CHAPTER V
WHO IS YOLANDA?
Next morning Yolanda came to breakfast smiling, bedimpled, and sparklingas a sunlit mountain brook. Max, who was gloomy, took her sprightlinessamiss, thinking, no doubt, that her life also ought to be darkened bythe cloud that he thought was over-shadowing him. There was no doubt inmy mind that Yolanda had inspired a deep and lasting passion in Max,though he was, I hoped, mistaken in the belief that it would darken hislife. But I would not give a kreutzer for a young fellow who does notfeel that life is worthless without his lady-love.
Yolanda did not take kindly to clouds of any sort, and she soonscattered those that Max had conjured up. After we had resumed ourjourney Max fell back to ride with her.
"Sir Max," she said, "if you allow yourself to become The KnightDoleful, I will not only cease having speech with you, but I willlaugh at you."
The latter she did then and there. This from a burgher girl of Peronneto a prince of the House of Hapsburg! The good duke and duchess wouldhave swooned with horror had they known of it. Max was inclined to beangry, but, unfortunately for his ill-humor, he caught a glimpse of herface, and he, too, laughed.
"I fear I am a great fool," he said. Yolanda did not contradict him. Shesimply shrugged her shoulders as if to say, "That unfortunate conditionis apt, at times, to overtake the best of men."
Soon our little cavalcade came together, and we rode, laughing, and alltalking at once, for a league or more.
Our road had parted from the river at one of its great bends, and for anhour we had been slowly climbing a long hill. When we reached the top,we unsaddled for dinner in the shade of a tree by the wayside. A hundredyards from the road was a dense copse of undergrowth and bushes on theedge of the forest. Off to the east flowed the majestic Rhine, a leaguedistant, and to the north ran the road like a white ribbon, stretchingdownhill to the valley and up again to the top of another hill, distantperhaps a half-league.
While we were eating dinner, a cloud of dust arose from the hilltopnorth of us, and immediately began descending in our direction. Atintervals, in the midst of the dust-cloud, we caught glimpses of men onhorseback riding at full gallop. This unwelcome sight brought our dinnerto an end. I at once ordered the sumpter mules taken to the copse onthe forest's edge, and directed every man to look to his arms and armor.I asked Twonette and Yolanda to go with the mules, and Yolandabecame angry.
"_I_ go with the mules? Sir Karl, you forget yourself," cried the younglady, drawing herself up with the dignity of a princess royal. Twonetteran as rapidly as her feet could take her to seek refuge with the mules,but Yolanda, with flashing eyes, declared:
"I will remain here."
I felt that an apology was due to this burgher girl.
"I will gladly apologize later, Fraeulein, but now I have only time tobeg that you will conceal yourself. These men probably are robbers. Ifthey see you, we shall be compelled to fight them, however great theirnumbers. If we find their force too large for us, we may easily ransomthe mules and their packs, but we could make no terms for you. If theyare Black Riders, they will prefer a little gold to a great deal ofsilk, but they will prefer you and Fraeulein Twonette to a great dealof gold."
"I would not pay them one piece of gold," cried Yolanda, defiantly."Give me an arquebuse. I will help you fight."
The brave little heroine astonished me.
"Would you prefer that Max or your good uncle and perhaps some of ourpoor mule-leaders should be killed by these pigstickers," I asked, "orwould you compound with them in some reasonable way? Shall wefight them?"
"No, no," she answered, "wise bravery is better. I suppose I shall learnthe lesson some day."
While the troop of horsemen were under the crest of the hill, Yolandaran across the open to a place of concealment beside Twonette. Hardlywas she hidden when the dust-cloud rose from the brink of the hill, andfive men, well though roughly armed, galloped up to us and drew theirhorses back upon their haunches.
"What have we here?" demanded the captain, a huge German. Their grimyarmor and bearded faces besmeared with black marked them as BlackRiders. I was overjoyed to see that they numbered but five.
"What is that to you?" I asked, putting on a bold front, though I fearedour mule-leaders would make but a sorry fight should we come to blows.
"That depends on what you have," responded our swart friend, coolly."Whatever you have, so much it is to us."
