fond of laying wagers," yawned d'Acunha. "He is
+probably betting his head on this Irish wild-goose chase."
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+The Count was talking to Gualtier Giffard about the Irish venture.
+
+"If the Normans rule Ireland," he observed, "your fortunes may improve.
+A grant of land there might be worth your while."
+
+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."
+
+"Ah," said the Count with a quizzical lift of the eyebrow, "in that case
+you are very right."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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?"
+
+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.
+
+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."
+
+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?"
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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?"
+
+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."
+
+Ranulph bowed very low and left the hall.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+Peirol heard the scheme with wide-eyed gravity. At the end he nodded.
+
+"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."
+
+"Good!" laughed the troubadour. "That was a lucky answer, Peirol. And
+here comes the cook to make the pie."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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!"
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"Ever your servant,
+
+"RANULPH D'AVIGNON."
+
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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!"
+
+
+
+ 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!
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+THE PUPPET PLAYERS
+
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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,
+
+"Who are they?"
+
+"They are Swabian cavalry," answered the other. "We were none too soon.
+The army is mustering already."
+
+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,
+
+"What's in those great saddle-bags, my friend?"
+
+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,
+
+"I crave your pardon, master. I do not understand your question."
+
+"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."
+
+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,
+
+    "'Fantoccini, fantoccino,--
+      Chi s'arrischia baldacchino,
+      Ognuno per se,
+      Diavolo per tutti.'"
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"How now, Master Stephen!" he said sternly. "What foolery is this?"
+
+"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?"
+
+The steward was not satisfied. "Show me the puppets," he ordered.
+Giovanni obeyed.
+
+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."
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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."
+
+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."
+
+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.
+
+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."
+
+Giovanni's eyes blazed, "And you dare ask a Milanese to drink with you?"
+
+"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."
+
+Giovanni was silent for very amazement. The fool mistook his attitude.
+
+"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.
+
+"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!"
+
+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."
+
+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."
+
+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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"You go," he said, "to the court of Henry Duke of Saxony?"
+
+"Aye, Sire," said the youth.
+
+"It is not a very safe journey. There are robbers in the forest."
+
+"Surely," said Giovanni humbly, "a poor showman might hope to escape
+them?"
+
+"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."
+
+"Who," said Giovanni, wonderingly, "could dream of trifling with your
+expressed wish?"
+
+"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."
+
+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."
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+
+
+THE ABBOT'S LESSON
+
+ 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.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+PADRAIG OF THE SCRIPTORIUM
+
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"Where do men get gold?" Padraig asked one day.
+
+"Out of the earth," answered Brother Basil absently.
+
+"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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"I suppose he was tired of us," Brother Basil said with a sigh. "He is
+only a boy."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+At last he grew tired of Simon's questioning, and took him aside and
+told him a secret.
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+Brother Basil bit his lips to keep back a smile. "Now I wonder," he said
+gravely, "who could have told him such a tale?"
+
+"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."
+
+
+CAP O'RUSHES
+
+ 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!
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+THE TAPESTRY CHAMBER
+
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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."
+
+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.
+
+"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?"
+
+"Not very much older. Perhaps you might begin now. Finish your task
+while I make this curtain whole, and we will see."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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?"
+
+"I think--a set of panels," said Eleanor slowly. "It will take a long
+time, but I should like to do exactly like you."
+
+Lady Philippa gave a little, amused, affectionate laugh that ended in a
+sigh. "But, my dear child, you don't think of copying these?"
+
+"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."
+
+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."
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+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."
+
+"Not so easy as you think, perhaps, sweetheart. However, we can but try.
+You mean the setting forth of the knight?"
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"Why do you like boys better than girls?" he asked her point blank, one
+day.
+
+"Men can fight," Lady Ebba answered, curtly.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"Wouldn't it be beautiful if we could build a castle on the top?"
+Eleanor suggested as they stood looking at it.
+
+"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?"
+
+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.
+
+"I know exactly how to build it, for I saw the building of our castle
+from the very first," Roger explained.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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--"
+
+"The tapestry chamber!" cried Eleanor.
+
+"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."
+
+The two children gazed at their castle mount and almost believed the
+walls, eighteen, twenty, thirty feet thick--rising before their eyes.
+
+"But that isn't all of the castle," said Eleanor at last.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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."
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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."
+
+Eleanor's eyes were starlike. Then her mouth began to droop a little.
+"Is Roger to stay here?"
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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!"
+
+
+THE CASTLE
+
+ 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!
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+THE FAIRIES' WELL
+
+
+"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."
+
+"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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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?"
+
+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."
+
+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."
