CHAPTER V
In which the Hero makes his first Appearance & is at Once locked up.
FATHER ANSELM SIR GODFREY]
With the respect that was due to holy men, Sir Godfrey removed hishelmet, and stood waiting in a decent attitude of attention to thehymn, although he did not understand a single word of it. The longdeliberate Latin words rolled out very grand to his ear, and, to tellyou the truth, it is just as well his scholarship was faulty, for thisis the English of those same words:
"It is my intention To die in a tavern, With wine in the neighbourhood, Close by my thirsty mouth; That angels in chorus May sing, when they reach me,-- 'Let Bacchus be merciful Unto this wine-bibber.'"
But so devoutly did the monks dwell upon the syllables, so earnestlywere the arms of each one folded against his breast, that you wouldnever have suspected any unclerical sentiments were being expressed.The proximity of so many petticoats and kirtles caused considerablerestlessness to Hubert; but he felt the burning eye of the GrandMarshal fixed upon him, and sang away with all his might.
Sir Godfrey began to grow impatient.
"Hem!" he said, moving his foot slightly.
This proceeding, however, was without result. The pious chantcontinued to resound, and the monks paid not the least attention totheir visitors, but stood up together in a double line, vociferatingLatin with as much zest as ever.
"Mort d'aieul!" growled Sir Godfrey, shifting his other foot, and notso gingerly this second time.
By chance the singing stopped upon the same instant, so that theBaron's remark and the noise his foot had made sounded all over theroom. This disconcerted him; for he felt his standing with the Churchto be weak, and he rolled his eyes from one side to the other,watching for any effect his disturbance might have made. But, with thebreeding of a true man of the world, the Grand Marshal merelyobserved, "Benedicite, my son!"
"Good-morning, Father," returned Sir Godfrey.
"And what would you with me?" pursued the so-called Father Anselm."Speak, my son."
"Well, the fact is----" the Baron began, marching forward; but heencountered the eye of the Abbot, where shone a cold surprise at thisover-familiar fashion of speech; so he checked himself, and, in asrestrained a voice as he could command, told his story. How hisdaughter had determined to meet the Dragon, and so save Wantley; hownothing that a parent could say had influenced her intentions in theleast; and now he placed the entire matter in the hands of the Church.
"Which would have been more becoming if you had done it at the first,"said Father Anselm, reprovingly. Then he turned to Miss Elaine, whoall this while had been looking out of the window with the utmostindifference.
"How is this, my daughter?" he said gravely, in his deep voice.
"Oh, the dear blessed man!" whispered Mistletoe, admiringly, toherself.
"It is as you hear, Father," said Miss Elaine, keeping her eyes away.
"And why do you think that such a peril upon your part would do awaywith this Dragon?"
"Says not the legend so?" she replied.
"And what may the legend be, my daughter?"
With some surprise that so well informed a person as Father Anselmshould be ignorant of this prominent topic of the day, Sir Godfreyhere broke in and narrated the legend to him with many vigourouscomments.
"Ah, yes," said the Father, smiling gently when the story was done; "Ido now remember that some such child's tale was in the mouths of thecommon folk once; but methought the nonsense was dead long since."
"The nonsense, Father!" exclaimed Elaine.
"Of a surety, my child. Dost suppose that Holy Church were so unjustas to visit the sins of thy knightly relatives upon the head of anyweak woman, who is not in the order of creation designed for personalconflict with men, let alone dragons?"
"Bravo, Dragon!" thought Hubert, as he listened to this wily talk ofhis chief.
But the words "weak woman" had touched the pride of Miss Elaine. "Iknow nothing of weak women," she said, very stately; "but I do knowthat I am strong enough to meet this Dragon, and, moreover, firmlyintend to do so this very night."
"Peace, my daughter," said the monk; "and listen to the voice of thymother the Church speaking through the humblest of her servants. Thislegend of thine holds not a single grain of truth. 'Tis a conceit ofthe common herd, set afoot by some ingenious fellow who may havethought he was doing a great thing in devising such fantastic mixture.True it is that the Monster is a visitation to punish the impiety ofcertain members of thy family. True it is that he will not depart tilla member of that family perform a certain act. But it is to be a maledescendant."
Now Sir Godfrey's boy Roland was being instructed in knightly artsand conduct away from home.
"Who told you that?" inquired the Baron, as the thought of hisprecious wine-cellar came into his head.
"On last Christmas Eve I had a vision," replied Father Anselm. "Thygrandfather, the brave youth who by journeying to the Holy War avertedthis curse until thine own conduct caused it to descend upon us,appeared to me in shining armour. 'Anselm,' he said, and raised hisright arm, 'the Dragon is a grievous burden on the people. I can seethat from where I am. Now, Anselm, when the fitting hour shall come,and my great-grandson's years be mature enough to have made a man ofhim, let him go to the next Holy War that is proclaimed, and on thevery night of his departure the curse will be removed and our familyforgiven. More than this, Anselm, if any male descendant from medirect shall at any time attend a Crusade when it is declared, thecountry will be free forever.' So saying, he dissolved out of my sightin a silver gleaming mist." Here Father Anselm paused, and from underhis hood watched with a trifle of anxiety the effect of his speech.
There was a short silence, and then Sir Godfrey said, "Am I tounderstand this thing hangs on the event of another Crusade?"