"What will you take in gold, my good man, and let us go our way in peacewith our cargo of silks?" asked Castleman.
"By your leave, friend," said I, interrupting the negotiations, "I amin command when fighting is to be done. Let me settle with this fellow."
"Settle now, if you are so keen," cried the big German, drawing hissword and spurring his horse upon me. I could not have withstood theunexpected onrush, and certainly would have met with hard blows orworse, had not Max come to my rescue. I hurriedly stepped back, and theGerman, in following me, rode near a large stone by the roadside. Hehad, doubtless, passed the stone many times in his travels up and downthe road, but the thought probably had never occurred to him that itwould be the cause of his death. The most potential facts in our livesare usually too insignificant to attract attention.
When the German charged me, Max sprang upon the stone and dealt theswart ruffian a blow such as no man may survive. Max's great battle-axecrushed the Black Eider's helmet as if it were an egg-shell, and thecaptain of our foes fell backward, hanging by his stirrups. One of oursquires shot one of the robbers, and the remaining three took flight.Max caught the captain's horse, and coolly extricated the dead man'sfeet from the stirrups. Then he thrust the body to the roadside with theindifference of a man whose life has been spent in slaughter. Among hismany inheritances, Max probably had taken this indifference, togetherwith his instinctive love of battle. He was not quarrelsome, but hetook to a fight as naturally as a duck takes to water.
When the robbers had left, Yolanda came running from her hiding-place.She was not frightened; she was aglow with excitement. She, too, musthave inherited the love of battle. Twonette was trembling with fear.
"Ah, Sir Max, it was beautifully done," said Yolanda. "You sprang uponthe rock with the quickness of a panther, and the blow was dealt withthe strength of a lion. I saw it all. When your battle-axe rose abovethe robber's head, death was written on the steel. It was beautiful tosee you kill him, Sir Max. Strength is always beautiful in the eyes of awoman, but it is doubly so when used in her defence and linked with'wise bravery.' I thank you, Sir Karl, for teaching me that word. SirMax, I--I cannot thank you now."
She stopped speaking and covered her face with her hands. In a momentshe partly recovered composure and smiled her gratitude through a littleshower of tears. Max was, of course, aglow with pleasure at Yolanda'spraise, but he bore his honors meekly. He did not look upon histremendous feat of arms as of much importance.
Fearing the return of the Schwartreiter with reenforcements, we lost notime in resuming our journey, Max and Yolanda quickly finished theirdinner, but Castleman, Twonette, and myself did not care to eat.
Within ten minutes after Max had killed the captain of the Black Riderswe were on our road travelling downhill, very joyful in our victory andvery proud of our knight, Sir Max. We left the dead men by the roadside,but took with us two fine horses as compensation for our trouble. Thecaptain's great charger Max appropriated for his own. He will appearagain in this chronicle.
We rode silently but joyfully. Twonette slowly recovered from herfright, and the pink crept back to her cheeks. The pink had not leftYolanda's cheeks, nor had her nerves been disturbed by the adventures ofthe morning. Max tried hard to suppress his exuberance of spirit, andYolanda laved him in the sunshine of her smiles.
Within three hours we were safely housed at a village by the Rhine.Castleman, finding me alone, said:--
"You, Sir Karl, and Sir Max little know the value of the friend you havemade this day."
"I thank you, good Castleman," I answered
, hardly liking so great an airof condescension on the part of a burgher. An afterthought suggestedthat perhaps Castleman had not referred to himself as the friend we hadmade. Strange thoughts and speculations had of late been swarming in mymind until they had almost taken the form of a refrain, "Who isYolanda?" Though the question repeated itself constantly by day and bynight, I received no whisper of an answer.
We travelled slowly, and it was not until the second day after ourconflict with the Black Riders that we found ourselves near Strasburg. Aleague from the city gates we met Raoul de Rose, a herald of the Duke ofBurgundy. Yolanda recognized his banner at a distance and hastily veiledherself. Twonette remained unveiled.
