CHAPTER XXXVIII
OUTSIDE the town they found the snow fresh trampled by innumerablewolves every foot of the road.
"We did well to take the old man's advice Denys."
"Ay did we. For now I think on't I did hear them last night a-scurryingunder our window and howling and whining for man's flesh in yonmarket-place. But no fat burgher did pity the poor vagabones, and dropout o' window."
Gerard smiled, but with an air of abstraction.
And they plodded on in silence.
* * * * *
"What dost meditate so profoundly?"
"Thy goodness."
Denys was anything but pleased at this answer. Amongst his oddities youmay have observed that he could stand a great deal of real impertinence,he was so good-humoured. But would fire up now and then where not eventhe shadow of a ground for anger existed.
"A civil question merits a civil reply," said he very drily.
"Alas, I meant no other," said Gerard.
"Then why pretend you were thinking of my goodness, when you know I haveno goodness under my skin."
"Had another said this, I had answered 'thou liest.' But to thee I say:'hast no eye for men's qualities, but only for women's.' And, once more,I do defy thy unreasonable choler, and say I was thinking of thygoodness of overnight. Wouldst have wedded me to the 'Tete d'Or,' orrather to the 'tete de veau doree,' and left thyself solitary."
"Oh, are ye there, lad?" said Denys recovering his good-humour in amoment. "Well, but to speak sooth, I meant that not for goodness; butfor friendship and true fellowship, no more. And let me tell you, myyoung master, my conscience it pricketh me even now for letting you turnyour back thus on fortune and peaceful days. A truer friend than I hadta'en and somewhat hamstrung thee. Then hadst thou been fain to liesmarting at the 'Tete d'Or' a month or so: yon skittish lass had nursedthee tenderly, and all had been well. Blade I had in hand to do't, but,remembering how thou hatest pain though it be but a scratch, my cravenheart it failed me at the pinch." And Denys wore a look of humbleapology for his lack of virtuous resolution when the path of duty lay soclear.
Gerard raised his eyebrows with astonishment at this monstrous butthoroughly characteristic revelation; however this new and delicatepoint of friendship was never discussed; viz., whether one ought in alllove to cut the tendon Achilles of one's friend. For an incidentinterposed.
"Here cometh one in our rear a-riding on his neighbour's mule," shoutedDenys.
Gerard turned round. "And how know ye 'tis not his own, pray?"
"Oh blind! Because he rides it with no discretion."
And in truth the man came galloping like a fury. But what astonished thefriends most was that on reaching them the rustic rider's eyes openedsaucer-like, and he drew the rein so suddenly and powerfully, that themule stuck out her fore legs, and went sliding between the pedestrianslike a four-legged table on casters.
"I trow ye are from the 'Tete d'Or.'" They assented. "Which of ye is theyounger?"
"He that was born the later," said Denys winking at his companion.
"Gramercy for the news."
"Come, divine then!"
"And shall. Thy beard is ripe; thy fellow's is green; he shall be theyounger; here, youngster." And he held him out a paper packet. "Ye leftthis at the 'Tete d'Or': and our mistress sends it ye."
"Nay, good fellow, methinks I left nought." And Gerard felt his pouch,etc.
"Would ye make our burgess a liar," said the rustic reproachfully: "andshall I have no pourboire?" (still more reproachfully); "and came ventrea terre."
"Nay, thou shalt have pourboire," and he gave him a small coin.
"A la bonne heure," cried the clown, and his feature beamed withdisproportionate joy. "The Virgin go with ye; come up, Jenny!" and backhe went "stomach to earth," as his nation is pleased to call it.
Gerard undid the packet: it was about six inches square, and inside ithe found another packet, which contained a packet, and so on. At thefourth he hurled the whole thing into the snow. Denys took it out andrebuked his petulance. He excused himself on the ground of hatingaffectation.
Denys attested "'The great toe of the little daughter of Herodias' therewas no affectation here, but only woman's good wit. Doubtless the wrapscontained something which out of delicacy, or her sex's lovely cunning,she would not her hind should see her bestow on a young man; thy garter,to wit."
"I wear none."
"Her own then; or a lock of her hair. What is this? A piece of raw silkfresh from the worm. Well of all the love tokens!"
"Now who but thee ever dreamed that she is so naught as send me lovetokens? I saw no harm in her--barring her hands."
"Stay, here is something hard lurking in this soft nest. Come forth Isay, little nestling! Saints and pikestaves! look at this!"
It was a gold ring, with a great amethyst glowing and sparkling, fullcoloured, but pure as crystal.
"How lovely!" said Gerard, innocently.
"And here is something writ: read it thou! I read not so glib as some;when I know not the matter beforehand."
