CHAPTER 10. TENDER AND TRUE
'For I am now the Earlis son, And not a banished, man.'--The Nut-Brown Maid.
'O St. Andrew! St. Bride! Our Lady of Succour! St. Denys!--all the laveof you, that may be nearest in this fremd land,--come and aid him. Itis the Master of Angus, ye ken--the hope of his house. He'll build youchurches, gie ye siller cups and braw vestments gin ye'll bring himback. St. Andrew! St. Rule! St. Ninian!--you ken a Scots tongue! Stayhis blood,--open his een,--come to help ane that ever loved you and didyou honour!'
So wailed Ringan of the Raefoot, holding his master's head on his knees,and binding up as best he might an ugly thrust in the side, and a blowwhich had crushed the steel cap into the midst of the hair. When he sawhis master fall and the ladies captured, he had, with the better partof valour, rushed aside and hid himself in the thicket of thorns andhazels, where, being manifestly only a stray horseboy, no search wasmade for him. He rightly concluded that, dead or alive, his master mightthus be better served than by vainly struggling over his fallen body.
It seemed as though, in answer to his invocation, a tremor began to passthrough Douglas's frame, and as Ringan exclaimed, 'There! there!--helives! Sir, sir! Blessings on the saints! I was sure that a Frenchreiver's lance could never be the end of the Master,' George opened hiseyes.
'What is it?' he said faintly. 'Where are the ladies?'
'Heed not the leddies the noo, sir, but let me bind your head. That caphas crushed like an egg-shell, and has cut you worse than the sword.Bide still, sir, I say, if ye mean to do any gude another time!'
'The ladies--Ringan--'
'The loons rid aff wi' them, sir--up towards the hills yonder. Nay! butif ye winna thole to let me bind your wound, how d'ye think to win totheir aid, or ever to see bonnie Scotland again?'
George submitted to this reasoning; but, as his senses returned, askedif all the troop had gone.
'Na, sir; the ane with that knight who was at the tourney--a plaguelight on him--went aff with the leddies--up yonder; but they, as theycalled the escort--the Archers of the Guard, as they behoved to callthemselves--they rid aff by the way that we came by--the traitor loons!'
'Ah! it was black treachery. Follow the track of the ladies,Ringan;--heed not me.'
'Mickle gude that wad do, sir, if I left you bleeding here! Na, na; Imaun see you safely bestowed first before I meet with ony other. I'm theDouglas's man, no the Stewart's.'
'Then will I after them!' cried George of Angus, starting up; but hestaggered and had to catch at Ringan.
There was no water near; nothing to refresh or revive him had been left.Ringan looked about in anxiety and distress on the desolate scene--bareheath on one side, thicket, gradually rising into forest and mountain,on the other. Suddenly he gave a long whistle, and to his great joythere was a crackling among the bushes and he beheld the shaggy-facedpony on which he had ridden all the way from Yorkshire, and which hadno doubt eluded the robbers. There was a bundle at the saddle-bow, andafter a little coquetting the pony allowed itself to be caught, anda leathern bottle was produced from the bag, containing somethingexceedingly sour, but with an amount of strength in it which didsomething towards reviving the Master.
'I can sit the pony,' he said; 'let us after them.'
'Nae sic fulery,' said Ringan. 'I ken better what sorts a green woundlike yours, sir! Sit the pony ye may, but to be safely bestowed, ere Istir a foot after the leddies.'
George broke out into fierce language and angry commands, none of whichRingan heeded in the least.
'Hist:' he cried, 'there's some one on the road. Come into shelter,sir.'
He was half dragging, half supporting his master to the concealmentof the bushes, when he perceived that the new-comers were two friars,cowled, black gowned, corded, and barefooted.
'There will be help in them,' he muttered, placing his master with hisback against a tree; for the late contention had produced such freshexhaustion that it was plain the wounds were more serious than he hadthought at first.
The two friars, men with homely, weather-beaten, but simple good faces,came up, startled at seeing a wounded man on the way-side, and ready toproffer assistance.
Need like George Douglas's was of all languages, and besides, Ringanhad, among the exigencies of the journey, picked up something by whichhe could make himself moderately well understood. The brethren stoopedover the wounded man and examined his wounds. One of them produced someoil from a flask in his wallet, and though poor George's own shirt wasthe only linen available, they contrived to bandage both hurts far moreeffectually than Ringan could.