+
+"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."
+
+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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"I do wonder what is the matter with the wall," mused Eleanor. "Do you
+suppose it can be bewitched, Roger?"
+
+"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."
+
+This was deliciously horrible. "You don't suppose there are snakes under
+our castle, do you, Roger?"
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"Collet doesn't like Ruric either," said Eleanor.
+
+"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?"
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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?"
+
+"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."
+
+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?"
+
+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."
+
+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?"
+
+"He was, my lady, but since he fell into the water he swears that he
+will work no more on the wall."
+
+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?"
+
+"Nay--what have we to do with such gear? But my lady--heard ye never the
+old rhyme--
+
+ "'Overlook the Fairies' Well--
+   None did that since Adam fell;
+   Overlook the Fairies' Hill--
+   Then Old Nick shall have his fill.'"
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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?"
+
+The old woman's brown withered face crinkled in a smile. "Trust you,
+Master Roger!" she muttered. "Come still."
+
+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.
+
+"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?"
+
+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."
+
+"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."
+
+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?"
+
+In private, with only Sir Walter and Lady Philippa to hear, the old
+woman told her secret.
+
+"'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."
+
+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."
+
+The old woman looked up with bright inquiring eyes.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+
+
+LULLABY OF THE PICT MOTHER
+
+ 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!
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+THE WOLVES OF OSSORY
+
+
+Philosophers generally incline to the opinion that the werewolf has no
+tail. Therefore, this being the sign--"
+
+"Nennius positively states that in certain Irish families, the power to
+change at will into a wolf--"
+
+"And who knows how numerous may be these abominable wizards?"
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"Nobody would," said Padraig, "if he went straight north into the hills.
+No one lives near the old road through the forest."
+
+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.
+
+"Are you willing to go alone?" he asked.
+
+"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."
+
+"He is well beloved by the people. If any one had found him we should
+have heard. And you have no fear?"
+
+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."
+
+"Go, my son, and God be with you," said the Abbot solemnly. And Padraig
+went.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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?"
+
+Nothing in heaven or earth could have stopped Padraig then. He broke
+through the thicket into the clearing, and halted, breathless and
+amazed.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"Father," he faltered, "they sent me to find you."
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"Then," stammered Padraig, "it is not true that--that--"
+
+"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."
+
+"He means," snapped the wolf-man, "that one of your own stewards opened
+the gates to us, using our tracks to hide his own."
+
+Padraig grinned knowingly. "Simon," he said. "Simon."
+
+"Even so," said Brother Basil.
+
+"He was very zealous about those wolves," said Padraig, reflectively,
+"especially about using spiritual weapons and not slings and spears
+against them. But how--"
+
+"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."
+
+"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.
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"No,--not with Simon watching the gate," agreed Padraig, cheerfully. "I
+wonder does he know how many lies he has told in this matter?"
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"These men," he said grimly, "are outlaws, red-handed robbers. They have
+broken the law of God and man. They deserve justice, not mercy."
+
+"If they can be caught," ventured Padraig.
+
+"You think they cannot be taken?"
+
+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?"
+
+The Abbot rose and began to pace the floor. "Go, my son," he said not
+unkindly, "and send Simon, the steward, to me."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+
+ 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!"
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+THE ROAD OF THE WILD SWAN
+
+
+ "Four larders God gave man, four shall there ever be--
+  The mountain, the valley, the marsh, and the sea."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+Then Eleanor remembered something. "Oh!" she said pitifully. "O-h!"
+
+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!
+
+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.
+
+"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?"
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+"I see," said the knight thoughtfully. "But what of a man who will take
+a gift with one hand and thieve with the other?"
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"'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."
+
+
+
+THE LANCES
+
+ 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.
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+THE SWORD OF DAMASCUS
+
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"'Tis a sword of Damascus," the old smith said shortly. "Belike he got
+it where he's been--in the Holy Land."
+
+"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.
+
+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."
+
+"Belike Satan taught 'em," grunted Wat of the Weald. "I don't hold wi'
+such trickery myself."
+
+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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"'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."
+
+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?"
+
+"Oh," said Audrey shyly and quickly, her eyes downcast, "I'll do that
+now, if ye like,--Dickon, lad."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+"'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."
+
+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."
+
+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.
+
+"'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."
+
+"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."
+
+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."
+
+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."
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"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?
+
+"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."
+
+"My lord," said Dickon hesitatingly, "you mean that--that--honor is for
+all men--though they take no vows?"
+
+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?"
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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."
+
+
+
+AWAKENING
+
+
+
+ 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!