We halted, and De Rose, who was travelling alone, safe under a herald'sprivileges, drew rein beside Castleman and me, who had been riding inadvance of our cavalcade. While Castleman was talking to De Rose,Yolanda and Twonette rode forward, passing on that side of the highwaywhich left Castleman and me between them and the herald.
"Ah, good Castleman," said De Rose, "you are far from home thesetroublous times."
"Your words imply bad news, monsieur," returned Castleman. "I havealready heard hints of trouble, though all was quiet when Ileft Peronne."
"When did you leave?" asked the herald.
"More than two months ago," answered Castleman.
"With our rapidly moving duke, two months is ample time to make a dealof trouble, to gain victories, and to compel peace among hisquarrelsome neighbors," answered De Rose. "It is publicly known that Icarry defiance to the Swiss. They cannot comply with Burgundy's terms,and war will surely follow. Our duke will teach these Swiss sheep tostop bleating, and when this war is finished, the dominion of Burgundywill include the Alps. Duke Charles will have fresh ice for his dinnerevery day--ice from the mountain tops."
"That is all he will get from the barren Swiss land, I fear," remarkedCastleman.
"But if he wants it?" answered De Rose, shrugging his shoulders.
"Yes," returned Castleman, "if the duke wants it, God give it him; but Iam sorry to see war with so peaceful a people as the Swiss."
"There are many persons in Burgundy foolish enough to agree with you,"answered De Rose, laughingly, "but for my part, the will of my masteris my will."
"Amen!" said the cautious burgher.
De Rose smiled, and said:--
"There is but one will in Burgundy, and that will be done."
"Where is the duke?" asked Castleman.
"He is at home in Ghent," answered the herald.
"Is he to remain there?" asked the burgher, displaying a suddeninterest.
"I believe he goes soon to Peronne to look after his affairs, on theFrench border, and to see the duchess and the princess before leavingfor Switzerland. It is also publicly known that the duke, while atPeronne, intends to arrange for the immediate marriage of the princessto the Dauphin. He wishes to tie the hands of King Louis before makingwar elsewhere, and he is going to Peronne to cause this marriage to becelebrated before he leaves Burgundy."
"Sacred God!" exclaimed the usually phlegmatic burgher. "We must hastenhome. Farewell, Monsieur de Rose. Your news indeed is bad--your newsof war."
Castleman urged "Last Week" to an unwonted pace, and drew rein besideYolanda. I followed slowly, and unintentionally overhead him say:--
"Your father will soon be in Peronne. The duke leaves Ghent within a dayor two."
"Holy Virgin!" cried Yolanda, excitedly. "We must make all haste, gooduncle. Hereafter we must travel night and day. We must double ourretinue at Strasburg and hasten forward regardless of danger andfatigue. I wish we were across Lorraine and well out of Metz. If thiswar begins, Lorraine will surely turn upon Burgundy."
"I begged you not to come upon this journey," said Castleman,complainingly.
"I know you did, uncle," returned Yolanda, repentantly.
"But you would come," continued Castleman, determined to give vent tohis feelings. "I could not dissuade you, and now if the duke leavesGhent--if your father reaches Peronne--before we return, God helpus all."
"Yes, dear uncle," said Yolanda, humbly; "as usual, I was at fault. Ihave been a source of trouble and danger to you nearly all my life, andyou, of all persons in the world, I would make happy."
I was riding ten paces behind Castleman, but the wind came toward me,and I was an involuntary listener. What I had heard was of suchtremendous import to Max that I could not bring myself to rein back myhorse, though I despised myself for listening. I believe that momentwas, of all my life, the greatest test of my love for Max. No less amotive could have induced me to become an eavesdropper. Castleman wassilent for a short time, and then I heard him say:--
"You have also brought me happiness, Yolanda, and I shall be wretchedwhen your father takes you from me. Twonette is not dearer to me thanyou. Whatever befalls, I shall still thank God for the happiness He hasgiven me in you."
"Ah, uncle, your kind words almost break my heart," said Yolanda,placing her kerchief to her eyes. "I wish you would not forgive me forhaving brought you into this hard case. I wish you would upbraid me. Iwill pray to the Blessed Virgin night and day to protect you from thistrouble my wilfulness has brought upon you. Never again will I bewilful, dear uncle, never again--with you. At Strasburg I will make anoffering to the Virgin."
