_The Story of the Rat-Trap_
In the year of grace 1298, a little before Candlemas (thus Nicolasbegins), came letters to the first King Edward of England from hiskinsman and ambassador to France, Earl Edmund of Lancaster. It wasperfectly apparent, the Earl wrote, that the French King meant tosurrender to the Earl's lord and brother neither the duchy of Guiennenor the Lady Blanch. This lady, I must tell you, was now affianced toKing Edward, whose first wife, Dame Ellinor, had died eight years beforethis time.
The courier found Sire Edward at Ipswich, midway in celebration of hisdaughter's marriage to the Count of Holland. The King read the lettersthrough and began to laugh; and presently broke into a rage such as waspossible (men whispered) only to the demon-tainted blood of Oriander'sdescendants. Next day the keeper of the privy purse entered upon thehouse-hold-books a considerable sum "to make good a large ruby and anemerald lost out of his coronet when the King's Grace was pleased tothrow it into the fire"; and upon the same day the King recalledLancaster. The King then despatched yet another embassy into France totreat about Sire Edward's marriage. This last embassy was headed by theEarl of Aquitaine: his lieutenant was Lord Pevensey, the King's naturalson by Hawise Bulmer.
The Earl got audience of the French King at Mezelais. Walking alone camethis Earl of Aquitaine, with a large retinue, into the hall where thebarons of France stood according to their rank; in unadorned russet werethe big Earl and his attendants, but upon the scarlets and purples ofthe French lords many jewels shone: it was as though through a corridorof gayly painted sunlit glass that the grave Earl came to the dais wheresat King Philippe.
The King had risen at close sight of the new envoy, and had gulped onceor twice, and without speaking, had hurriedly waved his lords out ofear-shot. The King's perturbation was very extraordinary.
"Fair cousin," the Earl now said, without any prelude, "four years ago Iwas affianced to your sister, Dame Blanch. You stipulated that Gasconybe given up to you in guaranty, as a settlement on any children I mighthave by that incomparable lady. I assented, and yielded you theprovince, upon the understanding, sworn to according to the faith ofloyal kings, that within forty days you assign to me its seignory asyour vassal. And I have had of you since then neither my province normy betrothed wife, but only excuses, Sire Philippe."
With eloquence the Frenchman touched upon the emergencies to which thepublic weal so often drives men of high station, and upon his privategrief over the necessity--unavoidable, alas!--of returning a hard answerbefore the council; and became so voluble that Sire Edward merelylaughed in that big-lunged and disconcerting way of his, and afterwardlodged for a week at Mezelais, nominally passing by his minor title ofEarl of Aquitaine, and as his own ambassador.
Negotiations became more swift of foot, since a man serves himself withzeal. In addition, the French lords could make nothing of a politicianso thick-witted that he replied to every consideration of expediencywith a parrot-like reiteration of the circumstance that already thebargain was signed and sworn to: in consequence, while daily they fumedover his stupidity, daily he gained his point. During this period hewas, upon one pretext or another, very often in the company of hisaffianced wife, Dame Blanch.
This lady, I must tell you, was the handsomest of her day; there couldnowhere be found a creature more agreeable to every sense; and shecompelled the adoring regard of men, it is recorded, not gently but inan imperious fashion. Sire Edward, who, till this, had loved her merelyby report, and, in accordance with the high custom of old, through manyperusals of her portrait, now appeared besotted. He was an aging man,near sixty, huge and fair, with a crisp beard, and the bright unequaleyes of Manuel of Poictesme. The better-read at Mezelais began to likenthis so candidly enamored monarch and his Princess to Sieur Hercules atthe feet of Queen Omphale.
The court hunted and slew a stag of ten in the woods of Ermenoueil,which stand thick about the chateau; and at the hunt's end, these twohad dined at Rigon the forester's hut, in company with Dame Meregrett,the French King's younger sister. She sat a little apart from thebetrothed, and stared through the hut's one window. We know, nowadays,it was not merely the trees she was considering.