Gerard took the paper. "'Tis a posy: and fairly enough writ." He readthe lines, blushing like a girl. They were very naive, and may be thusEnglished:--
"Youth, with thee my heart is fledde, Come back to the 'golden Hedde!' Wilt not? yet this token keepe Of her wh[)o] d[=oe]th thy goeing weepe. Gyf the world prove harsh and cold, Come back to 'the Hedde of gold.'"
"The little dove!" purred Denys.
"The great owl! To go and risk her good name thus. However, thank Heavenshe has played this prank with an honest lad that will ne'er expose herfolly. But oh, the perverseness! Could she not bestow her nauseousnesson thee?" Denys sighed and shrugged. "On thee that art as ripe for follyas herself?"
Denys confessed that his young friend had harped his very thought. 'Twaspassing strange to him that a damsel with eyes in her head should passby a man, and bestow her affections on a boy. Still he could not butrecognize in this the bounty of Nature. Boys were human beings afterall, and, but for this occasional caprice of women, their lot would betoo terrible; they would be out of the sun altogether, blighted, andnever come to anything: since only the fair could make a man out of suchunpromising materials as a boy. Gerard interrupted this flatteringdiscourse to beg the warrior-philosopher's acceptance of the lady'sring. He refused it flatly, and insisted on Gerard going back to the"Tete d'Or" at once, ring and all, like a man, and not letting a poorgirl hold out her arms to him in vain.
"Her hands you mean."
"Her hand, with the 'Tete d'Or' in it."
Failing in this he was for putting the ring on his friend's finger.Gerard declined. "I wear a ring already."
"What that sorry gimcrack? Why 'tis pewter, or tin at best: and thisvirgin gold, forbye the jewel."
"Ay, but 'twas Margaret gave me this one: and I value it above rubies.I'll neither part with it nor give it a rival:" and he kissed the basemetal, and bade it fear nought.
"I see the owl hath sent her ring to a goose," said Denys, sorrowfully.However he prevailed on Gerard to fasten it inside his bonnet. To thisindeed the lad consented very readily. For sovereign qualities wereuniversally ascribed to certain jewels; and the amethyst ranked highamong these precious talismans.
When this was disposed of, Gerard earnestly requested his friend to letthe matter drop, since speaking of the other sex to him made him pine sofor Margaret, and almost unmanned him with the thought that each stepwas taking him farther from her. "I am no general lover, Denys. There isroom in my heart for one sweetheart, and for one friend. I am far frommy dear mistress: and my friend, a few leagues more and I must lose himtoo. Oh let me drink thy friendship pure while I may, and not dilutewith any of these stupid females."
"And shalt, honey-pot, and shalt," said Denys, kindly. "But as to myleaving thee at Remiremont, reckon thou not on that! For" (threeconsecutive oaths) "if I do. Nay, I shall propose to thee to stayforty-eight hours there while I kiss
my mother and sisters, and thefemales generally, and on go you and I together to the sea."
"Denys! Denys!"
"Denys not me! 'Tis settled. Gainsay me not! or I'll go with thee toRome. Why not? his holiness the Pope hath ever some little merrypleasant war toward, and a Burgundian soldier is still welcome in hisranks."
On this Gerard opened his heart. "Denys, ere I fell in with thee, I usedoften to halt on the road, unable to go farther: my puny heart so pulledme back: and then, after a short prayer to the saints for aid, would Irise and drag my most unwilling body onward. But since I joined companywith thee, great is my courage. I have found the saying of the ancientstrue, that better is a bright comrade on the weary road than a horselitter; and, dear brother, when I do think of what we have done andsuffered together! Savedst my life from the bear, and from yet moresavage thieves; and even poor I did make shift to draw thee out ofRhine, and somehow loved thee double from that hour. How many tiestender and strong between us! Had I my will, I'd never, never, never,never, part with my Denys on this side the grave. Well-a-day! God hiswill be done."
"No, my will shall be done this time," shouted Denys. "Le bon Dieu hasbigger fish to fry than you or me. I'll go with thee to Rome. There ismy hand on it."
"Think what you say! 'Tis impossible. 'Tis too selfish of me."
"I tell thee, 'tis settled. No power can change me. At Remiremont Iborrow ten pieces of my uncle, and on we go: 'tis fixed; irrevocable asfate."
They shook hands over it. Then Gerard said nothing, for his heart wastoo full: but he ran twice round his companion as he walked, then dancedbackwards in front of him, and finally took his hand, and so on theywent hand-in-hand like sweethearts, till a company of mounted soldiers,about fifty in number, rose to sight on the brow of a hill.
"See the banner of Burgundy," said Denys, joyfully. "I shall look outfor a comrade among these."
"How gorgeous is the standard in the sun," said Gerard; "and how braveare the leaders with velvet and feathers, and steel breastplates likeglassy mirrors!"