"Make her an offering of this young man on whom you are smiling,"suggested Castleman. "I would have left him at Basel but for yourwilfulness and entreaties. We know nothing of him save that he is big,honest, brave, gentle, and good to look upon. I have already warned youagainst the great favor you show him. I shall not do so again. I advisethat we leave him at Metz."
"I will do as you advise," said Yolanda, mournfully. "I will offer eventhis, my first great happiness, to the Virgin. Surely it willpropitiate her."
This conversation almost deprived me of the power to think. In a dimlyconscious fashion, I wondered whether Castleman could possibly havemeant the Duke of Burgundy when he told Yolanda that her father wouldsoon be at Peronne. I could find no other meaning for his words, and Iwas almost ready to believe that the brown-eyed, laughing Yolanda wasnone other than the far-famed Mary of Burgundy, whose tiny hand wassought by every nation of Europe having a marriageable king or prince.
Kings in their dotage and princes in their nonage wooed her. Old menand babes eagerly sought the favor of this young girl, and stood readyto give their gold, their blood, and the lives of their subjects on eventhe shadow of a chance to win her. The battle-field and the bower alikehad been wooing-ground for her smiles. After all this, she had beenaffianced to the Dauphin of France, and her father would bring themarriage about within a few weeks. To this girl I had thought to begracious, and had feared that I might be too condescending. I thenrealized what a pitiable ass a man may make of himself by giving hiswhole time and attention to the task.
Of course I was not sure that Yolanda was the princess. Her father,spoken of by Castleman, might be, and probably was, a great lord in theduke's train. Yolanda might be the love-daughter of Charles of Burgundy.Many explanations might be given to Castleman's remarks; but I could nothelp believing that Yolanda was the far-famed Burgundian princess. Ifso, what a marvellous romance was this journey that Max and I hadundertaken, and what a fantastic trick fate had played in bringing thesetwo from the ends of the earth to meet in the quaint old Swiss city. Itseemed almost as if their souls had journeyed toward each other, sincethe beginning of time.
That the princess should be abroad with Castleman and his daughterunattended by even a lady-in-waiting seemed improbable--almostimpossible.
My wavering mind veered with each moment from the conviction thatYolanda was the princess to a feeling of certainty that she was not, andback again. That she was the princess seemed at one moment indubitablytrue; the next moment it appeared absurdly impossible. Still,Castleman's words rang in my ears.
I was glad that Max was riding a hundred yards behind me. My firstdetermination was that he should know nothing of what I had heard. Mysecon
d was that he and I should leave the party at Metz. If I were todisclose to Max my suspicions concerning Yolanda, I well knew that itwould be beyond my power or that of any man to prevent his journeyingto Peronne.
This meeting with the princess far from home, one might suppose, was theevent of all others that I desired, but the situation presented manypoints to be considered. If we should conduct Yolanda to Peronne andshould reach that city after the duke's arrival, there would be untoldtrouble for us, if (oh, that mighty if!) she were the Princess Mary. Iwas thoroughly frightened, since I could not know what trouble I mightbring to Max. We might, with comparative safety, visit Peronne at alater period; but I sincerely hoped that Yolanda would offer Max to theVirgin when we reached Metz.
If Yolanda were the princess, and if the duke with his intentionsregarding her immediate marriage, should reach Peronne and find hisdaughter absent, his wrath against all concerned would be unappeasable.If he should learn that she had been absent from Peronne on thisjourney, even though she reached home before her father, Castleman wouldprobably lose his head for the crime of taking her, and all concerned inthe journey might meet with evil fortune. Any of these catastrophesmight occur if she were the princess. If she were not the princess, someother great catastrophe, hinted by Castleman and dreaded by Yolanda,might happen; and it is well for disinterested persons to remain awayfrom the scene of impending trouble.
