Cloister and the Hearth — Chapter 33, Part 2
“Dost call this marching?
” remonstrated Denys; “why, we shall walk o'er Christmas Day and never see it.
” At the next town they came to, suddenly an arbalestrier ran out of a tavern after them, and in a moment his beard and Denys's were like two brushes stuck together.
It was a comrade.
He insisted on their coming into the tavern with him, and breaking a bottle of wine.
In course of conversation, he told Denys there was an insurrection in the Duke's Flemish provinces, and soldiers were ordered thither from all parts of Burgundy.
“Indeed, I marvelled to see thy face turned this way.
“I go to embrace my folk that I have not seen these three years.
Ye can quell a bit of a rising without me I trow.
” Suddenly Denys gave a start.
“Dost hear Gerard?
this comrade is bound for Holland.
” “What then?
ah, a letter!
a letter to Margaret!
but will he be so good, so kind?
” The soldier with a torrent of blasphemy informed him he would not only take it, but go a league or two out of his way to do it.
In an instant out came inkhorn and paper from Gerard's wallet; and he wrote a long letter to Margaret, and told her briefly what I fear I have spun too tediously; dwelt most on the bear, and the plunge in the Rhine, and the character of Denys, whom he painted to the life.
And with many endearing expressions bade her to be of good cheer; some trouble and peril there had been, but all that was over now, and his only grief left was, that he could not hope to have a word from her hand till he should reach Rome.
He ended with comforting her again as hard as he could.
And so absorbed was he in his love and his work, that he did not see all the people in the room were standing peeping, to watch the nimble and true finger execute such rare penmanship.
Denys, proud of his friend's skill, let him alone, till presently the writer's face worked, and soon the scalding tears began to run down his young cheeks, one after another, on the paper where he was then writing comfort, comfort.
Then Denys rudely repulsed the curious, and asked his comrade with a faltering voice whether he had the heart to let so sweet a love-letter miscarry?
The other swore by the face of St. Luke he would lose the forefinger of his right hand sooner.
Seeing him so ready, Gerard charged him also with a short, cold letter to his parents; and in it he drew hastily with his pen two hands grasping each other, to signify farewell.
By-the-by, one drop of bitterness found its way into his letter to Margaret.
But of that anon.
Gerard now offered money to the soldier.
He hesitated, but declined it.
“No, no!
art comrade of my comrade; and may” (etc. ) “but thy love for the wench touches me.
I'll break another bottle at thy charge an thou wilt, and so cry quits.
” “Well said, comrade,” cried Denys.
“Hadst taken money, I had invited thee to walk in the courtyard and cross swords with me.
” “Whereupon I had cut thy comb for thee,” retorted the other.
“Hadst done thy endeavour, drole, I doubt not.
” They drank the new bottle, shook hands, adhered to custom, and parted on opposite routes.
This delay, however, somewhat put out Denys's calculations, and evening surprised them ere they reached a little town he was making for, where was a famous hotel.
However, they fell in with a roadside auberge, and Denys, seeing a buxom girl at the door, said, “This seems a decent inn,” and led the way into the kitchen.
They ordered supper, to which no objection was raised, only the landlord requested them to pay for it beforehand.
It was not an uncommon proposal in any part of the world.
Still it was not universal, and Denys was nettled, and dashed his hand somewhat ostentatiously into his purse and pulled out a gold angel.
“Count me the change, and speedily,” said he.
“You tavern-keepers are more likely to rob me than I you.
” While the supper was preparing, Denys disappeared, and was eventually found by Gerard in the yard, helping Manon, his plump but not bright decoy duck, to draw water, and pouring extravagant compliments into her dullish ear.
Gerard grunted and returned to table, but Denys did not come in for a good quarter of an hour.
“Uphill work at the end of a march,” said he, shrugging his shoulders.
“What matters that to you!
” said Gerard drily.
“The mad dog bites all the world.
” “Exaggerator.
You know I bite but the fairer half.
Well, here comes supper; that is better worth biting.