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+FOOLS' GOLD
+
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+"But what object--" Alan began, and paused.
+
+"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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"May there not have been some friend or pupil," he asked wistfully, "who
+would have rescued his manuscripts?"
+
+"In that case," Tomaso replied with gentle finality, "I think some of us
+must have heard of it."
+
+"And yet," Alan persisted, "some one had those parchments--some one who
+may have received them from Archiater himself."
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"He could not have read most of them," said Tomaso. "Archiater usually
+wrote his diaries in cipher. Who is this clerk?"
+
+"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?"
+
+"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?"
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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?"
+
+The Lombard seldom talked unless he was directly addressed. "One man,"
+he said, "might know the truth."
+
+"Would he reply to a letter?"
+
+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?"
+
+"Why not?" Alan returned.
+
+"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?"
+
+"Only French."
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+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."
+
+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."
+
+"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."
+
+"Vanni," said Guy demurely, "did you ever, in your travels, hear of any
+one making gold?"
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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."
+
+"What is the truth of the matter, do you think?" asked Alan.
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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?"
+
+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."
+
+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?"
+
+"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."
+
+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."
+
+"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."
+
+The fool clasped one knee in his long crooked white fingers. "You have
+no wife, I take it."
+
+"I have not thought about it. But that has nothing to do with secrets of
+the laboratory."
+
+"Heh-heh! Little you know of women. They have everything to do with a
+secret. But suppose the manuscrips are worthless?"
+
+"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?"
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"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?"
+
+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."
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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."
+
+"Then the Templars may still have the manuscripts," mused Alan
+disconsolately.
+
+"Maybe," the fool said with a little laugh, "but I said there might be
+something that was not a manuscript. Come you with me."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+The jester bowed low, his gay fantastic cap in hand, all his fleering,
+mocking manner changed to a gentle deference.
+
+"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."
+
+
+
+TO JOSIAN FROM PRISON
+
+ 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
+
+To Josian my daughter and sole heiress.
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+ARCHIATER'S DAUGHTER
+
+
+Alan was gathering his French for some sort of greeting, when the young
+girl spoke in a sweet clear voice and in English.
+
+"I am glad that you have come," she said. "Father Stephen says that you
+desire to hear of my father."
+
+"I came from England in the hope that I might," Alan answered simply.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+"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.
+
+"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."
+
+"And you have lived here always?"
+
+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."
+
+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."
+
+"All that I know," the young girl said, regretfully. "I really know so
+little of it--and the books were lost."
+
+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."
+
+"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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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?"
+
+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.
+
+"If I had the little books he wrote for me," she said one day, "you
+might find something beautiful in them also."
+
+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?"
+
+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.
+
+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."
+
+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."
+
+"As it is--saints protect her," muttered old Maddalena, and the jester
+smiled his twisted smile.
+
+That evening Stefano said suddenly, "What are you going to do with your
+clerk?"
+
+"To-morrow," said Alan, "I shall go to his mine."
+
+"You have not been there?"
+
+"No; he has made some silly excuse each time it has been suggested."
+
+"He will never take you there," said the jester. "You will see."
+
+"Simon," said Alan pleasantly that night, "I am going into the mountains
+with you to-morrow."
+
+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."
+
+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.
+
+"Hey!" said the fool, "why are you not in the mountains?"
+
+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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"Vanni!" said Alan under his breath.
+
+"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."
+
+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."
+
+"Has he shown you his findings? He took a bag away with him--a heavy
+one."
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"What shall you do?"
+
+"I am not sure. Are you safe here?"
+
+"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."
+
+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?"
+
+"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."
+
+"I should like to thrash him," said Alan. "He is planning to get the
+whole of this gold, as he thinks it, for himself."
+
+"Of course he is. But what good would it do to beat him? You cannot
+thrash the inside of him, can you?"
+
+Alan laughed, and strode off to the place where the horses were
+tethered. Before returning to his lodgings he went to see Stefano.
+
+"Well," said the jester when he had heard all, "what shall you do?"
+
+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--"
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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."
+
+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?"
+
+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!"
+
+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.
+
+"What has happened here?" he asked of a little inn-keeper from Boulogne,
+with whom he had some acquaintance.
+
+"They say it is the devil," the other replied with a shrug. "Mortally
+anxious to see him they seem to be."
+
+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.
+
+"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!"
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+He went into the alley where Martin Bouvin's little inn was and asked
+shelter for the night.
+
+"I go away to-morrow," he said, "and there is no returning to that place
+for hours to come."
+
+"H'm!" said the inn-keeper. "What really happened?"
+
+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."
+
+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."
+
+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!"
+
+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.