They asked whether this was the effect of a quarrel or the work ofrobbers.
'Routiers,' Ringan said. 'The ladies--we guarded them--they carried themoff--up there.'
'What ladies?--the Scottish princesses?' asked one of the friars; forthey had been at Nanci, and knew who had been assembled there; besidesthat, the Scot was known enough all over France for the nationality ofRingan and his master to have been perceived at once.
George understood this, and answered vehemently, 'I must follow them andsave them!'
'In good time, with the saints' blessing,' replied Brother Benignesoothingly, 'but healing must come first. We must have you to our poorhouse yonder, where you will be well tended.'
George was lifted to the pony's back, and supported in the saddle byRingan and one of the brethren. He had been too much dazed by the cuton the head to have any clear or consecutive notion as to what they weredoing with him, or what passed round him; and Ringan did his best toexplain the circumstances, and thought it expedient to explain that hismaster was 'Grand Seigneur' in his own country, and would amplyrepay whatever was done for him; the which Brother Gerard gave himto understand was of no consequence to the sons of St. Francis. Thebrothers had no doubt that the outrage was committed by the BalchenburgBaron, the ally of the ecorcheurs and routiers, the terrors of thecountry, in his impregnable castle. No doubt, they said, he meant todemand a heavy ransom from the good King and Dauphin. For the honourof Scotland, Ringan, though convinced that Hall had his share in thetreason, withheld that part of the story. To him, and still more to hismaster, the journey seemed endless, though in reality it was not morethan two miles before they arrived at a little oasis of wheat andorchards growing round a vine-clad building of reddish stone, with aspire rising in the midst.
Here the porter opened the gate in welcome. The history was volublytold, the brother-infirmarer was summoned, and the Master of Angus wasdeposited in a much softer bed than the good friars allowed themselves.There the infirmarer tended him in broken feverish sleep all night,Ringan lying on a pallet near, and starting up at every moan or murmur.But with early dawn, when the brethren were about to sing prime, the ladrose up, and between signs and words made them understand that he mustbe released, pointing towards the mountains, and comporting himself muchlike a dog who wanted to be let out.
Perceiving that he meant to follow the track of the ladies, the friarsnot only opened the doors to him, but gave him a piece of black barleybread, with which he shot off, like an arrow from a bow, towards theplace where the catastrophe had taken place.
George Douglas's mind wandered a good deal from the blow on his head,and it was not till two or three days had elapsed that he was ableclearly to understand what his follower had discovered. Almost with theinstinct of a Red Indian, Ringan had made his way. At first, indeed, thebushes had been sufficiently trampled for the track to be easy to find,but after the beech-trees with no underwood had been reached, he hadoften very slight indications to guide him. Where the halt had takenplace, however, by the brook-side, there were signs of trampling, andeven a few remnants of food; and after a long climb higher, he had comeon the marks of the fall of a horse, and picked up a piece of a tornveil, which he recognised at once as belonging to the Lady Joanna. Heinferred a struggle. What had they been doing to her?
Faithful Ringan had climbed on, and at length had come below the castle.He had been far too c
autious to show himself while light lasted, butavailing himself of the shelter of trees and of the projections, he hadpretty well reconnoitred the castle as it stood on its steep slopes ofturf, on the rounded summit of the hill, only scarped away on one side,whence probably the materials had been taken.
There could be no doubt that this was the prison of the princesses, andthe character of the Barons of Balchenburg was only too well known tothe good Franciscans.
'Soevi et feroces,' said the Prior to George, for Latin had turnedout to be the most available medium of communication. Spite of Scott'saverment in the mouth of George's grandson, Bell the Cat, that--
'Thanks to St Bothan, son of mine, Save Gawain, ne'er could pen a line,'
the Douglases were far too clever to go without education, and youngnobles who knew anything knew a little Latin. There was a consultationover what was to be done, and the Prior undertook to send one of hisbrethren into Nanci with Ringan, to explain the matter to King Rene, or,if he had left Nanci for Provence, to the governor left in charge. But afrontier baron like Balchenburg was a very serious difficulty to one soscrupulous in his relations with his neighbours as was good King Rene.
'A man of piety, peace, and learning,' said the Prior, 'and thereforedespised by lawless men, like a sheep among wolves, though happy are wein living under such a prince.'