” During supper the girl kept constantly coming in and out, and looking point-blank at them, especially at Denys; and at last in leaning over him to remove a dish, dropped a word in his ear; and he replied with a nod.
As soon as supper was cleared away, Denys rose and strolled to the door, telling Gerard the sullen fair had relented, and given him a little rendezvous in the stable-yard.
Gerard suggested that the calf-pen would have been a more appropriate locality.
“I shall go to bed, then,” said he, a little crossly.
“Where is the landlord?
out at this time of night?
no matter.
I know our room.
Shall you be long, pray?
” “Not I. I grudge leaving the fire and thee.
But what can I do?
There are two sorts of invitations a Burgundian never declines.
” Denys found a figure seated by the well.
It was Manon; but instead of receiving him as he thought he had a right to expect, coming by invitation, all she did was to sob.
He asked her what ailed her?
She sobbed.
Could he do anything for her?
She sobbed.
The good-natured Denys, driven to his wits' end, which was no great distance, proffered the custom of the country by way of consolation.
She repulsed him roughly.
“Is it a time for fooling?
” said she, and sobbed.
“You seem to think so,” said Denys, waxing wroth.
But the next moment he added tenderly, “and I, who could never bear to see beauty in distress.
” “It is not for myself.
” “Who then?
your sweetheart?
” “Oh, que nenni.
My sweetheart is not on earth now: and to think I have not an ecu to buy masses for his soul;” and in this shallow nature the grief seemed now to be all turned in another direction.
“Come, come,” said Denys, “shalt have money to buy masses for thy dead lad; I swear it.
Meantime tell me why you weep.
” “For you.
” “For me?
Art mad?
” “No; I am not mad.
'Tis you that were mad to open your purse before him.
” The mystery seemed to thicken, and Denys, wearied of stirring up the mud by questions, held his peace to see if it would not clear of itself.
Then the girl, finding herself no longer questioned, seemed to go through some internal combat.
At last she said, doggedly and aloud, “I will.
The Virgin give me courage?
What matters it if they kill me, since he is dead?
Soldier, the landlord is out.
” “Oh, is he?
” “What, do landlords leave their taverns at this time of night?
also see what a tempest!
We are sheltered here, but t'other side it blows a hurricane.
” Denys said nothing.
“He is gone to fetch the band.
” “The band!
what band?
” “Those who will cut your throat and take your gold.
Wretched man; to go and shake gold in an innkeeper's face!
” The blow came so unexpectedly it staggered even Denys, accustomed as he was to sudden perils.
He muttered a single word, but in it a volume.
“Gerard!
” “Gerard!
What is that?
Oh, 'tis thy comrade's name, poor lad.
Get him out quick ere they come; and fly to the next town.
” “And thou?
” “They will kill me.
” “That shall they not.
Fly with us.
” “'Twill avail me nought: one of the band will be sent to kill me.
They are sworn to slay all who betray them.
” “I'll take thee to my native place full thirty leagues from hence, and put thee under my own mother's wing, ere they shall hurt a hair o' thy head.
But first Gerard.
Stay thou here whilst I fetch him!
” As he was darting off, the girl seized him convulsively, and with all the iron strength excitement lends to women.
“Stay me not!
for pity's sake,” he cried; “'tis life or death.
” “Sh!
--sh!
” whispered the girl, shutting his mouth hard with her hand, and putting her pale lips close to him, and her eyes, that seemed to turn backwards, straining towards some indistinct sound.
He listened.
He heard footsteps, many footsteps, and no voices.
She whispered in his ear, “They are come.
” And trembled like a leaf.
Denys felt it was so.
Travellers in that number would never have come in dead silence.
The feet were now at the very door.
“How many?
” said he, in a hollow whisper.
“Hush!
” and she put her mouth to his very ear.
And who, that had seen this man and woman in that attitude, would have guessed what freezing hearts were theirs, and what terrible whispers passed between them?
“How armed?
” “Sword and dagger: and the giant with his axe.
They call him the Abbot.
” “And my comrade?
” “Nothing can save him.
Better lose one life than two.
Fly!
” Denys's blood froze at this cynical advice.
“Poor creature, you know not a soldier's heart.