When they came near enough to distinguish faces, Denys uttered anexclamation: "Why 'tis the Bastard of Burgundy, as I live. Nay, then;there is fighting a foot since he is out; a gallant leader, Gerard,rates his life no higher than a private soldier's, and a soldier's nohigher than a tomtit's; and that is the captain for me."
"And see Denys, the very mules with their great brass frontlets andtrappings seem proud to carry them; no wonder men itch to be soldiers;"and in the midst of this innocent admiration the troop came up withthem.
"Halt," cried a stentorian voice. The troop halted. The Bastard ofBurgundy bent his brow gloomily on Denys: "How now, arbalestrier, howcomes it thy face is turned southward, when every good hand and heart ishurrying northward?"
Denys replied respectfully that he was going on leave, after some yearsof service, to see his kindred at Remiremont.
"Good. But this not the time for't, the duchy is disturbed. Ho! bringthat dead soldier's mule to the front; and thou mount her and forwardwith us to Flanders."
"So please your highness," said Denys, firmly, "that may not be. My homeis close at hand. I have not seen it these three years and, above all, Ihave this poor youth in charge; whom I may not, cannot leave, till I seehim shipped for Rome."
"Dost bandy words with me?" said the chief, with amazement turning fastto wrath. "Art weary o' thy life? Let go the youth's hand, and into thesaddle without more idle words."
Denys made no reply: but he held Gerard's hand the tighter, and lookeddefiance.
At this the bastard roared, "Jarnac, dismount six of thy archers, andshoot me this whitelivered cur dead where he stands--for an example."
The young Count de Jarnac, second in command, gave the order, and themen dismounted to execute it.
"Strip him naked," said the bastard, in the cold tone of militarybusiness, "and put his arms and accoutrements on the spare mule. We'llmay be find some clown worthier to wear them."
Denys groaned aloud, "Am I to be shamed as well as slain?"
"Oh, nay! nay! nay!" cried Gerard, awaking from the stupor into whichthis thunderbolt of tyranny had thrown him. "He shall go with you on theinstant. I'd liever part with him for ever than see a hair of his dearhead harmed. Oh sir, oh, my lord, give a poor boy but a minute to bidhis only friend farewell! he will go with you. I swear he shall go withyou."
The stern leader nodded a cold contemptuous assent. "Thou, Jarnac, staywith them, and bring him on alive or dead.--Forward!" And he resumed hismarch, followed by all the band but the young count and six archers, oneof whom held the spare mule.
Denys and Gerard gazed at one another haggardly. Oh! what a look!
And after this mute interchange of anguish, they spoke hurriedly, forthe moments were flying by.
"Thou goest to Holland: thou knowest where she bides. Tell her all. Shewill be kind to thee for my sake."
"Oh, sorry tale that I shall carry her! For God's sake go back to the'Tete d'Or.' I am mad."
"Hush! Let me think: have I nought to say to thee, Denys? my head! myhead!"
"Ah! I have it. Make for the Rhine, Gerard! Strasbourg. 'Tis but a step.And down the current to Rotterdam. Margaret is there: I go thither. I'lltell her thou art coming. We shall all be together."
"My lads, haste ye, or you will get us into trouble," said the countfirmly, but not harshly now.
"Oh, sir, one moment! one little moment!" panted Gerard.
"Cursed be the land I was born in; cursed be the race of man; and hethat made them what they are," screamed Denys.
"Hush! Denys, hush! blaspheme not! oh, God, forgive him, he wots notwhat he says. Be patient, Denys,--be patient! though we meet no more onearth, let us meet in a better world, where no blasphemer may enter. Tomy heart, lost friend; for what are words now?" He held out his arms,and they locked one another in a close embrace. They kissed one anotheragain and again, speechless, and the tears rained down their cheeks. Andthe Count Jarnac looked on amazed, but the rougher soldiers, to whomcomrade was a sacred name, looked on with some pity in their hard faces.Then at a signal from Jarnac, with kind force and words of rudeconsolation, they almost lifted Denys on to the mule; and putting him inthe middle of them, spurred after their leader. And Gerard ran wildlyafter (for the lane turned), to see the very last of him; and the lastglimpse he caught, Denys was rocking to and fro on his mule, and tearinghis hair out. But at this sight something rose in Gerard's throat sohigh, so high, he could run no more nor breathe, but gasped, and leanedagainst the snow-clad hedge, seizing it, and choking piteously.
THE CONSTANT LOVER LAY SILENT ON THE SNOW]
The thorns ran into his hand.
* * * * *
After a bitter struggle he got his breath again: and now began to seehis own misfortune. Yet not all at once to realize it, so sudden andnumbing was the stroke. He staggered on, but scarce feeling or caringwhither he was going: and every now and then he stopped, and his armsfell and his head sank on his chest: and he stood motionless: then hesaid to himself, "Can this thing be? This must be a dream. 'Tis scarcefive minutes since we were so happy, walking handed, faring to Rometogether, and we admired them and their gay banners and helmets--ohhearts of hell!"