Dame Blanch seemed undisposed to mirth. "We have slain the stag, beausire," she said, "and have made of his death a brave diversion. To-daywe have had our sport of death,--and presently the gay years wind pastus, as our cavalcade came toward the stag, and God's incurious angelslays us, much as we slew the stag. And we shall not understand, and weshall wonder, as the stag did, in helpless wonder. And Death will havehis sport of us, as if in atonement." Her big eyes shone, as when thesun glints upon a sand-bottomed pool. "Ohe, I have known such happinessof late, beau sire, that I am hideously afraid to die."
The King answered, "I too have been very happy of late."
"But it is profitless to talk about death thus drearily. Let us flouthim, instead, with some gay song." And thereupon she handed Sire Edwarda lute.
The King accepted it. "Death is not reasonably mocked by any person,"Sire Edward said, "since in the end he conquers, and of the lips thatgibed at him remains but a little dust. Rather should I, who alreadystand beneath a lifted sword, make for my destined and inescapableconqueror a Sirvente, which is the Song of Service."
Sang Sire Edward:[3]
"I sing of Death, that comes unto the king, And lightly plucks him from the cushioned throne; And drowns his glory and his warfaring In unrecorded dim oblivion; And girds another with the sword thereof; And sets another in his stead to reign; And ousts the remnant, nakedly to gain Styx' formless shore and nakedly complain Midst twittering ghosts lamenting life and love.
"For Death is merciless: a crack-brained king He raises in the place of Prester John, Smites Priam, and mid-course in conquering Bids Caesar pause; the wit of Salomon, The wealth of Nero and the pride thereof, And battle-prowess--or of Tamburlaine Darius, Jeshua, or Charlemaigne,-- Wheedle and bribe and surfeit Death in vain, And get no grace of him nor any love.
"Incuriously he smites the armored king And tricks his counsellors--"
"True, O God!" murmured the tiny woman, who sat beside the windowyonder. With that, Dame Meregrett rose, and passed from the room.
The two lovers started, and laughed, and afterward paid little heed toher outgoing. Sire Edward had put aside the lute and sat now regardingthe Princess. His big left hand propped the bearded chin; his gravecountenance was flushed, and his intent eyes shone under their shaggybrows, very steadily, although the left eye was now so nearly shut as toreveal the merest spark.
Irresolutely, Dame Blanch plucked at her gown; then rearranged a fold ofit, and with composure awaited the ensuing action, afraid at bottom, butnot at all ill-pleased; and she looked downward.
The King said: "Never before were we two alone, madame. Fate is verygracious to me this morning."
"Fate," the lady considered, "has never denied much to the Hammer of theScots."
"She has denied me nothing," he sadly said, "save the one thing thatmakes this business of living seem a rational proceeding. Fame and powerand wealth fate has accorded me, no doubt, but never the common joys oflife. And, look you, my Princess, I am of aging person now. During somethirty years I have ruled England according to my interpretation ofGod's will as it was anciently made manifest by the holy Evangelists;and during that period I have ruled England not without odd by-ends ofcommendation: yet behold, to-day I forget the world-applauded, excellentKing Edward, and remember only Edward Plantagenet--hot-blooded anddesirous man!--of whom that much-commended king has made a prisoner allthese years."
"It is the duty of exalted persons," Blanch unsteadily said, "to putaside such private inclinations as their breasts may harbor--"
He said, "I have done what I might for the happiness of every Englishmanwithin my realm saving only Edward Plantagenet; and now I think his turnto be at hand." Then the man kept silence; and his hot appraisal dauntedher.
"Lord," she presently faltered, "lord, you know that we are al
readybetrothed, and, in sober verity, Love cannot extend his laws betweenhusband and wife, since the gifts of love are voluntary, and husband andwife are but the slaves of duty--"
"Troubadourish nonsense!" Sire Edward said; "yet it is true that thegifts of love are voluntary. And therefore--Ha, most beautiful, whathave you and I to do with all this chaffering over Guienne?" The twostood very close to each other now. Blanch said, "It is a highmatter--" Then on a sudden the full-veined girl was aglow. "It is atrivial matter." He took her in his arms, since already her cheeksflared in scarlet anticipation of the event.