” He put his head in his hands a moment, and a hundred thoughts of dangers baffled whirled through his brain.
“Listen, girl!
There is one chance for our lives, if thou wilt but be true to us.
Run to the town; to the nearest tavern, and tell the first soldier there, that a soldier here is sore beset, but armed, and his life to be saved if they will but run.
Then to the bailiff.
But first to the soldiers.
Nay, not a word, but buss me, good lass, and fly!
men's lives hang on thy heels.
” She kilted up her gown to run.
He came round to the road with her, saw her cross the road cringing with fear, then glide away, then turn into an erect shadow, then melt away in the storm.
And now he must get to Gerard.
But how?
He had to run the gauntlet of the whole band.
He asked himself, what was the worst thing they could do?
for he had learned in war that an enemy does, not what you hope he will do, but what you hope he will not do.
“Attack me as I enter the kitchen!
Then I must not give them time.
” Just as he drew near to the latch, a terrible thought crossed him.
“Suppose they had already dealt with Gerard.
Why, then,” thought he, “nought is left but to kill, and be killed;” and he strung his bow, and walked rapidly into the kitchen.
There were seven hideous faces seated round the fire, and the landlord pouring them out neat brandy, blood's forerunner in every age.
“What?
company!
” cried Denys gaily; “one minute, my lads, and I'll be with you;” and he snatched up a lighted candle off the table, opened the door that led to the staircase, and went up it hallooing.
“What, Gerard!
whither hast thou skulked to?
” There was no answer.
He hallooed louder, “Gerard, where art thou?
” After a moment, in which Denys lived an hour of agony, a peevish, half-inarticulate noise issued from the room at the head of the little stairs.
Denys burst in, and there was Gerard asleep.
“Thank God!
” he said, in a choking voice, then began to sing loud, untuneful ditties.
Gerard put his fingers into his ears; but presently he saw in Denys's face a horror that contrasted strangely with this sudden merriment.
“What ails thee?
” said he, sitting up and staring.
“Hush!
” said Denys, and his hand spoke even more plainly than his lips.
“Listen to me.
” Denys then pointing significantly to the door, to show Gerard sharp ears were listening hard by, continued his song aloud but under cover of it threw in short muttered syllables.
“(Our lives are in peril.
) “(Thieves.
) “(Thy doublet.
) “(Thy sword.
) “Aid.
“Coming.
“Put off time.
” Then aloud-- “Well, now, wilt have t'other bottle?
--Say nay.
” “No, not I. ” “But I tell thee, there are half-a-dozen jolly fellows.
Tired.
” “Ay, but I am too wearied,” said Gerard.
“Go thou.
” “Nay, nay!
” Then he went to the door and called out cheerfully “Landlord, the young milksop will not rise.
Give those honest fellows t'other bottle.
I will pay for't in the morning.
” He heard a brutal and fierce chuckle.
Having thus by observation made sure the kitchen door was shut, and the miscreants were not actually listening, he examined the chamber door closely: then quietly shut it, but did not bolt it; and went and inspected the window.
It was too small to get out of, and yet a thick bar of iron had been let in the stone to make it smaller; and just as he made this chilling discovery, the outer door of the house was bolted with a loud clang.
Denys groaned.
“The beasts are in the shambles.
” But would the thieves attack them while they were awake?
Probably not.
Not to throw away this their best chance, the poor souls now made a series of desperate efforts to converse, as if discussing ordinary matters; and by this means Gerard learned all that had passed, and that the girl was gone for aid.
“Pray Heaven she may not lose heart by the way,” said Denys, sorrowfully.
And Denys begged Gerard's forgiveness for bringing him out of his way for this.
Gerard forgave him.
“I would fear them less, Gerard, but for one they call the Abbot.
I picked him out at once.
Taller than you, bigger than us both put together.
Fights with an axe.
Gerard, a man to lead a herd of deer to battle.
I shall kill that man to-night, or he will kill me.
I think somehow 'tis he will kill me.
” “Saints forbid!
Shoot him at the door!
What avails his strength against your weapon?
