The Last of the Vikings Part 9

Alice and Jeannette, too, with the curiosity of their s.e.x, and with ever-increasing interest, explored the rooms of the castle, marvelling greatly at the many tokens of taste and refinement manifested therein, and which they little expected to find in the castle of a Saxon chieftain.

Said Alice, "My interest grows strangely from day to day, Jeannette, in this Saxon chieftain. I see no evidence of the boorishness I have always a.s.sociated with the lives of the Barons of England. Now also that he is in such sore distress, and hath so sad a fate before him, my heart grieves sorely for him."

"Yes, my lady, I cannot help thinking that these Saxons would despise the beastly orgies proceeding under this roof, and outside."

"Yes, Jeannette; but what will it be on the morrow, when this Saxon is given over to their cruelty? It makes my blood curdle! Would I knew how to set him free! My heart tells me it would be an act of mercy done to my own people as well as to him; for to spare my people the humiliation and degradation of the morrow's inhumanity were indeed a good deed, whether they would appreciate it or not."

"My lady, if you wish it, I warrant we can do it. I know how to set about it. Paul Lazaire mounts guard, and I can coax the simpleton into obeying me. I declare if I had to bid him stand on his head he would do it."

"But, Jeannette, that would probably get Paul into trouble. Perhaps it would cost him his life. That would not do."

"Well, if you will not let me manage Paul, I cannot tell how to help you."

"But cannot we manage it without implicating Paul. I could make a sleeping draught which would put him to rest speedily."

"Oh, that would be fine, my lady! Just the very thing! Put it in some mulled ale, and I will dose him."

"But how then, Jeannette? Have we courage to open the prison doors? I am afraid our nerves would fail us down in those damp and ghostly cells."

"Not at all, my lady. I will go; my heart will not fail me, for it would just suit me to do it."

"Well, it sounds strange we should thus plot to deceive our people; but my heart prompts me to do this deed, come what may."

"Yes, let us do it; but, as I said, let it be mulled ale, for I declare ale is never too muddy for them, and they will drink it, no matter what stuff you put in it."

"But how shall we convey it to him when it is made? That is our next difficulty, Jeannette."

"Oh, I'll convey it, never fear for me, lady. The little soft is fool enough to think I admire him. It will be such fun! I shall almost burst with laughter when he gulps it down. I'll take him a t.i.t-bit also, for his supper. The simpleton will be overjoyed, and I expect he'll begin maundering something about love," and Jeannette clapped her hands and skipped about gleefully. This was a matter that just jumped with her madcap humour, and her high spirits could any time carry her through a frolic of this sort; but when fairly cornered, her nerves were subject to complete collapse, and she became as helpless as any bird before the swoop of a hawk, unable to do anything but cower and helplessly flutter.

"Really, Jeannette, I think you treat this poor fellow rather too badly," said Alice.

"It's only a joke, my lady. I like to tease him, he amuses me so!"

"Well, get him some supper, then, and I will make him some mulled ale.

For this once, at least, we must ignore our consciences; but indeed, I almost think the end will justify the means, for this worthy Saxon deserves some better fate than the one awaiting him, and I care not if I permit the claims of humanity and of chivalry to triumph, even though it be at the expense of my own people, of whose cruelty and greed I am heartily ashamed."

The evening hours were advancing rapidly towards the twelfth. Much of the clamour of the early hours of the night was effectually hushed in the drunken slumbers of both officers and men, and at the dread hour the attempt at rescue was to be made; so Jeannette, fortifying herself for her humorous but somewhat daring feat, tripped boldly along the corridors, torch in hand, bearing the repast prepared for her would-be lover.

"There, you false man, that is a great deal too good for you!" she said, accosting Paul Lazaire, who was mounting guard over the cell in which Oswald was confined, and who, in great trepidation and fear, shrank before the ghostly advent of an unknown and m.u.f.fled visitant at the dread hour of night.

"Oh! goodness me, my pretty Jeannette, is it you? I was quite startled.

I thought it was a ghost, and I declare it's an angel."

"You thought it was that ugly Saxon wench I caught you kissing, you false man! That is what you thought."

"Tush, tush, Jeannette! Whenever will you forget that? You know I love only you. Give me a kiss, and let us be friends. I vow I will never look at another Saxon wench as long as I live."

"Now, get off with you, if you please. You make a mistake if you think I am going to be kissed by you, when you are so fond of kissing any dirty hussy you meet."