'Then what's the use of him and all his raree shows,' demanded the Scot,'if he can neither hinder two peaceful maids from being carried off,nor will stir a finger to deliver them? Much should we heed borders andkings if it had been a Ridley or a Graeme who had laid hands on them.'
However, he consented to the Prior's proposal, and the incongruous pairset out together,--the sober-paced friar on the convent donkey, andRingan on his shaggy pony,--both looking to civilised eyes equally roughand unkempt. At the gates they heard that King Rene had the day beforeset forth on his way to Aix, which boded ill for them, since more mightbe hoped from the impulsive chivalry of the King than from the strictscrupulosity of a responsible governor.
But they had not gone far on their way across the Place de La Carriere,where the tournament had been held, before Ringan startled his companionwith a perfect howl, which had in it, however, an element of ecstasy,as he dashed towards a tall, bony figure in a blue cap, buff coat, andshepherd's plaid over one shoulder.
'Archie o' the Brake. Archie! Oh, ye're a sight for sair een! How cam'ye here?'
'Eh!' was the answer, equally astonished. 'Wha is it that cries on mehere? Eh! eh! 'Tis never Ringan of the Raefoot-sae braw and grand?'
For Ringan was a wonderful step before him in civilisation.
Queries--'How cam' ye here?' and 'Whar' is the Master?'--were rapidlyexchanged, while the friar looked on in amaze at the two wild-lookingmen, about whom other tall Scots, more or less well equipped, began togather, coming from a hostelry near at hand.
The Earl of Angus, as they told him, had been neither to have nor tohold when first his embassy to Dunbar came back, and his son was foundto be missing. He had been very near besieging the young King, untilBishop Kennedy had convinced him that no one of the Court had suspectedthe Master's presence, far less connived at his disappearance. The truthhad been suspected before long, though there was no certainty until theletter that George Douglas had at last vouchsafed to write had, afterspending a good deal of time on the road, at last reached Tantallon.Then the Earl had declared that, since his son had set out on thisfool's errand, he should be suitably furnished for the heir of Angus,and should play his part as became him in their sports at Nanci, whitherhis letter said he was bound, instead of figuring as a mere groom ofDrummond of Glenuskie, and still worse, in the train of a low-bornEnglishman like De la Pole.
So he had sent off ten lances, under a stout kinsman who had campaignedin France before--Sir Robert Douglas of Harside--with all theirfollowers, and full equipment, such as might befit the heir of a branchof the great House of the Bleeding Heart. But their voyage had not beenprosperous, and after riding from Flanders they had found the weddingover, and no one in the hostel having heard of the young Master ofAngus, nor even having distinguished Sir Patrick Drummoud, though therewas a vague idea that the Scottish king's sisters had been there.
Sir Robert Douglas had gone to have an interview with the governor leftin charge. Thus the separation of the party became known to him--how theDrummonds had gone to Paris, and the Scottish ladies had set forth forChalons; but there was nothing to show with whom the Master had gone.No sooner, then, had he come forth than half his men were round himshouting that here was Ringan of the Raefoot, that the Master had beenfoully betrayed, and that he was lying sair wounded at a Priory not faroff.
Ringan, a perfectly happy man among those who not only had Scotstongues, but the Bleeding Heart on shield and breast, was brought upto him and told of the attack and capture of the princesses, and of theMaster's wounds.
Sir Robert, after many imprecations, turned back to the governor, whoheard the story in a far more complete form than if it had been relatedto him by Ringan and the friar.
But his hands were tied till he could communicate with King Rene, forborder warfare was strictly forbidden, and unfortunately Duke Sigismundhad left Nanci some days before for Luxembourg to meet the Duke ofBurgundy.
However, just as George Douglas had persuaded the infirmarer to let himput on his clothes, there had been a clanging and jangling in the outercourt, and the Lion and Eagle banner was visible. Duke Sigismund haddrawn up there to water the horses, and to partake of any hospitalitythe Prior might offer him.
The first civilities were passing between them, when a tall figure,his red hair crossed by a bandage, his ruddy face paled, his stepsfaltering, came stumbling forward to the porch, crying, in his wonderfuldialect between Latin and French, 'Sire, Domine Dux! Justitia! Youloved the Lady Eleanor. Free her! They are prisoners to latroni--unroutier--sceleratissimo--reiver--Balchenburg!'
