The Forest Lovers

by Maurice Hewlett

  CHAPTER XVII

  ROY

  That clear and mild evening, fluted as April by a thrush in the lilacs,Prosper and the Countess walked together on the terrace. A guard ortwo, pike in hand, lounged by the balustrade; the deer-hound, with hismuzzle between his paws, twitched his ears or woke to snap at a fly: itseemed as if the earth, sure of the sun at last, left her conning towerwith a happy sigh. It turned the Countess to a tender mood, where shesuffered herself to be played upon by the season--_L'ora del tempo e ladolce stagione._ The spring whimpered in her blood. Prosper felt hersighing as she leaned on his arm, and made stress to amuse her, forsighs always seemed to him unhealthy. He set himself to be humorous,sang, chattered, told anecdotes, and succeeded in infecting himselffirst and the lady afterwards. She laughed in spite of herself, thenwith a good will. They both laughed together, so that the guards nudgedeach other. One prophesied a match of it.

  "And no bad thing for High March if it were so," said the other, "andwe with a man at the top. I never knew a greater-hearted lord. He isvoiced like a peal of bells in a frolic."

  "He's a trumpet in a charge home."

  "He's first in."

  "Fights like a demon."

  "Snuffs blood before 'tis out of the skin."

  "Ah, a great gentleman!"

  "What would his age be?"

  "Five-and-twenty, not an ounce more. So ho! What's this on the road?"

  The other man looked up, both looked together. The porter came on tothe terrace, followed by a dark youth who walked with a limp.

  "A boy to speak with Messire," said the porter, and left his convoy.

  "Name and business?" asked one of the guards.

  "Roy, the page from Starning, to speak with my lord."

  "Wait you there, Roy. I will ask for you."

  The guard went off whistling. Isoult fixed long looks again on the twoat the end of the terrace. She was nearly done.

  "You have made a push for it, my shaver," said the second guard, aftera study from head to toe.

  "My business pushed me."

  "Ah, trouble in the forest, eh? Are the roads clear?"

  "I met with a company."

  "How many pikes?"

  "Nearer sixty than fifty."

  "Where bound?"

  "Goltres, I understood."

  "Who led?"

  "A black knight."

  "Ah. Were you mounted, my lad?"

  "Not then. I was in hiding."

  "Ah. You know what you're about, it seems."

  "Yes," said Isoult.

  The messenger returned.

  "You are to go and speak to Messire," he said.

  Isoult saw Prosper coming towards her. Her heart's trouble began; herknees knocked together, she swayed a little as she walked.

  "That boy's had as much as he can stand," said the guard who hadquestioned.

  "What, a'ready?" laughed his mate.

  "Not beer, you fool--travel. He's extended--he will hardly reachanother yard."

  The fact was wholly, the reasoning partly true. Doubt had lain as dregsat the bottom of the draught which had fed her. Now she was at thelees--brought so low that she had to depend upon the worth of her newsfor assurance of a hearing. True, she had asked no more, nor looked forit--but you cannot tame hopes. A dry patch in her throat burned likefire, but she fought her way. He was close: she could see the keenlight in his eyes. Alas! alas! he looked for Roy. A thick tide ofdespair came surging over her, closing in, beating at her temples forentrance. She lost her sight, fluttered a very rag in the wind, heldout her hands for a balance. Prosper saw her feeling about like a blindman. He quickened.

  "Danger! danger!" she breathed, and fell at his feet.

  He picked her up as if she had been a baby and carried her into thehouse. As he passed the guards one of them came forward to help.

  "The lad's been pushed beyond his strength, my lord," the man ventured.

  "So I see," said Prosper, and shook him off. The business must be gotthrough alone.

  "A great gentleman," said the man to his mate. "But he fags hisservants."

  "Bless you, Jack, they like it!" the other assured him, with a laugh atthe weakness of his own kind.

  Wine on her lips and brows brought her to, but it was a ghost of a boythat lay on the bed and held fixed upon Prosper a pair of haunted eyes.But Prosper stayed at his post. He was very tender to weak things. Herein all conscience was a weak thing! That look of hers, which neverwavered for a second, frightened him. He thought she was going to die;reflected that death was not safe without a priest: the thought ofdeath suggested his dream, the dream his old curiosity to see againthat which had so stirred him asleep. Well, here she was beforehim--part of her at least; for her soul, which he had helped her towin, was fighting to escape. The sounds of the duel, the shudderingreluctance of the indrawn breath, the moan that told of itsenlargement, these things, and the motionless open eyes which seemed tosay, Look! Body and soul are fighting, and we can only watch! turnedhim helpless, as we all are in actual audience of death. He sat,therefore, waiting the issue; and if he had any thought at all it was,"God, she was mine once, and now I have let her go!" For we do not pitythe dying or dead; but ourselves we pity, who suffer longer and morethan they.