” “I shall pick him out; but if it comes to hand fighting, run swiftly under his guard, or you are a dead man.
I tell thee neither of us may stand a blow of that axe: thou never sawest such a body of a man.
” Gerard was for bolting the door; but Denys with a sign showed him that half the door-post turned outward on a hinge, and the great bolt was little more than a blind.
“I have forborne to bolt it,” said he, “that they may think us the less suspicious.
” Near an hour rolled away thus.
It seemed an age.
Yet it was but a little hour, and the town was a league distant.
And some of the voices in the kitchen became angry and impatient.
“They will not wait much longer,” said Denys, “and we have no chance at all unless we surprise them.
” “I will do whate'er you bid,” said Gerard meekly.
There was a cupboard on the same side as the door; but between it and the window.
It reached nearly to the ground, but not quite.
Denys opened the cupboard door and placed Gerard on a chair behind it.
“If they run for the bed, strike at the napes of their necks!
a sword cut there always kills or disables.
” He then arranged the bolsters and their shoes in the bed so as to deceive a person peeping from a distance, and drew the short curtains at the head.
Meantime Gerard was on his knees.
Denys looked round and saw him.
“Ah!
” said Denys, “above all, pray them to forgive me for bringing you into this guet-apens!
” And now they grasped hands and looked in one another's eyes oh, such a look!
Denys's hand was cold, and Gerard's warm.
They took their posts.
Denys blew out the candle.
“We must keep silence now.
” But in the terrible tension of their nerves and very souls they found they could hear a whisper fainter than any man could catch at all outside that door.
They could hear each other's hearts thump at times.
“Good news!
” breathed Denys, listening at the door.
“They are casting lots.
” “Pray that it may be the Abbot.
” “Yes.
Why?
“If he comes alone I can make sure of him.
” “Denys!
” “Ay!
” “I fear I shall go mad, if they do not come soon.
” “Shall I feign sleep?
Shall I snore?
” “Will that-------?
“Perhaps” “Do then and God have mercy on us!
” Denys snored at intervals.
There was a scuffling of feet heard in the kitchen, and then all was still.
Denys snored again.
Then took up his position behind the door.
But he, or they, who had drawn the lot, seemed determined to run no foolish risks.
Nothing was attempted in a hurry.
When they were almost starved with cold, and waiting for the attack, the door on the stairs opened softly and closed again.
Nothing more.
There was another harrowing silence.
Then a single light footstep on the stair; and nothing more.
Then a light crept under the door and nothing more.
Presently there was a gentle scratching, not half so loud as a mouse's, and the false door-post opened by degrees, and left a perpendicular space, through which the light streamed in.
The door, had it been bolted, would now have hung by the bare tip of the bolt, which went into the real door-post, but as it was, it swung gently open of itself.
It opened inwards, so Denys did not raise his crossbow from the ground, but merely grasped his dagger.
The candle was held up, and shaded from behind by a man's hand.
He was inspecting the beds from the threshold, satisfied that his victims were both in bed.
The man glided into the apartment.
But at the first step something in the position of the cupboard and chair made him uneasy.
He ventured no further, but put the candle on the floor and stooped to peer under the chair; but as he stooped, an iron hand grasped his shoulder, and a dagger was driven so fiercely through his neck that the point came out at his gullet.
There was a terrible hiccough, but no cry; and half-a-dozen silent strokes followed in swift succession, each a death-blow, and the assassin was laid noiselessly on the floor.
Denys closed the door, bolted it gently, drew the post to, and even while he was going whispered Gerard to bring a chair.
It was done.
“Help me set him up.
” “Dead?
” “Parbleu.
” “What for?
” “Frighten them!
Gain time.
” Even while saying this, Denys had whipped a piece of string round the dead man's neck, and tied him to the chair, and there the ghastly figure sat fronting the door.
“Denys, I can do better.
Saints forgive me!
” “What?
Be quick then, we have not many moments.
” And Denys got his crossbow ready, and tearing off his straw mattress, reared it before him and prepared to shoot the moment the door should open, for he had no hope any more would come singly, when they found the first did not return.
