CHAPTER XLVIII
THE MERCY OF LA MEFFRAYE
It was a strange night that which the three Scots spent in the littlehouse standing back from the street of Saint Philbert on the gloomyedges of the forest of Machecoul. The hostess, indeed, was unweariedlykind and brought forth from her store many dainties for theirdelectation. She talked with touching affection of her poor husband,afflicted with these strange fits of wolfish mania, in the paroxysmsof which he was wont to tear himself and grovel in the dust like abeast.
This she told them over and over as she moved about setting beforethem provend from secret stores of her own, obviously unknown orperhaps forbidden to Caesar Martin.
Wild bee honey from the woods she placed before them and white wheatenbread, such as could not be got nearer than Paris, with wine of somerarer vintage than that out of the cripple's resinous pigskin. Theseand much else La Meffraye pressed upon them till she had completelywon over the Lord James, and even Malise, easy natured like most verystrong men, was taken by the sympathetic conversation and graciouskindliness of the wife of poor afflicted Caesar Martin of SaintPhilbert. Only Sholto kept his suspicion edged and pointed, andresolved that he would not sleep that night, but watch till the dawnthe things which might befall in the house on the forest's border.
Yet it was conspicuously to Sholto that La Meffraye directed most ofher blandishments.
Her ruddy face, so bright that it seemed almost as if wholly coveredwith a birthmark, gleamed with absolute good nature as she looked athim. She threw off the black veil which half concealed her strangecoiffure of green toadstool-coloured hair. She placed her choicestmorsels before the young captain of the Douglas guard.
"'Tis hard," she said, touching him confidentially on the shoulder,"hard to dwell here in this country wherein so many deeds of blood arewrought, alone with a poor imbecile like my husband. None cares tohelp me with aught, all being too busy with their own affairs. Itfalls on me to till the fields, which, scanty as they are, are morethan my feeble strength can compass unaided. Alone I must prune andwater the vines, bring in the firewood, and go out and in by night andday to earn a scanty living for this afflicted one and myself. Youwill hear, perchance, mischief laid to my charge in this village ofevil speakers and lazy folk. They hate me because I am no gadabout tospend time abusing my neighbours at the village well. But the childrenlove me, and that is no ill sign. Their young hearts are open to lovea poor lone old woman. What cares La Meffraye for the sneers of theignorant and prejudiced so long as the children run to her gladly andsearch her pockets for the good things she never forgets to bring themfrom her kitchen?"
So the old woman, talking all the time, bustled here and there,setting sweet cakes baked with honey, confitures and bairns' goodies,figs, almonds, and cheese before her guests. But through all herblandishments Sholto watched her and had his eyes warily upon whatshould befall her husband, who could be seen lying apparently eitherasleep or unconscious upon the bed in an inner room.
"You do not speak like the folk of the south," she said to the LordJames. "Neither are you Northmen nor of the Midi. From what countrymay you come?" The question dropped casually as to fill up the time.
"We are poor Scots who have lived under the protection of your goodKing Charles, the seventh of that name, and having been restored toour possessions after the turning out of the English, we are making apilgrimage in order to visit our friends and also to lay our thanksupon the altar of the blessed Saint Andrew in his own town inScotland."
The old woman listened, approvingly nodding her head as the Lord Jamesreeled off this new and original narrative. But at the mention of theland of the Scots La Meffraye pricked her ears.
"Scots," she said meditatively; "that will surely interest my lord,who hath but recently returned from that country, whither they say hehath been upon a very confidential embassy from the King."
It was the Lord James who asked the next question.
"Have you heard whether any of our nation returned with him from ourcountry? We would gladly meet with any such, that we might hear againthe tongue of our nativity, which is ever sweet in a strange land--andalso, if it might be, take back tidings of them to their folk inScotland."
"Nay," answered La Meffraye, standing before them with her eyesshrewdly fixed upon the face of the speaker, "I have heard of nonesuch. Yet it may well be, for the marshal is very fond of the societyof the young, even as I am myself. He has many boy singers in hischoir, maidens also for his religious processions. Indeed, never do Ivisit Machecoul without finding a pretty boy or a stripling girlpassing so innocently in and out of his study, that it is a pleasureto behold."
"Is his lordship even now at Machecoul?" asked James Douglas, bluntly.The Lord James prided himself upon his tact, but when he set out tomanifest it, Sholto groaned inwardly. He was never certain from onemoment to another what the reckless young Lord might do or say next.
"I do not even know whether the marshal is now at Machecoul. The richand great, they come and go, and we poor folk understand it no morethan the passing of the wind or the flight of the birds. But let usget to our couches. The morn will soon be here, and it must not findour bodies unrested or our eyes unrefreshed."
La Meffraye showed her guests where to make their beds in the outerroom of the cottage, which they did by moving the bench back andstretching themselves with their heads to the wall and their feet tothe fire. Sholto lay on the side furthest from the entrance of theroom to which La Meffraye had retired with her husband. Malise was onthe other side, and Lord James lay in the midst, as befitted his rank.
These last were instantly asleep, being tired with their journey andheavy with the meal of which they had partaken. But every sense inSholto's body was keenly awake. A vague inexpressible fear possessedhim. He lay watching the red unequal glow thrown upwards from theembers, and through the wide opening in the roof he could discern thetwinkling of a star.
Within the chamber of La Meffraye there was silence. Sholto could noteven hear the heavy breathing of Caesar Martin. The silence wascomplete.
Suddenly, from far away, there came up the howling of a wolf. It wasnot an uncommon sound in the forests of France, or even in those ofhis own country, yet somehow Sholto listened with a growing dread.Nearer and nearer it came, till it seemed to reverberate immediatelybeneath the eaves of the dwelling of Caesar the cripple.
The flicker of the embers died slowly out. Malise lay without a sound,his head couched on his hand. Lord James began to groan and moveuneasily, like one in the grip of nightmare. Sholto listened yet moreacutely. Outside the house he could hear the soft pad-pad of wildanimals. Their pelts seemed almost to brush against the wooden wallsbehind his head with a rustle like that of corded silk. Sholto feltnervously for his sword and cleared it instinctively of the coverturein which he was wrapped. Expectation tingled in his cheeks and palms.The silence grew more and more oppressive. He could hear nothing butthat soft brushing and the galloping pads outside, as of somethingthat went round and round the house, weaving a coil of terror anddeath about the doomed inmates.
Suddenly from the adjoining chamber a cry burst forth, so shrill andterrible that not only Sholto but Malise also leaped to his feet.
"Mercy--mercy! Have mercy, La Meffraye!" it wailed.
Sholto rushed across the floor, striding the body of James Douglas inhis haste. He dashed the door of the inner chamber open and was justin time to see something dark and lithe dart through the window anddisappear into the indigo gloom without. From the bed there came aseries of gasping moans, as from a man at the point of death.
"For God's sake bring a light!" cried Sholto, "there is black murderdone here."
His father ran to the hearth, and, seizing a birchen brand, the end ofwhich was still red, he blew upon it with care and success so that itburst into a white brilliant flame that lighted all the house. Thenhe, too, entered the room where Sholto, with his sword ready in hishand, was standing over the gasping, dying thing on the bed.
When M
alise thrust forward his torch, lo! there, extended on the couchto which they had carried him two hours before, lay the yet twitchingbody of Caesar the cripple with his throat well nigh bitten away.
But La Meffraye was nowhere to be seen.