God Wills It! Part 75

"Either to-morrow at this time we are masters of the city, or you can know that I am discharged forever of all vows and warfare. Does Mary know what we said together, at parting at Antioch?"

"She knows. And she accepts."

"That is well. Tell her I can leave only this message: 'I have from the hour I left her carried myself as became a Christian cavalier. I have prayed for grace to live and grace to die. I know that after the first pain is past she will wonder why she ever had love for the rude Frankish baron, when she has the favor of the most gallant emir, the most courtly prince, the purest-hearted man, Christian or Moslem.' For though you cannot yearn for her with the fire that burns in me, I can trust you never to let her grow hungry for love."

"Yes: but--" Musa laughed a little nervously--"but if the city is taken? What of me? Will you lead me in fetters back to St. Julien?"

Richard saw the implication.

"No, by St. George," he protested, "you shall not die! I will go to every friend, and I have many, and beseech them if we conquer to spare you."

Musa only laughed again.

"And where you would scorn to live, I must hold back?"

Both were silent; for they saw the inevitable issue. Then Musa spoke again: "Again I say it, what is doomed, is doomed. We are in the Most High's hands. So long as you bear your St. Julien shield I shall know you, and if we meet no blows shall pa.s.s. But wear a closed helmet. I quaked when I saw you mocking the arrows in your open casque."

Both were standing. There was nothing more to say. Richard's heart was very sad, but Musa comforted.

"No fears--is not Allah over us both? Will He not dispose all aright,--to-night,--to-morrow,--forever,--though we may not see the path?"

The two men embraced; and, without another word, Richard saw the form of Musa vanish into the darkness.

Of all the councils of the chiefs, none at Antioch was so gloomy as the one held the night after that day of battle and defeat. Duke Robert the Norman spoke for all when he cried in his agony:--

"Miserable men are we! G.o.d judges us unworthy to enter His Holy City!"

"Have we endured all this pain in vain?" answered G.o.dfrey. "Unworthy we are, but do we not fight for the glory of Christ?"

"We have fought stoutly as mortal men may!" groaned the son of William the b.a.s.t.a.r.d. "Twice repulsed, half our men slain, our towers wrecked.

Where are my brave cavaliers from Rouen and Harfleur? Dead--dead; all who were not happy and died on the march!"

Then silence, while the red torches in G.o.dfrey's tent flickered.

Robert the Norman bowed his head and wept, sobbed even as a child.

But Robert, Count of Flanders, broke out madly:--

"By St. Nicholas of Ghent, why sit we here as speechless oxen? Let us either curse G.o.d and the false monks who led us on this devil's dance, and every man speed back to his own seigneury, if so Satan aid him; or let us have an end of croaks and groans, bear our hurts with set teeth, and have Jerusalem, though we pluck down the wall with our naked hands." But not an answer or token followed his outburst; and after a pause he added bitterly: "Yes, fair lords; my cousin of Normandy speaks well; we are unworthy to deliver the Holy City. Let us go back to dear France, and think of our sins." Still silence; and then, with an ominous tread, Gaston of Bearn entered, in full armor and with drawn sword.

"Good brothers," quoth he, gazing about a little blankly, and meeting only blank helplessness, "I, who hold the lines while you counsel, have only one word--speed. The rumor pa.s.ses that the siege is to be raised, the Crusade abandoned. Half the army is ready to fly. Breathe it once, and the shout will be, 'For France!'--and the host scatters like sheep toward Joppa; while those more devoutly minded will cast their naked b.r.e.a.s.t.s on the Moslems' spears to earn martyrdom in place of victory."

G.o.dfrey roused himself by a great effort.

"As G.o.d lives," he protested, "we cannot suffer the Crusade to fail.

We cannot say to all the widows and orphans of France, 'Your husband, your father, died like headstrong fools.'"

"We have wrought all that the paladins of Charlemagne wrought, and more," tossed back Robert the Norman, hopelessly.

A voice lower down amongst the lesser chiefs interrupted:

"You are wrong, my lord of Normandy."

The Conqueror's son rose in his dignity.

"Wrong? Who speaks? I will not have my honor questioned."

The others saw Richard Longsword rising also. His face was very set and stern, he held his head proudly.

"I say it, 'You are wrong.' No man has done all that the paladins of old have done until, like them, he stops prating of the anger of G.o.d, and dies with his face toward the paynim and twenty slain around. Take heed, my lords, lest we think too much of our unworthiness, too little of the captivity of the Tomb of Our Lord; and how in freeing it the price of all our sins is paid. I did not come to council to learn how to lead my men to Joppa, but how we were one and all to mount the breach, or perish in the moat."

There was a ring in Richard's voice hard as the beaten anvil; and, before Robert could reply, more than one voice cried: "So say I! And I! Never can we slink back, and look in the eyes of the women of France!"

"I cry pardon, fair lords," said Longsword. "I am a young knight to instruct my betters." But G.o.dfrey answered him:--

"There is none of us too great to listen to brave words like these;"

and Tancred, leaping up, added: "Yes, by G.o.d's help I will make it good on my body against any who cry 'backward,' till the city be won.

Away with all these bats of darkness that are lighting on our heads!

How does the night advance?"

"By the stars, midnight," answered Gaston, just entered.

"Good," ran on the Prince, sweeping all before him. "Pa.s.s the word through the host that we a.s.sault at dawn. Let every spare hand work to repair the towers. Let the rest sleep. We can make shift to move my Lord G.o.dfrey's tower. If we have suffered without the walls, rest a.s.sured the infidels have splintered some bones within." The ebb tide had turned. The flood ran swiftly now.

"G.o.d wills it! Attack with the morning!" the two Roberts were crying, as loud as the rest. And others shouted:--

"An end to divisions. Let us have one leader! Let us proclaim G.o.dfrey king. To-morrow we will crown him in Jerusalem!"

But the pure-hearted Duke beckoned for silence, and answered: "G.o.d forbid, dear brothers, that I should be styled 'sire,' and wear crown of gold, where my Saviour was spit upon and crowned with thorns. We have one work now--to storm the city."

"The infidels are attacking the machines!" thundered Raimbaud of Orange, from the tent door. "To the rescue, fair lords!"

"Rescue! Rescue!" cried all, flying forth with drawn swords. And while Raymond and Tancred went to beat back the sally, Richard found himself close to G.o.dfrey. "Our Lady bless you, De St. Julien," said Bouillon, grasping Richard's hand. "It was only a word you said; but a word in season will raise or pluck down kingdoms. How shall I reward you? I was near despair when I saw the gloom settling ever blacker over the council."

"Only this, fair Duke, that I may be in the front of the a.s.sault."

"Rashest of the rash! Some day the saints will grow weary of protecting you, and you will be slain."

"What matter, if all else is well?"

So Richard hastened off into the night, found his own encampment in the maze of tents, and told his men there was to be no retreat--that with the morning the storm would be renewed.

"And will you follow your seigneur, now as ever?" was his question to the fifty gaunt, mailed figures (all of his five hundred that were left) that grouped before the dying camp-fire.

"Through all h.e.l.l,--though each Moslem were a thousand devils!"

answered De Carnac; and every St. Julien man roared forth "Amen!"