The Boy Crusaders Part 17

CHAPTER XXIX.

A WOUNDED PILGRIM.

IT was long ere Walter Espec, struck down wounded and bleeding at Mansourah, recovered possession of his faculties sufficiently to recall the scenes through which he had pa.s.sed or even to understand what was taking place around him. As time pa.s.sed over, however, consciousness returned; and he one day became aware that he was stretched on a bed in a chamber somewhat luxuriously furnished, and tended by a woman advanced in years, who wore a gown of russet, and a wimple which gave her a conventual appearance.

Walter raised his head, and was about to speak, when she suddenly left the room, and the squire was left to guess, as he best might, where and under whose care he was. He attempted to rise; but the effort was in vain. He put his hand to his head; but he found that his long locks of fair hair were gone. He tried to remember how he had got there; but, try as he might, his memory would not bring him farther down the stream of time, than the hour in which he fell at Mansourah. All the rest was a blank or a feverish dream of being rowed on a river by Saracen boatmen, and left at the portal of a house which he had never seen before.

Gradually recalling all his adventures since he left the castle of Wark, he remembered and felt his hand for the amulet with which he had been gifted by King Louis when at Cyprus. The ring was there, and as Walter thought of the inscription he felt something like hope.

But Walter was still weak from loss of blood and the fever which had been the consequence of wounds and exposure, and he soon sank into a slumber. When he again awoke to consciousness the woman in russet was standing near him, and conversing with a damsel whom Walter did not at first see, but whose tones, sweet and soft, manifested a strong interest in his recovery.

'He will yet live,' said the woman in russet, 'and rejoice we in it; for he is a young man; and to such life must needs be dear.'

'He will live,' repeated the girl, 'and our lady be praised therefor; for it is sweet to live.'

'In truth, n.o.ble demoiselle,' said the woman in russet, 'the youth owes much to your solicitude; but for your anxiety on his behalf, I hardly think he would have struggled through the fever. However, if you will remain and watch him for a brief s.p.a.ce, I will attend to the commands of my lady the queen, and hasten to relieve you. Nay, it misbeseems not n.o.ble maiden to tend a wounded warrior, especially a soldier of the Cross; and, credit me, he will give you little trouble. He lies as quiet and calm as if he were in his shroud.'

With these words the woman in russet departed; and the damsel, treading so softly that her footstep made not the slightest noise, moved about the room in silent thought, now turning to gaze on the wounded squire, now looking from the cas.e.m.e.nt. Walter, now fully awake, began to experience a strong feeling of curiosity; and turning his head directed his gaze, not without interest, towards his youthful nurse. She was not more than sixteen, and still more beautiful than young. She had features exquisitely lovely in their delicacy and expression, deep blue eyes with long dark fringes, and dark brown hair which, according to the fashion of the period, was turned up behind and enclosed in a caul of network.

Her form was already elegant in its proportions; but it inclined to be taller, and gave promise of great perfection. Her charms were set off by the mourning dress which she wore, and by the robe called the quintise, which was an upper tunic without sleeves, with bordered vandyking and scalloping worked and notched in various patterns, worn so long behind that it swept the floor, but in front held up gracefully with one hand so as not to impede the step.

Walter was charmed, and a little astonished as his eye alighted on a face and form so fascinating; and, in spite of his prostration and utter weakness, he gazed on her with lively interest and some wonder.

'Holy Katherine!' exclaimed he to himself; 'what a lovely vision. I marvel who she is, and where I am; and, as he thus soliloquised, the girl turned round, and not without flutter and alarm perceived that he was awake and watching her.

'n.o.ble demoiselle, heed me not;' said Walter earnestly, 'but rather tell me, since, if I understand aright, I owe my life to you--how am I ever sufficiently to prove my grat.i.tude?'