Thus holding her, he wooed the girl tempestuously. Here, indeed, wasSieur Hercules enslaved, burned by a fiercer fire than that of Nessus,and the huge bulk of the unconquerable visibly shaken by his adoration.In a disordered tapestry of verbiage, aflap in winds of passion, shepresently beheld herself prefigured by Balkis, the Judean's lure, and bythat Princess of Cyprus who reigned in Aristotle's time, and byNicolete, the King's daughter of Carthage,--since the first flush ofmorning was as a rush-light before her resplendency, the man swore; andin conclusion, he likened her to a modern Countess of Tripolis, for loveof whom he, like Rudel, had cleft the seas, and losing whom he mustinevitably die as did Rudel. Sire Edward snapped his fingers now overany consideration of Guienne. He would conquer for her all Muscovy andall Cataia, too, if she desired mere acreage. Meanwhile he wanted her,and his hard and savage passion beat down opposition as if with abludgeon.
"Heart's emperor," the trembling girl replied, "I think that you werecast in some larger mould than we of France. Oh, none of us may dareresist you! and I know that nothing matters, nothing in all the world,save that you love me. Then take me, since you will it,--and take menot as King, since you will otherwise, but as Edward Plantagenet. Forlisten! by good luck you have this afternoon despatched Rigon forChevrieul, where to-morrow we were to hunt the great boar. So to-nightthis hut will be unoccupied."
The man was silent. He had a gift that way when occasion served.
"Here, then, beau sire! here, then, at nine, you are to meet me with mychaplain. Behold, he marries us, as glibly as though we two werepeasants. Poor king and princess!" cried Dame Blanch, and in a voicewhich thrilled him, "shall ye not, then, dare to be but man and woman?"
"Ha!" the King said. "So the chaplain makes a third! Well, the King ispleased to loose his prisoner, that long-imprisoned Edward Plantagenet:and I will do it."
So he came that night, without any retinue, and habited as a forester,with a horn swung about his neck, into the unlighted hut of Rigon theforester, and he found a woman there, though not the woman whom he hadexpected.
"Treachery, beau sire! Horrible treachery!" she wailed.
"I have encountered it before this," the big man said.
"Presently will come to you not Blanch but Philippe, with many men toback him. And presently they will slay you. You have been trapped, beausire. Ah, for the love of God, go! Go, while there is yet time!" SireEdward reflected. Undoubtedly, to light on Edward Longshanks alone in aforest would appear to King Philippe, if properly attended, a temptingchance to settle divers difficulties, once for all; and Sire Edward knewthe conscience of his old opponent to be invulnerable. The act wouldviolate the core of hospitality and knighthood, no doubt, but itsoutcome would be a very definite gain to France, and for the rest,merely a dead body in a ditch. Not a monarch in Christendom, Sire Edwardreflected, but feared and in consequence hated the Hammer of the Scots,and in further consequence would not lift a finger to avenge him; andnot a being in the universe would rejoice more heartily at the successof Philippe's treachery than would Sire Edward's son and immediatesuccessor, the young Prince Edward of Caernarvon. Taking matters by andlarge, Philippe had all the powers of common-sense to back him incontriving an assassination.
What Sire Edward said was, "Dame Blanch, then, knew of this?" ButMeregrett's pitiful eyes had already answered him, and he laughed alittle.