Sigismund, ponderous and not very rapid, opened wide his big blue eyes,while the Prior explained in French, 'It is even so, beau sire. Thispoor man-at-arms was found bleeding on the way-side by our brethren,having been left for dead by the robbers of Balchenburg, who, it seems,descended on the ladies, dispersed their escort, and carried them off tothe castle.'
Sigismund made some tremendously emphatic exclamation in German, andturned upon Douglas to interrogate him. They had very little of commonlanguage, but Sigismund knew French, though he hated it, and was notdevoid of Latin, so that the narrative was made tolerably clear to him,and he had no doubts or scruples as to instantly calling the latronesto account, and releasing the ladies. He paced up and down theguest-chamber, his spurs clattering against the stone pavement, growlingimprecations in guttural German, now and then tugging at his long fairhair as he pictured Eleanor in the miscreants' power, putting queries toGeorge, more than could be understood or answered, and halting at dooror window to shout orders to his knights to be ready at once forthe attack. George was absolutely determined that, whatever his owncondition, he would not be left behind, though he could only go uponRingan's pony, and was evidently in Sigismund's opinion only a faithfulgroom.
It was hard to say whether he was relieved or not when there wasevidently a vehement altercation in German between the Duke and a tough,grizzled old knight, the upshot of which turned out to be that theRitter Gebhardt von Fuchstein absolutely refused to proceed throughthose pine and beech forests so late in the day; since it would be onlytoo easy to lose the way, and there might be ambuscades or the like ifBalchenburg and his crew were on the watch, and there was no doubt thatthey were allied with all the rentiers in the country.
Sigismund raged, but he was in some degree under the dominion of hisprudent old Marskalk, and had to submit, while George knew that anothernight would further restore him, and would besides bring back hisattendant.
The next hour brought more than he had expected. Again there was aclattering of hoofs, a few words with the porter, and to the utteramazement of the Prior, as
well as of Duke Sigismund, who had just beenserved with a meal of Franciscan diet, a knight in full armour, with thecrowned heart on his breast, dashed into the hall, threw a hasty bow tothe Prior, and throwing his arms round the wounded man-at-arms, criedaloud, 'Geordie--the Master--ye daft callant! See what you have broughtyourself to! What would the Yerl your father say?'
'I trow that I have been striving to do my devoir to my liege'ssisters,' answered George. 'How does my father?--and my mother? Makeyour obeisance to the Duke of the Tirol, Rab. Ye can knap the Frenchwith him better than I. Now I can go with him as becomes a yerl's son,for the freedom of the lady!'
Sir Robert, a veteran Scot, who knew the French world well, was soonexplaining matters to Duke Sigismund, who presently advanced to the heirof Angus, wrung his hand, and gave him to understand that he acceptedhim as a comrade in their doughty enterprise, and honoured hisproceeding as a piece of knight-errantry. He was free from any questionwhether George was to be esteemed a rival by hearing it was the LadyJoanna for whose sake he thus adventured himself, whereas it was not herbeauty, but her sister's intellect that had won the heart of Sigismund.Perhaps Sir Robert somewhat magnified the grandeur of the house ofDouglas, for Sigismund seemed to view the young man as an equal, whichhe was not, as the Hapsburgs of Alsace and the Tirol were sovereignprinces; but, on the other hand, George could count princesses amonghis ancestresses, and only Jean's personal ambition had counted his as amesalliance.
It was determined to advance upon the Castle of Balchenburg the nextmorning, the ten Scottish lances being really forty men, making theDouglas's troop not much inferior to the Alsatian.
A night's rest greatly restored George, and equipments had been broughtfor him, which made him no longer appear only the man-at-arms, but thegallant young nobleman, though not yet entitled to the Golden Spurs.
Ringan served as their guide up the long hills, through the woods, upsteep slippery slopes, where it became expedient to leave behind thebig heavy war-horses under a guard, while the rest pushed forward, theMaster of Angus's long legs nearly touching the ground, as, not to wastehis strength, he was mounted on Ringan's sure-footed pony, which seemedat home among mountains. Sigismund himself, and the Tirolese among hisfollowers, were chamois-hunters and used enough to climbing, and thus atlength they found themselves at the foot of the green rounded slopesof the talchen or ballon, crowned by the fortress with its eightcorner-turrets and the broader keep.
Were Elleen and Jean looking out--when the Alsatian trumpeter cameforward in full array, and blew three sonorous blasts, echoing amongthe mountains, and doubtless bringing hope to the prisoners? The ruggedwalls of the castle had, however, an imperturbable look, and there wasnothing responsive at the gateway.