  Presently Isoult fetched a long sigh, and moved a hand ever soslightly. Prosper took it, leaning over her.

  "Isoult," he said, "child, do you not know me?"

  He affected more roughness than he felt, as a man's way is. He willalways dictate rather than ask. At his words a shiny veil seemed towithdraw from her eyes, whereby he learned that she had heard him. Heput the cup to her lips again. Some was spilt, but some was swallowed.

  She motioned an answer to his question. "Yes, lord," he made of it.

  "Isoult, I ought to be angry with you," said he; and she lookeduntroubled at him, too far gone to heed the blame of lords or men.

  "No, no," her lips framed as she closed her eyes.

  She fell asleep holding his hand, and he watched by the bed tillmidnight, warning off with a lifted finger any who came from theCountess for news of him. Hard thinking sped the vigil: he wonderedwhat could have happened to bring her so near her death or ever hecould have word of her. Galors, he was pretty sure, had got to workagain; it was good odds that he had been running in couple with thelady of the dead knight. Their connection was proved to his mind. ThenIsoult, having escaped by some chance, had naturally headed straightfor him--very naturally, very properly. It was his due: he would fightfor her; she was his wife. Ah, Heaven, but she was more than that!There were ties, there were ties now. What more precisely she was hecould not say; but more, oh, certainly more. Weak things moved himalways: here was a weak enough thing, white and shadowy in a bed! Hefelt the stirring of her hand in his, like a little mouse. Poorfrightened creature, flying from all the forest eyes to drop at hisfeet at last! By God, he would split Galors this time. And as for thewoman--pooh, give her a branding and let her go.

  At midnight Isoult woke up with a little cry. Her first words were asbefore--"Danger! danger!"

  "You are safe with me, dear," said Prosper.

  "Danger to you, my lord!"

  "To me, my child? Who can be dangerous to me?"

  "Maulfry and Galors. Maulfry most of all."

  "Maulfry? Maulfry?" he echoed. Ah, the lady!

  She told him everything that had passed from the hour she leftGracedieu, and even Prosper could not but see that she had had onethought throughout and one stay. Maulfry's smiling treachery hadshocked her to the soul; but the very shock had only quickened heralarms about his safety. He could not avoid the reflection that thisstartled creature loved him. Prosper would have been more grateful thanhe was, and more shrewdly touched, had he not also felt astonishment(tinged, I think, with scorn) that any one should be anxious about hisconduct of the war. Women's ways! As if a man-at-arms did not live indanger; and for danger, pardieu. He did not show any of this, nor didhe leave the girl's hand. Besides, the affair was very interestin
g. Sohe heard her to the end, adding nothing by way of comment beyond anoccasional "Good child," or "Brave girl," or the wine cup to her drylips. Seeing too how deeply her alarms had sunk into her, he had tactenough not to let her guess his intent, which very nakedly was tofollow up Galors towards Goltres or Wanmeeting. Upon this matter hecontented himself with asking her one question--whether she had everheard speak of a knight called Salomon de Born? The answer made himstart. Isoult shook her head.

  "I never heard of him, my lord; but I know that Dom Galors' name is DeBorn."

  "Hum," said Prosper; "he has taken all he can get, it appears. And doeshe still carry the shield and arms he had before?"

  She told him, yes; and that all his company carried his colours, blackand white, upon their banneroles and the trappings of their horses.

  "In fact our monk sets up for a lord--Messire Galors de Born?"

  "So he is named among his men, lord," said Isoult.

  "But wait a minute. Do you know the man's name before he enteredreligion?"

  "It was De Born, my lord, as I understood. But I have heard him alsocalled Born."

  Prosper thought again, shook his head, made nothing of it, and so keptit for his need.

  Next day before dinner he came into the hall leading a black-haired boyby the hand. He went up to the Countess's chair between the rankedassembly.

  "My lady Countess," says he, "suffer my page Roy to kiss your hand. Heloves me, and I him, if for no better reason than that he does me somuch credit. He alone in my father's house has dared it, I may tellyou. Take him in then for my sake, madam. The master's master should bethe servant's master."

  The Countess smiled.

  "He is certainly welcome on this showing," she said, "as well as onothers. That must be a good servant for whom his master forsakes notonly his friends but his supper." Then turning to Isoult, "Well, Roy,"she asked, "and art thou whole again?"

  "Yes, please my lady," said Isoult.

  "Then thou shalt kiss my hand for thy master's sake!" returned theCountess, after looking keenly at the girl.