"In that event, I have to-night enregistered my name among the goodlycompany of Love's Lunatics,--as yokefellow with Dan Merlin in histhornbush, and with wise Salomon when he capered upon the high places ofChemosh, and with Duke Ares sheepishly agrin in the net of Mulciber.Rogues all, madame! fools all! yet always the flesh trammels us, andallures the soul to such sensual delights as bar its passage toward theeternal life wherein alone lies the empire and the heritage of the soul.And why does this carnal prison so impede the soul? Because Satan onceranked among the sons of God, and the Eternal Father, as I take it, hasnot yet forgotten the antique relationship,--and hence it is permittedeven in our late time that always the flesh rebel against the spirit,and that always these so tiny and so thin-voiced tricksters, thesehighly tinted miracles of iniquity, so gracious in demeanor and sostarry-eyed--"
Then he turned and pointed, no longer the orotund zealot but theexpectant captain now. "Look, my Princess!" In the pathway from which hehad recently emerged stood a man in full armor like a sentinel. "Mort deDieu, we can but try to get out of this," Sire Edward said.
"You should have tried without talking so much," replied Meregrett. Shefollowed him. And presently, in a big splash of moonlight, the armedman's falchion glittered across their way. "Back," he bade them, "for bythe King's orders, I can let no man pass."
"It would be very easy now to strangle this herring," Sire Edwardreflected.
"But it is not easy to strangle a whole school of herring," the fellowretorted. "Hoh, Messire d'Aquitaine, the bushes of Ermenoueil are alivewith my associates. The hut yonder, in effect, is girdled by them,--andwe have our orders to let no man pass."
"Have you any orders concerning women?" the King said.
The man deliberated. Sire Edward handed him three gold pieces. "Therewas assuredly no specific mention of petticoats," the soldier nowrecollected, "and in consequence I dare to pass the Princess, againstwhom certainly nothing can be planned."
"Why, in that event," Sire Edward said, "we two had as well bid eachother adieu."
But Meregrett only said, "You bid me go?"
He waved his hand. "Since there is no choice. For that which you havedone--however tardily--I thank you. Meantime I return to Rigon's hut torearrange my toga as King Caesar did when the assassins fell upon him,and to encounter with due decorum whatever Dame Luck may prefer."
She said, "You go to your death."
He shrugged his broad shoulders. "In the end we necessarily die."
Dame Meregrett turned, and without faltering passed back into the hut.
When he had lighted the inefficient lamp which he found there, SireEdward wheeled upon her in half-humorous vexation. "Presently come yourbrother and his tattling lords. To be discovered here with me at night,alone, means trouble for you. If Philippe chances to fall into one ofhis Capetian rages it means death."
She answered, as though she were thinking about other matters, "Yes."
Now, for the first time, Sire Edward regarded her with profoundconsideration. To the finger-tips this so-little lady showed adescendant of the holy Lewis whom he had known and loved in old years.Small and thinnish she was, with soft and profuse hair that, for all itsblackness, gleamed in the lamplight with stray ripples of brilliancy, asyou may see sparks shudder to extinction over burning charcoal. She hadthe Valois nose, long and delicate in form, and overhanging a shortupper-lip; yet the lips were glorious in tint, and the whiteness of herskin would have matched the Hyperborean snows tidily enough. As for hereyes, the customary similes of the court poets were gigantic onyxes orebony highly polished and wet with May dew. These eyes were too big forher little face: they made of her a tiny and desirous wraith whichnervously endured each incident of life, like a foreigner uneasilyacquiescent to the custom of the country.
Sire Edward moved one step toward this tiny lady and paused. "Madame, Ido not understand."
Dame Meregrett looked up into his face unflinchingly. "It means that Ilove you, sire. I may speak without shame now, for presently you die.Die bravely, sire! Die in such fashion as may hearten me to
live."
The little Princess spoke the truth, for always since his coming toMezelais she had viewed the great conqueror as through an aweful haze offorerunning rumor, twin to that golden vapor which enswathes a god andtransmutes whatever in corporeal man would have been a defect into somedivine and hitherto unguessed-at excellence. I must tell you in thisplace, since no other occasion offers, that even until the end of herlife it was so. For to her what in other persons would have seemedflagrant dulness showed somehow, in Sire Edward, as the majesticdeliberation of one that knows his verdict to be decisive, and thereforeappraises cautiously; and if sometimes his big, irregular calm eyesbetrayed no apprehension of the jest at which her lips were laughing,and of which her brain approved, always within the instant her heartconvinced her that a god is not lightly moved to mirth.
