The Truce of God Part 9

Humbert, respecting the humors of his superior, followed just as silently. But he began to grow anxious as they kept advancing, and he could not repress an exclamation of surprise as Gilbert halted on the brink of the ravine we have described before, within a league of the castle. They led their horses down into the gully and tied them to two stout trees.

"Give me the harp!" exclaimed the youth, commanding rather than entreating. Humbert surrendered the instrument without a word, and they emerged from the ravine. They walked on, side by side, still in silence; for Gilbert's mind was wrought up to the highest pitch, and held too thrilling communion with itself to notice his companion, except at brief intervals. But when they came within full view of the dim turrets of Stramen Castle, and the youth kept steadily advancing toward them, Humbert stopped short, and perceiving that Gilbert still advanced, he made bold to stay the rash stripling by touching his arm.

Gilbert started and stood still; then said, with cold contempt: "Do you flinch?"

"From what?" inquired the other, calmly.

"From that ma.s.s of stone."

"What have we to do with that?"

"Enter it before an hour."

"And die before an hour," replied Humbert.

"Or live," said Gilbert, rather to himself than to his attendant, and resuming his rapid advance.

Humbert stood awhile, rooted to the ground, in mute amazement at his lord's inexplicable behavior. But every moment was precious. He sprang forward, and again seizing Gilbert's arm, he threw himself on his knees.

"My dear lord!" he exclaimed, "I conjure you in the name of your father to desist from this madness, and to return! You are rushing upon certain destruction! You are flinging away your life! Remember it is Monday! The arm of our blessed mother, the Church, cannot protect you to-day! My wife and my children will be left without a father, and the lordship of Hers without an heir!" Here the honest yeoman burst into tears, but the youth's determination was taken. He disengaged himself from his follower's grasp, and said, resolutely, but kindly:

"Return!"

"And leave you to perish alone?" cried Humbert, springing to his feet.

"No, no! I am no craven! And why should I return? To be reproached with having seduced my lord into danger, and then basely deserted him? If you advance, I go with you, though I cannot guess your object, or justify your seeming madness. But I implore you to remember your duty as a son and as a Christian, and not to take a step that will make your enemies exult and your friends tear their hair in sorrow!"

For a moment the n.o.ble stood irresolute; but the next instant he seized Humbert's hand with a vice-like grip, and whispered in his ear, "I must see the Lady Margaret!"

Without waiting for a reply, Gilbert strode forward. Before the drawbridge was gained, Humbert had recovered himself, and was prepared to put forth all his daring and skill to extricate themselves from the consequences of this perilous adventure.

"Ho! warder!" he cried, in a confident tone, "a minnesinger--Ailred of Zurich--and his harp-bearer, wet and fasting. Shelter in the name of G.o.d!"

Down came the drawbridge, and the portcullis rose and fell, leaving them on the other side of the moat, surrounded by the men of Stramen. They were conducted with much respect to a comfortable room in the castle, and the arrival announced to the Lord Sandrit de Stramen. The baron, who had heard of Ailred's rising fame, was delighted with the intelligence, and invited the minstrel to his princ.i.p.al hall. Humbert encased his harp, and having tuned it, delivered it to Gilbert. Then, with scrupulous care, having re-examined his costume, he ascended a flight of stairs, escorted by a serf, and ordered Gilbert to follow.

They were ushered into a s.p.a.cious room, hung with armor and broidered tapestry.

By a blazing fire were seated the baron and Father Omehr, and some paces behind them stood several attendants. Sir Sandrit rose and saluted the minstrel with much courtesy, and bade him warm himself at the genial hearth. Humbert received the baron's congratulations without embarra.s.sment, and pledged his health in a br.i.m.m.i.n.g bowl. While the minnesinger and the n.o.ble were exchanging compliments, Gilbert kept a respectful distance, supporting the harp. He feared to look at the missionary, who sat, evidently little concerned about Ailred of Zurrich, wrapped in meditation. His heart had grown cold when, on entering the room, as he glanced around, he missed the Lady Margaret. Was she sick?

Was the prophecy to be so swiftly consummated? He maintained his position unnoticed, save by the domestic who offered him wine, until the diligent seneschal had spread a long table, which soon presented a most tempting appearance. Venison, boar's flesh, fish, fowl, pastries of various kinds, and generous bowls of wine, proclaimed the hospitality of the proud baron. Father Omehr blessed the board, but declined partic.i.p.ating in the repast.