'Ah, sir squire,' replied she, 'you err in supposing the debt to be on your side. It is I who owe you a life, and not you who owe a life to me; and,' added she, struggling to repress tears, 'my heart fills when I remember how you did for me, albeit a stranger, what, under the circ.u.mstances, no other being on earth would have ventured to do.'

'By Holy Katherine, n.o.ble demoiselle,' said Walter, wondering at her words; 'I should in truth deem it a high honour to have rendered such as you any service. But that is a merit which I cannot claim; for, until this hour, unless my memory deceives me, I never saw your face.'

The countenance of the girl evinced disappointment, and the tears started to her eyes.

'Ah, sir, sir,' said she, with agitation; 'I am she whom, on the coast of Cyprus, you saved from the waves of the sea.'

Walter's heart beat rather quick as he learned that it was Adeline de Brienne who stood before him; for, though her very face was unknown to him, her name had strangely mixed up with many of his day-dreams; and it was not without confusion that, after a pause, he continued the conversation.

'Pardon my ignorance, n.o.ble demoiselle,' said he, 'and vouchsafe, I pray you, to inform me where I now am; for I own to you that I am somewhat perplexed.'

'You are in Damietta.'

'In Damietta!' exclaimed Walter, astonished; 'and how came I to Damietta? My latest recollection is having been struck from my steed at Mansourah, after my lord, the Earl of Salisbury, and all the English warriors, had fallen before the weapons of the Saracens; and how I come to be in Damietta is more than I can guess.'

'Mayhap; but I can tell you,' said a frank hearty voice; and, as Walter started at the sound, Bisset, the English knight, stood before him; and Adeline de Brienne, not without casting a kindly look behind, vanished from the chamber.

'Wonder upon wonders,' cried Walter, as the knight took his hand; 'I am now more bewildered than before. Am I in Damietta, and do I see you, and in the body?'

'Even so,' replied Bisset; 'and for both circ.u.mstances we are wholly indebted to Beltran, the Christian renegade. He saved you from perishing at Mansourah, and conveyed you down the Nile, and brought you to the portal of this palace; and he came to me when I was at Minieh under a tree, sinking with fatigue, and in danger of bleeding to death; and he found the means of conveying me hither also; so I say that, were he ten times a renegade, he merits our grat.i.tude.'

'Certes,' said Walter, 'and, methinks, also our prayers that his heart may be turned from the error of his ways, and that he may return to the faith which Christians hold.'

'Amen,' replied Bisset.

'But tell me, sir knight,' continued Walter, eagerly, what has happened, since that dreadful day, to the pilgrim army? and if you know aught of my brother-in-arms, Guy Muschamp?'

'Sir squire,' answered Bisset, sadly; 'for your first question, I grieve to say, that has come to pa.s.s which I too shrewdly predicted--all the boasting of the French has ended in disaster--the king and his n.o.bles being prisoners, and most of the other pilgrims slain or drowned; and, for your second, as to Guy Muschamp, the English squire, who was a brave and gallant youth, I own I entertain hardly a doubt that, ere this, he is food for worms or fishes.'

Walter Espec uttered an exclamation of horror, and, without another word, sank back on his pillow.

CHAPTER x.x.x.

ST. LOUIS IN CHAINS.

WHEN King Louis was led away by the faithful Segrines, and when he was so exhausted that he had to be lifted from his steed and carried into a house, and when the Crusaders outside were in dismay and despair, Philip de Montfort entered the chamber where the saintly monarch was, and proposed to renew negotiations with the Saracens.

'Sire,' said De Montfort, 'I have just seen the emir with whom I formerly treated; and, so it be your good pleasure, I will seek him out, and demand a cessation of hostilities.'

'Go,' replied Louis; 'and, since it can no better be, promise to submit to the conditions on which the sultan formerly insisted.'

Accordingly De Montfort went; and the Saracens, still fearing their foes, and remembering that the French held Damietta, agreed to treat. A truce was, indeed, on the point of being concluded. Montfort had given the emir a ring; the emir had taken off his turban, and their hands were about to meet; when a Frenchman, named Marcel, rushed in and spoiled all.