  Isoult knelt and kissed the white hand. The Countess beckoned to one ofher pages.

  "Go now, Roy, with Balthasar," said she. "He will show thee whatever isneedful to be known. Afterwards thou shalt come into hall and serve atthy lord's chair. And so long as he is here thou shalt serve him, andsleep at his chamber door. I am sure that thou art faithful and worthyof so much at my hands. And now, Prosper," she turned to say, as ifthat business were happily done, "you shall finish your story of thePrincess of Tunis and the Neapolitan barber, which you broke off soabruptly yestereven. Then we will go to supper."

  The audience was over; Prosper received his wife's reverence with ablush, sighed as he saw her back out of the presence, and sighed stillmore as he turned to his task of entertaining the great lady hishostess.

  Isoult was led away by Balthasar into the pages' quarters, and escapedthence with an examination which was not so searching as it might havebeen had she not passed for squire to such a redoubtable smiter. Shewas not long finding out that Prosper was the god of all the youth inHigh March. His respect won her respect, though it could win him nomore from her. She heard their glowing reports, indeed, with a certainscorn--to think that they should inform her of him, forsooth! From thebuttery she was taken to run the gauntlet of the women in the servants'hall. Here the fact that she made a very comely boy--a boy agile,dark-eyed, and grave, who looked to have something in reserve--workedher turn where Prosper's prowess might have failed her. The women foundher frugality of speech piquant; it laid down for her the lines of areputation for experienced gallantry--the sort which asks a littlewearily, Is this worth my while? It seemed to them that in matters oflove Roy might be hard to please. This caused a stir in one or twobosoms. A certain Melot, a black-eyed girl, plump, and an easy giggler,avowed in strict confidence to her room-fellow that night, that herfate had been told her by a Bohemian--a slight and dark-eyed youth wasto be her undoing. You will readily understand that this was dulyreported by the room-fellow to Balthasar, and by him to Isoult,following the etiquette observed in such matters. Isoult frowned, saidlittle of it, and thought less.

  With the other pages she waited behind her master's chair at supper. Hestill sat at the Countess's right hand as the principal guest(evidently) in her esteem, if not in degree. Isoult had preparedherself for what was to come as best she could. She had expounded, asyou have been told, her simple love-lore to Alice of the Hermitage; butit is doubtful if she had known how much like a cow beset by flies in adry pasture a lover may be made. Every little familiar gesture was aprick. Their talk of things which had happened to them counselled herto despair. When the Countess leaned to Prosper's chair she measuredhow long this could be borne; but when by chance her hand touched onhis arm, to rest there for a moment, Isoult was as near jealousy as agirl, in the main logical by instinct and humble by conviction, couldever be. Then came doubt, and brought fear to drag her last hand fromthe rock and let her fall. Fear came stealthily to her, like a lurkingfoe, out of the Countess's unconscious eyes. Isoult had nothing to hopefor that she had not already: she knew that now she was blessed beyondall women born; she loved, she was near her beloved; but her heart wascrying out at the cold and the dark. There was love in the Countess'slooks; Isoult could not doubt it. And Prosper did not take it amiss.Here it was that Isoult was blind, for Prosper had no notions whateverabout the Countess's looks.

  He was in very high spirits that supper. He liked Isoult to be by himagain, liked it for her sake as well as for the sake of the escapade.He had watched her a good deal during the day, and found her worthperusal. She had picked up her good looks again, went bravely dressedin his livery of white and green, with his hooded falcon across herbosom and embroidered slantwise upon the fold of her doublet. Thus shemade a very handsome page. She was different though. He thought thatthere was now about her an allure, a grave richness, a reticence ofcharm, an air of discretion which he must always have liked withoutknowing that he liked it. Yet he had never noticed it before. The childwas almost a young woman, seemed taller and more filled out. No doubtthis was true, and no doubt it braved her for the carrying of her boy'sgarnish, otherwise a risky fardel for a young woman. He was pleasedwith her, and with himself for being pleased. So he was very merry, atewell, drank as the drink came, and every time Isoult brought him thecup he looked at her trying to win an answer. Since no answer was to behad he was forced to be satisfied with looking. Once or twice inserving him their hands touched. This also pleased him, but he wasshocked to find this rosy girl with the shining eyes had hands as coldas ice. And he so well disposed to her! And she his wife! He pursuedhis researches in this sort at the cost of more stoups of wine thanwere needful or his rule. He grew enthusiastic over it, and laid up afine store of penalties for future settlement. The enthusiast mustneglect something; Prosper, being engrossed with his page and his wine,neglected the Countess. This lady, after tapping with her foot in herchamber till the sound maddened her, withdrew early. Immediately shehad gone Prosper announced great fatigue. He sent for his page and atorch. Isoult escaped from the noisy herd round the buttery fire, lither torch at a cresset, disregarded Melot languishing in a dark corner,and met her lord in mid hall.