The Abbot bowed.
"Meanwhile, till that event happen, the Dragon can rage unchecked?"
The Abbot bowed again.
"Will there be another Crusade along pretty soon?" Sir Godfreypursued.
"These things lie not in human knowledge," replied Father Anselm. Helittle dreamed what news the morrow's sun would see.
"Oh, my sheep!" groaned many a poor farmer.
"Oh, my Burgundy!" groaned Sir Godfrey.
"In that case," exclaimed Elaine, her cheeks pink with excitement, "Ishall try the virtue of the legend, at any rate."
"Most impious, my daughter, most impious will such conduct be in thesight of Mother Church," said Father Anselm.
"Hear me, all people!" shouted Sir Godfrey, foreseeing that beforethe next Crusade came every drop of wine in his cellar would beswallowed by the Dragon; "hear me proclaim and solemnly promise:legend true or legend false, my daughter shall not face this risk. Butif her heart go with it, her hand shall be given to that man who bynight or light brings me this Dragon, alive or dead!"
Geoffrey replyeth with deplorable Flippancy to FatherAnselm.]
"A useless promise, Sir Godfrey!" said Father Anselm, shrugging hisshoulders. "We dare not discredit the word of thy respectedgrandsire."
"My respected grandsire be----"
"_What?_" said the Abbot.
"Became a credit to his family," said the Baron, quite mildly; "and Islight no word of his. But he did not contradict this legend in thevision, I think."
"No, he did not, papa," Miss Elaine put in. "He only mentionedanother way of getting rid of this horrible Dragon. Now, papa,whatever you may say about--about my heart and hand," she continuedfirmly, "I am going to meet the Monster alone myself, to-night."
"That you shall not," said Sir Godfrey.
"A hundred times no!" said a new voice from the crowd. "I will meethim myself!"
All turned and saw a knight pushing his way through the people.
"Who are you?" inquired the Baron.
The stranger bowed haughtily; and Elaine watched him remove hishelmet, and reveal
underneath it the countenance of a young man whoturned to her, and----
Why, what's this, Elaine? Why does everything seem to swim and growmisty as his eye meets yours? And why does he look at you so, anddeeply flush to the very rim of his curly hair? And as his glancegrows steadier and more intent upon your eyes that keep stealing overat him, can you imagine why his hand trembles on the hilt of hissword? Don't you remember what the legend said?
"Who are you?" the Baron repeated, impatiently.
"I am Geoffrey, son of Bertram of Poictiers," answered the young man.
"And what," asked Father Anselm, with a certain irony in his voice,"does Geoffrey, son of Bertram of Poictiers, so far away from his papain this inclement weather?"
The knight surveyed the monk for a moment, and then said, "As thou artnot my particular Father Confessor, stick to those matters whichconcern thee."
This reply did not please any man present, for it seemed to savour ofdisrespect. But Elaine lost no chance of watching the youth, who nowstood alone in the middle of the hall. Sir Francis detected this, andsmiled with a sly smile.
"Will some person inquire of this polite young man," he said, "what hewishes with us?"
"Show me where this Dragon of Wantley comes," said Geoffrey, "for Iintend to slay him to-night."
"Indeed, sir," fluttered Elaine, stepping towards him a little, "Ihope--that is, I beg you'll do no such dangerous thing as that for mysake."
"For your sake?" Father Anselm broke in. "For your sake? And why so?What should Elaine, daughter of Sir Godfrey Disseisin, care for thecarcase of Geoffrey, son of Bertram of Poictiers?"
But Elaine, finding nothing to answer, turned rosy pink instead.
"That rules you out!" exclaimed the Father, in triumph. "Your legenddemands a maid who never has cared for any man."
"Pooh!" said Geoffrey, "leave it to me."
"Seize him!" shouted Sir Godfrey in a rage. "He had ruled out mydaughter." Consistency had never been one of the Baron's strongpoints.
"Seize him!" said Father Anselm. "He outrages Mother Church."
The vassals closed up behind young Geoffrey, who was pinioned in asecond. He struggled with them till the veins stood out in hisforehead in blue knots; but, after all, one young man of twenty is notmuch among a band of stout yeomen; and they all fell in a heap on thefloor, pulling and tugging at Geoffrey, who had blacked several eyes,and done in a general way as much damage as he possibly could underthe circumstances.
But Elaine noticed one singular occurrence. Not a monk had moved toseize the young man, except one, who rushed forward, and was stopped,as though struck to stone, by Father Anselm's saying to him in aterrible undertone, "Hubert!"
Simply that word, spoken quickly; but not before this Hubert hadbrushed against her so that she was aware that there was somethingvery hard and metallic underneath his gray gown. She betrayed no signof knowledge or surprise on her face, however, but affected to beabsorbed wholly in the fortunes of young Geoffrey, whom she sawcollared and summarily put into a cage-like prison whose front wasthick iron bars, and whose depth was in the vast outer wall of theMonastery, with a little window at the rear, covered with snow. Thespring-lock of the gate shut upon him.
"And now," said Father Anselm, as the Monastery bell sounded oncemore, "if our guests will follow us, the mid-day meal awaits us below.We will deal with this hot-head later," he added, pointing to theprisoner.
So they slowly went out, leaving Geoffrey alone with his thoughts.
ELAINE]