And now it was a god--_O deus certe!_--who had taken a woman's paltryface between his hands, half roughly. "And the maid is a Capet!" SireEdward mused.
"Blanch has never desired you any ill, beau sire. But she loves theArchduke of Austria. And once you were dead, she might marry him. Onecannot blame her," Meregrett considered, "since he wishes to marry her,and she, of course, wishes to make him happy."
"And not herself, save in some secondary way!" the big King said. "Inpart I comprehend, madame. Now I too hanker after this same happiness,and my admiration for the cantankerous despoiler whom I praised thismorning is somewhat abated. There was a Tenson once--Lord, Lord, howlong ago! I learn too late that truth may possibly have been upon thelosing side--" Thus talking incoherencies, he took up Rigon's lute.
Sang Sire Edward:
"Incuriously he smites the armored king And tricks his counsellors--
"yes, the jingle ran thus. Now listen, madame--listen, the while that Ihave my singing out, whatever any little cut-throats may be planning incorners."
Sang Sire Edward:
"As, later on, Death will, half-idly, still our pleasuring, And change for fevered laughter in the sun Sleep such as Merlin's,--and excess thereof,-- Whence we, divorceless Death our Viviaine Implacable, may never more regain The unforgotten rapture, and the pain And grief and ecstasy of life and love.
"For, presently, as quiet as the king Sleeps now that planned the keeps of Ilion, We, too, will sleep, whilst overhead the spring Rules, and young lovers laugh--as we have done,-- And kiss--as we, that take no heed thereof, But slumber very soundly, and disdain The world-wide heralding of winter's wane And swift sweet ripple of the April rain Running about the world to waken love.
"We shall have done with Love, and Death be king And turn our nimble bodies carrion, Our red lips dusty;--yet our live lips cling Despite that age-long severance and are one Despite the grave and the vain grief thereof,-- Which we will baffle, if in Death's domain Fond memories may enter, and we twain May dream a little, and rehearse again In that unending sleep our present love.
"Speed forth to her in halting unison, My rhymes: and say no hindrance may restrain Love from his aim when Love is bent thereon; And that were love at my disposal lain-- All mine to take!--and Death had said, 'Refrain, Lest I, even I, exact the cost thereof,' I know that even as the weather-vane Follows the wind so would I follow Love."
Sire Edward put aside the lute. "Thus ends the Song of Service," hesaid, "which was made not by the King of England but by EdwardPlantagenet--hot-blooded and desirous man!--in honor of the one womanwho within more years than I care to think of has at all consideredEdward Plantagenet."
"I do not comprehend," she said. And, indeed, she dared not.
But now he held both tiny hands in his. "At best, your poet is anegotist. I must die presently. Meantime I crave largesse, madame, and agreat almsgiving, so that in his unending sleep your poet may rehearseour present love." And even in Rigon's dim light he found her kindlingeyes not niggardly.
Sire Edward strode to the window and raised big hands toward thespear-points of the aloof stars. "Master of us all!" he cried; "O Fatherof us all! the Hammer of the Scots am I! the Scourge of France, theconqueror of Llewellyn and of Leicester, and the flail of the accursedrace that slew Thine only Son! the King of England am I, who have madeof England an imperial nation, and have given to Thy Englishmen newlaws! And to-night I crave my hire. Never, O my Father, have I had ofany person aught save reverence or hatred! never in my life has anyperson loved me! And I am old, my Father--I am old, and presently I die.As I have served Thee--as Jacob wrestled with Thee at the ford ofJabbok--at the place of Peniel--" Against the tremulous blue and silverof the forest the Princess saw how horribly the big man was shaken. "Myhire! my hire!" he hoarsely said. "Forty long years, my Father! And nowI will not let Thee go except Thou hear me, and grant me life and thiswoman's love."