  "Take me to bed, Roy," said he, looking at her strangely.

  Isoult led the way; he followed her close.

  She went into the dark room with her torch while Prosper stood in thedoorway. She lighted the candles: he could see how deliberately she didit, without waver or tremor. His own heart thumping at such a rate, itwas astounding to him to watch. Then she beat out the torch on thehearth, and waited. Three strides brought him into the middle of theroom, but the look of her stopped him there. She was rather pale, verygrave, looked taller than her height; her eyes seemed like twin lakesof dark water, unruffled and unwinking. Neither of them spoke, thoughthere was fine disorder in two hearts, and one was crying inwardly toLove and the Virgin. Isoult spoke first in a very low voice.

&
nbsp; "Lord, now let me go," she said.

  The next minute he had her in his arms.

  She had been prepared for this, and now suffered what she must,lifeless and pleasureless, with a dull pain in her heart. This was thestabbing pain (as with a muffled knife) with which true love maimsitself in its own defence. His aim for her lips was parried; as well hemight have embraced a dead woman. Soon his passion burned itself outfor lack of fuel; he set her down and looked moodily at her, panting.

  "Are you my wife? By the saints, are you not my wife? Why are you here?"

  "To serve my lord."

  "Serve! serve! And is this the service you do me? Are you not my wife?"

  "I am she, lord. I am what you made me. I serve as you taught."

  "Does a wife not owe obedience? Hath a lord--hath a husband no right tothat?"

  "Love is a great lord--"

  "By Heaven, do I not love you?"

  He could have sworn he did; but Isoult knew better.

  "Yesterday my lord loved me not; to-morrow he will not love me. I amhis servant--his page."

  "Isoult, you know that you are my wife."

  "I am your servant, lord," said Isoult. "Listen."

  As he stood hiding his face in his hand, this tall and lordly youth,Isoult took up her parable, but so low you could hardly hear it.

  "Lord," she said, "when you wed me in the cottage it was for honour andto save my body from hanging. And when you had saved my body you showedme soul's salvation, and taught me how to pray, saying, Deal justly,live cleanly, breathe sweet breath. And when you went away fromGracedieu saying you would come again, I waited for you there, doingall that you had taught me. So I did when I was made a prisoner in thedark tower, and so I would do now that I am blest with sight of you andservice. But when I cried for you at Gracedieu you came not, and when Icame to warn you of your peril you hoped for Roy, and seeing me yourlooks fell. And I knew this must be so, and would have gone back toGracedieu had you told me. For then I should still have been rich withwhat you had given me once. Now even I will go, asking but one thing ofyou for a mercy, that you do not send me away beggared of what you gaveme before."

  "And what did I give you, Isoult?" he whispered.

  "'Twas your honour to keep, my lord," said the girl.

  He had been looking at her long before she made an end, but not beforeshe had gathered strength from her theme. When he did look he saw thather eyes were large and dark; honesty and clear courage burned steadilythere; the candles reflected in them showed no flickering. She had herhands crossed over her bosom as if to hold a treasure close: hertreasures were her ring and her faithful heart. He knew now that hecould not gain her for this turn, wife or no wife; in this great moodof hers she would have killed herself sooner than let him touch her;and when she had ended her say he knew that she had spoken the truth, atruth which put him to shame. Like a spoilt boy rather than a rogue hebegan to plead, nevertheless. He went on his knees, unbound her twohands and held them, trying to win his way by protestations of love anddesire. The words, emptied of all fact by this time (for the boy washonest enough), rang hollow. She looked down at him sadly, but verygently, denying him against all her love. The fool went on, set on hisown way. At last she said--

  "Lord, such love as thou hast for me Galors hath also. And shall I letmy looks undo me with thee, and thee with me? I will follow thee as aservant, and never leave thee without it be thy will. I beseech of theedeface not thine own image which I carry here. Now let me go."

  She touched herself upon the breast. This was how she drove the evilspirit out of him. He got up from his knees and thanked her gruffly.His words came curt and sharp, with the old order in the tone of them;but she knew that he was really ordering himself. She held out herhand, rather shyly--for, the battle won, the conquered had resumedcommand--he took and kissed it. She turned to go. The evil spiritwithin him lifted up a bruised head.

  "By God!" cried he, "you shall lie in the bed and I at the door."

  And so it was, and so remained, while High March held the pair of them.By which it will appear that the evil spirit was disposed in pious uses.