* * * * *
All nature seemed to stare now as lonely as himself. Not a creature insight. No colour but white. He, the ghost of his former self, wanderedalone among the ghosts of trees, and fields, and hedges. Desolate!desolate! desolate! All was desolate.
He knelt and gathered a little snow. "Nay, I dream not; for this issnow: cold as the world's heart. It is bloody, too: what may that mean?Fool! 'tis from thy hand. I mind not the wound. Ay, I see: thorns.Welcome! kindly foes: I felt ye not, ye ran not into my heart. Ye arenot cruel like men."
* * * * *
He had risen, and was dragging his leaden limbs along, when he heardhorses' feet and gay voices behind him. He turned with a joyful but wildhope that the
soldiers had relented and were bringing Denys back. Butno: it was a gay cavalcade. A gentleman of rank and his favourites invelvet and furs and feathers; and four or five armed retainers in buffjerkins.
They swept gaily by.
Gerard never looked at them after they were gone by: certain gay shadowshad come and passed: that was all. He was like one in a dream. But hewas rudely wakened: suddenly a voice in front of him cried harshly,"Stand and deliver!" and there were three of the gentleman's servants infront of him. They had ridden back to rob him.
"How, ye false knaves," said he quite calmly: "would ye shame your noblemaster? He will hang ye to the nearest tree:" and with these words hedrew his sword doggedly, and set his back to the hedge.
One of the men instantly levelled his petronel at him.
But another, less sanguinary, interposed. "Be not so hasty! And be notthou so mad! Look yonder!"
Gerard looked, and scarce a hundred yards off the nobleman and hisfriends had halted, and sat on their horses, looking at the lawless act,too proud to do their own dirty work, but not too proud to reap thefruit, and watch lest their agents should rob them of another man'smoney.
The milder servant then, a good-natured fellow, showed Gerard resistancewas vain; reminded him common thieves often took the life as well as thepurse, and assured him it cost a mint to be a gentleman; his master hadlost money at play overnight, and was going to visit his leman, and somust take money where he saw it.
"Therefore, good youth, consider that we rob not for ourselves, anddeliver us that fat purse at thy girdle without more ado, nor put us tothe pain of slitting thy throat and taking it all the same."
"This knave is right," said Gerard calmly, aloud but to himself. "Iought not to fling away my life; Margaret would be so sorry. Take thenthe poor man's purse to the rich man's pouch; and with it this; tellhim, I pray the Holy Trinity each coin in it may burn his hand, andfreeze his heart, and blast his soul for ever. Begone and leave me to mysorrow!" He flung them the purse.
They rode away muttering; for his words pricked them a little; a verylittle: and he staggered on, penniless now as well as friendless, tillhe came to the edge of a wood. Then, though his heart could hardly feelthis second blow, his judgment did; and he began to ask himself what wasthe use going further? He sat down on the hard road, and ran his nailsinto his hair and tried to think for the best; a task all the moredifficult that a strange drowsiness was stealing over him. Rome he couldnever reach without money. Denys had said "go to Strasbourg, and downthe Rhine home." He would obey Denys. But how get to Strasbourg withoutmoney?
Then suddenly seemed to ring in his ears--
"Gyf the world prove harsh and cold, Come back to the hedde of gold."
"And if I do I must go as her servant; I who am Margaret's. I ama-weary, a-weary. I will sleep, and dream all is as it was. Ah me, howhappy were we an hour agone, we little knew how happy. There is a house:the owner well to do. What if I told him my wrong, and prayed his aid toretrieve my purse, and so to Rhine? Fool! is he not a man, like therest? He would scorn me and trample me lower. Denys cursed the race ofmen. That will I never: but oh, I 'gin to loathe and dread them. Nay,here will I lie till sunset: then darkling creep into this rich man'sbarn, and take by stealth a draught of milk or a handful o' grain, tokeep body and soul together. God, who hath seen the rich rob me, willperadventure forgive me. They say 'tis ill sleeping on the snow. Deathsteals on such sleepers with muffled feet and honey breath. But what canI? I am a-weary, a-weary. Shall this be the wood where lie the wolvesyon old man spoke of? I must e'en trust them: they are not men; and I amso a-weary."
He crawled to the road-side, and stretched out his limbs on the snow,with a deep sigh.
"Ah tear not thine hair so! teareth my heart to see thee. "Mar--garet. Never see me more. Poor Mar--ga--ret."
And the too tender heart was still.
And the constant lover, and friend of antique mould, lay silent on thesnow; in peril from the weather, in peril from wild beasts, in perilfrom hunger, friendless and penniless, in a strange land, and not halfway to Rome.