He turned, stark and black in the rearward splendor of the moon. _"As aprince hast thou power with God,"_ he calmly said, _"and thou hastprevailed._ For the King of kings was never obdurate, my dear, to themthat have deserved well of Him. So He will attend to my request, andwill get us out of this pickle somehow."
Even as he said this, Philippe the Handsome came into the room, and atthe heels of the French King were seven lords, armed cap-a-pie.
The French King was an odd man. Subtly smiling, he came forward throughthe twilight, with soft, long strides, and he made no outcry atrecognition of his sister. "Take the woman away, Victor," he said,disinterestedly, to de Montespan. Afterward he sat down beside the tableand remained silent for a while, intently regarding Sire Edward and thetiny woman who clung to Sire Edward's arm; and in the flickering gloomof the hut Philippe smiled as an artist may smile who gazes on theperfected work and knows it to be adroit.
"You prefer to remain, my sister?" he said presently. "He bien! ithappens that to-night I am in a mood for granting almost any favor. Alittle later and I will attend to your merits." The fleet disorder ofhis visage had lapsed again into the meditative smile which was that ofLucifer watching a toasted soul. "And so it ends," he said, "and Englandloses to-night the heir that Manuel the Redeemer provided. Conqueror ofScotland, Scourge of France! O unconquerable king! and will the worms ofErmenoueil, then, pause to-morrow to consider through what a gloriousturmoil their dinner came to them?"
"Do you design to murder me?" Sire Edward said.
The French King shrugged. "I design that within this moment my lordsshall slay you while I sit here and do not move a finger. Is it not goodto be a king, my cousin, and to sit quite still, and to see yourbitterest enemy hacked and slain,--and all the while to sit quite still,quite unruffled, as a king should always be? Eh, eh! I never lived untilto-night!"
"Now, by Heaven," said Sire Edward, "I am your kinsman and your guest, Iam unarmed--"
Philippe bowed his head. "Undoubtedly," he assented, "the deed is foul.But I desire Gascony very earnestly, and so long as you live you willnever permit me to retain Gascony. Hence it is quite necessary, youconceive, that I murder you. What!" he presently said, "will you not begfor mercy? I had hoped," the French King added, somewhat wistfully,"that you might be afraid to die, O huge and righteous man! and wouldentreat me to spare you. To spurn the weeping conqueror of Llewellyn,say ... But these sins which damn one's soul are in actual performancevery tedious affairs; and I begin to grow aweary of the game. He bien!now kill this man for me, messieurs."
The English King strode forward. "Shallow trickster!" Sire Edwardthundered. _"Am I not afraid?_ You grimacing baby, do you think toensnare a lion with such a flimsy rat-trap? Wise persons do not huntlions with these contraptions: for it is the nature of a rat-trap, faircousin, to ensnare not the beast which imperiously desires and takes indaylight, but the tinier and the filthier beast that covets meanly andattacks under the cover of darkness--as do you and your seven skulkers!"The man was rather terrible; not a Frenchman within the hut but haddrawn back a little.
"Listen!" Sire Edward said, and he came yet farther toward the King ofFrance and shook at him one forefinger; "when you were in your cradle Iwas leading armies. When you were ye
t unbreeched I was lord of halfEurope. For thirty years I have driven kings before me as did Fierabras.Am I, then, a person to be hoodwinked by the first big-bosomed huzzythat elects to waggle her fat shoulders and to grant an assignation in aforest expressly designed for stabbings? You baby, is the Hammer of theScots the man to trust for one half moment a Capet? Ill-manneredinfant," the King said, with bitter laughter, "it is now necessary thatI summon my attendants and remove you to a nursery which I have preparedin England." He set the horn to his lips and blew three blasts. Therecame many armed warriors into the hut, bearing ropes. Here was theentire retinue of the Earl of Aquitaine. Cursing, Sire Philippe sprangupon the English King, and with a dagger smote at the impassive bigman's heart. The blade broke against the mail armor under the tunic."Have I not told you," Sire Edward wearily said, "that one may nevertrust a Capet? Now, messieurs, bind these carrion and convey themwhither I have directed you. Nay, but, Roger--" He conversed apart withhis son, the Earl of Pevensey, and what Sire Edward commanded was done.The French King and seven lords of France went from that hut trussedlike chickens ready for the oven.