Sir Sandrit forced the troubadour to sit at his side, while Gilbert occupied a seat at the lower end of the table, among the dependents of the house; for the arrival of a minstrel was one of those momentous occasions when the lord of the fee welcomed his retainers to his own board, and extended equal favor and protection to the highest and the lowest. Humbert's animation increased as the sumptuous meal progressed, while his naturally brilliant qualities, and a remarkable fund of wit and anecdote, so fascinated the baron that he was wholly absorbed in the charming Ailred. Gilbert sat silent and watchful, eating just enough to avoid observation. When the banquet was drawing to a close, the Lady Margaret entered the room, and glided to a seat beside the priest. The blood rushed to Gilbert's face with such a burning thrill, that he bent his head to hide his confusion. He trembled in the violence of his smothered emotion. It was some minutes before he dared to look up. Her face was exposed to his gaze, and he could see every feature distinctly.

She was still the same--ay, more than the same--she was lovelier than ever. Regardless of discovery, he fixed his eyes upon the apparition that had haunted him so long, and was only recalled to a sense of his position by a loud call from the baron for the harp.

As he carried the instrument to the spot indicated by Ailred, the baron presented the minstrel to his daughter. Humbert behaved with becoming reverence. He took his station a few feet from the table, between Sir Sandrit and his daughter, and began to prelude with decision and great sweetness. Gilbert stood behind him, with his back to the baron and his face to the Lady Margaret. Humbert, emboldened by his reception, and perhaps inspirited by the wine, sounded the chords with admirable effect; and when the expectation of the audience was at the highest, he introduced a beautiful ballad, and raising his voice, sang the praises of Rodolph of Suabia. The baron and all his followers were listening intently to the minstrel, as, with a heaving breast and flashing eye, he recited the glory of Suabia and of her majestic duke. Even Father Omehr was carried away by the excited Humbert. But Gilbert's eyes and soul were riveted upon the Lady Margaret. What was the strain to him? he heard it not. The violent hopes and fears that had alternately shaken him, had given way to a silent rapture; the unnatural tension of his nerves was relaxed, and in spite of all his efforts, the tears gleamed in his eyes. When the lay was over, the room resounded with loud praises, and the baron threw a chain of gold around the minstrel's neck.

At this moment Margaret encountered Gilbert's eyes; she reddened with anger at first, but almost instantaneously became pale as death. Gilbert saw that he was recognized--he bent his head upon his breast, and prepared for the worst. But so completely had Humbert engrossed all eyes, that the maiden's agitation was not observed. She had penetrated the youth's disguise, and the discovery stunned her. She was bewildered, and could not determine what course to pursue. Humbert sounded his harp again, and began a wild romance. Concealing her agitation, she endeavored during the song to collect her thoughts. What embarra.s.sed her most, was to divine whether Gilbert's purpose in his mad visit were hostile or merely a piece of bravado. But she resolved to take no step without mature reflection. She was deliberating whether she could communicate her secret to Father Omehr, without so surprising him as to excite remark, when he rose and left the room.

The Lady Margaret was detained to hear some verses improvised to herself, which she rewarded with a slight token; she then withdrew, without raising her eyes to Gilbert. After she had disappeared, the baron dismissed the guests and retained the minstrel. Seizing this opportunity, Humbert told Gilbert he might retire until he was called, and the youth pa.s.sed out, leaving behind only a few favorite retainers with Sir Sandrit and the minnesinger. As the door closed behind him, Gilbert found himself in a long and dimly lighted corridor. He saw a black figure enter at the other end--it was Father Omehr.

"It rains too hard at present to venture out," said the priest, in pa.s.sing, and he re-entered the hall to wait till the gust had exhausted itself.

Gilbert wandered along the arched gallery without any definite aim, yet expecting to see the Lady Margaret start from some secret niche.

Suddenly his cloak was pulled so sharply, that he grasped his sword, which he had been prudent enough to conceal beneath the ample folds of his gown. As he turned, he saw a woman with her finger on her lips, but it was not the Lady Margaret: that shrivelled face and curved back belonged to Linda. The old neif, after thus enjoining silence, made a gesture for the youth to follow, and shuffled noiselessly before him.