A pursuivant then stood forth--for Sigismund had gone in full state tohis intended wooing at Nanci--and called upon the Baron of Balchenburgto open his gates to his liege lord the Duke of Alsace.
On this a wicket was opened in the gate; but the answer, in a hoarseshout, was that the Baron of Balchenburg owned allegiance only, underthe Emperor Frederick, to King Rene, Duke of Lorraine.
What hot words were thereupon spoken between Sigismund, Gebhardt,and the two Douglases it scarcely needs to tell; but, looking at thestrength of the castle, it was agreed that it would be wiser to couplewith the second summons an assurance that, though Duke Sigismund was thelawful lord of the mountain, and entrance was denied at the peril of theBaron, yet he would remit his first wrath, provided the royal ladies,foully and unjustly detained there in captivity, were instantlydelivered up in all safety.
To this the answer came back, with a sound of derisive mockery--One wasthe intended wife of Baron Rudiger; the other should be delivered up tothe Duke upon ransom according to her quality.
'The ransom I will pay,' roared Sigismund in German, 'shall be by theaxe and cord!'
The while George Douglas gnashed his teeth with rage when the reply asto Jean had been translated to him. The Duke hurled his fierce defianceat the castle. It should be levelled with the ground, and the robbersshould suffer by cord, wheel, and axe.
But what was the use of threats against men within six or eight feetevery way of stone wall, with a steep slippery slope leading up to it?Heavily armed horsemen were of no avail against it. Even if there werenothing but old women inside, there was no means of making an entrance.Sigismund possessed three rusty cannon, made of bars of iron hoopedtogether; but they were no nearer than Strasburg, and if they had beenat hand, there was no getting them within distance of those walls.
There was nothing for it but to blockade the castle while sendingafter King Rene for assistance and authority. The worst of it was, thatstarving the garrison would be starving the captives; and likewise, sofar up on the mountain, a troop of eighty or ninety men and horseswere as liable to lack of provisions as could be the besieged garrison.Villages were distant, and transport not easy to find. Money was neverabundant with Duke Sigismund, and had nearly all been spent on theentertainments at Nanci; nor could he make levies as lord of thecountry-folk, since the more accessible were not Alsatian, butLorrainers, and to exasperate their masters by raids would bring freshdanger. Indeed, the two nearest castles were on Lorraine territory;their masters had not a much better reputation than the Balchenburgs,and, with the temptation of war-horses and men in their most holidayequipment, were only too likely to interpret Sigismund's attack as aninvasion of their dukedom, and to fall in strength upon the party.
All this Gebhardt represented in strong colours, recommending that thisuntenable position should not be maintained.
Sigismund swore that nothing should induce him to abandon the unhappyladies.
'Nay, my Lord Duke, it is only to retreat till King Rene sends hisforces, and mayhap the French Dauphin.'
'To retreat would be to prolong their misery. Nay, the felons wouldthink them deserted, and work their will. Out upon such craven counsel!'
'The captive ladies may be secured from an injury if your lordship holdsa parley, demands the amount of ransom, and, without pledging yourself,undertakes to consult the Dauphin and their other kinsmen on thematter.'
'Detained here in I know not what misery, exposed to insults endless?Never, Gebhardt! I marvel that you can make such proposals to any beltedknight!'
Gebhardt grumbled out, 'Rather to a demented lover! The Lord Duke willsing another tune ere long.'
Certainly it looked serious the next day when Sir Robert Douglas had hadthe greatest difficulty in hindering a hand-to-hand fight between theScots and Alsatians for a strip of meadow land for pasture for theirhorses; when a few loaves of black bread were all that could beobtained from one village, and in another there had been a fray with thepeasants, resulting in blows by way of payment for a lean cow and calfand four sheep. The Tirolese laid the blame on the Scots, the Scotsupon the Tirolese; and though disputes between his Tirolese and Alsatianfollowers had been the constant trouble of Sigismund at Nanci, theynow joined in making common cause against the Scots, so that Gebhardtstrongly advised that these should be withdrawn to Nanci for thepresent, the which advice George Douglas hotly resented. He had as gooda claim to watch the castle as the Duke. He was not going to desert hisKing's sisters, far less the lady he had followed from Scotland. If anyone was to be ordered off, it should be the fat lazy Alsatians, who weregood for nothing but to ride big Flemish horses, and were useless on amountain.