+
+"Get her away," he said in a low voice, "at once--there is danger!"
+
+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!"
+
+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!"
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"Are you afraid, Princess?" Alan asked presently.
+
+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."
+
+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?"
+
+"It was your tower," Alan answered. "No one will ever live there again,
+since you cannot."
+
+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.
+
+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."
+
+Josian's delicate brows drew together. "Mouldi--what strange beast is
+that, Al-an?" and Alan laughed and explained that it was a mole.
+
+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.
+
+"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?"
+
+Alan took the packet and turned it over. It was sealed with a device of
+Greek letters.
+
+"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.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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."
+
+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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+
+
+NEW ALTARS
+
+ 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!
+
+
+
+
+XII
+
+COLD HARBOR
+
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+Edwitha, his wife, looked up, her eyes sparkling through quick tears.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"Made with the yolk of an egg and a little wine of Xeres?" asked Guy
+with interest. "Giovanni made it so for us once."
+
+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."
+
+"What matters it," asked Alan innocently, "so the food is wholesome and
+pleasant?
+
+"That is what might be expected of you, you Northern barbarian," laughed
+Guy. "Where did you get your cunning, Martin?"
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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!"
+
+"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.
+
+"Alan!" cried the potter joyfully. "I heard you were abroad. Come in,
+and I'll send for Edwitha."
+
+"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."
+
+"That's news indeed," said the potter cordially. "And who may she be?
+Some foreign damsel you met in your pilgrimage?"
+
+"That's one way of saying it," answered Alan smiling. "You shall see her
+and judge for yourself. How's all here?"
+
+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."
+
+"Make no ado about us," Alan protested. "It's partly about Cold Harbor
+that we came--but here they all are, upon my life!"
+
+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!"
+
+"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.
+
+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.
+
+"If I mistake not," said the little stout man, Martin Bouvin, at last,
+"it is Sir Orpheus playing to the beasts."
+
+"To be sure!" cried Guy Bouverel. "Do you know books as well as
+cooking-pots, O man of the oldest profession?"
+
+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."
+
+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.
+
+"It is like finding out the people who lived here when the land was
+young," said Wilfrid, his eyes very bright.
+
+"And there were also the men who made the dewponds," mused Master Gay.
+
+"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?"
+
+"Brother Basil said once that our England is a land of lost kingdoms,"
+Alan answered her. "I see what he meant."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"And by the way," said Guy suddenly, "Cold Harbor will never do for a
+name. What shall you call the inn, Martin?"
+
+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."
+
+"'Mouth' is the English for harbor," suggested Wilfrid. "But all the
+country people would call it 'Bull-and-Mouth."
+
+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."
+
+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.
+
+
+
+GALLEY SONG
+
+
+ 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?
+
+
+
+
+XIII
+
+THE WISDOM OF THE GALLEYS
+
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"Who are you?" he asked curtly. Nicholas Gay stood up, not yet quite
+steady on his feet.
+
+"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."
+
+"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!"
+
+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.
+
+"There is no gain in being killed here one by one. Wait and be silent.
+Pass the word to the rest."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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?"
+
+Edrupt spoke first. "I'm with you, lad. 'Tis our one chance of seeing
+home again, I do think."
+
+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."
+
+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?"
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"I should like to know the name of that vinegar-faced captain," said
+Edrupt one day. "I mistrust he wasn't born here."
+
+"No," said Nicholas. "They call him the Khawadji, and they never use
+that name for one of themselves."
+
+"He's too free with his whip. Yon tall man that tends his horses could
+tell something of that, I make my guess."
+
+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.
+
+"Every knight should know his horse."
+
+"You are of gentle birth, my lord?"
+
+"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."
+
+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."
+
+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."
+
+"Is not this Khawadji a caitiff knight of France? He does not seem like
+a Moor."
+
+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."
+
+"How comes it that he has not allowed you to send word to your people?
+Most of these folk are greedy for ransom."
+
+"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."
+
+The approach of some troopers broke off the conversation, and Nicholas
+went his way, marveling at the strange chances of life.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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?
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+Mustafa took heart. He would never reach port, he complained, being so
+short-handed.
+
+"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.
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"All the same," said Edrupt thoughtfully, "a Londoner beats a Turk even
+for a galley-slave--eh, Nicholas?"
+
+"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."
+
+
+HARBOUR SONG
+
+ 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!
+
+
+
+
+XIV
+
+SOLOMON'S SEAL
+
+
+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.
+
+"Saints save us!" muttered the old woman, shaking a vain crutch after
+him. "I can never walk all that distance."
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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."
+
+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."
