The Infant's Skull; Or, The End of the World. A Tale of the Millennium
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CHAPTER V.
THE FOUNDING OF A DYNASTY.
Day was waning. Darkness began to invade the spacious apartment whereseventy-five years before Francon, archbishop of Rouen, informed Charlesthe Simple that he was to give his daughter Ghisele together with thedomains of Neustria to Rolf the Norman pirate, and where now King Louisand his wife Blanche had spent the day.
Louis the Do-nothing was asleep at full length upon his lounge near tothe table that was still covered with the dishes and vases of gold andsilver. The King's sleep was painful and restless. A cold sweat ran downhis forehead that waxed livid by the second. Presently an overpoweringtorpor succeeded his restlessness, and Louis remained plunged inapparent calmness, although his features were rapidly becomingcadaverous. Standing behind the lounge with his elbows resting againstits head, Yvon the Calf contemplated the King of the Franks with anexpression of somber and savage triumph. Yvon had dropped his mask ofstupidity. His features now revealed undisguised intelligence, hiddenuntil then by the semblance of idiocy. The profoundest silence reignedin the apartment now darkened by the approach of night. Suddenly,emitting a deep groan, the King awoke with a start. Yvon stooped downand disappeared behind the lounge while the King muttered to himself:"There is a strange feeling upon me.... I felt so violent a pain in myheart that it woke me up...." then looking towards the window: "What! Isit night!... I must have slept long.... Where is the Queen?... Why was Ileft alone?... I feel heavy and my feet are cold.... Halloa, someone!"he called out turning his face to the door, "Halloa, Gondulf!...Wilfrid!... Sigefried!" At the third name that he pronounced, Louis'voice, at first loud, became almost unintelligible, it sunk to a huskywhisper. He sat up. "What is the matter with me? My voice is so feeblethat I can hardly hear myself. My throat seems to close ... then thisicy feeling ... this cold that freezes my feet and is rising to mylegs!" The King of the Franks had barely uttered these words when ashudder of fear ran through him. He saw before him Yvon the Calf who hadsuddenly risen and now stood erect behind the head of the lounge. "Whatare you doing there?" asked Louis, and he immediately added with asinking voice: "Run quick for some one.... I am in danger....", butinterrupting himself he observed: "Of what use is such an order; thewretch is an idiot.... Why am I left thus alone?... I shall rousemyself," and Louis rose painfully; but hardly had he put his feet downwhen his limbs gave way under him and he fell in a heap with a dull thudupon the floor. "Help! Help!... Oh, God, have pity upon me!... Help!"
"Louis, it is too late!" came from Yvon in a solemn voice. "You areabout to die ... barely twenty years old, Oh, King of the Franks!"
"What says that idiot? What is the Calf doing here?"
"You are about to die as died last year your father Lothaire, poisonedby his wife! You have been poisoned by Queen Blanche!"
Fear drew a long cry from Louis; his hair stood on end over his icyforehead, his lips, now purple, moved convulsively without producing asound; his eyes, fixed upon Yvon, became troubled and glassy, but stillretaining a last glimmer of intelligence, while the rest of his bodyremained inert.
"This morning," said Yvon, "the Count of Paris, Hugh the Capet, met yourwife by appointment in the forest. Hugh is a cunning and unscrupulousman. Last year he caused the poisoning of your father by Queen Imma andher accomplice the bishop of Laon; to-day he caused you to be poisonedby Blanche, your wife, and to-morrow the Count of Paris will be King!"Louis understood what Yvon was saying, although his mind was becloudedby the approach of death. A smile of hatred contracted his lips. "Youbelieved yourself safe from danger," Yvon proceeded, "by compelling yourwife to eat of the dishes that she served you. All poison has itsantidote. Blanche could with impunity moisten her lips in the wine shehad poisoned--" Louis seemed hardly to hear these last words of Yvon;his limbs stiffened, his head dropped and thumped against the floor; hiseyes rolled for a last time in their depths; a slight froth gathered onhis now blackened lips; he uttered a slight moan, and the last crownedscion of the Carlovingian stock had passed away.
"Thus end the royal races! Thus, sooner or later, do they expiate theiroriginal crime!" thought Yvon contemplating the corpse of the lastCarlovingian king lying at his feet. "My ancestor Amael, the descendantof Joel and of Genevieve, declined to be the jailor of little Childeric,in whom the stock of Clovis was extinguished, and now I witness thecrime by which is extinguished, in the person of Louis the Do-nothing,the stock of Charles the Great--the second dynasty of the conquerers ofGaul. Perchance some descendant of my own will in the ages to comewitness the punishment of this third dynasty of kings, now raised byHugh the Capet through an act of cowardly perfidy!"
Steps were heard outside. Sigefried, one of the courtiers, entered theapartment saying to the King: "Seigneur, despite the express orders ofthe Queen, who commanded us not to disturb your slumber, I come toannounce to you the arrival of the Count of Paris."
So saying, Sigefried drew near, leaving the door open behind him. Yvonprofited by the circumstance and groped his way out of the apartmentunder cover of the dark. Receiving no answer from Louis, Sigefriedbelieved the King was still asleep, when, drawing still nearer he sawthe King's body lying on the floor. He stooped and touched the icy hand.Struck with terror he ran to the door crying out: "Help!... Help!" andcrossed the next room continuing to call for assistance. Severalservitors soon appeared with torches in their hands, preceding Hugh theCapet, who now was clad in his brilliant armor and accompanied byseveral of his officers. "What?" cried the Count of Paris addressingSigefried in an accent of surprise and alarm, "The King cannot be dead!"
"Oh, Sire, I found Louis on the floor where he must have dropped downfrom the lounge. I touched his hand. It was icy!" saying which Sigefriedfollowed Hugh the Capet into the apartment that now was brilliantlylighted by the torches of the servants. The Count of Paris contemplatedfor an instant the corpse of the last Carlovingian king, and cried in atone of pity: "Oh! Dead! And only twenty years of age!" and turningtowards Sigefried with his hands to his eyes as if seeking to concealhis tears: "How can we account for so sudden a death?"
"Seigneur, the King was in perfect health this morning. He sat down attable with the Queen; after that she left giving us orders not todisturb her husband's sleep; and--" Sigefried's report was interruptedby nearing lamentations, and Blanche ran in followed by several of herwomen. Her hair was tumbled, her looks distracted. "Is Louis reallydead?" and upon the answer that she received she cried:
"Woe is me! Woe is me! I have lost my beloved husband! For pity's sake,seigneur Hugh, do not leave me alone! Oh, promise me to join yourefforts to mine to discover the author of his death, if my Louis died bycrime!"
"Oh, worthy spouse, I swear to God and his saints, I shall help youdiscover the criminal!" answered Hugh the Capet solemnly; and seeingBlanche tremble and stagger on her feet like one about to fall he cried:"Help! Blanche is swooning!" and he received in his arms the seeminglyfainting body of Blanche who whispered in his ear: "I am a widow ...you are King!"