"Now, don't, my fiery little wife! This is too bad--too bad for anything, Jeannette! You never have done with it."

"Don't you imagine you will have me for a wife unless you mend your manners very greatly. You shall have that dirty hussy of a Saxon for a wife, and I will have Jaques Leroux. He is a smarter man than you are, any day; and if I but put up my finger to him, he will run after me."

"You don't mean it, Jeannette! Now, don't be cruel! You might just as well say that you love me, for I know you do at heart, and you are only teasing me, as usual. I know you wouldn't have brought me this nice supper if you hadn't thought something of me. Now, isn't it so, Jeannette? Just give me a kiss, and say you forgive me for that Saxon wench, and then I shall be happy;" and Paul endeavoured gallantly to plant a kiss on Jeannette's rosy cheek.

"Here, get off, will you, or else I'll scratch you!" said Jeannette, violently pushing Paul away. "I'm not going to go shares with a dirty Saxon. Mark that, Paul Lazaire! You will have to mend your manners before you kiss me, I can tell you that much!"

"There you go again, Jeannette. You never will forget about that Saxon wench, I do believe; and you know it was only a joke."

"Now, just get your supper, and give up fooling, will you? or your ale will be cold, and I shall go away and leave you," was the very irresponsive reply of the dame.

Paul was really madly in love with Jeannette, but still he had to spare a considerable amount of affection for the steaming tankard of mulled ale and the victuals, which she had brought him. So he raised the tankard to his lips, and gave a hearty drink.

"Bravo, Jeannette!" said he, smacking his lips. "What a lovely brew it is to be sure! How it warms the pit of my stomach! You'll make me a happy man some day, I do declare, Jeannette."

"Now you are fooling again!" said Jeannette, giggling most immoderately at the gusto with which, unsuspectingly, he swallowed the potion. "Now, get your supper. I cannot spend the whole night with you here. So be quick, or I shall be missed."

Thus exhorted, Paul fell on the victuals with right good will, and drained to the dregs the tankard of spiced ale, all the while interspersing his feeding by casting pitiful glances at Jeannette, which made that mercurial young damsel giggle more immoderately still.

"Don't go, Jeannette," said he beseechingly, as Jeannette was about to turn away. "It is a long time to the next watch, and you can't imagine how creepy I feel in this pa.s.sage, with that fearful Saxon inside clanking his irons, and tearing about, and not a soul within call if he should break loose."

"Is that the cell in which he is confined?"

"Yes, but he is very quiet just now. Perhaps he hears us talking; but I can hear him tugging at the chains sometimes as though he would tear the place down. He makes me feel as if next moment he'd burst open the door, and murder me. He is a most desperate fellow. You should have seen how he fought on that wall; and there was another one who escaped, a fearful man, too, at his weapons."

"Oh, I saw them, and I noticed how frightened you all were into the bargain. But are those the keys you have at your girdle?"

"Yes; this is the one for the door, and this other one for the manacles," said Paul, holding up a pair of rusty keys to Jeannette's view. "I wish the watch was over," he added, shuddering, "or I had _un bon camarade_."

"Eh, bien! bon nuit, mon bonhomme," said Jeannette, gathering up the empty tankard, and flitting along the lonesome corridors back again to her mistress, who was waiting with feverish impatience for her return.

"What news have you, Jeannette? Did all go well?"

"Beautiful, my lady. He drank the ale, and praised it finely. I knew he would do that, for those horrid men always praise ale. But the wonder to me is that the beastly stuff did not turn his stomach."

"Did you see the cell, then, in which the Saxon is confined?"

"Yes; and Paul showed me which is the key for the door, and which is for the manacles; for he is chained fast to the wall, it appears."

"Oh, dear, I wish it was over, for I tremble from head to foot. It is a desperate enterprise, and would be both rash and indelicate if the mercifulness of it did not demand the sacrifice. Dost thou fear to venture it, Jeannette?"

"Not a bit, my lady; I like to outwit those men folk, for they count us nothing, and it will be such a joke to see their blank looks in the morning! And won't the Baron rage and swear at the men-at-arms?"

"Oh, do hush, you foolish child, it is far too serious to jest about. I wish your courage and lightheartedness may not fail you before our task is accomplished! If a merciful Heaven do not help us, I fear me we shall never accomplish our purpose."

"Let us make vow to Notre Dame, before we venture, that we will repeat fifty Aves and Credos if she help us, and give twenty silver pennies to the holy Father at the next gathering of the Romescot."[1]

[Footnote 1: Peter's pence.]