+
+"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."
+
+"Maybe it was because he was so wise," said Eleanor sagely. "Mother said
+it was good to seal wounds. We'll ask David."
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"See what Gwillym has made," she said.
+
+David stopped with the cheese half way to his mouth. "Who's Gwillym?" he
+asked.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+David took the clay group in his hand, turned it about, whistled softly.
+"Wha owns this bairn?" he inquired.
+
+"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."
+
+"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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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.'
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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:
+
+     "The baldmouse and the chauve-souri,
+        The baukie-bird and bat,
+      The barbastel and flittermouse,--
+        How many birds be that?"
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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,
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"What's that for?" asked David when he saw it. "Are ye askin' Auld
+Hornie ben the kirk, man?"
+
+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."
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+David's mouth set in a grim line and he rubbed the little black head
+with his crooked, skillful, weatherworn hand.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+
+
+THE LEPRECHAUN
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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!
+
+  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!"
+
+
+
+
+XV
+
+BLACK MAGIC IN THE TEMPLE
+
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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."
+
+"They say many things impossible to prove, as you are doubtless aware,"
+Tomaso answered.
+
+"Do you then deny that it is possible?" persisted Gregory.
+
+"He is foolish," Tomaso returned, "who denies that a thing may happen,
+because he finds it extraordinary."
+
+"Under certain conditions, you would say, it can be done?"
+
+"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.
+
+"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."
+
+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?
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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."
+
+Padraig's face lost every trace of color. "W-who says that?"
+
+"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."
+
+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."
+
+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.
+
+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?"
+
+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."
+
+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."
+
+Hod stuck his thumbs in his belt. "Put up thy money," he muttered. "The
+old doctor he cured our Cicely, he did."
+
+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.
+
+"Is this necessary to the making of gold?" asked Gregory.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"My son!" said the physician as he lifted his eyes from his writing and
+saw who was in the doorway, "how came you here?"
+
+"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?"
+
+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--"
+
+"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."
+
+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."
+
+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?"
+
+Padraig caught the hand of his master in both his own. "It is beyond
+endurance!" he cried piteously.
+
+"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."
+
+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?"
+
+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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"'Tis a fearsome business," said Padraig naively, "for men hate
+wizards."
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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,--
+
+"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--"
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"How did it happen so suitably, Padraig of my heart?" asked Tomaso, his
+deep eyes twinkling.
+
+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."
+
+
+THE EBBING TIDE
+
+ 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!
+
+
+
+
+XVI
+
+THE END OF A PILGRIMAGE
+
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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!"
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+"But why, mother?" asked Eleanor, bewildered.
+
+Lady Philippa shook her head. "I think because he is almost--or quite--a
+saint. Perhaps he will tell you by-and-by."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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."
+
+Sir Stephen smiled at the two puzzled young faces.
+
+"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."
+
+"Mother says," Eleanor ventured shyly, "that you are going away to live
+among the paynim."
+
+"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."
+
+"A Crusade?" The word was just inside Roger's lips, and it slipped out
+before he thought. Sir Stephen smiled again.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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."
+
+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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+
+THE CRUSADERS
+
+ 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!
+
+
+
+
+NOTES
+
+
+PEIROL OF THE PIGEONS
+
+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.
+
+THE TAPESTRY CHAMBER
+
+Saint George was not formally adopted as the patron saint of England
+until some time after this.
+
+LULLABY OF THE PICT MOTHER
+
+This song may be sung to a very old Scotch air called "O can ye sew
+cushions."
+
+THE WOLVES OF OSSORY
+
+The werewolf superstition is very persistent, and has been held in many
+countries until quite recent times.
+
+ST. HUGH AND THE BIRDS
+
+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.
+
+THE SWORD OF DAMASCUS
+
+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.
+
+THE WISDOM OF THE GALLEYS
+
+"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.
+
+Khawaja, Khawadji or Howadji is a title of respect given exclusively to
+unbelievers.
+
+The Breach of Roland--Roncesvalles.
+
+Jebel el Tarik--Gibraltar.
+
+Iskanderia--Alexandria.
+
+"Ma sh' Allah!" (What does God mean!) the commonest exclamation of
+surprise.
+
+Feringhi--Frankish, French.
+
+Kafir--Infidel, heathen, a term of extreme contempt.
+
+Ahmed ibn Said--Ahmed the son of Said.
+
+THE EBBING TIDE
+
+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.
+
+THE END OF A PILGRIMAGE
+
+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.
+
+The legend of the Star of Bethlehem referred to is one which is still
+current in India.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Masters of the Guild, by L. Lamprey
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