Gilbert's heart was well-nigh bursting with anxiety as they strode along. When they reached the point where the corridor branched off into many smaller pa.s.sages, Linda entered one that opened through a sharp-arched door upon the top of a battlemented tower. The youth felt relieved by the cold, damp wind that drove through the aperture against his burning cheeks. As they reached a recess near the tower, Linda stopped and leaned against a b.u.t.tress with her arms crossed on her breast. At this moment, Gilbert became aware of the presence of a third figure, m.u.f.fled from head to foot in a mantle of fur; he felt that the Lady Margaret stood before him, but all his gallant resolutions melted away, and he remained mute and motionless, powerless to speak or act.

Apparently unconscious of Gilbert's presence, the lady stepped within the recess and knelt before a statue of the _Mater Dolorosa_; the youth was awed and abashed: he began to consider his daring adventure an unwarrantable intrusion; he meditating kissing the hem of her garment and retiring with all his love unspoken. In the midst of his suspense Margaret arose and confronted him; her manner was formal and dignified without being cold or stern.

"Are you Gilbert de Hers?" she said, in an undertone, but her voice was firm and clear.

Gilbert bowed, but made no other reply.

"What is your motive in coming here?" pursued the maiden, still calmly.

The youth was silent, his eyes fixed on the pavement.

"Why have you come so mysteriously--in such a strange disguise?"

But still no answer came.

"Are you here," continued his fair questioner, with more emphasis, "on a hostile mission? Are you seeking vengeance on our house by stealth? Are you engaged in the prosecution of some criminal vow to injure us? Speak!

Have you come to draw blood?"

"No, no!" muttered Gilbert, finding voice at last; "I bear your house no enmity."

"Beware!" said the lady. "Remember that for years you have been our professed and bitter enemy."

"I was your enemy. I solemnly declare myself one no longer."

"Then what has impelled you to this step? Is it an idle curiosity--a mere piece of bravado?" Gilbert made no reply.

"Is the object of your visit fulfilled? If so, fly at once! Your life is in danger--you cannot long escape detection--it is dangerous to tempt my father. Go! you will find none else here to listen to your denial of an inimical intent in this reckless deception."

"My object is but half fulfilled!" exclaimed the youth, throwing himself at the Lady Margaret's feet.

It would argue a poor knowledge of the quick apprehension of woman, to say that the maiden was entirely unprepared for such a movement; but the suddenness of the demonstration made her start. Gilbert's embarra.s.sment had disappeared in his fervor. He no longer stammered and stuttered, but with unhesitating eloquence went through that ancient but ever fresh story, found in the mouths of all suitors in all ages. Linda stood with her eyes and mouth distended, looking as though she had been petrified just as she was about to scream. It was rather a poor omen for Gilbert that Margaret should have turned to the old servant, who had advanced a pace, and calmly motioned her back to her corner. The daughter of Stramen listened to Gilbert's pa.s.sionate professions with the air of one who was hearing the same vows, from the same person, under similar circ.u.mstances for the second time. She could scarcely have foreseen this, but there is no estimating the power of antic.i.p.ation it is the mother of much presence of mind and unpremeditated wit.

After reciting the history of his love from its dawn to its zenith, Gilbert began to conjure her not to slight his affection, and not to permit family prejudices to stand in the way of their union.

"It can never be sufficiently lamented," he said, "that the demon of revenge has so long separated our houses, which ought to be united in the closest ties of friendship. It is time for us to learn to forgive.

We have been too long aliens from G.o.d, and wedded to our evil pa.s.sions.

We must fling aside the scowl of defiance, the angry malediction, the sword and the firebrand, and, like Christians and neighbors, contract an alliance that may edify as much as our discord has scandalized. I conjure you, in the name of the victims already made by our feud--of the numbers who must perish by its continuance--in the name of the holy Church whose precepts we have disregarded, of the G.o.d whose Commandments we have violated, not to dismiss me in scorn and anger. I have perilled my life, that I might end our enmity in love."

"I am most happy," interposed the Lady Margaret, availing herself of the first pause in his rapid utterance, "I am most happy," she repeated, in a voice of singular sweetness, "that our enmity may end in love--"

A smile of exultation shot over Gilbert's face, and a sound of joy trembled on his lips. This did not escape the maiden, for she instantly added:

"But not in the love you propose!"

The light was gone from Gilbert's countenance, and he stared wildly into the lovely and mournful face before him.

"Not in the love you propose," she resumed. Hitherto she had spoken seriously and without agitation, but now her whole manner was changed.

Her cheek glowed and her eyes gleamed: a sudden animation appeared in every limb. She took a step forward, and bent over the still kneeling youth, fixing upon his a steady, penetrating gaze, as though she sought to read his inmost soul.