'Seigneurs,' said he, interrupting the conference, 'n.o.ble knights of France, surrender yourselves all! The king commands you by me. Do not cause him to be put to death.'

On hearing this message, the emir withdrew his hand, returned De Montfort's ring, put on his turban, and intimated that the negotiation was at an end.

'G.o.d is powerful,' said he, 'and it is not customary to treat with beaten enemies.'

And now it was that there ensued such a scene as Minieh had never witnessed. Almost as the negotiation ended, Louis was seized, violently handled and put in chains. Both the Count of Poictiers and the Count of Anjou were at the same time made prisoners; and the bulk of the warriors accompanying the king had scarcely the choice between surrender and death; for nothing, as has been said, but their hearts' blood would satisfy the vindictive cravings of their foes; and, when the king's captivity became known, many of those who had formerly been most intrepid, remained motionless and incapable of the slightest resistance.

About the time when King Louis was put in chains, and when Bisset, the English knight, was endeavouring to escape death or rather captivity, the sultan arrived at Minieh, and, without any display of generosity for the vanquished, took measures for improving his victory to the utmost.

The king and his brothers who, like himself, were bound hand and foot, were conducted in triumph to a boat of war. The oriflamme--that banner so long the pride of France--was now carried in mockery; the crosses and images, which the Crusaders had with them as symbols of their religious faith, were trampled scornfully under foot; and, with trumpets sounding and kettle-drums clashing, the royal captives were marched into Mansourah.

It was to the house of Fakreddin Ben Lokman, the secretary of the sultan, that Louis was escorted; and, on arriving there, he was given into the custody of the Eunuch Sahil. But, abandoned by fortune, and in the power of his enemies, Louis was still himself. In chains and captivity he exhibited the dignity of a king and the resignation of a Christian, and his jailers could not refrain from expressing their astonishment at the serene patience with which he bore adversity. Of all his property, he had only saved his book of psalms; and daily, while consoling himself with reciting from its pages, he was inspired with strength and resolution to bear his misfortunes, and to raise his thoughts far above the malice of his foes.

Meanwhile, at the court of the sultan, everything was not going smoothly. From the beginning, the emirs and Mamelukes had looked with envy and suspicion on the favourites brought by Touran Chah from Mesopotamia; and such feelings had not died away. Many of the favourites ere long were subst.i.tuted for the ministers of the late sultan; and the emirs and Mamelukes not only complained loudly of this to Touran Chah, but reproached him bitterly for the way in which he disposed of the spoil of the Crusaders.

'How is this?' asked they; 'you are bestowing the spoils of the vanquished Franks, not on the men who have borne the burden of the war, but on men whose sole merit consists in having come from the banks of the Euphrates to the Nile.'

Now, the sultan's favourites were not unaware of the unfriendly feeling with which they were regarded by the Mameluke chiefs. Indeed, they saw all the dangers of their position, and considered it politic, under the circ.u.mstances, to reduce the influence of the emirs and Mamelukes by bringing about a treaty with the Crusaders.

'In these people,' said they to the sultan, 'you have enemies far more dangerous than the Christians. Nothing will content them but reigning in your stead. They never cease to boast of their victories, as if they alone had conquered the Franks, and as if the G.o.d of Mahomet had not sent pestilence and famine to aid you in triumphing. But hasten to terminate the war, that you may strengthen your power within; and then you will be able to reign in reality.'

As soon as Touran Chah was convinced that the emirs and Mamelukes entertained projects of ambition dangerous to his power, and that war was favourable to their designs, he resolved to show the chiefs how little he regarded their opinions; and, without even consulting them, he sent some of his favourites to the house of Lokman, and empowered them to treat with Louis.

'King,' said the amba.s.sador, 'I come from the sultan, to inform you that he will restore you to liberty, on condition that you surrender to him the cities of Palestine now held by the Franks.'