Aside from all these good reasons for cutting short our journey toPeronne, was the fact that our motive for going there had ceased toexist. The princess was soon to become the wife of the Dauphin. IfYolanda were not the princess, there was still good reason why we shouldabandon her at Metz. She was dangerously attractive and was gaining toogreat a hold on Max. We were under contract to escort Castleman toPeronne, and no danger should prevent us from fulfilling our agreement;but if Castleman should voluntarily release us, our obligationwould cease.
As we passed under the portcullis at Strasburg, Max spurred his horseto Yolanda's side. She neither lifted her veil nor gave any sign ofrecognition. The news of impending war had been discussed, and Maxsupposed Yolanda was frightened. He spoke reassuringly to her, and sheanswered:--
"I thank you, Sir Max, but our danger is greater than you know."
It was four o'clock when we reached Strasburg, where we stopped at TheCygnet. Soon after we entered the inn, Twonette and Yolanda went forth,heavily veiled, and walked rapidly in the direction of the cathedral.Yolanda was going to make her offering to the Virgin of the man sheloved; surely woman could make no greater.
When Yolanda and Twonette had gone, Castleman asked me to assist him inprocuring a score of men-at-arms. They might be needed in crossingLorraine from Strasburg to Metz.
"I shall travel night and day till we reach home," said Castleman. "Ihave news of war that hastens us, and--and it is most important thatYolanda should deliver certain papers at the castle before the dukearrives at Peronne. If she reaches the castle one hour or one minuteafter the duke, the results will be evil beyond remedy."
"I sincerely hope there may be no delay," I answered, believing that thepapers were an invention of Castleman's.
"Yes," responded the burgher; "and, Sir Karl, I deem it best for allconcerned that you and Sir Max part company with us at Metz. I thank youfor your services, and hope you will honor us by visiting Peronne atsome future time. But now it is best that you leave us to pursue ourjourney without you."
Castleman's suggestion was most welcome to me, and I communicated it toMax when I returned to the inn. He was sorrowful; but I found that he,too, felt that he should part from Yolanda.
Castleman and I found the burgomaster, to whom we paid five hundredguilders (a sum equal to his entire annual salary), and within an hour atroop of twenty men-at-arms awaited us in the courtyard of The Cygnet.Castleman barely touched his meat at supper, though he drank two bottlesof Johannesburg; Max ate little, and I had no appetite whatever.
When Yolanda returned, I said:--
"Fraeulein, will you not eat?"
"I do not care to eat," she replied, and I could easily see that she wasstruggling to keep back the tears. "Let us resume our journey at once. Isee the men-at-arms are waiting."
Our rare days of sunshine had surely been weather-breeders. We were allunder a dark cloud.
We left Strasburg by the north gate, and, as the city fell back of us,Max, riding by my side, asked:--
"What is the evil news that has cast this gloom over Yolanda and goodCastleman? If our friends are in danger, I would not leave them at Metz,and you would not have me do so."
"The evil news grows out of the war," I answered evasively. "I heardevery word spoken by the herald and Castleman. The burgher is wise tohasten home. If he delays his journey even for a day, he may findBurgundy--especially Lorraine--swarming with lawless men going to thevarious rendezvous. He also tells me he has important papers that mustbe delivered in the castle before the duke arrives at Peronne."
"It is strange," said Max, "that news of merely a general nature shouldproduce so gloomy an effect; but, if you heard all that De Rose said,that must be the only cause."
"I cannot say," I responded, "what the cause may be. All I know is thatDe Rose spoke of the impending war, and said that the duke was hasteningto Peronne for the purpose of consummating the French marriage at once.There is now no reason why we should journey to Peronne. My air-castleshave crumbled about my ears in fine shape."
"I am not sorry, Karl," replied Max. "During the last fortnight I havechanged. Should my marriage with the princess, by any marvellouschance, become possible, it would now be wholly for the sake of herestates, and I despise myself when I try to think that I wish to bringit about. Ah, Karl, it is now impossible even to hope for this marriage,and I tell you I am glad of it. We will see the world, then we willreturn to Styria; and I shall thank you all my life for having made aman of me."
Yolanda: Maid of Burgundy Page 5