And now Sire Edward turned toward Meregrett and chafed his big handsgleefully. "At every tree-bole a tethered horse awaits us; and a shipawaits our party at Fecamp. To-morrow we sleep in England--and, Mort deDieu! do you not think, madame, that once within my very persuasiveTower of London, your brother and I may come to some agreement overGuienne?"
She had shrunk from him. "Then the trap was yours? It was you that luredmy brother to this infamy!"
"In effect, I planned it many months ago at Ipswich yonder," Sire Edwardgayly said. "Faith of a gentleman! your brother has cheated me ofGuienne, and was I to waste eternity in begging him to give me back myprovince? Oh, no, for I have many spies in France, and have for some twoyears known your brother and your sister to the bottom. Granted that Icame hither incognito, to forecast your kinfolk's immediate endeavorswas none too difficult; and I wanted Guienne--and, in consequence, theperson of your brother. Hah, death of my life! does not the seasonedhunter adapt his snare to the qualities of his prey, and take theelephant through his curiosity, as the snake through his notorioustreachery?" Now the King of England blustered.
But the little Princess wrung her hands. "I am this night most hideouslyshamed. Beau sire, I came hither to aid a brave man infamously trapped,and instead I find an alert spider, snug in his cunning web, andpatiently waiting until the gnats of France fly near enough. Eh, thegreater fool was I to waste my labor on the shrewd and evil thing whichhas no more need of me than I of it! And now let me go hence, sire,unmolested, for the sake of chivalry. Could I have come to the brave manI had dreamed of, I would have come cheerily through the murkiest laneof hell; as the more artful knave, as the more judicious trickster"--andhere she thrust him from her--"I spit upon you. Now let me go hence."
He took her in his brawny arms. "Fit mate for me," he said. "Littlevixen, had you done otherwise I would have devoted you to the devil."
Still grasping her, and victoriously lifting Dame Meregrett, so thather feet swung clear of the floor, Sire Edward said, again with thatqueer touch of fanatic gravity: "My dear, you are perfectly right. I wastempted, I grant you. But it was never reasonable that gentlefolk shouldcheat at their dicing. Therefore I whispered Roger Bulmer my finaldecision; and he is now loosing all my captives in the courtyard ofMezelais, after birching the tails of every one of them as soundly asthese infants' pranks to-night have merited. So you perceive that I donot profit by my trick; and that I lose Guienne, after all, in order tocome to you with hands--well! not intolerably soiled."
"Oh, now I love you!" she cried, a-thrill with disappointment to findhim so unthriftily high-minded. "Yet you have done wrong, for Guienne isa king's ransom."
He smiled whimsically, and presently one arm swept beneath her knees, sothat presently he held her as one dandles a baby; and presently hisstiff and graying beard caressed her burning cheek. Masterfully he said:"Then let Guienne serve as such and ransom for a king his glad andcommon manhood. Now it appears expedient that I leave France without anyunwholesome delay, because these children may resent being spanked. Morelately--he, already I have in my pocket the Pope's dispensationpermitting me to marry, in spite of our cousinship, the sister of theKing of France."
Very shyly Dame Meregrett lifted her little mouth. She said nothingbecause talk was not necessary.
In consequence, after a deal of political tergiversation (Nicolasconcludes), in the year of grace 1299, on the day of our Lady'snativity, and in the twenty-seventh year of King Edward's reign, came tothe British realm, and landed at Dover, not Dame Blanch, as would havebeen in consonance with seasoned expectation, but Dame Meregrett, theother daughter of King Philippe the Bold; and upon the following dayproceeded to Canterbury, whither on the next Thursday after came Edward,King of England, into the Church of the Trinity at Canterbury, andtherein espoused the aforesaid Dame Meregrett.
THE END OF THE THIRD NOVEL