Gebhardt and Robert Douglas, both experienced men of the world, found itone of their difficulties to keep the peace between their young lords;and each day was likely to render it more difficult. They began torepresent that it could be made a condition that the leaders should bepermitted to see the ladies and ascertain whether they were treated withcourtesy; and there was a certain inclination on Sigismund's part, whenhe was driven hard by his embarrassments, to allow this to be proposed.
The very notion of coming to any terms made Geordie furious. If thecraven Dutchman chose to sneak off and go in search of a ransom,forsooth, he would lie at the
foot of the castle till he had burrowedthrough the walls or found a way over the battlements.
'Ay,' said Douglas of Harside drily, 'or till the Baron sticks you inthe thrapple, or his next neighbour throws you into his dungeon.'
In the meantime the captives themselves were suffering, as may well bebelieved, agonies of suspense. Their loophole did not look out towardsthe gateway, but they heard the peals of the trumpet, started up withjoy, and thought their deliverance was come. Eleanor threw herself onher knees; Lady Lindsay began to collect their properties; Jean made arush for the stair leading to the top of the turret, but she found herway barred by one of the few men-at-arms, who held his pike towards herin a menacing manner.
She tried to gaze from the window, but it told her nothing, except thata certain murmur of voices broke upon the silence of the woods. Nothingmore befell them. They eagerly interrogated Barbe.
'Ah yes, lady birds!' she said, 'there is a gay company without, all inglittering harness, asking for you, but my Lords know 'tis like a poorfrog smelling at a walnut, for any knight of them all to try to make wayinto this castle!'
'Who are they? For pity's sake, tell us, dear Barbe,' entreated Eleanor.
'They say it is the Duke himself; but he has never durst meddle with myLords before. All but the Hawk's tower is in Lorraine, and my Lordcan bring a storm about his ears if he lifts a finger against us. Amessenger would soon bring Banget and Steintour upon him. But never youfear, fair ladies, you have friends, and he will come to terms,' saidgood old Barbe, divided between pity for her guests and loyalty to hermasters.
'If it is the Duke, he will free you, Elleen,' said Jean weeping; 'hewill not care for me!'
'Jeanie, Jeanie, could you think I would be set free without you?'
'You might not be able to help yourself. 'Tis you that the Germanwants.'
'Never shall he have me if he be such a recreant, mansworn fellow as toleave my sister to the reiver. Never!'
'Ah! if poor Geordie were there, he would have moved heaven and earth tosave me; but there is none to heed me now,' and Jean fell into a passionof weeping.
When they had to go down to supper, the younger Baron received them withthe news--'So, ladies, the Duke has been shouting his threats at us, butthis castle is too hard a nut for the like of him.'
'I have seen others crack their teeth against it,' said his father; andthey both laughed, a hoarse derisive laugh.
The ladies vouchsafed not a word till they were allowed to retire totheir chamber.
They listened in the morning for the sounds of an assault, butnone came; there was absolutely nothing but an occasional hum of voicesand clank of armour. When summoned to the mid-day meal, it was scanty.
'Ay,' said the elder Baron, we shall have to live hard for a day or two,but those outside will live harder.'
'Till they fall out and cut one another's throats,' said his son.'Fasting will not mend the temper of Hans of Schlingen and Michel au Becrouge.'
'Or till Banget descends on him for meddling on Lorraine ground,' addedold Balchenburg. 'Eat, lady,' he added to Jean; 'your meals are not solarge that they will make much odds to our stores. We have corn and beerenough to starve out those greedy knaves outside!'
Poor Jean was nearly out of her senses with distress and uncertainty,and being still weak, was less able to endure. She burst into violenthysterical weeping, and had to be helped up to her own room, where shesometimes lay on her bed; sometimes raged up and down the room, heapingviolent words on the head of the tardy cowardly German; sometimestalking of loosing Skywing to show they were in the castle and cognisantof what was going on; but it was not certain that Skywing, with the lionrampant on his hood, would fly down to the besiegers, so that she wouldonly be lost.
Eleanor, by the very need of soothing her sister, was enabled to be moretranquil. Besides, there was pleasure in the knowledge that Sigismundhad come after her, and there was imagination enough in her nature totrust to the true knight daring any amount of dragons in his lady'scause. And the lady always had to be patient.