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CHAPTER VI
DUKE CHARLES THE RASH
Our caravan travelled with the mournfulness of a funeral procession.
Early in the evening Max spoke to Yolanda:--
"I hear your uncle desires Sir Karl and me to leave you at Metz."
"Yes," she answered dolefully, hanging her head, "we part at Metz. I shall see you there before I leave, and then--and then--ah, Sir Max, I was wrong and you were right; there is no hope."
"What of the lady who gave me the ring?" asked Max, in a feeble effort to banter her.
"She would have made you very happy, Sir Max. Her estates would have compensated for all losses elsewhere."
"You know, that is not true, Yolanda," said Max, earnestly.
"I am not sure, Sir Max," responded the girl, "and do not wish to be sure. I will see you at Metz, and there we may part. It is our fate. We must not be doleful, Sir Max, we must be--we must be--happy and brave."
Her poor little effort to be happy and brave was piteous.
Castleman soon fell back with Yolanda, and Max rode forward beside me.
At midnight we offsaddled by a stream in a forest and allowed our horses and mules to rest until sunrise. Then we took up our journey again, and by forced marches reached Metz one morning an hour before dawn. We waited in a drizzling rain till the gates opened, and, after a long parley with the warder, entered the city. We were all nearly exhausted, and our poor mules staggered along the streets hardly able to carry their burdens another step. Two had fallen a half-league outside of Metz; and three others fell with their loads within the city gates.
Castleman had determined to stop with a merchant friend, and after what seemed a long journey from the gates we halted at the merchant's house.
Our host left us in his parlor while he went to arrange for breakfast.
When he had gone Castleman turned to me:--
"You and Sir Max will, if you please, find good lodging at the Great Tun. My friend will send a man in advance to bespeak your comfort."
Max and I rose to leave, and Yolanda offered him her hand, saying:--
"It may be that we are to part here at Metz, but I will send for you soon and will see you before we leave, and--and--" She could not speak further; tears were in her eyes and her voice. It was not so easy after all to be happy and brave.
"You will not fail to send for me?" asked Max, clinging to her hand.
"I will not fail," she answered, looking up timidly and instantly dropping her eyes. "Of that you have better a.s.surance than you will ever know."
Castleman followed us to the street door and handed me a purse of gold.
"I have expected to part from you here," he said, "and it may be so; but I fear I shall need your services still further. My mules are unfit to travel at present; they may never be fit to use; surely not within a fortnight. I must find other sumpter mules, wait for those I have to regain their strength, or leave my goods at Metz. My fortune is invested in these silks, and if I leave them here, I shall never see them again.
In case the Duke of Lorraine succeeds in rallying his subjects against Burgundy, I shall find it difficult to buy sumpter mules on the eve of war, and may be compelled to remain in Metz until my own mules are able to travel. In that event may I depend upon you and Sir Max to escort my niece and my daughter to Peronne without me?"
I answered promptly, though against my desires:--"You may depend on us."
At midnight I was aroused by a knock at my door. I arose and admitted Castleman.
"I will take you at your word, Sir Karl," said the burgher. "I cannot obtain sumpter mules, and I shall be ruined in fortune if I leave my silks at Metz. I have had word that the Duke of Burgundy leaves Ghent the day after to-morrow for Peronne. If he leaves late in the day, you may, by starting at once, reach Peronne Castle ahead of him. His journey will be shorter than yours by twenty-five leagues, but you will have a better road. If you travel with all haste, you may be able to take Yolanda, with--with the important papers, to the castle a half-day before my lord arrives there. Are you ready to begin the journey at once?"
"We are ready," answered Max.
"I will meet you at the Deutsches Thor Gate within an hour," said Castleman. "My daughter and my niece will be there. Since you are to travel rapidly I advise a small retinue. Your squires have proved themselves worthy men, and I feel sure you will be able to protect your charges."
"We'll not boast of what we shall do, good Castleman," said Max, "but we'll do our best."
"If you reach Peronne after the duke arrives," said Castleman, "I advise you not to enter the gates of the city, but to leave Burgundy at once and with all the speed you can make. If you reach Peronne before the duke, I advise you not to tarry; but if you determine to remain, you will go to The Mitre--a quiet inn kept by my good friend Marcus Grote. I strongly advise you not to remain at Peronne; but if you do not see fit to follow my advice, I hope you will remain close at The Mitre until my return, which, I trust, will be within three weeks. Danger will attend you if you do not follow my suggestion. In any case, Sir Max, I hope you will not visit my house. My words may seem ungracious, but they are for your good and mine. When I return to Peronne, I shall be happy if you will honor my poor house; but until my return, untold trouble to many persons may follow your disregard of what I say."
Castleman then departed, and we immediately arranged for the journey.
Max and I, with our squires, were waiting at the Deutsches Thor Gate when Castleman arrived with Twonette, Yolanda, and a guide. I knocked at the door of the lodge to rouse the warder, who, of course, was asleep, and that alert guardian of a drowsy city came grumbling to the wicket.
"What in the devil's name do you want at this time of night?" he growled. "The gates won't open till dawn."
"Yes, they will," replied Castleman. "I have the burgomaster's order."
"I open the gates only on an order from the governor of the citadel,"
said the warder.
"I have not that, my good friend," responded Castleman, "but I have a hundred silver marks in my purse."
"Let me see the burgomaster's order," said the worthy gatekeeper. "I am always glad to be accommodating."
Castleman handed over the order and the purse, and the warder pretended to read the paper in the dark.
"I'll open the gate to accommodate you and to please the burgomaster,"
he said.
The gates screeched upon their hinges, and every link in the portcullis chain groaned as if it wished to alarm the city. When the portcullis was a-block, Max, myself, and the squires mounted our horses. Yolanda leaned down from her saddle and, placing her arms about Castleman's neck, kissed him. Twonette followed her example; then our small cavalcade pa.s.sed out through the gate, and we entered on our long, hard race with the Duke of Burgundy.
At dawn Yolanda called me to her side.
"Our guide will conduct us to Cinq Voies on the Somme, eight leagues this side of Peronne," she said. "There we shall dismiss him. From Cinq Voies the road is straight to Peronne down the river. Shall we put our horses to the gallop?"
To her last suggestion I objected:--
"We have no relays. These horses must carry us to Peronne. In Styria we have an adage, 'If you would gallop on a long journey, walk your horse.'"
"In Styria!" exclaimed Yolanda, laughing. "You told me you were from Italy."
"So I am," I replied.
"Now you say _we_ have an adage in Styria," she returned, amused at my discomfiture. "I hope you have not been wandering from the path of truth in your long journey, Sir Karl."
"No farther than yourself, Fraulein," I answered.
A frown came instantly to her face and, after a moment's hesitation, she retorted:--
"Ah, but I am a woman; I am privileged to wander a little way from the narrow road. A man may protect himself with his sword and battle-axe, and need never stray. A woman's defence lies in her wit and her tongue."